My vision strained against the bright lights as my back rested against familiar cold steel. I tried to turn my head to shield my eyes from the harsh light but couldn't. It was as if my neck muscles were nonexistent.

As I lay on an icy slab, it triggered a memory that transported me to the backstage area. I finally opened my eyes to the sterile white space. My eyes shifted to take in my new surroundings.

The stark white room felt so small. It was as if I could touch any of the four walls just by reaching out. Some advanced medical machinery aligned one of the walls and on the opposite wall were monitors and various equipment.

In a corner sat a variety of cell phones stacked haphazardly on a table. They lay in a pile amongst several dozen other cracked black screens and battered metal. A single door remained closed to my left. Where it led was unknown, but something in me wanted to find out.

Groggy and confused, my worries were on Millie and Jade. Were they okay? Were they somewhere nearby? Had they succumbed to the same predicament?

I ignored the chilly air of the space and tried to sit up on the table to no avail. I needed to find out where Millie and Jade were and make sure they were alright, but like dense lead, my limbs refused to budge.

Tired and exhausted, sleep threatened to take me under again, but I fought the urge to doze off so I could take in any information that could help me in my difficulty.

My eyes scanned the room. There was no clock on the wall, no calendar, nothing to tell me the time of day or even what day it was. Worse still, there wasn't a visible camera anywhere, meaning whatever happened in the room wasn't being recorded, viewed, or captured.

I ignored the unease that settled in my gut and examined the pile of forgotten cell phones.

Whose cell phones made up the mound they were stashing? Did any of them work? If I had enough strength to get up and retrieve one, would it be of any use? Or maybe they were just hollow husks of useless technology?

I attempted to reach out for one, and to my surprise, my hand moved. With newfound determination, I focused my strength on lifting my arm nearly a full ninety degrees from the table. I felt a surge of pride as I gently set it down again without letting it fall. However, I could sense the sedative taking over again and relaxed, concentrating on my breathing.

After drifting in and out of consciousness for who knows how long, tingles gathered at the tips of my fingers and toes. With effort, I managed to tap my fingers strategically against the metal table beneath me. But before I could test the cooperation of any other limbs, the door to the room swung open. I quickly closed my eyes and lay still as someone entered, the door clicking shut behind them.

The way the door swung open so fast made it clear that Arcanum personnel had little regard for privacy or care.

The sound of heavy boots on the linoleum floor and a robust inhale suggested a male in my presence. His upbeat and cheerful whistling was a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation and filled me with unease.

The whistling man came closer, and I willed myself to stay still, breathe normally, and act asleep. Wild thoughts of what might transpire flooded my head and I wanted nothing more than to be at home in the comfort of Jade's arms.

The footsteps stopped right beside my bed, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me and my body. My heart rapidly pounded in my chest, but I kept my breathing slow and steady, feigning unconsciousness. The man chuckled softly, a sinister sound that sent chills down my spine.

"You're a lucky one, you know," he murmured, his voice low and menacing. "Most wouldn't have made it this far. But here you are, still breathing."

A rough hand grabbed my exposed arm, lifting it slightly but firmly. My skin prickled as he secured the cold, crescent-shaped blade against my forearm attached with the cuff. The metal felt icy against my skin, and I fought the urge to flinch. He adjusted it with a lack of care, as if he was handling a sturdy instrument rather than a weapon designed to damage and inflict pain.

"Not everyone gets those second chances," he went on. His tone almost conversational. "You should consider yourself fortunate. But, of course, luck has a way of running out."

Second chance? What was he talking about?

He tightened the cuff, ensuring it was snug. I could feel the weight of the blade pressing against the skin on my arm, a constant reminder of my precarious situation. The man leaned over me to lazily handle the weapon, his breath hot and dank just inches from my face.

"You're luckier than good old Tommy boy," he murmured with a hint of amusement. "That kid's elitist family paid for his schooling, sure, but they made him work for everything else. Thought it'd build character or some snobbish shit."

His words dripped with scorn, and I could almost see the sneer on his face even with my eyes closed.

"But all that 'building character' lead him straight to the Games. His ego was quadruple the size of his brains, and it got him in trouble. Thought a win would make him invincible, but the Games chewed him up and spat him right out."

Was that confirmation that Tommy Miller wasn't living his best life in a remote tropical destination with all his hard-earned riches?

He straightened up, his tone shifting from mockery to something more sinister. "Can't say the same for you."

Before I could fully contemplate his words, his whistling resumed and retreated, leaving me with a mix of dread and determination. I cracked my eyes open just a sliver, watching his wide back as he glanced over the monitors and gadgets.

I needed to stay alert and find a way out of this nightmare. My survival depended on it. But as he opened the door, he called out to someone nearby, "Room six is a go." As he fully exited the room, my struggle with consciousness finally ended, and a relaxing breath escaped me.

When I attempted to open my eyes again, the lights were out, and an abrasive roughness aggravated the skin of my exposed arm. I finally turned my head to see I was sprawled on my back against the side of a large stack of dried straw.

When I looked up again, the dim false moonlight near the scaffolding of the massive set stared back, until it was replaced with a pair of piercing eyes that seemed to glow with the reflection of nearby light.

Startled, I flinched and sat up to see the mysterious Piper fixed in the shadows. Her slim form seemed delicate, but I didn't want to test her strengths. I sneered at the entire situation. "What do you want?" I stared at the six-inch, wooden carved flute dangling from a thin string around her neck.

An odd grin pulled her thin lips into a straight line as it crept across her pale face. "You're a curious kind." She cocked her head, watching me with a sideways stare. "There's a rare essence within you, something truly extraordinary." Her eyes glowed with an eerie intensity, like a wild animal in the dark. "Fascinating, isn't she?"

I frowned as a chill ran down my spine and looked around to see who she was speaking to, only to find no one else there. "I don't know what you want, but if you're not here to help me, I'd rather you move on then."

The way she seemed to blend in with the surrounding silhouettes made me anxious. It was as if she was the epitome of reality and fantasy, exiting in both places simultaneously. She gave off an odd aura—the way she moved, followed, observed and spoke—everything about her didn't sit well with me.

And that feeling intensified when the wooden flute rose to her mouth like magic. Her thin lips hadn't even touched the flute as music emerged from it. For a second, I wondered if I imagined what stood before me. Then nausea clenched my gut in a death grip. I would have vomited if my stomach held any contents.

But as the tune hit my ears, it took mere seconds for the mound of straw at my back to undulate. I pushed myself to stand, putting searing pressure on my injured hand. I didn't have a chance to examine the shooting pain before large rats emerged from burrows in the mound.

I backed away, keeping a safe distance between me and them, and especially the mysterious addition to the Games. "Stay back," I warned, grabbing the crescent blade into my fist. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Nonsense. No fear. No need for ferocity. I've decided to lend you my aid."

A dozen or so large rats gathered around her, their size startling and downright breathtaking up close. They were so massive that the tops of their heads reached the height of the Piper's kneecap.

"You'll help me?" I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "How?"

"Those you seek, you will find right around the bend." She and her rats waited patiently, not moving other than the slight shifts that their breaths caused, but their gazes were fixed on me.

I was so uneasy, I refused to even look over my shoulder to see if Millie and Jade were nearby as she claimed. "Why would you help me?" All the other Grimm creatures wanted to harm and maim, what made her so different?

"Agreements, once made, should be honored." The Piper seemed to blend into the darkness surrounding us that only her glowing eyes were seen. "A lesson distilled in me by my maker. Reasonable, yes?"

I nodded and continued to back away from the pile of straw, the rats that emerged from it, and the shadowy figure who conjured them.

"Okay," I nodded. "But I'm gonna go find my sister now." The stillness was deafening.

I quickly turned to retreat from the tense situation, but as I spun around, I found myself staring into the same glowing eyes in the shadows, now behind me despite having been in front of me just moments ago.

"You must pay the piper, dear."

The scuddle of dozens of furry feet gathering around nearly made me scream. "What do you mean?" I continued to ease back to put some distance between us.

The eyes blinked and the rats wouldn't settle down, crawling over and around each other, making hissing noises and becoming aggressive.

"In exchange for my aid," the words flowed out of her nonchalantly, "bare what's inside for all to see."

"Huh?"

It was subtle, but the lids of her eyes narrowed menacingly, changing the shape of the glow to something sinister. "Allow the Piper of the Grimm variety to glimpse what's inside of you."