She had loitered by the front door for a couple of minutes, awkwardly swaying like a child waiting at the cash register for their mother to return and pay for the groceries. Except she wasn't a child, she was alone, and she had been the one to bring herself there. Min didn't exactly know what had compelled her to go. Inside of her was such a deep… yearning. Emotions, desires- They were the hardest levels of the soul to navigate. Min had never been overly concerned with dissecting them, in fact she generally believed there was no need to.
But things changed. They changed fast. The thoughts… the dark nights spent alone… she couldn't escape herself.
Joining the Lazer Bears was a monumental point in her life. The thrill of championships and sponsors and camaraderie was the peak of her story, but it was quickly swallowed by the darkest valley of the tale, which was the gradual decline in her dear Yéye's health. His admittance into the hospital was the latest tally added to her board of troubles. Earlier that day she had gone to visit him. By the time she had escaped the pitiful image of him and the illness that had stolen his light, Min felt like a cavern had opened up within her.
That's why she was there, standing beneath buzzing neon. Drinking was supposed to help, right? Alcohol was something she was a virgin to. There never was an appeal. She watched people puke their brains out and walk around with sunglasses on during the morning hours spent indoors, all due to the lurking side effects of too much drinking. Never once had that been something that she was willing to risk simply for a good time.
But she wasn't trying to have fun.
Drowning in the coziness of her pink hoodie and pleated skirt ensemble, Min blew a sigh into the cool night before peering at the front door for the millionth time. She should've worn something more inconspicuous. Her eccentric clothes would draw attention to her. Weird looks and cheap conversation seemed like it would be the last straw for her night.
Was this even worth it? She thought to herself, genuinely debating just going home. Something kept her there. Something was whispering to her across the breeze. Maybe I'll just step in to get out of the cold, she reasoned.
Her fingers landing on the door handle was what sealed her fate. She pulled back on it, feeling warm air flush onto her body. In she went.
The bar was quaint. She made sure she chose one far from where she could possibly run into someone. The last thing Min needed was for the pathetic retelling of her sitting alone at a bar to circulate through those whom she knew. Not that it would be that shameful. This wasn't a bad habit, she was just having a little drink like so many other people did. It was only her first time.
The neon sign outside was just foreshadowing for what was to come, as the room was alight in a rainbow haze, all sorts of neon lights dripping down the walls. The dark silhouettes of seated strangers were scattered about the spacey room, faces obscured by the shadows created by such bright backlighting.
Min stood still at the entrance, looking every bit out of place that a person possibly could. Her glittering eyes scanned the room from left to right, spotting a secluded seat at the bar which was right against the wall. Seemed like the most comfortable place to sit.
She waddled up to the counter, then struggled to get herself into the stool with her petite legs doing their best to raise her up onto the cushion. Once she was finally comfortable, Min folded her hands together and set them meekly on the bartop.
Her heart began to flutter as she noticed the bartender set his sights on her. This was it. He came over before long, smoothly setting a coaster in front of her.
"Hello, what are we having tonight?" He asked professionally, hands splayed on the counter as he leaned in.
Min pursed her lips, feeling as though any common sense had been caught in her throat, the only thing filtering out being a confession spoken with a stammer akin to a little girl's.
"I-I haven't drank before," She admitted quietly. The bartender nodded, unfazed by her sheepishness and lack of experience.
"Okay, well, I could make you something that tastes good, since you aren't used to how alcohol is," He offered with a helpful smile.
Min nodded, "Alright."
He jutted his chin toward her, "Could I see some ID?"
She yanked her denim wallet from her pocket, all of its charms and rhinestones scraping against the countertop as she wrestled her ID from its plastic slot. Eventually she handed it over to him before sheathing the ID and wallet once he was assured she was of age. Then he was off, leaving Min to herself.
Up until that point, she was desperately thwarting the feeling of guilt. It felt wrong to be doing what she was doing, sneaking off in the night, carefully premeditating where and when to have a drink so as not to be seen. Yet now that she was actually there and easing into a sense of comfort, she found there was a sort of solace in the anonymity of her sitting at that bar.
Not a soul there knew her name. She was no one. And she liked that, because then she could do as she pleased. She was claiming her slice of adult freedom.
The bartender quickly returned with a rim salted glass full of pink liquid. He popped a straw in it and waited there expectantly. Min allowed a little smile to take hold as she reached for the glass, sliding it close so she could wrap her lips around the straw, sucking in just enough of the drink to get a tiny taste.
What hit her tongue was pleasurable, to say the least. Sweet, fruity, with an underlining bite that she could only assume was the alcohol, though it was in no way bad. It complimented the mixture well. And so she looked up at him with a thankful grin.
"It's really good," She said, eliciting a pleased look from his face.
"It's better if you sip and get a little bit of the salt," He informed her. Min listened and pushed the straw away with her index finger, lifting the glass to her lips so that she could swipe some of the salt onto her tongue before tipping the cup back, flooding her mouth with a liberal amount of the cocktail that time. He wasn't wrong. There was a perfect unison between the salt and sweet drink, really pulling it all together.
Nodding, she set the glass down, staring at the ice that had now begun to peek out at her from the pink sea. "Definitely better," She told him.
"Great. Call if you need me," He said before gliding off to the other end of the bar. Min sat back in her stool before reaching for her drink again, enjoying the simple bliss that it was bringing her. Heat flushed onto her cheeks once the warm bar air finally weaved itself around her, getting rid of the last shivers of the nighttime cold. Between the music, the haze of neon, and the chatter about the room, Min felt… peaceful.
More salt on her tongue, another sip. She did this a few more times before realizing she'd finished her drink.
That didn't take long… She sourly thought. Oh well, it wasn't like she was hard up for money. She could afford to get another. Which, in the grand scheme of that nightly plan, she figured more drinks was inevitable, as she did want to forget about the day that she had endured.
So, when her eyes caught onto the bartender, she beckoned him over. He nodded at her to show his acknowledgment whilst he finished crafting a cocktail for some other person sitting at the opposite end.
Min sighed, staring at the empty glass in front of her. She analyzed the condensation, the chunks of ice, the bits of salt leftover on the rim, and the diluted remnants of the cocktail lining the base of the glass. She grabbed the cup and used the straw in order to suck up every last drop that remained. It didn't even taste good, too watery that it almost made it seem stale, but she did it anyway.
When the bartender finally returned, took her order for the same drink, then presented her with another full glass of sparkling pink moments later, Min latched onto the cup and eagerly swiped her tongue along the salt. Just as she went in for the sip, she warmly thought:
Here's to forgetting.
Meg's stomach was coiling in fear. No matter how invested she had become in searching every corner in that labyrinth for Dwight, she couldn't find him. Thinking about his chances of survival seemed grave, because she knew those black claws would soon be sprung out from the oozing vine that always snaked up the hooks. If it hadn't happened already, Meg knew she didn't have much time until it would inevitably lay claim to his pitiful, dangling body. Yet that was all hypothetical. She didn't even know if he had gotten hooked or not, she was simply preparing herself for the worst.
It wasn't until a nearly inaudible muttering fell onto her ears did Meg finally have a clue to Dwight's whereabouts. She followed the subtle noise, carefully stalking through the tiled halls until, alas, she saw him. Proven right in her prediction, Dwight was all but limp as he hung from the hook. Thankfully the black substance had only advanced to the top of the hook's main beam, not getting far enough to exact its cruelty on him.
"Thank God," She whispered under her breath, hurrying to his rescue. Once she was right in front of him, Meg realized that it was Dwight who was muttering so much, which was unlike him, as it was rather crazed and feverish sounding. Her eyes glanced over his face, finding that his lids were squeezed tightly shut and his features were all pinched in fear. Spit flew from his lips as he continuously whispered nonsense in one endless string.
"Dwight?" She said. Unfazed, he didn't cease his whisperings. That was when Meg reached out carefully, gently touching the bloodstained fabric of his pants, pushing further and further into his thigh until-
Dwight's eyes shot open at the pressure of her touch, and as soon as they locked onto her he began to shout wildly like she was attacking him. Meg reeled back in fright, watching him writhe on the hook like a madman. For a moment she was too shocked to even fathom what to do, until finally the girl pushed forward and grappled with him and his trashing before eventually managing to get him off the hook.
He was on his own two feet for only a moment, collapsing to the floor in a pained slump instantly. Meg went with him, holding him in a tight embrace all the way down. Huddled together on to the cold ground, she knew not what to make of the whole episode he was afflicted by. All Meg could do was hold him close, allowing him to shield his face against her collarbone while she had her hand clutched in his dark hair, the other firm against his shoulders, offering as much protection as she possibly could.
"It's okay, it's okay, everything's alright," She told him, over and over and over. Within a matter of one minute, his shuddering and incessant mutterings had ceased, all that was left being his tears that soon he wiped away. Before long, Dwight was slowly pulling away. Face to face, they stared at one another, Meg wearing a stressed look that rivaled even the one she sported while she was literally being flayed apart.
"What was that?" She asked upon a concerned and frightened whisper. He blinked rapidly, as if making sure that he was seeing things right. His eyes darted between her and the background in an attempt to ensure that they were safe and alone.
When a semblance of relief had flashed across his face, Dwight's body physically sank. "The voices… they were laughing at me," He confessed, sounding just as haunted as the look in his bloodshot eyes.
"What voices? What are you talking about?"
"He kept shocking me…" Dwight explained with a cracking voice, clenching his brows together as if he were recalling the events, "Everytime the voices would get louder and louder…" A relieved, shuddered sigh escaped him as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Meg, squeezing so tightly that she almost couldn't breathe, but she didn't care. He clearly needed her. So she embraced back, giving him a silent beat to gather himself before they would inevitably be thrust back into the chaos.
A short time later, they unraveled from each other and begrudgingly stood. They didn't go right away. Meg looked up at him, noticing that he was coiling in on himself, likely from shame for behaving so erratically earlier. It hurt her that he was so unsure of himself, so insecure. She wanted to be his safety, to be that person that he didn't need to keep his guard up for.
She reached out, grabbing his hand. From there, Meg latched her gaze onto his, staring at him softly yet intently, making sure that he didn't awkwardly advert his eyes.
"It's going to be okay," She assured him with a gentle nod. The crinkles around his eyes faded slightly, showing her that, while perhaps only a little, her words had eased some comfort into him.
He met her with his own nod, saying, "I know."
Despite the odds and the terror, they smiled at one another with a lingering sweetness before heading out into the hallway, wandering off into the unknown together.
On the final strike of the lever, Nea stood promptly, seeing as she had powered on yet another generator. But there wasn't room for her to revel in the triumph, as Nea had been feeling warped after the second shock she had endured earlier before Min had been chased off by the killer.
Her vision was blurring at the edges, and her damn eye wouldn't stop twitching from the lasting effects of the shock. The muscles of her body ached terribly, like she'd just spent a whole day exhausting herself in a gym.
With only a few steps taken to edge her way out of the looming and noisy room, Nea found that her body was so tired that she could've melted into a deep slumber right there on the floor. Of course, she couldn't do that, no matter how satisfying the thought was.
"What the fuck…" She muttered irritably to herself, despising the uncomfortable aches coursing through her. Before she could continue further and step into the great big hallway, Nea suddenly heard a sort of seething noise from behind her. It sounded like someone clenching their teeth together while trying to blow air out of their mouth. Since it was such a human sound, Nea nonchalantly turned around with the expectation that it would be an injured Min standing there-
WHAM!
Right across Nea's face was a deathly blow from the Doctor's steel baton, one of its sharp points completely shattering her teeth on the left side of her jaw. All she could register in the moment was the waterfall of blood flooding into her mouth and the subsequent crunch of her own enamel and sensitive roots between her gums. She tried retreating into the hallway but all that was executed was a stagger that landed her against the wall, where Nea then used her hands to propel herself away and into a sloppy run.
It wasn't enough to get away, in fact, it was a pitiful display. Too consumed by the surprising and jarring nature of the blow she'd taken, Nea couldn't put forth the effort to actually start a chase. Rather, all she did was make it a few feet before she heard the tell-tale sizzle of a shock being summoned. She cried out helplessly, feeling endless pools of blood drip from her mouth while her brain was scattered to bits with dizziness. The shockwave was released by the Doctor, seeping across the floor and right up into the conduit that was Nea's body.
As if the predicament couldn't have gotten any more grave, the girl was forced to scream as per the shock's demands, thus she began to choke on her own blood and teeth. The shock was over in an instant, however Nea had entered a new realm of terror. There was so much noise, like a warped droning frequency and static electricity, and the laughter!-
She clutched her hands over her ears while she sprinted, hardly being able to see where she was even going, yet within the short glimpses that she got of the hallway, Nea was beyond petrified to see that the Doctor was lurking around every corner that she sped past. The terror was immense, coursing through her like venom. All the girl could fathom was fear, and so she wailed the whole way down the hall until, finally, the Doctor's baton struck her from behind. It was swift in accomplishing its morbid goal, sending Nea to the floor by the sheer force behind the hit. Her hip throbbed and bled, yet it was an afterthought when in comparison to the derailment her mind had undergone.
Her screaming had stopped but her hands remained clutched over her ears nonetheless, still hearing the echoes of laughter, static and the bassy pulsating of her own heart.
Just up ahead, unknown to both Nea and the Doctor, was Meg and Dwight, who were crouched down in the same hallway as them, hiding behind a row of crooked waiting chairs. They had been traversing the hall in search of a generator when they were suddenly made aware of the Doctor's sinister presence, which had been prefaced by Nea's haunting screams that tunneled up the corridor. Having no time to move into one of the rooms, the pair scrambled to the chairs and hid there, silently witnessing Nea be knocked down by the Doctor through the thin cracks between the chairs.
From those same slats, their wide and horrified eyes followed the Doctor's movements as he scooped Nea up and slung her onto his shoulder. Much to their terror, he began to walk toward them. The pair ducked immediately. Meg's mouth fell open, doing her best to keep her breathing quiet and under control as she stared at the floor. For a brief moment, she glanced over her shoulder only to realize that there was a hook just behind them, only ten feet away. Her eyes returned to the floor, feeling panic rise in her chest. All it would take was the Doctor turning around and he would surely see them. Hell, if he had any peripheral vision then they'd undoubtedly be spotted as he walked by the chairs. Given that his lids were literally peeled away from his eyeballs, it was made all the more probable.
She turned her head slightly, looking at Dwight from the corner of her eye. He slowly peered over at her, face showcasing his unease. The Doctor's heavy footsteps were nearing, close enough so that when Meg ducked down and stared beneath the chairs, she could see his feet walking across the floor.
He was right there.
Just when he was about to be within their midst, he slipped into a room beside them instead of pursuing the hook just ahead. A relieved breath escaped Meg. She bowed her head down, thankful that, for whatever reason, the Doctor had chosen a different hook. Not a second later they heard Nea scream as she was strung up, the echoes of her poor and agonized voice sending chills across their bodies.
All seemed fine after Nea's cries faded, but then another sound began to filter into the air.
"No," Meg whispered in a panic. It was the humming of static, then the clearer and more defined zapping sound of sparks. It reached its climax, sending out a giant shockwave exactly like the one that she had been victim to in the beginning of that trial.
Meg and Dwight screamed together, forced to stand once the shock had zipped straight up their bodies. No sooner, the Doctor hurled out of the door which he had disappeared through previously, making a bloodthirsty dash toward the survivors whom he heard the cries of. They were practically pinned in their hiding spot, so as they ran out Meg was quickly met with a clobber from the baton of their fierce pursuer. She shouted in pain but continued to run, feeling blood pool just underneath the skin of her bicep.
Just like all the others, Meg was experiencing a bizarre dissociation from the second shock. As she ran, the girl kept blinking but discovered that there was an unwavering blur in her vision, making her feel forcefully separated from the present moment. Her body tingled, even felt numb in some places and her senses were dulled. The only thing she could focus on was the crude shape of Dwight who was running ahead of her. She figured that if she followed him then they would be alright.
That is until he was suddenly… gone? Just within a blink, he was nowhere to be seen. Meg looked around frantically while still running, realizing that he may have dipped into one of the rooms lining the hallway without her having noticed due to her creeping delirium.
Her lip began to quiver once the silence in the air felt as if it were encasing her. There never was any safety in the quiet of those trials. She slowed down to a jog once making a sloppy turn at the hallway corner, looking cautiously all around her which caused her head to feel like it was bobbling and disconnected from her body.
The skid of her sneakers announced her sudden halt as Meg stood in the middle of the hallway. She couldn't go on in her scattered state of mind. The girl pushed the heel of her palms into her eyes, determined to get rid of the blurriness that was disrupting her focus. There was something wrong with her, but she hadn't yet discovered that it was the shocks that were the culprit.
In the midst of the darkness caused by the rubbing of her eyes, Meg heard the whisper of a chuckle from behind her. Her heart nearly burst, recognizing that laughter. It was the same one from the campfire, when she had been holding open the metal door. It was the Doctor- He had been the one patrolling the woods.
The revelation was short lived, considering the danger had followed her trail rather than Dwight's.
Meg bolted just as she flung her hands away from her face, eyes struggling to readjust to the stale lighting of the hallway while she flew toward what was seemingly the front entrance to whatever medical establishment they were confined to. Interestingly enough, the exit gate was located there as well, something that she took note of. A quick peek over her shoulder confirmed that the Doctor was hot on her heels, the eerie, bulbous whites of his eyes nearly making her sick to the stomach.
She skidded around the reception desk, recognizing that there was a pallet innocently waiting there between the counter and a row of waiting chairs. Like she normally did, Meg bounced on her toes while inches away from the pallet, anticipating what the Doctor's move would be.
He neared the loop within a few seconds, a wet burst of air flying between his teeth marking his contempt for her. Those eyes… They were trained on her. Time seemed to slow. Meg locked onto him, her head moving to follow his disturbing gaze. At that oozing moment, she couldn't help but to have an out of body experience where she looked down upon their opposing forms, the bringer of doom and the unwilling victim. But the question was… Is he too a victim? She couldn't be sure. In fact, Meg knew just about nothing but the rules of their survival. Yet the question remained stained in her mind.
She really began to wonder why?
Not in the sad, desperate and beseeching way. But truly, why? Why were they chosen, the killers and survivors alike, to endure and be participants in these maddening, never ending trials? What qualifications, if any at all, had the killers met? Because there certainly seemed to be none for the survivors. They were torn from their lives at random. Normal humans who had been functioning in mundane reality. Yet their adversaries were freaks of nature. Monsters that only fiction could conjure. From what worlds had they been hailed? Meg supposed that her understanding of the world as she knew it couldn't have been fully complete, as clearly she herself was bound to a circumstance that was impossible sounding to any average person.
Perhaps monsters did just… exist. A part of her wanted to believe they were conjured up by whatever devilish hands held dominion over their hellish reality, yet she couldn't. And she didn't know why. Meg just felt like there was more to the story. There were the last wisps of humanity lurking around the trials, remnants of what could have been a less evil existence from their killers. She really noticed it with the Nurse. There was something else beyond the mindless violence with her. The details of the asylum felt intimately connected with Meg's world, even being confirmed by Nea, who had claimed she had been at the asylum before she was taken. It couldn't have just been a stage that was set by the grim ruler for no reason.
The trials had to be memories. And for there to be memories, there had to be some shred of humanity that once lived in those killers. There had to be. The thought hardly brought her any comfort, however Meg was satisfied that she had developed a promising theory.
As time fell back into motion, Meg sucked in a shot of air in order to purge her hazy brain of all its questions and ponderings. For another time, she assured herself. In the middle of a chase wasn't exactly the best time to play detective.
With her head back in the game, she dashed through the pallet without dropping it, figuring she had enough wiggle room to loop around the desk once more without any danger of tanking a hit. Her head continuously craned to peek at the Doctor, ensuring there was distance between them. Halfway to the pallet, Meg heard the sizzle of the air behind her, knowing a shock strike would be imminent. Pushing herself harder in order to avoid it, Meg pumped her legs and dashed up the hallway, choosing to abandon the pallet in favor of simply getting away from his radius.
When she looked over her shoulder, she saw the Doctor lower his arm as a flurry of sparks faded away, signaling to her that she had outsmarted him and his plan. Nevertheless, he wasn't done with her, as it seemed her slipping between his fingers only wet his appetite for violence further.
Another warbly laugh filtered between his gritted teeth just as he worked to lessen their distance once again. Meg knew running in a circle around the building's outer hallway wouldn't serve her any good, since she would remain in his eyeline at all times until he inevitably caught up. It would be smarter to just dive into the labyrinth of rooms that lied in the center.
So at the first doorway she came across, Meg slipped in and began to weave in and out of various rooms, all blurring together as she went. At one point the girl paused to listen and see if she could hear any footsteps, really anything at all that could indicate he was still pursuing her. Standing within a very long room with a grimy row of showers, Meg caught her breath and almost came to the conclusion that she had evaded the Doctor.
But then the air shifted… She heard the big shockwave being summoned. In a flash, Meg bolted out of the showers and back into the hall where she crammed herself in the farthest corner, hoping to God that the miniscule bit of distance would be enough for her to not be within the shock radius. The climax of the strike was announced in the form of a deafening bang and sizzle, sending out ripples of pain, which unfortunately were near enough to latch onto Meg.
She screamed in utter agony. Unlike all the other times, once the shock was over, there was no sense of relief. As Meg opened her eyes again, she cried out in fear at seeing the Doctor looming right above her as she was huddled in the corner. With little sense, she threw herself around him and back into the corridor, sprinting wildly away. She tripped over nearly every obstacle that she faced as the Doctor's sinister form kept popping up at random, frightening her again and again. The worst part was the taunting of his deafening laughter. It felt less like it was going through her ears, rather it was rattling through her brain.
In the midst of being bombarded by the hallway teeming with the Doctor's harrowing image, Meg was overcome by a heart stopping thumping noise. It was so loud and bassy that she nearly lost her mind while she twirled in the hall, trying desperately to locate where to go, where to possibly seek safety.
Suddenly, she was tackled to the floor in one harsh crash. Through the immediate thrashing she initiated, all Meg could see was the insane whites of the Doctor's exposed eyes right in front of her. The terror had never been so potent within her. At the top of her lungs, she screamed and cried, begging for help from anyone, even pleading for mercy despite the odds being far from her favor. The wild display lasted only a second longer until it all came to a throttling end once Meg felt the sharp, reality inducing sting of a slap across her face.
The laughter, the static and the incessant thumping sifted out from her brain, being paved over by the innocuous beat of generator pistons and the scrambling of people around her.
"Get off of her," Someone possessively demanded from above Meg.
"I had to-"
"Please, just move."
"Whatever, she's quiet now. Anymore of that and he'd be coming. Still might be. Don't take long, we need to finish this."
Meg blinked, eyes so wet with tears that she needed to wipe at them a few times in order to restore her vision back to normal. Her hot, puffy face ached badly from screaming so much. After a moment of gathering herself, she finally analyzed the scene before her, thankfully being met with Dwight's big, worried eyes.
"He gotcha, didn't he?" He asked her softly, recognizing her madness to be the same one he'd been afflicted by previously. Meg nodded, taking in a deep breath. Being on the other side of the freight train that had terrorized her, it was clear that she had been put into a mad episode by the shocks. In the heat of the moment, however, it seemed so real and scary.
With the help of Dwight, Meg sat up. Just a few feet in front of them was Min and Nea who were working on a generator that only had a quarter to go.
"How many more?" Meg asked.
"This is the last one," Min answered coldly, then glared at Dwight, "She can handle herself. Come finish this."
Dwight glanced at Meg after Min's stern behest, giving her a peeved raise of his brow whilst he sighed and meekly strode over to the generator, hopping back onto the wiring side. There was only room for three people to work on it, so Meg awkwardly sat there and watched them. She noticed that there was a puddle of saliva and blood beside Nea, a couple jagged teeth sitting in the middle of the glittering wetness. Every few seconds she would spit into the small pool, constantly purging her mouth of the blood that was leaking into it like water from a broken pipe.
Meg grimaced. She instinctively wanted to ask if Nea was okay, though knew it was best to just leave her alone. She probably couldn't even talk with the amount of damage her teeth had undergone.
Standing up, Meg stretched her arms above her head, deciding to patrol around the group in order to spot the danger, should it find them. The relief of at least having a clearer mind had the girl eager to see the trial's end, giving her a boost in confidence that they would make it. With the roaring of the last generator behind her, Meg was primed and ready to go.
Moments from the completion of the generator, the group's ears perked at the distant whisper of laughter, coming from somewhere within the endless connection of rooms. Meg focused, carefully stepping around to get different angles on the rooms they were nearest to, but couldn't seem to spot the Doctor. Surely he had to be close.
Behind her, the generator was sprung to life. Dwight and Nea moved to her side while Min immediately began to run up the hallway when!-
WHAM!
"Ah!" Min's shout echoed a short distance away, causing the trio to snap their heads in her direction. By then she was already stumbling back to them, nursing a gaping, bloody hole in the center of her chest. Close behind was the Doctor, trailing after his victim.
Min being Min, she shot daggers at her companions and growled, "What are you doing? Run!"
With her being right behind them, the rest hauled ass up the hallway. But they weren't going toward the exit. Meg knew it was somewhere along the outer edge of the building, however they weren't going to be able to make it there unscathed, as by then the Doctor would certainly catch up.
Speaking of the devil, the Doctor was summoning his electricity right behind them. It didn't have the same volume as the big shockwave, so it must have been just one of the little ones. Nevertheless, it was still a force to be reckoned with. As the shock was unleashed like a bloodhound, it caught Min and Nea in its teeth, causing them to stiffen and shout. Their legs couldn't move like normal in that flashing moment, so they fell behind a fair amount.
Looking over her shoulder, Meg winced as she watched the Doctor give Nea a mighty blow across her shoulder, sending the girl into a stumble as her blood splattered across Min, who only was a few inches ahead of her.
Unbeknownst to everyone, Min gritted her teeth and decided to gamble her odds at getting out of the grim situation they were in. She slipped into the first door she spotted and continued running, an action that was either ignored or simply went unnoticed by the Doctor. There were three other victims right in front of him, easy targets to brutalize. With Min gone, he set his crazed sights on Nea, who was beginning to lag backwards by the grips of pain and exhaustion.
She was aware of it too. So as she ran, her face twisted up in fear with her eyes leaking desperate tears. Her legs felt like jelly. The high number of shocks and injuries were really taking their toll on her ability to perform basic functions. She didn't want to go out like this. She couldn't.
But it wasn't up to her.
With her in close proximity to the beast, the Doctor swung once more, that time landing a bone-crushing smack on Nea's hip. She went crashing to the floor like a ragdoll, shouting and crying in pain after hearing the devastating crack of her pelvic bone.
Meg swung her head over her shoulder, wide eyes assessing Nea and the Doctor, having expected to see him swooping her up onto his shoulder. But he was abandoning Nea in favor of continuing to chase her and Dwight. Greedy bastard.
"Keep running," Meg rasped out between pants. Once they pushed up the hallway and rounded the corner, Meg recognized the front reception area she'd been at before with the Doctor, which also meant the exit gate was just ahead. As relieving as that sounded, they were going to have to figure out how to keep the Doctor distracted while one of them got the gate opened. Given that Meg knew she could give a pretty good runaround, she figured that Dwight should be the one to worry about the gate.
"Up ahead, to the left, that's the gate," She told him between her well rehearsed breaths from all those years of track, "Open it while I deal with him."
"Copy that," Dwight hoarsely responded, clearly struggling with the sprint he was engaged with. "Be careful!"
"Yeah, go!" Meg told him as she slowed ever so slightly so that the Doctor would set his sights on her, giving him the false hope that she was growing tired and would be an easy target. In front of her, Dwight slipped through the archway leading into the reception area and disappeared off to the left. Perfect.
The next matter up for debate was how far away she should stray from the gate with the Doctor. She didn't want to sabotage herself and end up too out of range, but she didn't want to loop around the reception desk that was right in front of the gate because there would be a chance that the Doctor would catch wind of Dwight opening it up and then he would be cornered out there.
So Meg sped up to the desk and hooked a right, which led her back toward the big, lit up room that sat in the center of the building. By that point, the Doctor was right on her. Her eyes scoured the room, having to focus through the haze of so much glowing light. She spotted a pallet on the outer edge of the room. With no other choice, she ran to it and immediately dropped it. As soon as it cracked down, the Doctor went to work breaking it into splintering pieces by the fearsome force of his boot.
Wasting no time, she took off and vaulted through a window that saw into a room connected to the big one. Everything was a blur as she shot through multiple open doorways, which landed her back out in the main hallway. The reception desk wasn't too far ahead, she being on the other side of it this time. Full sprinting up to it, Meg had the intention to go right for the gate, which she could hear was on its final buzz before opening, but she came to the slamming realization that Nea was still incapacitated further up the hallway.
A frightened gasp hitched in her throat as she slowed by the desk, eyes scouring up ahead. No Nea. She had to still be back where the Doctor took her down.
The metallic scraping of the gate opening had the girl slowly reeled outside, where she reconvened with Dwight.
"Nea's still in there," She told him urgently. They both walked back into the building but were met with the last thing they wanted to see. The Doctor stood before them, readying his electric shock. Meg believed it to be the smaller variant until the exponential climb lasted a little too long.
They had already been taking cautious steps away when he unleashed the shock, which tore through their bodies like it had done a dozen times that trial. Once their screams were fulfilled and the pain was through, Meg and Dwight sourly watched as the Doctor pushed forward, thus backing them into the exit gate.
Her heartbeat was through the roof. Not from the Doctor, but because she was conceptualizing what was about to happen: They were being forced to leave yet another teammate behind. It made her feel sick. She didn't want to imagine Nea lying there on the cold floor, bloody and crying, vulnerable to the beast. Min was still out there too. The only shining glimmer of hope, really. Maybe Min went back for Nea as soon as Meg and Dwight took the Doctor away.
"We can't do anything-" Dwight said aloud, speaking on both their thoughts while they were corralled to the very edge of the fog that lay at the end of the gate. The Doctor pressed even more, like he wanted them to leave so that he could go back to maim his other victims in peace.
With a defeated sigh, Meg said, "I know."
As the Doctor was within his last foot of them before violent contact could be made, the two survivors seeped into the fog, the echoes of the Doctor's deranged laughter being the taunting of regret, which weighed their shoulders down as they milled through the darkness.