Chapter 41: Queen of Novel: The Factory

The heavy sliding door slammed shut with a sickening, metallic clatter, plunging them both into pitch-black darkness.

The engine roared to life, the tires squealing against the asphalt, leaving nothing behind on the empty street but Ananya’s dropped school bag and a terrifying, absolute silence.

Inside the back of the moving van, the air was thick with the smell of rust, gasoline, and dust. The floorboards rattled violently as the vehicle sped over the uneven roads.

Ananya scrambled through the dark, her hands scraping against the cold metal floor until she bumped into Rohan. The moment she found him, her remaining composure completely shattered. She threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight, desperate hug, burying her face into his torn shirt.

"Rohan..." Ananya sobbed, her whole body trembling violently. "I’m so scared. I’m really, really scared..."

Rohan was in agony. His ribs felt like they were on fire, and his newly bandaged head throbbed with a sickening rhythm. He was shivering from the sheer shock of the beating. But feeling Ananya crying against his chest flipped a switch inside the nine-year-old boy’s mind.

He bit his lip, swallowing his own groans of pain. He wrapped his bruised, trembling arms around her, holding her just as tightly.

"Don’t worry, Ananya," Rohan whispered, his voice shaky but laced with a fierce, unwavering promise. "I am right here. As long as I am with you, no one will be able to do anything to you. I promise."

For the next twenty-seven minutes, the van drove recklessly through the city, taking sharp turns that threw the children against the hard metal walls.

Finally, the vehicle slowed down. The crunching sound of tires rolling over loose gravel echoed from outside before the engine was abruptly cut off.

The heavy sliding door was yanked open, letting in a sliver of fading, gray evening light.

"Get them out," the scarred boss ordered roughly.

Massive hands reached into the back. They grabbed the children and hauled them out of the van.

Ananya blinked against the light. They were standing in the middle of a massive, desolate compound. Towering concrete walls surrounded a crumbling, abandoned factory. Broken windows, rusted machinery, and thick vines crawling up the decaying brickwork made the place look like a graveyard for metal. There wasn’t another soul in sight.

"Take them inside the factory," the boss barked to his men. "Put them in the back storage room."

The goons dragged Rohan and Ananya through the heavy, rusted iron gates of the factory floor, pushing them down a long, echoing corridor. They shoved the children into a small, windowless concrete room that smelled strongly of mold.

CLANG.

The heavy steel door slammed shut, and a loud padlock clicked into place from the outside. They were completely plunged into darkness once again.

Outside the room, the scarred boss gestured for his men to stand guard. He pulled his battered black cell phone from his pocket and dialed the number of his employer.

It rang twice before it was picked up.

"Boss," the scarred man said, his voice dropping to a respectful, subservient tone. "We did exactly as you asked. We have brought both of them to the abandoned factory. What do we do next?"

The distorted, raspy voice of the mysterious mastermind filtered through the speaker.

"Good job. But listen to me very carefully. Did you, or any of your men, hurt them in any way? Did you put a hand on the boy?"

The scarred man frowned, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Why, Boss? He’s just a little kid."

"Because," the mysterious voice hissed, carrying a sudden, terrifying chill, "if you shed even a single drop of that boy’s blood, you have signed your own death warrants. That boy is not just some ordinary kid from the streets. You have no idea whose blood runs in his veins. If you hurt him, all of you will die before the night is over."

A cold sweat broke out across the scarred man’s neck. His mind immediately flashed back to the street just an hour ago—his men kicking the boy in the ribs, punching him in the jaw, leaving him bruised and bleeding in the dirt.

Fear, sharp and sudden, gripped his chest. If the mastermind knew they had brutally beaten the boy, he would kill them himself.

"N-No, Boss!" the scarred man stammered, lying through his teeth out of pure terror. "Don’t worry. We didn’t hurt them at all. Not a single scratch. They are perfectly safe."

"Good," the voice replied coldly. "Keep them locked up. Wait for further instructions."

The line went dead.

The scarred man lowered the phone, his hand shaking slightly. He looked around at the dozen burly, armed men standing around the factory floor. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the sudden spike of paranoia.

He’s just trying to scare me, the boss thought to himself, puffing his chest out. We have a lot of men here. We have weapons. Even if the kid’s father is a gangster, nobody can take down an entire crew alone. Nothing will happen to us.

Inside the pitch-black storage room, the air was cold and suffocating.

Ananya and Rohan were huddled together in the far corner, sitting on the cold concrete floor. Ananya had her knees pulled tightly to her chest, her logical mind completely paralyzed by the sheer terror of their situation. There were no formulas to calculate a way out of a locked steel room.

"Rohan..." Ananya whispered, her voice echoing faintly in the dark. "I’m so scared. What are they going to do to us? What is going to happen now?"

Rohan shifted slightly, wincing as his bruised back scraped against the rough wall. He reached out in the dark, finding Ananya’s cold, trembling hand, and squeezed it gently.

"Don’t worry," Rohan replied, his voice calm and incredibly steady for a nine-year-old in agonizing pain. "Nothing bad is going to happen to us. We are both going to get out of here."

Ananya sniffled, her analytical brain desperately searching for a reason to hope. "How? How are we going to get out?"

Rohan paused. He looked toward the pitch-black steel door.

"I don’t know," Rohan admitted honestly, a soft, confident smile touching his bruised face in the dark. "But I am sure we will be saved. We just have to be brave for a little longer."

He tightened his grip on her hand.

Internally, Rohan was terrified. His body felt like it was breaking apart, and he wanted nothing more than to cry for his father. But he knew that if he broke down, Ananya would lose all hope.

I cannot be weak right now, Rohan thought to himself, gritting his teeth in the dark. If I cry, Ananya will be even more terrified. I have to be the strong one. I don’t care who those men are or how big they are. As long as I am breathing, I will not let a single one of them touch my friend.