“YOU b***h!”
Maya didn’t wait — she ran for the door, legs shaky, vision swimming. Her body was still weak, but adrenaline pushed her forward. She reached for the doorknob —
Only to be yanked backward by a brutal, inhuman force.
“No—NO!” she screamed, nails clawing at the floor.
Beckett dragged her back, panting, limping, rage transforming his face into something monstrous.
“You stabbed me?! Still playing hard to get? Let’s see how long that lasts!”
He shoved her down and ripped the syringe from his pocket with shaking hands.
Maya fought wildly — kicking, scratching —but she was slower now, weaker, every movement sluggish.
The needle plunged into her arm.
She screamed. He held her down.
Seconds passed.
And then the room began to tilt.
Her vision blurred. The shadows stretched.
