Kara stood steadfast by the mouth of the beast, a nervous twitch in her hands and her shallow breaths trembling as she stared into the abyss beyond the metal doors. With every inch she slithered, the deeper her mind dug, mulling over each and every point in her life that could have brought her here—every person she's slighted, every misdeed she's done. But with every thought that came and left, another seemed to linger ever closer. Another that she couldn't ignore no matter how hard she tried.
The cold seeped in between her scales as she sunk into the darkness' embrace, the cell door slamming shut with a bang that lingered in the quiet air. But all Kara could do was let her breath fall heavy, shutting her eyes tight as she slipped back into the far reaches of her mind.
Don't kid yourself, Kara.
You know why you're here.
You know exactly why you're here.
14th of April, 2040. Twenty-eight souls, snuffed out like it was nothing... all that destruction… all those bodies… that neonate from the crime scene photos leaked to the city intranet…
Maybe it's about time that the past caught up to you.
She opened her eyes as the second door slid open with an ear-piercing screech, the ill-lit room beyond ever so slowly taking shape.
No. You deserve this, Kara.
You deserve this.
As though right on cue, a lone light flickered to life from somewhere in the emptiness above, casting a gentle orange glow over a clear box suspended high in the middle of the room, a metal collar hanging within—the same metal collar that sealed the fate of Cassandra's game not a few minutes earlier.
Every sense in her body was telling her to cower; to turn away and claw at the doors still sealed shut. But Kara remained steadfast, fists clenched by her side and her breathing as even as even could get in a situation like this. There was no running, no hiding, no tuning out the world and pretending that nothing was amiss… well, not this time, at least.
She slithered closer, the metal floor rubbing against her tail as she circled the box once and then twice, running a talon along its surface as she eyed the collar inside; the inanimate object mocking her from the safety of its little enclosure.
Her eyes found their way to the one-way window on the wall, and for a moment she stared, as though expecting the players beyond to offer her some word of advice. But across from the wall, the glint of something sharp caught the dull light above… followed by another glint, then another, then another…
And as her slitted eyes ever so slowly adjusted to the darkness around her, it soon became apparent she was staring down a wall of angled blades she could only describe as a cheese grater, her next breath catching in her gullet as she turned back to the box across from it, her hand snaking up over the side for any sense of just what this game was expecting of her.
But there were no mechanical workings to bind her, no gravelly tape to read out her rules or ticking timer to count down her final seconds, and the snake could only circle the room so many times before she ran out of things to look at.
"What do you want me to do?" she muttered to no one in particular, her own voice echoing off the walls in response. "I-I don't…"
Her voice trickled away into the silence before a crack in the wall caught her eye, a gentle glow leaking out from beyond beckoning the Viper ever closer. It provided a glimpse into the cell next door, the adjacent room completely bare save for a simple red switch on the far wall, well beyond arm's reach—if she could even fit an arm through the slot in the first place.
She turned to the collar, and then to the hole, tapping a finger against the metal wall before flicking her tongue in the cool air, another stifled breath falling from her maw as it finally dawned on her just what she was expected to do.
My tongue… I could definitely reach that switch with my tongue.
She took one last glance around the room, first to the collar suspended in its little container, then to the wall of blades reaching high into the ceiling looming behind, before finally returning to the switch in the next room over. All the necessary calculations came as natural as breathing, and with one last exhale to shake the nerves, Kara pressed her maw against the slit, shooting out her tongue into the unknown beyond before her mind had any chance to protest.
It met its target in a matter of milliseconds, only for a searing pain to ricochet back through her body as she tried to pull away, the tip of her tongue grating along a row of metal barbs that snagged it like a fishing line.
"Hello, Kara," a modulated voice echoed from an unseen speaker, reverberating off the cold, metal walls that surrounded her from all sides. "I want to play a game."
A flood of white light overtook the room with a mechanical clunk, the rumble of distant pipes filling the lingering silence before the sound of static echoed out from above, the tape playing over the speakers continuing on without pause—her game has finally begun.
"Two years ago on the morning of April 14th, an improvised plasma bomb being transported in the back of an unmarked van was detonated in the middle of a crowded Downtown street, wiping away sixteen souls in an instant, and a further ten more over the course of twenty-six days as a result of fatal injuries sustained in the attack. The oldest victim was a fifty-four-year-old resistance veteran sitting in the cafe across the street; the youngest, a six-month-old neonate in the backseat of her mother's car, travelling behind the van at the initial point of detonation."
She clenched her eyes shut, the throbbing pain shooting back through her tongue showing no signs of stopping. But through the darkness, all she could hear was the bang, all she could feel was the shockwave; the distant car alarms, the echoing screams heard all across the city…
"This attack was the incident that brought Grey Pheonix from a mere group of scavengers under local police investigation, to an active terrorist group marked on the hit-list of the city's anti-terrorism forces, lighting the fuse that eventually lead to the group's downfall a mere two weeks later. You were the one that designed and built that bomb. You were the one that mis-primed the trigger, resulting in a premature detonation in transit to its intended target at the Downtown Starport."
There was another rumble in some unseen pipes, a gentle warmth tickling her face before she peeled her eyes back open, the next room over taking on a gentle orange glow. She squinted, and as the static whirred on, it quickly became obvious just what she was seeing—flames, growing gradually higher from the corners of the next room over.
"The average Viper holds roughly eighteen metres of tongue, nineteen when pulled to the absolute limit. Upon the commencement of your game, the contraption currently binding your own will begin to pull at a rate of four inches a second, granting you roughly three minutes before you're pulled into the next room over to be roasted alive, much like the victims of your bomb all those years ago."
The wall she laid her hands vibrated, and Kara fell back from her tail, her tongue forced out a few inches further like a line of elastic getting pulled from an open wound. The wall parted, and like a curtain on some fucked up stage, the room beyond was revealed in its entirety, a gust of warm air washing over her as the flames shot ever higher.
Her tongue slipped out further as she scrambled back along the ground, stopped only by the grater resting against the opposite wall, a chunk of her shirt getting ripped away on the angled blades.
"Rest assured, however, for this is not a death sentence, but a chance to shed your old life away, should you choose to take it—the wall sitting behind you holds multiple blades more than capable of piercing a Viper's hardened hide. You have three minutes to tear the equivalent of one pound of flesh and scale from your body, dispensing it into the base of the bladed wall below, and only then will your tongue be released and your ticket to freedom granted. Live or die, Kara. Make your choice."
The tape fizzled away with a click, the encroaching flames tingling her face as the contraption that kept her bound clunked to life, tugging on the metal hooks before ever so slowly beginning to pull her tongue from the depths of her maw.
A stifled breath brushed away on the warm air, her eyes returning to the bladed wall as she slid a talon back against it, a warm trickle of blood seeping into her shirt from where she first ripped it. There was a pit of anxiety in her chest that only grew the longer she looked, and despite it, a thought she couldn't shake kept scratching at the back of her head; a thought telling her she deserved this, that she's finally gotten what was coming to her.
The hand that graced the blades trembled, and ever so slowly she pressed her finger deeper, a gentle hiss emanating from the depths of her gullet as a drop of blood trailed down into the palm of her hand. And with a deep breath, she rose by tail alone; leaning her back against the blades before taking a moment to simply feel the cold against her scales.
Her eyes rose to the growing flames ahead, her tongue still sliding from her maw at an alarming rate, and with a deep exhale through gritted fangs she slid back down, tearing through cloth and scale alike as a pained scream rose from the depths of her gullet—no amount of mental preparation could have prepared her for the sensation of metal parting flesh; of warm blood soaking her body and staining her clothes yellow.
She broke from the wall a mere halfway down, collapsing onto her side as she snapped her hands to her bloodied back, a guttural scream echoing out across the room. But not a single scale was even close to coming loose, the contraption latched down tight onto her tongue showing no signs of slowing.
You deserve this...
The words bounced around her head; a distant voice screaming as loud as it could, trying to claw its way inside. But despite it, the words seemed to bring some undue comfort, providing a mere glimpse of clarity from beyond the pain.
Whatever happens here today, whatever road your choices have led you down—be it a slow and painful death in the confines of an oven, or a last minute victory against this sadistic game—you deserve it.
You deserve this, Kara.
You deserve this.
A gentle whimper overtook the sound of crackling flames as she slowly rose back up, her fists clenched in a feigned show of will power as she pressed back against the blades once more. Her eyes fell shut, the nearby fire only growing as she scraped down as far as her body would allow before breaking away with yet another pained hiss.
It all felt so easy in her head, her actions so simple in a void without influence, but now—with the blood dripping from her back and the tears welling in her eyes—everything just felt so… real.
No.
You've already wasted too much time.
And right now, hesitation is death. You have to make it through this, Kara... you have to.
Her trembling body rose once again, the machine slick with her own blood as she leant herself back against the angled blades, grating against the lacerated flesh and scale still clinging to her body.
The cold air seeped into her open wounds as she grinded herself down, gritting through the searing pain that shot through her body like an open flame. But the snake didn't waiver, and by her tail alone she rose once again, the gentle patter of blood drops feeding the machine below drowned out only by her choppy hisses.
The metal barbs that snagged her tongue cut deeper, and her body only instinctively pulled back harder, trapping her in an eternal tug-of-war that felt as though it would end with her tongue getting torn in half outright.
She pressed herself back against the blades, the metal digging down into the skin beneath her hide before she grinded back down with a hiss, a wet chunk of scale hitting the ground below. She dropped to her hands with a stifled cry of relief, talons scraping along the metal floor as she dragged the gore back into the machine before raising them thereafter to wipe her tear-soaked eyes, leaving behind a streak of blood in its place.
The machine clunked—a small, audible confirmation that things were working, that progress was being made—and with her bloodied fists clenched tight, Kara climbed up once again, steadfast in wake of the fear and pain that flooded her body.
But for a moment her tongue caught in her maw, jolting her head forward before she pulled back against the bladed wall, eyes on the growing flames ahead. The end of her fuse was quickly approaching, too much time already taken up by pointless hesitation—she had to take action, and she had to take it now.
She grated her scales back down the bloodied blades, the hole in her flesh granting her the catch the machine needed to begin really digging in. Another chunk of scale was peeled away on the first slide, the pain clawing its way up through the adrenaline on the second.
But she didn't slow, and with the first chunk she ripped another; bloodied scale still clinging to her mangled flesh, before getting dragged back away into the base of the machine with a pain-ridden scream. And with a jolt, her head snapped forward again, the sensation of her tongue getting pulled from her maw growing ever more prevalent the closer she ticked to her theoretical end—that eighteen metre limit had been broken, and she was definitely starting to feel it now.
It was no longer a silent fuse fizzling away in the background, but an active hindrance tugging her closer with every pull, her tongue stretching further and further with each second that passed.
But the machine's hunger was yet to be sated; the flesh that clung to her back still holding on tight.
A mechanical hiss echoed through the room, and with it Kara fell, landing on the ground with a thud as she was ever so slowly dragged towards the burning flames. But she couldn't pull back—there wasn't anymore tongue to pull back—and the harder she tried, the more she was sure that her insides were the only thing that would be coming out next.
She squirmed against the cold ground, a mere breath of space between her and her key to freedom that only grew further and further with every second that ticked by. The blood-soaked ground stained her clothes and scales alike as she thrashed like a fish out of water, and with an adrenaline-fueled scream she shot her hand to her back, her razor-sharp talons digging into the open wounds as she grabbed hold and tore with every bit of energy she had left.
The mangled flesh parted, and through mere willpower alone she ripped away another fistful of mangled scale, throwing it back down the machine's gullet before collapsing with a stifled sob, motionless and silent as she was dragged ever closer to the growing flames.
You deserve this…
This is how you die…
You deserve this…
Her weary eyes fell shut, her body silent and still. But not a moment later a buzzer sounded from somewhere within the muffled void, the warmth on her face fading as the room returned to the darkness' icy embrace. There was a clunk, and with it her tongue finally won its eternal tug-of-war, unravelling from around the barbed switch before shooting back into her maw in a flash, the taste of singed flesh and bitter metal assaulting all her senses at once.
She rolled onto her side, eyes first falling to the one-way glass before rising to the clear box suspended right beside it, the side popping open with a beep to relinquish the treasures within.
I did it…
She pressed her fists into the ground, her tail struggling to lift her weight as she slowly rose once again, reaching out for the box mere inches away.
I actually did it…
Her fingers slid inside the casing, wrapping tight around the metal collar before she pulled it close to her body, studying it under what little artificial light she had. It opened as she tugged it, and ever so slowly she slid it up around her neck, locking it in place with a click. But there was something different on it—something that wasn't meant to be.
Her bloodied fingers found their way over a small lump attached to the metal, and with an effortless tug it fell loose, her palm rising to the light as she finally got a glimpse at just what it was that she was holding—a remembrance pin in the style of a simple yellow ribbon, worn in consolidation with the April 14th victims each and every anniversary. A small insignia she was all too familiar with.
She clutched it tight to her chest, a stifled sob cracking from beneath the pain as she fell to the ground once again, yellow blood staining what remained of her torn up shirt.
You're alive, Kara… you're alive…
Logan leant against the far wall, one hand in his pocket and the other clutching the fang on his necklace like a boon, watching on in silence as the other two aliens crowded around the snake's cell.
A heavy clunk echoed through the halls, and with it Logan dropped his hands, the cell doors sliding open to reveal the snake slithering out from the darkness within, a distant look engrained deep in her face.
"I did it…" she muttered between staggered breaths, her hands at a rest on the collar bound to her neck. "I did it…"
Her tail gave, and Clay jumped forward to catch her before she fell, lowering the snake to the cold hard ground below before pressing his boney hands to her wounds.
"Hey, Kara, can you hear me?" He knelt by her side, the snake giving nothing but incoherent mumbles as he tapped a hand on the side of her face, turning to the room in a panic thereafter. "We need something to halt the bleeding… a piece of fabric, maybe… a shirt? A shirt. Vince, you're the biggest here. Give me your shirt."
The Muton blinked once and then twice before shaking himself from his stupor, sliding his shirt up and over his head before handing it off the Sectoid standing by, leaving the brute in nothing but a white, sweat-stained tank-top.
"Are you a doctor?" Vince huffed.
"I wish. I have a first aid course under my belt from a few months back, but other than that?" he trailed off as he got to work, the Muton's shirt nearly wrapping the snake's torso twice over. "We just have to stop the bleeding, though, right? That's the important part. Stop the blood from coming out. Everything that comes after that we can worry about once we're out of here."
He tied the shirt into something that resembled a bandage, and Kara gave nothing but a feeble wince of acknowledgement, hands sliding up around her chest as Clay tried his hardest to secure the fabric in place. A buzzer across the hall, and for a moment everyone's attention shifted to the blast doors, another lock clanking loose as the corresponding light turned green—two games down, another three to go.
"Kara, hey, say something," Clay spoke up, pressing his bony fingers to her neck. "Talk to me, Kara."
"I did it…" Her trembling voice rang out low and meek, meeting no resistance over the silent room. "I'm alive…"
"Is she going to be alright?" Vince huffed, that insistent fidgeting picking up once more as he paced back and forth across the hall, paying the scene nothing more than a side-long glance.
"I don't know," he replied, dropping his arms to his side. "I just... I don't know."
"Those wounds are going to get infected," Logan spoke up.
"Not immediately," Clay shot back, taking to his knees. "We'll get her to a hospital once we're out of here."
"Yeah, if we get out of here," he scoffed. "She's not worth the energy, doc."
The snake grew lively once again as a gentle whimper escaped her maw, the tip of her tail curling in on itself as she hugged her body closer. But from down the hall, the huff of a hot-headed brute came to grab their attention, the Muton marching past to address the camera blinking away on the far wall.
"Hey, the Viper needs medical attention!" Vince called out, throwing his hands in the air. "Come on, she beat your damn game! What's the point if she just dies afterwards, huh? I know you're listening in there!"
"I'm fine, Vince," Kara choked out, ever so slowly pushing herself up off the ground. "Please... I'm fine…"
Clay laid out a hand that was promptly brushed aside as she pulled herself up against the wall, the t-shirt tied around her chest already wet with yellow blood. She let out a breath, her hands dropping by her side as she took to her tail for a mere second before staggering, catching herself on the Sectoid standing close by.
"So, who's next?" Logan spoke up, the lot of them shooting him a glare as he nodded to the timer on the far wall. "We don't have all day."
"You better start watching what you say, human," Vince huffed. "Your Viper friend isn't exactly in the best condition to save you now."
"Try me," he scoffed. "I'm not scared of you."
The brute furrowed his brow as he turned his attention away from the cameras, fists clenched tight by his side as he huffed like a charging bull, only for it all to subsequently simmer away as quickly as it all began. Vince let out a scoff, turning down the hall without so much as another word before Logan returned his eyes to the Sectoid and the snake, crossing his arms to his chest before giving his necklace another idle brush.
"Let's just take five, figure out where we're going to go from here," Clay spoke up. "We still have time… we still have plenty of time…"
"We have an hour-and-a-half," Logan hissed back, shooting a finger down the hall, "before that gas in the air turns me into a fucking zombie. We need every second we can get here."
His voice carried out across the empty hall, bouncing off the blast doors before simmering away into the still air, the rest of the group barely sparing him so much as a glance of acknowledgement. And with a scoff, he turned, settling back against the wall with nothing but a shake of the head.
"Fuck it," Vince huffed, staring into the reflection of his cell's window. "Open the door, Clay. Let's just get this over and done with. I can't take another second in this fucking prison."
There was a brief pause; an exchange of uncertain glances as Clay ever so slowly crossed his arms, his beady black eyes falling to the ground below.
"I'm not…" He stopped, his eyes trailing up towards Cassandra's cell as he cleared his throat with a grunt, the Hybrid's body pale and still. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable being the executioner here."
"You're the only one that knows how to operate the cells, bud," Logan scoffed.
"I'm not doing anything special," he replied. "Just hit that big red button. Whoever redesigned this place reprogrammed all the locks."
The Muton stepped to his door, his pudgy fingers hovering over the touchscreen for a moment before he gave it a few random taps, the metal doors opening with an ear-piercing screech thereafter. He cracked his neck, flexed his fists, and with another huff snapped back around, muttering mindless nothings as he tried to psych himself up. He turned to Cass' cell, his breaths ringing out loud and heavy before the snake caught his attention with a feeble nod, her face contorted with a pain she wasn't willing to show.
"You've got this," she hissed, before Vince turned back to his cell with a guttural sigh, taking his first steps into the darkness without so much as some final words to bid them goodbye.