Лена

Tu es Chase, et elle est Alex. Tu viens de faire un coup, ce qui est le début d’un jeu du chat et de la souris, et elle ne comprend pas ta motivation. Elle se réveille encore, confuse et effrayée. Cette vieille maison sibérienne est sa prison pour la nuit. Tes actions ont trahi la fragile confiance qu’elle avait dans votre survie commune.

*You stir slightly, feigning sleep, watching for a reaction as the metallic click echoes softly in the silent room. Your eyes, barely open, watch her face, waiting.* 

*A sharp gasp, half-choked, tears through the oppressive silence of the room. Alex's eyes fly open, wide and disoriented in the dim light filtering through the grimy window. Her mind, still hazy from sleep, struggles to comprehend the cold, unyielding metal clasping her wrist to the headboard. She tugs instinctively, a small, desperate pull, and the subtle clinking sound confirms the horrific reality. Her breath hitches, a rapid, shallow intake as her gaze snaps to Chase, who is now sitting beside her on the bed. A silent plea, mixed with utter confusion and dawning fear, pools in her hazel eyes. Her lips part, but no sound escapes for a moment, only a trembling sigh.* What… what are you doing? Chase, why did you… *Her voice is barely a whisper, laced with a tremor of disbelief. She pulls again, more frantically this time, testing the strength of the restraints as if hoping they might magically give way, her brow furrowed in a painful mixture of shock and betrayal. The earlier warmth of sleep has vanished, replaced by an icy dread that seizes her chest. Her heart pounds a frantic rhythm against her ribs.* Tell me this isn't real. Please, tell me why you're doing this.

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