It had been three days since your abduction. You hadn't seen Graves or the Ghost. They must've left you to rot.

Oh, and your new home? Four cinder block walls, a cold concrete floor, and a heavy metal door that sealed you in. No windows. No lights. Not even a cot to sleep on.

The first night was rough. The air was bitterly cold at night and you found yourself curling into the tightest ball imaginable just to conserve what little heat you had left. Not only that, distant echoing screams from somewhere deep within the facility destroyed any hope of sleep.

By day three, you could tell something was wrong. You were trembling profusely, unable to move from your position on the floor. Pain spasmed through your core, shooting outward like branching roots. Your skin glistened with sweat and your breaths came in short and quick.

If you weren't currently trapped in a cell, you'd think you had the flu. However, no flu had ever made you feel like something was eating you from the inside out—like your very veins were aflame with something more potent than sunshine.

A tray of food sat untouched just an arms-length away from you. You had no appetite and even if you did, you didn't want to move. It was torture, having to lay there staring at the food, knowing you needed it to survive but being unable to eat it.

This was the first time you hadn't eaten your food, so the man in the lab coat who usually came to retrieve your tray was surprised to find it still full of food.

You glared at him through the slit in the door and he stared back, though you were unable to see his eyes behind his dark glasses. Then, he turned to consult someone who was out of view.

The cell door opened with an eerie creak and two people stepped inside—the man from before and a woman. The urge to push yourself into the furthest corner to get away from them was strong. However, your limbs would not—could not—move.

All you could do was lay there, helpless, as the man held you still while the woman quickly jabbed a syringe into your arm. You jerked in response, your expression twisting into that of pain as you tried to struggle against them.

It must've been a sedative that they injected you with because darkness came swiftly, enveloping you in its comforting embrace.

•
•
•

The cruel talons of reality dragged you back into consciousness.

This time, you found yourself on an examination table. A cold, hard metal surface pressed against your back, and your arms were held down by metal cuffs. Your eyes squinted as they tried to adjust, the light hovering overhead being too bright to see past.

You decided to test how strong the restraints were despite knowing they were most likely too strong. Flexing your arms, you pressed your wrists against the frigid metal and were surprised when you actually heard it creak. You flexed harder, your heart rate picking up as you watched the metal slowly begin to bend under the stress.

How am I doing this?

Your eyes snapped up when the door to the room suddenly opened and three men dressed in lab coats hurried in. One of them immediately approached your side and examined the restraints, his face growing pale.

"The serum is already taking effect. We need to transfer her." He told his colleagues in a frantic tone.

What was he so panicked about? You weren't strong enough to break through the restraints, so why was he worried?

Before you knew it, you were being wheeled towards the exit. You panicked, snapping the restraints off with your arms. The moment you slid off the table, the three scientists swarmed you in an attempt to contain you. Understandably, you struggled against their advances—but you didn't know your own strength.

With a jerk of your arm, one of the men was flung into a nearby table of medical instruments, which crashed to the floor. You punched another man in the chest, horror gripping you when you felt his ribs crunch under the impact.

Panic and confusion quickly overwhelmed you, muddling all coherent thoughts in your brain. You had to get out of there.

Get out.
Get out.
Get out.

Tearing yourself free from the remaining scientist, you forced your way through the door and took off running down the hallway. You had no idea where you were going, nor what you were going to do. All you knew is that you couldn't let them catch you—not when you had no idea what the fuck was happening to you.

Turning a corner, you shoved past various surprised scientists and carts of supplies sitting in the hallway. Shouts of anger and shock arose behind you, but you kept going.

God, this place was a maze!

As you sprinted down a long hallway, you were suddenly blindsided by something solid. You staggered into a dark room, feeling yourself being shoved against the wall by a force that was no match for you, even with your newfound strength. Hands gripped your shoulders, a large form pressing uncomfortably close.

Looking up through stray strands of hair, your heart sank when you saw the all too familiar skull mask.

Shit.

"Quiet." He growled, turning his head to look over his shoulder while shielding you with his body.

You held your breath, too scared to take your gaze off of him. Several scientists and armed guards ran past, the darkness of the room proving to be good cover. Once they passed, he waited a few more seconds before he moved away from you.

"Holy fuck." You whispered, trying and failing to ignore the fact that the interaction had left you flustered and fumbling for words.

Your attention was instantly redirected when the Ghost snatched your forearm and yanked you towards the doorway.

"Hey!" You huffed, pulling against him. "I can walk on my own, you know."

"Then walk." He grunted.

Releasing you, the length of his powerful stride seemed to double, forcing you to jog to catch up.

You brushed the hair out of your face as you walked at a brisk pace. It was hard to keep up with him, especially when he kept making sharp turns at the last second to avoid being spotted by someone in the hall.

"Where are you taking me?" You demanded, though he didn't answer.

It probably wasn't anywhere good, but the fact that he wasn't dragging you there kicking and screaming seemed to be a good thing.

Speaking of which, his intentions were confusing as hell. He was the Ghost, an eerie assassin that no one has been able to track down, and he served Graves. You knew that.

He was also the one who brought you here, so why did he save you from getting caught?

The Ghost brought you down another hall and paused by a certain door. He pressed his palm against the panel and tendrils of smoke slithered into the panel's inner workings, unlocking the door. It made you wonder...

Did anyone know he could just unlock any door he wanted to on a whim?

Hell, did Graves know?

Your train of thought was interrupted by him shoving you into the room. It was another cell, but somehow nicer than the previous one.

As you turned to snap at him, he tossed something at you. Some kind of ration bar.

"Eat. Quickly." He muttered, like he knew something bad was about to happen, before he slammed the door shut and left.

You ran over to the door, but he was already gone. Sighing to yourself, you looked down and frowned at the ration bar in your hand.

You're a tough one to figure out...