Fashioned For Sin

Chapter 21

Leonardo

It’s been a grueling month and a half since Blair’s disappearance, and the relentless search has worn us all thin. Karissa, Max, Julian, and Matt have been staying at my place, their presence a mix of weary support and unwavering determination. We’re all on edge, waiting for any lead that might bring us closer to finding Blair.

One evening, just as I’m sinking into the weary monotony of our search, my phone rings with an unknown number. I answer and put the call on speaker, the tension in the room palpable as Carlo’s voice comes through, cold and mocking.

“Hello, Leonardo. I see you’re still searching. I thought you might appreciate a little poetic challenge.”

“Where are you hiding her you motherfucking cunt?! I'm going to kill you when I find you. Even if it's the last thing I do” I say, trying to control the frustration in my voice.

“I just thought I’d give you a riddle. It might help you find Blair... or lead you to your doom.”

As Carlo begins reciting the poem, Karissa grabs a notepad and pen, scribbling as quickly as she can:

---

“To the hunter who seeks, the end is in sight,

A place where shadows linger, once bathed in light.

Find where the past echoes and silence holds sway,

Where the final act played out and the law came that day.

An old factory’s remnants, now empty and cold,

Is where you’ll find her, if you’re bold.

The place where the hunt for us ended with pain,

Seek that factory, and you might find your gain.

But heed this, Leonardo, a choice must be made,

A cruel twist of fate that cannot be swayed.

If you’re to save her, a sacrifice will ensue,

Either she must kill you, or you must kill her too.

If neither path is chosen, you both shall fall,

In the end, your struggle may not matter at all.

---

When the call ends, the room is filled with a heavy silence. The poem is both a clue and a threat, its meaning not immediately clear. We all huddle around the notepad, scrutinizing the lines for any hint that might reveal Blair’s location.

“It sounds like he’s referring to an old factory,” Max says, pointing at the line about a place where “the final act played out and the law came that day.”

“That would make sense,” Julian adds, frowning. "Alot of factories were shut down a few years ago. But Carlo’s playing games with us. The poem’s full of traps.”

We spend hours debating the meaning, piecing together the poem’s clues while grappling with the final, chilling ultimatum: a choice between saving Blair and facing a sacrifice. It’s clear that Carlo intends to manipulate us into making an impossible decision.

As the day drags on, factories looms large in our minds. The poem’s references to past events and the harsh choices only deepen our urgency. We need to act fast, but the riddle has left us with more questions than answers.

“We need to go every abandoned factory in new york” I finally say, my voice heavy with resolve. “It’s our only lead, and if Carlo’s hint is accurate, it’s where we’ll find Blair.”

Karissa nods, her eyes resolute despite the exhaustion. “Let’s get everything ready and move out. We can’t afford to waste any more time.”

The factory that Carlo hinted at could be any one of the many abandoned sites around New York. Faced with this uncertainty, we decide to search every possible location. The urgency in the poem’s message fuels our resolve as we embark on a grueling quest through the city’s derelict structures.

Our first few days are relentless. We scour every abandoned factory, warehouse, and industrial site we can find. Each location is a maze of decay and neglect, its dark corners echoing with our footsteps as we call out for Blair, hoping against hope that this will be the place. Each failed site adds weight to our growing desperation.

Our days are long and exhausting. We work in shifts, covering as much ground as possible. Max, Julian, and Matt take turns with me, each one pushing through exhaustion and frustration. Karissa, despite her own weariness, remains our anchor, organizing the search and keeping us motivated.

Every evening, we return to the house, only to get up and start again the next morning. We compare notes and check off locations on our list, each marked site adding to the list of places we’ve ruled out. The process is grueling, but we push through, driven by the hope that one of these factories might hold the answers we need.

One particularly grueling day, after searching an old textile mill, I sit down with Karissa, Max, Julian, and Matt to regroup. The factory’s broken windows and rusting machinery offer no answers, and the weight of our failure is palpable.

“This is taking too long,” Karissa says, rubbing her temples. “We need a new strategy.”

“I agree,” I reply, frustration evident in my voice. “But we can’t afford to miss anything. The poem said an old factory. It’s got to be one of these places.”

Matt, exhausted but resolute, adds, “We’ve covered a lot of ground. Maybe we need to revisit some of the places we’ve been to. There could be something we missed.”

Julian nods, “That’s a good idea. Sometimes, going back with fresh eyes might help us spot something we overlooked.”

Despite our fatigue, we decide to recheck some of the sites. We regroup and head back to the factories we’ve previously visited, hoping that a second look might reveal something new.

As night falls, we return to our starting point, the sense of frustration and weariness heavy in the air. Our hope is dim, but the determination to find Blair keeps us going. The poem’s dark promise looms over us, a reminder of the stakes we face.

Despite the setbacks, we resolve to continue our search. Each factory we visit is a step closer to finding Blair—or to discovering the harsh truth of Carlo’s riddle. The old factories of New York are our battleground, and we’re determined to uncover the truth, no matter how long it takes.