A/N - This was a story that I had written on the spot back in early 2020. It actually started off as a one shot, rather a snapshot of an AU moment, where Kirsty came face to face with Unbound!Pinhead when in the Pillar. Then it became a non-linear story. But I had begun to feel that writing the story this way was not working, so I decided to go back to the beginning, and write it linearly. This story will now start from when Kirsty visited the Boiler Room, just before coming face to face with Unbound. It does sort of serve as an AU HR3, but not entirely. This does still follow the events of the film, but with Kirsty inserted in there. I love the third HR movie, but I always hated Kirsty not being there. :/ The original first chapter will serve as chapter 3, and fresh chapters will hopefully soon follow. For now, enjoy these chapters. I apologise that it has taken me four years to get some new material written for this story. Please be sure to leave feedback, and let me know what you think. :) - Laura

One Breath Apart

Chapter 1

Kirsty had overheard excited chatter about a rad nightclub in the area. Also told directly about it, that she just had to go.

The place is huge, some would exclaim.

It's run by a hot, rich dude who is quite the charmer with the girls, others squealed.

The bar and grill is far out, declared one or two.

For Kirsty, she'd always be individualistic, and not one to be swept up with trends or groupthink. If others in her circle of friends and fellow students had jumped onto the latest bandwagon or hip new cool thing, she would usually shrink back and do her own thing. Especially if it didn't feel right.

And this...this hot new joint crudely called The Boiler Room...it certainly did not feel right in the slightest. Every little fibre of her being told her to stay well away, that the club concealed a dark and dangerous secret. She was better off not joining her college buddies, as well-meaning as they were, and stay at the dorm with her studies and artwork.

But something, something...she did not know what - there was a pull. An unconscious pull towards the place. She had been to this club once before, a few nights earlier, though for the life of her she couldn't exactly fathom as to why she felt the need to visit in the first place. A rather fleeting and puzzling urge to take a step inside when she was passing by one night had overcome her when she was out having a club-crawl with some of her college buddies.

Now the same buddies were smitten, obsessed with this strange nightclub that every young adult, and even minor, in New York wanted to pass the threshold of. But Kirsty couldn't see the appeal.

It was hardly the sort of place that appealed to her, with its tawdry, garish and nightmarish art deco that assaulted her senses whilst within its walls. But alas, she went along for the sake of appeasing her friends, and perhaps even study some of the artwork on display.

Though that pull that she could not shake too played a part, and she ended up paying a subsequent visit, but this time with a sketchbook on her person, and sat at the bar and grill alone...quietly observing fellow patrons and the grim art that was displayed in every part of the club.

But she would not remain alone for long, as soon the empty seat beside her was taken by a young man, and his attentions were entirely focused on her.

And now, here she was, an hour into her visit, in reluctant conversation with the very owner of the club himself. There she had sat, nursing a white wine on her lonesome doing little sketches at the bar whilst her friends danced to the pumping rock music which had filled the open dancefloor. The barman had approached her, with a single red rose stem in hand...which he then proceeded to present to her.

Kirsty had tentatively taken the rose, unsure of what to think, and then the dark-haired twenty-something man with the smarmiest face suddenly appeared by her side, plopping himself on the barstool beside her. Then she remembered, having heard from the chatter of regulars... this was a common seduction tactic perpetrated by the young and rich club owner as a means to flatter women into bedding him, and here he was... sat beside her, having chosen her as her next conquest.

Kirsty had snorted into her wine glass as she took a small sip, amused by the fact that this cocky fool with the most punchable face imaginable wanted her.

His name was J.P Monroe, and she found him honestly quite slimy. Repulsive even. It confounded Kirsty as to his popularity amongst the patrons, and why they wanted so much to be in his presence. Then again, she reasoned, most people are impressionable, especially when young.

Kirsty pushed the rose over to J.P as he attempted to work his charm on her. "I'm flattered," she had told him as she stood, though not sincere in the slightest. She wasn't flattered one bit. "But...I'm spoken for." It was a lie, of course. She wasn't dating, and hadn't dated in a long while. But she had hoped that with the implication there was a man in her life, it would be effectual in deterring the club owner.

"C'mon," Monroe crooned. "I caught you earlier, looking at my artwork. I see you're a woman of exceptional taste." He then gestured towards her purse. "I noticed you are also carrying a small sketchbook with you. I figured you were an artist too."

"I'm an art major at the New York College." she told him flatly, not looking in his direction. "I'm here to study art and all its forms and history, and that means I often stop to look at the work of others. Whether it's to my liking and taste, or not."

He didn't pick up in the venom in her voice when she spoke the last part, though she did keep it subtle. He did, however, pick up on her pensiveness, the fact that she wasn't falling for his charms or tricks at all. His lips curled upward, and he smiled sweetly, trying his best to shed the seductive and cocky façade so she would lower her defences.

"That's incredible." he enthused. "I'm all self-taught of course, and never went to college."

It shows, she thought to herself.

"But good on you for going yourself. I bet there's so much to learn."

"There is." she nodded, draining the last of the wine from her glass. "Which is why I have to leave. I have an early class tomorrow."

Monroe didn't grab her arm, or physically attempt to stop her. Instead, he took her coat which had been draped over her seat, and gallantly placed it around her shoulders. "Sure, it's cool. I mean, I wouldn't want to impose on your education." He was oozing faux consideration. "Though I'd hate if we couldn't have another opportunity to discuss our mutual love of art in the future."

"If this is your way to get into my panties, you're wasting your time. I've heard stories about you." Kirsty finally looked up at him, staring him dead in the eyes as she spoke curtly to him. She snatched her purse from the bar counter.

J.P lifted his arms and held his hands out, palms facing her direction, trying to calm her. "No, seriously, no funny business. I just thought it'd be awesome to talk about art. You have no idea how lonely it is here, and how most girls here aren't even interested in my work, or the art over-all. I'm always looking for inspiration, maybe even a... model... for me to base some new work on." He was grinning now. "You know, I have a really cool piece that I've recently been working on. It's a work in progress. Every now and then I add a little something new to it, something fresh. Some people have also contributed their input to it."

There was a pause before Monroe shrunk away and gestured to Kirsty. "When I saw you, and especially since seeing your sketchbook, I thought that you'd want to add your own... unique flair to it. Maybe even..." Another pause was taken as he appraised her. "...your whole likeness."

It was an in joke that he hoped she wouldn't pick up on. He smiled again, and she took a breath, and sighed heavily. "Well, what is it exactly? Canvas? Marble? Clay?"

"It's sort of a stone pillar, actually." he told her, feigning joy. "I've been adding faces to it. Some actually being that of a few of the patrons. I must say, it's turning out quite nicely. One day, I will unveil it, unleash it to all who come here. But first, it needs a little more... flesh."

Kirsty sighed again, looked behind her to where her friends were now drunk off their asses and dancing woozily with a couple of guys. Then she took a look at her sketchbook. Finally, she caught Monroe's gaze, who gave her an almost puppy dog look.

He had to have her. There was something about her that attracted him to her. Her flesh had been a beacon to him from the moment he clapped eyes on her. Also, the fact she was playing hard to get and was incredibly stubborn had appealed to him even more so. Indeed, he had his pick of girls to choose from this night, and they were certainly dumb and desperate enough to go along with him. But he was feeling more confident than usual, and he wanted to take his time in seducing this stunning young woman. He saw this as a challenge. She was definitely a lot smarter than his usual clientele. It was almost a shame, really. But he figured his companion would greatly appreciate this offering, especially as she would count as the last one he would give. The rewards, he reasoned, would be far greater than he originally imagined.

She let out a harsh breath and shook her head. "Alright, okay. But I mean it, no funny business. Where is this pillar, then?"

Monroe smiled, and swept his arm ahead of him, pointing towards the set of stairs leading to the next floor, where his private apartment was. "In my room, until it's finished. Like I said, it's not ready to be unveiled yet." He then swept his other arm out before him. "Ladies first."

Kirsty begrudgingly took the lead and walked towards the stairs, and with a little trepidation, slowly ascended them.

To Be Continued...