Chapter 59 59
Her eyes fluttered open slowly.
Pain throbbed at the back of her head.
“Mmm—!”
Blair stiffened.
Her mouth—bound.
Rough tape biting into her lips. Her wrists—tied tight behind her back, rope cutting into her skin.
Her heart slammed.
Where am I…?
She twisted, breathing hard, eyes darting around.
An old abandoned factory with broken windows high above.
Rusty machines sat frozen in time, chains hanging, metal creaking softly as if the building itself was breathing.
Fear crawled up her spine.
“M—Mave…” she tried to call, the sound coming out muffled. “Mave!”
Her chest tightened painfully.
Then—
She turned her head.
And froze.
Dolls.
Dozens of them.
Scattered across the floor. Propped against walls. Hanging from hooks. Some missing eyes. Some with cracked faces. Tangled hair. Stained dresses.
Her blood ran cold.
No.
No no no—
Her breathing spiraled instantly.
Her body recoiled on instinct, ropes digging deeper as she tried to crawl away.
Not dolls.
Anything but dolls.
Her vision blurred. Her throat burned as she screamed behind the tape.
Memories she hated surged—locked rooms, staring eyes, that suffocating terror from childhood she never outgrew.
One doll near her feet slowly tipped over with a soft thud.
She sobbed.
“Mave… please…” she cried helplessly, shaking violently. “Mommy’s here… Mommy’s here…”
A slow clap echoed through the factory.
Once.
Twice.
Her heart nearly stopped.
Footsteps followed—
A shadow stretched across the floor.
“Still afraid of them?”
She lifted her head, tears blurring her vision.
A man stepped forward.
He smiled.
“Well,” he drawled, tilting his head as he looked around, “looks like I did my homework.”
Her breathing broke into sobs behind the tape as her eyes darted back to the dolls.
No—
Please—
He crouched in front of her, boots inches from her trembling feet.
“Relax,” he said lightly. “They’re just toys.”
He picked one up.
The doll’s cracked eye stared straight at Blair.
She screamed again, thrashing violently, ropes biting into her wrists as her entire body recoiled.
The man chuckled.
“Damn,” he muttered. “That bad, huh?”
He set the doll down gently—right in front of her.
Blair’s vision spun. Her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.
“Mave…” she sobbed helplessly in her mind. Baby, please be safe…
The man leaned closer, lowering his voice.
“You scream his name like it’ll save you,” he said. “Cute.”
Her head snapped up.
His smile widened.
“So that’s the kid.”
Her heart stopped.
“What?” he continued calmly, standing up and pacing. “You really think people don’t notice? Single mom. Works too hard. Too careful. Too scared.”
He stopped behind her.
She felt his breath near her ear.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “He’s not here.”
Her body sagged slightly in relief—
Then he added,
“Yet.”
She let out a broken, muffled cry.
He straightened, hands in his pockets, studying her like prey.
“Someone wants you scared,” he said casually. “Wants you to remember your place.”
He nudged a doll with his boot.
“And judging by this?”
A smirk.
“They chose the right buttons.”
Blair shook violently, tears soaking the tape as panic consumed her.
He noticed it then—the way her mouth strained beneath the tape, the frantic sounds forcing their way out of her throat.
He tilted his head, amused.
“Oh?” he said softly. “You wanna talk that bad?”
Blair nodded violently, tears spilling nonstop. Her whole body leaned forward as if words were clawing their way out of her chest.
He crouched again, slowly. His fingers brushed her cheek—
“Careful,” he warned. “Once I hear your voice, I might not like what you say.”
She shook her head harder. Please. Please.
He sighed theatrically. “Women,” he muttered. “Always begging before I’ve even started.”
Then—
He ripped the tape off.
Blair gasped so hard it hurt, air rushing into her lungs as she sobbed out loud.
“Please!” she cried immediately, voice hoarse, breaking. “Please—I have a little kid. I swear I won’t tell anyone. Please just let me go.”
Her shoulders shook violently.
“My son,” she continued, panic flooding every word. “He’s small—he needs me. I’m all he has. Please, I’m begging you… I’m worried about my poor baby.”
She tried to move closer despite the ropes, eyes swollen, red, shining with terror.
“I’ll do anything,” she whispered. “Anything. Just please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt my child.”
He stood up abruptly, running a hand through his hair, clicking his tongue.
“Damn,” he said. “You’re really good at that.”
Her heart sank.
He looked down at her again, expression flat.
“Relax,” he said. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be talking.”
She sucked in a shaky breath, hope dangling.
“But don’t misunderstand,” he added coldly. “This isn’t mercy.”
He leaned down one last time, voice dropping into something sharp and dangerous.
“This is a message.”
Blair’s stomach twisted.
“To people who think they can keep secrets forever.”
Her eyes widened in horror.
He lifted both hands slowly, palms out, as if calling a truce.
“Let’s not go into that,” he said calmly. “No screaming. No drama.”
Then his mouth curved—thin, dangerous.
“Now, little bird…”
He circled her once, boots scraping the concrete, letting the sound eat at her nerves.
“Tell me,” he said softly, stopping right in front of her, “how do you want this done?”
Blair froze.
“I—what?” Her voice cracked. “I don’t understand.”
He crouched so they were eye level.
“Oh, you do,” he murmured. “Everyone does eventually.”
Her breathing turned shallow. “Please… I already told you. I have a child. I just want to go home to my baby.”
He sighed, almost bored. “That’s not an answer.”
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper that felt like ice sliding down her spine.
“Some people like it quick. Some want time to think. Some beg. Some fight.”
Then he paused for a bit.
“Some surprise me.”
Her head shook violently. “I don’t want anything. I just want to live.”
He studied her face like a puzzle, eyes flashing over every tear.
“Hm.” He straightened. “That’s usually what they say.”
He snapped his fingers once.
From somewhere deeper in the factory, metal shifted. A door creaked open and heavy footsteps echoed—
Blair’s eyes filled again. “Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t make my son grow up without me.”
That word—son—made his jaw tighten.
He looked away for half a second, then back at her.
“You really love him,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” she sobbed. “More than anything.”
Silence stretched.
Then he smiled aga
in—but this time it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Alright, little bird,” he said. “Here’s what we’ll do.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“You’re going to cooperate".
“And if you do… you might just fly out of here alive.”
The footsteps stopped right behind her.