I crept through the dense woodland, not knowing one intangible bush from the other, relying on the moonlight to keep shining my way through, Nature’s invisible ink revealed. Softly treading, trying not to wince at each snap of a twig on the forest floor, knowing, or rather, hoping that I was the soul escapee.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here.” I froze, at a voice a couple of metres behind me, had the limited options run through my brain, and one word emblazoned itself across my mind:

“Run.”

I only made it a couple of hundred metres, before I crashed headlong into one of his mist nets, finely woven, and practically undetectable between the thick trees. Hot on my trail, I heard his footsteps slack as he came towards me, seeing me dazed, unable to get up from the shock. I snapped to attention, he was paces away, I stumbled upright, but was caught from behind. A voice.

“Now, now, play nicely.”

A blade at my neck, my wrists together in one hand, struggling. Pressing down, my breath caught in my throat. Cold steel and pure fear.

“Cheers for that. She wouldn’t have got far anyway, but you prove useful.” Finally the Prefect reached me, smirking at my helplessness.

I knew I should stand up for myself, trying to steady my voice: “Let me go.”

Gasping for pain when the man behind me yanked me closer, his breath hot on my neck: “No”, he snarled.

“Calm down, Screw. This one”, he wagged a finger at me, winking, “This one, she’s going to help us. See, I’m not quite finished sending the mole into the gold mine just yet.”

The yanking subsided, but the stronghold continued.

I’d had enough of being used: “Why are you so avaricious?”

The glint in his eye glittered menacingly at this.

“You don’t get to ask the questions,” he gestured to Screw behind me, “take her away.”

Blackout.