Ethan didn't die.
That was Jason's first mistake.
The second was believing fear would keep Loraine still.
The Escape
The rain helped her.
It masked the sound of her footsteps, soaked the cameras just enough, blurred the edges of the world. Loraine didn't think—she ran.
Barefoot. Shaking. Breath tearing her lungs apart.
Her hand clutched her stomach as if she could shield the life inside her from what she was about to do.
"I'm sorry," she whispered through tears. "I'm so sorry."
She wasn't running from Jason.
She was running from becoming him.
The Moment He Knows
Jason felt it like a scream in his skull.
The house—empty.
Her room—cold.
The air itself seemed wrong.
"Find her," he said, voice flat, dangerous. "Now."
He didn't wait.
He followed instinct.
Ownership.
Love twisted into terror.
Caught
She almost made it past the gate.
Almost.
His hand wrapped around her arm and yanked her back so hard she cried out. She fell, hitting the ground, rain soaking her hair, her face.
Jason loomed over her, chest heaving—not with rage.
With panic.
"Why?" he demanded, gripping her shoulders. "Why would you do this?"
"I can't breathe here!" she screamed. "You're killing me!"
His hands shook.
"You were carrying my child," he whispered. "You were supposed to stay."
"I was scared!" she sobbed. "I didn't ask for this—this prison—this baby—"
The word baby snapped something inside him.
Fear Turns Violent
Jason lost control.
Not because he hated her.
Because he loved her too much.
His fear erupted—raw, blind.
He struck her.
Once.
Then again.
Not to kill.
To stop.
To make the world make sense again.
"Stop running from me!" he shouted, voice breaking.
She collapsed, curling inward instinctively, protecting her stomach.
That was when he froze.
Blood stained her clothes.
Rain couldn't wash it away.
Silence
The world went quiet.
Jason fell to his knees beside her, hands hovering, afraid to touch.
"No," he whispered. "No, no, no…"
Loraine's eyes fluttered open.
Pain hollowed her voice.
"I told you… I was scared."
Her body trembled violently.
And then—
The life inside her was gone.
The Loss
Jason screamed.
Not loud.
Not wild.
A sound torn straight from his chest—animal, broken.
He gathered her into his arms, rocking her, blood soaking into his clothes as rain poured down around them.
"I didn't mean to," he whispered over and over. "I didn't mean to."
Her consciousness faded.
The last thing she felt was his tears falling onto her face.
Aftermath
Loraine woke in a white room.
Her body felt empty.
Jason sat beside the bed, unmoving.
He looked… ruined.
"I'll never touch you like that again," he said hoarsely. "I swear it."
She stared at the ceiling.
Something inside her had died—something beyond the child.
Trust.
Hope.
Fear had hardened into nothingness.
"You already did," she whispered.
Outside the Walls
Ethan watched the ambulance lights from the distance.
And smiled grimly.
Because monsters don't fall when they're angry.
They fall when they're afraid of themselves.
What Comes Next
Jason has crossed a line he can never erase.
Loraine has lost more than a child—she has lost her last illusion.
Ethan now knows exactly where to strike.
And love, once broken this way, does not heal.
It mutates.