Yazmina's breath came sharp and fast. She knew she would get surrounded but unlucky for them, that's not going to stop her.

Doctors. Security. Too many of them.

They thought she was cornered.

They thought she had no way out.

They were wrong.

One of the guards lunged-too slow. Yazmina sidestepped and twisted her body into a controlled spin, driving her elbow into his ribs. A choked grunt escaped him as he staggered back, clutching his side.

Another man reached for her arm, but Yazmina already had the scissors drawn.

With a precise flick of her wrist, she slashed his forearm, forcing him to recoil with a sharp cry. Blood splattered across the floor.

A second security officer came at her from behind. She sensed it. Yazmina bent low, spun on her heel, and swept his legs from under him. The impact sent him crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.

She wasted no time.

Using the momentum, she pushed off her hands, flipped over his body, and landed in a defensive stance. Her eyes burned with determination.

Someone else charged-a doctor this time, panic in his eyes as he tried to grab her shoulders.

Mistake.

Yazmina grabbed his wrist, twisted it sharply outward, and drove her knee into his stomach. The air rushed out of his lungs in a gasping wheeze before he crumpled to the ground.

She saw an opening.

Run.

She turned, bolted for the exit-

BANG!

A sharp, piercing pain exploded on her side.

Yazmina's body jerked as the impact threw her off balance, sending her staggering forward. Her breath caught-her vision blurred.

She clutched her ribs. Blood.

Her legs wobbled beneath her, but she didn't fall.

She forced herself to look up.

At the far end of the room, Leith Pierre lowered his gun.

But something was wrong.

The pain in her side burned. Worse than a bullet should.

Then she saw it-her own blood, mixed with something else. A strange, shimmering liquid seeped from the wound.

Realization hit her like a freight train.

He didn't just shoot her.

He injected her.

A bullet-sized vial.

The same refined mixture she had hidden. The one she had crafted so carefully in the lab.

Now it was in her.

Her breathing turned ragged, but she kept running.

The world around her blurred as she burst through the doors, ignoring the shouts behind her.

Her blood left a trail behind her.

She didn't care.

Yazmina ripped the hem of her shirt, pressed it against the wound, and tied it as tightly as she could. She couldn't let herself slow down-not now.

She had to hide.

She had to figure out what the hell Pierre had just done to her.

That vial-her vial-was meant for careful experimentation, for controlled testing. Not this.

She still needed a test subject. She was supposed to study its effects, not become the experiment herself.

Damn it.

And most importantly-

She had to survive.

Luckily, Sawyer found her.

Another CCTV screen flickered at the corner, the static forming into his glowing white eye.

"Left."

His voice crackled through the speakers.

Yazmina didn't hesitate. She pivoted, ignoring the burning pain in her side.

"Through the door-now."

She burst through, slamming it shut behind her. The room was dark, abandoned. Dust hung in the air, undisturbed for who-knows-how-long.

It was safe. For now.

She pressed her back against the cold metal, panting. Her fingers trembled as she peeled away the blood-soaked fabric from her side.

Sawyer's voice returned, softer this time.

"You need to slow the bleeding."

"No kidding," she muttered.

She grabbed whatever she could-ripped fabric, an old bandage from her pocket-anything to wrap around the wound.

As she tied it tight, pain flared up her spine, but she gritted her teeth. She'd felt worse.

Yazmina exhaled sharply. The vial. The refined poppy gas, the scorpion, her own blood. All of it.

Leith Pierre had turned her into her own experiment.

"Fantastic," she muttered.

Yazmina stilled, pressing herself deeper into the shadows of the abandoned room.

Outside, footsteps echoed-hurried, sharp, searching.

Then, she heard it.

Leith Pierre's voice.

"Find her! I want her alive!"

Yazmina clenched her jaw, gripping her injured side. Alive? That didn't mean unharmed.

Another voice responded, someone unfamiliar. "Sir, she's losing blood. She won't get far."

A cold chuckle. "Then follow the trail."

Her pulse pounded. She forced herself to breathe slowly. If they followed her blood, she had minutes at best before they found her.

"Get up," Sawyer's voice crackled from the CCTV screen.

"I can't just-"

"Move." His voice was sharp. "Unless you want to see what Pierre does to people who disappoint him."

She already knew.

Yazmina gritted her teeth and staggered forward. Every step sent a jolt of pain through her ribs, but she forced herself to keep going.

The voices outside grew fainter as she slipped deeper into the hidden corridors.

"Where the hell am I going, Sawyer?" she hissed.

"You don't have much time before they find you again," Sawyer warned through the flickering CCTV screen. His voice crackled with urgency. "You need to move."

"Where?" Yazmina whispered, pressing a bloodied hand to her side.

"Playcare."

Her stomach dropped.

Playcare. The place where they kept the children. The place crawling with secrets. The place ruled by Catnap.

Her fingers trembled.

Dammit, this just keeps getting better.

But before she could take a step, a sound made her freeze.

A soft, eerie tune drifted through the air.

It was distant at first-gentle, almost whimsical, like a child's lullaby winding from an old music box. A sound that should have been harmless.

But Yazmina knew better.

Her breath hitched as the melody gradually picked up speed, each note sharpening, quickening-like a heartbeat reaching a panicked crescendo.

Boxy Boo.

A bloodcurdling scream shattered the factory's stale silence. Then another.

Gunfire erupted down the hall, rapid but erratic-shots fired in desperation.

The hunt had begun.

Yazmina pressed herself against the cold wall, her pulse hammering against her ribs. Not now. Not like this.

From her position, she caught a flicker of movement-a blur of red and blue bounding across the factory floor with terrifying speed.

A guard burst into view, his eyes wide with pure horror.

Run.

He didn't make it.

From the darkness, a long, coiled limb lashed out. Clawed hands wrapped around his torso. In one swift, merciless motion, he was yanked backward into the abyss.

A sickening crunch.

Then silence.

The melody never stopped.

Yazmina swallowed hard.

Something slammed against metal-a distant door bursting open. More screams.

Yazmina inhaled sharply. Move. Now.

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself forward, ignoring the searing pain in her side. If she stayed here, she was dead. If she went outside, she was dead. But if she got to Playcare first-maybe she had a chance.

Sawyer's voice crackled again.

"Yazmina, listen to me. It won't last long. Run."

So she ran.

Looking around at the chaos unfolding-the flashing emergency lights casting jagged shadows, the metallic scent of blood thick in the air, the panicked screams swallowed by the factory's vast, hollow corridors-one thing became terrifyingly clear.

The Hour of Joy had begun.

(Guys OMG :⁠0 it's already The Hour of Joy, are you excited for the next chapter?! What do you think would Yazmina do?)