If she had just ignored what she had found out, then she would never have put herself there.

She wanted to scream at that thought.

She needed to get free. She struggled again, a rumbling in the back of her throat, as she used all her strength to try and break whatever was holding her down.

It was no use. She wasn’t going to escape.

Natasha thought of Mark. Imagined him bursting into the… room? Warehouse? She didn’t know what. It didn’t matter. If he could find her, she knew he would help her get out of that place.

There was a noise somewhere in front of her, then a distinct changing of the atmosphere. It became colder somehow, as if the little heat that was in there had been sucked out.

Then, the voice again. Moving towards her. It set her back on edge, straining with everything she had, a noise escaping her throat. Instantly cut off before it could echo around her.

‘Shhh,’ the voice said, and it was somehow worse now. As if it had been merely playing with her until that point. ‘Stay calm and nothing will happen to you.’

She couldn’t place an accent or even something familiar about it. He sounded young, but she wasn’t sure if that was even right.

Natasha bucked and moved as she felt his breath again. His presence over her. Rocked back and forward, trying to do something. She needed to speak to him. Tell him he’d made a mistake.

‘It’ll all be okay soon,’ the voice said, something inhuman and perverse about the way he spoke. ‘He’s coming for you and it’ll all be over. The white knight, coming to save you. Riding in and saving the day. Only, we both know that won’t be the end of it.’

Natasha gritted her teeth and tried even harder to move, but it was useless.

‘There’s going to be a new game,’ the voice said, moving away now. His footsteps grew softer and quieter, as he crawled backwards. ‘That’s going to be your punishment for trying to stop us. You’ll be nothing but a shell by the time I’ve shown you the way.’

More time passed.

She exhausted herself trying to escape. The smell and dampness of the air was suffocating. A fog she couldn’t see, could almost feel.

There was no way out.

As the minutes ticked by on some unseen clock, the anger rose inside her. The silence became restrictive and mind-numbing.

Then, the presence came back. Hauled her to her feet and guided her on unsteady legs. When she fell over for the second time, she was lifted with ease. She struggled against it, but it was useless. Firm, painful hands pressed into her flesh, making her scream soundlessly with pain.