The predator finished adjusting his phone and leaned toward the girl again. She was still trembling…hands tight around her shoulders, eyes unfocused, as her mind had already checked out.
"…You still didn't take it off?" he whispered, voice soft, almost scolding…like she was the one being difficult.
"Alright, no need for that. I'll do it myself," he said as he leaned closer.
'Now or never,'
I reached up toward an old radio sitting on the shelf above me and shoved it down.
Thud!
The guy jerked back in shock. The girl didn't even flinch. She stayed frozen, pale, shaking, completely gone.
"W–what the fuck!?" he hissed, stumbling away from her.
"W-who's there? Show yourself!"
I didn't answer. I just slipped deeper behind the shelves.
My plan wasn't genius. It was barely even a plan. It was just… the least stupid option I had.
At first, I thought about recording him and threatening to report him. But I had no idea what this dude was capable of. Dragging a defenseless girl into a storage room in broad daylight without anyone noticing? That wasn't his first rodeo. I got lucky just walking in at the right (or wrong) time.
And calling the cops? They'd be too late. He'd escape.
No way I'd risk that.
Stepping in directly was the second option, but let's be honest…
I'm not some martial artist. No black belt. No hidden super strength. I can throw a couple of punches, sure, but that guy? He looked strong. Stronger than me.
Which left one option:
Ambush.
"…"
After a few tense seconds, he swallowed hard and stepped toward the fallen radio.
He moved cautiously, scanning the shelves. Up close, I could finally see him clearly.
He looked around my age…maybe a senior. Tan skin, messy blond hair, and a tight sweater that showed he definitely spent too much time at the gym. He crouched to inspect the broken radio.
I exhaled.
'Screw it!'
I lunged forward with both hands gripping a busted TV I'd grabbed earlier.
Puaack!
The TV smashed into the back of his skull. He dropped instantly… as a puppet with its strings cut.
Adrenaline flooded me so hard my vision blurred. My heart hammered like it wanted to escape my chest. I was shaking uncontrollably.
I was scared. Like, actually terrified-out-of-my-mind scared.
I dropped the TV with a clatter and stared at him. He wasn't dead. Thank god. Just unconscious, with a swollen red mark forming on the back of his head.
My lungs finally remembered how to work.
I forced myself to turn and look toward the girl.
"…"
I stepped slowly, afraid even my presence might scare her.
"…H-hey," I muttered after some hesitation. My voice came out rough and cracked…probably from the shock of what I just did.
She didn't look at me. She kept staring at the floor, shaking, arms tight around herself. When she heard me, I saw a small flinch ripple through her.
"N-no… p-please…" she whispered, voice barely alive.
I reached out gently and laid a hand on her shoulder.
"I-I swear I won't hurt you," I said softly.
No response.
"You… you hear me?"
Still nothing.
She kept whispering, trembling, like she was stuck between fear and paralysis.
That's when I noticed it…a tiny mark on her arm.
My eyes widened.
"…He drugged her?"
That changed everything.
Whoever this guy was… he wasn't just some creep. He had done this before. And the girl wasn't resisting because she couldn't. Her mind and body were barely hanging on.
I glanced toward the phone on the shelf...the one he had used to record her.
"I-I'm gonna check on something, I'll be right back, okay?" I said, trying to sound gentle, even though my voice kept breaking.
I reached for the phone. My hands were still shaking so badly that I almost dropped it. I took a deep breath, grabbed it, and turned off the recording. The phone was still unlocked…thank god.
I opened the gallery.
What I saw made my stomach twist.
Dozens of videos.
Different girls.
Different days.
Different nightmares.
I nearly threw up.
I pulled out my own phone and started sending everything over with AirDrop. If someone else got their hands on this phone, they might delete everything. And who knew what kind of backing this guy had?
As I scrolled, I found a photo of a driver's license.
Jay Grey.
Age 18.
I shoved both phones into both pockets.
Then I scanned the room, searching for anything else useful…or dangerous.
Two backpacks sat in the corner.
One pink.
One black.
I crouched and opened the black one first, assuming the pink backpack belonged to the girl.
And what I saw inside…
…Made me freeze.
Made the hairs on my arms stand straight.
At first, nothing unusual…books, notebooks. But at the bottom, hidden between them, was a stack of powder. I instantly knew what it was.
"…Fuck"
How the hell did nobody search him? How could he just walk into school with ease?
Before I could think further, I heard his voice…shaky, furious.
A groan snapped me back.
"…Ughh…You're dead now, asshole."
Jay was awake. One hand pressed to his head, the other clutching something.
'Shit!'
He staggered forward, laughing dryly.
"You messed with the wrong guy. You're gonna pay for that stunt."
His footsteps echoed, slow, deliberate. He scanned the room, guard up.
My throat locked. I was shaking, exhausted, and starving. Words stuck in my mouth.
He glanced at the girl…now asleep, drugged, and then back at me. His grin widened.
"So that's it? You wanted to play some kind of hero? Pathetic. This isn't some movie motherfucker."
"N-no, I-I wasn't—" I stammered.
He lunged. The black object in his hand flashed…a knife.
Swoosh!
I dodged just in time, stumbling back. His arm was still forward, with a fast shift, he twitched his elbow and slammed it into my stomach. Pain exploded.
I groaned, clutching my gut. Even after taking a TV to the skull, he was still strong…Or I was just pathetically weak.
I backed against the storage wall, scanning for anything I could turn around my situation.
But nothing comes to my mind.
'Not good. I need to think fast.'