The One Who Got Away

"Oh god, we're back here again. We can't get away from this place, can we?" Wheatley exclaimed.

Chell stood in the doorway, torn. She didn't want to go back. Caroline had probably been deleted by now, and She was definately going to kill them if She saw them. But it was the only way. The staircase had been blocked off , probably years ago and there was no way they could climb out the way they fell in. But the only other exit was through Her chamber. Chell looked at Wheatley questioningly for his opinion.

"Um... What does that look mean? You want food? No, no. Uh... You want to kill me? Oh, no no, please say no! Okay, good. You... you want to know something? Yes! I got it. Machiavelli," Wheatley praised himself. "So, what do you want to know. Whether we should go here or not? I'm guessing. Um, well, as you know, the only way out is through Her chamber. But we could try and do my old plan again and this time not go through the neurotoxin pipes, and this time actually shut Her down."

Chell looked at him doubtfully.

"Look, I know it didn't work last time, but I'll be honest- it's all we've got. At the moment. So, we could do that. Or, just sit here. Do nothing, probably starve to death. Unless you come up with a plan," Wheatley added seriously. Chell turned to Cara-Mia.

"It doesn't sound like a bad plan to me, but I don't know much about Aperture," Cara-Mia told Chell. "I just think, even if She doesn't see us, She might keep a closer eye on the neurotoxin and turret lines, or maybe have a back-up weapon after what happened last time."

"Mashy-Spike plates," Wheatley muttered guiltily. "I used - doesn't matter actually. Um... She might have them."

Chell nodded gravely. This trip was going to be a hard one.

"How about, we do my plan, and iron out the details later," Wheatley suggested hopefully. "I mean... uh- When I was in charge, I missed - um, you outrun the mashy-spike plates quite easily."

Despite Wheatley's pathetic ideas, Chell's confidence grew. She had overthrown GLaDOS twice, surely a third time should be easy enough. There were so many things that could go wrong, but it was all they had.

"Are we doing it then? Who's in?" Cara-Mia asked. "I am. It's the only way out."

Chell nodded in agreement.

"Let's go!" Wheatley replied excitedly. "Oh, I can't believe this. We're doing my plan again! And this time I promise, we will shut her down instead of... core transfer. And if we do have to do core transfer, this time I won't go m-" Wheatley stopped talking when he saw Chell's expression. "Sorry."

The two sisters, Wheatley in Chell's arms, stepped through the doorway, back into Aperture.

Suddenly, Cara-Mia gasped as she stumbled and nearly fell to the floor. Something clattered loudly and echoed off the slimy walls. Chell looked at her sister enquiringly, and Cara-Mia picked up an old empty can.

A certain someone had been here.

Chell's knees buckled as a chill shivered up her spine. An old, familiar fear pulsed through her veins as she scanned the panels for those sisister drawings, straining her eyes to see the mad writing scribbled across the walls. Sure enough, behind the mould, vague lines, splotched by the leaking water, criss-crossed the white panel like roots from a tree.

Tearing her eyes away from the drawing, she shook the thought out of her head and wandered on through the corridoor, the ominous feeling of being watched creeping through her body.

Cleaner, newer looking panels came into view, as if someone had wiped off the mould more recently. Shadowy sketches of glaring eyes watched them threateningly as they passed, and Chell's pace slowed down, her heart pounding in her ears.

When they came to a corner, a large canvas of the white wall stretched out in front of her, covered in scrawls and doodles; Chell gasped as she spotted red writing blaring angrily at her, spelling out her own name. Thick black brushstrokes sketched out a companion cube. Underneath the insane scribbles, Chell could make out a sketchy painting of the sky and a field of wheat. It looked as if the artist only had a rough idea of what a field of wheat looked like.

Shuddering, she stood back. Chell had seen these paintings before so many times, scars etched into the hidden, darker areas of Aperture. She reached out and touched the painting of the companion cube, thinking longingly of the one back in her car. Why hadn't she brought it along?

The dark paint oozed onto her hand.

Chell walked back in horror, staring at the wet paint on her fingers. It had been painted only moments ago.

That certain someone was here.

Cara-Mia and Wheatley didn't have to ask when they saw the wet paint gleaming on the wall. Hesitantly, they moved on towards the panel, the uncanny feeling of being watched building.

Suddenly, a loud clatter echoed through the dark hallway as Chell kicked another empty can. The three gasped and gave a sigh of relief, but remained frozen, as if scared to wake something that lay sleeping in the darkness...

As the women stood silently, straining their ears, Chell heard a mournful wailing-

"... it won't be enough..."

The three of them exchanged glances of terror. Were they about to meet the man who's words had haunted Chell's most disturbing nightmares?

A silent agreement passing between them, they rounded the corner, the feverish ranting growing louder -