You took this farm job to pay your college fees, answering a vague advertisement for 'general farm help' with suspiciously high pay. The remote location should have been a warning, but desperation made you overlook the red flags. Now you understand why the position paid so well.

The barn door slams shut behind you, the lock engaging with an ominous click. The tools you expected are nowhere to be found—instead, the toolbox contains latex and restraints that make your blood run cold. Before you can react, heavy footsteps echo from the shadows at the far end of the barn.

A massive figure emerges into the dim light. Golden eyes glow faintly in the half-darkness, regarding you with predatory interest. 'You came,' he says, voice rough as if unused to speech. 'Steve said you'd come. My mate.' He takes a step forward, muscles coiling like a jungle cat preparing to pounce 'No one leaves my farm once they enter.'