Her mind felt like a dystopian nightmare. One that seemed to echo throughout the chambers of her thoughts, reverberating in the subconscious, trapped beneath fear and a sense of unknowingness. There was no reason for anything to appear, acting as if it all made sense. A deep feeling of dread with an ounce of confusion. Max laid asleep on the downstairs couch, immersed inside of a dream that seemed far from reality. A little too far, actually. Her breath was heavy and rapid, chest feeling so tight it might as well have bursted.

She had only been asleep for a few hours, a time that she was planning to be a restful night before yet another day to take on. Max was confident in the idea that everything was slowly becoming normal, despite the lingering drama from the darkroom, and that eventually life would be mundane again. She was planning on working at the diner once more with Chloe and Rachel the following week. Maybe even talk to David about the student files and find out if he knew about anything else that was going on behind the scenes. Because that, out of all that happened that day, was the most concerning.

Earlier in the night Max had been watching the news in private, a local one from Portland, and it was broadcasting to the public about Sean and Nathan Prescott ditching town for some odd, mysterious reason. It haunted her like a nightmare, one she couldn't wake up from no matter how many times she pinched herself. The fact itself was disturbing enough, but there just wasn't enough information to determine if she was indeed going to be in potential danger, or if it was all just a red herring meant to distract from something much more sinister.

Max was starting to twitch, her arms firmly gripping the seams of the couch…then her legs. Coiled together like a twisted wire, she lay on the couch dripping in a cold sweat. Her breath became erratic. She was panting and mumbling incoherent words. There was a brief moment as she rested in limbo between the peaceful slumber and the haunting reality of the hidden realm of her mind, blurring the lines of the two worlds she had no control over. Her mind was manifesting something larger than life. She could feel the energy surging in her body, but no matter what she did she couldn't wake up. Max felt trapped in her body in a way that begged for a release that wasn't going to come. There was a message. A deeper meaning that she had to figure out before it was too late. Plunging deep into the waves of her subconscious, a scene of an ocean appeared, one that was all too familiar.

A mixture of waves crashing onto a shore and wind blowing through nearby trees. A sudden flurry of water circling around Max in a movement similar to that of a tornado. She wasn't on land, that was for sure. If anything, it looked like she had a bird's eye view from above, watching the world beneath her not just as a spectator, but as the entity making it happen in the first place. Hovering above land and sea, Max could see it all, everything the world had to offer from such a perspective that made her feel powerful. She didn't feel scared, if anything she felt omnipotent.

A power ran through her, her own power, this kind of magnetic force that bound the elements of nature together into a storm of ultimate betrayal. There was a war raging, one she couldn't physically see but could sense. It wasn't between groups of people, but entities far greater than anything she had ever known. A large bird. A whale. They both seemed like familiar spirits, a presence that felt like an innate part of Max's being, but at the same time she was unsure of their intent.

Suddenly, a flash of green emitted from the center of where Max was in the sky. Gray clouds and twisting white ribbons of water wrapped around her. A crash of thunder followed. She couldn't speak, nor hear anything other than the ear-piercing turbulent winds forcing its way through the surrounding area. This all felt incredibly strange, like it was trying to say something in a language she couldn't speak. Max had been here before, maybe not in the storm itself, but this was too recognizable in a distinctive paradoxical way. A convoluted twister of mayhem with a sense of self so great she could end the world in a snap of her fingers.

There was no one else around. No Chloe. No Rachel. And oddly enough, no Arcadia Bay. Just the vast ocean stretched out below her, spanning miles upon miles into the distance.

Although, something wasn't right.

"The storm." Max jolted awake, breath heaving for air. "It's going to happen."

It was her best interpretation of the scene that played in her head, but even after being awake for only a few moments made it not seem so daunting. It was like reality was diluting the intensity of anything she saw or felt, grounding her in the present moment. The dream she had wasn't like a usual nightmare. It wasn't necessarily a vision either, as those usually followed a nosebleed. Truthfully, she didn't know what it was.

Max's biggest fear, aside from either Chloe or Rachel getting hurt–or worse–was the storm happening again. That was evident enough during the conversation in the backroom of the diner, where the environment was potent enough to bring back memories so real she could practically hear the voices of the public running for their lives. The entire time working the shift was difficult enough, trying to push back against a reality that wasn't actively happening in front of her. No one was hurt, no one was crying, and most importantly, no one was dead.

Max had avoided the storm the first time by time traveling through the picture she took in the bathroom, letting Chloe succumb to her supposed fate. But this time, she had to make that same choice, now an inevitability as opposed to some far away thought, that felt impossible to make. She wasn't completely sold on the idea, but without anything else to go off of Max had no other choice but to believe that the storm was going to happen yet again.

Why did everything have to be placed on her? Was this just the universe's way of making her pay for leaving Chloe for Seattle for five years?

There wasn't a moment of rest, solitude, or normalcy since Max had arrived back in Arcadia Bay to fix the mistakes she made previously. It was ridiculous for her to even think that to begin with. Not a second of calmness. It was like a circle of karma that kept coming back every time she chose to do something. A soul-connected payback for reasons still unknown.

A sharp creak of something off in the distance instantly startled Max, almost making her fall off the side of the couch as she was still thinking deeply about the meaning of her dream. Her heart was racing once more, eyes darting across the dark interior of an otherwise safe environment. The feeling in the air wasn't like it usually was. It wasn't the comfort of a previously homey ambience, or even the tumultuous dinner conversation. The air was strange. Stranger than what she was used to.

Flying inside the cracked open screen door that Chloe had forgotten to shut all the way earlier, was a small blue butterfly.

When a window closes, a door opens…or something like that.

It flew throughout the house peacefully, like it had no idea what it had interrupted. Going in and out of rooms and into the hallway, then making its way back to where Max was sitting. She didn't move an inch, feeling like if she did, she would make the butterfly scared and force it to leave. It brought a feeling with it, one that was unusual but powerful. A familiarity that was deeper than the mere fact that she had seen it before. Max watched it with such an intensity, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was the exact same butterfly from her visions. The same one that she saw in the bathroom back in October.

Her stomach by this point had dropped to the floor, alongside the rest of her body. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was just supposed to stay imaginary, lost inside of a state of consciousness not able to be accessed unless done for a reason outside of Max's control.

The butterfly had landed on one of the dining room chairs, waiting. Its blue wings fluttered back and forth slowly taking its time. It was acting uncharacteristic to typical insects, not seeming to care about flying around the house and trying to avoid being hit by a fly swatter. The way the butterfly was quietly resting on the wooden chair was causing Max to feel overly curious, but hesitant. She slowly stood up from the couch and step by step made her way over, before at the last moment it flew off towards the front door.

What the hell is going on?

Creeping through the downstairs, careful not to crash into anything or make any sudden loud noises that would disrupt the entire house, Max followed the butterfly through the kitchen. Her hands maneuvered their way across the countertop feeling each and every divot. Her eyes were still adjusting; a sort of tv static filled her vision.

2:08 am. That's what the time read on the microwave screen that shone dimly throughout the dark kitchen. It had only been a mere four hours that Max had been asleep for, as she had called it a night early when she was previously helping Rachel with finding the file David made on her. She did remember feeling unusually tired, though, as she went straight to bed like she had no other choice. A calling, maybe. However, the more she thought about it all, the more she couldn't deny the connection to some otherworldly dimension she seemed to have in relation to her time traveling powers. It was all too real.

The butterfly continued to stay by the entryway, not going out of Max's sight for a moment. There was something different about it, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was so eerily resemblant to the one she had now assumed was some version of Chloe from her previous visions, that the whole thing was putting her on edge. Nothing about it made any sense, especially because of the timing of it. There had to be a connection to it and her bizarre dream, but she didn't know what yet. As Max got closer to the front door, she reached out to the butterfly to try to get it to land on her hand.

"You seem familiar…" She smiled to herself as it flew around her, making rounds around her head, followed by her entire body. A rhythmic motion in a beautiful dance of connection.

The butterfly was nudging Max to open the front door, because something about the way it was acting in combination with its unwavering attention to this side of the house brought Max to assume that it was leading her to go outside. The butterfly was taking her somewhere intentional. As the front door was being opened, Max stepped out onto the first step, looking out across the darkened streets. The butterfly immediately followed, waiting in the space in front of her, not flying off into the open sky like she had expected.

Max was still dressed in her everyday clothes, too tired previously to change into anything else. She was still embarrassed to have gone to the police station wearing her pajamas; she wouldn't make that mistake again. With her phone in her pocket, alongside shoes slipped on and a light jacket taken from one of the hooks by the door, she made her way into the street, letting the butterfly lead her to an unknown destination. A drizzle was making its way down from the heavy clouds above. A stillness to the night took hold of the environment.

The water on the pavement splashed beneath Max's feet, while the warm glow of the street lamps lit up the area in a way that didn't feel scary. Despite all of the drama that had happened in Arcadia Bay the past couple of months, Max didn't feel uncomfortable leaving alone in the middle of the night, going on an adventure no one else knew about. It felt intriguing, with a sense of feeling homebound for too long as well. Usually, she would have thought that it would have been the worst idea imaginable for a young girl, who is now a nationally known name from the court trial, to be going anywhere else by herself to a place she had no clue where she was headed, but something was unusually different. Unlike Rachel who had literally vowed in front of Max and Chloe that she wasn't going anywhere during the time she had spent over, Max didn't necessarily feel that way back. There was nothing for her to prove, nothing to commit to. The world was an open book, left with blank pages Max would have to write in by hand. Whether or not there was a deeper meaning to this night was still a mystery, but it all seemed too intentional for it to be a tired mistake, made hastily out of boredom.

There was a signature summer night feeling in the air, a slight coolness from the rainstorm mere hours ago now seeming to appear once more. A misty fog covered the distance ahead. Max was being led up the hill to Blackwell Academy as the blue butterfly continued to guide her without wavering. The little flashlight on her phone provided a much needed light to see anything in front of her, with the cracked pavement and construction-ridden streets making it far more difficult to navigate. Off in the distance, a few porch lights were glowing in the mist. Orange and teal in contradiction to the green air. Max was incredibly alone, desperately holding on to the hope of a butterfly that gave no introduction. This was so unlike her; something that even if she was feeling particularly brave that night, was still brewing a fear deep inside her that was palpable. She hoped her thoughts were enough communication, a mind-connected small talk to fill the silence of the entire trek, but it still felt slightly uncomfortable.

As soon as she reached the top of the hill, she paused to look out into the empty front lawn of the campus. A few lights were turned on outside, but unless there was summer school, the place was completely barren. Yet at the same time, Max could almost feel life coming back in ways she couldn't even describe, like a weird sense of nostalgia mixed in with memories only she had. Students outside; teachers wandering around before class. By this point the butterfly that had so graciously led the entire way through the town had gone out of sight in a whole other direction, leaving Max to herself. If this was where she was being taken, it was a strange place to be as there wasn't anything there other than lonesome benches and freshly cut grass. Moths flew around the lamp posts, clinging to the last bit of light left of the night. Crickets filled the air in a calming way.

Max stood there silently, taking in the ambience of the vacant school yard. The only other time that she was here was when she had received a creepy phone call over a month ago, with no connection to anything else. She never got another one, as she assumed it was probably a dumb prank or something, but being left stranded alone in a place that harbored a lot of mixed feelings was unsettling.

A rustle came from a bush nearby. Max could have sworn someone was behind her; a growing sense of dread appeared in her chest. It didn't matter where she looked, no one was there. Left, right, then left again. She could have sworn some footprints on the ground weren't there a second ago. Max was steadily growing concerned, especially since the only guide she had, had disappeared. Another crackle of branches, followed by clomping boots running up behind her.

"BOO-YAH!" Chloe seemed to come out of nowhere, grabbing onto Max's shoulders to scare her from behind.

Max screamed loudly, her heart racing a mile a minute to such an extent that she was starting to feel lightheaded. She squinted intently at Chloe, eyes desperately fixated on her like a buoy in the middle of an ocean. She couldn't quite tell if it was all a mirage, or if she was being saved from whatever fucked up dream she was living in. A mixture of disbelief and confusion arose in Max. There was no way Chloe followed her all the way here. It was so unexpected.

"Chloe?" Max's voice shook, still visibly shaken up.

"Get it, BOO-yah?" Chloe just smiled back, not appearing too bothered by the whole situation. "Like I'm a scary punk ghost."

Something about this encounter wasn't right. An unfounded uneasiness was creeping from the shadows. Where did the butterfly go? Why here? Why now?

"What are you doing here?"

"Come on," Chloe patted Max's back in a way that burned, sending a wave of tension through her entire body. A cold shiver traveled down her spine. She didn't want to feel that way, especially with Chloe, but no matter how hard she tried to push the feeling away it only came back stronger. Chloe clearly had something planned that was never discussed previously.

"...We have the whole night to ourselves, right? Let's explore a bit."

Max frowned heavily with concern. "This is really freaky, Chloe. I thought you were at your house."

Anything that Max said wasn't heard or cared about, as Chloe was already making her way down the sidewalk, looking like she was headed to the swimming pool on campus. Or maybe just to the parking lot. They were both in that direction, anyways. A little set of keys clipped to a carabiner twirled around in Chloe's hand as Max was following behind her, trying to keep up. The metal jingle carried throughout the dark campus.

"How'd you get those?" Max briskly made her way next to Chloe, finally being able to match her pace. But it was still proving to be difficult. She was on a mission and nothing was going to stop her. Although, she was walking so fast that Max was beginning to get out of breath. She reached over to grab Chloe's arm in an effort to slow her down for a moment.

Chloe abruptly stopped, turning and looking at Max in such a way that almost made her choke on her breath. It was a different side of her that Max had only seen in October; a side that never seemed to show up as long as she had saved Rachel and kept her alive. On one hand, it was making Max feel nervous for reasons not just because of cheating and Rachel probably having no idea what was going on, but the potential for something much bigger. On the other hand, whatever was going on was tempting despite the large consequences. Max could've sworn that it suddenly got hot outside. Her face felt like it was burning.

"Alright, I dare you to not ask another question again for the rest of the night…" Chloe reached over and grabbed Max's right hand, clutching it tight before letting it go. She wore a mischievous grin on her face, leaning dangerously close. "...or else I'm throwing you in the pool."

Max's eyes widened in protest. "Oh, that's so not fair."

"Then you better follow me, Max." Chloe grinned before starting to walk off, leaving Max behind for her to catch up. She raised her left arm in the air, gesturing to the large building directly in front of her that housed the swimming pool. "I've got some things planned."

She stated it plainly, but it was enough to cause a generous amount of curiosity. Regardless, this night was looking dark and stormy for reasons outside of the current weather.


The abandoned parking lot just outside of Arcadia Bay exuded a mysterious aura, one that only seemed to be amplified by the gloomy weather and dark night sky. The outcast area wasn't the only place falling victim to the unsettling atmosphere that felt like it was shrouding the entire town as of lately. The public wasn't very talkative about any of the recent news about the Prescotts, leaving their concerns to whispers and not daring to speak aloud whatever they assumed was going on. It was like an inside secret that at the same time, the entire state and nation was beginning to find out about. The only individuals who had any idea what was occurring behind the scenes were paid off under means that weren't just large amounts of money. There was more on the line for the prestigious family than they had ever wanted.

Parked in the middle of the desolate lot, not anywhere in particular just in between a few faded yellow lines, was a shiny red truck. A weather-stripped license plate reading 'SXFTNDR' bolted on the back. A sleek exterior in stark contrast to the surrounding gloom. The driver's side door was wide open, allowing the interior lights to glow through the window. A much needed warmth to the chilly air. The truck itself sat motionless; its engine letting out a low rumble.

Nothing was easy anymore, not that it ever was from the start, when you were the son of a Prescott. The constant weight of obligation and living up to unreasonable expectations, combined with being a wanted criminal wasn't a very relaxed experience. It was dodging familiarity for secrecy at its very core.

Nathan Prescott was on the phone, anxiously walking back and forth. He didn't sign up for any of this. It was just supposed to be a learning opportunity, a chance to work with a prestigious photographer to make his father happy. An excuse for success. But it was anything but that.

His cheap poncho bought at the back of a liquor store, alongside some other items that were deemed necessary by his father, was swishing every time he took a step. The air was thick with an underlying tension. The bed of the truck reeked of spilled gasoline; a fire hazard if left provoked.

"I'll be there in an hour, alright?" Nathan frantically scanned the surrounding area to make sure no one was nearby. His movements were erratic, sometimes bearing on insane. It was like every breath of wind that rustled the tree branches, to the sound of the rain pattering down, seemed to taunt him even more so. "I don't know why you keep pulling me into your shit."

Sean Prescott's deep laugh carried across the phone. It was never genuine, always laced with a dark undertone that meant more than any words he would say.

"Nathan, you will do as I instruct you to do, or the entire family is going up in flames."

What if Nathan dared to disobey his father? The thought was appealing, so much so that after tonight, he was planning on being done with everything that was going on. He was growing tired of the demands, the relentless pressure to succeed in anything that he did.

Nathan leaned back on the side of the truck, taking in the rare moment Sean actually seemed to shut up for once. A lackluster threat he knew he could probably avoid, but it still was a risk. The rain was forming a small puddle beneath the back tire. In the darkness of the desolate parking lot that lay in front of him, truthfully the only danger that existed was coming from the other side of the phone. He did understand that if he didn't finish the job tonight, the entire family business would be over. That was drilled in his head far too many times to count, and with the chance at normalcy again, it was too great to say no to.

"You will keep your mouth shut," Sean's voice, when it arrived again, carried a hint of sensitivity mingled with bitterness. A bizarre combination that only he could achieve. "Or I will take you right back to the county jail."

"You wouldn't." Nathan hissed.

An unspoken favor done under the table. While it was appreciated, it felt like a trap. Nathan was never truly free from the consequences to his actions or from anyone in his family.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Slow and methodical, Sean drew out each word in a way that was razor sharp. The phone call abruptly ended, as Nathan began to run his hands through his hair in frustration. He knew the immense amount of power his father held, and especially what kind of punishment he would endure if he screwed up the plan for tonight. The phone was tightly gripped in his hand as Nathan kicked the tire next to him, wincing at the pain. The poncho was becoming hot; rain dampened the blow but only added to the misery. His anger had reached a boiling point, with a raw scream tearing out from Nathan's throat, so loud and painful that he bent over in agony. The storm inside of him was like a mirror, pointing to the inner contradiction of what he felt being a member of the Prescott family. Small raindrops cascaded down his face, blending with the tears and blood soaked ground beneath him. Nathan's poncho swished as he paced around the bed of the truck unsure of what to do. The clock was slowly ticking, but he was avoiding it.

The power Sean Prescott had over not just Nathan, but the entire town was frightening. Even if Nathan wasn't currently in jail, being a Prescott was just as close. The metaphorical chains were tightly bound around his wrists.

After his bout of rage, Nathan's hands were shaking as he began to text the only person he felt he could at a time like this. Words becoming jumbled…no, backspace and delete. Start again. His mind was on a million different things, filled with desperation and turmoil.

Nathan: are you busy right now

It was the only simple message he could come up with. The time was nearly three in the morning, but hopefully he wasn't the only one awake. Nathan tapped the screen impatiently. Tap. Tap.

Without warning, three little dots appeared, breaking the silence.

Victoria: What the hell do you think?

A sharp tone, but typical.

Nathan: see u at 5

Victoria: Nathan what's going on? You are acting CRAZY right now

Nathan: daddy issues again

He smirked, but knew it was too true to even joke about.

Victoria: Well why don't you tell him to shove it up his ass

Nathan: Can't. I'm in too deep this time

Victoria had probably said something back, something that implied that she wasn't taking any of it too seriously, but it didn't matter. Nathan was too busy, harshly getting back in his truck and slammed the door upon entry, making his way to the plan his father insisted on him doing because 'there was no other choice'. The entire family legacy was on the line, even if he didn't agree to it.


A loud click of a lock echoed through the empty corridor, followed by a heavy door opening. Chloe had led Max through the girls locker room, footsteps reverberating on each stride of the dimly lit space, into the main room where the large pool was. There was an overwhelming smell of chlorine; the scent was already becoming infused into the environment. The vast stretch of the pool laid out before them, with the clear water shining under the blue bulbs lit from the side walls. The glow of the lights casted a hue on the entire room that made it strangely eerie, but at the same time inviting. While it was starkly similar to an experience Max had before, something about it was different. It almost appeared to be planned as there were a couple of large pool floats scattered around the pool, waiting to be sat in. Two blue-striped lounge styled ones. The speakers overhead, used by the Vortex Club and their parties, was playing some music Max couldn't recognize. More melodic, slowed tempo beats as opposed to the oppressive rave-esque music that usually blasted. It was like their own private party now.

Chloe crouched down at the edge of the pool to stick her hand in the water, testing the temperature with a grin slowly appearing on her face. It was perfectly heated. The reflection from the ripples of water danced across her face. Max, on the other hand, hung back at a rather cautious distance, trying to judge the situation before jumping in. She started to chew her lip in nervousness.

"We're so getting in trouble, Chloe." Max fretted, her voice mirroring the internal battle between becoming overly stressed out, or simply the anticipation of this night with just her and Chloe.

Chloe simply shrugged, waving off Max's genuine concerns.

"No one is here anyways," She turned around at the last second before beginning to take off her shirt. "But that doesn't sound like the Max Caulfield I know…" She playfully winked, now unzipping her pants before making a final break at jumping into the open seas. A loud splash from the cannonball made waves in the pool. "It's just to get your mind off of all the shit that's been happening lately. Come on, Max, jump in."

Max's gaze darted between Chloe, who was so patiently waiting treading water, and the lonely open pool. She felt torn, because frankly, it felt rather awkward for Chloe to do all of this without Rachel being there. That wasn't to say that she couldn't spend any alone time with Chloe, because Max knew that none of them needed some kind of guardian to watch over and make sure nothing happened. That was a bit much and excessively controlling. But the reality was that it was really weird.

Despite the gnawing feelings eating away in the pit of her stomach, a faint smile played at the corners of Max's lips as she watched the entire moment unfold before her eyes. Chloe, the one person that wasn't just her best friend that had gone through so much with her, but alive and seemingly happy, was right in front of her, begging for attention. After weeks of feeling like the odd one out, not really wanted but felt like she needed to be around, it felt like all of those doubts were thrown out the window. Throughout everything that night, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity that Chloe's presence brought, one that Max yearned for, for a very long time. It was helping her forget about everything else that was stressing her out, which was the relief she so desperately needed.

Max began to undress before making a leap of faith into the pool water, leaving a lasting splash on the impact. The nearby pool floats shifted from the current.

The two were silent for a while, taking in the quiet atmosphere and calming music playing in the background like they were in some kind of movie. A narration of the lives of two people bonded by the fate of time itself. Max thought she could stay in that moment forever. The more she laid back, letting the water carry her to the unknown, the more she felt herself let go. A freeing motion. An escape from her innermost thoughts.

Her eyes were closed, feeling so relaxed she might as well fall asleep. She needed it, too. Badly. In the not too far distance, she could hear the squeaking plastic of the pool float making such an annoying noise that she cracked open one eye only to notice Chloe climbing onto it. Max tried to hold back from laughing at the scene, because she knew that Chloe didn't think anyone was watching her, but it was rather entertaining. After a struggle and a few curses shared, Chloe settled back into the lounge float, relaxing with a pleased look on her face. Max sat up and began to make her way over to the other float that was close by.

"Okay, did you seriously set all of this up?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "So many questions!" She splashed some water onto Max with her hand, "Damn, Max, I can't keep any secrets around you."

"Sorry," Max just laughed, dodging the water attacks and striking back with a vengeance. She knew this game well. "Just curious."

Chloe stretched out, making the float wobble in such a way that it looked like she was going to fall off of it. She caught herself at the last minute, sharing a laugh with Max across the water.

"Maybe I did, or maybe these were just in here. I guess we'll never know." She winked back.

Their laughter filled the air as they both continued to splash water at each other for some time. Everything seemed to fade away. Every worry, every stressor about earlier, or even the past couple of months. It was all gone. Max felt free. There was no reason for her to even think about the storm potentially happening, let alone her powers, because it didn't seem to matter now.

"I'll admit, this is pretty fun."

Chloe splashed another large portion of water onto Max, but ended up falling into the water this time, drenching herself. She reached over and pulled Max into the depths of the water with her, play fighting until they both got so close, Max could've sworn something was going to happen. Chloe softened her laugh, her former playful demeanor shifting to be more vulnerable, as she leaned in closer to meet Max in a kiss that made her back away at the last second.

"Chloe…what are you doing…" Max whispered, feeling extremely caught off guard. Her mind was racing with emotions, ones she didn't want to face at the moment. Her eyes searched Chloe's for some kind of response. But there wasn't any. Her lack of answers was worrying.

Chloe reached over to brush some of the wet hair off of Max's face; a gesture so delicate she would have melted right there, blending into the water for eternity. Chloe went in again for a second time without warning, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that desperately tried to express repressed feelings and unspoken words that truthfully lingered between them for so long in another lifetime. Life seemed to stop, with a warmth appearing in Max's body. She was becoming trapped in the feeling, losing herself, before warning bells went off in her consciousness, forcing her to pull away again. She leaned back against the pool wall, catching her breath and beginning to feel sick at the same time. It felt so wrong and so right. A horrendous blend of emotions that wasn't appropriate for this current timeline.

Chloe didn't seem to notice Max's sudden change in behavior, still acting as affectionate as ever. As much as Max wanted it, she couldn't. Someone else needed Chloe just as much as she did.

"What about Rachel…" She said quietly, hesitancy creeping up at each word.

Chloe's smile immediately faltered, confusion quickly growing on her face. It was like a switch had flipped.

"Rachel?" She moved to Max's side, leaning back on the side of the pool with her. "Max…she's dead , remember? We found her body at the junkyard." Chloe almost looked like she was about to cry.

Max's heart sank, mind clinging on to any hope that this was all some kind of joke.

"No, she's not." She nervously laughed, now feeling like the water was piercing hot, burning her from the inside out. "She's at your house right now, probably in your bed."

"Look, I'm all for being optimistic, but that's hella mean, Max. You can't just start getting my hopes up like that."

Complete dread was starting to sink in. Chloe was either being a damn good liar, or she was serious.

"What are you talking about? This isn't funny."

Chloe just looked back at Max stunned. "What are you talking about? Rachel's not alive. She's not here, she never will be."

The emotions were becoming too strong. Tears were welling up in Max's eyes as she reached over to Chloe, pleading for some kind of understanding. Not necessarily from sadness, but from feeling everything so deeply. Chloe wouldn't joke about it, would she? She wouldn't dare. Chloe even hated it when Rachel joked about the other version of herself. But hell, Max knew the night was off from the very beginning and this was just the start. She could barely even look at Chloe, so angry and confused the world felt like it was falling apart.

"Chloe, what the hell is going on!? This isn't like you!" She shouted, before starting to make her way out of the pool. She figured it was just something fun that Chloe wanted to do, not with the expectation of anything more happening. "I don't know how much longer you can keep playing with me like this. It's not fair to anyone, me or Rachel."

"Rachel this, Rachel that…" Chloe joined her, grabbing a towel nearby to dry off. "When is it going to be what you want, Max!"

Max turned around horrified. "Are you serious? Don't even make it about me…you're the one who fucking kissed me." Her voice trembled, tears streaming down her face. The weight of it all was becoming unbearable. She just needed to leave and go back home. Fuck all of this.

Chloe walked over to her slowly, her clomping boots echoing in the tense silence. "You're right, Max. I came on too strong there. I'm sorry."

There was a large amount of regret forming from her voice, a kind that was even starting to make Max feel it.

"Yeah, you think?" She hissed back, frustration seething through her words. Max narrowed her eyes on every move Chloe was making, feeling such an unfathomable amount of rage not just for her, but for Rachel. She didn't deserve any of this either. "Try explaining that to your girlfriend with major trust issues. The one who put her life on hold for you , just to prove that she wouldn't be with anyone else."

Chloe just shook her head as she was steadily growing confused at the constant mentioning of Rachel. She wouldn't dare to bring it up again, seeing how Max reacted the first time.

"I just wanted to spend some time with you."

"I do too, Chloe! We never hang out anymore," Max's shoulders slumped into herself. A pang of sadness reappeared, this time more pungent than the last. It was all so disappointing. "This was one of the best nights I've had in a long time, but it wasn't even real."

Chloe frowned deeply. Whether or not any of it was technically real wasn't the point. Lines were becoming blurry, and boundaries were crossed.

Were the memories of the past becoming a reality, or was it all a façade?

It was like being stranded in the desert in search of water, but after so long of walking under the scorching heat, you start to see things that aren't there. It was beginning to feel like it for Max. She was the foolish one trapped in the desert longing for a necessity that wasn't even existent to begin with.

While there was a small inkling of hope that maybe, just maybe, all of this was indeed real, there was a lot to talk about later. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken feelings. Chloe reached out to Max, unsure of how far she would let her go.

"I did have something else planned if you wanted to join me…" Chloe pleaded, voice plagued with urgency.

Max just stood there, with the chlorine smell becoming unbearable. Everything smelled like it. Her hair. Her clothes. The pool. Chloe.

She didn't have a lot to lose, and it wasn't like she was going to get any more rest if she went back home. Max stayed wrestling with her thoughts, feeling an uneasiness grow inside of her. This was all so weird. Without wanting to stay near the pool any longer, she started to make her way into the locker room as Chloe trailed after her.

"It's a little dangerous, but it's really important." Chloe quickly added.

Max could sense Chloe desperately wanting her to come with from behind her, to join in on another plan that really was unplanned all along. She wasn't going to lie, a part of Max did like all of the attention she was getting that night, but the guilt was eating away at her. Maybe she was selfish. Too self-centered to think that Rachel didn't exist and for her to just believe in the façade Chloe was creating. Max let out a heavy sigh as her hands gripped on the exit door's large handle.

"Please…" A last ditch attempt that Chloe loved to make. She waited, watching Max's face for any sign of approval. The door was halfway open.

There really wasn't another option. Max paused for a moment, seeing how far she could draw out Chloe's patience. She reluctantly nodded before entering the storm that was brewing outside.

"Okay."


"Room ten." The gruff receptionist handed the room key over to David, his voice carrying the weight of several years gone by. "It's on the second floor by the vending machine."

He was an older man, probably in his mid to late seventies, who seemed to be the only person working at the motel. He spoke with a distinctive gravel to his voice, like he had been through–or seen–things in his past life. A tan cowboy hat sat lowered on his head, one large enough to cast a shadow over his tired eyes.

Three Seals Motel was the name of the place David Madsen would be staying after the argument at dinner. The motel was small and desolate, located right by the ocean. A two hour drive from Arcadia Bay.

He had made the drive down the southern coast of Oregon, wanting to get as far away from the small town as possible. Truthfully, the entire world was eating away at him, especially with everything involving Chloe. He had gone too far, not able to read the situation and judge it as a bad time. He didn't know what had happened prior. He had no idea that they had all worked a long shift at the diner and were just as tired as he was. It wasn't fair to anyone what David did, and he regretfully knew that.

The golden key attached to a metal ring with a keychain for the motel was held firmly in his hand. Each stair creaked in heaviness. The vending machine on the second floor flickered. Mostly Coca-Cola drinks. It seemed like it still worked, but David didn't have any loose change on him to buy anything. The dim lights that were in the overhead lamps made the place seem creepier than it should have, and it didn't help that only one other car was there. Parked on the other end of the lot was a blue sedan. Room ten stood directly in front of David. The distant sound of waves crashing persisted, providing noise to the otherwise quiet night. Not even a car had passed by on the road. Maybe it was better this way.

Unlocking the door and entering whatever room ten had to offer, David stepped inside, finding himself in a space that wasn't just in need of repair, but had some cobwebs the size of his head in every corner. It wasn't the best place, but it was cheap and it was a long way from everything that was troubling him. He placed his backpack on the worn out bed to the left, leaving the other one unaccompanied. The room had an interesting atmosphere to it, one of melancholy and future tales of brotherhood.

As David unzipped his bag, he started to unpack everything that was hidden inside.

The first item was a revolver, the one he thought was locked up in his gun cabinet but was later discovered in the back of Chloe's pickup truck one night as he was doing a last minute repair on his car. Joyce hated when he did it, as he would be outside for hours tooling away on a problem that wasn't really a problem to begin with, but it was like an addiction to him. He loved working on cars, and this was no different.

But the gun. It gleamed under the lamp that rested above the bed; its metal surface worn and in need of a good cleaning. Chloe shouldn't have had it in the first place. While it wasn't the least bit surprising for David to find it, the fact that it was loosely laying around loaded with one bullet left inside wasn't very appealing. A part of him wanted to approach Chloe in a different way next time he would see her, assuming that the usual authoritarian approach wasn't working, and wanted to offer her a chance to go to the range with him to actually learn how to use it. It felt like a weight of responsibility he had to provide as her step-father. It was better in David's mind for her to use it safely, than not at all. He was all too accustomed to the darkness Arcadia Bay had, despite it being a small community.

Next was a police scanner. One that he may or may not have secretly taken from a local officer during training as a security guard for Blackwell Academy. It was rather heavy, and just taking it out from the backpack made it so much lighter to carry. While it was summer break and that job would resume itself back in the fall, he was currently busy working with the local police department in their investigation into the Prescott family and Mark Jefferson. The trial may have finished, but there was so much more left to do.

Lastly was a white binder filled with all sorts of information on the Prescotts. Profiles on Nathan that he managed to get from Principal Wells' office. License plate numbers. Geographical coordinates. Letters from Dr. Jacoby, Nathan's psychiatrist.

Despite everything and the long day he had working with the sheriff and the DA, David couldn't shake the immense amount of guilt he had from the dinner conversation earlier, knowing that he crossed the line so far to the point of no return. Not only would it take more time and effort on his part to make any kind of amends with Chloe—and frankly the rest of the household—but if something didn't change soon, he was going to be in big trouble.

David leaned back on the bed, the weary frame struggling under the weight as he turned on the little TV across the room. A late night re-run of some soap opera was on, with a hushed murmur of drama and over-exaggerated gestures. He groaned, quickly switching the channel to something a bit more his style.

There was a small picture of a deer on the wall above the desk. Whatever paper it was on looked like it was from the 1600s, dating so far back that if anyone took it down from the wall it might as well disintegrate. The lamp above the bed was flickering every so often. A white landline phone with a chewed cord sat on the bedside table. Great. He just hoped that he wouldn't need to call anyone for help, like the old man at the front counter.

The clock read 12:45am. Every minute that went by ticked slowly, like there wasn't any rush. The dusty blinds were shut, concealing the darkness that loomed outside.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. David settled back even more, to the point that he was drifting off to sleep. The voices on the television were like a gentle lullaby, slowly becoming unrecognizable. A mush of jumbled murmur blending together. Slowly, his consciousness waned, dissolving into a world where nothing else mattered. David snored loudly, not having to worry about Joyce complaining about it the next morning.

Just as he was deep in sleep, a loud ringing appeared from his phone that laid nearby. The ear-piercing sound made him jolt awake, looking around the surroundings as if it were a gunshot. Disorientated and groggy, David fumbled around for his phone, desperately trying to silence it.

The caller ID displayed the name 'James Amber', instantly causing David to fully open his eyes. He urgently answered the call, only for James' voice to come across with a sense of concern that was alarming.

"Mr. Madsen, I apologize for the inconvenience, but do you have a minute?"

"Yes, I do…just hold on." David slowly stood up from the bed, beginning to make his way out to the back balcony. He felt hot and overwhelmed, and even though there wasn't a reason for him to leave the comfort of the motel room, there was clearly an issue that needed to be addressed that was serious. James wouldn't call at a time like this unless something was going on. David cleared his throat, sensing the impatience on the other end of the call. "Did you find a lead?"

The cool air brushed against his face. The ocean glimmered under the moonlight.

"Fortunately, it doesn't have anything to do with the Prescotts." James stated plainly. It was hard to read his emotions, especially over the phone. "I have just been informed that a previous victim from the darkroom is registered for classes at Blackwell in the fall."

David frowned intensely. "What? Who is it?"

"Kelly Davis."

David leaned back from the railing to think. Kelly Davis. She was the most recent victim before Rachel, but no one knew much about her. Her binder found in the darkroom only consisted of black and white photographs, not secret journal entries or student files. She was an unknown. A mystery. Her name faded into the shadows like a secret lost to the wind.

"Kelly Davis is dead, James." Memories of the darkroom once again flooded David's mind. There was so much destruction Mark Jefferson had caused, even outside of Arcadia Bay. "She's been missing for a while now."

"She was presumed to be dead under process of elimination." James snapped back. "However, it was likely to be a misprint by the county. She has been living in Arcadia Bay the entire time."

David rubbed his forehead, trying to understand. None of this was making sense. She was brought up at the trial, there were files on her, and missing posters were scattered around the police station. She was gone, not currently living in the small ocean town like James had said. David was certain of it.

"Are you sure it's not someone else with the same name?"

James' annoyance spoke volumes through the speaker. "I can assure you that she is listed under the official Blackwell student registration for the 2013-2014 school year."

"Well then," David sighed heavily, "We should bring her to the station for an interview. She might know something we don't."

"No, that won't be necessary because Ray told me everything we needed to know. She will be staying at the dorms in room 217. Her family has been in full residency in Arcadia Bay since 2008…" His voice trailed off, hinting at a sense of hesitancy. "Which I will admit is unusual combined with the timeline of events, but it's not anything out of the ordinary."

A cold breeze swept through the outside, making David step back inside the room. He moved the phone from his hand to his shoulder, lodging it there with his head tilted. There was something underlyingly strange about the information shared, but he didn't know what. If anything, David was mostly just frustrated to have been woken up over some news that could have waited until another time. It was definitely not important, nor was it anyone else's business. While he was helping the investigation over the past few months, a teenage girl going to a private high school wasn't of major concern.

"Maybe she escaped and wanted a better life for herself. I don't blame her." David reached over for the remote to shut off the TV. He desperately wanted the call to end. He didn't come all this way just to deal with more problems.

"While that is a possibility, I certainly have my own reservations about it."

God, sometimes talking to James was a pain in the ass. The way he spoke was irritatingly dignified, bearing on the line of pretentiousness. He must never sleep, David assumed, because the guy never stayed quiet for longer than a minute, always feeling like he had to voice his opinion like it was somehow better than everyone else's.

James nearly interrupted himself, too eager to hear himself speak. "I find it hard to believe that anyone would want to go back to the same place they were almost murdered, but to each their own, I suppose."

"What about your daughter?" David cut in, realizing that the conversation was going nowhere. "I thought she still needed to finish her last year at Blackwell?"

He admittedly didn't know much about Rachel's story since she showed up at his house. While he knew about her being at Blackwell and was practically stalking her to find out what she was hiding, everything else was pointing to other problems. David just figured Rachel staying over was temporary, but after tonight, he didn't know what to believe anymore.

"Speaking of," James' tone switched, almost as a way to change the subject from any attacks on his family….even if it was more like a broken family barely held together than anything else. "I would assume that Rachel is staying at your house with Chloe. Would you let her know that I would like to speak with her? It is imperative that you tell her as soon as possible."


The mud of the forest floor was soft beneath their feet. The trees swayed in the wind beginning to pick up. A storm was approaching, but not quite to the level Max had dreamed about. Chloe was leading Max deep into the forest, a dark area of town that didn't look very familiar. Now drenched in an ominous atmosphere, the shadows that draped from the large pine trees cascaded below. The entire adventure was making Max feel incredibly on edge, now to the point that she was beginning to second guess every decision so far. The night was quickly wearing thin, but there was still so much to do and see according to Chloe. It was probably the first time she was able to keep a secret for this long. The two moved in silence, with the only sounds coming from laborious breaths and rustling of leaves.

Max clutched her phone tightly, allowing the feeble flashlight to shine out through the intense darkness that engulfed them. The light was only becoming dimmer as the night went on; a growing reminder that the battery was nearing its end. She tapped the screen to check…only 20% remaining. This was probably the worst place for it to die.

"Chloe, we've been walking for miles." Max was just barely keeping up, feeling like her legs were about to give out soon. They had already been walking for nearly an hour since the pool escapade. She wasn't sure how much more she could take of this. "Are you sure–"

"Max." Chloe interrupted before turning around to glance at her. Max was covered in mud, and from the looks of it, had small branches stuck from her hair poking out in all directions. Despite feeling a bit of guilt creeping up, Chloe resumed her walk forward at a rapid pace. "I am completely sure of this. Don't you trust me?"

A crackle of a branch, followed by Max's shoe getting drenched in yet another puddle. She tried to kick off the heavy dirt, but it was no use. Everything she was wearing had to be thrown away, which was a shame. She really liked her pink shirt with a deer on it.

"Of course I do, it's just…" She looked around, the trees only appearing to multiply. It was quite a sight, one that held a particular beauty, but not when she had no idea where she was stepping. Max sighed heavily. "We're in the middle of the forest, and neither one of us is prepared at all. I feel like this is a terrible idea."

Chloe slid herself over a fallen log, the old bark grazing against her jeans. A torn piece etched into the rough surface. She paused for a moment, feeling the sharp pain in her leg before ripping a part of the fabric free. A small square of denim remained on the wood, left to be discovered.

"Trust the process, Max. Isn't that what you're supposed to do with photography?"

For some reason, just the mere mention of that word made Max shudder. It was such a hard thing for her to get back into, because even if she kept telling herself that she would time and time again, she never did. Max held onto William's camera that Chloe gifted her, but it brought a feeling still too difficult to bear. Photography was always a lesson in taking risks. However, she felt like she was risking so much lately that the lines between reality and her nightmares were blurred; it was like she was finding her way through life just by guessing. She genuinely felt like she was losing herself in the process.

"I guess…" Max kicked a rock forward, losing it in the thick brush. "I just wish I knew where we were going."

Her statement was once again ignored, as Chloe continued to lead. She was eager, maybe too eager to get wherever she was going. A type of determination Max hadn't seen in her before.

Something about walking in the woods in the middle of the night was even creepier than they ever made it out to be on TV. Much worse was the fact that it was exactly 3:33 in the morning, the stereotypical time for ghostly and supernatural encounters. The forests in the Pacific Northwest were always believed to hold more secrets than the rest of the world, almost like they were charged with a type of energy that could change everything that went near them. Anything was possible.

A sharp creak in the distance made Max jump, making her freeze in her tracks. Her heart pounded loudly, breath catching in her throat. Logically, it was probably an animal, but she couldn't know for sure. The broken trail that they had been hiking up was twisting and turning in ways that it felt like it was leading them through an endless maze. She quickly ran to catch up with Chloe. An owl perched up on a tree let out a hoot, so loud it pierced through the deafening silence of the forest.

"Chloe…" Max was gritting her teeth so tight she could chip a tooth.

"Yeah?"

Chloe continued onwards, barely paying attention to where she was walking; tripping over large rocks and nearly slipping off the steep cliff that lined the trail.

"This is creepy as hell," Max completely stopped, letting Chloe walk ahead so far she thought she would forget about her all together. "My clothes are soaked, I'm exhausted, and..."

Chloe just shook her head and pointed into the distance where a clearing was emerging.

"We're here."

She smiled gently, putting her arm around Max's shoulders as she started to make her way over. The comfort was brief, as the location of where they were the entire time made Max instantly feel weak. She could collapse right there if it wasn't for Chloe holding her up.

"The Prescott's barn?" Her voice shook intensely. There was no way this was happening. "I–I don't think anyone is allowed in there."

Chloe simply waved her off. "That's only if we get caught."

Max was filled with not just rage, but frustration. It was a constant reminder of her choices, ones that she was actively trying to fix the first time around. Chloe was already starting to walk away before Max grabbed her arm at the last moment, pulling her back into the outskirts of the forest that lined the barn.

"I'm not going near that place." Max stately firmly, like she was confident in her words but was nowhere near that. A gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach was growing. Ready to explode. "I really thought you of all people would understand that."

It was hard to see anything, especially Chloe's expression. Was she hiding something from her? Was this just all to make her look bad, to expose the blind spot in Max's consciousness where she forgot a crucial piece of the puzzle?

"No, I get it," Chloe looked back between the barn and Max, still being pulled at by the sleeves. Neither of them had made it onto the ground yet, still stuck in the lush forest. "But you need to trust me with this. Just one time."

Max groaned, burying her face in her hands. This was all so much. There was absolutely no reason for either of them to go inside such an awful place. She didn't want to relive those memories, any of them, all over again. Even just seeing the outside was enough to make her feel deeply disturbed. Rusty beams barely able to support the weight of the massive panels of old wood. The location where David's car was parked when her and Chloe had to race to bring Rachel to the hospital. Large blue tarps lay around the perimeter, a blue that looked terrifyingly familiar.

There was still no other news about the Prescotts or even Mark Jefferson for that matter—or at least what she knew about it—which meant that potentially, anything could be in there. The barn itself looked exactly how it did before, except for a few lines of yellow police tape outside the property line. Definitely not enough to ward off visitors who wanted a look for themselves, but it was at least visually threatening. The rain by this point was beginning to pick up stronger, winds blowing it to an uncomfortable level. There were only two options laid out in front of Max: she either had to buckle up and head inside with Chloe, or turn around and try to make it back to Chloe's house in the pouring rain. Neither option sounded fun.

Feeling like there was no other choice, the two made their way down the steep hill and into the main area in front of the barn. The police tape surrounded them in a circle held up by traffic cones. Chloe went up to the front doors and tried to open them, rattling the old lock a few times but it wouldn't budge. Seemingly unfazed by the entire situation, she started to approach the side entrance, appearing like she knew it was there the entire time. A quick whistle made Max follow her lead, pushing aside the metal sheet to enter the barn. If either one of them got caught, they were going to jail that night no questions asked.

It was completely pitch black inside, aside from the subtle glow from Max's phone. Rain trickled in through the roof, with the wood beginning to rot from the overly wet summer months. It smelled unusual there, like a mixture of strong chemicals and ash. Chloe was already distracted and making her way to the other side of the barn, while Max stood back to take in everything that she could see. It looked fairly boring without much to get excited about, but something grabbed her attention right away. Large, empty plastic bottles were sprawled out across the hay. There were at least twenty of them by the entrance alone.

Max slowly walked over to one and kicked the bottle over, only to notice the huge warning label plastered on the side. Bright yellow with a skull and crossbones symbol. She bent over to pick it up, reading it closer.

Sodium Hydroxide. 32oz. Must wear gloves and goggles at all times when handling the solution. Extremely dangerous if ingested. Call Poison Control and get immediate medical attention.

The bunker door was cracked open across the barn, with a very dim light emitting from the opening. Chloe was crouched down beside it, peering down the stairwell.

"What is this stuff?" Max's voice echoed throughout the damp barn.

Science was notoriously not Max's best subject, as that was reserved for Warren, or even Chloe for that matter. Speaking of Warren Graham, she hadn't seen him in a while. Not even around town. Weird.

Chloe looked back around for one of the plastic bottles to read what it said. She took a minute to answer, and Max could have sworn that she wasn't really reading it because it was so damn dark in there.

"It's lye." She plainly said, cutting through the silence.

Max just looked at her, hoping for some kind of explanation.

"To make soap."

She raised her eyebrow at the suggestion. "…soap?"

Was Chloe taking the plan to live in the camper so serious that she googled how to make soap? Max had absolutely no idea what to believe anymore. Not only had everything changed now, but she felt like she couldn't keep up with it all.

"Yeah," Chloe stood up, brushing some of the hay off her pants, "Or it's to dissolve dead bodies into a liquid...so then you could pour it down the drain and nobody would know. I saw it on one of those True Crime shows our moms would watch together."

"Like when we would come back from being outside and they would still be sitting on the couch…" Max shifted uncomfortably at the past memory. Forget TV shows, she was living right in the middle of it. "I don't know if I could watch those shows now, it's way too real."

Regardless of what anyone said, Max knew exactly what was happening. The numerous empty bottles. The police tape. The Prescotts doing everything in their power to hide the crime. Every corner of the barn was plastered with tarps hanging from the walls. Loose gloves lay abound. Weird powders and remnants of chemicals she had no idea what they were. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Oh my God, Chloe. The Prescotts killed Mark Jefferson."

Chloe lightly laughed. "I thought you did?"

Did she not pay attention to anything that happened recently? Not even at the trial?

"No?" Max frowned. "The gunshot was only enough to injure him. I–I can't believe this."

While she was desperately trying to hold it together and not spiral into a state she would have a hard time getting out of, a wooden chest near the side entrance caught her attention. Slowly unhinging the latch and lifting it upwards, the strongest chemical smell imaginable appeared, making Max almost gag.

"Wowzers."

A large, stainless steel container rested in the chest, alongside mason jars filled to the brim with a weirdly colored liquid. Nothing was labeled, but Max could only assume that this was what they used on Jefferson's body if what Chloe had said was correct. She waved for her to join her.

"Looks like the Prescotts couldn't handle being blamed for something they did." Immediately, Chloe put her hand out to grab a mason jar, inspecting it closer. "Petty crime."

Max tried to pinch herself to try and wake up, but this was all real. The fact that Mark Jefferson was most definitely dead and disintegrated somewhere in the Arcadia Bay sewer system wasn't the problem. That was good news. But now, it all fell back on the Prescott family. And this strange night. Chloe wasn't acting like herself, more like a version that existed in another reality. Max didn't want to mentally go there, feeling like it wasn't a justified reason to feel apprehensive, but she had no choice.

"This is so insane, Chloe." It was spoken in more of a whisper than anything else. "Is this why you brought me here? To show me this?"

Chloe shook her head before standing up and reaching out for Max's hand. "Come on, the bunker is wide open. Let's check it out, SuperMax."

Max grimaced at the thought. Just being inside of the barn was enough for her to last a lifetime. It wasn't just the thought of having a bit of anxiety if she went down in the bunker that stressed her out, but it was becoming a possibility that she would have a vision or something similar. She never used to be worried about that kind of thing before, but with how much it had been happening lately in combination to it happening around this exact location before was making her deeply concerned.

"Chloe, I'm not so sure…"

Chloe's hand met Max's tightly, pulling her over to the bunker door without waiting for a response. They both stood looking down into it, with a few lights turned on from the hallway ceiling shining brightly.

"Max, it's just waiting for us to go down there. And plus, there's no cops." She winked, trying to lighten the tension, but it didn't work as planned.

The metal stairs were clean and sterile. The large vaulted door was beginning to appear at the end of the hallway. The cold cement walls lined the inside. This was actually happening. Fuck.

"Okay," Max hesitated, following the steps one by one. "But we need to make it fast."

"In and out. It'll be like no one was even here."

Chloe didn't let go of Max's hand the whole time, providing a sense of support. There was a chilling breeze flowing through, almost like a draft, but there wasn't a window in sight. Every step felt like an eternity, slowly inching their way into the depths of hell. The little keypad was still where Max had remembered it, with the same exact numbers etched into it. They both stood in front of the locked door.

"Do you still remember the code?" Chloe leaned nonchalantly against the opposite wall, crossing her arms as she waited for Max to enter in the numbers. There was no pressure to hurry.

"Yeah," Max nodded, shifting her attention to the keypad. "It's 542."

She started to punch in the buttons, but when she reached for the number two, she paused with a strange sensation creeping up her throat. A tightness that was constricting. Something was off. Max glanced over at Chloe, a feeling of unease spreading across her face.

"Chloe…what's going on?" Her voice wavered ever so slightly. "How would you know about the code? I don't remember telling you."

"Well, there's a keypad right there…that needs a code." Chloe tilted her head, growing concerned as she pointed to the keypad. "Are you feeling okay, Max?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Sorry. I'm just tired." She keyed in the final number and it let out a loud beep, signaling that the door was now unlocked. Chloe reached out to twist the handle.

No, Max wasn't good or tired right now. It was all a big lie and she knew it. If anything, there was no way she was going to sleep for a while. Her uneasiness didn't go away like she mistakenly assumed it would. A brief moment of cold air blew through the opened door. Before either of them entered the darkroom, Max paused.

"What time is it anyway?"

A question that was too random to just say at that moment. She knew she was prolonging everything so that she could try to get out of going in the bunker, but she knew it was far too late for that.

Chloe instinctively went to reach for her phone, only to find completely empty pockets.

"Shit," She muttered under her breath. "I don't know…probably some time at night?"

"Real funny."

Chloe led the way inside as Max followed, every step feeling weighed down like quicksand. This wasn't supposed to be this difficult. It's not like Max had never been in here before, and now with the police involved not much could go wrong unless someone saw them in there. They both had to be extremely careful with how much they touched, treating it like a museum as opposed to a zoo.

A flip of a light switch followed by every sound being made reflecting throughout the concrete walls that surrounded them. A subtle hum of electricity filled the air. Most items that were in there to begin with had remained intact, appearing like not much was touched after all. The old pantry of food, the plastic barrier that divided the entryway from the darkroom, the sink across the room.

"Still as creepy as before." Chloe had reached the counter where a scatter of papers were laid out, with a few files and cardboard boxes nearby. Upon closer inspection of one particular document, she gestured for Max to join her. "Hey, come look at this."

A legal document filled with words neither of them easily understood. Then a signature in bright red ink at the bottom of the paper reading 'Sean Prescott' dating only as far back as a week ago. Someone was in here recently.

"Sean Prescott paid a million dollars to bail out Nathan?" Chloe's eyes went wide. That was a lot of money for something that was incredibly suspicious from the start. "Holy balls."

"What are they trying to hide? I don't understand!" Max took the paper out of Chloe's hand, trying to read it herself. Not like it helped any better. She threw it back on the counter and stepped back, breath heaving for air. She was so incredibly exhausted. "Chloe, I tried so hard to do everything in my power to fix everything, and somehow I made it all worse."

Chloe stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Max. "You have to stop blaming yourself. None of this is your fault. How were you supposed to know that you were going to have superpowers one day? This is all fucked up." She pulled away at the last moment, looking at Max with so much grief in her eyes, it was hard to bear. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize about."

"No." Chloe shook her head, not letting go of where she was wanting to go with her words. "I've been a horrible friend. A horrible, piece of shit person throughout the years. You don't deserve me. You don't deserve this," She gestured to the room around them, "You don't deserve any of it, Max."

"Chloe," Max frowned. It was hurting her to hear. "That's a bunch of bullshit and you know it."

She didn't respond, always seeming to walk away at the worst times. A crinkle of the plastic lining into the other room was heard as Chloe made her way inside. Max hesitantly followed behind her.

The darkroom. It was the dreaded moment finally happening.

While it looked the exact same as the two other times she had been in there, no missing equipment or anything out of the ordinary, there was something that immediately looked out of place. It wasn't the fact that the security cameras were very much on and blinking a red light every few seconds, or the blatant setup of the signature white backdrop with clearly marked stains from April. No, it was that fact that every single red binder that was in the shelves of the locked up cabinet, were laid out across the floor, opened and covered in different sticky notes. Not a girl or picture missed. It was all in front of Max, drawing her to it like a siren.

Max crouched down onto the floor slowly, reaching out to bring some of the sticky notes closer, but some were written so sloppy that it was worse than a doctor's note.

"Look at all of this…" She was so stunned, she didn't even realize she was speaking.

The nearest binder was the last one in the line, as each one was placed very deliberately in an orderly fashion. Max brought it near, not seeming to be able to look away.

"Oh God." Her stomach sank at the sight. The first picture was of the three of them, shot in black and white, tied up in a concrete room. "We look horrible ."

It was the first time she had ever seen those pictures from that week. It was one thing to view the entire experience through her own eyes, but seeing it from an outsider's perspective made it so disgusting she wasn't sure how much she could take. Instant flashbacks appeared in her mind so vivid it was like she was there again.

"This is making me sick. I can't even look at this."

But she couldn't stop her morbid curiosity. It was consuming her so intensely, it felt suffocating. She flipped to the next page, the plastic crinkling on the turn. Some pictures were taken before Max had even arrived. Chloe and Rachel were unconscious laying on the floor, with some bucket containing a spilled liquid nearby getting all over them. Hopefully it was just water. Max didn't even want to think about what that could have been. It wasn't like there was a bathroom in there. Come to think of it, none of them ate or drank anything the entire time they stayed in the lighthouse. For Max, it was luckily only for a short time, two days at most, but for Chloe and Rachel, it was like they were prisoners. She genuinely didn't realize it had been that bad for them as neither one had spoken about it at all.

The next page contained pictures with a large portion of them including Nathan Prescott. Again, Chloe and Rachel were unconscious, but in one, Nathan was grabbing each one aggressively like a ragdoll. He was acting unlike himself, at least the version of himself that didn't exist around the rest of the population. Then there was one where he was posed on top of each of them, an act that was borderline groping and at most was something that was pushing the limits so far it was worrying. Max inched closer to the picture. Nathan was wearing a sickening grin on his face, pretending to strangle Chloe as she was lying on the cold, gross cement of the lighthouse basement. Blood was leaking from her nose, arms tightly bound by the same rope Max had found around her wrists. Did Chloe even know what happened to her?

Yet another picture. This time it was a very early one found at the back. It was just Rachel and some mysterious figure dressed in all black. While she had her own separate binder, these were so much different. She was dressed differently, almost like a grotesque model shoot, sitting in a chair placed in the middle of the room. A large white cloth, or maybe a bag, hung over her head. The other person in the room carried something that was hard to make out from the grainy image; it was either some kind of whip or a metal pole. The other pictures were more detailed, showing a side of Rachel that felt incredibly disrespectful and completely inappropriate for Max to even look at. Quickly shutting the binder and placing it where it was originally, Max hastily stood up. Enough was enough.

It wasn't surprising that neither of them talked about it, mostly out of not remembering the details. They were already so heavily sedated when Max had shown up that the memories were nearly faded by this point. Rachel, out of all of them, was the one to lock it up so tight never to be seen again. Max didn't blame her. The only feelings of the past that remained were feelings similar to that of listening to a nostalgic song.

While Max was busy examining each horrifying piece of history that had happened under her radar months prior to her return, Chloe had been wandering around the room aimlessly. She mainly stayed across the room, looking inside the cabinet where the surround sound speaker was located. There really wasn't much over there, at least from Max's brief memory of it, but the sounds of different objects rustling and moving made the air feel tense. Chloe was halfway bent into the gray storage cabinet, trying to look through each box without having to take it all out. She was looking for something specific.

"You know, I thought we'd…" Chloe's voice was muffled, now bringing out a small plastic bin. "Find something down here…" She opened it up but it was just a bunch of CD's. She stuck one in her back pocket.

Max was completely taken aback. The security cameras were capturing everything Chloe was doing, and she was tampering with the evidence heavily. They were pointed directly at her. It wasn't like Max didn't just do the same thing, but she intentionally put the binder back in the exact place it was before to avoid future problems. Or at least she hoped. Chloe, on the other hand, was creating such a mess that there was no denying that she was going to get in trouble.

"I don't think you should be touching all of that…" Max was frozen where she had been standing.

The lights above them flickered ominously, in a way that wasn't just because there was faulty wiring. A loud crash of thunder followed, so powerful that it was heard from the bunker. The entire room felt like it was shaking. The atmosphere was unlike any other time Max had been in there. She didn't necessarily feel the urge to leave anymore, if anything her curiosity to what had drawn Chloe back here was getting too great to ignore.

"What? Nothing's going to happen." Chloe quickly turned around to glance at Max, but accidentally knocked a lens over that rested on the nearby storage boxes. The glass shattered loudly on the ground making both of them flinch at the noise.

"Chloe, stop!"

Max urgently ran over to her, though now she had moved to the area behind the white backdrop. It was definitely an area Max had no idea what laid behind it, but even more so for Chloe. The version of Chloe Max came back to didn't know about the darkroom, nor did she know any of its contents. She shouldn't know about any of this. Max's hands were practically dripping with sweat. This was so unlike both of them to do something like this.

It was like the minute they entered the bunker everything changed. Max had entered into a vortex that had a deeper message than she was willing to accept. This was no longer about a secret outing in the middle of the night, combined with a little lighthearted mystery mixed in. Everything that was happening all came back to her dream. Her weird little dream that was so close to a vision, then the butterfly. The random blue butterfly that maybe wasn't so random after all.

"Hold on," Chloe shewed her away, putting her arm way back into the corner of the room. So dark and dingy that the only thing she could possibly find was a spider. "I know it's here somewhere…"

"We're going to get in so much trouble." Max moved closer, trying to pull on her arm. A feeling of dread was beginning to overtake her. She was holding her breath.

Chloe was struggling, pushing herself deeper in the dark corner, reaching as far as her arm would allow. Her brows furrowed in deep concentration, every muscle in her face was extremely tense.

"Almost…got it…"

In a final burst of effort, giving it everything she had left in her, Chloe emerged back with something held tightly in her now red and scuffed hand. Something small and…paperlike.

"Here."

Max's breath caught in her throat as soon as she touched the Polaroid. It wasn't just a random picture that caught Chloe's eyes, making her go back to look for it. It wasn't just a coincidence that it was there, hiding in the depths of the darkroom either. That Polaroid was Max's , one that she took on her way to the diner as the storm was heading into town. A moment frozen in time that was perfectly aligned with everything from her dream.

No. No, this can't be happening.

A glimmer of red ink got her attention on the bottom section of the picture. Max drew it closer, reading the date written on the bottom section.

10.11.13.

"What?" Max frantically glanced back between Chloe and the Polaroid, begging for an answer. Not knowing if she wanted to throw up or pass out, Max wiped the cold sweat off her forehead, feeling so sick she wasn't sure she was going to be able to leave the area. There was absolutely no way Chloe knew about that picture. "How did you—"

She stopped herself mid sentence as for a split second, she could have sworn that she could see the tornado moving. Her eyes being fixated on it was only making it worse. Her powers were aching to be used, feeling it pulse through her entire being as the image glitched in a way she knew all too well. Her ears were ringing, blood pounding in her head. The room seemed to be closing in. The more she looked at the image, the more she could hear the wind rushing. The damp, cool air that always came before a storm.

Before Max had the chance to even take a breath, a loud crash from upstairs pierced through the barn, so strong that it was deafening. Someone else was there and they wanted in.

"Shit. Max, we need to leave now!" Chloe instantly grabbed Max's arm, noticing that she wasn't able to move for herself, and pulled her towards the stairs.

Racing up and out of the bunker in such an urgency that they both nearly tripped over their own feet, they ran through the empty barn kicking the plastic bottles on the floor and pushing open the metal sheet to outside. Danger of some kind was approaching and neither of them wanted to be caught in the midst of it. They burst through the small opening on the side of the barn, stepping out into the pouring rain that instantly drenched them. It was such a torrential downpour, with the rain coming down so heavily that they couldn't even see five feet in front of them.

The thick outline of the forest around the perimeter looked like the best place to hide, as that was where Chloe led Max into, still dragging her by her arm. She was clutching onto the Polaroid for dear life. The incline was steep, washing out from the storm and becoming so slick that every step they took was risky.

"Okay," Max gasped for a breath, chest burning with adrenaline. She ducked under a large tree branch for support. "I think we lost them."

She kept watch out below, even if she couldn't really see anything. Her senses were on such high alert that anything seemed dangerous. She turned back to find Chloe, but she wasn't there. Her body froze for a moment.

"...Chloe?"

Several minutes went by without any answer until Chloe emerged from behind a distant tree, smirking so wildly that it was like nothing had just happened. Max was just as relieved as annoyed, as this was not a good time to joke around.

"Jesus, Chloe! You scared the shit out of me!" Max let out a shaky laugh, still trying to calm herself from the damn picture. She held onto her chest, feeling her pulse only grow more rapid. "You can't keep doing that."

"I know, but you're too easy." Chloe crouched down next to Max, resting her hand on her back as they both watched out into the front area just outside the barn.

The air was so misty and green. The only visible object Max could see was taking the shape of a red truck. It looked familiar. Red. She had definitely seen that exact truck before, but she couldn't figure out where. It was right there in her mind, but her thoughts were far too cloudy to think of anything coherent.

"Look." Chloe leaned forward, pointing in the general direction. One of the doors slammed shut in the distance. "There's someone down there."

Max pulled herself forward to watch. A person, who couldn't be recognized as it was still too dark, was rummaging around in the bed of the truck. They were wearing something big and flowy. Something that was completely concealing their identity.

"Hey, Max…"

She was still so in watch of the ground below that she barely recognized Chloe speaking.

"You can't save everyone, even though I know you want to." Her voice was surprisingly low, hushed to a whisper. "Sometimes, shit just has to happen."

The obscure words that seemed to come out of nowhere made Max turn back to her. She was irritatingly concerned, tired of zero explanation over anything that was happening. She just stared at Chloe, her mind going blank. And she thought that she was the cryptic one.

"Chloe, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Chloe's hand was still on her back, but was now ever so gently rubbing it in a way that made her shiver. "It'll make sense later."

Max's brow furrowed, her gaze stuck on Chloe trying to understand what she was saying. She was acting so weird. The way she was speaking was dangerously soft in a way that seemed way too uncharacteristic to the way she normally was.

"But just know that I'm always here for you, Max," Chloe reached over to wipe some of the rain off Max's face as delicately as she could. "Forever and always."

Her touch lingered for a moment before her hand started to go in and out of reality. Max gripped onto it, holding on for dear life, but it slowly enveloped her entire body. Like she was fading out of the physical world. At first, Max thought she was imagining it. Her eyes were desperately clinging on to the hope that she was just so exhausted that she was having a vision. The winds seemed to stop for the moment, almost as if whatever was going on wasn't of this world. Chloe was practically dissipating into thin air, with the mist of the forest enveloped the energy. Her hand moved away, transforming into a beautiful blue color, reflecting against the moonlight. It was about the craziest thing Max had ever seen in her life, and that was coming from someone who could rewind time.

"Chloe!" Max screamed into the empty space around her. She was twisting and turning in every direction, reaching out her arms trying to grasp for someone that was never there to begin with. "Chloe!"

She knelt down on the ground, sobbing so hard that it was getting hard to breathe. The world felt like it was crumbling. Nothing looked real anymore, mixed between a false identity and distorted delusions.

What the hell is wrong with me…

"Chloe!" Max yelled once more, with the realization striking her hard each minute that went by. She was covered in mud, shirt ripped to shreds from being caught on something, maybe the barn, when she was hurriedly running out for cover. Her tears were blending with the rain.

"Oh my God, was that some kind of vision?" Max wailed.

Everything was crashing down in front of her very eyes. She reached up to feel her forehead, feeling her skin burning but she wasn't hot.

"Was that the Chloe I—" Max quickly shook her head like it was the only way to get rid of the thought. It was too horrible to think about.

None of it was real. Nothing that happened that night was real.

The pool, the darkroom, the blue butterfly. Max was leaning back against a tree, struggling to catch her breath. While it was starting to make sense now, nothing seemed to make the feeling any better. She was entirely alone now, alone in the middle of the forest a very long way from Chloe's house. Even worse was that there was someone directly down below at the barn. An actual danger. She had to fend for herself, something that she fortunately didn't have to do since she arrived back in town. Her heart ached to be back home. She was stranded in the worst place imaginable during one of the worst storms to come on the Bay in years.

The same mysterious person from before was resting against their truck, clearly waiting for someone…or something. They weren't doing anything immediately that was alarming, but Max couldn't risk it. The smallest flame from a lighter was sparked that she could barely make out from the distance.

Chloe and Rachel were the only people that grounded Max, even if they both said that she did that to them. It was the only thing she could cling to at the moment, feeling so out of touch with reality and so disoriented that there was no other option. Chloe told Max at the diner to tell her if anything happened and this was no different. It was like a lightbulb went off somewhere inside of Max. She saw exactly what she needed to see tonight even if it initially didn't make any sense.

Without wasting another moment, Max urgently pulled out her phone to text Chloe—the one who was still alive and well and presumably sound asleep. She hoped she was at least. She didn't know what to believe at this point.

Max's phone was completely soaked, most likely ruined as well as everything else. She barely saw what she was doing as her fingers slipped on the screen as she typed out the message.

Max: Chloe I'm by the barn

She didn't even know how to word what had happened. How do you word a visitation turned nightmare?

Barely a minute had passed but Max was extremely restless. She rushed out another text.

Max: im alone and fucking scared

Still, there was no response. The battery indicator at the top of the screen read 2%. It must have been from leaving the flashlight on the entire journey here.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Letting out a long sigh and wiping the remaining tears from her bloodshot eyes, Max began to text Rachel until her phone died right after it was sent. The black screen pushed her over the edge. Anxiety mixed with fear, mixed with a weird sense of dread. Max didn't rewind time just to deal with so much chaos again. It wasn't fair.

She tossed the phone to the side, hoping to leave it there indefinitely as she was so irritated. There wasn't a reason for her to have it anyways. Max was feeling an overwhelming amount of guilt. A part of her thought that maybe she shouldn't have bothered Chloe and Rachel, waking them up for a problem she caused all on her own.

Why did she have to follow that blue butterfly? Why was she so quick to believe everything that happened? She knew better. If anything, Max was pissed off at herself for getting herself in such a mess. If she would have just stayed on that couch, none of this would have happened.

The Polaroid was still in her hand, now crinkled and edges worn. It was washed out, but the date was permanently inked on it.

"Ten."

She read aloud slowly. Ten meant October. The month that was quickly approaching. The month she was fearing with every part of her being.

"Eleven."

Her thumb traced the number, cautiously following the lines.

"Thirteen."

That date wasn't just something arbitrary. It was one of the most memorable dates Max could remember. She needed to be the hero everyone in the town needed, or it was going to be the exact same scenario that happened before. The storm. The fifth day. The choice. Chloe.

She wasn't completely confident that it was going to happen, as she was unsure of what exactly caused the storm in the first place, but she got the message loud and clear. Her powers weren't as black and white as she thought. There wasn't going to be a way out of Arcadia Bay quite yet. This wasn't over.