Neglect surrounded the empty corridors, with remnants of rubble scattered all over. Moldy corners were embedded within the darkness, along with small, eerie shadows scampering about, shadows he couldn't even begin to describe. Lowly, yet deceitful echoes resounded from within the black, as the animals scurried here and there, trying to stay out of sight. Broken glass covered the vicinity of the ruined, marred floors, and along with it, a shattered elegance that came from so very long ago. Just in the distance, he could see broken stairwells, all attached to elegant, iron railings, the dust already settling onto them easily. Cobwebs descended from the once ornate designs, and when he looked down, he saw the ostentatious designs the rugs on the floor carried, along with the ruin the debris managed.

Crow came into the lobby, and gazed up at the high ceilings, the sheer gracelessness of it all embodied in his mind. He couldn't even begin to imagine what this place looked like before, the ruins of the Arcadia Movement seared into his brain. Akiza used to be here, right? He heard from Yusei about what'd happened, and Akiza did talk about it for a bit, so he, at the very least, knew what was going on, or had a vague idea of it. Since the topic was personal, he never pressed. However, he didn't actual think he'd be here; the very fact that the leader had been arrested was grounds for forgetting this place completely. And it was hard enough to sneak past security, what with them patrolling the construction sites. So why here? What'd this have to do with anything?

"Mr. Hogan."

Crow flinched.

There Belial was, standing near the balcony, one hand against the railing, the other holding a plain, manilla folder. He wore the same, dark outfit when they first met on the Daedalus Bridge, though a more pristine, sharper gleam embraced his corneas. The same red rose was latched onto his neck, and though the petals were starting to wilt, it was still just as haughty and irritating as Crow remembered it. The man had an almost jeering smile on his face, a frightening arrogance that not even Jack would turn away from. Crow mentally fumbled with his words, before finally remembering why he was actually here.

Quickly, he eased his fears, and regarded Belial with even eyes. Whatever hesitation he had in his system evaporated, as he unwaveringly, he placed one hand on his hip, and gave the strange man a wary frown. "I came."

"I can see that," Belial replied, as he stepped away from the railings. Slowly, he descended down the stairs, the large, gradual echoes of his shoes grinding against Crow's ears. "Where's Mr. Atlas?"

Crow bit the inside of his cheek. "Busy."

"Funny," Belial continued, as he waved the manilla folder in front of Crow. "I figured he'd be more concerned, considering your histories and everything."

Crow clenched his fists. After he and Jack met with Belial, Jack decided the guy was an idiot, a pompous lunatic who had broken out of some nuthouse. Or, better yet, he was probably just another fanboy out to steal Yusei's title; as a result, the blonde decided not to pay any attention to him. He suggested that Crow do the same, and whenever Crow tried bringing up the subject again, Jack dismissed him. There was no way Yusei could've been there, he reasoned. After all, he was injured, wasn't he? And the way he walked past those kids…it must've been photoshopped. The reports say there weren't a lot of casualties, none of whom had involved children. "A trap," he stated confidently, before dragging Crow along and going back to the garage, only for the same suspicions to bombard them both over and over again.

Crow wanted to believe in Yusei, and, for once, take Jack seriously. But all the same, he couldn't get that haunting image out of his head. He couldn't wrap his brain around something as horrific as that, no matter how hard he tried.

What made the situation even more urgent as is, was when those two stopped by, just the other day. Those two were Yusei's friends, Crow imagined, but to him, they were still disturbing nonetheless. And the way Yusei had been acting, it didn't seem like he was bothered by them; in fact he welcomed.

Crow couldn't grasp it. The way that girl smiled, the glassy, dead look in her eyes; it reminded him of Kalin, of Goodwin, of all the Dark Signers he'd ever fought, and it terrified him. He felt a dark chill radiating from her, an inhuman aura that made his skin crawl, that made his instincts demand that he run away, as far away as he could. It was the same thing with the boy too. And just beneath his clothes, he could even feel his mark burning.

But even then, Yusei still decided to go with them.

Why?

As far as he knew, Yusei's going to that horror festival, so he won't be back for a while. He did ask Crow if he wanted to come, but Crow said he planned on working another shift, though that wasn't a guarantee. Well, at least he won't suspect anything. As for Jack, Crow waited until he fell asleep, and after calling his boss, just to make sure his story was straight, Crow took a deep breath, and left for the old Arcadia building.

"So," Belial began, reaching the last step. He stopped a few yards in front of Crow, with a coy light tugging at his expression. "What'd you want to know?"

Crow narrowed his eyes. "Don't play dumb. What does Yusei have to do with those hijackers? And the coven? The hell does that mean?"

"All in good time. But first, I'd rather you tell me what you do know, about any of this."

Crow bit the inside of his cheek. "Fallen, right?"

"Smart boy."

He clenched his fists. "And that's another thing; I can't find your group on any database. What's your story? Why should I believe you?"

Belial eased himself with a tiny smile. "Right to the point."

Crow forced himself to calm down, the urge to strangle the man already tempting enough as is. "Start talking," he said in a hard voice, taking one step forward.

"Now, now, no need to get so impatient," Belial replied, as both arms fell to his side. "You'll learn about everything tonight. First, I want you to come with me."

"What?"

"You do want to know what's been going on, don't you?" he taunted. "If you want to help Yusei, then this is the only way to do it."

Crow furrowed his eyebrows. "What's he gotten himself involved with anyways? If this is about the Fortune Cup-"

"I assure you, that has nothing to do with that," Belial answered, as he began leading Crow deeper into the building. "No, on second thought, I take that back." As he walked, he raised his arm coyly, the same, manilla folder in hand. "It has something to do with your marks, really."

"How'd you-?"

"I told you before, haven't I?"

Akiza grunted painfully, as she stumbled into Yusei's arms. A spark of confusion briefly flickered onto her face, before she shoved it aside, and peered through her bangs. She clenched her teeth, before spinning around, as one by one, the men came pouring inside. Black roses gazed back at her, the edge of their petals barely reaching the tips of their rifles. From the corner of her eyes, she could make out their positions, as they flooded the ballroom, blocking the doors, the stairwells, the balconies, anywhere at all that could've possibly helped the hostages escape. As they did, she could make out the hopelessness in the festival-goers', the desperation slowly dissipating.

When the chaos died down, the rampages ceasing, everyone just stood there, frozen in fear. Though some were defiant, a tense silence settled into the room. She could even feel Yusei tightening his grip around her, as he stared the men warily. She examined him for a bit, then turned back to the men; apparently, he had no idea this would happen either. A sharp pang bombarded her skull, and though she winced, Akiza never made a single sound.

The men simply stood by, as one by one, they came into the room. No doubt someone had already called the police, and with everything that's happened, it seems this will blow up in the headlines. But even then, the hijackers gathered all the hostages nearby, rounding them into a large circle in the center of the ballroom, with she and Yusei hidden in the middle.

"Come on!" one of the men screamed. "We haven't gotten all day!"

Akiza searched the ground for something, anything, that resembled a duel disk and a few cards. Despite her best efforts, even that, it seems, turned up empty. "Yusei," she whispered.

"I don't have mine either."

Well, now what?

She scrutinized the men, as well as the entirety of the ballroom. Surrounded, with nothing but windows to see in through the inside; if the men managed to get in here, there was a good chance they might've also gotten into the security room. And if that was the case, then there were practically no blind spots to hide under. Then of course, that was a really big "if."

They all had their guns directed towards the hostages, with a fearful, meticulous gleam in their eyes. They weren't smiling, nor were they very eager to face whatever consequences would result from this. But either way, it appears they all have a clear objective in mind, and from the looks of things, it wasn't to show off. And as she traced their roses with the lines of her eyes, she couldn't help but wander back to the mall hijacking, that fateful day, when she heard civilians calling the group "terrorists", "vigilantes", "murderers" even. It was then she shook her head.

No, this group was different.

A man stepped forward, someone around Trudge's age. He wasn't like the other men, deathly pale, with dark, ghostly shadows beneath his eyes. Rather, he looked normal, just like any other person off the streets. Caramel bangs swept across his eyes, his tan skin retaining some of the sunlight that was lost within the fray. A black, v-necked shirt hugged his torso, and with it, tight, worn out blue jeans, and sandals. An easy look swept across his face, something that irritated Akiza so very much; in fact, rather than a hostage crisis, he looked as if he were just going to a faraway beach. He raised his right hand, and automatically, the men lowered their guns.

When he was sure everyone's eyes was focused on him, he simply shrugged his shoulders. "Aw, c'mon, don't look at me like that. You'll make me blush."

Akiza scoffed, before turning away. Over Yusei's shoulder, she could see some other men swarming the scenes outside, trying to draw as much attention as possible. Already spectators were gathering, though as of this point, they didn't know whether or not the display was real, or just some sick prank a couple of horror fans were pulling. But all the same, more and more people were coming, some amused, others annoyed.

Crap.

The man turned sideways then, his orbs flickering briefly at Akiza, before sighing. "You know, you really shouldn't look away," he muttered.

A gunshot.

And a few seconds later, everyone was scrambling outside, trying to get away.

But even from here, she could see the mother, bleeding on the ground, with two, young kids, endeavoring to drag her away from the danger.

All the while, being trampled to the ground by callous bystanders.

Most of the hostages began clutching one another, the fear deeply entrenched on their faces. Some bit their lips, with clenched fists, as they stepped forward, trying to, at the very least, incite some remorse within their captors. Others could only shake their heads painfully, as they turned their faces away, knowing full well the victim didn't have much longer. And even still, some just stood there, mute, still stunned by the whole incident, by the fact that this was really happening, that this wasn't even a game.

Akiza turned her gaze to the ground. There was no use talking, if they were just going to fire away at the innocent. And judging from the man's easiness, either he was a really good actor, or just incredibly experienced, and already the "actor" part was fading away. His entire smile reminded Akiza of a coldhearted, mysterious sociopath, with little to no moral reasoning as to why he was doing this, what pleasure he was gaining from this.

She narrowed her eyes. But even then there was some clear objective here, a strategic goal that only he could know. Some of the festival-goers managed to get away, and the men never even chased after them. And rather than crimson, the roses were black this time, unlike their foppish comrades. From the corner of her eyes, she made out the roses on the visitors, before she turned back.

She could very well recall the chessboard that young girl showed off before, the defensiveness of her own actions when she told Akiza that she could easily track the pieces using their positions. Well, not a lot of good that'd do her; as of this point, all of Akiza's pieces were frozen, though there were a few hostages who were more than ready to pick a fight. At the same time, she didn't want anyone here involved, and what with the police coming in, things were bound to get more than just a little messy.

Still, the fact that Yusei was here with her was a bit comforting. Even now, he was calm, his own eyes analyzing the situation. A hint of frustration was splayed on his face, but other than that, he was emotionless. He already knew how dire the predicament was; she didn't need to explain it to him. And what of the other hostages? How would they be able to handle things?

Out of the question, she realized.

"Now that I have your attention," the man gripped, as he swirled back to his frightened crowd. That same, irritating smile danced on his lips, as he chuckled to the tunes of the hostages' terror. "I'm Sam. As in, the 'son of Sam'."

What the…?

"You're all horror fans, right? Get it? My name's Sam? 'Son of Sam'?"

"Idiot," Yusei murmured from beneath his breath.

Cold water ran down her face, as she tried getting a hold of herself. She gripped the sides of the sink anxiously, all the while shaking her head, attempting to sort out the situation in her head. She bit her lip, so much so she could taste blood coming from it. The distant sounds of running water reached her ears, but even then it wasn't enough to shock her out of the very fact that he was there, with her.

Ophelia kept replaying that horrible scene in her head over and over again. He was there, right behind her, with that stupid frown on his face. She could see his disappointed scowl over that woman's shoulder, at the very prospect of Ophelia being there, ready to strike. She fought down a tremble, though she almost burst into tears right then and there.

She wanted to explain herself, as to why she was there, what she was doing. She wanted him to know that she, his loyal, faithful knight, wasn't there for him, only for the whore. She wanted so badly to tell him, no matter what the cost, no matter what trouble she'd gotten herself into, though even then, he might not have believed her. But even so, she wanted him to understand, even now, with everything that's happened. At the very least, he deserved that much, before Sam got to him.

Still, why was he even there? Salem said the Black Rose wouldn't be anywhere near the festival today. At least, that's what he heard from the Queens. And what about Sam? How'd he even know the witch was going to be there, considering Salem himself had no idea about the problem. He wasn't the type to just lie to everyone like that; after all, he was the gamekeeper. So how?

How?

She closed her eyes, and turned off the faucet. With one, fluid motion, she wiped the water from her eyes, as her own trembling quickly vanished from her.

Either way, he's here, her beloved. Sam's got him and that whore downstairs, and since he doesn't even know that Ophelia's here, it's going to be even harder to separate the two. Initially, Ophelia was going to get the whore alone, in the bathroom somewhere, and drown her, though as of this point, she didn't think that was an option now.

Unless, of course, she did something to kill Sam.

Honestly, to think that man had the gaul to disobey her beloved like that. What'd he say anyways? Not to get the innocent involved? Well, what exactly was he doing? What was he hoping to accomplish, by outright killing that mother? Did he have some stupid philosophy running around in his head? Was he going off of some idiotic notion, that everything was sinful, that every human being on this earth had to die, since they themselves were cruel to their own kind?

She could hear the witch's laughter now.

But at any rate, it seems she was going to have to switch. There's no way she can hide now, since her beloved had already seen her, as that whore. She was just going to have to separate them in the fray, that's all. Yeah, that should work, shouldn't it? She was his knight after all, and she wasn't going to let anyone deter her from removing that woman from his side.

And besides, who knows? Maybe after all this is done, he might cancel the game. It'd take him some time to get over that whore's death, but he'll know that it was all for him. He'll know; he'll have to.