The impact and sensation of the collision were what I mostly remembered. I recalled how the car jerked forward as the crash unfolded before my eyes. I remembered the pain and headache—everything. However, I simply couldn't remember what had happened before the crash. At least not yet.

I woke up in complete darkness. I tried to speak but couldn't, realizing my mouth was covered in duct tape. I couldn't move my hands either, as they were tied to a metal-like chair I could feel beneath me. My other limbs were also strapped to the chair.

I had many questions, but I knew they would either remain unanswered or be fully resolved soon. My screams were futile, yet I screamed anyway, knowing from the start it wouldn't help, because it was the only thing I could do.

As I tried to catch my breath after screaming, I noticed the smell of popcorn nearby. That could only mean one thing: an auditorium. Somewhere in the auditorium, I was strapped to a metal chair—perhaps in the middle of the room.

Gradually, I began to see my surroundings more clearly. The lights in the auditorium were slowly getting brighter. My initial suspicions were confirmed: I was in a metal chair in the middle of the auditorium. In front of me was a big theater screen showing static, similar to the black and white grains on a TV with no signal. I felt hopeless.

I turned my head to the left to see if there was anyone watching me from the higher rows, but there was no one, as far as I could tell. When I turned back to the screen, it showed an image of a car crushed and on fire in a ditch. That's when my memory kicked in, and I realized it was the same car that Derek and I were driving while trying to leave Malus.

Tears streamed from my eyes, and I tried to look away, but the urge to stare was too strong. Just when I thought I had seen enough trauma, another image appeared—this time of the pool at the party I had attended with Derek before the car crash. The pool was filled with blood and floating bodies. I struggled to breathe while looking at the image.

The next thing that appeared wasn't an image, but a video of Derek in a room alone, tied to a chair with duct tape over his mouth. I tried to gasp but couldn't, nearly forgetting my own mouth was taped.

I watched as Derek turned his head toward a mysterious figure approaching him. The figure placed a toolbox on the table in front of Derek. I immediately concluded that it wasn't a regular toolbox but a torture box. My heart raced. I screamed and shook as hard as I could. Derek was about to be tortured in front of my eyes, and I could do nothing but watch in despair.

Eventually, I grew tired of shaking and resorted to sobbing. In the video, the figure pulled out a finger grinder. The notorious tool had likely been used hundreds of times, given the dried blood on it.

Derek resisted, shaking his head as the figure cut the straps holding his right hand to the chair. The figure forcefully placed Derek's arm on the table and spread his fingers. The finger grinder looked dreadful, and when the figure began grinding one of Derek's fingers, I turned away.

It was unbearable. Even though I couldn't see Derek being tortured, I imagined it as his screams filled my body. Why wouldn't this stop?

The screams continued, and I was powerless. Finally, they ceased, and from the corner of my eye, I saw the video change to something else. I dared myself to turn around and look, and I did. The image showed Derek's mutilated body sprawled on the floor. Oh, God, help me. I stared at the image for a few seconds before closing my eyes, attempting to erase the mental image. But I knew that wasn't possible. To my surprise, the TV shut off completely, and I was left in utter darkness again. I felt scared—terrified even, at the thought of my death being mere seconds away.

I anticipated someone slitting my throat from behind and imagined the pain as I choked to death on my own blood. The feeling intensified when I sensed someone touching the straps binding me to the metal chair. I screamed. Whoever it was might have planned to do the same thing to me that they did to Derek and then showcase it to the next potential victim.

I believed my doom was inevitable. The figure took a while to cut the straps, and when they finally did, they grabbed me and dragged me down the aisle. They didn't even bother to remove the duct tape, as expected.

The figure opened a door and forced me through it. It was still pitch black on the other side. As soon as I felt the figure's grip loosen, I shook it off and bolted. I had no idea where to go, but I knew it was better than being near that monster. As I ran, I started slowing down. No matter which way I turned, it remained pitch black. I let out a faint cry as I jogged in the opposite direction. I continued for about two minutes—nothing. There was no dead end or door for me to open.

Something touched my shoulders. I jerked around and clawed in that direction, but no one was there. Just as I was about to stop clawing, I heard the sound of a door opening behind me. My instincts kicked in, and I immediately turned around.

Finally, there was light in this room, but that ironically made it worse because it was the same room where the figure had tortured Derek. I reluctantly took a few steps into the room and turned around to see if the door would close on its own. It didn't, at least not while I watched.

When I turned my attention back to Derek's corpse, I heard the door close behind me. I slowly approached Derek's body and knelt next to it. It smelled awful. The corpse was likely about a week old, judging by its appearance. It wasn't just the body itself; the open insides made the smell even worse. I removed the duct tape from my mouth and began speaking.

"Oh—I'm sorry..." I said, crying over him.

I quickly wiped my tears when I heard the door open again. I looked up and was shocked to see the same figure from the video who tortured Derek. I was enraged. Before the figure could approach me, I glanced at the table and saw the finger grinder was still out. Bingo. I sprinted to the table and managed to grab the weapon before the figure could.

I used the opportunity to grab the figure's arm as it stretched across the table and used the finger grinder on one of their fingers. As I ground their finger, the sounds felt odd. I expected a mushy sound from flesh and bone being separated, but instead, I heard the clashing of metal. I was shocked.

I leaned back against the wall and watched as the figure shook vigorously as I still held the finger grinder. The figure wasn't human; it had been a robot all along. I wanted to confirm my belief by removing the crow mask from the figure, only to reveal a mechanical facial structure.

I didn't have further time to contemplate. I searched the robot for any keys it might have had to access other locked doors. I found a key fob, took it, and left the room without looking back at the robot or Derek's mutilated body. Sadly, it was still dark in the hallway. I went into a full sprint.

I ran, driven by a sense of desperation and dread. The key fob I had taken from the robot was my only hope of finding an escape route from this nightmarish place. My breathing was heavy, and my heart raced as I searched for any way to freedom.

After what felt like an eternity of running through the dimly lit corridor, I finally spotted a door at the end of the hallway. It was an unremarkable metal door, but it represented the potential for escape. I rushed to it and tried the key fob on the electronic lock. With a satisfying click, the door unlocked, and I pushed it open.

I stepped into the room beyond and froze. It was a large chamber filled with rows upon rows of static robots, identical to the one I had disabled back in the room where Derek was tortured. Their silence sent chills down my spine as I walked cautiously through the room. The scent in the air reminded me of the horrors I had witnessed, but I forced myself to keep moving.

As I weaved my way through the rows of lifeless machines, I spotted another door on the far side of the room. The door stood as a beacon of potential freedom, and I hurried toward it, praying that it would lead me to safety.

When I reached the door, I used the key fob once again, and it unlocked with a soft hum. I pushed the door open and was greeted by the cool, fresh air of the outdoors. The sudden change in atmosphere was a shock to my senses, and I took a deep breath as I stepped outside.

I found myself in a dense forest, the early morning light filtering through the trees. The sun was rising, casting a soft, golden glow over the landscape. I took a moment to compose myself, trying to make sense of my surroundings.

As I walked through the forest, I followed a path that seemed to lead toward the roads. My legs felt heavy, and my body was exhausted, but I knew I needed to keep moving. The woods seemed endless, but eventually, I reached the edge of the forest and saw a main road ahead.

The sight of the road gave me a sense of relief, and I walked toward it, my steps faltering as the reality of my ordeal set in. As I approached the road, a large sign caught my eye: WELCOME to MALUS. The words sent a shiver down my spine, but I kept walking, determined to leave this town and its horrors behind.