Chapter 25 – Leave These Losers to Their Fates

Author's Note: 2 down, probably 2 to go. This is a dark one, y'all, be prepared for violence and etc. Again, I haven't watched the show in ages, so this is probably going to track with absolutely nothing, I'm mostly just making stuff up at this point. Also, if you like Ezra, you probably shouldn't read this chapter or anything that follows, just a heads up.

Spencer's POV

Not even sure I really like this chapter, but here you go. All mistakes are my own.

TW: Depression, intense physical violence, name-calling, trauma, involuntary drug use.

Disclaimer: None of the characters or storylines from Pretty Little Liars are mine. If they were, it would be one big Spemily story (and there would be no predatory men who get to do whatever they want without consequences).

My head felt heavy. So heavy.

The world seemed to float around me in a dense, oppressive fog – there, but also, somehow, not. It felt like that feeling of being inside during a dark, heavy rainstorm; there was, of course, a world out beyond that curtain of water, but you have somehow convinced yourself that it's not really there, a figment, a memory.

Then, Emily's voice started trickling in in bits and spurts. "I love you" and "always" flitted through my brain. I had no concept of time, but somehow, I knew when she was there, like a warm blanket and a cup of tea shrouding me, protecting me from the oppressive fog.

I was lost and drifting, but my anchor, she was there, always trying to pull me back.

- Spemily -

"Spence," a voice hissed in my ear, vibrating along the cartilage before creating a strange, buzzing tickle on my eardrum that made me want to crawl out of my skin.

It took a moment, but the migraine that followed hit with a vengeance, and there was no way I could possibly open my eyes. I just hummed in response; anything else was far beyond my capacity.

"Oh, thank the gods," Hanna sighed, much too loudly for my aching head, "It's been a couple of days since they drugged you, so we were hoping maybe the pills were starting to wear off… Other than the obvious pain that is shouting from your face, are you ok?"

A long "shhh" was all I could manage in response, eyes squeezed tightly shut, head hanging uncomfortably forward. The crick in my neck decided to flare up at that precise moment, and I groaned loudly as I was hit with a wave of full-body pain. Hanna clucked uncomfortably, obviously not sure what to do.

"Give her a minute, Han," a quiet voice whispered from my right.

I knew that voice. I needed to see the face that went with that voice, fuck the pain.

Slowly, I shifted my head centimeter by centimeter to the right, doing my best to turn toward my anchor as minimally as possible. My eyes inched open incrementally, the dim light searing through my head, but I finally got them open enough to at least see her silhouette.

"Em," I croaked out, my voice so quiet I was worried she wouldn't hear me.

"I'm here, babe," was her immediate but still quiet reply, "I wish I could be over there, but we're all pretty limited at the moment."

I blinked my eyes a bit, trying to clear up my vision and see what exactly she meant.

My brain finally caught up a little bit at least, and I felt the restraints on my arms. I was still strapped to a chair, but I obviously was not still in my fake room, which was only more confusing. Still, my thoughts were lethargic; reasoning through anything in that moment was a pipe dream.

Blinking a few more times, I could see that Emily was in a similarly restrained situation. And so was Hanna. And Aria. And Mona.

I spun my head around slowly, wondering if I was missing something behind me.

I couldn't find Alison, and it shouldn't have been hard – we were all arranged in a circle in the middle of an industrial, sterile-looking room with a single, window-less door that looked more like a hatch in a submarine than anything else.

"We were all brought in here a couple of days ago. They never brought Ali. So far, we haven't figured out what that means. Or where we are, or why, for that matter. No one has brought us food or water, so we're getting into dangerous territory here," Mona offered efficiently, her words quick, staccato, ricocheting uncomfortably off my brain.

Processing was not something I was doing very effectively yet. So, I just kind of blinked at her, still confused but very aware that I should not have been.

"Looks like our final contestant is finally awake and aware! Took you long enough, Spencer," a garbled, mechanical voice came through the intercom system somewhere above our heads – my neck couldn't shift up yet, so I couldn't actually get a look at it, but it was obviously there somewhere.

The static made me want to scratch my ears out of my head – all crackles and pops and never-ending buzzing that sat in my eardrums long after the voice faded.

"What in the ever-living fuck," Hanna ground out, seething and terrified at the same time.

"Come now, Hanna. After all this sitting around and staring at walls, don't you want to play one final game?"

The voice was less garbled now, closer, somehow, more distinct. I didn't understand what that meant in the moment, but I knew it meant something. Probably something important, but I couldn't get my brain to function well enough to analyze what that might be.

"We're done playing your games. Unless it's the game where you all finally stop being cowards and take off the masks. If we're never getting out of here, why disguise your voice? Why not just do away with the farce of the omnipresent A if we'll never be able to tell anyone who you bastards are anyway?" Emily demanded, loudly, angrily.

She was authoritative in a way I hadn't seen her before. Gone was the self-hating, depressed, beaten-down person I had found before the drugging began. Gone was the frightened but trying girl who existed prior to our kidnapping.

This was someone else entirely.

Emily was somehow resigned to her fate while simultaneously ready to fight to the death. Her eyes burned, her spine was straight and proud, her head never sagged or bent in defeat.

A warrior sat there, staring at the intercom above her head in defiant loathing, her words shooting from her mouth like so many bullets, and I had never been more proud.

"Tsk tsk tsk, now now, Emily, no need to ruin the game, we can't just skip ahead to the next chapter, you haven't even passed the first test yet," the voice mocked in response, a stupid giggle following the computerized words as if A had made some great joke.

We weren't laughing.

"First question on your final test," the voice sing-songed, "who is the weakest link?"

Everyone was silent but Emily's eyes burned with rage.

"I am," she stated calmly, without an ounce of emotion.

My brain was still cloudy, but I understood what was happening to a degree. I had to get her out of there. My vision narrowed and my only focus was on Emily as I subtly began testing the restraints on my wrists and ankles. I needed to do something.

"Em," I whispered harshly, looking straight into her eyes, denying her words with every ounce of my being.

If anyone was the weakest link in that moment, it was me.

A was quiet for a long moment. Emily just stared at me imploringly, pleading with me to let her do whatever she planned to do. I continued to wriggle and slide around in my chair, slowly loosening the restraint on my right wrist that was somehow looser than the others.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see if you're right, Emily," A offered almost quietly, the lilt of the words different from before, somehow, as if someone else, someone with an accent, was saying them.

My eyes widened in understanding. Emily just nodded at me. Apparently, she already knew. Brain still sluggish, I was struggling to get to the end of that train of thought when the door into the room slammed open, admitting the two masked figures who drugged me.

The two masked figures I already knew. Well, one I was fairly certain of, but the other I knew without a doubt.

"Still insisting on playing dress up, Ezra? Which personality are you putting on today? Controlling pedophile or naïve good guy?" I wheezed out, my voice hoarse and weak.

It did not come out as forcefully as I would have liked.

Emily's eyes were the size of saucers as she looked at me warningly, concerned and unsure of what to do next. I had messed up whatever plan she had, but I couldn't help it. Seeing Ezra and who I assumed was Noel advancing on her from the door, I had to do something.

Mona threw an enormous eye roll in my direction to let me know I had definitely just fucked up whatever plan the girls had had.

Whoops.

Ezra turned slowly in my direction, reaching up to remove the creepy doll mask he wore in the process. The smirk on his face was belied by the fury that sat behind his eyes, burning and rageful and ready to kill.

"Spencer, Spence, Spencer," he clucked as he advanced, looking ready to throttle me where I sat. "Why must you always try so hard to ruin my game?"

I couldn't tell if that was an honest question or just rhetorical, but I assumed the answer was pretty obvious.

"Ugh, you should have let me kill her when I suggested it, dude. She's more trouble than she's worth, the useless whore," Noel groused, also removing his mask and glowering at me, his nose scrunched up in disgust.

The scene was almost comical, Ezra and Noel standing there in black hoodies, holding doll masks by their sides as they glared in what should have been a menacing fashion. I, somehow, found myself giggling, though. It was just so absolutely ludicrous that it felt surreal, like it was all happening in my head rather than in the real world.

Our kidnappers looked gobsmacked for a moment, as though giggling was the last reaction they expected me to have to their threats. Emily was trying extremely hard to wriggle out of her restraints behind them, obviously terrified of what they would do in response.

I just kept giggling. I couldn't stop.

Noel gathered his wits first, and they immediately turned into rage.

"You worthless slut, shut your goddamn mouth," he ground out, seething as he advanced on me. "If you don't, I'll fucking shut it for you."

With that, he wound up his arm before slapping me, open-handed, hard, straight across the face. My face stung immediately, and bright spots of light erupted in front of my eyes. I had time for just a single breath before the open hand was followed by a closed fist connecting with my cheekbone, bowling me over, chair and all, onto the floor. There had been a distinct crack when his knuckles impacted my face, and it was hard to tell if it was my face or his hand that was broken.

I had to have blacked out for a moment, because the next thing I knew, Noel was on the ground next to me, having the living daylights pummeled out of him by Ezra. Our former English teacher was transformed, the literal and figurative masks gone, his inner monster on full display. There was no doubt in my mind, he was going to kill Noel, I was certain of that even before the sickening crunch of bone rang through the room over and over and over again.

"You work for me, you piece of shit! I made you what you are! How dare you act without my instruction, without my permission! These bitches belong to me, and so do you! I'll bury you before I let you ruin this game! I'll fucking bury you!"

Ezra was screaming and yelling, going on and on and on, punching and screaming and completely out of control.

I made eye contact with Emily, letting her know I was okay, before carefully wriggling my right hand out from underneath me. The arm of the chair had broken when I fell, and I doubted Ezra could see anything but red at that moment, so I took the chance and untied myself before slowly moving over to Hanna where she sat to my left.

Once Hanna was free of her restraints, I motioned with my head to Mona, telling Hanna to keep moving to the left as I crept behind the bloody mess that was Ezra and over to Emily on the far side of the circle. Em stared at me with soft eyes as I untied her, brushing her fingers over my quickly swelling cheek before helping me untie her.

She stood, a little shaky but determined, and pushed me toward Hanna and Mona near the door as she moved to untie Aria.

That was when Ezra finally snapped out of it. He turned, covered in blood, to find all but one of us free, Emily actively untying Aria even as the blood-covered terror that was Ezra advanced on her. Looking frantically around me for a weapon, I found nothing but the chairs we had been tied to, and realized I had no other option.

Picking up the nearest chair to me, I lifted it behind me, swinging as hard as I could directly into Ezra's back. It barely made a dent. Ezra turned on me then, grabbing the chair and easily yanking it from my hands before smashing it like kindling against the far wall.

"Feeling brave, are we, Spencer? You ungrateful little bitch. I'll show you how to be appreciative when someone delays the inevitable for you," he sneered as he advanced, backing me into a corner even as I tried to evade him.

My brain was still sluggish, I couldn't figure out how to get away from him without leading him right back to Emily and the girls, and that wasn't an option.

He got closer and closer until my back was right up against the wall and he was leaning into me, hand wrapped around my neck.

"What do you say when someone saves your life, Spencer?" He demanded, tone sickly sweet and filled with the whispers of the damned.

I just stared at him, defiant, not willing to give in. I would thank him over my dead body.

"Thanks, dick," Emily practically screamed as she body slammed him into the wall before wrapping one of the ropes that had restrained us around his neck and pulled as tight as she could.

Ezra struggled, almost managing to get up, but Emily slammed his body to the ground again with her foot solidly between his shoulders, moving the other to crush his skull into the ground and pulling up on the rope around his neck at the same time. There was a sickening snap. He didn't move again.

Emily let out a shaky breath, standing there for a beat, the rope still in her hands.

Then she was moving again, dropping the rope, stepping away from Ezra's dead body, and bundling me quickly toward the door. Aria was standing in the doorway, mouth open, obviously in shock and unable to move. I wanted to reach out, but I seemed to have lost control of my limbs, and so I was grateful when Hanna carefully wrapped an arm around Aria's shoulders and guided her out into the hall.

My mind was floating somewhere outside my body as we wound our way through hallway after hallway. I had no idea where we were going or even who I was, really. Spencer didn't exist in any normal way as we continued to wend around corners and up short flights of stairs; I was just a shell, able to move only under direction. Emily's arm stayed tightly wrapped around my waist, half holding me up as we went, all fierce strength and barely contained fury.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" A hooded figure drawled out as we turned yet another corner, standing right in front of a set of seemingly endless stairs that were no doubt our salvation.

I knew that voice, too. The accent I had heard earlier finally made sense, and my brain kickstarted itself just the tiniest bit.

"What the fuck, Wren?" I demanded, voice still hoarse and body still leaning heavily on Emily as I sagged from exhaustion and terror.

"You should ask your dear friend that, Spencer. She's the one who started the game, after all," Wren offered with a definite smirk in his voice as a door opened to our right, Alison being paraded out by yet another hooded figure with a mask, a gun held tightly to her head.

Ali looked more mad than frightened, and that was somehow more terrifying. She looked like a toddler who was just told no rather than someone being threatened with death.

I held onto Emily a little tighter.

Wren removed his mask and pulled back the hood, offering us a decidedly evil grin as the other hooded figure stood before him, Alison in tow.

"Any of you move without permission, and dear Alison gets her brains splattered all over the wall," Wren explained matter of factly, no emotion in his voice at all.

"Don't listen to him, he's too much of a coward to do that, he knows that would mean losing the game," Alison mocked, rolling her eyes, voice cold and calculating.

"Ah, but you see, my dear, I already won," Wren responded, his voice cutting with arrogance and ego as he grabbed Alison's face by the chin and yanked her to look at him. "You lost, bitch."

Alison just smiled sweetly at him for a moment before abruptly swinging her head back and then forward, headbutting Wren with a loud smack. He went down, probably less from pain than from shock, but it was enough.

The hooded figure with the gun faltered for just a second and Ali capitalized, grabbing the gun and twisting the figure's arm until it snapped. A scream followed, a loud, haunting, familiar scream that we knew all too well, and Jenna fell to the ground, clasping her no doubt broken elbow. Ali just rolled her eyes before pulling the trigger, silencing Jenna forever, and then turning to do the same thing to a still shell-shocked Wren.

Then, Ali turned to us.

"He thought he could steal the game from me! From me! The person who created it! What a lot of bumbling fools these stupid bastards turned out to be," she cried almost gleefully, her eyes wild and skittering everywhere and nowhere around the halls. "Ah well, I suppose that game is over now, time to get back to work, I guess. Come on, Emily, we have things to do, time to leave these losers to their fates."

Emily didn't move, her eyes wide as she clutched even more tightly to me, moving almost imperceptibly to try to shield me from the weapon clutched in Ali's hands that had found its way to pointing directly at my face.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Alison," Em bit out, caustic and hard.

Alison laughed. The sound was eerily empty, echoing off the metal walls, seeming to bounce back at us from every angle.

"Oh, Emily, my dear, sweet, naïve Emily," Ali drawled, patronizing. "You don't have a choice, you stupid girl. You come with me, or I kill your dumb little friends. That wasn't a request, it was an order, and you will do as you are told."

I clutched onto Emily more tightly, pulling her so I was the one in front, between Emily and the gun Ali had pointed at us.

"She'll go with you over my dead body," I argued, staring Alison down even as I tried my best to stand upright, still dizzy and fairly certain I was concussed.

"Oh what an offer, Spencer, how could I possibly refuse?" Ali responded with obvious glee. "Well, say goodbye, Spence. I would say it's been nice knowing you, but that would be a lie even I wouldn't tell."

"Goodbye," called out a voice from the stairs before there was a loud bang and I found myself on the ground again, Emily having thrown her body on top of mine.

"Em? Em, are you ok? Baby, talk to me, please," I whimpered, trying to sit up or roll over or something to make sure Emily hadn't been hit.

Emily rolled off of me with a huff, grabbing my hand and placing a soft kiss to my knuckles as she laid on her back, taking a moment to respond.

"I'm okay, love, I promise. Sorry, I think I caught your elbow in my diaphragm," she responded with a cough.

I sat up slowly and began looking her over anyway, making sure she wasn't bleeding or hurt in some other way.

"Don't worry, Spence, Alison didn't get a shot off," a voice echoed down the hall, footsteps coming closer.

I spun as quickly as I could, my eyes landing on the familiar silhouette of my sister, gun in hand as she kicked Alison's away from one of the three unmoving bodies on the floor. Then she turned to me, worry etched deeply into her face.

"Come on, girls, let's get you home."