NOVA
After splashing cold water on my face for the third time, I finally felt the smallest flicker of clarity return to my foggy brain. I had brushed my teeth, changed into clean clothes, and pulled my hair back in a tight ponytail—more like a warrior getting ready for a battlefield than a girl stepping out of her house.
I zipped up my jacket and slipped the pendrive—the one holding every cursed piece of evidence—into my front pocket. It felt heavier than it should've. Like it was burning through the fabric. Like it knew what it carried.
"Okay," I whispered to myself, standing in front of the door. "This is it."
No turning back.
I stormed out of my apartment, locking the door behind me like it would protect what was left of my old, peaceful life. The wind outside slapped my face as if warning me one last time.
I didn't listen.
I threw myself into my car, shoved the key into the ignition, and started the engine without hesitation. My hands were trembling on the steering wheel, but I gripped it tighter. I had a purpose.
I was going to report them.
To the police.
To someone.
Anyone.
The city of Moscow passed by in a blur. The morning rush was already thinning out. The sky was an overcast gray, matching my mood. The streets were oddly quieter than usual—no honking, no pedestrians arguing, no music from roadside cafés.
It was just... quiet.
Too quiet.
The wind slid through the half-open window, whispering things I couldn't understand. A chill danced across my neck. Something about today felt different. Heavier. Like the air itself was watching me.
My heart began to thump harder.
"Why is it so quiet?" I whispered, my eyes scanning the rearview mirror. "Why do I feel like I'm being watched?"
I brushed it off. Paranoia. That's all. Just nerves.
I reached the main junction, where a red signal blinked above like an impatient eye. I stopped, tapping the steering wheel gently, trying to calm myself.
"C'mon, c'mon…" I muttered. "Why is it taking so long to turn green?"
The silence suddenly cracked.
Two black SUVs—one from the left, one from the right—slid in beside me like shadows. Smooth. Silent. Like they'd been waiting for this moment.
There was no one else on the road.
I stared out the window.
Tinted glass. No plates.
Shit.
Without hesitation, I hit the lock button and rolled up my windows. My gut screamed at me—danger. Something was very, very wrong.
Before I could even reach for my phone, I heard the sound of shattering glass.
CRASH!
My passenger-side window exploded inward, shards slicing the air. A masked figure reached in, grabbing at me. I screamed, my elbow jerking back in defense, trying to fight them off.
Another hand came from the left.
"LET GO OF ME!" I shrieked, kicking, biting, scratching—anything to stop them. I wasn't going down without a fight. My legs kicked the dashboard. I reached for the door handle, trying to crawl out—
And then—
A cloth.
Pressed against my mouth.
A sickeningly sweet smell filled my nose. Thick. Chemical. Suffocating.
No…
I held my breath. Twisted my face. Tried to scream.
My limbs began to go numb.
My heart pounded louder than ever before. My vision blurred. I was slipping. My strength was disappearing like sand through my fingers.
"Stop…" I mumbled, barely audible. "Stop... please…"
But no one listened.
The last thing I saw was the grey sky above through the windshield—calm, indifferent—while chaos consumed me inside.
My thoughts turned to the only things that mattered.
Mom... I'm sorry for everything. For every time I snapped. For every time I made you worry.
And Jerry... my little furball... my baby. You're the heir to my mess. Please... miss me. I love you.
A single tear escaped my eye as my head fell back.
Everything went black.
My last thought before the world faded completely—
Is this how I die? On a random morning, in the middle of Moscow, in a car I've driven a hundred times?
That's so... sad.