Morgan woke up shivering.

The cold bit into her skin, sharper than anything she had ever felt before. She curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her body, but it didn't help. The floor beneath her was hard and freezing, like ice-covered stone. The air smelled strange—metallic, sterile, wrong.

She tried to sit up, but her limbs were sluggish. Her head pounded, her vision blurry from whatever they had injected her with.

Where am I?

The last thing she remembered was the van. The men. The needle.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she forced herself to look around. The room was small, with steel walls and a thick metal door. No windows. The only light came from a dim bulb flickering above her.

It was a cell.

And she was alone.

Morgan pushed herself up onto her knees, her breath coming in short gasps. She wanted to scream. Cry. Beg for someone to help her. But she knew no one would come.

No one even knew she was gone.

Her body ached, her small hands trembling as she wrapped them around herself for warmth. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was just a little girl. She was supposed to be at home, supposed to be safe.

The door creaked open.

Morgan froze.

A man stepped inside.

He was tall—taller than anyone she had ever seen—with broad shoulders and a long black coat. His face was pale, his sharp cheekbones casting shadows under the dim light. But it was his grin that made Morgan's stomach drop.

It was wide. Too wide. Like he knew something she didn't. Like he enjoyed the fear twisting inside her.

He didn't say anything.

He just stood there, grinning.

Morgan's breath hitched. She pressed herself against the cold wall, trying to make herself smaller.

The man took a step closer.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

Another step.

She wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.

Then he crouched down, tilting his head as he studied her like she was some kind of puzzle.

His grin never faded.

Tears burned in Morgan's eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

She had learned a long time ago that crying never changed anything.

Instead, she clenched her fists, trying to stop them from shaking.

The man chuckled, as if he found that amusing.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"Welcome home, little one."

Morgan's blood ran cold.