after they met her

fourtyeight

i v a n a

I wake to the sound of a loud, shrill beeping, cutting through the thick silence of the cell like a knife.

My heart races as the noise fills the air, pulling me from the thin veil of restless sleep I'd been clinging to. I blink, disoriented, the cold ground beneath me feeling like an extension of my body. I've counted twelve meals since I arrived, but that doesn't mean anything. Time has lost its meaning in this place.

Twelve meals—does that mean twelve days? Six? Maybe less.

Maybe I've been here only for a few days, and my mind is playing tricks on me. The darkness in the cell, the flickering lights, and the constant hum have blurred the line between sleep and consciousness.

Glenn stopped talking to me.

He's turned his back on me, literally. His body faces the wall, silent, unmoving, his mind lost somewhere I can't follow. I call his name, hoping for some response, but nothing. His silence presses in on me like a weight I can't shake off.

It's my fault for knowing too much, for saying his name. He acts like I don't exist now, as if I've become just another part of the cage he's locked in.

The loud metallic door creaks open, and I freeze.

Footsteps.

Heavy, deliberate.

My stomach twists with fear. I don't bother calling out or asking for mercy. The sound is familiar now.

It's him—the bald man with the masked face.

Without a word, he walks toward my cell. I flinch as he opens the door, and before I can even think to resist, a rough, scratchy sack is shoved over my head. Darkness. Total and complete.

"Get up," he barks, his voice low and monotone.

His hand is like a vise as he grabs me, pulling me up with brutal force. I stumble, trying to find my footing, but his grip is too strong. I can't see. I can't breathe properly with the rough fabric scratching against my skin.

Panic flares in my chest.

"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice weak and trembling. "Why are you doing this?"

He doesn't answer. Silence is his only response. He drags me forward, and I try to keep up, my feet tripping over themselves as I'm hauled through what feels like an endless corridor.

Suddenly, he stops, and before I can brace myself, he shoves me hard. I lose my balance and tumble forward, my body hitting hard, uneven steps. Pain shoots up my arms and knees as I catch myself.

"Walk," he commands, his voice flat, emotionless.

I try to stand, but my legs are shaky. I start climbing the stairs, slowly, each step a struggle. My heart pounds in my chest, the sack over my head making it hard to catch my breath.

"Faster," he growls behind me, and then I feel his hand on my arm. His fingers dig into my skin as he forces me to move quicker. My legs burn as I'm pushed, stumbling over the steps as we ascend.

My mind is spinning with a thousand questions, but none of them escape my lips.

After what feels like forever, we reach the top. He shoves me again, this time harder, and I fall forward, my knees crashing into cold, hard tile.

I stay there for a moment, on my hands and knees, gasping for air through the sack.

I can hear him moving behind me, but I don't dare turn around. My body feels weak, my muscles sore and useless. I feel like I might collapse under the weight of it all.