Chapter 22: Eyes behind the wall
1070 Words
The hallway was silent.
Too silent.
The kind of silence that made every breath sound like a confession.
One of the victims had managed to free her hands from the metalic chains.
She moved slowly, carefully, the way Damien had trained her to during one of those trainings the cyber security workers do. Every step placed deliberately. Every shift of weight controlled. The cold floor pressed through the thin soles of her toes, reminding her she was still here.
Still trapped.
But tonight was different.
Tonight she had a plan.
The door behind her had not been locked properly. That alone felt like a miracle. For weeks—months maybe—every door had been sealed like a prison. But tonight someone had made a mistake.
Or so she hoped.
She pushed the door open slowly, inch by inch.
The hinges barely made a sound.
Her heart pounded violently against her ribs.
Don’t run yet, she reminded herself.
Damien had drilled that lesson into her repeatedly.
"Running makes you visible."
"Control your breathing."
"Control your fear."
So she walked.
Step.
Step.
Step.
The corridor stretched long and dimly lit. Cameras hung from the ceiling like silent watchers. She lowered head slightly, just as Damien had trained her—never drawing attention, never appearing nervous.
Just another girl walking through a building.
The memory of being kidnapped in her office flashed in her mind like a wound reopening.
Back to the Present
The memory faded as she reached the end of the hallway.
A door.
The exit.
Freedom.
Her hand trembled slightly as she touched the handle.
This is it.
She opened the door slowly.
Cold night air rushed inside.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she smelled the outside world.
The sky.
The wind.
Freedom.
Her lungs filled with air so sharply it almost hurt.
And then—
She ran.
Outside
The compound was larger than she expected.
High fences surrounded the area, lined with security lights that glowed like watchful eyes. But there were shadows too—long stretches where darkness hid everything.
She ran toward those shadows.
Her heart pounded violently.
Footsteps echoed faintly against the ground.
Just a little farther.
Just a little—
Then she stopped.
A voice spoke behind him.
Calm.
Soft.
Terrifying.
"I was wondering when you would try."
The blood drained from her face.
Slowly—very slowly—she turned around.
And there he was.
Standing a few meters away.
Watching.
The man who had taken her.
The man who had been watching everything.
The man whose face was always hidden in shadows.
He stepped forward slowly.
Almost casually.
"You almost made it," the man said.
There was no anger in his voice.
No shouting.
That made it worse.
"I wanted to see how far you would go."
The girl’s throat tightened.
"Please…" she whispered.
The man tilted his head slightly.
"You’re smarter than the others," he said thoughtfully.
Behind him, several screens glowed through the open door of a nearby room.
Dozens of camera feeds.
Every hallway.
Every room.
Every corner.
The boy’s stomach dropped.
"You thought no one was watching," the man continued quietly.
"But I see everything."
His smile was thin.
Cold.
"I installed the cameras myself."
The realization hit like a physical blow.
She had never been alone.
Not once.
Every fear.
Every tear.
Every moment.
Watched.
The man stepped closer.
The girl backed away instinctively.
But there was nowhere left to go.
"You’re special," the man said softly.
"That’s why I kept you separated from the other girls."
His hand shot forward suddenly.
Grabbing the girl's arm.
Pain exploded through hershoulder as she was dragged backward.
"No—!"
The cry barely left her throat before darkness swallowed everything.
Meanwhile — Across the City
Security at Sinclair Media had doubled.
Police officers patrolled the building.
New cameras had been installed.
Keycards were checked at every entrance.
After the previous disappearances, no one was taking risks anymore.
And yet—
Inside the lobby, a young woman stepped out of the elevator.
Her heels clicked lightly against the marble floor.
She checked her phone absentmindedly.
Behind her, a hooded figure passed through the revolving door.
Head lowered.
Hands in his pockets.
No one paid attention.
Security cameras captured him clearly.
But to everyone watching, he was just another employee leaving work.
He walked calmly past the reception desk.
Past the guards.
Past the cameras.
And just before reaching the exit—
He brushed shoulders with a young man entering the building.
The man barely looked up.
Neither did the hooded figure.
They passed each other without a word.
And the hooded figure stepped outside into the night.
Moments later—
He began to whistle.
Softly.
Casually.
A haunting little tune that floated through the empty street.
Then he disappeared into the darkness.
One Hour Later
The building was still secure.
Every entrance monitored.
Every guard alert.
But inside Apartment 14C—
A window was slightly open.
The young woman who had entered earlier placed her purse on the table and sighed.
She had no idea someone had been inside before her.
Watching.
Waiting.
When the lights suddenly went out, she frowned.
"Hello?"
Silence.
A shadow moved behind her.
She turned—
But it was too late.
A hand covered her mouth.
The room returned to silence.
And despite every camera…
Despite every guard…
Despite every security system…
Another girl vanished.
Without a single sign of forced entry.
Police Station — Later That Night
The officer placed the file heavily on the desk.
Another disappearance.
Another Sinclair employee.
Another locked-room mystery.
"This doesn't make sense," one detective muttered.
"No forced entry."
"No alarms triggered."
"No witnesses."
The room was quiet.
Finally someone said the word no one wanted to say.
"Serial."
No one argued.
Meanwhile…
Back in the hidden compound.
The girl slowly regained consciousness.
Her head throbbed.
Her hands were tied again.
Across the room, the man sat calmly watching the monitors.
Dozens of screens flickered in the darkness.
News broadcasts.
Security feeds.
City cameras.
He didn't look back when the girl woke.
Instead, he spoke quietly.
"You tried."
A pause.
"I like that."
His fingers tapped slowly against the desk.
On one screen, the news flashed urgently.
BREAKING NEWS: Another Sinclair Media Employee Missing
The man smiled faintly.
And finally turned.
His eyes gleamed in the dim light.
"The game," he whispered,
"is just beginning."
- Writer
