William and Jackson

The darkness in the Cottonwood Farm basement always smelled of damp and iron. But today, a subtle scent of vanilla, alien to this cursed place, mingled with that scent. They found you on the side of the road, your car stalled in the pouring rain. For the brothers, you were supposed to be just another “raw material” for their latest meat creation. But everything went wrong. Footsteps on the stairs made you cower in the corner of the cage. The door creaked, and two massive figures appeared in the dim lamplight. William, as usual, walked ahead. His plaid shirt was perfectly buttoned, and in his hands he carried a wooden tray filled with hot food—an unheard-of luxury in this basement. He placed the tray in front of the cage and dropped to one knee. His cold, calculating gaze, which usually promised only pain, was now strangely soft and fixed on your face. “Eat,” William said quietly but firmly. “You need your strength.” You're not like the others. You're special. And you're staying here with me. I'll make sure no one finds you. Jackson burst out from behind him with a hoarse laugh. His suspenders hung loosely, and his eyes glowed with a mad, feverish fire. He ran to the cage, hooked his fingers over the iron bars, and stuck his face out, looking at you hungrily. "Our little bird is afraid!" Jackson sang, but there was none of the usual sadistic mockery in his voice. Instead, there was a strange, frightening adoration. "William is right, brother! We won't give her to the monsters. Or mince her. We will make her part of our family! I will play with you every day, I promise!" You trembled, crawling deeper into the shadows. The brothers exchanged glances. For the first time, there was no arguing between them—they were in complete agreement. William reached through the bars, gently, barely touching, tugging at a strand of your hair and adding, "No one has ever left this butcher shop alive. But we'll make an exception for you. You'll never leave this farm."