Her Reason

A throbbing pain echoes inside Vanessa's head, while a lump lodged deep in her throat makes it difficult to swallow. With a few coughs, she mustered the strength to push herself up from the couch, her head shaking and her body trembling. Determined to find water or at least familiarize herself with her surroundings, she scanned the unfamiliar living room of a cabin. The walls were crafted from stripped tree logs, revealing their smooth, shaved surfaces. A crackling fireplace stood a few feet away, intensifying the already scorching temperature that drenched her in sweat on the leather couch. Eager to escape the discomfort, she planted her feet on the floor and prepared to leave. However, a searing pain flared in her throat, causing her to groan and clutch the area. Instead of rubbing her neck in order to soothe the area, she froze as her hand encountered warm liquid seeping from the rough cloth around her throat.

"Lie down," a deep, brooding voice murmurs.

Vanessa flinched at the sudden touch of two hands holding both of her arms, bewildered by the presence of the man behind her. She turned her head abruptly, her eyes widening as she froze in place.

"Is that-" Connor paused, the scent of chocolate cupcakes filling his nostrils, before the fragrance of apple pie overwhelmed his senses.

Her target was mere inches away. Memories of what occurred before she was knocked out slowly resurfaced in her mind—the Moonlight Tavern, her encounter with the target, being led into the woods, and the interruption by a horde of vampires. "Stay back!" Vanessa harshly coughed, blood splattering onto the back of the couch as she struggled to speak. She weakly used one arm to push his body away from hers while the vampire took a few steps back. Her other hand remained gripped to her neck, stabilizing the freshly opened wound. The sickening thought crept into her mind—had he bitten her? The remaining color of her skin was completely drained by the sickly thought. Why else would she have an injury to her neck?

"Calm down; I can help you." Connor urged, his words slowing. "Let me change that bandage."

Vanessa sneered in disbelief, skeptical of his intentions. "Help?" she scoffed. "Like how you bit me?"

Connor raises an eyebrow, holding both his arms in defense of the accusation. "I didn't bite you," he calmly stated. "That wound was from the dagger, remember?"

"Dagger?" Vanessa choked, wiping saliva from her chin with her arm. She took a moment to collect her thoughts before the fuzzy memories became clearer. "Yes. You stabbed me and then ripped it out." She glared, rivaling the fury of the sun itself.

Connor struggled to maintain his composure. Her condition demanded immediate attention. "I'm sorry for that." He attempted to express his sincerity. "At the time, I didn't realize the dagger was in your neck. I should have been more cautious." He searched for words to persuade her, desperate to calm her down and offer his help. "Think about it logically—why would I keep you alive if I had already drank your blood?"

"I..." Vanessa stammered, her mind racing for an explanation that eluded her. Focusing on the hazier parts of her memory, she whispered in a daze, "I'm… not a vampire, am I?"

Connor shook his head. "No, you're not," he reassured her. "You're very much human, which is why I need to attend to your wound and change the bandages before something bad happens. Okay?"

"No," she coughs, shaking her head. "I'll do it myself; you stay back."

Connor fought back a scowl; he hardly believed she was in a condition to do so. "You're in no condition."

Vanessa sends a burning glare in his direction, saying, "Don't underestimate me. I'm not some damsel." She reminded him, "Now where's your bathroom?"

"I have all the supplies ready on the coffee table." Connor gestures to the tiny wooden table at the foot of the couch.

Vanessa peers at it, searching all the items there, and says, "Fine," before scooting carefully to the end of the couch.

Connor watched with hesitant eyes. It was evident she had no trust for him, even though he had spent countless hours cleaning her wound and keeping fresh bandages on her.

Vanessa reaches into one of her hidden pockets in her other boot and pulls out her phone. She unlocks the phone with her thumbprint and opens up the camera. She did her best to unwind the bandage with one hand and carefully clean her wound with the water-soaked cotton ball. The wound was still fresh; she must have only been out for half a day at least. She did her best to then survey her wound; it looked clean with no signs of infection. Once she is satisfied, Vanessa grabs a few cotton balls and positions them on her neck. She then places the phone back into her pocket, noticing her other boot pocket was empty, and tries her best to wind the bandage around to a comfortable snug. "My dagger," she growls. "Where is it?"

"In the kitchen." Connor explains.

"Bring it." Vanessa orders, feeling naked without some sort of weapon on her. And too vulnerable for her liking.

Connor just stared at her, crossed his arms, and said, "That won't happen."

She bitterly sneers. "Afraid I'll kill you?" she taunts, even though that was exactly what she planned to do.

"In your state?" Connor raises an eyebrow with a chuckle and says, "I'm more afraid you'd hurt yourself."

Vanessa's face hardens. "Bastard," she spits out. She throws the blanket off herself and onto the arm of the couch. Her feet made contact with the floor before she sprung up from her spot.

"Don't-" Connor rushes around the couch and extends his arms to catch her.

Vanessa's legs wobbled, a tingling sensation racing through her nerves. She swayed but managed to maintain her balance. Her head flickered to the side he was closing in on. Quickly, she grabbed one of his arms, pushed all her force to one foot, and flipped him over onto the coffee table. The coffee table gave way; all four legs snapped, causing the table to crash against the ground while the various objects on the table sprawled out around the floor, with a disgruntled enemy laying on top of the mess. Without wasting a second, she took off in a run into the kitchen that just lay in the right corner of the living room.

Connor lay sprawled on the crumbled table for a second; the surprise of her strength had caught him off balance. The impact he made with the table almost caused him to go into a daze. Almost. She was not to be underestimated. He quickly gets up from his spot and easily closes in on the space between them.

Vanessa rummages through the drawers in search of her knife, or any knife. Her fingers closed around a long wooden hilt with the smaller head of a chef's knife attached to it.

Connor grabs her wrist with the knife, ready to flick it out of her grasp.

She quickly takes the initiative and uses her other elbow to jab him straight in the jaw. The vampire, unexpecting the assault, stumbles backwards, his grip tightening around her wrist. He pulls with a fraction of his strength, causing the woman to become off balance. Vanessa stumbles backwards slightly; she kicks one of her feet against the cabinet door and drives her shoulder into his ribs as she crashes into his body. The two fall to the ground, with Vanessa on top and the chef's knife gliding across the wood floor to the door.

Connor's eyes flickered between her crazy eyes and her neck wound, which was, once again, bleeding. 'What am I going to do with you?' he exhaustedly thought.

Vanessa's eyes flickered between his eyes and the knife that lay a few feet across the floor. She wondered if it would be faster to sprint for the chef's knife or if she should try and make it back to the kitchen for another knife. While deep in thought, her head started to sway. Her mind was becoming dizzy. Was it from the sudden movement? When she tackled him? Did he injure her? Her eyes fall back down towards the vampire beneath her, seeing a few droplets of blood hitting against the enemy's jawline and neck. "What?" she mumbles.

Connor took the opening, seeing her in a daze. He lightly pushes her off him by her shoulders and guides her carefully to rest on the floor, putting a hand on her throat and applying pressure to help the wound. At this point, she'd need more blood if she kept this up. Or worse. "Fighting while injured?" He raises an eyebrow, his voice dripping with judgment. "Smart..."

Vanessa raises her arm, trying to swat his arm away from her neck. She warns, "I am… not a child." However, it proved futile, as most of her strength had already left her body.

"Could have fooled me." He chuckles bitterly, "At this point, you need a doctor."

"Blood…" Vanessa chuckles darkly. Had she really lost that much? "Funny how I need it more than you..." she mumbles softly, her jumbo words unable to reach his ears as her voice was almost mute.

"I don't have any, and I can't get you to a hospital with those assholes outside." Connor curses, trying his best to find a solution.

As she tries to focus all her strength, she pulls her left leg up and close to her body, bending the knee. Her hand glides down her leg in search of her boot. Once her fingers make contact with the leather, she digs into her boot's hidden pocket and brings out a small plastic vial with a cork.

Connor braces for impact as her knee comes closer and closer to him. But to his surprise, the movement was so slow and came nowhere near him. He watches as she fiddles with her boot and retrieves a plastic bottle from within with a dark liquid sloshing inside. "What?" he wonders. "Is that?"

She huffs, feeling the edge of darkness trying to lull her to sleep. She uncorks the bottle and brings it to her lips. The bitter, awful taste overwhelmed Vanessa's taste buds. She tries her best to force herself to swallow it. It was an agent made by the alchemists at Iron Will to enhance the production of blood cells if the worst came to worst. She never thought she'd use it for a simple bleed-out. It's too bad it didn't have healing properties.

Connor watches as she eagerly swallows the substance, her chest awkwardly shaking as it tries to breathe through the pain. Vanessa lets out another groan, her eyes slowly shutting. Connor takes the vial from her hand, brings it up to his nose, and sniffs the inside. It smelled horrible, like someone had thrown up in it. Could it have been saline? Was that enough to replace the amount of blood she had lost? He puts a hand on her shoulder and softly shakes her. "Hello?" he murmurs. "Are you… awake?"

"Shut up." Vanessa growls, his voice driving her insane. As if he were the most annoying younger sibling to ever exist. She takes in a few shaking breaths. It would take a while before the properties kicked in, and she tried her best to stay awake. But even the task of keeping her eyes open proved too difficult.

Atlas, the woman, passes out from all the energy she tried to use to kill him. She was breathing; he could hear the trickle of air that flowed in and out of her nose. With a heavy sigh, he got up from the floor, picking her up as he carried her to one of his utility closets. He opens the door, plucks a thing of rope from the closet, shuts the door, and places her body on one of the wooden chairs at his dinner table, located in the left corner of his living room. He ties her to the chair, being careful not to tie it too tightly. He returns to the coffee table, collects the supplies, and returns to the woman to address her wound and apply a fresh, clean bandage.

Once he had finished, he went back to the door, retrieved the knife, and put it back in the drawer. He then opens up one of the cupboards and grabs her dagger. He walks back over to her and puts it in her right boot. He heads to the bathroom and cleans her blood off his skin before returning back to the dining room, which was located in the left corner of the room, and sitting down at the other end of the table, waiting for her to wake up.

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As Vanessa gradually regained consciousness, the room swayed around her, leaving her feeling groggy and disoriented. She blinked her eyes open; her vision initially blurred before slowly coming into focus. The dimly lit living room revealed itself as unfamiliar territory. A throbbing pain in her neck served as a reminder of recent events, and she instinctively tried to move, only to realize she was securely bound to the chair. Confusion and anger surged within her as she struggled against the ropes, her gaze fixated on Connor, who sat across the table. "What the hell is this?" she demanded, her voice weak yet filled with frustration.

Connor watched her intently, his expression displaying concern. "You're awake," he stated softly, a mixture of relief and weariness evident in his voice.

Vanessa fought against the ropes restraining her, but her efforts proved futile. The knots held firm, and she found herself tightly bound to the chair, even with her legs immobilized. Connor leaned back in his seat, his tone serious yet gentle. ""I hope you understand; you nearly killed yourself with that reckless act of trying to fight me."

Her voice hoarse, Vanessa questioned, "Why?"

"Why what?" Connor replied, his voice steady.

Struggling to gather her thoughts, her mind still foggy from the encounter, Vanessa managed to inquire, "Why am I alive?"

"Perhaps it had something to do with that vial of yours," he answered, his unwavering gaze locked onto hers.

Vanessa tugged against the ropes, causing her wrists to chafe against the chair's armrests. "No," she spat bitterly, "why are you keeping me alive?"

Connor sighed, a hint of weariness in his voice. "Why should I kill you?"

The woman blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly. "Excuse me?" she hissed.

"You heard me," he replied, his eyes filled with determination. "Give me one good reason, then maybe I will," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Maintaining her glare, Vanessa shifted her gaze away from him, focusing instead on the wall nearby. 'What's wrong with him?' she thought grimly.

"Cat got your tongue?" Connor teased, raising an eyebrow. However, her response never came. It was then that he noticed the unsettling silence outside—a stillness he had failed to notice amidst her commotion. Curiosity piqued, he rose from his chair and approached the door. Opening it slightly, he peered through the narrow gap, surveying the outside. To his surprise, the number of glowing red eyes had increased, but the creatures had retreated into the woods, patiently waiting for them to leave the house. 'What a nuisance...'

"I promise, I won't keep you captive forever," Connor said, closing the door and returning to his chair. "Just until the sun is up and those assholes are gone."

"Assholes?" Vanessa repeated it with an amused snicker. "Your friends?"

"I wouldn't befriend a zombie, personally," Connor objected, leaning back in his chair once again. "They don't make good company."

"Zombies?" Vanessa chuckled softly, a smirk playing on her lips. She then declared, her voice tinged with arrogance, "The ones caused by a virus that takes over the brain and reanimates the dead? I'm not an idiot." Finding it humorous how desperate he seemed to deceive her.

"No, the real ones." He continues, sincerity reigning thick in his voice: "The creatures you encountered are what humans originally called zombies, later renamed vampires. They are more animalistic and aggressive, hunting in packs and preying on anyone they come across. They are driven by an insatiable thirst for blood, hoping it will rejuvenate them back to their original selves."

"Real..." She sneered, though a small part of her grew curious. Not that she would admit it to her captor. Vanessa sides eyes towards her enemy, observing him for a moment, weighing his words, and trying to gauge his intentions. The revelation of vampires, different from what the Order had taught her, took her by surprise. But Connor's words carried a weight of sincerity that made her pause. She then turned her gaze back to the wall. 'It's going to let you go when the sun is up; just be ready.'

Minutes turned into hours as an uneasy silence enveloped the room, with each person lost in their own thoughts. As Vanessa sat there, her mind raced with thoughts of plotting Connor's demise, while he pondered how to safely release her without risking her attempting to harm him again. The vampire was more concerned about her well-being than being a kidnapper. Every few hours, Connor changed her bandage and offered her anything she might need. But she remained silent, refusing to divert her gaze from the wall. Eventually, he settled back into his chair, his eyes flickering between the clock on the wall and her, assessing how much time remained until he could release her back into the world. He wasn't a kidnapper.

The larger hand of the clock crept closer to the top, the big hand ticking relentlessly. The smaller hand gradually passed the space between the numbers five and six, finally coming to a halt at the number six. 'Wish me luck,' Connor sighed, contemplating how to achieve a confrontation without bloodshed.

'It's showtime!" Vanessa smirks, preparing to lunge at him as soon as the ropes are removed. Excitement boiled in her belly, but she kept her emotions in check.

Connor rose from his chair, walking over to her. He didn't appreciate the burning gaze aimed at him. 'What is she thinking now?' He was tempted to untie her just to see what plan she had devised this time. However, exhaustion and the rising sun made him too weary to engage in another fight. 'Hold on...' a smile playing on his lips as he circled around her chair, grasping it from behind.

"Hey, put me down!" Vanessa squeaked uneasily, her head swiveling around as he held the chair at a 45-degree angle.

"Once we're outside," Connor winked, suppressing a yawn. He made his way through the main room of his cabin, turning the knob and opening the door. Relief washed over him as the once-glowing red eyes in the distance vanished.

"I can walk!" Vanessa huffed, squirming in the chair in an attempt to escape.

"And you will," Connor reassured her with a smirk, placing the chair on the porch. He carefully untied her legs first, followed by her arms, eventually freeing her completely from the chair's grip. "Just head straight from here, and you'll reach the town in no time," he instructed.

Vanessa hopped out of the chair, her legs wobbling slightly as her nervous system recalibrated itself. Her limbs had almost gone to sleep during her time in that blasted chair. She turned to face Connor, her hand instinctively reaching for her boot to retrieve her dagger.

Connor sighed, watching her reclaim the knife he had returned to her. 'I'll retrieve the chair later,' he thought, swiftly closing the door as the dagger struck it where his heart would have been. "I'm counting this!" Connor teasingly chuckles.

"Counting what?" Vanessa tilted her head in confusion.

"Last night, I asked you how many more times you would try to kill me once I released you." Connor explained, maintaining a tight grip on the doorknob. "You have three more tries left."

Vanessa scoffed, walking back up to the door and pushing the chair aside. She clenched the hilt of her dagger and then hesitated, realizing something odd about the house. It didn't have a lock on the door. 'What kept those monsters from coming inside?' she wondered. Vanessa tried to twist the doorknob, fiddling with it, but it remained firmly in place. Either Connor was holding the door shut or there was something peculiar about this house. She turned around, stowing her knife back in her boot. After a few seconds, however, she spun back around. Another strange fact about the house was the absence of windows. She circled around the house, searching for an opening to launch a surprise attack, but found nothing. The only entrance was at the front.

She let out a frustrated sigh, marching back to the front. She grabbed the back of the chair and started dragging it away as she headed back towards town. At least she could annoy the vampire, even if only slightly. If she could get under his skin, as he had done to her, maybe all this would have been worth it.

Connor held his breath, waiting for the enraged woman to depart. He could hear her stomping around outside. Thankfully, he had only one door and no other entrances to his place. At least he was safe from her for now. After a while, the grunts and angry footsteps fade away. He waited a few more minutes, ensuring she wasn't lying in wait, but he couldn't even hear the drums of her heart anymore. Slowly, he opened the door just a crack, allowing his eyes to peer through. His eyebrows furrowed, and his jaw dropped as he stared in bewilderment. "Did she... really take the chair?"

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After pettily dragging the chair halfway through the woods, Vanessa finally let go, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. She felt a sense of satisfaction, as if she had just accomplished something significant. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air that was far better than the stale atmosphere back at the cabin, she continued striding toward the town, her weariness evident in a tired yawn that escaped her throat. Rubbing one of her eyes with her hands, she muttered to herself, "I should take a nap." The view of the town slowly emerged through the trees, beckoning her forward.

Just as she was about to lose herself in the tranquility of the surroundings, her phone jingled and vibrated within her boot. Vanessa swiftly retrieved it from her pocket and answered it as soon as she recognized the caller. "Mom, hey, what's up?"

"Oh, you know, same old, same old," her mother replied wearily on the other end of the line, gathering herself. "When are you going to stop by? It's been a couple of days."

"I was heading home to take a nap. Could I come over afterwards?" Vanessa offered, her voice reflecting her tiredness.

"And risk you sleeping through the whole day?" Her mother's voice held a hint of playful warning.

"I'm on my way. Shouldn't be too long," Vanessa squeaked, sensing her mother's future wrath.

"That's my girl. I'll wait for you outside the hospital!" Her mother's voice conveyed a mix of relief and anticipation before the call abruptly ended with a click.

Vanessa returned her phone to its designated spot, her eyes catching sight of the blood stains on her brown sweater. "Fuck," she cursed under her breath, immediately ripping it off and tossing it into a nearby bush. She would have to retrieve it later. For now, her priority was making her way through town and reaching the hospital.

With determination in her stride, Vanessa pushed forward, determined to put the past events behind her and focus on what awaited her at the hospital.

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Vanessa mustered a weak smile as she looked at her worried mother, her fingers instinctively tracing the bandage around her neck. "Oh, this?" she replied, shaking her head. "It's just a cat scratch," she fibbed, trying to downplay the seriousness of her injury.

Her mother's concern remained evident in her brown eyes, but she offered a loving smile. "You really shouldn't be messing with alley cats, Vanessa. Outdoor cats can be

"Not to be messed with, I know. I'm sorry, but he was just so fluffy," Vanessa interjected, awkwardly laughing as they approached the elevator.

As her mother pressed the button for the second floor, the doors closed, enclosing them in the elevator. "Honestly, I don't know who I should be more worried about, you or your father," her mother remarked, her voice filled with a mix of concern and affection.

Vanessa let out a distant chuckle. "Definitely, Dad," she replied. The two continued down the hallway, but Vanessa's steps faltered slightly when she spotted two tall men in fancy suits and sunglasses standing outside the door across from her father's hospital room. "Mom, who's the VIP across from Dad?" she whispered, her voice filled with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

"I don't know," her mother shrugged. "I haven't seen anyone going in or out of that room." She guided Vanessa into her father's room, unaware of the growing unease in her daughter.

Vanessa eyed the two men with suspicion, noticing that the lights were off and the curtains were drawn behind the door's window. Something seemed off.

"Look who I brought, Harold!" Her mother beamed proudly, showing off their daughter like a trophy in between her arms.

"My, oh me," her father chuckled. "Where have you been, sunshine? I've missed you." He pressed a button on his remote, elevating his bed and shifting himself into a sitting position.

"Sorry, Dad," Vanessa said, walking over to the bed. She leaned over, kissing her father's head while taking his hand. Her father instantly squeezed her hand back. Her mother took a seat on the other side of the bed, holding her husband's free hand. "I've been doing my best to repay the loan and have been taking up a lot of odd jobs lately."

"Strong as ever, just like your mom," her father said proudly, though his eyes betrayed a mix of disappointment and sadness. "Thank you, honey. You've been working far too hard."

"Speaking of work," her mother giggled softly. "Mine starts soon. You really should come by more often. We could have a family dinner here later. I'll stop by 'Grandma's Diner' and get some takeout. They have the best food in town." She winks to her daughter before leaving a kiss on her father's lips, rushing around the bed, and engulfing her in a hug. "Goodbye, honey. I love you very much."

"I'll check my schedule." Vanessa replied weakly, her thoughts elsewhere.

"You better be here," her mother scolds, pulling back from the embrace to flash her playful eyes. She sauntered out of the room, bidding them farewell. "Bye, love you both!" and scurries out the door.

As her mother left, her father called out, "And get the molten lava cakes!" He chuckled, redirecting his attention to Vanessa. Just by one look, he could tell something was up with his daughter; it didn't take a real genius to figure it out. Just the world's best father. "Sunshine, what's wrong?" His voice lowered, concern painted all over his face.

Vanessa stiffened for a moment, gathering herself. "Nothing; I just had a long shift last night. I haven't had a chance to go home and sleep yet."

"A long shift? What were you doing?" her father inquired.

"Nothing too serious; I just had to deal with a rat," Vanessa explained, trying to conceal the details of her job.

"Bet you gave it a run, huh?" Her father jokes, chuckling softly.

"And... how are you doing?" Vanessa's voice grew softer. "Are you feeling any better?"

"The shock of my diagnosis still weighs heavily on me, but I'm sure your mother and I will figure it out," he replied, squeezing her hand. "As soon as I'm out of here, I'll find a different job and take care of the loan. I promise."

Vanessa nodded slowly, relieved that her secret about the loan hadn't been discovered. For obvious reasons, she couldn't afford to tell them the true nature of the deal. She just somehow needed to pay $150,000 with an insane interest rate before her father recovered. She had about seven months. "Just focus on getting better for now," she said, forcing a smile and sitting down in a chair. "Anything new happening around here?"

"Nah, the usual. Mike comes in every Tuesday to watch the game. Your mother keeps me company during visiting hours, discussing women's gossip," her father began listing off. "Every now and then, Jerry comes in when he can, and sometimes he brings little Suzy." He chuckled. "She just won the spelling bee. They say she's going places."

"Wow, little Suzy?" Vanessa beamed. Jerry was their neighbor, a single father raising his daughter alone. She didn't know the details of what happened to Suzy's mother; all she knew was that he wasn't a widower. "She's going to achieve great things outside this town."

"Oh, and Pastor Bob comes by after every service to give me a special visit. Sometimes a few other members join him, and we just chat away." Her father's eyes brightened. "Oh, that reminds me, Pastor Bob has started a fundraiser for me. When you have the time, go to his house, and he'll give you the donations."

Vanessa's jaw dropped as her heart sank. "Really? That's incredibly generous of them."

"I know, I know. I tried to refuse, but he wouldn't accept it," her father chuckled.

"Are you sure?" Vanessa raised an eyebrow, uncertain about accepting the donations and where the money was actually going.

"Well, if you don't, I'm sure the pastor will just go to the bank himself." Her father replies.

Vanessa could feel the horror grip her. "I'll be sure to swing by before I go home," she interjects. There was no way she was going to slip up now after all the work she'd put in.

"Oh, right, you must be tired." Her father snaps his fingers and says, "You should go and get some rest; please stop by here later."

"Are you sure?" Vanessa raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, don't worry about me. I have the TV remote," he replied, attempting to lighten the mood.

Vanessa nodded, wrapping her father in a hug. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, sunshine," he murmured in return.

Vanessa turns around from the hospital bed and makes her way to the door. She closes it softly and heads back to the elevator, contemplating whether she should go to Pastor Bob's house. The moral dilemma weighed heavily on her mind. While the money was meant for her father's care, it'd be going to loan sharks. Could she really accept it? She felt uneasy, with knots forming tightly in her stomach. 'I guess I could stop by his house…' She felt uneasy. Was this stealing?

Yes, it was going to her father's care, but the loan was made by loan sharks. Could she really take the money? She felt uneasy as knots tied tightly in her stomach. She presses the button for floor one, watching as the doors close. She lets out a tired sigh: 'Maybe tomorrow…' She dreaded it; she didn't want to lie, and she definitely didn't want to steal. She was in a small town, not like a village, but these people were good people who lived honest lives.

And she… She bites her lip, the door chimes, and she exits the elevator, heading for the door. She walks outside, turning to head straight home, just for a rough voice to call out to her, "Hey, Vanessa."

She stopped, her gaze shifting to the beaten-up car in front of the hospital. Two men in leather jackets and cargo pants stood behind the open car doors. "Fuck..." she muttered under her breath.

"The boss wants to see you," the other man chimed in. "Get in."

Vanessa's heart races as she looks at the two men standing by the car. She recognizes them as associates of the loan sharks she borrowed money from. Fear and panic fill her mind, realizing that they have tracked her down. She quickly weighs her options, knowing that refusing to comply could lead to dire consequences.

Trying to maintain her composure, Vanessa puts on a brave face and walks towards the car, her mind racing with thoughts of escape plans. As she approaches, she notices the familiar smell of cigarettes and a lingering air of danger surrounding the men.

Reluctantly, she opens the car door and slides into the backseat, her body tense with anticipation. The car door slams shut behind her, sealing her fate for the time being. The men get back in the car, and the vehicle lurches forward, heading away from the hospital.

The interior of the car is dimly lit, and the silence is suffocating. Vanessa takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she contemplates her next move. She knows that confronting the loan sharks is a dangerous game, but she also realizes that she can't escape this situation without taking some risks.

With a steady voice, Vanessa breaks the oppressive silence, her determination shining through. "I just need a little more time.

One of the men shoots her a cold, calculating stare through the rearview mirror. "Considering how much you owe?" he retorts, his tone sharp and curt.

"I'm doing my best," Vanessa insists, her voice tinged with desperation. "I just need a bit more time."

The other man dismissively snorts. "Time's up, sweetheart. The boss wants his money, and he wants it now."

Vanessa's mind races, urgently seeking an escape from this perilous situation. She knows that the loan sharks won't show mercy, and the thought of her father's condition only deepens her anxiety. She needs a plan, and she needs it quickly.

A phone begins to ring in the front seats. One of the goons swiftly retrieves the phone and answers it. Despite her concentrated effort, Vanessa can only catch faint murmurs from the other end of the conversation.

"Yes. Yes." After a brief pause, the goon nods and replies, "Of course, we'll be there soon."

However, amidst her strained focus, Vanessa manages to hear the final sentence from the phone call. Sinister chuckles emanate from the other side, sending shivers down her spine. "Oh, I'm counting on it."

The call ends, and the goon stows the phone away. "Step on it."

The car roars to life, hurtling down the street as the world outside blurs into a frenzy. An overwhelming sense of dread fills Vanessa's stomach as she wonders what fate awaits her. Her heart pounds in her chest, and each breath becomes a struggle. Beads of sweat cascaded down her body, drenching her skin. Vanessa swallows hard, tormented by the unknown.

Abruptly, the car screeches to a halt, and Vanessa's door swings open. She steps out, her legs feeling weak beneath her. The vehicle has brought her to the grimy outskirts of town, where buildings stand crowded together, a few stories tall. Littered sidewalks and cracked pavement serve as a backdrop for the sketchy individuals bustling about their day. Overwhelmed, she gazes at the dilapidated brown brick building before her, held together by wooden planks covering the windows.

Each goon tightly grasps one of her arms, ensuring she cannot escape. "Time to meet the boss," one grumbles, as they practically carry her into the depths of her darkest fears.