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As she runs through the exit gate, taking shallow breaths and closing her eyes, Emma Woods realizes that she has long given up on true escape. All the rounds blur together, so many that records of her games have filled up many shelves in the lobby. And yet, in every game she won, running out of that gate, free from the hunter, free from the map, she still ended up back in the manor.
No matter which map she started on, there were only three possible exits: the two gates and that dungeon. She and the others have tried to find another way out, hoping for cracks along the borders, dragging out games, climbing the structures, searching for something, anything other than the doors that provided a only false sense of freedom.
All they ever found were disappointments. A sharp warning from the manor’s owner had stopped them from searching anymore. After a few, more unrestrained attempts (they may have broken a few structures), the owner had lost patience. The day after that, the survivors found a detailed letter of what would happen if they tried looking again. It included a threat that no one left the manor without their permission.
Emma hasn’t been punished yet, but the word itself brought cruel flashes of memory. Horror stories of people disappearing that were passed down from the older survivors ensured that she wouldn’t try finding another escape. None of them knew the extent of the owner’s power, or how they kept all of them trapped in this perpetually dark manor, illuminated only by the occasional storm. It sure seemed like they wouldn’t be discovering it soon.
And with a flash of lightning, Emma opens her eyes. Back in her room. In the manor. Like always. She couldn’t lie though. She was getting used to all of this. Apart from the pain of being ripped apart by blades, glass, even a stupid umbrella, the chase could be fun! Just an extreme game of tag, that’s all it was. Some days she even found herself craving the adrenaline rush, ready to run to dinner, even though it was just down the hall.
The wounds were only pain and disappeared unless you were chaired. The fear had begun to wear out with time. Her heart still pounded, but now it was only a reaction manufactured by the game. And when she was found at a cipher, her eyes lit up with excitement. Decoding was just so boring, especially compared to the intensity of the chase.
Life in the manor wasn’t too bad either, if she avoided all the people she didn’t like (which was easy, with all the cabinets to hide in) and just spent all her time with Emily. Oh, Emily, her angel.
Emily made everything so much better. She protected her in the hallways and healed her in the games. Her hands spoke of promises, fingers whispering with their delicate touch. They cried for her attention, and there were too many times where she failed a calibration, so focused on watching her decode. Wondering when she could hold them.
Matches with Emily were the worst. Her cries of pain echoed far longer in Emma’s head, reminding her of a time that she couldn’t quite remember. She needed to protect her, the way Emily was so strong for her. But sometimes she could only watch helplessly from the wrong broken chair as Emily is sent back into the manor. Whenever Emma came back from those matches, she’d be eager to help Emily, full of energy regardless of her own state. All Emily did was prescribe herself rest, with Emma by her side, of course. Maybe...
Matches with Emily were the best. Emma would run behind Emily, protecting her from being downed, and they’d run into fields filled with smiling sunflowers. She’d watch Emily’s hair glow golden in the sun as she ran after her. She never really left those fields, and even though she was being ripped open by a blade, Emma could still feel the warmth. Sunflowers continued to dance in the corner of her eye while she led the hunter away from Emily, giving her a chance to heal herself.
She made a quick grab at a few sunflowers once. She went down almost immediately, but clutched onto those stems while carried away. For Emily, she promised, even as she went flying. It was all ok. She had the flowers, and she was chaired to protect Emily.
Still limping, Emma gripped her gift and waited at Emily’s door for her to come back. She was okay with waiting, okay with anything for Emily. So, she traced the worn wood of the doors with her eyes. It became one giant blurred mass as she listened for her angel.
A pained gasp told her that she didn’t escape. It was all for her gift though, it’ll make everything better! Emma arranged the flowers so they’d be more presentable and knocked on the door. Emily opened the door and Emma pushed her bouquet towards her. They promptly dissolved into the floor.
She knew those flowers weren’t real. Emily told her that they weren’t real. Yet she still couldn’t stop the tears that dripped past her smile. She’d ruined the entire game. For a pointless gift that had never existed. She followed the phantom flowers into the ground, sobbing messily, apologizing over and over.
Emily had hugged her, crying too, but Emma wasn’t sure why. They stayed there on the floor for a good part of the night, trying to enjoy each other through the pain. They had healed the day after, and Emma couldn’t remember how it felt to cry anymore.
Being healed by Emily in the manor was better than anything else here. She may have purposefully sacrificed herself once or twice… She just needed to feel those gentle hands meticulously work over her wounds. It was always more intimate in the manor. She was healed today too!
She hid in a corner after being hit and Emily had found her. They were so close together. Although she’s been healed so many times before, Emily’s touch still increased her heart rate. When they were done, Emma grabbed Emily’s hands as a thank you, but Hell Ember had shown up, ruining the moment. She didn’t even realize he was there until the red light was already on them, her heart distracted by Emily’s touch.
He decided to chase after Emily, but dropped a doll to chase her. It wasn’t too hard to lose it, after vaulting a few windows, the doll had lost her. For some reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Something about it was familiar, like she’d seen it before the manor. There was no way though, it probably had to be all Hell Ember matches they’ve played.
She considered asking the others, but she’d probably be brushed off. Some things no one talked about, like the familiar maps, the way no one aged anymore, the strange shadows that crawled up and down the lobby, the way new people came but never left....
But Emma has Emily, the one she now calls home, in the manor, so it can’t be so bad to stay here for an eternity, would it?