Stella and Nea met during senior year. She remembered her walking in on Stella and her friends smoking weed in the school bathroom, and as soon as they locked eyes it was like pure magic. It wasn't the first time Nea was head over heels for someone, but this was the only time where she was able to find a girl that actually wanted to pursue a somewhat stable relationship- Which is what Nea desired most.

They took it pretty slow. Her and Stella hung out the rest of senior year with a fairly platonic status. They bonded over being ripped from their homes, Nea being a Swedish immigrant and Stella being from South Africa. It was nice seeing each other everyday in school and spending the nights ignoring their studies to wreak havoc together. But when they graduated and Stella got accepted to university, things changed drastically.

Deep down both knew what they wanted all along but they were just a little shy and unsure of how to approach their situation. Neither understood the connection between them, though they knew enough that it wasn't just a fool around type of thing. They were committed to each other without having had any romantic interaction. And when they finally breached that initial boundary, things got heated.

Stella knew she only had a couple months until she was moving across the country to pursue her dreams in college, but she wasn't ready to just leave Nea behind. Nea was her other half. They didn't work without one another. A decision needed to be made, which resulted in them having an honest conversation one night as they sat beneath the stars in some abandoned park outside of the city. Luckily, they were on the same page.

So they devised a plan. Nea would get a job, save up money over the summer and between her and Stella's savings, they'd move to California and get an apartment together. It was a dream come true. Nea couldn't have felt more fulfilled with where her life was headed. She actually had a girlfriend, an exciting plan and most of all… freedom.

The summer was tough. They both were working two jobs to keep the dream alive. It meant spending time with one another wasn't always possible, not like it was before when their only responsibility was to go to school and come home to have fun. Shit got harder as they began to grow up. Sometimes when you fall in love young, it can take a bit to adjust to how each other develops because those years are full of lessons, and you can only learn lessons when you make mistakes.

Nea was Stella's biggest advocate. She wanted to see her girl catch all the stars she was aiming to grab. Nea would build a ladder to outer space if it came down to it. But the biggest obstacle for them was money. Waitressing jobs and fast food wasn't cutting it. They needed to start raking in bigger bucks but they weren't qualified to any job that could provide that much. It started to really weigh on Stella. She seemed vacant and depressed. Any time spent not working was done in bed beneath a pound of covers, where she laid and pondered the worth of her dreams in the darkness of her bedroom. The poor thing was beginning to think that college and success wasn't meant for the type of girl she was. And it really made Nea's heart ache and twist in ways she didn't know was possible. She was determined to do something about it.

Well, considering the crowd they typically hung out with, Nea figured she could easily find something a bit more… under the table. She met a few guys with stupid nicknames and bad tattoos, wandered around dark alleys and ended up in more than enough seedy apartments. By the end of it, Nea had an alarming amount of drugs at her disposal, which she planned to start selling. While the threat of becoming a felon crossed her mind a couple times, she couldn't just allow that to come between her and supporting Stella. She'd go to hell and back for her, so what was dealing drugs compared to that?

If only she knew.

Stella came over to Nea's one night, only to see the paraphernalia all over her bed. Being dumb, Nea just sat there with a smirk and gestured with wide arms at the sight, expecting Stella to understand the new plan. Which she did, but her reaction was not what Nea anticipated.

"What. The. Fuck." Stella seethed. "Drugs? I- Is that heroin Nea? Are you fucking kidding me?!"

She was astonished. She was angry. Worst of all, she was disappointed.

They argued the whole night. Nea tried to explain how good this was even though it was illegal. But Stella wasn't having any of it. Sure, they'd done their share of delinquent activities and gateway drugs, but it was different than dealing. They weren't dumbass kids anymore. What was Stella supposed to do if Nea got caught? If Nea got sent away? She'd be stuck in the bin for years and then what? It was a stupid way to waste your twenties away and Stella was really shocked that Nea was willing to put that on the line. They were supposed to stick together, but how was that gonna happen between prison phone calls and infrequent visits.

Stella thought it was the most selfish thing Nea ever tried to do. Which really hurt Nea's feelings, because she had only intended the opposite.

Their argument went nowhere. 'Sorry' wasn't exchanged once. The night went down like a fiery blaze of pain and regret. Nea gathered up all of the drugs, stuffed them into her backpack and grabbed a couple of spray cans. The last thing she said to Stella was:

"I only did it because I love you." It was the first time those three words had been uttered in their relationship. The knife gauged deeper when Stella didn't say it back, and Nea figured she wouldn't linger around to be hurt further.

She tearily called some friends as she walked through the city streets, asking to do something lowkey to distract her from the fight. A group of them got together and headed off in someone's beat up Honda with no due direction. They always just eyeballed whatever looked interesting. After driving for an hour, someone caught sight of a big building on the side of a winding road and so they parked and piled out to take a seat on the hood of the car.

A dude named Ronnie, clad in his leather jacket and spiked hair, slipped beside Nea and offered her a messy line off of the top of his hand.

Fuck it. She ducked a tad and plugged her left nostril, snorting up the coke with ease before wincing slightly, holding the bridge of her nose to help the discomfort. Nea stood there just trying to forget about everything that happened that night when Ronnie eyed the spray cans in the bottle nets of her backpack.

"You're the one that did that mural on the side of the courthouse, right?" He asked. Nea just nodded as she was rushed with that addictive feeling of euphoria, not quite paying attention to the guy. But he continued, not leaving her alone.

"Dope. I liked that one," He complimented her. Then, "You know this place is super haunted, so a lot of kids from St. Michael come here to haze each other and shit. It'd be worth tagging it. You could spread your popularity further."

Normally Nea wouldn't give two shits, but now that she was feeling good and energized, she was honestly willing to do anything. Although when she actually looked at the building, it kinda did give her some major creeps.

"I don't know man." She said while making a face at the building.

"What if I dare you? It would be legendary if you tagged Crotus Prenn," He urged.

"That's what this is? Crotus Prenn?"

"Yeah, it was an old asylum. Got shut down… but not because of patients being tortured or any of that shit. I guess like, everybody got murdered or something."

Nea looked at Ronnie. "That's a bunch of made up shit. You sure you didn't get hazed here too?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No. But I still think you should go and do it. Don't make me double dog dare ya."

Well, Nea grabbed a can and called it a deal with Ronnie, then made her way toward the building all alone as all the laughter and the stench of weed disappeared. When she stepped inside the building, it suddenly became eerily silent. The hallways were dark and cluttered with webs. Nea's eyes struggled to adjust to the blackness. Her mind began to conjure strange shapes out of shadows which only served to spook her. A whole minute went by as she just stood there, debating whether or not she actually wanted to do this.

Cocaine did a lot of things. And in this instance, it pumped Nea with adrenaline. If a ghost walked up and tried to fuck with her, she was certain that she could cast that bitch to hell.

With that, Nea took a right and entered through the first room she spotted and noticed a sizable blank spot on the wall, perfect for her tag. She got right to work, using what little moonlight was available to do what she did best.

Mashtyx.

The orange spray paint was bright and vibrant, certainly eye catching amongst the bleak clutter. Nea stood back and admired her work for a moment, but the longer she stared, the less visible everything around her became. She rubbed her eyes suddenly, not understanding what was going on. When she opened them again, there was a sea of blackness ahead of her.

Just like that, she slipped out of consciousness and was passed through wicked hands until-


Nea's eyes snapped open. Her chin was still resting atop Meg's head, a few strands of disorderly red hairs tickling her skin. She sat up straight and looked down at Meg, seeing that she must've wrapped up her panic attack and was now clinging onto Nea quietly, sniffling here and there through the stiff silence that'd enveloped them.

Honestly, this stuff wasn't Nea's strong suit. She knew how to give a hug, but not how to comfort a person. So she hoped she was doing the best she could to give Meg what she needed. Nea closed her eyes and imagined for a moment that she was holding Stella, and tried to predict what she'd say if Stella was going through the same thing as Meg. It was tough to think about. It hurt Nea somewhere deep trying to evoke that feeling of empathy, because she would really hate to see Stella feel the way Meg did about herself and her situation. All Nea could do was squeeze a little tighter and tuck Meg's head into her neck.

They sat like that for a little longer until Nea settled on something safe to say.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"No. But I'll figure it out," Meg said through a deep breath. Then she unraveled herself from Nea but paused as she leaned away, getting a good look at her.

"Thank you," She said with the most sincerity. "Please don't lose yourself in this place."

Nea just nodded coolly, but her mind shifted to a series of chaotic worries. Stella was by herself. Nea was supposed to be there with her, but she was stuck in this place. What happened when she didn't come home? Stella would think that they were done, that she had decided to call it quits over the whole blow up. The unknown had Nea struggling to keep her composure. But she did her best to push it down. She needed to survive first, get home later.

They both got up. Meg finished looking at the chest, where she was able to dig out a flashlight and a couple of extra batteries. Then they got to work on the generator. Meg taught Nea the ropes, finding that she was a quick learner and had graceful hands that worked on fixing the generator with ease.

As they sat repairing, Meg prayed that Dwight and Claudette were okay…


POP! First gen done.

Dwight and Claudette removed their hands from the machine, a couple of sparks falling onto their shoulders as they stepped away from the whirring thing. They hadn't really spoken the entire time since finding each other wandering through the new trial. For the first time, Dwight felt like they were losing their grip on the team. He didn't like it.

Obviously losing Jake really put a burden on the morale, especially when it came to Claudette. Her eyes were foggy, always trained on a single spot where she seemed to just stare at nothing, yet see everything. You could tell she was probably replaying that tragic moment over and over again. Seeing his face, the blood seeping from his mouth, that frail and tortured scream emitting from his marred body. And there was nothing she could do but run. Run away and leave him to die a horrible, painful death.

Dwight felt sick when he thought about it, thought about how it would make her feel. It was clear to them that her and Jake had a bond. A place like this will do everything to strengthen it, then tear it apart.

He felt like it was his duty to try and return her to normal, though it'd probably fail. But he was willing to at least try.

"At least he's free now," Dwight began. He barely finished his sentence before Claudette jumped down his throat.

"Because we turned our backs on him. He died because we let him die. He's free but… but he probably hates us," She muttered, shaking her head in disappointment, hands coiling together with regret.

She still had the medkit tied to her jeans. It bouncing against her thigh created an unnerving rhythm that had Dwight hypnotically sinking deep into his thoughts. She was making him feel really guilty. No one liked to feel that way. But he was trying to figure out if he deserved it or not. He felt like he had done his best… but maybe him and Meg did fail the team. And the ultimate price was someone dying under their watch. It made Dwight really hate himself. Did Jake hate him too?

He also had a medkit, the one Meg had found at the farmhouse. His hands were beginning to get clammy and the handle of the kit was slipping. Everything was making him feel uncomfortable, adding to an irritation that had been building within him. He didn't like the guilt, the pain and the sensory distractions. He was getting overwhelmed.

Claudette continued. "You could have done something. You and Meg. But you stood there and did nothing."

Dwight couldn't take it. Each word had this feeling of agitation rising into his chest where it began to overflow.

"What do you expect to happen Claudette?" He stopped and stared at her. She remained silent, not expecting Dwight to have reacted like that. "No one is happy or having a party that Jake died. We are all fucking heartbroken. Maybe mistakes were made, but we are fucking scared and haven't done the 'survive against a murderer' thing before. Okay? So I don't know what you expect when you're grilling me about this."

They had a showdown. Claudette and Dwight stared at each other. He was expectant, awaiting an answer, while she was stone cold and not interested in supplying one. When the conversation seemed like a waste of time, Dwight continued to walk. But Claudette didn't follow.

When he noticed she wasn't beside him and he could no longer hear her medkit, he turned and was shocked to see she was gone, nowhere in sight. He sort of laughed breathily, looked all around him and when he realized she was actually gone, Dwight sighed despondently. Well that wasn't at all what he was expecting to happen.

It didn't take long, after some aimless wandering, for Dwight to happen across a huge building in the center of everything. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, trying to gauge whether or not it was something he wanted to investigate, when he noticed the smallest sparks glowing in flashes on the second floor. He quickly recognized that it must've been the others working on a generator.

He darted over to the building, vaulted through a hole in the side of its wall and located the staircase, hopping up it until he saw Meg and Nea in a large room with a nearly finished generator.

"Hey!" He said, announcing his arrival. They both jumped out of their skins until they realized it was just Dwight, returning their focus to the generator. One piston to go.

"Do any generators?" Meg asked casually.

"Yeah, only one. But I lost Claudette."

She looked at him with confusion, prompting him to go into the story.

"She was still upset over Jake. I told her that I don't know what she expects us to do and next thing you know she's just gone," He explained, watching as the generator popped and the girls stood up, coming toward him to form a circle.

"Well we have to find her," Meg said with crossed arms. "She could get hooked and we may not know."

Then she took a step back and rubbed a hand along her face worriedly. "What is she thinking…"

Dwight and Meg continued talking quietly about the situation, devising their next move as Nea stood by, being the furthest away from the generator and close to the room's exit. She leaned against the side of the one observation stand, thinking about Stella and their future, hoping and praying that this whole nightmare didn't ruin everything they'd built. Nea still didn't quite understand what was even going on. She half expected to wake up in bed, maybe the cocaine was laced with something gnarly and this was all just a bad trip. But then again, everything around her was so visceral that it couldn't have been fake. It scared her a lot. She'd never been this terrified ever in her life.

These uncomfortable feelings started making her become antsy. So Nea slipped out into the hallway, unnoticed by Meg and Dwight. As soon as she did, she spotted a shadow climbing the steps.

Nea quickly ducked down and ran over to a room divider that was sitting in the hallway. Her movements were agile and precise, missing every piece of broken rubble that would've emitted a sound beneath her feet. Like a cat, she curled her limbs inward and huddled beside the divider, peeking out through a sliver between the frame and the fabric of it. That's when she heard the familiar wheezing of the Nurse. But Meg and Dwight were none the wiser because the generator was masking the passive noise of her breathing, and they weren't doing the best to lower their own voices either.

She watched as the Nurse's head snapped in the direction of the conversating pair in the other room. The ghostly figure raised her hand and suddenly a tiny orb-like aura of yellow accumulated right above her palm, becoming brighter and brighter until the skin on her decaying hand broke apart in the same way the bark of wood cracked in little pieces within a campfire. There was a simmering blaze beneath her flesh that continuously broke in pieces along the curves of her arm, emitting a sizzling sort of sound that buzzed through the silent hallway.

Nea could only sit and be an unwilling spectator. When the fiery aura reached its peak, the Nurse's body disappeared, moving through the wall and into the other room where she reappeared, completely bypassing the laws of nature.

Meg had been the one with her back toward the Nurse, so Dwight had a clear view of the phenomenon. One second everything was fine, and then next it was all blood. He saw the Nurse appear and fly toward Meg's back with its bonesaw raised high in the air, and as soon as Meg was within reach, the saw came plunging down onto her back.

The force of the hit knocked her forward into Dwight's chest. He caught her and instinctively wrapped his arms around her torso, taking off as fast as possible while trying to support her weight.

Meg screamed and cried, only realizing Dwight was dragging her down the staircase when her knees began scraping against the rotting wood. He got her all the way to the bottom to a hole in the wall, where he then threw Meg outside of it. The giant laceration in her back left a trail of blood along the broken stone of the vault before she landed roughly on the ground, screaming again as her wound scraped against all the rubble. She could feel rocks and debris mushing into her spongy, marred backside. They didn't have time to do anything about it.

There was an echoing screech coming from within the asylum, signaling another attack. Meg went on her hands and knees as fast as she could and scrambled off the ramp that the rubble created. Dwight was right behind her, grabbing her hand and helping her to get away quicker than her trembling body allowed.

But the Nurse had a great advantage. They had no idea where she was coming from, so when she speedily emerged from the wall, Meg had barely any time to react. Another slice across her shoulder had the redhead crumbling to the ground, tearing her hands from Dwight's grasp. The bonesaw hacked so deeply into the flesh that the muscle tissue was dangling in chunks and leaking pools of blood all over the dead grass. That was the hit that did her in. All she could do was lay there and await the hook, but Dwight had another idea.

He dropped the medkit beside Meg and taunted the Nurse in front of him, who was hunched slightly, looking as though she'd overexerted herself with her otherworldly power. She grunted in a shrill pitch before raising her clothed head again. You couldn't see her eyes, but Dwight knew they were trained on him.

He beckoned with his arm, shouting at her to keep her on his tracks. Being in the open was going to help. Dwight knew that if he led the Nurse to the walls then he would be the one at a disadvantage, but if they remained in the open, then he was confident he could dance around the power she possessed.

They ended up in a greenhouse, which he knew was strong for him since he could see through the glass panes all over the petite structure. He ran through the side entrance and ducked, peering up to just barely see the Nurse charging another burst of her teleportation. It gave Dwight a good view of exactly what was going on when she used her ability, allowing him to understand that it was less of her moving through things and more of blinking in and out of existence in order to bypass objects.

She disappeared on the outside of the greenhouse, reappearing again on the inside right in front of Dwight-

The bonesaw swung but he ducked fast enough. The weapon collided with a glass panel and shattered it to a million pieces that rained down onto him as he scurried back outside the greenhouse, running along the outer wall while always keeping his eye on the Nurse. He could see the fiery aura getting brighter through the foggy glass, letting him know another blink was coming. Thinking fast, he decided to run toward her, knowing that she was expecting him to run away and would probably blink behind him.

Which is exactly what happened. By the time she'd gotten to where he previously was, Dwight was already back inside the greenhouse and running out the exit. He could hear her take another moment to recover before the loud screeching replaced it.

He sprinted to a rock about as tall as he was, and he ducked behind it. His lungs were starting to ache. The difference between him and Meg was that Dwight was a lazy, laid back person who didn't exercise a day in his life, at least not willingly. So he was gassed and breathing heavily, therefore couldn't keep his body quiet as he hid behind the rock. He hoped that the Nurse's hearing was impaired by the cloth over her head, but it seemed their wishes were never granted.

A whoosh of air went right through Dwight and before he knew it the Nurse had blinked right in front of him, exposing his little hiding spot. Her frail looking arm had a lot of kick behind it, despite the weak appearance of it. The already bloody bonesaw sliced through the air and cleavered through Dwight's shoulder. He could feel the teeth of the saw tickle his shoulder blade's bone, welcoming him to a new sensation of pain he wished he never felt.

She yanked it from his body, a mess of stringy flesh and blood hanging onto the saw making Dwight want to vomit. There was nothing more surreal than seeing your own skin be grotesquely torn to bits right in front of your eyes.

He clumsily tried running away but he struggled to get to his feet. With the blinding pain in his shoulder, his arm didn't want to work and left him unable to brace himself properly through the panic and despair.

Another bone chilling screech filled the air, followed by the Nurse's tired grunt. Dwight laid on his belly and couldn't see where she was, but he sensed her presence right behind him. Before he could turn around-

WHACK!

The bonesaw was embedded in his lower back. He cried and cried, screams probably reaching the far corners of their trial. Then there was the strangest sensation of an energy lifting him from the ground until he was levitating right before he was taken into the arms of the Nurse, where she hoisted him up onto her shoulder. His body was too pained to process the grimly magical idea of such an experience.

Suddenly, things got bright. Next thing he knew, Dwight was toppling back down to the ground where he miraculously landed on his feet. He weakly turned to see Claudette wielding a flashlight, which she beamed directly in the Nurse's face who was holding a hand up, attempting to block the light. Dwight took it as an opportunity to run off, which he did.

His weak legs took him to one of the walls off to the side, when he turned back to see where the killer was, he watched her disappear with a screech off in the direction of Claudette.

He leaned against the wall with a sense of relief that he didn't have to run for a short time, though his backside ached with a tremendous amount of fiery hot pain. Every move he made, every muscle that twitched sent his body into a deepened state of adrenaline in order to counteract the horrible feelings. Dwight breathed heavily and forced his eyes to stay open, taking the time to look around. Beside him was a generator.

The steps he took were slow, feet dragging through the dried dirt. He dropped to his knees in front of the generator and stuck his hands in the chamber, getting right to the repairing process. If you wanted to be a good leader, that meant you had to set good examples. At that moment, Dwight was set on working through the pain.

He wondered if his dad saw what he was doing, he'd at least be proud of the fight Dwight was hell bent on putting up…