Hey everyone, thanks so much for sticking with it! You guys are so amazing! You honestly have no idea how happy it makes me just seeing the number of people reading each chapter.

I'd like to thank SammyStarFly for your review. You reminded me to do something I completely forgot to do so thanks for that.

Sorry about any errors, I'm kinda new to this whole Fanfiction thing so I'm learning as I go. Any pointers or feedback would be sooooo appreciated.

This is the longest chapter so far, nearly reaching 6,000. It might seem that I'm trying to gradually increase the quantity of my chapters but this is just due to how I want to structure the story. The next one might just be 1,000 words so I hope you don't mind. Though I doubt the next one will be so short

Anyway, enough boring talk. Enjoy and have a Super day! =D

Black is the New Red

"What was that about?" I asked after The Pale Teacher was out of hearing range. He put his hand on the back of another student's neck –who did not react- and gave me a glance. Then continued on his rounds.

"Looks like he's got his eye on you", replied The Boy, twirling a paint brush between his fingers though badly. The item kept dropping onto the table with an annoying "clack".

And it looks like you're back to normal again.

The Man was already back to finger painting when he said, "Not good".

From what I could comprehend, The Boy switched between clarity and non-clarity at random. The Man, on the other hand, was constantly between the two states. As if he was stuck in that place amid sleeping and waking. He was dreaming but conscious enough to know that; thus he was capable of controlling his thoughts, actions and speech. At least a little bit.

The Pale Teacher began to tear down the charcoal drawings that decorated walls. He let them drop to the floor but from where I was sitting I couldn't see where they landed. The fewer pictures there were, the more I could see of the walls. They were a dark grey and glinting in the natural light, almost metallic. For some reason, staring at them made me feel trapped, stifled.

I freed myself by ripping my gaze away from The Pale Teacher and landed them on my desk. A number I hadn't detected before was written onto a piece of paper and taped onto the top left of my table, 319. I was number 319.

I found it hard to breathe and had no idea why. Everything about this environment made me want to run away and never come back.

I moved my eyes again and forced myself to watch The Man's deft fingers move across his busy page. That calmed me. Art always did. At least that's something I did know for certain.

From the way he moved them so quickly, you might think he was making images at random without thought, but I could tell it was not so. His digits had a precision that I was envious of. Whatever it was that he was creating, he was using a piece of his heart to do it.

From the corner of my eye I saw The Pale Teacher walk to the front of the class room, next to a busy desk. He clapped his hands to gather his student's attention.

"It looks like our time has come to an end", he began. I glanced around to see a clock but found none. "I know this news fills you with unimaginable grief. Some will find it took difficult to leave while others...", his eyes locked with mine and stayed there for the duration of his closing speech, "will do anything they can to come back. But do not worry! It is the end but only for now. I have taught you all I can for the present and can proudly say that your education is coming along fantastically" he smiled and turned out to be even more frightening, " Just before you go out and run wild, I want you to know that we will be with you, every step of the way. Watching you. Nurturing you. After all, we wouldn't want any accidents, would we?" He clapped his hands again to show his soliloquies' completion.

In the same beat, students around the room stood up and started chanting. The only people that remained seated were The Boy, The Man and myself. We stayed discreet though The Man was mumbling something that might have been the same few words as the mindless students. Initially, I hadn't a clue what they were saying. They were loud and clear but the language was not English. I was having trouble separating the long bouts of sound into separate, distinguishable words.

Then The Boy stood up and started chanting too, slamming his foot down to add to the rhythm. His voice was filled with passion but his face was filled with apathy.

He aided me with my confusion. They were shouting, "Jus drein, Jus daun. Jus drein, Jus daun. Jus drien, Jus daun". The Pale Teacher stood there, basking in the energy, smiling his smile.

For a second, I wanted to join them.

The chanting stopped abruptly. Silence reigned once again.

The Boy sat down and actually looked sheepish for his contribution. It was obvious he did not understand what he had just done.

When he calmed down, I asked him what the words meant. I believed if he so readily said it along with a mob of people, then it made sense that he could translate it for me. But he couldn't, instead he indicated to my blank piece of paper with his head and said, "I thought you could tell me".

My blank piece of paper wasn't so blank anymore. In my closed fist I found a large red marker. It was still moving across the page before my other hand stopped it. My handwriting on the top of the sheet was neat and small. The further down it went the bigger and more erratic it became with a thicker font as if I was roughly stabbing the page with the marker.

The same phrase was written roughly a hundred times, "Blood must have blood".

I wrote some horrific phrase multiple times without even noticing. I extracted the pen from my dominant left hand then rubbed it to calm my discomfort.

The Pale Teacher exited the room through a door that didn't exist while I was distracted. So did everyone else apart from my new, sort of, companions. The three of us were finally alone. I could question them without fear of discovery. I let out a relieved sigh but stopped when I saw what replaced them.

It was outside, floating high enough to be visible through the window. It was bigger than before, big enough to block the incoming light and pack the entire room with a dark, transparent red. An image came to mind, of guns pointing at me until I was buried in Red Dot Sights.

Although it had no eyes, I just knew that The Red Thing was staring right at me.

I slumped down low and planted my feet on the ground, positing myself so I could stand and run at a moment's notice. The Boy was 'awake' -thank God- and had also noticed our strange new light scheme. I slowly put a hand on his knee under the table to let him know that I was just as aware as him. When he turned to me, I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed how soundless and unmoving I wanted him to be. He gave me a slight nod.

To The Man I whispered, "I don't want to panic you, but I need you to stop painting. In fact, it would be great if you could stop moving", my voice betrayed my panic rather than convey the calm I wanted it to.

He ignored me. I tried again a fraction louder, "Please! I need you to stop and look at. Now!"

That worked. His head snapped towards The Red Thing. A little too quickly for my liking. Fortunately It didn't react. Had yet to move.

"What do we do?" Asked The Boy.

I shook my head, "I don't know".

"You knew last time", he replied.

So he does remember.

"Yeah, well last time I had quite a bit of practice".

The Man decided that talking was of no help and started to stand. His movements were slow and fluid, like a beautiful panther slinking thought the trees.

That, The Red Thing noticed. It moved closer to the window.

"Stop! If we move at all, we move together. We only have one shot at this. Right?" I asked, keeping my eyes on It. They both nodded. "Do you see an exit?" I continued.

"What do mean? There's one right behind the big guy", replied The Boy.

"What? No there-", but there was. A simple silver door just standing where there was once nothing. I was sure there wasn't one there before; actually, I'm not sure of anything anymore.

"Okay...okay, this is what we are gonna do. When I count to three, you two will sprint to the door. You ", I indicated to The Man, "are closest to the door so when you reach it first, open it for this guy before going through yourself", I theorised that his sheer size would be able to open the entrance even if it were locked. And close it behind him if something tried to get out.

"What are you going to do?" Asked The Man.

"This thing is fast. Faster than any of us. I'll run in the opposite room and distract It while you guys escape", I answered, swallowing my fear.

He must have known what I meant by 'distract' because he said, "No. We all go. Or we don't go".

I bit my lip, wondering if I should just agree to make him feel better then go on with my plan.

"He's right. You got us this far", The Boy chipped in. I thought he was joking but he looked sincere, "We all live, or we all die".

Well if you're both gonna gang up on me.

"Alright. Alright. Together", I said. Together, echoed that strange voice in my head.

During our conversation, The Red Thing moved closer.

Now or never.

"You guys ready?" I put my hands on the table in preparation to launch myself up and over the desk. The Boy did something similar. The Man, who was already standing, bent his knees.

I ignored the part of me that worried that The Boy might go back to his 'sleeping' state; that The Man might suddenly find his painting to be more important than our lives and not make it to the door. If this didn't go perfectly we would definitely die. Again.

"One", I breathed, inhaling as deeply as I could to account for the bout of Hyperpnoea that comes with sprinting.

"Two", I leaned forward and put more weight onto my hands and feet.

"Three!"

I stood and jumped over my desk. My left hip slipped along the corner. The Red thing burst through the windows.

It's entry slowed down time.

Shards of glass stopped in mid fall. Twinkling like red stars all around me. I ran into the explosion of crystal and felt myself brush against the pieces, displacing them in the air. I must have been doing that one simple action for an hour at the excruciatingly slow pace everything was moving. To the left was The Red Thing, stopped in its advance by time. Its colour blared a shade of red more powerful than before, creating a hazy ring around it.

The Man was the last thing I could see and the fastest amongst us. He already managed to reach the door even at this speed. His arm reached out. Fingers extending to wrap around the door's knob. The muscle on his neck stood to attention. His eyes held the same determination as they did while he painted.

Just. A little. More.

The instant his middle fingers touched the metal knob, time righted itself again. Sound returned too. The Boy shouted "faster!" then pushed me forward. I had no idea he was so close behind me.

The Red Thing zoomed past, just barely missing our backs.

The Man was now close enough to yank the door open so he did. Instead of passing through it, he grabbed my arm and pushed me over the threshold. After me came The Boy, then The Man.

The slamming of the door reverberated through the quiet, stark white hall.

Here we go again.

We walked because I refused to run down these damn hallways again.

We didn't talk, though occasionally The Boy would say something strange to The Man like, "Dude, I love your hair". The resulting replies consisted of nods or shakes of the head. Rarely The Man would actually speak and when he did, he used monosyllables.

The Boy had remained lucid since our second great escape.

"How much longer do ya think we'll have walk? My feet are killing me", he said.

Oh! My foot doesn't hurt!

I didn't grasped it until he mentioned it but I felt no pain. In fact, I felt great. I glanced down and could find no trace of injury.

"How am I supposed to know? It's not like I have a map", I retorted.

"We draw near", The Man interjected softly.

"How do you know?" The Boy asked.

The Man lifted one shoulder in a sort of shrug, "Sense it".

The next few minutes of walking was doused in silence. The Boy no longer felt comfortable interviewing his new companion and I found myself missing the distraction. I was left in the dark abyss that was my thoughts. Sucking me deeper and deeper until my chest hurt.

What if all this, is some kind of punishment? What if I'm here because I did something terrible? Something unforgivable? The Pale Teacher kept going on about being selfish versus being selfless. Was he talking about me? If so, then which am I? Which should I be? Do I deserve to get out?...Is there even an 'out' to get to?

My incessant internal questioning deterred me from hearing the pitter-patter of rain straight away. A soft "ssshhhh" that told me that the water drops were light but many. A heavy mist.

"Do you hear that?" Asked The Boy.

I nodded, "Maybe it's a way out!" I couldn't help the excitement that bubbled up and walked faster.

I looked back to The Man to see what he thought. His eyebrows bent down in worry as he shook his head. The sound did no please him. He halted our group.

The noise grew in volume; deciding that if we were not going to it, then it would come to us.

The Man did not like this situation at all. He crouched down low and backed into us so we would recede back down the contrastingly dull hallway. It didn't matter, the "sssssssshhhhhh!", already reached us.

The rain did not derive from a cloud. In its place, it fell from the ceiling. Each drop visibly spawning on the smooth surface before dwindling down. It was ten meters away from us, volume increasing exponentially in greeting. Filling the hall with fog.

The rain was red. Not the thick, dark end of blood that I had seen nonstop every day.; the liquid still contained the consistency as water, it just had an added ingredient that brought about its aesthetic.

A strong current of red ran down the walls around us, melting away the white coating the way acid would.

I felt a tug on my hand, "Get away from it", said The Man, "get away now!"

Don't need to tell me twice.

The three of us did an about face and sprinted down the direction we came from.

We ran down the hallway and took countless turns left and right for another age. Again.

I was starting to feel the burn in my thighs and labour in my lungs. The back of my neck was uncomfortable damp and clammy. I wished I had the time to stop and tie it up. This time running nonstop was affecting my body physically. Last time I could have run for hours without breaking a sweat.

"Wait! Stop! I need to stop", I said each word jammed between deep pants. I placed my hands on either side of my waist.

"We cannot. We must keep going", said The Man in his usual, clipped tone.

I glanced back to see that The Mist had yet to round the corner that stood a good distance away. Thankfully, we had a little breathing space.

"We can't keep going this way! We'll run right into that Thing!" I shouted, desperate.

"Better. Better than what is behind us," he replied, remaining in a calm that I was incredibly envious of.

"What do you mean? Do you know what that was?"

He shook his head, "But I know it is bad", he replied. I couldn't disagree with him.

"There has to be another way", I said quietly, more to myself than either of them.

"Well, if you have any ideas, I would love to hear them. I don't really feel like dying today. Maybe save that for tomorrow", quipped The Boy for the first time since we stopped.

"I don't want to either. Believe me. Just give me a second to think", I snapped back. He put his hands up in defeat while keeping an eye on the direction The Mist would emerge.

We can't go forward and we can't go back. Both directions mean some form of death. Most likely each equally horrific and excruciating. So running's out, there is nowhere to hide in an empty hallway and fighting is definitely a no. What do we do?! I rubbed the heal of my hand into my eyes.

If you're not satisfied with the path available, make a new one. It was back. That voice in my head that couldn't be mine but had struck no doubt in my trust.

Of course! That's genius!

I clenched my hands into a loose fist then started to bang it on the white wall closest to me.

"Sorry for interrupting your 'episode' but we don't really have time for you to lose your shit!" exclaimed the boy grabbing onto my shoulder to break me from my task.

"Wait! Can't you hear that? This entire section is hollow. I don't think there is anything on the other side of this wall!", I rapped on the surface again, it gave a loud "thunk!"

I started ramming my shoulder against the wall, trusting that my actions would explain better than words during this time constraint. The bend of my shoulder managed to create a dent but just barely.

"It is here", mumbled The Man while grabbing me by the arms and moving me out of the way. He subsequently started to kick at the wall with his foot around the place of dent. He really was a large man.

The Mist was sharing our hallway by the time The Man succeeded in ramming his foot through our latest obstacle. Seeing this spurred The Boy into action. He started kicking the wall with the other male.

I stood and watched as The Mist grew closer. Unlike The Red Thing, its pace remained constant which scared me more as it was rapidly reaching our small motley crew. Everything was drip, drip, dripping red, like a picture caught on fire, the melting paint running down to escape the frame. I've been meaning to try my hand at painting…

If I take just one step forward and extend my hand, then I'll be able to touch it without really touching. I'd know why we were so scared. Why I need to keep running. And it's so very pretty.

My companions were tearing at their growing crater, scratching and scratching like wild animals. They paid me no mind.

I took one step. Pushed my hand in front of me. Any second and flecks of mist would touch my fingers. Any second and I'll know. Any second.

"No!", shouted The Man, pulling me away, "It is time to go".

The Boy already escaped through the wall when The Man chose to push me through. For the second time in so many hours.

The Mist reached it's victims. Preparing to give The Man a friendly pat on the back.

Then I was falling.

With my memory consisting of only Whites and Reds, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when I landed in nothing but Black. Though I have to admit, I would have been appreciative if there was just a tad bit of light.

Regardless, I was surrounded in Black, Black and more Black. Turning my head this way and that, I could see nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not the nose on my face nor the hand that swept the air in search of contact.

The darkness' enveloped me in its comforting embrace, chasing away all things bad.

I debated standing up. The Boy and The Man (if he managed to flee from The Mist, and I prayed that he did) were most likely wandering around looking for me. I should get up. I should get up and find them.

I drew my legs closer so my knees touched my chin. I rested my forehead on them and wrapped my arms tightly around the longer limbs. I'll find them.

There was no smell in The Black. No sound and no smell. It felt like I was floating on a cloud. It occurred to me that I might have died. That death was this endless nothing. Surprisingly this did not scare me. Instead, I found myself nodding off.

A hand clasped onto my shoulder. I released a loud shriek while falling onto my side. My arm thumped against the floor I couldn't see.

"It is me".

The gruff voice and bizarre way he didn't use abbreviations almost made me cry in relief. If I was dead, it was nice to know I wasn't alone.

I grabbed onto The Man. Easy since he was the only thing visible. He seemed confused but did not move away.

"I thought The Mist got you", I said as way of explanation.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he said, "Almost". He was proud of himself. I was proud of him too.

I grinned at him, "You see the other guy?"

"Right here", said The Boy, walking towards our seated forms from the right.

He gave me his hand and helped me stand. I smiled because I could feel him. He was solid and real. Maybe I wasn't so dead after all.

"Where do you think we are now?" he asked us.

The Man shook his head while I said, "No idea".

The three of us stood there for a long moment before we started walking. There was no point discussing any sort of plan.

Sometimes, survival means moving forward without wasting on thoughts of tomorrow. Sometimes, that is all you have left to do.

The direction was completely random and since there was nothing but Black, we weren't even sure if we were walking in a straight line.

I didn't want to trap myself in silence so I asked them what they remembered of their lives. The Man's existence started in that Art Class. He told me painting was all he knew and all he wanted to know. I asked what he was painting when we met him. The Man just said "A strong woman", without elaborating. I didn't push.

The Boy remembered me. He remembered The Red Thing. He just had no memory of dying. I felt closer to him as he told The Man the story of our dance with The Red Thing; our endless running through hallways that were often made of glass; of our ride on what he still called 'The Phoenix Rollercoaster'. Right now, he knew me better than anyone else in the world. And I knew him.

Gradually, sparks of bright lights appeared all around us. The area above our heads to the area below our feet. I initially recoiled from them, thinking of the shards of glass that flew in the air when The Red Thing came. When they did naught but twinkle, I relaxed again.

Eventually there were thousands of them. Stars that should have provided a little light but instead made the Black all the darker.

"Are we in-", I began

"Don't say it", interrupted The Boy.

"-Space?", I finished.

"She said it".

"It brightens over there", said The Man, pointing to the left where there were more stars, "Should we approach it?"

I could tell he was asking me more than anyone else hence I quickly replied so The Boy wouldn't notice and take offence, "Might as well". It's not like we actually have a choice.

The Stars congregated together into a Milky Way that twirled around us. It led us to a window.

Circular and large, it was framed by a thick, rusting, metal rim. It looked insane just floating there in a sea of stars. We couldn't see what was on the other side of the thick, tinted glass so The Man approached it.

I grabbed his arm, "We don't know what it is. What it means". Something about the use of metal as a building material was so incredibly unnerving. It reminded me of the bars of a cage.

He placed his hand over mine to comfort as well as extract, "It is time we find out".

The Man, so much braver than the rest of us, continued on with his intent. I didn't stop him. He reached the window then just stood there. Neither moving nor speaking.

"Well? What is it?" The Boy asked after the moment gave way to the next. The Man didn't reply.

I gingerly walked to stand next to him. Partly because I didn't want to startle The Man, but mostly because I did not wish to be anywhere near that Floating Window.

"Oh my God", I breathed.

"What? What is it? Is- Oh..." The Boy said as he moved next to us.

We three stood in a line of silence. I barely breathed, I was so much in shock.

On the other side of the Floating Window was not a black space of sparkling stars as logic would dictate. Instead there was a well-lit room. A white washed hospital type room with white various machines, gurneys and IV drips on metal stands. There was three of each. One for every occupant of the room.

The individual closest to us looked an awful like The Man. The same could be said for the patient in middle looking like The Boy and the one on the far end of the room might be mistaken for me.

"That's-", started The Boy

"No", I interrupted

"That's-",

"No!"

"Yes. It is us", interjected The Man with a low but authoritative tone.

"That's not possible! We are us!" I pleaded, desperate for him to be wrong though knowing he wasn't.

"Yet it is so", he replied. His tone was calm but when I looked him in the eyes, I could see that the revelation made him sick.

Our doppelgängers seemed to be in some form of coma. They each had monitors that beeped along with their pulses. Tubes down our throats to pump oxygen in and carbon dioxide out. The Intravenous fluid continued to drip fluids into their bodies while catheter bags hung on the side of each bed. I could see no sign of external injury on any visible surface of skin; therefore I surmised that our brains were at fault.

"Is this what happens when you...end up...like that?" asked The Boy.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know the answer and I couldn't figure out what he needed to hear. I remained silent.

The heart monitors subtly increased.

Putting my left hand up, I was suddenly struck with the urge to touch the glass that separated us and them. Neither male stopped me as I touched the membrane with my middle finger. I expected to meet resistance, to feel the cool, solid form of glass. What I did not expect was my hand to go straight through.

Nothing broke. The window stayed the same, floating before me. My hand went through what I can only describe as a Portal. A portal to somewhere I could not see. I quickly pulled my hand back and to my side. Inspecting it, I found no abnormalities. The others did the same, making up their own minds on what just happened.

"I think this might be...I think this might be the way out...", I thought out loud.

"Why do you say that? This, whatever this is, could lead to anywhere. Or it might just kill us. Ever hear of radiation? Why the hell should we just blindly go through it?", retorted The Boy

Well, if it does kill us, we will just restart this day. No biggie.

I didn't tell them that. As an alternative I said, "I think it's the way out because it makes no sense", at the perplexed looks I received I continued, "Behind a wall, in a place filled with nothing but stars is this Floating Window with people who might very well be us in a place we can't get to. It's all so incredibly random. Until now, we kept going along with things that were logical to us. We ran down hallways, escaped through doors and ended up in rooms with Things that wantws to kill us because that was the path that made sense to us. The path that was made for us. For the first time in my short memory, I actually feel like I've been given a choice. I want to make my own choice... I need to. Besides, I'm tired of repeating the same tragic day over and over again. I would gladly die for something new…But that's just me", I scratched the back of my head and looked down, instantly feeling embarrassed after my lengthen outburst.

I meant every word of it.

"I concur", said The Man, thankfully ignoring my discomfort.

The Boy made an exasperated noise, "Fine. If you're both going I'm not gonna stick around here by myself. Besides, it's not the craziest thing I've done...I think", I smiled gratefully at The Boy's ability to diffuse the tension with humour.

"So we all go through together. Agreed?" I asked, looking at them both, wanting to make sure that this was the right decision.

"Agreed", said The Man.

"Agreed", said The Boy.

"I will go first." demanded The Man. I know he was trying to do the heroic thing. We didn't know what was on the other side and he wanted to make sure we had a fighting chance if anything happened to him.

The thing is I wanted out of this place more than anything.

The Man looked at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. He opened his mouth to argue but I didn't think it worth it. I nodded to him, agreeing.

He gave my shoulder a squeeze as a goodbye. The action surprised me but I was happy he did it. If he hadn't, I would have done so anyway. The Man swiftly climbed through the Floating Window. One second he was with us. Then the next he wasn't.

We waited a beat to see if anything would happen; a scream of agony or a shot of joy. It didn't.

"I'll go next", said The Boy.

"But-", I started.

"I will go next", he said with the most austere expression I had yet to see on his face. How could I say know when he looked at me like that. I nodded in agreement for the second time. It appeared that when it came to these two, I would never have my way.

He grabbed me into his arms and hugged me with a astoundingly severe strength. It was his way of thanking me for all I had done for him. It was his way of telling me that he wouldn't begrudge me if this ended up destroying him.

"See you soon", he whispered into my hair.

I smiled and looked away before I started crying.

The Boy went through the window, taking with him the only thing that felt even slightly familiar.

"Guess it's my turn", I whispered to myself. The sound echoed emptily in the never ending space.

"You sure about that, kiddo?" I just about jumped out of my skin. I whirled around but no one was there.

"Where are you? Show yourself", I shouted into the Black.

"Can't, not this time", the disembodied voice was definitely male. From the slight gravel, I guessed he was a great deal further on in his years. I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Would you look at that, The Kid is speechless".

"Who are you?", still looking around, expecting a person to appear without much ado.

He sighed sadly and I was unexpectedly hit with a love so strong, I nearly collapsed. I know that sigh. It's a sound that preludes an upsetting conversation. A conversation that either ends with a laughing hug or heavy tears.

"Sorry, kiddo. I can't tell you that either. But I do have a lot to tell you with little to no time so please listen carefully. You know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important...", he sounded so very sad.

I did as he asked. He didn't talk long. His voice was well articulated and soothing, I didn't miss a word. But after he was done, I found I hadn't understood a single thing he said. Nevertheless, I tried to memorise each sentence. Committing it to memory so I could analyse his speech at a later date if I survived.

"And make sure not to forget again, kiddo...", he continued, "more than anything, I love you".

"Wait! I don't understand what you want from me! You need to explain it to me again!" I shouted.

I was only met with silence.

"Hey! Are you still there?! Come back! Please!" I shouted, even louder. Nothing.

"Damn it!"

I shook the irrational grief that crept through my heart, steeled myself, then climbed through the Floating Window before anything else showed up and stopped me.