In the abyss of her disoriented consciousness, she awoke, ensnared within the confines of a steel chamber. The echoes of her own ragged breaths drilled through the air, her body trembling as she tried to recollect how she got here. Her hands grazed the slick walls, searching for any discernible clue, but she found nothing. The metallic surface beneath her fingertips remained as unforgiving as her fragmented memories. The taste of rust lingered in the air, the biting cold painful against her skin. She pressed onward, her bare feet tracing the wall-floor joint as they guided her. As her toes curled against the corners, she could feel the grit and roughness, while the walls and floor remained flat and slick. Her outstretched hand finally found an irregularity in the wall. Her fingertips explored this newfound crevice, a hole that could have been no larger than than the width of her finger. A putrid scent seeped from within. As she pressed her finger into the void, a sickly sound of blades hitting one another, exacted its gruesome toll. A swift, unforgiving slice severed the tip of her finger. Her agonising cry was swiftly drowned out by the sound of the walls moving closer, forcing her forward and down into a tunnel. Her feet moved instinctively, finding precarious footing on the conveyor belt. The tunnel came alive with the sound of quickening cogs. She could feel the vibrations beneath her feet, an unsettling, rhythmic pulsation. Then she seemed to be jolted left-ways with force. It took her a few moments to realise she was tumbling sideways. Left like a doll bouncing around in the dryer, she grew more disoriented with each moment. The tunnel came to a slow halt, with a familiar sound of machinery powering down. Before she could get her bearings, the earth seemed to disappear beneath her. Thud. This room smelled like an old butcher's freezer, the kind someone would leave for a decade without de-icing or cleaning. She could reach out an arms length in every direction but could discern no exit. Desperate from thirst, she let the icicles on the ceiling drip into her dry mouth. She had no other word for the taste than dirty. She had no way of gauging time passing and had slipped into a light sleep. Melted ice beneath her turned into a small pool, fearing she had soiled herself, woke with a start. The wet clothes clung to her in a way no one would ever want to be touched. She kicked out her legs in disgust, which would turn out to be her salvation from this room at least. Beneath her ankle laid another small hole, this time the width of her large toe. Learning her lesson from before, she broke off a small piece of icicle. Her fingers wrinkly and trembling, inserted the ice into the hole - she would offer no offering of herself this time. No blades - just a crunch. If you’d ever heard a bone in vice, this was eerily similar. A hole appeared in the far end of the room, big enough for her to stand up in. She could smell fresh air, inviting and warm, from above. She stretched out her weak soggy arms and at her elbows, she could feel flaking paint against aged splintered timber. Mustering any strength she had left, she pulled just enough that she could reach a higher rung. After a few attempts she could finally get her knees on the lowest rung. It felt like salt and grain against her skin. She was desperate for rest, but there was nowhere to stop. She could only climb, one rung to the next. She counted soberly under her breath, “99, 100, 101…” How high could this be? “The average house ladder has only 10 steps,” she thought to herself. If she let her limbs give way now, the fall would certainly kill her. She was at least 100 feet upward from the ice room. The temperature slowly rose the higher she got, it couldn’t be long now until some escape appeared. The warmth at least, was a balm for her frost-bitten skin. She reached for the next rung and felt a round, spoked, wheel instead. Turning it with one hand, the latch lifted with a creaking groan. She left out a hefty sigh and launched herself onto the cracked desert floor. She couldn’t help but laugh, thinking that her plight was finally over. The dry air threatened to choke her, but out in the open was better than inside that cage. Lying there for a while, she allowed her strength to gradually seep back into her aching body. The blistering heat of the artificial light above her began to scorch her exposed skin, urging her to rise. With her hands and feet scraping across the unforgiving ground, she reached a small, rocky hill. She clawed her way up its uneven surface, driven by a futile hope of escape. However, as she reached the summit, a disheartening revelation washed over her. Instead of the open sky and freedom, she found herself inside an enormous warehouse, its interior arranged in an unsettling, unnatural manner, resembling a bizarre film set. The realisation that her journey had merely led her from one confounding chamber to another threatened to crush her spirit. Escape seemed like an elusive dream now. Despair clawed at the edges of her mind, leaving her feeling utterly defeated. Her dry eyes ached with the desire to shed tears, but she had none to give. Moving from room to room had become a futile endeavour, a never-ending cycle of torment. Then, from above, a voice boomed, but it spoke in a language foreign to her, its syllables harsh and guttural. She strained to make sense of the incomprehensible words, but it was as if they were drawn from an alien tongue. Confusion and fear swirled within her. Suddenly, the voice spoke again, this time in Russian: "Если ты сможешь достичь следующих двух комнат, мы позволим тебе выжить." She struggled to decipher the meaning of the Russian words but could only pick out a few. "If you can reach something, we will let you live." The message hung in the air, its implications unclear. Then everything began to shake like a small magnitude earthquake. Acrid dust flying into the air made her cough heavily. She fell to her knees wondering whether to stay still or crawl on, it was impossible to stay upright. She surmised that each room was designed in its nature to push you onto the next one, so crawl she shall. The summit, albeit bumpy, was flat at least. Her nails filled with grainy dirt as she pushed on. The rattling finally stopped as she reached the end, there was only a drop from there. With the ground settled, a tiny steel slit appeared before her. She patted her pants pockets to find anything that would be thin or small enough to fit. She even checked the lining of her shirt before she realised she could use the wire in her bra. Making a tear in it with her teeth, she slid out the U shaped wire. She jammed it forcefully into the narrow slit. Suddenly, a powerful suction pulled her upward, her body hurtling through a twisting, disorienting tube at lightning speeds. She spiralled, the sensation of ceaseless motion overwhelming her senses until she was violently thrust into yet another room. In this new chamber, she tried to regain her bearings. The pungent, animalistic odour of rats engulfed her, assaulting her nose with the unmistakable scent of fur and filth. Their scrabbling movements beneath her hands and feet sent waves of tactile discomfort through her as she crawled and walked over their hordes. Hundreds of the creatures scurried around her, their frantic movements and chattering teeth creating an unsettling sound that reverberated through her bones. The rats, driven by fear or malice, lunged and bit at her, their sharp teeth almost puncturing her flesh. As she endured this gruesome ordeal, a thick fog began to descend, obscuring her surroundings. The rats, as if responding to some unseen force, scurried away through a hidden passage, their cries fading into the distance. She collapsed to the ground, dry-sobbing uncontrollably. The floor beneath her, however, had other plans. It shifted and moved like an escalator, propelling her onward to the next room. The wall before her opened up, revealing yet another chamber, and she wondered if this nightmare truly had no end. This room was a wretched nightmare of odours, a putrid stench of faeces and rotting skin. It was boundless and without discernible edges, curved like a dome, almost claustrophobic in its design. Assaulted by the noxious atmosphere, she vomited, bile splattering onto the foul ground beneath her. To her shock, the vomit revealed jagged pieces beneath her knees. With outstretched hands, she began to arrange the pieces, slowly realising they formed a puzzle. Desperation drove her as she pieced them together, forming a cube with trembling fingers. But as she completed the last section, nothing happened, and the hopelessness devoured her. Defeated and drained, she felt a profound sense of resignation, a belief that she would die alone in this nightmarish realm. With nothing left to give, she succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a dreamless slumber. When she awoke, it was in a sterile hospital bed. A doctor, a nurse, and an official-looking military man adorned with many medals, stood above her. The military man spoke with a voice of authority, saying, "Congratulations, Captain. You're ready for quantum travel. Colonisation mission to Tau Ceti will commence next week."

Through the dark woods, they fled, moonlight flickering like dying embers in the hope of racing hearts. Branches reached out like gnarled, skeletal fingers, tearing at their clothes, scratching their flesh as they sprinted, gasping for breath. The relentless pursuit of survival echoed in their ears, each ragged breath drawing them closer to the dilapidated cabin that loomed ahead, a sanctuary and a prison in one. Their footfalls pounded on the damp earth, almost in unison, the forest floor a mosaic of fallen leaves and tangled roots threatened to ensnare them. The hunter pursued relentlessly, the snapping of twigs beneath his heavy boots like the cruel laughter of fate. With an adrenaline-fueled burst of energy, she reached the cabin's decaying doorstep, her frantic fingers clawing at the splintered wood. The door swung open with a mournful creak, and she tumbled inside, the scent of musty despair engulfed. Moonrays seeped through tattered curtains, casting feeble reflections that trembled across the room, revealing its ghastly secrets. The air hung heavy, pregnant with the scent of age-old pine mingled with the tang of impending violence. Cobwebs clung to the cracked wooden beams overhead, swaying like gossamer shrouds in the breeze that filtrated the cracks. The ancient floorboards, worn and groaning under the weight of history, exhaled a breathy moan as if the very foundation of the room bore witness to their deadly dance. To the left, an ornate but long-neglected mirror leaned precariously against the stained wallpaper, its reflective surface marred by time and decay. In the corners, dust-covered furniture lay in repose, their silhouettes resembling forgotten, lurking specters. The mantelpiece, adorned with shattered glass and tarnished silverware, cradled the remnants of past lives. A grim array of taxidermy adorned the walls—a macabre menagerie of death, their vacant eyes looming over the sinister encounter unfolding. The room's lone window, a fractured portal to the outside world, framed a moon that emerged like a ghastly eye, casting flickering, apparitional shadows that danced upon the scarred wooden floor. She clutched the wrench like a lifeline, knuckles white with tension. Endangered eyes scanned the darkness, searching for any sign of him. The hidden wrench was an act of defiance, ready to be used against any foe that dared challenge it. In the corner, his figure started to appear, shrouded in shadows so deep their features were indiscernible. The glint of a sharp blade flashed in the semi-darkness, gripped tightly in his hand. Its hilt, wrought from ebony, bore intricate carvings of nightmarish creatures writhing in torment. The blade, honed to a vicious edge, featured a serpentine pattern reminiscent of ancient evil. The world was blanketed with a hush—not a single leaf rustled now, and there was no chatter of the little animals that had lived in the trees just days before. Even the insects were silent. The creak of a floorboard exposed her position, and his malevolent gaze locked onto the sound. With a predatory step, the intruder closed the gap, the cosmos holding its breath. She retreated, tasting the metallic flavour of fear in the air. Anticipation, like a tightening noose, constricted the room. Tension reached its zenith as they circled each other, an unspoken malevolence between them. Faint luminescence revealed a sadistic grin. The blade descended, but a thud shattered the silence. His agonized scream pierced the night, a macabre symphony of violence. Blood painted the room, sinister and warm. Their eyes locked in a final, desperate confrontation, the cabin a devilish theater of survival. It was a vicious ballet of fear, fury, and frenzy. She lunged again, the wrench striking bone with a sickening crack. He staggered, but his sadistic grin remained, unbroken. Blood seeped from the wound, a grotesque embellishment to the ghoulish setting. His blade arced through the air, like a reaper's scythe. It found its mark, a searing pain that tore through her flesh. She gasped, a crimson fountain spilling forth, painting the room in violent hues. In the dim, ghastly light, they fought with an uncanny ferocity, a battle that transcended mere survival. It was a dance of desperation and doom, a gruesome struggle for dominance in a world reduced to shadows and suffering. The cabin, a backdrop to their primal conflict, had its walls echoing with the cacophony of agony and anguish. The fight raged on, an infernal tempest, neither relenting nor yielding. Battered and broken, they clung to the precipice of oblivion, locked in a deadly embrace. The room seemed to breathe with their pain, the spirit of this place exulted in their suffering. As she flung herself toward the lone window, shards of glass exploded in a discordant flurry of tinkling notes, and she tumbled into the inky soil. Breathless and terror-stricken, her skin prickled with the chilling caress of the night air and her pulse pounded in her ears. Behind her, the presence of the antagonist loomed, his frightening laughter slicing through the night like a haunting lament. The chase continued, midnight consuming them both, and the line between hunter and hunted blurred into a grotesque waltz. Amidst the dense woods, he fought through the searing pain that shot through his skull with each step. Bloodied and sore, his determination surpassed the agony that clawed at his senses. He couldn't let her escape. Ahead, the injured woman stumbled wildly through the tangled underbrush. The pain in her side throbbed, matching the rhythm of her hurried flight. With every stride, the distance between them closed, the man's unrelenting pursuit gaining ground. Emerging into the haven near the tranquil lake, their movements faltered. The woman's heart pounded in her chest even louder, mirroring the urgency of their chase. She knew she had to find refuge, a place to evade her relentless pursuer. The man's determination was unwavering, driven by an unyielding desire to capture his prey. As the clearing stretched before them, the rays danced on the surface of the lake, casting a mesmerizing, silver-hued reflection. The placid waters whispered promises of escape, a shimmering sanctuary just out of reach.