3. Knockout

'.....'= Thoughts 

"....."= Conversations 

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To be honest, Lexington was the smallest town Ethan had ever seen. The population barely reached a thousand, and the nearest town was a staggering 600 miles away.

As Ethan wandered through the quiet streets of Lexington, an unsettling doubt crept into his mind. It was hard to believe people actually lived here. Just like the house he had broken into the day before, many of the town's homes appeared abandoned.

'How does a place like this even function?' he wondered, glancing at the empty houses. He found himself questioning the town's leadership. Who could possibly run such a remote, isolated place? And more importantly, how did they keep it going? It was a mystery he intended to solve.

Determined to uncover more information, Ethan began striking up conversations with a few locals, carefully steering the topic toward the town's leadership.

After some more careful probing, he finally got a lead. The town was run by a reclusive figure known only as Old Man Wilson. The locals spoke of him in hushed tones, as though he were more myth than man. 'Interesting,' Ethan thought, 'Looks like there's more going on here than I expected.'

Sensing that asking too many questions might draw unwanted attention, Ethan decided to stop for the day. He had gathered enough information for now.

Later, he found solace in the town's local tavern. The warmth of the fire, the hearty smell of stew and ale, and the murmur of friendly conversation gave him a brief sense of peace. But his thoughts kept drifting back to the townspeople's reluctance to talk about Old Man Wilson. 'There's something off about this place,' he concluded. 'And the man at the center of it all is the key.'

After finishing his meal, Ethan made his way back to the house he had broken into earlier. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional creak of the wind against the old wooden buildings. Despite the stillness, a nagging sense of unease gnawed at him.

Once he reached the house, Ethan scanned the area, ensuring no one was around. Convinced he wasn't being watched, he quietly slipped inside.

Back inside, Ethan settled into a chair by the fireplace, lost in thought. His Talent—the ability to copy someone else's power—loomed in his mind. He hadn't used it yet. 'I need to be careful about who I choose to copy.' The idea of copying a vampire's or shapeshifter's abilities appealed to him, but he knew the risks. 'It would be dangerous to even find such beings, let alone survive the encounter.'

'If only I could copy a vampire's abilities,' Ethan mused, shaking his head. It wasn't a realistic option. He needed to be patient. For now, he needed a job, or he'd starve within days. All the money he had found in the house was already spent on food and gathering information.

Calming himself, Ethan decided not to rush. There was no immediate danger, and no one was after him. 'I need to be smart about this. Strengthening myself through physical training might work for now.' His plan was simple—stay under the radar, find work, and be patient.

Before going to bed, Ethan decided to take extra precautions. He dragged a heavy wooden table and some chairs against the front door, creating a makeshift barricade. Though he doubted anyone would come by, it made him feel more secure. Once satisfied with his setup, he settled into bed.

The only light in the house came from the dim glow of the dying fire, casting flickering shadows across the room. As the flames crackled softly and the embers smoldered, Ethan drifted off to sleep, his mind buzzing with thoughts of what lay ahead.

A few hours before dawn, while Ethan and the rest of the town slept soundly, ten masked figures appeared at the entrance to Lexington. Each carried a musket, their faces hidden beneath dark cloth.

They split into five pairs, moving swiftly toward different houses. One pair headed directly for the home where Ethan lay sleeping.

The two masked intruders approached the door, pausing when they noticed the barricade inside. With practiced precision, they pulled out crowbars and quietly began prying the door open, careful not to make a sound. The door creaked slightly, but the furniture blocking it barely budged. The intruders slipped through the small gap, skillfully sidestepping the table and chairs without disturbing them. Their movements were smooth, as though they had done this many times before.

Inside, they moved silently. But one of the intruders miscalculated a step, bumping into a piece of furniture with a soft thud.

It was enough to stir Ethan from his sleep. Disoriented, he blinked in the darkness, trying to make sense of the noise. Before he could fully react, a sharp pain exploded at the back of his head. One of the intruders had struck him with the butt of a musket. His vision blurred, the room spinning violently before everything went black.

---

When Ethan woke up, the first thing he felt was a throbbing pain in his head. As he blinked to clear his dizziness, he tried to sit up but realized he was tied up and gagged. Panic filled him as he struggled against the ropes, but they wouldn't budge. He was completely helpless.

Slowly, Ethan began to understand his surroundings. He was inside a wagon, which was rocking slightly as it moved. He looked around and saw four other people, all tied up like him. Two of them were awake and looked scared, while the other two were still unconscious. The wagon rumbled on, and he could barely hear muffled voices coming from the front.

Ethan shared worried glances with the two awake captives, feeling their fear. He tried to remember what had happened. He had been asleep when a noise woke him up, and then someone hit him on the head, knocking him out. Now, he was here.

The inside of the wagon felt grim. It was pulled by horses and bounced over a rough road. Light came through small cracks in the wooden walls, casting dim shadows. Ethan noticed masked figures sitting inside with them, dressed in dark clothes and holding guns. They stared at the captives with cold, calculating looks, taking turns to keep watch, so Ethan couldn't think of escaping.

Despite their bad situation, Ethan saw that they were given good food and drinks regularly. Their captors seemed to want to keep them healthy.

'Why? What do they want from us?' The care they received only made Ethan feel more uneasy. It felt like they were being fattened up for something terrible. Whatever was waiting for them at the end of this journey couldn't be good.

As the days dragged on, Ethan's panic turned into a heavy sense of hopelessness. 'Where are they taking us? What do they want?'

Every time he tried to communicate or move, they were met with harsh punishments or the terrifying press of a gun barrel against his head. Any thoughts of escape seemed impossible.

He was immortal in a way; he couldn't grow old, but he could still be hurt or killed.

After what felt like forever, the wagon finally stopped in a remote area, far from any sign of civilization. The kidnappers got off and pulled the captives out, pushing them into a clearing. Ethan's heart sank when he saw another group waiting for them.

A tall man with a cruel look in his eyes stepped forward and addressed the captives. "You have all been brought here for a purpose," he said sharply. "You should be honored. Most people would never get such a chance."

The captives exchanged confused looks, but the man didn't explain any further. Instead, they were handed over to the new group and taken onto another wagon. Ethan's mind raced, searching for a way to escape. But the armed captors were always around, making it impossible to act. He couldn't afford to make a mistake, as one wrong move could cost him his life.

Even if he used his Talent to copy someone's ability, it wouldn't be enough. He needed to be patient and wait for the right moment. But as the wagon moved again, the weight of his situation felt heavy.

As the days went by, their journey through the forest continued without any major problems. Although they couldn't speak, the mood among the captives changed. There was a tension in the air, as if everyone felt that something important was about to happen.

Ethan, however, couldn't stop thinking about how he had been kidnapped. Was it really just bad luck, or was there more to it? It had only been days since he found himself in this strange world, and now he was tied up with a group of captives. The timing seemed too perfect to be just a coincidence. Could his arrival have set off something? As these thoughts swirled in his mind, he felt more uneasy about their fate.

On the fifteenth day of their journey, the horse-drawn wagon stopped in front of a big house hidden deep in the forest. Ethan and the others couldn't believe their eyes. The mansion looked fancy and out of place in the wild surroundings.

It was made of red bricks with white windows and looked very grand. The outside had pretty carvings, and tall columns made it look even more impressive. The front yard was neat, with colorful flowers and trimmed bushes. A gravel path led up to big oak doors that looked threatening. The windows were covered with nice curtains, showing how wealthy the mansion was. But even though it looked beautiful, something felt wrong, as if the house had dark secrets.

As the wagon stopped, Ethan saw five empty wagons nearby, each watched by ten armed figures in similar clothes, standing still with muskets. Once they were taken out and lined up in front of the mansion, fear washed over the group. They knew something bad was waiting for them inside.

The leader of their captors, a tall man with a mean look in his eyes, spoke to them. "Welcome to your new home," he said coldly, making the captives shiver. Ethan shared worried looks with the others.

Suddenly, the masked figures moved in and took off their restraints. Ethan rubbed his wrists, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety about what would happen next. Before he could think more, the same masked figures hit them from behind, knocking them out.

Ethan's vision went dark as he lost consciousness, the last thing he saw was the big mansion above him.

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