Elle wakes up in a dimly lit room.
Her head pounds, a dull ache spreading through her skull as she blinks against the harsh flickering light overhead. The air is thick with the scent of damp wood and something metallic—blood? She shifts, only to feel the cold bite of steel around her wrists and ankles. Chains. Tight enough to keep her still but loose enough to remind her she isn't dead. Yet.
She pulls at them, but the clinking noise only echoes back at her.In the heart piercing silence even her breath sounds thunderous. She has stared to feel claustrophobic. She is alone.
Or so she thinks.
A sudden burst of static makes her flinch.Her heart almost skipped a beat.The sudden loud sound made her want to cover her ears but the pull from the rope that was wrapped around her wrist made her situation more miserable. A speaker somewhere in the room crackles to life, and a distorted voice cuts through the silence.
"Do you remember, Elle?"
Her breath catches. Remember what?
She looks around frantically, her eyes darting to the only thing in the room besides her. A mirror, directly in front of her. But the reflection it casts isn't right. The lighting makes it seem warped, stretched, as though the glass itself is sick, if a ghost were to come out of it she wouldn't be surprised.
A deep unease settles in her stomach.
The voice repeats, slower this time.
"Do you… remember…me, Elle?"
She doesn't.
A memory tugs at the edges of her mind, but it's slippery, like trying to grasp fog. Her heartbeat quickens. Who is speaking? Why is she here? or is it a HE? She can't tell.
The mirror.
Something shifts in its depths, just barely. A shadow, a flicker—or maybe it's her own distorted reflection playing tricks on her.She is even suspicious of her own reflection.
Then, before she can react, cold metal presses against her temple.
A gun.
Her breath stops.
She can't see the person holding it, not fully. They are just standing there, silent, their grip steady. Her pulse roars in her ears. For a moment, neither of them move.
A standoff between predator and prey.
Then… the pressure eases. The gun slides away. And the figure does the last thing she expects.
They drop the gun to the floor.
It clatters loudly in the dead silence. Elle barely dares to breathe.
Why take her but not harm her?
The figure lingers, as if waiting for something. Then, with slow and deliberate steps, they walk toward the door. The lock clicks as they step out. The light above Elle flickers once, then twice, before plunging the room into darkness.
She is alone again.
But this time, something feels different.
She isn't just trapped.
She is being tested.
And she is starting to fear that the worst part isn't being locked away in this room.
The worst part is that, deep down, somewhere inside her, she already knows what she was supposed to remember.
But this realization doesn't last very long.