The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed like flies caught in a jar, casting long shadows along the tiled floor. It smelled like old metal, bleach, and something... sickly sweet. The halls twisted like a maze, each turn indistinguishable from the last. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed and then cut off like a throat being slit.

You crept forward, your worn sneakers crunching faintly over broken glass. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Then came the voice.

"Oh, there you are! My sweet little new victim."

It echoed through the corridors like a song—a lilting, high-pitched melody that barely masked something sinister beneath it.

Mother Gooseberry.

You turned on instinct and bolted, heart hammering in your chest. The world became a blur of steel and shadows, flashing emergency lights painting the walls in red. You heard her footsteps behind you—measured, graceful, as if she had all the time in the world.

"Don’t run too far now, darling. You’ll only make it hurt more when I catch you!"

You swerved around a corner, lungs burning, legs aching. The adrenaline was doing most of the work now. But in your panic, you didn’t see the rusted pipe jutting out along the floor.

Your foot caught.

You stumbled—tripped—

And then you were falling.

Your body hit the stairs hard, tumbling down each metal step like a ragdoll. A loud crack split the air, and agony flared through your ribs. You collapsed at the bottom in a heap, every breath sharp and shallow.

Silence.

Then, footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.

You tried to crawl away, one hand dragging feebly, the other clutching your side. The pain was unbearable.

A shadow stretched across the floor before you.

"Oh, my, my," Mother Gooseberry cooed, crouching beside you. Her porcelain mask tilted, eyes glowing with something between mockery and curiosity. "Looks like someone’s taken a nasty fall."

You whimpered, flinching as she reached out.

But instead of tearing you apart like you expected, she scooped you up carefully, one arm beneath your knees, the other supporting your back. It still hurt, but the gentleness was jarring.

"Today is your lucky day," she whispered near your ear, voice sugar-slick and humming. "I will be nice... until you recover, love."

And she carried you deeper into the nightmare.