Girl's POV-
I'm waking up…slowly. Everything's blurry.
My eyelids feel like bricks. My head's pounding, heavy.
And the ceiling above me? I don't recognize it.
Something's wrong.
As my vision clears, the first thing I see is… stars.
Not real ones. Cheap, glow-in-the-dark stickers. Scattered across the ceiling like some fake little galaxy.
They're glowing just enough to light up the room in a soft green haze.
Still dark. Still quiet. But I can see just enough.
I turn my head to the right. Empty wall. Nothing.
Then to the left—a plain white door. No handle? I can't tell.
Straight ahead, an old boxy TV, straight out of the '90s. Powered off.
No posters. No furniture. No frames.
Just a plain, sterile room. And the worst part—
No windows.
No way out. No idea where I am.
This isn't right.
I try to sit up, but my head pulses like it's been split open.
The pain crashes down so hard I almost black out again.
And then—I see it.
A shadow.
A massive hand-shaped shadow crawling across the wall.
I freeze.
I don't move. I don't breathe.
My heart's slamming so hard I swear it echoes off the walls.
I'm not alone.
A hand covers my eyes.
I flinch, but I don't scream. I can't.
Then a voice. Soft. Male. Too calm.
"Shh… you're tired. Go to sleep. You'll feel better… when you're ready to wake up."
When I'm ready to wake up?
What does that mean? I'm awake now. I should be awake.
Who is this? What is happening?
His voice keeps speaking, low and quiet—like he's trying to soothe me.
Then humming. A lullaby? Something off-key. Not quite right.
He's trying to comfort me like I'm some scared child.
Who are you?
Why do you sound like the one who did this to me?
This isn't my home.
Was I… kidnapped?
My stomach twists. Panic slams into me. I want to run, to scream, to do anything.
But what if I do? What will he do if I move?
I'm so f**king scared.
No sound.
No cry.
No scream.
No reaction.
Just stay still.
Maybe he'll leave.
Maybe this is a dream.
Maybe I'll wake up for real.
And then—his hand lifts from my face.
Darkness swallows me again.