I glanced back a couple of times, but I couldn’t see anyone. The streets were deserted, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. I picked up my pace, trying to shake off the paranoia, but just as I was about to turn another corner, a hand clamped over my mouth, and a rough bag was shoved over my head. I screamed, but the sound was muffled. I struggled, but my arms were pinned, and I felt myself being dragged away.
It felt like an eternity before the bag was pulled off my head. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dim light of a vast, empty room. The walls were bare, and there was a faint smell of dampness in the air. I heard footsteps, and a potbellied man with a greasy smile stepped forward.
“Well, hello there, Mrs. Gebbert,” he said, his voice thick with a foreign accent. “My name’s Viktor. You don’t know me, but I know your husband very well.”
I didn’t recognize him, but there was something about his eyes that sent a chill through me. “What do you want?” I asked, my voice trembling.