Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Late at night, Linden Park Apartments lay drowned in darkness, with only a handful of windows leaking a faint glow.
Most of the motion-sensor lights in the hallway were broken. One flickered on with every step I took, casting shadows that lurched after me.
Pulling my coat tighter, I stepped outside to call the elevator for my roommate. The instant I crossed the threshold, supernatural livestream comments flashed before my eyes.
[Run, Claire! Her parents are hiding in the stairwell! They took a $300,000 bride price to sell you into a forced marriage in a remote mountain village!]
I had barely read the warning when something rustled behind me. A heavy canvas sack dragged across the floor, accompanied by ragged breathing that echoed through the empty hallway.
The lock clicked sharply behind me.
My only way back was gone.
At two in the morning, my phone had suddenly vibrated beside my pillow. Wendy Weston’s name flashed across the screen. When I answered, her tearful voice came through the speaker.
“My heart’s acting up. I ordered some medicine, but the delivery driver can’t get into the building. Could you go call the elevator for me? Please.”
We were roommates, and I had no reason to suspect her. I agreed without a second thought, threw on a coat, and headed for the door.
But the instant I stepped halfway into the hall, lines of glowing white text appeared out of thin air and began scrolling before my eyes.
[Claire, run! Don’t go out there! Her parents and brother are waiting in the hallway to ambush you!]
[It’s true! In the canonical source story, this is when Claire gets trafficked to a remote mountain village and forced to marry an old bachelor in exchange for a bride price. She’s already been through this death-reset loop who knows how many times!]
Every hair on my body stood on end.
I spun around and lunged for my room, but the moment my hand closed around the doorknob, I realized Wendy had locked the door from the inside. I shoved against it with all my strength. It didn’t budge.
“I’m sorry, Claire,” Wendy said through the door, her voice cold and resolute. “My parents said if I don’t find another woman for them to take back, they’ll sell me instead.”
Before I could process her words, several pairs of footsteps sounded from the direction of the stairwell. They were coming closer.
The comments multiplied, scrolling faster and faster.
[They’re here! The traffickers are coming with the sack!]
[Hold on, Claire! You only have to survive thirty minutes before the police arrive. Whatever happens, don’t let them catch you!]
“That ungrateful little brat thought she could move to the city and get away from us? In her dreams!”
“We’re taking that woman back tonight. The old man in the village promised a $300,000 bride price. If she gives him a son, he’ll pay another $100,000!”
A woman’s shrill voice carried from the elevator lobby.
That was when I knew the comments were telling the truth.
Chapter 2
No wonder Wendy had invented an excuse to lure me out in the middle of the night. From the very beginning, she’d seen me as nothing more than a bargaining chip she could trade for her own freedom.
The footsteps drew closer, accompanied by harsh, labored breaths.
I pounded on the door and shouted Wendy’s name, but she refused to open it.
[Stop knocking! It’s useless! Wendy’s watching you through the peephole. She thinks you can’t escape, and she’s actually smiling!]
[Forget the door! They’re almost there. If you waste another second, it’ll be too late. Are you trying to get yourself killed?]
[Hide in the stairwell! It’s your only chance!]
I clenched my teeth and stopped pounding.
Turning, I sprinted into the stairwell and slipped behind the fire door. Through the narrow gap, I watched the hallway outside our apartment.
First, I needed to know how many of them had come.
And whether they were armed.
I’d trained in boxing since college. Two hours a day, every day, had given me far more core strength and stamina than the average woman. If it came down to hand-to-hand combat, I might have a fighting chance.
But I wasn’t about to rely on that alone.
I pulled out my phone and quickly typed an emergency message to the police.
“Linden Park Apartments, Building 8, Unit 3, Apartment 02. Three suspected human traffickers are attempting to abduct and sell me. They are currently outside my apartment. Send help immediately.”
The moment the status changed to Sent, some of the tension in my chest eased.
Only a few seconds later, a middle-aged man and woman appeared outside our apartment. The man carried a black canvas sack. The woman planted both hands on her hips.
Robert and Marian Weston. Wendy’s parents.
“Wendy! You ungrateful little bitch!” Marian hammered on the door, then began kicking it, her face twisted with rage. “Open this door and come home with us! That man offered a three-hundred-thousand-dollar bride price. You’ll have an easy life once you marry him, so stop being difficult!”
When no one answered, Robert handed the sack to Marian and joined in. He was much stronger than his wife. Each kick made the door thunder in its frame, as if it might burst open at any moment.
“You worthless girl! Get out here!” he roared. “Three hundred thousand is serious money. You think we came all this way for nothing?”
“When I get inside, I’ll break your legs, stuff you into that sack, and deliver you straight to your new husband!”
Hidden behind the fire door, I watched them carefully.
The sack was all they had. Neither of them seemed to be carrying a knife or any other weapon. Marian was small and thin, and she didn’t look particularly strong.
Maybe she was my way out.
The thought had barely formed when the supernatural livestream comments refreshed before my eyes, dousing that flicker of hope.
Chapter 3
[Don’t do it, Claire! Whatever you do, don’t try to take Marian down!]
[Two loops ago, Claire tried to ambush her and escape, but she ran straight into Wendy’s brother, Wyatt. He knocked her unconscious with an axe and sold her!]
[Wyatt is the most vicious one! He has an axe. In another loop, he beat Claire to death with it. She can’t face him head-on!]
Two loops ago?
Another loop?
A chill swept down my spine as I stared at the comments. A horrifying possibility took shape in my mind.
Was I trapped inside a fictional world caught in a death-reset loop?
Was I doomed to be trafficked or murdered by the Weston family, over and over again?
Before I could make sense of it, Wendy’s voice rang out from inside the apartment, shattering my last trace of denial.
“Dad! Mom! I got my roommate out of the apartment!” There was an ingratiating note in her voice. “She’s prettier than me, and she’s taller too. You’ll make a lot more money if you sell her instead!”
“I saw her run into the stairwell. Hurry up and catch her!”
Robert and Marian immediately stopped kicking the door.
Slowly, they turned toward the stairwell.
Through the narrow gap beside the fire door, my eyes met theirs.
Both pairs burned with greed and vicious intent.
The next second, the two of them charged toward the stairwell, the black canvas sack clutched between them.
Run, Claire! Don’t just stand there! They’ve seen you!
Don’t go downstairs! Wyatt Weston is already inside the building and coming up!
Head for the rooftop! You can lock the fire door from the inside and buy yourself some time!
Survival instinct overwhelmed fear. The moment I saw the supernatural comments, I spun around and raced up the stairs.
If Wyatt was already on his way up, then my best chance was to keep climbing and avoid him.
The footsteps behind me drew closer, accompanied by ragged breathing and shouted curses. I forced my exhausted legs to move faster. Just before they caught up, I burst through the rooftop fire door and locked it behind me.
“You bitch! Open this door! Get out here!”
“Open up now, or we’ll skin you alive when we get through!”
The door shuddered under a barrage of heavy blows as Robert Weston roared threats from the other side. Fortunately, Linden Park Apartments had excellent fire-safety installations. Once locked from the inside, the steel fire door wasn’t going to give way quickly.
I leaned against it, gasping for breath. As soon as I had my breathing under control, I forced myself to think.
I was on the top floor, while the elevator was still on the eighth. Maybe I could use it to create a false trail and buy myself more time.
I hurried to the elevator and pressed the call button. A second before the fire door burst open, I threw myself inside and hit the button for the first floor without hesitation.