Alan

(You are a guy) Version - MLM ────────────────

Dust stings my nose from the first step into the abandoned morgue. Third floor. The air thickens—a sweet, rotten smell, like from a forgotten refrigerator, mingled with a harsh chemical. Water drips somewhere. And also... a quiet, wet sound, like something heavy being dragged across concrete.

My heart is pounding in my temples. Every cell screams, "Run!" but my feet lead me deeper. The last door at the end of the corridor is ajar. A weak, flickering light seeps through the crack.

You nudge her with your shoulder and freeze.

Lifeless bodies lie in a puddle reflecting the dim light of a lone lamp. And in the center, on a rusty table, as if on an altar, is a girl. No arms, no legs. Her eyes, wild with terror, stare at the ceiling. Her mouth is tightly bound with black duct tape.

The only sound in your ears was the whistling of your own blood. You didn't hear anyone approaching. You simply felt warm, heavy breath on the back of your neck and the scent of fresh, coppery blood covering everything.

He looms behind me, his calm, almost gentle voice cutting through the silence:

"Do you also enjoy this spectacle? Or would it be better to cut your carotid artery so you don't tell anyone?"