The moment I reached Maisie, my heart sank in the deepest pit of fear I'd ever known. Her tiny hands were trembling as the guard held her tightly. I didn't care that I was panting, bruised, or mentally exhausted — I had made it. I was going to get her out of here.
Then—
BANG!
BANG!
The shots rang out like cracks in my soul.
"MAISIE!" I screamed, my voice shredded by panic.
I watched in horror as the man holding her dropped to the floor, blood staining his back. But what chilled my blood wasn't his fall — it was Maisie's. Her small frame hit the cold ground like a feather, and her dress bloomed red at the stomach.
My scream pierced the silent, cold maze. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. My body froze even though my mind begged it to reach her.
"That's what you get for playing hero," said a voice as venomous as a snakebite.
I turned my head slowly to see her — the mayor's daughter, standing with a smoking gun and an arrogant smirk.
My voice cracked. "You... You shot her. She's just a child. She did nothing."
"Collateral," she replied casually. "The cost of your stupidity."
I stumbled toward Maisie, dropping to my knees beside her. Her lips quivered, her hand reaching for mine. Her eyes were clouding.
"Maisie, stay with me, baby. You're okay, you're going to be okay," I whispered, brushing her blood-matted hair from her forehead.
She smiled weakly. "Harpie... did I... did I do good?"
"You did amazing," I sobbed.
Her eyes fluttered shut.
I screamed again, louder than before, as I held her close.
'Nooooo!!!!!!! Please don't leave me Maisie!!!'
---
CODE Headquarters
The CODE headquarters was silent as the scene played on the central screen. The staff, usually bustling, were frozen — as though time itself had paused.
"This wasn't part of the test," Natalie muttered, horrified. "She's... she's not supposed to go through this."
The Gamekeeper didn't reply immediately. His gaze was fixed on Harper, on the still, broken figure cradling the lifeless child.
The air began to crackle. Terminals flickered. Lines of code blurred and scrambled.
"Sir, the system — it's reacting," said one of the technicians. "Harper's emotion levels just hit a spike we've never seen before."
Natalie turned to the GAMEKEEPER . "What do we do?!"
The Gamekeeper's jaw tightened. "We wait."
"Wait?!"
---
***** Harper
They surrounded me.
Guns. Thugs. Cold expressions.
And all I could do was kneel there.
Maisie's hand was still in mine, small and limp.
She had died with a smile.
The mayor's daughter stood behind them, triumphant. She received a call, laughed like she had won.
"The mayor just cleared it all up. Public support is back in our pocket. See, Harper? We always win."
My ears rang. My soul cracked.
I laid Maisie down gently, pressing my forehead to hers.
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."
And then something snapped inside me.
I stood. Slowly. Silently.
My hands were stained red, my eyes hot and dry.
The thugs laughed.
Then I looked up, and they stopped laughing.
My eyes... something was wrong with them.
I felt it.
Chris's voice was a whisper in the back of my mind. "Harper... you're changing..."
I didn't respond.
I didn't feel like Harper anymore.
I screamed.
A scream so primal it shattered the quiet.
And then I attacked.
Everything was a blur of fists, rage, and raw grief.
I fought through them all. I broke bones. Snapped joints. My fists became weapons of fury. My mind blanked with vengeance.
The mayor's daughter ran.
I let her. For now.
I collapsed beside Maisie again, whispering, "If I don't kill her for this, Maisie... I'll die trying."
---
Minutes Later
The ambulance arrived too late.
I didn't look up when they zipped the small body into the bag.
I didn't speak.
I didn't even cry.
Until someone handed me a note.
Written in a child's handwriting:
"Please save Sophie, Harpie."
I broke down.
*****
The night was quiet, too quiet for a man heading into the fire.
Mark gripped the steering wheel with one hand and clutched the holstered gun at his side with the other. He drove alone, headlights carving narrow paths through the night fog as the city blurred around him. The guilt he carried was heavier than his badge — heavier even than the loaded pistol he had every intention of using tonight.
"I should have never brought her into this," he muttered.
He wasn't talking about Harper anymore.
He pulled up in front of the safehouse. It was hidden among worn-down brick homes and empty streets. A few dim lamps lit the pathway. He left the car running for warmth, unsure whether this visit was a goodbye… or something worse.
He stepped out, straightened his jacket, and took a long breath. Just see her one more time. Then go.
He reached for his phone to text Samantha, but she had already appeared at the door.
"Mark?" she called. Her voice trembled — not with fear, but hope.
"I needed to see you before I go," he said, walking toward her.
She didn't hesitate. She started running.
He opened his arms wide, and she ran faster, like she had so many times before.
But just as she was about to reach him — Mark's steps faltered.
His face twisted in confusion, then pain.
A loud crack shattered the silence.
"Mark?" Samantha stopped.
He clutched his chest.
"Mark!"
Another crack. A second shot. This time, it hit the car behind him.
Mark's knees buckled.
"No… no, no, no…" Samantha rushed forward just in time to catch him before his body hit the ground. His weight sank into her arms.
"Mark! Look at me!"
His shirt was soaked with blood, warm and spreading fast. His hand, shaking, reached for her cheek.
"I… I didn't want her to carry this alone," he whispered.
Samantha's lips quivered. "Don't talk. You're going to be okay. I'll call—"
"There's no time. Just… listen."
His breath rattled. His skin was pale.
"Harper will find her. She's… stronger than any of us thought."
"Mark, don't—"
"I love you. Always did."
Tears streaked down Samantha's face as she held him tighter, but Mark's hand had already dropped, limp at his side.
"No…"
She shook him. "No, no—wake up! MARK!"
But he was already gone.
The safehouse door remained wide open. Somewhere far away, the car engine still hummed.
Samantha didn't scream at first. She was too stunned.
Then came the agony.
She let out a wail that pierced through the night — louder than the shots, sharper than any blade. She curled into his chest, blood soaking into her sweater, pleading, begging, shaking.
Inside her, something snapped.
---
Later that Night
I dragged my feet through the dark until I reached the safe house.
Blood — Maisie's — still covered my sleeves.
I opened the door.
"Aunt Samantha?"
No response.
I stepped further in and gasped.
She was there — motionless, slumped on the floor, blood dripping from her arms.
"Aunt Samantha!"
I rushed forward.
She moved.
Barely.
And then — she slapped my hand away.
"Please... leave."
Her voice was hoarse.
I froze. "What? What's going on?"
She clutched her chest. Her eyes were wild with grief.
"You shouldn't be here. Everyone around you dies. Just... go, Harper. Leave."
I stood there. Numb.
'Please tell me Aunt, what did I do wrong? I won't leave until I know what the matter is'.
'You want to know what the matter is?'
'Yes. Please tell me'
'The matter is, you killed my husband '
'What?'
The world stopped moving for a few seconds as I tried to understand what she meant.
'Uncle? Where is he? And what do you mean by that? Why would I kill my own uncle?'
'Because of you Harper, my husband is dead! Please leave me alone! I don't need your help anymore '
I felt numb.
First Maisie.
Now Uncle Mark.
And Aunt Samantha had broken.
Chris whispered from inside me. "We have to end this. We have to fight back. We can't stop now."
I nodded. A fire ignited deep inside.
This ends with her.
The mayor's daughter.
Even if it kills me.