Chapter 5 — The Point
The night had been long.
Not violent.
Not chaotic.
Just endless.
Élise tried everything.
At first, methodically. She examined the muzzle like a technical object, not a threat. The stitching was reinforced. The leather double-layered. An internal structure prevented any real torsion.
The padlocks were heavy, precise. No play. No weakness.
She pulled.
Levered.
Tried to force space where none existed.
Every attempt only brought a dull ache in her jaw and a chilling certainty:
this was designed.
Not to surprise.
But to last.
By morning, sitting on her kitchen floor, she realized something simpler.
More primitive.
She was hungry.
And thirsty.
Drinking required careful movements, slow and awkward. Eating was nearly impossible—only soft food, taken with effort, just enough to quiet the pain in her stomach.
Her body kept going.
Demanding.
Counting.
At 7:00 a.m., her phone vibrated.
A map appeared.
A precise point at the edge of an abandoned industrial area. The kind of place no one noticed.
Below it:
“Tomorrow. 10:00 p.m.”
Then:
“You will be released there.”
She closed her eyes.
Released.
The word almost hurt.
She thought of her car.
Of driving.
Of that simple, mechanical normality.
Yes.
She could go.
The day dragged on. Too slowly.
Every movement was calculated. Every sound in the building made her freeze. She avoided mirrors, but felt the leather constantly—the weight of the locks with every breath.
Fatigue joined hunger and thirst, blurring the edges of her thoughts.
At 9:15 p.m., she prepared.
A long coat.
A wide scarf.
Hair tied low.
In the underground parking, the silence was complete.
Behind the wheel, her hands trembled slightly—but when she started the engine, something steadied inside her.
Driving was something she still controlled.
The road was almost empty. Headlights cut through the darkness in a steady rhythm. She drove slowly, focused on every sensation: the dry ache in her throat, the tension in her neck, the leather reminding her with each breath that she wasn’t free.
At 9:58 p.m., she parked near the point.
She stayed still for a moment, engine off, breathing deeply.
Her phone vibrated.
“Walk alone.”
She stepped out of the car.
Closed the door quietly, as if noise mattered.
The area was deserted.
Flickering streetlights.
Windowless buildings.
A silence disturbingly familiar.
But this time, she was awake.
Hungry.
Tired.
And fully aware.
Élise adjusted her coat, took a final breath—
and walked toward the glowing point on her screen.
Toward her release.
Or what claimed to be one.