Oh, dear.
It doesn't take more than a glance to explain what exactly lies before them, in the third trial that awaits the two supposed criminals.
The moment that Ray and Zack enter the room, the glint of metal and the mixed scent of blood along with something cloying and rough hits them. A few steps inside, and the entirety of the area becomes crystal clear:
A room filled with spikes.
Sharp, razor-edged pointed blades jut out from deep pits in the floor. The platform they stand on is connected to a rickety, rather broken and mangled bridge that doesn't look like it'll hold for much longer, and there are various platforms around the room- far too placed apart to be safe for someone normal to simply jump across.
Approaching the bridge carefully, Ray glances down into the pit below. It seems to stretch out along the room, broken up by the sparsely placed lifted platforms and half hidden in the limited light. Patches of blood here and there indicate that someone must've tried making their way across before.
"it's dark and barely visible, but the floor looks deadly," Zack comments, peering over her shoulder.
Before she can answer, the now-familiar sound of a static transmission fill the air around them. Their gazes are drawn far across the room, where a TV screen that had been camouflaged in the shadows comes to life.
"Greetings!" Cathy giggles, and her image appears on screen. She twiddles her fingers around the riding crop in her hand, her green eyes glimmering noticeably even from this far. "Welcome, kids! Congratulations on making it this far! As you can see, make one wrong step and you'll fall to your spiky demise!"
Her laughter erupts from her throat with glee as she continues. "But... it's actually not as bad as I make it out to be. There are just two paths; yep, the path for each just winds up in a slightly different place, that's all. Which path you take is entirely up to you!"
Ray can feel herself growing colder just by hearing the woman's words, and Zack is strung tight as taut wire by her side, barely holding silent.
Though she says these things, there must be a catch.
"Well, punishment awaits beyond here as well though, right? Anyways, which will it be? There are two of you, after all. Isn't it about time to end this silly charade? You and your childish promises— it's laughable. I think it's an unfair promise... considering you will die anyway."
Her wide, eerily pleased grin sets Ray's teeth on edge. She can't put her finger on why, but somehow, Cathy's words are able to get under her skin, just a little. Not to mention, every time she mocks the vow that Zack had made with her, it makes her skin crawl.
"Enough about that!" The irritatingly high-pitched voice dismisses her thoughts with a light chuckle. "In this room anyways, the both of you won't be taking the same path! Best of luck; I'm waiting to see who gets condemned first!"
The transmission cuts out, and the screen goes dark, fading into the background once again. Once the silence returns, Zack breaks it again, ruffling the hair peeking out of his hoodie.
"Shit, why's she gotta make everything so tedious?" he grumbles angrily. "When the hell can I get outta here? Aaah, gotta keep my cool... That stupid cackling bitch, I wanna chop her to bits so bad..."
Ray glances at him, her mind whirling with thought. She doesn't understand why Cathy enjoys tormenting and toying with them so much. What does she stand to gain from these things besides amusement? Or maybe that's truly all she wants... her sinners to dance along with her to the music she chooses.
Zack really looks annoyed, too... Talking about killing her so easily. Hopefully he'll make sure to kill me, too, after it's over.
He catches her eyes on him, and narrows his own.
"Hey! What are you still spacin' out for?"
"...After you take care of that woman, be sure to kill me too once we're out." she responds coolly.
Two beats pass before he throws a hand in the air with an eyeroll to follow, shaking his head.
"Fuck! Man, you got a one track mind!"
She levelly stares at him. "...You don't seem willing to kill me, after all."
Zack looks taken aback by her statement, like she's spoken something she shouldn't, before thinking something over quickly and huffing.
"It's 'cause of that vacant look of yours! Oh, and my promise to you is not good until after we get outta here!" he replies, and she sighs.
"...I'm aware."
"Do somethin' about that vacant doll-faced stare of yours in the meantime," he demands, "And while you're at it, stop askin' me stupid shit, got it?"
Ray frowns at him. "...But..."
He slides the scythe over his shoulder and throws her a sideways glance.
"A promise's a promise... Quit orderin' me around so much."
...He's right.
His words jostle her back into a familiar state of mind, and though she's still perturbed by Cathy, she feels a bit calmer somehow. With his statement, she feels like the promise holds more weight.
"...Okay. I'm sorry," she replies, eyes growing a little softer.
Zack gazes at her for a moment, his expression becoming even harder to read than usual beneath his mask of bandages, before he glances away.
"...Let's get goin'," he mumbles in return.
The two of them face the unsafe-seeming bridge that lies before them. The ropes holding it in place look frayed and weak, like they've been here for quite some time.
This must be the way forward. We'll have to tread lightly.
Ray steps onto the bridge, but as her weight settles onto the passage, it creaks with warning, making her withdraw the action worriedly.
"Hey, what's the matter?" Zack inquires from right behind her.
She turns to look his way. "This rope bridge could snap at any moment. I'm not sure it's sturdy enough for me, let alone the both of us..."
He toys with his weapon irritably, displeased.
"Huh?! There's no point unless we both get outta here!"
He's right about that. If he can't escape with me, then he can't kill me. We have to find another way.
"...Damn," she swears. "How about we look elsewhere?"
Her gaze flickers down the platform they stand upon, and she trails along it until she reaches where it abruptly comes to a halt. A gap stands between her and the next one, a jump most likely too far away to make normally.
"Looks like we can make it if we jump," Zack comments as if reading her thoughts, and she gives him a dubious brow raise.
"Jump? That far...? I'll never make it."
One look is enough for him to realize she's right.
"...Awwww, shit. Alright— want me to chuck you over then?" he offers, and her skepticism only grows. Her memory of being recklessly thrown in the gas room is still all-too fresh.
"...Can you repeatedly fling me over to the other side?" she asks.
Zack scans the dim path ahead of them, as if pondering the outcome.
"...Well, if I screw up, then you'll fall head first," he notes. "Flingin' you is a cinch, the problem is I can't control how hard I throw you."
His nonchalance about it proves only to discomfort her further. She shakes her head. "...In that case, let's not."
Shrugging his shoulders, he concedes. Instead, they traverse the rest of the area for another route, but they find nothing to help them. Finally, Zack turns to her with frustration in his bi-colored eyes.
"Hey, what's the plan? We're gettin' nowhere fast," he says, his mouth thinly twisting.
The option that lies before them isn't one she particularly enjoys or approves of, but seeing the routes ahead of them, there's only one choice to be made. Ray brushes her long blonde bangs from her face and speaks.
"..We've no choice but to split up," she says gravely.
His eyes grow wide. "Huh?! Will we make it if we do that?!"
"...I'm not sure," she murmurs quietly, and his eyes flash.
"'Not sure'? What the hell happens if we die?!" he exclaims fiercely, but she only tilts her head.
"...What happens?" she repeats.
I die, and it all ends. That's what happens, isn't it?
Zack watches the expression on her face change slightly, and he seems to realize he said something silly. He exhales loudly.
"Aaah, fine. Sorry for askin' somethin' so dumb," he grumbles, then whips away from her, waving a hand toward the bridge.
"...Let's move!"
Ray watches him walk away from her, toward the wide gap he'd wanted to toss her over, and with a quick running leap, he makes the large jump with a little bit of stumbling, disappearing out of her view.
I guess he's made his decision on where to go. I need to get going too, then, if we're going to meet at the end.
Knowing that he's already making his way to the other side, she starts across the bridge, and her brows furrow at the way it creaks and bends under her. She knows she's not as light as a feather, but she's also not very heavy either— meaning this bridge is even more old and unsafe as she'd assumed.
I'd barely make it across...
Suddenly, there's a strange click to her left. Her eyes widen, and she twists her head around to see something hard to make out sliding out of the wall.
...A gun!
She barely dives back to the steady platform before the gun fires where she'd stood, the bullet whizzing past amidst the sound and scent of gunpowder. Breathing hard, she picks herself up off the ground where she'd fallen and stares out across the bridge. This trek would be a bit more dangerous than she'd thought, as well.
I've got no choice but to cross and make sure not to get shot...
She risks another glance in Zack's vanished direction, before steeling herself for what's ahead— and then running through.
Sprinting across the unsteady bridge, she hears more than one gun slip out and train on her, the click of them readying to fire putting haste into her steps. She ducks under the path of one gun, realizing that they seem to be rooted to one spot— dodgeable if she's quick enough, and she won't be followed by it.
Using this to her advantage, she keeps herself going, not focusing on the harsh, eardrum-rattling sounds of bullets flying inches behind her. Instead, she runs from platform to platform, finding a couple more bridges akin to the first that barely hold her when she jogs through, threatening to snap under her every movement.
Finally, she stops on a final platform, and she recognizes the big TV screen that Cathy had broadcasted herself onto earlier. The gunfire also seems to have stopped, and she straightens up enough to look around, thankful she made it through.
I somehow made it...
Another pressing thought imprints itself into her mind, and her eyes strain to catch sight of Zack anywhere, her next concern being his whereabouts considering he's not with her.
...Zack...?
She edges closer to the side of the floor, noting there's another platform on the other side of a still-uncrossable gap— and realizes that the TV screen seems to be displaying something she hadn't noticed before. She peers closer, noting that it's in split-screen mode; showcasing her, surprisingly, and...
What's this? Zack and I are shown on the screen?
.x.X.x.
Hey, another gun...?
The hooded boy glares out into the darkness, trying to use his sharp hearing for more of the raucous and distinct sounds of gunshots. He'd been ready to make some progress ahead through the bitch's little funhouse room, but the disturbing noises of guns firing where Ray'd been stopped him in his tracks.
The first one made him stop, but by the time he heard at least four or five, he felt his gut turn cold with the thought. He replaced the possible concern with anger instead, gripping his scythe tight.
Hope she's not gettin' any ideas about gettin' herself killed...
Still, he hesitates to move forward, especially at the sudden silence. For some godforsaken reason, he keeps imagining making it to the other end and finding her bloody corpse lying on the other side somewhere. It makes him want to fucking hurl just thinking about it.
In honesty, he didn't want to separate from Ray, especially knowing how trigger-happy little miss master-of-the-floor could be considering the last stupid ass 'punishments' he'd dealt with. Fuck, he can still feel the volts of electricity flooding his veins...
...And see Ray's pale, clammy face left weak with poison.
Aww man... The noiret tenses up easily, his ire for Cathy beginning to shine through again, barely held in. At this point, he relishes the thought of her blood coloring his hoodie and seeing that fucking smug-ass smirk of hers ripped off, especially for what she's putting him and Ray through. The young blonde flashes through his mind again, and he growls deep in his throat.
There's no point thinkin' about this bullshit.
Pushing out any other stupid thoughts out of his mind, Zack stares out at dark path before him.
So... I just gotta jump over the floor and cross to the other side, eh?
Seeing a square-shaped platform ahead of him, he runs for it and leaps onto it, easily nailing the landing even with the small amount of leeway. But when he straightens out to the sight of several more of them surrounding him, he grows easily irritated.
What the hell?! Which way do I jump?! Aww... shit... I'll get there if I improvise.
Letting instinct take over, he chooses a random path and follows it, going from platform to platform without hesitating— until he reaches one where the next jump is far too distant for even him to reach.
Shit...! I can't jump that far!
He turns around to glance the way he'd come, and he frowns.
Damn, which way do I go?
"Go back, Zack."
He stiffens instantly at the familiar voice. Ray's light tones are distant, but she speaks high and clear enough for him to make out her words clearly in the silence. The moment she'd spoken, he'd felt a small tinge of relief, and then he quickly masks it.
"Huh? Why?" he demands, not expecting her to start giving him fucking directions at a time like this. How would she know, anyway?
"I can see you on the screen over here," she calls out to him, and though he can't see her figure, he can pinpoint the direction she must be. "Zack, jump the direction I tell you so you can pass through safely."
Although he's pleased she's not dead, the fact she's decided to give him orders even after he specifically told her to knock it off gets under his skin. His silence seems to bug her.
"...Zack...?"
"I heard you the first time!" he snaps. "All I need to do is go back, right?"
"Yes. If you proceed as I say—"
"Knock it off! I think I can get back on my own!" he shouts out, his anger shining through again despite himself.
"...If you say so," comes Ray's quieted reply, which only makes him even more annoyed than he was before ust by the implications.
I don't need her fuckin' directions. I can make it back on my own, no problem.
He leaps back, and instantly she pipes in again.
"Zack, take the lower right."
His rebellious side rears its ugly head. "...I'll turn back, so quit barkin' out orders, you hear?!"
Just to spite her, he goes to the far right, but his personal triumph is cut short by the looming wall that waits for him on that path. The sight of it just proves that she was right, which pisses him off even more.
...Awww! Shit!
He makes his way back, and he hears her voice, even more tired and exasperated now, repeat: "...Lower right."
He keeps moving, and despite his counters and obvious dislike for her 'help', she keeps trying to point him in the right direction.
"Zack, you were supposed to keep—"
"I'm tryin' to!"
"Zack, when you get back, go four paces to the left... Zack?"
"...Yeah, yeah..."
When he's on what looks like a straight path to the finish, he figures that'll be the last of her helpfulness, but she continues speaking.
"Zack, keep going straight..."
"There's only straight from here! Duh!" he retorts, and she waits a moment to reply.
"...I can see you on the screen, so I thought it would be quicker for me to tell you. That, and if you don't make it across... I'll be sort of worse off."
He pauses on a platform, and his expression scrunches up like he smells rot. Her admittance prods at his subconscious, and bugs him beyond belief. For some reason, Cathy's fucked up nickname of calling them 'playthings' surfaces, and it sets him on edge immediately.
"...I'm not some pawn in a game of chess!" he growls out for her to hear. "Quit treatin' me like one!"
There's no response from the girl, and for a split second he feels a twinge of regret before it passes.
Good, maybe she got the damn hint.
He hurries to the finish, finally leaping onto the end floor where a door wait for him. A screen comes into view over a large gap, revealing his image and hers on either side. When he moves closer, her figure grows clearer, turned his direction from across the jump. His eyes scan over her frame, involuntarily searching for bullet holes in her paper-thin body.
"Yo," he greets her nonchalantly.
"Zack..." she murmurs, and if he didn't know better, he'd say there was a tiny bit of relief in her emotionless voice.
The fuck? I probably imagined it.
He glances over, then points with his scythe off to her left.
"There's two different doors, one over here and one over there!" he tells her, and she nods.
"So it would seem."
"What's the plan?"
He watches her twiddle her fingers around her purse. She seems out of it again, though he can't put his finger on why.
"Other than to keep going, I'm not entirely sure..."
Zack's usually would come back with something snide, but he just frowns at her.
"...You sure you still ain't got any poison in your system? Your face looks spaced-out," he remarks, and she shakes her head, brushing it off.
"I'm fine now," she assures, but he doesn't feel too sure about her. Hell, she'd probably walk across hot coals if he told her to.
Well, fuck, whatever. If she won't talk... then fuck it, I won't care!
"Well, I guess all we can do is keep going," he says, a bit colder.
She nods, her blue eyes focused on him. "Yeah, I know. I'll do what I can..."
That sentence rubs him so wrongly in so many ways that he feels himself fight off the urge to rage at her. The hell does she think she's doing, anyway? Why is she like this?! Who the fuck does she think she's dealing with?
"...Duh," he hisses out through his teeth. "Do you want me to kill you?!"
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he realizes just how stupid it makes him sound. After all, all she ever talks about and harps on is her death wish, literally.
God dammit!
Without being able to think of anything else to fix the stupid mistake, he storms off into the next room, leaving her to her own devices.
Fuck this place.
.x.X.x.
Raising a brow, Ray stares after Zack's retreating form as he disappears into the door on the other side.
She's not really sure why he became so up-in-arms, though it must've been something she said. She hadn't thought anything she'd spoken was out of line, though...
...He's pissed, she observes.
Feeling like he won't be coming back, and that time's running slim for them here, she follows her companion's example and enters the next room through the large metal door he'd pointed out.
When she steps inside, it's eerily quiet. The most lighting seems to come from her right albeit not illuminating much, and when she glances over, she sees a room identical to the one she's in— separated by an impassable wall of iron bars.
Is the room beyond these iron bars where Zack went...?
She edges closer to it, and she can make out his familiar form and scythe nearby. He's staring down at something- what looks like a pedestal, and she recognizes that there's one exactly like it in her part of the room, too.
"Zack," she hedges quietly. "This room..."
He turns her direction, and she doesn't like how serious his expression is.
"The door's locked," he says, flipping a thumb toward the far end of the room. "And all that's here is this syringe. So what the hell're we supposed to do now? Shoot up and get high?"
He's already sounding bitter, and she knows she has to do something before he loses hope or does something reckless. She nods her head at his words, glancing to her own pedestal.
"A syringe, eh...? I'll go check it out."
Ray makes her way to the syringe waiting for her on the pedestal. It's rather large with a razor-sharp needle end, and filled with a nasty yellow liquid. It's unidentifiable, but it raises her suspicions.
What kind of drug is in this...?
The sound of a door sliding open grabs her attention immediately from above. Her eyes flicker upward, and lights flood from above the room, enough for her to clearly see the upper balcony and the now-open door there. Striding out with a wide, self-satisfied grin, Cathy winks at the two below. She's taller than Ray thought, and without the filter of a screen to mask it, her smug, flirtatious attitude is overwhelmingly clear.
"Hello!" she chirps, gazing down at them like specimens in a cage. "We finally get to meet in person!"
She leans forward, placing a hand on her hip with surprise.
"My goodness! Both of you are here! That's more than I planned for! But, I've got a feeling we're in for a treat!"
Zack rounds the pedestal in seconds, and Ray watches him point his scythe at her, waving it wildly.
"You sadistic bitch! What the fuck is it this time?!" he fumes.
"Oh, Zack... why so hostile?" she says in mock sorrow, yet still smiling. "Is that the way you talk to a beautiful lady? Some things never change!"
She laughs, the sound reverberating through the walls like a dissonant melody, and pinpoints him with her green eyes.
"But that's also what makes me so hot for you!"
"Zip it!" Zack shouts, growing more agitated with every passing second and every word she utters. "How 'bout you come down here so I can slice you up good!"
Her lips thin into a pleased smile.
"Silly boy! You're the ones who will meet your demise!"
He growls out a guttural sound in response, and Ray feels like time's ticking away before something bad occurs. Though, at this point, she's starting to wish this would end already.
"...Hey," she calls over to Zack, and he whips his head around to look at her. "What's your plan this time?"
"Hey, Rachel Gardner."
Ray looks back at Cathy, who's leaning over and now sharply staring into the young girl, like she's a mere disturbance.
"What do you think a syringe is for?" she inquires.
The blonde takes a moment to think, not understanding the meaning of the question.
"...To inject medicine into the body," she answers, and there's the sound of a bell jingling in the background somewhere.
"Bingo!" Cathy says happily. "The door in this room will unlock when each of you inject those syringes. One contains a healthy dose of vitamins, while the other contains a not-so-healthy dose of something else. The 'something else' has a potent chemical capable of lulling you to sleep and tormenting you with nightmares! Goodness, you may not even wake up!"
"Wha-?" Zack gapes at her. "Which syringe is it?!"
Her cackle answers. "As if I'd tell. I forgot, anyway. Originally, this room was designed so someone would have to make the right or wrong choice. You saw how the path forked in the room earlier, right? If luck is on your side, you'll inject the vitamins. Otherwise you'll inject the deadly chemical. A game of chance, if you will."
Her eyes grow small and cold, and her words are sharper and heavier. Her glare settles on Ray.
"But there was a miscalculation on my part; there's two of you!"
Ray's brows furrow. "...Surely you knew this would hap-"
"Oh, you unseemly child," Cathy drawls, cutting her off. She brushes a feminine hand through her short bangs, looking down on her.
"A good head on your shoulders is all you have going. I was monitoring you, but as Zack says; you're so dull."
The girl finds her words shrinking into her throat, forgotten, whereas Cathy laughs victoriously like she's winning her favorite game.
"Well, that's enough boring chit-chat!" she giggles. "Since there's two of you, I'll make a special tweak to the rules! Swapping the syringes is allowed. Plus..."
Something comes over her expression compared to her usual smugness. A dark, creeping expression that makes Zack's favorite term, 'sadistic bitch', seem all too accurate.
"...One of you can inject both."
Inject both? If one of them did that, would the nightmare chemical still be at its full effect? Already, the cogs in Rachel's head are turning.
"However!" Cathy adds on, "Make sure to inject it to the last drop. There will be hell to pay for any shenanigans. You'll never see the light of day again!"
She does a little dramatic twirl above, and then blows a kiss down to them.
"And on that note, my lovely sinners, I wish you the best of luck!"
Turning on her tall heels, the woman traipses out of the room, the door shutting with finality behind her and leaving them in silence.
Ray gazes down at the syringe at her torso. The yellow liquid seems foreboding now with the thought of the chemical, but she's already thinking of what to do.
We can both have one, or one of us can inject both of them. Doing that, however, might ensure death... and she's already seeing the best choice possible here.
Still, she looks at her companion, who's grimacing down at his needle.
"...Zack."
He stiffens at his name, and then reaches out, swiping the needle into his hand. He walks over to the bars and gestures with his scythe.
"...Hey, bring me the syringe!"
Not wanting to question him and earn his ire again, she takes the needle carefully in her palm. It's heavy to the touch and sloshes around with her movement.
Slowly she moves to Zack, and she can see the color of his needle is a dark green. Cathy's words must have been right about the difference in the contents, then.
"Here it is..." she says, presenting the object to him.
He gazes down at it through the bars, and frowns.
"...Ohh. Hey, do you know which one's lethal?"
Ray blinks, looking between the two. If only she could tell, but just by looks alone it's impossible to say.
"...Uhh..."
He grows graver, her lack of a response the answer he expected. "...I thought so. I have no clue, either. What's the plan?"
The plan...?
Truthfully, she's at a loss, other than the obvious choice of just injecting the needles. Her silence bothers him, though.
"It would be a cold day in hell before I die in a shithole like this— that woman can suck it!" he declares furiously.
He doesn't want to die here. So... that means that if we have to do as she says, it would make sense if I was the one to do it.
Her face is completely expressionless as she offers her suggestion. "Alright... want me to inject both of them?"
Zack leans back in shock, mouth wide in disbelief, and his face flickers with something odd.
"What-? D'you think you'd ever wake up again after that?" he demands, grabbing hold of the bars and leaning closer.
"...We'll find out," she says shortly. "Or do you wanna give it a shot?"
"Me? Hell no!"
"...Anyway," she continues, "We don't know which is drugged. So it would be better to know which one of us will be affected. If you don't... then I'll do it. There's no telling what's gonna happen, though."
"Not sure? What happens if you keel over and die?!" he presses her heavily,
Her dark eyes meet his.
There's that question again... the one he should already know the answer to.
"...What happens?" she says quietly.
"I mean if you or me die, then what the fuck are we gonna do?!" he forces out through clenched teeth, and she tilts her head curiously.
The answer... is obvious.
"What you swore won't come true," she tells him slowly. "But... that..."
For some reason, the words won't come; and her head starts to hurt. She can feel the way her expression changes for a moment, a mix of pain and confusion, before going back to normal.
"...I don't know," she breathes honestly to him. "I'm sorry, I don't know."
He stares at her face, his multicolored eyes searching her, before narrowing.
"...That's right," he mutters. "You have a death wish. Sorry I asked somethin' so dumb."
"...Dumb..." she repeats, and he rolls his eyes, leaning against the bars. He's glaring at the ground, but there's a twisted smirk on his face.
"That bitch is right," he tells her. "You and I are both playthings."
Instantly, the moment he says it, she feels the strong urge to refute the claim, but it's like the words just won't surface.
"Well... I don't get the whole 'swearing to God' thing," he continues on. "But as long as you die, you're happy, right? So tell me somethin'."
His face is pressed between the bars, gazing into her with intensity.
"Is that vacant look on your face because you've surrendered yourself to death?"
Is that why...?
For a moment, she can't help but think he must be right. After all... death is her one desire. Or rather, the most important. It is the only thing that can put her to rest.
To give her the punishment and exile that she craves so much, to repent.
"...This sucks hard," Zack complains, leaning away and leaning his scythe against his shoulder. "I'm being played by a lifeless doll."
Still, his eyes flicker over her, and his mouth twists.
"Even so... I'm not gonna play into that bitch's hands. Gettin' the hell outta here is my top priority. So... I'll do as you say."
She blinks again. "...Huh?"
"Aaaah, gimme that!"
Suddenly, he thrusts his hand through the bars toward her. Before she can say a word, he snags the needle from her hand and yanks it over to his side, clean out of her grasp.
"Wait, that's my syringe!" she says warningly, reaching toward the bars for it back, but he blows her off easily.
"Shut up! If you're gonna bitch about it, do it after takin' care of yourself!"
"But..."
"This chemical looks dangerous, but it's not poison, right? if this kills me, that means you'll die soon after. In that case, it would be better for me to inject it."
As he fumbles with them, she tries to reach out to him, but he dances far enough away.
"Wait..." she tries to stop him, alarm bells ringing in her head. Though she'd offered to do it herself, it was because she knew he wanted to escape . Like this, if he dies, he won't be able to uphold his end of the promise if it kills him.
It would've been the same scenario, too, if I was the one too...
"No more waiting," he says firmly.
He hastily rolls up his sleeve, revealing the bandaged length of his arm, and jams her syringe into his upper arm through them, growling with pain at the sharp needle entering his skin. Ignoring her expression, he thrusts the second into his arm to follow, pressing the liquid into his body and then allowing the needles to clatter down to the floor at his feet.
She's left only watching him as he covers his arm again, the action punctuated by the sounds of the doors in front of them unlocking.
"...It opened," he says huskily.
He backs away from her, seeming alright despite the injections, and then heads for the door on his end. Despite his appearance, she can't help the worry that surfaces throughout her form.
"...Hey, let's get a move on," he urges her on without looking her way.
He slowly makes his way out, and disappears behind the metal door. Her fingers tighten around her purse strap tensely.
...No, he's not alright.
.x.X.x.
Zack's barely taken a step through the narrow hallway before he has to grip the wall beside him for balance.
He'd injected those needles of shit in an effort to get it over with, and because of that vacant expression that had finally seemed real for just a single moment. Heh... it's funny, she looked pretty concerned when he dosed himself up with the gunk.
His head's really messed up now, though. It took no time at all for the effects of the drug to kick in, and while he feels physically alright, it's like he has the world's worst fucking headache.
His scythe dangles at his side, and his other hand is pressed to his head, as if to try and stop the painful disorientation pouring in from his bloodstream.
Aaarrghhhhh, shiiit! My head won't stop spinnin'...
He tries to edge forward a bti more, to the end of the hall, but he's starting to black out. White noise fills his mind, and unwanted images start pouring back into his conscious, pictures he'd wanted to forget.
I'm seeing stars...
No, no, no— it's too late. The world is growing blurry, and he can feel himself drifting off into the past, into the fuel of his worst nightmares. His control over himself vanishes, and he feels his sinking down into a mental abyss.
.x.X.x.
In silence, the boy edges along the room. It's dark, somewhere after two in the morning, and his 'caretakers' have long since gone to bed. He was out late, burying the body of another unfortunate kid who couldn't take care of themselves.
Covered in dirt, he hears the TV going in the background, and his curiosity drives him to wander slowly to it. His footsteps are quiet as a mouse from all his effort stealthily sneaking out, and the nasty, grimy floorboards barely creak under his weight.
The flashing lights bring him closer, and he finds himself standing before the old TV set. His form, dirty and disgusting, is barely reflecting in the screen, but he's focused on what's happening in it far more.
A movie is playing. It's not very well made, but the scene playing is a chase scene where the killer is hunting down their prey. A stupid couple, screaming and crying and begging for their lives, are quickly silence by the murderer and his large hatchet. The blood splatters the camera, and zeroes in on his face— the face of pure happiness and glee. There's no shred of regret or sorrow or anguish, only bliss, and a wide, psychotic smile.
The sight of such a thing triggers something in the young boy. His hands ball into fists at his sides, but a small smile creeps over his lips too, a bare mimic of the one of the killer's.
'Aaah, that makes sense.'
'—That's what I should do.'
.x.X.x.
Ray doesn't waste any time hurrying after Zack.
Entering a short hall, she moves forward into the wider corridor, and sees him there. He's standing unnaturally still, his weapon loosely held in his right hand, and it's far too quiet.
The girl rushes toward him, stopping only a foot away. Something feels awfully wrong, like the calm before a wild storm, and she doesn't like the way he looks. She can hardly see his face past the mess of black hair and his hoodie, but just by his body language, she can tell he's not alright.
Are the drugs taking effect?
"Zack..." she calls out to him. "Zack, are you okay...?"
Silence. He doesn't move, but she can barely see his hands trembling by his sides.
Before she can speak further, he suddenly brandishes his scythe, gripping it in both hands like he's readying for an attack. Her eyes widen slightly with surprise.
"What's wrong...?" she asks slowly, and that's when she catches sight of his face.
His multicolored eyes are wild and haggard, filled with a desire for bloodlust and venom that she's never seen before, even when he chased her back on B6. His mouth is twisted into a psychotic, maniacal grin.
"I'm fuckin' fiending to kill!" he shouts in a dark, yet mirthful voice, his every word dripping with malice and the want to destroy. "I'm gonna go crrraaaaazzzzzzyy!"
Ray blinks at him a few times, unsure how to take his abrupt change. Still, she simply gazes at him solemnly.
"...I see. Do as you like."
Her words trigger something far worse inside him, and he raises the scythe, the sharp edge glinting in the light as he stares her down, not truly seeing her through his blind desire.
"Ah! That's right, I forgot about you!"
With quickness she had hardly seen from before, she feels the scythe round her neck, the long blade pressing her hair to her nape. If she were to move an inch, it would undoubtedly cut her. He's right there in front of her, his face inches from her own, his breath fanning over her with his proximity. His body prevents her from being able to run, leaning over her in such a way that any action on her part would result in injury or capture instantly.
His eyes are much unlike the Zack she's come to know thus far, but she can see the flicker of something behind his dilated pupils, so close to her own that she can make out the subtle similarities in his gold and brown irises.
So he wants to kill me right now, then...
Yet, those words ring hollow in her thoughts, as if she's wrong and off the mark.
Still, she maintains her calm composure even as she speaks to him.
"...But, are you okay with that?" she quietly asks.
His expression hardly changes, but his bewilderment shows.
"...Huuh?"
"You haven't made it outside yet," she coolly clarifies, before glancing down. "Besides... My face still has that vacant stare, doesn't it?"
His eyes narrow angrily. "Are you threatenin' me after all this time?! Huh?!"
"...No."
Her eyes flit back to his, gazing deep into Zack's meaningfully.
"...You swore to God you would do this for me, and so this oath is yours as well. Now, I'm not ordering you, or asking a favor of you... I'm just asking..." she breathes, exhaling slowly. "—Is that okay with you, Zack?"
Her sincerity snaps something back into his expression, and for a moment he's completely still. The dark look on his face wavers.
"...Man, you're dumb."
Her brows raise at the slight change in his voice. It sounds much less hungry for blood, a tiny bit more like the natural Zack she's been travelling with, hidden in the undertones.
His smile quirks upward, still a sharp line but a little softer than before.
"Even a lifeless bore of a girl like you is hard for me to resist killin' right now. I mean, if I were able to resist, then this wouldn't be happenin' to me now."
His voice has taken on a much quieter tone, and she watches the clarity return to his gaze for a moment through his cloudiness. Although the scythe is still pressed against her, it's not as tightly wound around her. She can easily notice the change in his demeanor, telling her that her thoughts were correct.
That means that he must be under the drug's influence.
"But even I hate lies," he continues, not moving his gaze from hers. "...Catch my drift?"
Though his words aren't clear, the meaning in his eyes is crystal. She can see it, telegraphed by his body language. Hidden amidst the desire for murder is something else that says he's not yet ready to kill her. That he doesn't want to— at least not now.
"...Yeah," she murmurs finally, and she feels him exhale slowly in what seems like relief. To her surprise, she feels him reach up to lightly ruffle her hair, his fingers easily sliding through her locks.
"Good girl. Please..." he mumbles slowly, the cloudiness beginning to return.
"...For now, don't die."
That simple sentence rings in her chest, causing her heartbeat to jump, but she can already feel herself promising him at least this.
He doesn't want me to die yet, but he can't control himself. So... I have to outlast him.
Ray gives him a short nod, enough for him to know she understands, and it's enough. His hand lowers, and the scythe falls from her neck to scrape against the ground. His face goes dark, hidden by his bangs, and she takes the moment to run past him, flying by with as much speed as she can and not daring to look back, entering the next section of the floor.
She might only have a single second before he returns to that crazed version of himself, and if he catches her, she really will die— and she'd be breaking her promise by allowing it like this.
I have to run as fast as my feet can take me to get away. Until those drugs have worn off, he'll pursue me with the intent to kill me. I just have to stay alive until then.
I can't let Zack kill me right now. I gotta get away...!
Using her promise to him as the energy to push her weakened body forward, Ray runs forward down the deep red-colored hall. Just as she predicted, it takes a mere heartbeat for him to slam open the door behind her, his laughter following her down the corridor.
Flashbacks of his chasing her all over B6 flood her consciousness, except this scenario is nothing like the strangers the two had been then. No; she knows that this time, his reason for wanting her dead isn't his own, and his unspoken wish for her to live right now rings in her ears, as if on loop.
She rounds the nearest corner, sprinting through what seems like a maze of hallways. He's fast, and already starting to catch up to her, but she's quick too and small enough to dodge into nearby hallways without him noticing right away. She makes turn after turn, not knowing her destination or where to go to avoid him. She would hide, but she's certain he'd find her that way, hunting her down like predator after his prey.
So instead, she runs like her very life depends on each footfall, until she suddenly reaches a hallway ending in a door. He's creeping dangerously close, and there's no option for her to turn around— so she slams it open and rushes inside.
Compared to the rusty crimson of the past few areas, the room is a sterile white, nearly blinding her at first glance. As she forces herself to fight the painful lighting, she realizes that it's a wide room devoid of most exits. Instead, a large glass wall bars her path to the nearest door, leaving her without another choice and out of time.
Oh no! A dead end...? Her thoughts are filled with concern and she barely even registers anything else around her besides her lack of escape routes, knowing it's not nearly late enough for her to have outrun him.
The door behind her clangs open with the sound of his entry, and Ray turns around slowly to see Zack stalking toward her slowly. The maniacal look on his face is back, replacing the expression he'd given her earlier when he'd been so intense.
He edges closer, his steps loud in her ears. There's no mercy in his eyes, no hesitance as he stops in front of her, mere inches away once more. He readies his scythe for a blow and she knows there's little left she can do.
I'm sorry, Zack. I tried to get away... and I couldn't. I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise.
With her hope lost to prevent him from killing her, Ray accepts her imminent death. She tilts her head down and closes her eyes, bracing herself for the harsh, violent slice that will take away her life.
There's a beat of silence as she senses him raising the weapon.
A harsh, sharp shot rings out through the room around her, and Ray's eyes fly open instantly with confusion, not expecting the sound.
Zack's scythe clatters noisily to the floor by his side, and he drops to his knees, clutching his arm with a short-lived groan. To her horror, blood seeps through and discolors the dirtied white bandages wrapping his fingers as well as the dark hoodie underneath. A splatter of the crimson liquid is sprayed across the floor behind him, residual from the gunshot.
"Hello! Glad you made it this far~!"
Her head whips around to pinpoint the source of the high laughter that follows the words. Now that he's no longer chasing her, she can focus more on her surroundings. Beyond the solid glass wall is a raised platform with a set of stairs leading down. At the very top is a large set of screens and a massive console— half hidden behind Cathy herself, smirking down at them through the barrier.
"Sorry to interrupt just when things were getting good!" she says unapologetically, tapping her riding crop on her other hand with amusement. "After all, this room is for execution by gunfire... I thought I might as well shoot you. Take a look! See all the guns around you?"
As if on cue, the walls around the two begin to tremble. Large machine guns reveal themselves in hidden cubbies along the ceiling, all of them pointed in their direction.
"Each of these are fired with just the push of a little ol' button! Isn't that lovely?
Her long, knee-high boots take methodical steps down the stairs, coming to the bottom so she can observe them through the glass like animals on exhibit. She raises a red-gloved hand, lightly touching her chin.
"...By the way, your falling out with each other was absolutely hilarious!" she comments with a grin. "Especially you, Zack! What an exemplary and perfect specimen of a sinner you are! The way that even if you struggle, in the end you can't fight your maniacal tendencies is just so... lovely!" She punctuates the statement with her laugh.
"...Shut... up..."
Behind Ray, the noiret hesitantly picks himself back up onto his feet, retrieving his scythe with unsteady hands. Ray can see the unbridled anger written over his features. She's quick to turn to him, concerned for his well-being.
"...Zack!"
Ray's barely taken a few steps toward him, reaching out to try and help somehow, when he thrusts out a hand. The blow lands square in her chest, knocking the breath from her lungs and causing her to stumble back, clutching her chest.
"Stay away from me, or you're dead!" he hisses through clenched teeth.
Giggling in the background, Cathy toys with her crop, placing a hand on her hip as she watches them.
"There! There! The bullet in your body has restored some of your rationality, but look at you! You can't R-E-S-I-S-T, huh?"
He clutches his weapon, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. This pleases her immensely, and she heads back up the stairs to retrieve something.
"Hey, Rachel Gardner..."
Ray follows the woman with her gaze, watching her twirl with a dramatic flair— before tossing something over the edge of the glass wall that skitters near her feet.
"Here you go!"
Eying it, Ray's chest restricts lightly with the sight of a shining pistol inches away from her. The glinting weapon seems to await her fingers, and it instantly gives her a nauseous feeling in the back of her throat.
"As long as you have that, you should both be even-steven, right?" Cathy smiles gleefully, wandering back down to watch once more. She blows a kiss their direction and wiggles her fingers.
"Now, let's have a duel to the death! Whoever survives gets an even more lovely death!"
Ray, eyes still trapped against the glittering metal of the weapon nearby and hypersensitive to the harsh breaths of the boy behind her, feels something rear its ugly head in the back of her mind. It's small and nearly unheard, but it still proves powerful enough for her to raise her eyes to the woman with reluctance.
She wants me to shoot Zack. I...
"...What is the point of doing something like that?" she coldly asks.
Cathy's wide, crimson lipstick'd smile reverses into a displeased frown at the girl's hesitance.
"...Silence! You boring brat. Why seek meaning? What do you think that will get you? There's no way that would ever amount to anything for a sinner. That's precisely why there's no need to seek meaning."
Ray quietly gazes at her a moment— then she goes to the gun and leans down, picking it up in her slender hand. Cathy brightens considerably when her 'sinner' does as she's told, like she's won.
"Okay, now put on an entertaining show!" she urges on, before laughing her way back to her perch above.
The weapon is heavy in the girl's hand, unfamiliar and lethal. She finds herself weighing it in her palm, as Zack makes his way to her. Though favoring his arm, he has his scythe tight in his grasp, stopping before her with his intent clear.
I have to shoot him, like she says, but...
Her brows crease with concern, before she settles, staring down at the gun.
"Could it be that you're scared to pull the trigger?" Cathy asks from above. She has her hands under her chin, gazing out at them with a thin smile. "Can you not break away from that insipid, boring child?"
I have to do it, don't I? Ray wills herself to lift the gun, but her hand doesn't move.
Her inaction riles the boy in front of her, and he snarls, "If you're gonna do it, make it quick!"
Even Zack is telling me to do it. But, I...
She doesn't understand why she can't lift the gun, to do as she's told, but the answer to it feels right at the edge of her mind. It's like a leaden weight between her fingers.
"Even if you don't shoot, I can't resist killing you!" Zack shouts at her, burning holes into her with his gaze.
Her being tries to lift the gun, to point it at Zack, to dare pull the trigger, but...
...she can't.
The promise she made to him before rings dissonant in her thoughts. It prevents her from doing it, the memory of the vow they made to God keeping her from acting. There's something else hidden under the surface that also binds her, rooting her to the spot... and she knows she can't do it. She can't shoot him; she can't kill Zack.
So Ray closes her eyes, and hopes he hurries on with it.
The scythe is lifted to her neck, and she feels it lightly nick her skin with the lightest pressure. The gun dangles at her side, but she can feel her resolve strengthening.
This is what I desire. Though, if I die here, he might not be able to escape. Is it wrong for me to accept death like this, without fulfilling my end?
But, I can't shoot him.
Her voice comes out, a little raspy, but firm.
"...I won't do it."
There's a slight tremor of the blade with her words, before he answers.
"...I see. I'm fiending to kill!"
As he straightens up and prepares to finish her, she lowers her head a little, eyes still closed. The darkness invites her, promising her eternal sleep, but she has the urge to look at Zack.
She feels awful. Despite wanting release, the thought of it like this... it disgusts her. It feels wrong.
"I'm sorry... making you kill someone as boring as me," she murmurs to him softly.
He snorts, but the sound holds no mirth. "Yeah, you're right...! It'll prolly make me feel shitty! Didn't I tell you that if you're gonna shoot, then do it?! At this range, you won't miss!"
Compared to his blusterous, loud tones, hers are a much quieter soprano. Her words, honest and sincere, are meant for him to hear only.
"—I won't shoot you."
He laughs, a violent and animalistic sound that makes her wince slightly.
"Don't you know what'll happen to you?! Oh, that's right; you have a death wish."
Her eyes finally open, and she meets the cloudy hues of his. Though she may be expressionless, her look portrays the way she feels about it.
"I do- but this isn't right," she answers certainly, genuine, not knowing if her words will make a difference, but speaking what's truly on her mind.
"...This is what is in my heart. Zack can kill me. But..." Her face grows colder, her deep blue irises reflecting darkness. "That woman... I will not be a puppet for that woman. I won't."
Her resolve causes the weapon at her throat to waver, but she continues on strongly, her words filled with meaning.
"I mean, both you... and I... are not her play things," she tells him. "Killing and being killed... Are both our decisions to make."
Something triggers behind his gaze, and she notices how the foggy haze in his eyes seems to fade out further. His dark expression lightens a little— and then he laughs, a sound far less filled with bitterness and spite.
"After all this time, now you've finally said somethin' worthwhile?!"
A little taken by his change, she gazes at him, realizing the conflict written over his features despite himself. Before she can do much, he lets out an exasperated, drawn out groan. He stares into her with pressing urgency, but he lets out a pained grin.
"I can't hold back any longer...! Hey, you could at least smile! Do it now!"
Ah... So then, he's chosen to kill me right here, then, right?
If that's what he wants... I'll follow through.
Choosing to follow the final demands he makes of her, she steels herself, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.
Then, she reopens them and lets a soft smile settle over her features, hoping it pleases him enough despite how dull he must think she is.
He searches her face, before chuckling under his breath.
"...Man, you suck! That dead look in your eyes... But yeah, if it was genuine, then I'd love it!"
With a metallic sound, he withdraws the weapon from her neck, taking several steps back away from her. There's something unreadable mixed into his odd expression, and he runs a hand through his dark bangs, even as he grins. He seems far more like himself again, thankfully, though she doesn't understand what he's doing.
"...Just imagining that I'm killin' you puts a smile on my face," he says, his words a little slurred, before he raises his scythe above himself, confusing her further.
"...So much, that I could even kill myself!"
His words grow loud, like a thunderous quake in her eardrums, and her expression contorts into horror. She throws out a hand, barely realizing what he's about to do, but her action is too late.
With a harsh swing downward, the sharp point of the scythe dips into his stomach, easily cutting through the cloth and bandage underneath. Instantly he lets out a groan, pain registering over his face instantly, and the scythe falls from his fingers. The blade slips out of the now gushing wound, revealing the garish, gruesome sight to her wide eyes.
He drops to his knees, wobbly, and stares down at the blood covering his bandaged palms— before a strange smile twists over his face, and his eyes close. His figure topples over onto his back, the red liquid beginning to pool under him, and he doesn't move again.
For a moment, she feels as though the breath has left her body entirely. Hell, even her heart may've stopped the moment he stabbed himself; then she's in motion, running to his side and kneeling by him, her panic overriding her sensibility for a moment.
No— no, no no.
"Zack...!" she chokes out through her unwilling throat.
A blood-curdling screech follows her words, though it doesn't come from Zack. No, the horrified scream emanates from the strawberry blonde at the top of the stairs, her gloved hands pressed against her cheeks. The coy, smug look she usually wears has been replaced by anger and shock.
Cathy races down the stairs, and the glass panel before her slides open to reveal a doorway. She runs forward and she slams her open palms into Ray's chest, throwing her backward.
"Absolutely horrifying!" she yells, closing in on the girl. "I take that back— you're not exemplary! Rachel Gardner's a half-baked sinner!"
She turns to glare in Zack's lifeless direction.
"To think that Isaac Foster's a suicidal fool ruled by desire! Oh, it saddens me so! Aarrgghh! This revelation will cast rain on my condemning parade! Rachel, if you were any more dull, I'd die!"
The sound of the woman treating Zack like he was nothing more than a toy for her amusement sets Ray's teeth on edge, and she finds herself back-talking her without a second thought.
"...I don't recall you being in charge of deciding that."
Cathy shoves her back again, more forceful this time, her green eyes beady and small, filled with hatred.
"I can get no joy from punishing you...! Oh, it torments me, Rachel! If it comes to this, then Zack would be better! And he would've looked so good riddled with bullets, too! If you can't pull the trigger, then you're a half-baked sinner!"
She leans over the girl, towering over her by a foot or so, to burn through her with looks alone.
"So... why... were you able to make it here?"
Cathy grips her shoulders and tosses her off to the side. Ray barely catches herself, the woman being stronger than she first looks, but she stands her ground as the master of the floor stalks toward her again, her riding crop gripped so tightly in hand that her knuckles are white.
"Oh well... It's rather boring, but you'll have to be riddled with bullets."
A sound a few feet away makes both women turn their heads to look, and Ray zeroes in on the slight movement of Zack's body. He moans quietly, revealing the fact he's still alive, and an icy rush of relief floods her bloodstream in response.
Zack is alive...!
Cathy takes a step toward him, her entire face lighting up like a Christmas tree.
"Oh my! You lived through that!" she says with surprise, moving until she's standing at his feet. She taps her crop against her shoulder rhythmically, her attention entirely focused on him now. The familiar smirk from before settles over her pencil-thin cherry lips. "This can't be! You really are a monster that doesn't disappoint! How lovely!"
Ray feels something surge inside her, something powerful that drives her to quickly stride closer to her, until she's standing a few feet behind the woman. Her fingertips snap at the strap crossing her chest anxiously, but she doesn't waste time.
"...Will you kill Zack?" she demands.
Cathy doesn't spare her a glance, her hair bobbing as she speaks. "Of course! I mean, I'm the only one who can punish such a lovely sinner, right?"
Panic races through Ray's bloodstream, and she withdraws the gun the woman had given her earlier. She'd tossed it into her bag without giving it a second thought when Zack was about to kill her, but now she raises it, pointing it unsteadily at the master of the floor.
I- I can't let her.
"...Stop it," Ray commands, her voice sounding less powerful than she wants, but carrying weight. Her grip on the gun is untrained and wobbly, but she doesn't waver her aim from the back of the blonde's head, her brows furrowing together.
Zack can't die. I can't let him die, I won't let her kill him!
Cathy stiffens, and then whirls on the girl. Instead of intimidation on her face, however, the young girl's greeted with that narcissistic grin again.
"Oh, go ahead and shoot!" she urges, unperturbed and waving a hand.
Her confidence causes Ray to falter slightly, which only pleases the older woman.
"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but that gun was never loaded from the very start!" she cackles. "Well, it's not like it matters— a half-baked sinner like you could never shoot it in the first place! ...But I have to admire your spunk to turn it on me."
The woman throws out a hand dramatically, as if she's the star of a theater play, and shouts—
"Bang!"
A gunshot rings out, but it's not from Ray's own hand. Instead, it's from one of the weapons along the wall, and the shot tears the faux gun right out of the young girl's grasp, the force of it burning her palm and making the weapon skitter far out of her reach.
Ray drops to her knees, feeling the sharp pain in her hand, while Cathy simply giggles to herself. The woman crosses back around to Zack's unconscious side, grinning down at him, while Ray's head spins.
No, no, no, I...
I can't...
She's going to kill him. She's going to kill Zack, she's going to murder him, he's going to die—
I have to stop her.
"...Alright, might as well punish him since his life's been prolonged and he's in prime form," Cathy notes to herself.
No.
The word loops, over and over in Ray's head. Watching Cathy stand over Zack like this makes something snap inside her, something strung tight and rewound over and over. Her head hurts, the pain bringing back unwanted memories.
Her vision blurs and fades, the images she witnesses being ones she saw long, long ago.
A person, standing over another, thrusting a blade into their body. Over, and over, and over. The blood, spurting everywhere, coating their clothes, covering the floor. The dark, suppressed video plays for her like a cursed nightmare, and she feels her body moving on its own.
I can't let Zack die, I can't see something like that happen again, I need him to kill me, I can't do this, I-
She's not sure she's thinking anymore, but she's already in motion. Her fingers are already digging into her bag and fumbling with something, and she's rising to her feet with the now readied object, still hidden, in her purse.
"...No."
The voice that speaks sounds nothing like her own, firm and clear, filled with authority. Cathy turns around to see her walking closer, edging closer to the unloaded gun on the floor but without making any move to pick it up.
Ray's eyes are dark, the blue an empty sapphire, but she feels no fear or reluctance to face the woman.
"I won't let you kill him," she states non-negotiably. "Zack is meant to kill me."
Without hesitance, she lifts her hand from her purse, withdrawing the fully loaded handgun from the confines to point it steadily at her enemy. This time her hand is certain and unwavering, pointed directly at Cathy's chest, and the other woman widens her eyes with shock— along with what looks like a flicker of fear.
"...Where'd you get that handgun?!" The green-eyed monster cries out angrily.
Before Cathy can move to react or run, Ray simply presses her finger to the trigger with a cold, open stare.
"—Bang!"
Her word is punctuated by her gunshot, and Cathy stumbles backwards, her hand gripping at her suit. Blood is easily spreading through the fabric, turning the flat black into a nasty, gruesome shade of mahogany. Within moments, blood trickles from her mouth, and her chest heaves with outrage and pain. Her emerald eyes glare daggers into the young blonde, and she squeaks out low, guttural cries of anguish.
"Nooooooooooo!" she screams at her, "Where'd you get that gun?! You- you slut!"
She starts to chuckle madly, growing louder and louder.
"So this is your sinful true self! That's great! You sinful girl! I'll punish you! Punish you!"
She throws out a hand, a small remote in her shaky palm, and the guns around the room train on Ray's form, ready to fire at the press of a button. Cathy shouts at the top of her lungs, her high voice crackling with anger and the want to crush her.
"I'll punish the demon lurking under that collected face of yours!"
She begins to laugh, her thumb ready to press the trigger, when—
"—Shove it!"
The glint of a familiar scythe, and suddenly blood is pouring from Cathy's arm. With one fell swoop, the hand that had been about to seal the young girl's fate is no longer attached, the discarded limb falling into a messy, gory pile at her feet. She stares at the stump of her arm spewing blood, trembling with horror and unable to react, her mouth barely moving.
"H-huh?" she croaks out.
"Stupid sadistic bitch. You've been shot, so don't look so happy! Thanks to you, I want to kill, kill, and kill!"
Ray is rooted to the spot as Zack, looking more alive than ever, leaps toward Cathy. Crimson liquid is still staining his front and he's covered in the stuff, but he doesn't seem to care as he raises his scythe over her, grinning ear to ear.
"I'm up and at'em!"
The strawberry blonde barely has time to speak, her face going blank as she stares up at the offending blade.
"—You're kidding, right-?"
"This is reality!" he spits out, before heaving down the weapon forcibly. "Waaaaaake uuuup!"
There's a scream so loud it can break glass as she's cut down. A large, open slash tears through her body, the wound stretching from her shoulder deeply down to her waist, and she falls to the ground in a heap inelegantly. Her green eyes are wide, becoming glassy, but she can't help mumbling words near inaudible before going entirely still, bathing in her own fluids.
Once he's finished with her, Zack flops down with his legs curled under him, taking a deep breath and rubbing his eyes sleepily, like he'd woken from a nap. He looks worse for wear now that he's not fueled by his urge to kill, which only worries her.
To see him up and moving, though, is a bigger relief than she first thought. All she can do is be grateful he's alive.
In all honesty, she's almost speechless by his sudden turn.
"...Zack," she murmurs.
He runs his hand through his messy hair, groaning in response, and she hurries to him.
"Zack, are you alright?" she presses him.
He waves her off. "My stomach hurts like hell, duh."
Her eyes narrow thoughtfully. She wants to help him, but...
"Zack, earlier..." she begins softly, asking the first question that's on her mind. "Did you take joy in slicing your own stomach?"
He gapes at her like she's asked the dumbest question he's heard all day, setting his scythe down next to him.
"Huh? Don't get me confused with that sadistic bitch!" he scolds her instantly. "I just figured it would be better than killin' your boring ass and being killed by that bitch of a jailer."
his reasoning is practically lost on her, but she resigns herself to not understanding it fully. For now, it's a good thing he's not dead.
His eyes light up, though, and he grins her way.
"...Did you see her face?!" he asks her gleefully.
"...Yeah," she nods.
He chuckles. "That was gold! You did me proud, too! I feel like a new man!"
His odd praise fills her with a twisted sense of pride, and her chest restricts slightly. She can't help questioning him. "...Really?"
"I got a bit of a flesh wound on my stomach, but it's nothin'," he states, wincing as he shifts his position. He picks himself up off the floor with a little bit of struggling, and throws his scythe over his shoulder.
"Alright, let's get goin'."
His gung-ho attitude would be fine if she wasn't worried about the gaping hole in his torso. She stares at him, surprised by his strength.
"...Are you alright?" she inquires again.
"Oh?" he says, like she's being overprotective. "Pfft, this ain't nothin'."
"Okay," she relents, though her fears aren't entirely assuaged. She can tell he's favoring it, but she knows she can't stop him from doing what he pleases. "But know your limits."
He exhales loudly. "Put a cork in it. Worry about yourself."
She doesn't want to give in, but she lets it go for the time being.
Hopefully he's really okay...
They make their way through the glass wall and up to Cathy's computers. Ray examines it, while Zack goes to try the door. He finds it locked and growls angrily.
"...You shittin' me? What an annoying bitch."
"Yeah," Ray agrees.
"So what's the plan?" he asks, glancing her way.
She peers over the large console of buttons. "I'm not sure, but the door might open if we operate this machine here..."
She thumbs through various buttons, finding there's at least a hundred of them for a multitude of things.
"Surveillance videos for each room... A video delivery system... A trap activation system... Ah!" Her eyes zero in on the button she seeks. "There it is! The door release button!"
"I'm surprised the bitch was able to pull the strings from back here so well," he remarks bitterly.
"There's also an elevator passage button— I'll go ahead and activate that one, too," Ray says, taking it upon herself to alleviate that problem as well.
"Oh!" He cheers immediately, growing happier despite his pained expression. "Open it! Open it!"
After pressing both buttons and hearing satisfying clicks, she turns to him. "it should be open now."
He almost seems overly happy by their progress, pumping his free fist. "Yeah, we did it! Yahoo! Let's go!"
She stares at him a moment, wanting to question his rather cheery disposition, but decides against it. He's in pain and probably trying to keep things light, so she won't press him... for now.
They enter a velour, lush hall that's decorated with plush red carpet, and Zack frowns at the new territory.
"Huh? Where does this go?" he wonders aloud.
"...Beats me," she replies.
They walk out into another wider corridor, and they both seem to register it as familiar grounds.
"What the— this place seems familiar?" he says, and she nods in agreement.
"It's the first area we passed through," she explains.
"Wha-?! Don't tell me that cocky bitch's been around here right under our nose the whole time?!" he declares with outrage, before settling with a new thought. "Well, it doesn't really matter. She's worm food!"
Ignoring his comment, she peers around the hall, and he glances at her curiously.
"Hmm. I'm pretty sure this hallway had an unopened door somewhere," she tells him. "I think it's for the elevator passage."
His grin widens. "Nice! What're we waitin' around here for, then? Let's blow this popsicle stand!"
He hurries forward and she trails behind watching him. If she didn't know better, she'd say he wasn't injured at all, but she can see the way he limps slightly and favors his arm from being shot.
I think he's hurting more than he's letting on...
They find the right door and pass through a much different, plain white tile passage. As they walk through, Ray spots some scribbled writing on the wall that looks written in near cursive.
"To God give thy name and thou shalt be admitted entrance, if thou art free from deceit. Offer the name that resides within thee, and then know thyself. Know this; God values not the corrupt."
Ray's eyes scan the words several times over with blank eyes, and Zack narrows his eyes at her, clearly not understanding what's given her pause.
"Hey, how long you gonna be readin' that for? Is somethin' interestin' written down there?"
She snaps out of her thoughts, and shakes her head.
"Uhh... not especially," she fibs.
Well, not to you, anyway. For me, it feels like... a warning...
"Huh? Well, why were you so serious while you read it?" he continues questioning, not taking her answer well.
She frowns, before pursing her lips and shaking her head a second time. "...I'm sorry. Don't worry about it, let's go."
She walks forward ahead of him, not waiting for his response, and he falls quiet behind her. A moment later, they reach the end of the hall, which dead-ends into the elevator passage. Though they try to open it, it refuses to budge.
"...It won't open," she murmurs.
"We come all this way, and this?!" Zack grumbles with annoyance, before turning to her. "Hey, think it'll open with that button-riddled machine from earlier?"
She's already frowning before he's finished. "I'm pretty sure there wasn't an elevator boot switch even on the control machine... Let me think."
While she starts to figure out the puzzle in front of them, he steps back, shoving his hand in his pocket absently.
"Oh, I'll uh... let you do the thinkin' for the both of us."
While he watches her, leaning against the wall for a moment, she places a hand to her chin and ponders the elevator. There's nothing visible akin to a switch or a button for them use, but there's a rectangular indentation next to it.
She nears it, peering at the inside of the dent, and her brows press together thoughtfully.
This indentation... Come to think of it, the words 'bid thy name' were written on the wall we saw. 'Bid thy name'... I'm pretty sure we have something with our names written on them.
Ray roots through her bag, flipping past the gun, and the needle and thread, finding the flat object she wants— the written placards from earlier, when Cathy forced them to take photos.
She takes her own and places it into the indentation. It fits snugly into the crevice, but nothing happens. Ray waits for a trigger or click of some kind to alert her it worked, but her own placard has no effect.
...Nope, it's not this one, she notes, dipping her fingers under it and taking it off the wall. Placing it back into her bag, she retrieves Zack's and mounts it in the indentation, pressing it firmly in.
This time, there's a victorious click, and then the whir of machinery as the elevator grows active.
Ah, good, that should've worked.
"Hey, don'tcha have one left over that way?" Zack asks her, coming to stand by her side.
She's quiet, thinking of her placard and how it was rejected by the wall. It makes words from the passage on the hall repeat in her thoughts.
'Thou shalt be admitted entrance, if thou art free of deceit.'
Would that mean that the elevator mechanism thinks she is deceitful...? Is she classified as a sinner, then, as Cathy put it?
Her gaze falls from the bag, and she shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly.
"...It's leftover," she murmurs. "I'll throw this one away."
He peeks at her face curiously. "You sure about that?"
Ray returns his gaze levelly and nods.
"Yeah. It doesn't look necessary."
Next to Zack, the elevator doors slide open, revealing the small room, and he grins wide happily.
"Oh, it opened! We're gettin' on."
"...Wait-"
He practically runs into it. She reaches out to give him pause, but he's already within the confines.
Don't leave me behind.
She joins him in the dim lift, the door slamming to a close behind her, and she slowly walks to the rear, pressing her back to the somewhat dirty wall. At this point, her limbs feel exhausted, even with the small nap she'd had thanks to Zack's care.
We're almost out. Next is B2 then, I think. If we can make it through the last two floors, Zack can escape... and then he can kill me.
Ray closes her eyes for a moment, inhaling softly, and for some reason Cathy's mangled body flashes over her mind's eye. She can still feel the recoil of the gun in her hands. Funny, she hardly remembers the first few seconds after she pulled the trigger; it's a blur in her memory. In fact, the most vivid thing that she can recall from that moment was how determined she felt to kill Cathy before she could end Zack's life.
It didn't matter how, or why, or what it took for me to stop her. I only knew I had to do something.
"—Hey, Ray."
The girl is taken from her thoughts by Zack's voice. He seems chipper, and she blinks at him, wondering what might be on his mind.
He grins at her toothily. "You did a helluva job back there."
Not expecting those words to come from him, she tilts her head, surprised.
"What do you mean...?"
"I mean, you did a hell of a job shootin' that crazy bitch," he praises her, crossing his arms and letting his scythe dangle over his shoulder. "Feels like a steamroller's been lifted off my shoulders!"
Wide-eyed by his words, she can only answer, "...Yeah."
The boy takes a moment before flopping down onto the elevator floor, the action lightly shaking the metal cage. Lying his arm over a raised knee, he lays his weapon down and presses his head to the wall for a moment with closed eyes. After a second or two, he peeks open at her.
"...Hey, Ray. So what brought you here in the first place?" he asks in a quieter, calmer tone, but filled with interested undertones.
She opens her mouth, but all that comes out is, "Oh..."
What brought me here in the first place...
That... was a murder...
For a brief second, the mental images start to flood her mind again, but she forcefully represses them. Instead, she swallows and replies.
"...I witnessed a murder... and came here for counseling..." she tells him, allowing herself to retell the story in vague detail. "When I awoke, I was on the lowest floor of this building."
His face contorts with confusion, his lips pressing together. "Huh? That makes no sense."
She turns away from him, and a cold smile flits across her lips for a short, brief second.
"...Tell me about it."
"...Hmph." He ponders her words for a few heartbeats, before coming up with a new question. "...Oh, and the gun you fired... It wasn't the bitch's, was it? What's the story on that?"
Protectively, out of reflex, her hand splays against the side of her purse, where the gun resides once more.
"This..." she says slowly, "...is my gun."
His eyes widen, and he waves a hand. "Where'd you get your hands on somethin' like that?"
"...Inside my handbag, wrapped in a handkerchief," she replies. "I've had it ever since I witnessed the murder."
He falls silent, but hen he looks at her with questioning in his eyes.
"Then... why didn't you just use it in the beginning?" he asks her.
"I will not kill myself," she states firmly, not even giving it a second thought. "God would not forgive me."
"Nah." He waves a hand to dismiss her words, shaking his head. "I didn't mean just that."
...Oh. He must mean when he tried to kill me.
"Besides, you're the one who will kill me," she tells him.
Zack gives her an odd look, before lowering his head, chuckling under his breath.
"...I'm not sure if you're an idiot or smart," he comments, before looking back up at her. "At any rate, what you did back there— shooting that bitch— was the right thing. It makes me laugh just thinking about it. The timing was absolutely perfect!"
Ray studies his smiling face, feeling strange about how upbeat he seems to be with such a large wound in his stomach. But, something about his positive attitude makes her chest feel a little warmer.
"...You're in a good... mood," she lightly notices.
He flashes a bright grin her direction. "You could say that. You too, right?"
She's given pause by the turnaround of her statement, but she finds he's not wrong. She hadn't realized it, but listening to him talk was making her feel... happier somehow.
Ray turns away, and a real smile of her own lights across her mouth. For a fleeting moment through everything, she feels like something is right. It's so different from how hopeless she'd been when she first woke up.
"...Yeah," she answers brightly.
The two fall into a comfortable silence after that, and a couple minutes later the elevator comes to a stop. The doors slide open, and she exhales.
On to B2.
"...We're here," she says, beginning to take a few steps forward toward the door— but something stops her.
It's so quiet... with only her own footsteps.
She turns around to look at her companion, and she realizes his eyes have closed. His head is slumped to one side. Something icy slides down her spine, and she can't explain why her heartbeat suddenly sounds so loud in her ears.
"...Zack?"
No answer. He doesn't move even at her call, and just like that, she feels the worst kind of fear envelop her.
Panic encases her form. She runs to his side, gripping his shoulders, shaking him, calling out his name— but he doesn't wake up even with all the desperation she pours into her actions.
He doesn't move.
No, no, no, no, no—!
"Zack...!?"
A/n: Lightly edited.
Hey guy! A quicker update this time, and just as long as you probably expected at this point.. hahaha. I put some real effort into this, to my surprise. It was fun to write (and I think I wanted to cry when Zack stabbed himself, truth be told. )
I'm currently trying to juggle work along with this, so please wish me luck with it! (it's actually kinda fun!) Life's a pain but I'm somehow managing to churn out 13k chapters, so I must be doing something right. ^^
Anyways, here you go! I hope this is enough to hold y'all until I come back. Next up, floor B2... and whether or not Zack lives to see the light of day.
Read on and give me a review to make me smile? (or just for feedback reasons? ^^)