Run and hide … run and hide …
His words stayed with her like a menacing curse.
Irina ran, but she didn't know where to go. The room was dim; air damp, reeking of iron and musk. She ran in what seemed like circles before coming to a breathless stop, regrettably aware that she had not escaped the same hole she had plunged. How were her thoughts so unorganized? It was because of him; it had to be, watching her from above like she was a mouse in a game of find the cheese.
Her breath came out hot and heavy as she gasped for air. Was this a panic attack? Irina looked desperately around her. She yearned for a weapon; a door out of this place. But her mind was too jumbled. She could hardly think straight.
Breathe, she begged.
She needed a moment to concentrate; a moment without Heisenberg watching her assess the situation.
Irina took a deep and uneven breath. Her throat was tender; head beating from the tension, but she felt better.
If only for a moment.
"Time is ticking away, darling. You don't want to die at the starting line, do you?"
Irina shot a baleful glance in his direction. "Shut up."
His voice wasn't helping.
Laughing at her only irritated her more.
"Best of luck," he stated.
Before he slammed the trapdoor closed, Heisenberg grinned, staring down at her scared, yet irked expression. "And sweetheart … don't disappoint me."
"Go to hell!"
The door came down with a bang; dust rained down with it. Thank god he left her alone.
Shutting her sore eyes, Irina took another breath and opened them, rescanning the grimy room. There wasn't much in terms of weapons she could use; this room was void of scrap, and she couldn't imagine tossing a cardboard box at Heisenberg.
Skip it. What's next?
Waiting him out was an ignorant plan. Irina had no reason to trust that he'd keep his word and let her go once the game was over. Hell no. She'd take her chances trying to escape, then worry about fleeing from the village once she returned. First, she needed to find a map and locate the exits – this was a factory; there were bound to be many. Heisenberg gave her an hour; there was plenty she could do in an hour, like secure a sturdy weapon and attempt to remove the shackles from her wrists.
"I can do this," she uttered in assurance.
There was no way he could search every nook and cranny to find her. This factory was enormous; it certainly looked enormous from the outside.
As she was pondering her next move a low rattling noise startled her. From the left, a shutter door opened, as if to welcome her into the next room. How generous of the prick to lend her a hand.
Accepting, Irina moved into the next room. But as she passed through, a high-pitched siren went off and the shutter began to come down, sealing her within. A warning light flooded her in bright red. Irina screamed in frustration and slammed her hands against the rippled metal.
"Fuck you! This is cheating," she snapped.
The siren hurt her ears.
"And shut that damn thing off."
Moments later, the siren went silent, but the warning light remained on – he was a comical one.
Heisenberg wanted her to move onward. Returning to the previous room was not an option.
Irina turned with an irritated huff and searched the room. It looked as if it were once used as a breakroom. An herb in a small terracotta pot sat on a tabletop in the corner; dust-covered lockers and shelves rested against the walls.
And much to her relief, she saw a door.
She stepped away from the shutter and began to rummage around in the lockers. They were bare, apart from one that possessed a long-range flashlight. The lens was cracked, but the battery was still good, albeit it took her several smacks against her hand to get the light to stop flashing in and out once she tested it.
It would do.
Before she progressed on, Irina uprooted the wilted green herb and stored it in her bag. Luiza taught her that the stem, when ingested, had curative properties; it wasn't much and she wasn't sure she'd even need it, but having it was better than not having it.
The door led her down a set of narrow steps. Irina had to use the cold brick wall as a support, because the bright red warning lights above were on, ominously blinking. She was nervous she'd miss a step and fall on her ass. When she reached the bottom and opened the door, she stood in complete shock, having been led to the beating heart of the factory.
Her stomach twisted and churned in dread; this place was much larger than she thought.
The shrill hum of the machines vibrated in her ears as suspension conveyors moved heavy materials in sharp angles from one empty station to the next across the production floor; massive pumpjacks rotated on screeching cranks in rapid succession, hissing and shooting steam.
Tears gathered in her scared eyes. It was horrific; the worst sound Irina had ever heard, like a howling mechanical beast.
I'm going to die here.
No. She was going to beat this game.
Irina eased towards the broken railing and looked down. There was another floor beneath the one she was on; the smell of murky stagnant water below made her pucker her nose in disgust. How far did she go down?
She decided not to dwell on it long and continued across the platform to the end where the floor branched into three areas; two were sealed by doors and the other was an open lift. Her heart hammered in excitement, and to improve her mood, she saw an extensive map of the factory on the wall near the door in front of her.
Irina hurried into the lift, finding the worn service panel. B4 was lit up; a glowing circle beside it. She wondered if B4 was the floor she was on, considering the fact B5 was written on the last button.
"Please let this work," she uttered.
Her life depended on it.
But first, the map – in case she was wrong – then perhaps she could find a way to break the shackles around her wrists.
According to the diagram she was in Materials. To leave she had to make her way up to Storage; seemed easy enough.
Irina grinned and went through the door across from the lift cart. Her keen eyes caught sight of something against the wall. It was a model of the factory – though not exact – with rotating mechanisms. Did Heisenberg make this? It was rather crafted.
She watched in wonder as the golden trolley car moved back and forth on its automated track. Reaching out to touch it, she noticed the base on which it sat was a barred ossuary that held the crystallized remains of a human inside it. Haunting, yet beautiful, Irina wondered if it were valuable.
Perhaps she'd take it and see if the Duke might buy it from her. But how would she free it? There appeared to be no button or padlock on the ossuary; nothing but a dented space made for something round.
As she was searching for other methods to open the casket, she heard a strange noise over the whisper of the machines outside. The sound was almost familiar, yet she knew she had never heard it here before. In the village maybe; a cart.
It suddenly occurred to her what it might be. Irina darted back onto the platform just in time for the cart to disappear from the floor she was on. In horror, she watched as the buttons on the outside lit up to indicate the floor the cart was being called to. At Storage it stopped, then a second later it began to descend again, passing up floors 2 and 3.
Is it time?
No damn way had an hour passed. Heisenberg was cheating.
He led me here. The entire time he knew which floor I was on because he fucking led me here.
He lied to her; he never intended to play fair. And she was a fool to trust him.
Irina ran. She busted through the remaining door in a panic and rushed down the steps, fleeing down a hallway bathed in red. At the end of the hall, she found herself in another room. An automated door sat in front of her, red light on the hull. But once Irina tried to wrench it open, she learned that it was locked.
Why wouldn't it move?
"Open … please open."
She tried all she knew to do, but the door remained shut. Tears stung her eyes as she banged weakly on the metal. The palm of her hand struck the bulbous red light and a final last idea came to her. Perhaps if she broke it the door would short circuit and open. It was worth a shot.
On a mantelpiece to the right of her, she found a rusted hammer. The splintered wood dug into her tender skin as Irina yanked it from its hook. Standing back, her arm extended and she swung at the light, hitting it dead center. The lens fissured, webbing out, and with one more potent hit, the glass broke, spraying sparks and hissing in protest before the metal latch gave and the door opened.
"Could have been an easier way to do that than breaking my damn door," a voice said.
Irina jerked in fear and glanced over her shoulder. Heisenberg stood behind her, duster and hat missing from his person. But over his arm he carried a large sledgehammer; its handle was wooden, but its massive head was made of fused helical gears and metal scrap. How was he able to carry such a thing?
"Shame," he added. "You only held out for about ten minutes."
She gave him a heated glare. "The hour you gave me isn't over yet. There is still time."
"Afraid not. Your time is up."
His hammer smacked the floor with a deafening crack; its metal face scraped the concrete, shattering it.
Irina tossed the claw hammer at him and ran – whether it hit its mark or not wasn't her concern.
"That's the spirit," he taunted.
She scurried up sets of stairs; across steel grate platforms and down dark halls with nothing but her light to lead the way, until her legs ached and her breath poured out thick and hot.
It hurts, she complained.
At last, she stopped, coming to rest in a heated workroom with an x-ray film board and a furnace used to make castings.
Was there anywhere safe to catch her breath?
Irina sighed and moved around to the other side of a workbench to a door on her right. It was bolted, but with a lock pick, she opened it and wandered in, locking it from the inside.
Sitting on the floor, she took an uneasy breath.
She had to rest.
Just a moment.
But something slumped to the floor near her, moving in the dark. Irina shined her light on the area and to her horror, a monster stood. Its arm, wired to an auger roared to life.
Irina screamed.