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I held River tighter in my arms, angling him away from the onlookers. “Something’s wrong here,” I muttered, interrupting our small group.

Oliver looked at me quizzically. “No shit, man. Where the hell is she?”

I swallowed. “I think he got her.”

“Who?” Jackie asked.

“The Watcher.”

A Eugene resident was declared missing late Monday morning after her vehicle was found abandoned in a neighboring town. Lead detective on the case, Darren Ransom, is unable to comment at this time, but rumors among residents believe that her disappearance wasn’t a coincidence, though the town remains tight-lipped on the details of this speculation.

We have reached out to her loved ones for comment. Long time friend and co-worker, Jackie James, whose name you may recognize as a prolific writer at Fibonacci Files, was quoted saying;

“She wouldn’t just leave without notice, without letting someone know where she was going. Goldie was taken, I know it, and we’ll find her. You hear that, Goldie, no matter where you are, don’t give up because we won’t stop looking.”

No leads have been made public at this time. Please keep your eye out for her. She is 5’4”, long black hair, and dark brown eyes. She was last seen in a rust red sweater and jeans. If you believe you have information on her disappearance at this time, please contact the Cherrytree Hills Sheriff’s Department.

Back to you, Bill.

Goldie

Ihadn’t believed in fate, nor luck, nor karma. I had believed in humanity, understanding that I was subject to the consequences of other people's actions—forced to exist in a world where, no matter how good or honorable a person I was, I wasn’t exempt from pain or suffering. The only person I could control, the only person I could count on, was myself.

My parents were gone, my brother was states away, and my uncle was stuck in his ways. My blood family was never reliable. The family I had chosen… well, they had their own lives and their own worries. They didn’t mean it, but I was often lost in the chaos—an afterthought to their true families. I knew they loved me, but that didn’t change the truth: I wasn’t the most important person to someone… to anyone. I never had been, not since I was a kid.

It was my job to put myself first. To save myself.

But I may have finally reached my limits, finding myself in the one situation I couldn’t save myself from.

I peeled my eyes open, my head aching from a spot on the side, radiating across my skull. I braced myself to be hit by the light, but was confused when I couldn’t see anything. My eyes were open, weren’t they? I squinted around, trying to find my bearings, to see anything, but it was pitch-black.

I felt around me, using the senses that did work. I didn’t think I was blind. Though I couldn’t see anything, something deep within knew it wasn’t my eyes, but the lack of light—my vision lost to the darkness.

I sat up slowly, my hands on what felt like a mattress: the slight sense of padding underneath me, but barely any. Thin fabric covered the mattress, but it was obviously dirty; I could feel the grittiness between my fingers. It wasn’t just my head that ached, but my entire being—a bone-deep throbbing as my senses came to.

Slowly, so very slowly, my eyes adjusted around me. It was still dark, nearly black, and I couldn’t see far, but if I looked just right, I could see my hand in front of my face.

I racked my brain to figure out how I got here, but my last memory was pulling into the high school for the meeting in Cherrytree Hills. I couldn’t even remember if I had put my car in park and left or had driven away. I reached to the side of my head to find the source of my pain, but stopped midair when I heard steps.

Soft and impossibly quiet steps, but with my vision affected, every other sense was amplified. I didn’t speak, I didn’t move, holding my breath. I didn’t feel fully in my own body and mind; I was aware of my surroundings, but was disconnected from it all, unable to experience it completely.

I screeched when a flame clicked on, revealing a standing figure on the other side of the room. Whoever he was, he was tall and gaunt; his face remained a mystery, the light not strong enough to show him fully this far away.

He coughed and cleared his throat before finally speaking.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice was rough, as if he hadn’t used it in far too long.

I scrambled backward until my spine slammed into the metal headboard. Jerking my knees up against my chest, I locked my arms around my shins, tucking my chin low in the dark. I pressed my lips together, breathing solely through my nose so he wouldn't hear the ragged gasp trapped in my throat. Every muscle in my body locked tight. I didn't know this man, didn't know his face—and I certainly wasn't going to give him a sound until I knew if he was the reason I was locked in this room.

He walked slowly toward me, his steps still quiet, as if he had practiced the motion over the years. He approached me, a lantern in his hands now visible as the source of the light—a single flame that seemed impossibly bright in the dark room. He set it on the end of my bed and sat next to it. He didn’t close the distance, and he didn’t speak. He just sat quietly, stoically.

“Where are we?” I asked, squinting in the dim light to try and make sense of what was around me.

“We're in the rooms right now,” the man explained, his eyes meeting mine briefly. He was far too pale, his dark hair cut roughly around his head—a hack job, for sure.

As my eyes adjusted, I was able to see him more clearly, and I realized he wasn’t a man. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old… maybe sixteen. Tall, yes, but a man, no. It was a gut feeling, but I knew he didn’t bring me here… wherever "here" was.

I looked around the room, waiting for my head to clear as the weak light revealed where I was. The space matched his description: metal bed frames with rough straw mattresses lined the opposite walls in neat rows. All of them were empty, except for mine. My mattress was the only one draped in a tan sheet, prepared specifically for me.