The corridor warped as she hit the ground—this promptly shattered beneath her.
The impact didn't just hurt—it completely destroyed her, slamming through her defenses like they were never there.
Something in her back gave way with a sickening crack, and pain flooded her body so fast it didn't feel real at first—just white noise, then fire, then something worse. She tried to move.
Nothing.
Her mouth opened on instinct, dragging in broken, desperate breaths that didn't feel like enough. Never enough.
Her eyes snapped toward the thing standing over her.
Make it stop.
That was the only thought left.
She tried to arch her back—anything to escape the pain crawling through her veins—
—and a foot slammed into her stomach.
Air left her lungs in a violent choke.
Darkness swallowed her.
Then—
Impact.
A kick tore into her side, dragging her back into consciousness. Pain layered over pain until her mind couldn't keep up. The world twisted, flipped—
—and suddenly she was airborne.
For a single, weightless second.
Then she crashed into the corner where the walls met.
Something inside her burst.
A sound ripped from her throat—raw, animal, unrecognizable even to herself.
Pain didn't spike anymore.
It detonated.
clink… clink… clink… clang.
"Are you aware of the reason for your suffering, insect?"
The voice wasn't mocking.
Wasn't angry.
It was worse.
It was… neutral. Like stating the weather.
Silence followed.
Broken only by her breathing—ragged, uneven, wet.
Time stretched.
Then the chained girl moved.
Chains slithered forward like living things, wrapping into her hair and yanking her up. Her neck screamed in protest as she was dragged upright, forced to face—
that.
Blood dripped from her face, warm and thick, blurring her vision. Still, she saw enough.
Enough to wish she hadn't.
The chained girl leaned in, studying her.
"You are not part of the living," she said suddenly.
looking surprised.
hmm?.
She stepped back, muttering to herself.
"Not living… not living…"
Like she'd found a puzzle piece that didn't fit.
"I am."
The voice came out shredded, barely more than air.
It felt difficult to speak.
The chained girl cast her a side-glance.
Their eyes met.
Defiance stared back at her—cracked, bleeding, but unbroken.
"Release me," she rasped, coughing hard. "I won't return—"
Her body betrayed her.
Blood sprayed from her mouth as the coughs took over, violent and endless. Something inside her chest rattled—loose, broken, wrong.
She forced it down.
Forced herself still.
The chained girl frowned.
"You're not alive. The stench is obvious. The aura…" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Plain to see."
The chains reacted before she even spoke again, dragging the body farther away—keeping distance from the blood.
"A newborn… yet you dare presume to command me."
A pause.
"How bold."
She lifted a hand, dragging her fingers through her hair. Red clumps came loose, falling without care.
That small motion—casual, careless—made the broken woman tremble.
The clumps looked like congealed blood—so much of it that, at a glance, it seemed as though she was bleeding out. But it quickly became clear that wasn't the case.
Had she bathed in blood?It seemed she had made a grave mistake this time.
Forcing control over her trembling body, she tried to plead—desperate, stumbling words spilling from her lips as she begged for mercy, for her life, if such a thing was still possible.
If she had known… she would never have dared to attack the child.
"Please."
The word slipped out before she could stop it.
"Please. I'm sorry—I didn't know it was your—"
She never finished.
Her plea ignored.
Her scream stretched.
Long, Wet and quite frankly unnatural. Though how natural could a scream be when the victim is being thorn apart.
Chains had already pierced her—sliding into her body, pulling things that were never meant to be seen.
They didn't just hurt.
They burned.
Like something inside her was being rejected.
Her body shook violently as her insides were dragged out, piece by piece.
Still alive.
Still feeling.
Still aware.
"Exercise silence," the chained girl said absently, turning her head away, "or suffer more before your final breath."
She didn't even look at her.
Not anymore.
Chains wrapped around the woman's mouth, stuffing the screams into muffled, choking sounds.
Better.
Quieter.
Her gaze drifted.
Perhaps they have returned.
The thought lingered.
Then she waved her hand and walked away.
Something shifted behind her.
The gold skull tilted.
Then smiled.
Chains detached, writhing together, folding into shape—bone, spine, limbs. A mockery of a body assembled itself with creaks and metallic groans.
If anyone sane saw it, they'd probably think—
Why does that look like something from a biology diagram?
Of course, that thought required the luxury of safety.
The creature stood.
Its skull gleamed faintly.
Its body… didn't quite settle.
Always moving.
Always wrong.
It stepped forward.
The broken woman saw it.
Her eyes widened.
Too late.
"Good evening, young one."
It bowed.
Polite.
Almost gentlemanly.
Then it lifted its head.
Empty eye sockets fixed on her.
A long, slick tongue slid out, dragging across her face before slipping back in.
"Forgive my manners," it said softly. "I do look forward to our acquaintance."
The door shut.
Crunch.
Screams.
Laughter.
⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹⨹
"Seb! Seb! Seb—wake up!"
The world rocked.
Hard.
"Please!"
Voices overlapped.
Distant.
Muffled.
"Should you be shaking him like that? He looks terrible."
"Here—take this. Splash him with it."
"You idiot—that's good water! You want to waste it?!"
"Sorry, boss—"
"Give it here!"
"Give it," Chloe snapped.
"…Yes, ma'am."
Mike handed it over, though his face said everything his mouth didn't.
Waste.
Seb floated somewhere between sleep and drowning.
Something pulled at him.
Voices.
Pressure.
Wake up.
"I have an idea," Andrew whispered.
"What?"
"…Let me—or Mike—feed him. Mouth to mouth. Safer than pouring it."
Silence.
Then—
"What."
Chloe's voice dropped.
Cold.
Sharp.
"You think this is the time?" she said. "He's dying."
"I didn't mean—"
"Move."
While this occurred, Seb had woken up, but he couldn't move.
He panicked.
Nope.
Nope. Absolutely not.
He fought.
Hard.
Something heavy pressed him down, like being dragged underwater—but he pushed anyway.
I am NOT losing my first kiss like this.
Not like this.
Not to Andrew.
His eyes snapped open.
Light flooded in.
Morning.
"Seems like that worked," Chloe said softly.
Her voice… shaky.
Relieved.
"Spiritually, maybe," Mike muttered. "We could still test the physical method."
Seb's eyes widened instantly.
No.
No, no, no—
He jerked upright—
—and immediately collapsed again as dizziness slammed into him.
"Easy," Mike said. "You're not exactly in fighting shape."
"Seb, lie down," Chloe said gently, easing him back.
A face etched with worry.
Andrew appeared above him.
Too close.
Way too close.
Seb tried to move.
Nothing.
His body felt… empty.
His mind felt foggy and sluggish.
Like someone had unplugged his soul from his body after overdosing him with drug.
"Bro, relax," Andrew said. "You're gonna choke."
A bottle appeared.
Filled with something yellow.
Seb stared at it.
Then at him.
"…Urine?"
"Yeah. Squash," Andrew said. "Open up."
This is how I die.
Not monsters.
Not fate.
Not destiny.
Urine.
He was lifted—cradled—against Chloe.
Warm.
Soft.
Heaven?
No.
Trap.
Her hand clamped his face, forcing his mouth open.
"Pour slowly," Isabella said.
Traitors. All of you.
Seb tried to shake his head.
Failed.
Completely.
Why cant I move?
The liquid hit his tongue.
Sweet.
Shockingly sweet.
He froze.
…Wait.
Not urine.
Definitely not urine.
Relief hit so fast it almost made him emotional.
Then it stopped.
"Slowly," Isabella warned.
Short bursts followed.
Controlled.
Measured.
Half the bottle gone.
"That's enough," Chloe said.
She brushed his hair back, her fingers careful.
"You okay?"
Her voice cracked.
Just slightly.
Seb tried to nod.
Failed.
Again.
Fear crept in.
The last thing he remembered was—
The tree.
Watching it.
Then…
Nothing.
His eyes grew heavy.
Too heavy.
Slap.
Pain snapped him awake.
…Rude.
"You have to stay awake," Chloe said, panicking now. "You can't die on me."
Seb blinked at her.
Confused.
Then—
Wait.
She was crying.
Chloe.
Crying.
What kind of messed up emotional combo is this?
You beat me up AND cry about it? Pick a lane.
He tried to feel his body.
Nothing.
No arms.
No legs.
No anything.
Great.
Either I'm dead, or am paralysed.
He glanced at the others why wondering which was the better option.
They avoided his gaze.
He wondered why.
Mike straight up turned away and sat down.
Yeah, that's comforting.
Then—
CRASH.
Everyone froze.
Except Chloe.
She carefully lowered him, her gaze locked with his.
"Don't worry," she whispered.
"I'll protect you."
uh...thanks but from what
Then she stood and moved in front of him.
Hand raised
A Defensive stance.
Seb stared his mind still slow to catch up..
…Protect me?
From what?
His thoughts tripped over each other.
Why would she say that?
What happened to me?
Why can't I remember—
....
Growl.
Growl.
Something was rushing towards them and they seemed excited
Whatever it was—was fast.
High-pitched whines echoed through the space, getting louder.
Andrew barely stood.
Mike didn't even bother.
Seb couldn't move.
Couldn't turn.
Couldn't see.
Only listen.
And wait.