A/N: enjoy :D

Chapter 7:

Cartman had left shortly after I had finished crying.

My eyes were sore and most likely poofy and red.

I couldn't risk sleeping, it was still too dangerous.

I rolled round under the covers, not being able to find a single position that didn't hurt. I sat up sorely and slunked out of the bed. The floor was cold and hard beneath my feet. I tiptoed to the door without making a sound.

I figured it would be best not to get my hopes up and try to open it.

I sat down gently with my sore body. My head rested loosely on the wall and I sit beside the door on the side opposite of the handle.

Hours must have dulled by as I sat there. I thought about Ike and him being free, I hoped Cartman had kept his word.

I held my breath as footsteps drew near. I stood up and leaned as far back into the wall as I could.

The click of the lock was right on cue before the door swung open.

"Huh? Where is he?"

"I don't see him," I watched soundlessly as Jerry looked under the bed.

The smoker guarded the door before joining the search.

I swung around the door and slammed it closed, locking it.

They had left me alone for hours giving me all the time I needed to plan. I wasn't going to stay there to be further mutilated. I had the will to survive. I had family and friends. I had too much going to just sit back and let them get away with this.

Most of all I couldn't let Cartman win.

My heart raced as I turned and ran down the hallway. I had trapped two of them now but for all I knew they had a key.

Adrenaline filled me to the core like bolts of fire.

The hallway seemed never ending, there were tons of doors all around me. I took a turn left and found myself in a large dining room.

It was the type of room I would have naturally loved to wander about and relish but now it was nothing more than a beautiful dead end.

I went back to the hallway, hurrying along for another turn.

Another dead end.

I found myself opening doors then.

Wherever I was was extremely elegant and huge.

Each door lead to something new but none of them gave me the exit I was looking for.

I tried another.

Cartman was in it.

He was sleeping at his desk over papers of work. I etched myself slowly inside. My eyes fixed on what they wanted. I saw Cartman's holster, the one he kept his dagger in.

He moved and my heart skipped a beat, but he stayed asleep.

I continued towards the weapon, creeping closer and closer to it.

I watched Cartman as I felt for it where I knew it would be.

I idly gripped it in my hand. Violent images coursed through me.

It was out of its sheath now and in my grip. I stared at Cartman and then the blade.

This was the chance I prayed for I told myself.

Lifting it up.

If he was dead who would stop me from escaping?

I would win.

I decided past it and fled the room, if I would have stabbed him he would have alerted everyone.

That was my reasoning, it didn't sound convincing.

First I had to cut these ropes.

I made my way into an old dusty library and hid behind the shelves. Taking the knife's grip between my teeth and grinding the blade into the ropes.

I winced each time I missed and sliced into my hand instead. I hacked away at the binding. My lips were bruised against the handle as I took it back and forth.

In the end it was worth it.

It was almost like my hands weren't mine anymore. It felt alien to bend my fingers freely and rub my raw wrist.

I smiled, my eyes welling up with tears. It seemed too good to be true.

But I wasn't out yet, I took the blade, carrying it more comfortably now that my restraints were being left behind.

Back in the hallway, I carried myself more freely. Everything was going so well. I took more turns and twists in the labyrinth of a building.

It was like a maze, no matter where I went there was more hallway or another dead end.

I turned right, hoping this would be the lucky one.

It wasn't.

My body crashed into Donovan, I didn't have time to stop.

I collided with the floor, he looked far too happy to see me.

"Looks like a certain little Kitten thought they could escape," he grabbed at the collar of my shirt picking me back up. I instinctively slashed across his face with the dagger's jagged blade.

The blade was like an extension to my hand as it dug its way through his cheek over his nose and across his eyebrow.

He howled in pain falling back against a wall, trying to figure what just happened I stood.

I didn't have any time to waste.

Cartman must have heard his screams. I started to move again, trying to maneuver around him as he blocked the way.

"YOU FUCKING LITTLE SHIT!" he screamed at me, swinging his arms blindly while his blood blinded him.

The punch was like getting hit by a truck. My head crashed into a wall, cracking the paint on contact.

I heard yells and more footsteps. Donovan couldn't have been able to hear anything beyond his own wails. He continued thrashing around, attempting to grab me. His threats were idle in his wounded state, I enjoyed knowing I had hurt him.

Men I didn't recognize turned the corner. They had guns.

I decided to flee, passing around one of Donovan's wild arms and taking off down the hallway.

I should have thought there would be others beside Cartman and his four cronies here.

My mind had been dulled in my panic, I couldn't think strait.

There were apparently a lot more men, and they had many advantages against me.

The main one that concerned me was that they knew the place, giving them the time to cut me off. Not to mention they were all much larger and stronger than me and even I knew not to bring a knife to a gun fight.

I was trapped. They were closing me in from the front and back.

One ran up from behind, zooming ahead of the others. He got too close and I diced the knife upwards. It landed in his throat. I watched him as his blood lapped out at me, staining my skin, but I never let go. I felt his body go limp as it slithered off the weapon. He lay coiled in the floor slightly twitching. The men slowed down, easing there way closer. I pointed the knife at them. My eyes full of fury as I swung around to keep them as far back as I could.

"Kahl, just give up."

I was still holding the blood ridden dagger upwards still as I turned around to face everything in this moment.

Cartman was about 20 feet away from me with a gun aimed for my head.

The other men were farther back, still, from both of us.

We stared at each other for an eternity.

His brown eyes were intent on me.

I lowered my weapon and walked forward towards my enemy, my feet dragging lazily.

Was it really going to all end here?

"Drop the knife Kahl," was he afraid?

I obeyed and let it fall out of my fingers as I continued towards him.

My body was numb, I couldn't feel a thing. All my emotions, everything evaporated in the moment that was between me and him.

I decreased the distance between us, not looking at anything but Cartman and his gun. We were both too in the present to care about anything else.

I was arm's length from him. He didn't shoot, he didn't move.

I reached out slowly placing my hand on the barrel of the gun, sliding it out of his fingers; he practically gave it to me.

I held it with both hands, letting my fingers follow over the handiwork. Then I held it up and placed the tip to his forehead. The knife had felt more comfortable in my fingers. I had used one before in the past when I was young, I knew how to fire.

I wasn't sure what was happening or why he wasn't stopping me. He just saw me stab a man and Donovan's howls could still be made out in another hall. What was he thinking?

I cocked it, keeping a firm grip in my trembling hands.

This was my chance to kill the son of a whore who brought me here. The man who had me tortured by his lackeys and raped me twice already. The guy that held my head as he forced me to watch people being burned to death on his order. He was the one who had my brother, he could have had the rest of my family for all I knew as well. The same person I fought with through my entire life. I could end everything right now by pulling the trigger and blasting his brains out.

My hands were shaking as I kept it pressed against his temple. The gun was like a key to my shackles and I had it.

His chocolate eyes stared into mine. He didn't look scared or mad, he didn't look anything. If anything he looked like he knew he deserved this. No, Cartman never had regrets. He had done everything before now full aware of the consequences.

I put my finger on the trigger.

A/N: Short chapter was short. I was gonna make it a lot longer but I kind of liked ending it here on this note :D

Did anyone notice my little clue/reference?