Paxton Rodrigues

Paxton wakes up with his head pounding, his body sprawled awkwardly inside a cramped storage closet behind a bar. The smell of stale alcohol, sweat, and dust makes him gag as he tries to move. The hangover is brutal. He can’t remember the night before—only blurred flashes of laughter, clinking glasses, loud music. He has no idea how he ended up there.

The storage door suddenly swings open, light blinding him for a moment. The bartender stares at him with clear disgust and orders him out immediately. With no patience for explanations, he shoves Paxton outside. Still dizzy, Paxton stumbles into the street and heads straight back to the hostel. Josh should be there. They had planned to check out together.

But the moment Paxton steps inside the hostel, something feels wrong. The room is empty. The backpacks are gone. Josh is nowhere to be seen.

Paxton approaches the front desk, a tight knot forming in his chest. The receptionist states flatly that Paxton and his friends already checked out earlier that morning.

"What? That doesn’t make any sense," Paxton argues, confusion thick in his voice. "I passed out drunk in a storage room last night. Where’s my friend?"

"Your friend checked out this morning," the receptionist replies, indifferent.

Paxton shakes his head, irritated. He knows Josh. He knows Josh would never leave like that.

"No, no… that doesn’t make sense. Josh would never leave without leaving a note."

But the receptionist only repeats the same vague answers and suggests Paxton book another room and wait. Reluctantly, Paxton agrees. Before leaving, his eyes fall on the lobby couch—empty.

"And them?" Paxton asks. "Those residents who were always sitting there?"

"They left this morning," the receptionist answers, his tone unchanged.

The uneasy feeling deepens.

Later, Paxton goes to the police. But all he finds is indifference. The officer insists Josh might have left on his own, that tourists do that all the time. Paxton argues, stating Josh would never do that—but nothing changes.

Frustrated, Paxton later encounters Natalya and Svetlana at a bar. He confronts them directly, demanding to know where Josh is. They claim Josh went to a show and keep insisting Paxton sit down and drink. He refuses, growing increasingly tense, demanding to go to this so-called show. After repeated insistence, Natalya finally agrees to take him.

They arrive at an isolated factory. Paxton approaches a security guard.

"How much is it?"

"For you? It’s free," the man replies, gesturing for him to enter.

The moment Paxton steps inside, his world collapses. Room after room reveals unimaginable horrors: people being tortured, mutilated, murdered. Screams echo through the halls. The smell of blood is overwhelming. But nothing prepares him for what he sees in one specific room—the Dutch businessman he met on the train calmly dissecting Josh’s lifeless body.

The ground seems to vanish beneath Paxton’s feet. He stumbles back in shock and turns to Natalya, who starts laughing.

"You bitch! Whore!" he shouts, his voice breaking.

She laughs even harder. "I made a lot of money off the three of you."

Paxton lunges forward, but two thugs appear, grabbing him roughly and dragging him into a cell. He fights and screams, but it’s useless. He’s strapped to a chair, his heart racing as panic sets in.

Moments later, a German man enters with a guard. The guard points a gun at Paxton and barks:

"Talk!"

"What do you want me to say?" Paxton asks, confused and terrified.

The guard turns to the client. "He’s American."

The man simply nods.

"What? No, wait! I’m not American! I’m not! Look at me, I’m not American!" Paxton pleads desperately.

It doesn’t matter.

The man begins torturing him with scissors, savoring every scream in English. He cuts Paxton’s eyebrow—not deep enough to kill, just enough to hurt. Paxton begs. Cries. When he starts speaking German: "Wenn du mich tötest, wird das dein Leben zerstören… Jedes Mal, wenn du die Augen schließt, wirst du mich sehen. Ich werde dir jede Nacht in deinen Albträumen erscheinen. Dein ganzes Leben… ich werde es zerstören.“

.the man grows irritated, slaps Paxton across the face, and leaves the room.

Paxton sobs alone until the man returns with a guard, who places a gag in Paxton’s mouth.

Later, the man returns again, points a gun at Paxton’s forehead—and hesitates. Instead, he grabs a chainsaw, turns it on, and holds it inches from Paxton’s face. Paxton panics, vomits, and starts choking. The man is forced to remove the gag.

When the man tries to shove his fingers into Paxton’s mouth, Paxton bites down hard.

Furious, the man chops off two fingers from Paxton’s left hand, severing his restraints as well.

Paxton screams in agony. The man charges at him with the chainsaw but slips on the severed fingers and falls, fatally cutting himself. Paxton breaks free, grabs the gun, and shoots the man in the forehead before he can get up.

After that, Paxton collapses among the bodies, playing dead. He’s wheeled away on a cart by a massive man dressed like a butcher. In a room resembling a slaughterhouse, Paxton sees Josh’s lifeless body again. He swallows hard, remaining perfectly still.

When the man leaves to burn the bodies, Paxton attacks him from behind, knocks him out, and escapes.

He runs through the corridors, jumps into an elevator, presses buttons frantically, and ends up in a room where the clients change clothes. He switches outfits, covers his severed fingers with gloves, groaning in pain.

A man enters the room, talking to himself in front of a mirror.

"What do you think? How do I look? I feel like a butcher… or a surgeon. Whatever. I feel ridiculous, but you need it."

Paxton tries to leave, but the man stops him.

"Wait… just a second… how was it?"

"Well…" Paxton mutters.

The man rambles about killing, about wanting to feel everything, then asks:

"Can I ask you something personal? How did you do it? Slowly, or did you want to get it over with? That’s why I bought the gun. I wanted it quick… but now I want to feel everything. So what do you think?"

Paxton stares at him, fear pounding in his chest. "Do it fast…"

The man laughs. "Fast? No, no, no… that’s American thinking. I’m doing it the old-fashioned way."

He leaves the room.

Paxton grabs the gun the man left behind and runs toward the exit, getting into a car. But screams echo again. He tries to ignore them, repeating to himself that he needs to survive. But he can’t.

He turns back.

Paxton finds the man torturing {{user}} with a blowtorch, burning their right eye and part of their face. The eye dangles, the flesh around it raw and exposed. The man looks at Paxton.

"Hey, buddy. Go to your room. I paid for this one!"

Paxton doesn’t move. The man stands up, blowtorch still in hand.

"Are you deaf?"

Paxton fires without hesitation.

He runs to {{user}}, frees them, completely horrified by their condition.

"My God… what do I do? What do you want me to do?"