As the morning sun cast its gentle golden rays through the kitchen window, I reached for the freshly purchased package of coffee - which I had purchased the previous night on my way home -, anticipating the comforting aroma that would soon fill the air.

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But my excitement quickly turned to bewilderment when a small folded piece of paper tumbled out of the bag and onto the countertop.

Perplexed, I picked up the note, my heart racing as I read the frantic plea, "Help me! I have been stuck in this factory for a decade!" It looked hurriedly scribbled in shaky letters, and the message sent shivers down my spine. There was no signature and no indication of who had written it, only the stark cry for help.

My mind started playing different tracks of questions. Who could be trapped in a factory for ten years, and why was this desperate message hidden inside a coffee package? I examined the bag, searching for any clues that might lead to answers. Could this be a prank? And if it's a prank, who would it be from?

I took a second look at the label which revealed the coffee's brand as "Morning Breeze Roastery," but the manufacturing location was only listed as "Factory #17."

I quickly dropped the note on the table and continued with my coffee. But the issue kept niggling at my mind and I couldn't help but feel like there was more to the story.

Determined to see where it led, I dialed the emergency number and informed the authorities of the mysterious note. Their response was typical and baffling. They insisted that there was no Factory #17 in the area, and immediately dismissed the situation, suggesting it might be a prank, a hoax or a branding malfunction.

Knowing fully well the shabby and dismissive nature of the police institution in my area, I decided to embark on a solo quest to unearth whatever mystery lied within the note.

Armed with the limited information and the caffeine rush from the steaming cup of coffee beside my system, I turned to the internet, scouring forums, and coffee enthusiasts' groups for any mention of "Morning Breeze Roastery" and Factory #17.

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After a few days, it looked as if I was embarking on a journey into the desert with no end in sight. Morning Breeze Roastery was evidently a prominent brand in the coffee business, but there was no mention of any Factory #17 in their details, and every call to the customer service ended in denial.

As I was about to log off and take a break from the quest, I received a beep notification from one of the forum, a member asking to speak to me about the Factory #17. Startled and excited at the same time, I quickly opened the message.

It spoke of a factory closure in a small, forgotten town, describing how Factory #17 had shut down a decade ago due to financial difficulties, and its location had become a well-kept secret.

My heart raced as I realized this might be the factory referred to in the note. I promptly shared my discovery with the authorities, urging them to reopen the investigation. This time, they took me seriously, and together, we began the search for Factory #17.

We combed through old records and followed the faintest of trails and finally stumbled upon the long-lost factory. It was an eerie, abandoned place, hidden away from the world, shrouded in secrecy. It had its east wing collapsed, with the whole structure covered in wild grass.

We cautiously entered the decaying structure, unsure of what we might find. The air was thick with the musty scent of neglect. We searched room by room but could not find anyone or anything until we decided to comb throw the debris of the collapsed area.

That was when we found a small hidden chamber that looked like it was either an exclusive zone or a centre's for illegality. But one thing was for sure, it was made to be hidden away from the general view. Inside it was a frail figure, barely clinging to life.

The person, emaciated and pale, was the author of the note. They had indeed been trapped in this factory for a decade, living in isolation, their story a harrowing tale of survival against all odds.

She had written the note, wrapped it in the coffee bag and slipped it through a little hole with the hope that someone would see it and come for her. This was after they abandoned the chamber during the rescue mission after it's collapse.

Her sister had refused to give up and had been going back to the factory to check every fortnight and had found the little note. Unable to raise the rubble, she had reported to the authorities who had dismissed her of faking it.

She had then decided to find a way to smuggle it into the new factory's packaging, hoping someone will find it and care enough to check it out. She was the one who replied to my message from one of the forum.

Apparently the company in a bid to keep the chamber secret had told the authorities that there's nothing down there, so that they won't discover their special, exclusive, but illegal coffee recipe. A coffee that could sharpen one's brain and keep them going for days without food. This was what our frail figure survived on for years, hoping that someday someone will find her.

The case of the collapsed building was reopened and the owners arrested.

As I was going home from the police station, that was when I realized that I hadn't eaten since the previous day apart from the cup of coffee, and I was having this surge of confidence throttling through my system with all my fears gone and my instincts operating at levels I never knew existed.

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