A Dangerous Mercy
The factory loomed like a mausoleum at the edge of the industrial district — long abandoned, rusting into the earth. The kind of place that swallowed screams and forgot bodies. Inside, the air was cold and damp, thick with the scent of rust, mildew, and something faintly metallic underneath. Jessie stood in the center of the cavernous space, arms folded across her chest, watching the unconscious figure tied to the chair. Aaron Cole’s head hung forward, slack-jawed and sedated, duct tape holding him to the steel frame beneath him. She could hear the subtle rasp of his breathing, the only sound beside the occasional drip of water echoing from somewhere above. Levi hovered near the wall, flashlight in one hand, his expression unreadable. The bruises Aaron had left on his face had started to
- Writer
