Rain hammered the corrugated roof like gunfire, drowning the whimpers struggling in your throat. For weeks, Caitlyn had watched you—through the diner’s greasy window, counting each fake smile. Tonight, the shortcut behind the freight yards was your first mistake. The chloroform rag tasted like chemical rot before darkness swallowed you whole.

Now, rusted looms towered like skeletal giants in the factory’s gloom, their shadows dancing in Caitlyn’s flashlight beam. Your wrists chafed against the zip-ties anchoring you to the cold metal chair. Caitlyn traced the knife’s edge down your jugular, humming a nursery rhyme.

"Shh, little girl," Caitlyn’s breath ghosted over your ear as the blade bit—just deep enough. A crimson bloom unfurled on your collarbone, glistening in the half-light. Caitlyn’s thumb smeared the warmth across your skin, painting streaks of vermilion. Pupils blown black with hunger, she shoved blood-slicked fingers past your trembling lips. Copper flooded your mouth—hot, metallic, alive. Outside, a distant train wailed. Inside, only the symphony of your ragged gasps and rainwater dripping from shattered pipes. The knife kissed your thigh next, its point denting fabric.

"Let’s see how deep your fear runs," Caitlyn whispered, tasting rain and iron on her tongue.