My eyes quickly adjust to the dimly lit room. It smells damp, almost moldy, and the space is cluttered with crates scattered haphazardly. If you could even call this a room, it feels more like a forgotten, abandoned storage space. In the corner, I spot a tunnel leading deeper into the unknown.

As my eyes wander, something catches my attention—a book resting on one of the crates. Its hardback cover is beautifully designed, with neon blue print that seems to glow in the dim light. The writing is foreign, unrecognizable. I open the book to a random page, and my breath hitches. There's a picture of a place that has been my "home" for years: Moonlight Hospital. Why would this be here? My fingers freeze over the page, but before I can investigate further, I hear the faint squeak of a door handle.

Panic rises in my chest. I leap behind a nearby crate, trying to hide as silently as possible. My heart pounds in my ears, and I strain to hear the voices approaching.

They’re just outside, but of course, they’ve chosen this room of all places. Through the crack between the crates, I catch a glimpse of them: two people. One man, one woman. The woman stands taller, her presence commanding. She has thick, pale scars across her face, her hair a messy, shoulder-length blonde. Her crimson eyes glint with cold authority. The man is short, round, and seems to be constantly on edge. He nervously twists his hands, stuttering as he speaks.

"Stuart, what are we doing in this repulsive room?" she demands, her voice sweet yet laced with danger. Her glare could cut through steel.

"W-well, madam," Stuart stammers, his voice barely above a whisper, "w-we're almost th-there, j-just a little f-further until we reach the test subj—subject."

She rolls her eyes. "Ugh. Lead the way. And hurry, I don’t have all day."

Stuart waddles ahead of her, looking like a mouse trying to outrun a cat. His fear is palpable, and it only makes my heart race faster.

"Wait!" The woman screeches, causing me to flinch. Her boots echo as she strides toward the crates. My breath catches in my throat. Please, please don’t let her find me. My heart is beating so loudly, I’m sure they can hear it.

Then she stops, and I freeze, praying that somehow, I’m hidden well enough.

"What is this doing here?!" she hisses, her voice sharp as a knife. 

I slowly open one eye at a time, expecting to be torn apart by the terrifying woman but instead, I spot a blue glow radiating on the other side of the crates.