Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One moment he was pushing his way through the crowd, the next was darkness.
Darkness so deep it felt like it clung to every crevice of his mind like molasses.

It felt like forever being in a confused daze, but soon, he registered the smell of smoke and dust. He cracked his eyes open and his vision was filled with violet light. He tried to lift his head up and look around only to feel an ache at the base of his neck. He blinked, trying to clear up the blurriness of his vision as he let his head rest against the hard ground beneath him.

What… happened?

Memories began coming back to him, albeit slowly. The vents, running into the waiters, hiding in that seedy room… Almost getting caught.

Awareness hit him like a brick as his vision immediately came back into focus. They ran into the main room, then there was chaos, Azrael was there, the explosions- Where are Shane and Ollie?-

Sawyer tried to move and put his arms under his body to push himself up, but he was suddenly immobilized by excruciating pain down the left side of his body. He clenched his jaw against the pain, lifting his head back up to look down at himself. There was a large slab of concrete pinning him to the ground on his left side from shoulder down. A part of catwalk along the walls had also broken off next to him and was the only thing stopping the slab of concrete from crushing him to death.

That didn’t explain the pain he experiencing though.

Sawyer tried to move his right arm, which was luckily free from the debris, and attempted to drag himself out from under the wreckage, only to feel something digging into his side.

“Agh, shit.” He rasped, his throat sore and dry from the dust in the air.

He looked around, trying to find something to help him get out of this mess when he heard a scratching sound on the slab above him. He froze, trying to discern what it was when the concrete chunk started to move off of him, pulling slightly at the pained area in his left side.

“Shane?” Sawyer called out, “Ollie??”

A creaking sound caught his attention as the crumpled up catwalk that had saved his life from the concrete slab began to come loose, the weight of the slab no longer holding it in place as it began to fall off balance towards him.

“WAIT!” Sawyer shouted, though his voice came out weak and strained, “a part of the catwalk came loose, s’gonna fall on me!”

Whoever was pulling the slab away seemed to not hear him, or more like didn’t even care as the slab was fully lifted away and the catwalk began to fall. Sawyer outstretched his right arm, catching the hunk of metal before it fell and pinned him back down.

Whoever moved the slab had not come into view yet, but he heard more scratching sounds and- screaming?

Sawyer coughed as he tried to move his left arm that was now no longer pinned down by the slab. He managed to grab ahold of the damaged catwalk and push it off of him so he finally assess his wounds before going to look for his companions.

He tried to sit up, feeling that same tugging pain in his side and as he looked down and saw that a piece of rebar had impaled him when the slab fell. Said rebar had been yanked out by the slab falling away, but Sawyer had been too preoccupied by the falling catwalk to notice.

He definitely noticed now.

Sawyer gritted his teeth as the pain raced through his body as he tried to sit up. He felt fresh warm blood seep from his wound as he moved, the pain spreading a haze across his vision and consciousness. He froze for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before leaning forward a little bit more.

A sharp pain he felt in his left thigh was not what he was expecting. He couldn’t help the shout of shock and pain as what felt like electricity travelled through his bones and stopped him from moving even an inch. He didn’t dare move for several precious ticks, taking a few breaths before trying to sit up so he could stand again. He might a well have been shot as the pain travelled up his leg and prompted a pained snarl to crawl out from his throat.

He hung his head, his face twisted in a wince as the agony lingered. His leg had to be broken to hurt like this but he didn’t have a choice right now. He had to move.

Then heard the scratching sound from earlier begin to creep towards him again. He was certain it couldn’t have been Ollie or Shane, they would have immediately come up to him by now, not… disappear…

He willed himself to move against the pain as he pushed himself up. The pain was like a weight being pressed onto him, sapping his energy and trying to drag him into unconsciousness.

The scratching sound was closer now as Sawyer collapsed back onto his back, panting against the pain racing through his body. He couldn’t push himself up, and he doubted he could even walk. It was difficult enough to walk on one injured leg, impossible to walk on two, one screwed up at the joint and the other having a definitely broken femur.

He desperately looked around, searching for anything he could use as a crutch or two so he could get on his feet when he felt something hot and sticky drop on his face. At the corner of his eye, Sawyer saw long deathly pale fingers, dripping with blood. A maw of teeth in it’s palm with a bloodshot eye in it started at him curiously before snarling and encroached upon him.

Sawyer threw his hand out and grabbed a short piece of the metal catwalk that had broken off and hurled it like a hammer at the eldritch thing. The hand shrieked as Sawyer continued to viciously beat it, ignoring his own pain in favor of staying alive.

Apparently the hand didn’t like it when it’s prey fought back as it retreated back away from him.

Sawyer struggled to stay awake through the pained haze, as he hurriedly grabbed another piece of catwalk. Using one piece he hoisted himself up, putting as much weight as he dared to on the metal beam while keeping weight off his left leg and minimizing the weight on his right. He put the other, shorter piece of metal, which happened to have a bent end, under his left arm to use as a crutch.

The procession was slow, but he was getting away from the main fight. He blinked past the haze of pain and blood loss, willing himself to stay awake to find Shane and Ollie. He clung to the shadows at the edges of the room to avoid being spotted as he scanned the carnage taking place for any signs of his companions.

All he saw, was Azrael up on the execution stage with a massive tear in reality behind him as a writhing mass of hands, eyes and gnashing teeth poured out. Across the room, Outcry members were hunting down the gala attendees and staff who were running or hiding in the rubble scattered across the room. He… He couldn’t see Ollie or Shane.

Sawyer grimaced as he leaned against a wall bathed in darkness. Trying to hobble around with most of the stress being put on his upper body was draining the last of his energy reserves. With the killings happening mere meters away from him along with the fact Azrael may still be out to avenge Charlotte Perry’s death for whatever reason, if he didn’t find the others, he was going to die here.

He made to take a step forward when the short beam of metal he was using as a crutch suddenly bent in half at a notch that had been torn into it when the catwalk it was attached to fell. Sawyer dropped to his hands and knees, pain radiating from side, his old right knee injury and his broken left leg. He sucked in air through his clenched teeth as he tried not to make a noise-

“There’s another one here”

…

SHIT

Sawyer looked up to see two Outcry members walking towards him, both holding knives dripping with blood. Sawyer gritted his teeth, not today. He tried his best to block out the pain as he rolled over on his side in the same motion as he yanked the pistol out of the holster on his left leg.

He shot before he got a clear shot on the two, the first bullet going wide and grazing the first one across the shoulder while the second shot hit the injured person dead center of the visor of their mask. However, before Sawyer could aim at the other one, a dark shadow stepped behind them with a leg broken off of one of the tables. The shadow swung the improvised weapon at the head of the second Outcry member, dropping them like a sack of potatoes.

Sawyer barely stopped himself from squeezing the trigger as he looked up at his unknown savior, he squinted at the shadow from where he was on ground, “Shane?” he asked.

The figure dropped the wooden beam and stepped closer, causing Sawyer to grip his pistol in anticipation.

“Yeah, it’s me, you look like shit.”

Sawyer let out a sigh, his body relaxing in relief at recognizing the voice. “And I bet yer fine.” He grumbled, earning a huff from Shane.

“C’mon, we’ve worn out our welcome here” Shane spoke as he hooked an arm under Sawyer’s right arm to haul him up. Sawyer’s eyes widened, “wait, Shane wait, MY LEG!” he almost shouted before Shane pulled him to his feet.

“Quiet! Do you want to get caught?” Shane hissed, “Whaddya mean yer leg?”

“It’s broken” Sawyer replied, “I can’t walk, Shane.”

“aw FUCK” Shane swore, “yer bleedin too”
Shane stepped away for a moment, grabbing a tablecloth that was on the floor which he tore in half as Sawyer holstered the revolver in his hand.

“Shane where’s Ollie” Sawyer asked through a wince as Shane pulled his shirt up and wrapped the improvised bandage around the wound. “Uhh, he’s… just… he’s findin a way out” Shane stammered, his usually smug and indifferent front crumbling for a moment before he pulled himself together. It was a quick action, but Sawyer saw it.

He fixed Shane with an intense glare, “Where is Ollie?” he spoke again, dread pooling in his gut.

Shane didn’t even bother to answer this time as he tied off the bandage.

He was about to pull away when Sawyer grabbed his arm, “Shane M’not asking again.” He watched as Shane ground his teeth together, clearly trying to find the right words so as not to set him off. “It happened so fast, he wanted to help you but I pulled him away.” Shane spoke matter-of-factly, “the explosions…”

Sawyer tried to look Shane in the eye, “what?” he asked but Shane didn’t finish. “WHAT?” Sawyer growled as Shane pulled his arm free from his grip. Sawyer snarled, glaring at Shane who simply crossed his arms. “We have to leave” Shane spoke, “If we don’t then-”“Damn you” Sawyer hissed as he pushed himself up.

“Sawyer, we’re going to die here… At least you are!” Shane tried to reason as Sawyer grabbed onto the other beam of metal he used as a crutch. “You might be fine with leavin’ him, I’m not.” He growled.

“Sawyer” Shane tried, but Sawyer ignored him as he limped along, using the beam and the wall to support him. “SAWYER” Shane hissed, “Where is he?” Sawyer growled. “SAWYER HE’S-” Shane began before he realized he just wasn’t going to win. Nothing he said, nothing short of knocking Sawyer out was gonna get him out of that room without his friend. “he’s… not far from here” Shane spoke as Sawyer moved ever so slowly away. “but Sawyer we can’t stay…” Shane spoke, the repeated words dying in his mouth as he watched Sawyer move away.

Sawyer inched his way along the wall, deciding to focus on the physical pain coursing through his body rather than the pain that was cold, sharp, that dug deeper than anything he thought he’d feel before. They’d faced more insane things in their lives, they’ll survive this, they’ll regroup, they’ll make it out alive.

He hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking until there was a loud shout and the faint sound of breaking glass. He slowly raised his head, his mind was buzzing and… he felt numb.

Some bumped into his shoulder, and he realized it took too long to register that it was Shane, gripping his arm, saying something to him. His words were muffled in his ears, a faint jargon compared to the buzzing taking up his head. He happened to look over Shane’s shoulder, a distant and unfocused stare caused by blood loss and disassociation, when his eyes, caught something.

It was a knife, used to be, it’s blade broken in two where it lay. A few feet away, there was a hand,  obscured by the rubble, lying lifeless on the floor.

The buzzing grew ever louder in Sawyer’s head as he began to try and push past Shane, who was confused at first, before looking at where Sawyer’s eyes were transfixed. Shane tried to push Sawyer along, away from it, but the damage was done.

“Get offa me,” Sawyer slurred, shoving Shane to the side as he stumbled forward towards the pile of rubble. He ignored the pain in his leg and side as he pulled himself along the ground, he reached the knife and the hand just as he felt Shane try and grab him the shoulders to pull him away.

He couldn’t mistake it. Green eyes glazed over, blonde hair, a scar on his left eyebrow…

“Ollie,” Sawyer spoke, shaking his friends shoulder, “Wake up… OLLIE…”

Oh fate… no…

“Sawyer, he’s gone” Shane spoke.

Sawyer shoved off Shane’s hands and started pushing rubble off his friend’s body. “We’re gonna get outta here…” he spoke, “together-”

“SAWYER!” Shane shouted and Sawyer froze.

“Goddamn you.” Sawyer spoke, his voice barely audible, “We were never s’pposed to come here…”

Shane squawked, “and yet you fuckin wanted to stay!”

“Because YOU DID FIRST!” Sawyer roared, “YOU WANTED TO STAY AND I JUST WANTED TO KEEP US ALL ALIVE!!!”

 Shane went still and looked away while Sawyer hung his head. There were sounds of a struggle closer to the stage as the noise of people begging for their lives and the tear began to die down significantly, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore. Sawyer felt Shane pull his left arm over his shoulder and haul him up. Sawyer winced from the pain but said nothing. He could barely walk, and he realized, even if they could dig Ollie out… they couldn’t bring him… home…

The realization hit Sawyer like a sledgehammer, draining all the fight right out of him. There was nowhere to go but home now. Take the others and flee from this now cursed colony and its resident god.

Shane helped Sawyer towards one of the exits of the gala room, only to find a pile of collapsed rubble in its place. “SHIT!” Shane swore, setting Sawyer down and  looking over the pile of debris that was once an exit point. “Okay, there’s an opening here, I think I can go in and pull ya through-”

Shane was cut off by a throwing knife hitting the wall less than a foot away from his head.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the muffled voice of an Outcry member snarled as they held up another knife in their hand.

Shane turned to face them, his hands up in a clearly false placating manner. “Figured we weren’t welcome in the festivities anymore, so we thought we’d see ourselves out.” He spoke.

Suddenly, before the Outcry member could respond or attack, a gunshot rang out. They were hit in the shoulder as both the Outcry member and Shane snapped their heads to where Sawyer had pulled his revolver out again and was aiming at the Outcry member. The Outcry member threw the knife just as Sawyer fired again, the bullet killing the hostile while the knife knocked the revolver out Sawyer’s hand and out of reach.

“Fuck,” Sawyer hissed weakly. Shane immediately grabbed him up, prompting another curse as the movement jostled his injured leg and strained his side. Sawyer looked up as Shane half dragged him towards the small crawl space in the exit and saw several of Azrael’s followers start walking in their direction with the god being himself staring right at him.

“They’re comin” Sawyer spoke.

Shane hissed a curse, “they heard yer gun stupid, now how’re we gonna get outta here?”

Sawyer thought for a moment as Shane backed into the crawl space and prepared to try and pull Sawyer through. “Hold on, my coat might catch on somethin” Sawyer spoke.

“You- WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS, SAWYER” Shane snapped, stress lacing his voice. “Fucks sake just help me get it off,” Sawyer growled as he pulled a glove off with his teeth. Shane snarled and grumbled but ultimately relented, pulling Sawyer’s coat off him and tucking it behind him in the hole.

“OKAY, can you please just let me get ya outta there now?” Shane grumbled as he turned back around.

The pile of debris suddenly shifting caused him to freeze mid movement. “Sawyer it’s collapsing! We have to hurry” Shane shouted frantically before it shuddered again and the part of the tunnel leading to the gala room turned slaughterhouse collapsed enough to stop anyone from getting through. “Sawyer!” Shane shouted, pressing his face up against the small opening, “I- WHAT DID YOU DO, ARE YOU MAD?!”

“You hafta hurry” Sawyer said, as he collapsed back down after pulling the debris free and giving Shane a chance at escaping.

Shane went still, “What?”

“I can’t walk Shane, my knee’s actin’ up and my other leg’s broken.” Sawyer spoke, “I’m injured bad and we don’t have the medical supplies for it back at the chapel.”

“But- We’ll find a way! We always do!” Shane growled.

“Not this time” Sawyer spoke, “We’re not all makin it home…”

There was an eerie silence before Sawyer continued, “Get Sid and Dusty away from Shiloh, Shane… Julian too if ya can, just… get them away from here.”

“I…” Shane began but the words died on his tongue.

“Shane GO!” Sawyer roared and Shane flinched.

“I heard something, over there!”

“Sawyer we-…. GODDAMMIT!” Shane snarled, finally relenting as he crawled out of the debris clutching at Sawyer’s coat. “You…” Shane shook his head, “stubborn sunnuvabitch” he muttered before he took off running.

Back in the gala room, Sawyer shook the daze out of his head, unholstering his remaining gun which he held with a shaking right hand. The silhouettes outcry members were closer now, he could kill six of them and that’d be it. That’d… be the end… of…

He shook the thoughts out of his mind as he brought his gun up with both hands, struggling to take aim he curled his finger around the trigger and fired. One of the shadows dropped while the others ducked for cover.

“Shit! They have a gun”

“How?!”

Sawyer pulled the hammer back on the revolver and fired again when one of the shadows poked their heads out.

“NO!”

Two down…

Sawyer repeated the process and fired again, the shot hitting an Outcry member in the shoulder instead of the head. His arms were getting heavy, as were his eyelids and his breathing was getting labored. Just… one… more…

He raised his gun again as the darkness encroached on his vision, drowning him. Just one goddammit…

Before he could pull the trigger, his fingers went numb as his vision went totally black. The revolver clattered to the floor as he slumped against the debris pile at the exit, falling deep into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

She expected things to go very wrong from the get go.
They didn’t know what they were walking into or what Azreal had exactly planned for the gala, but she knew something would go wrong somehow and it had gone wrong way worse than she expected.

She gripped the neck of the broken wine bottle in a vice like grip as she stared up at Azrael on the stage as the creatures poured out from the tear behind him. She had one shot at this, end it now before anyone else gets hurt by him tonight. She sprinted towards the god at full speed, raising her hand with the broken bottle over her head.

Out of sheer luck or just blinding pride on Azrael’s part, nobody noticed Chloe charging upon the entity until it was too late.

With a loud yell, she smashed the bottle on the crown of the god’s head, causing him to keel over with a growl as he clutched his head in his hands, bloody scythe falling to the floor. Chloe felt rough gloved hands harshly grab her arms but she didn’t care. The bastard… she thought, if only she could take up the scythe in her own two hands now…

The two Outcry members held her firmly as Delilah materialized from the shadows, walking past the tear and it’s creatures as if they were a daily occurrence. “Sir, are you alright?” Chloe barely heard her ask. Azreal reached out with one hand and pushed her away, “I am fine” he spoke, reaching out with his other hand to take up his scythe that he dropped as he stood upright. “Such a foolish decision, both coming here and attacking me” Azrael spoke as he approached Chloe, who struggled against the hold of the Outcry members at her sides. “but I should have known. Someone with your relentless tenacity wouldn’t just stand by and watch would you?” he asked, stopping to her level.

“You’re a murderer!” Chloe spat, “Says the failed Underwarden” Delilah sneered from her position behind the god and Chloe glared at her. “Says the god’s doll on a string” Chloe growled.

“ENOUGH” Azrael roared, “Your actions here tonight have changed nothing, Chloe. You should clearly see that.”

The echo of gunshots resounded through the room, “Sir, it’s coming from one of the collapsed exits” Delilah spoke, “Investigate it, now.” Azrael ordered and the henchwoman bowed at the waist and left.

“As for you,” Azrael spoke, turning back to Chloe, “What did you think you would even accomplish, coming here?” Chloe looked at him with a fierce glare, “I didn’t anymore people to die.” Azrael huffed, “Clearly you failed that attempt” he spoke and Chloe looked away. “I told you that there was nothing you could do to change the fact you are bound to the Outcry, I would have excused your coming here despite me telling you not to, but attempting to attack a god, your god, does not go unpunished.”

Soon, Delilah returned, a smug smirk played across her face as she approached the god. “You won’t believe this sir, but someone has come to this gala to see you.”

Chloe’s eyes widened when she saw what Delilah held in her hand. She recognized the sleek silver barrel and wood handle of the revolver that the henchwoman held up for Azrael to see. “Hmph, it seems someone has come here to act on revenge, but it seems their luck has run out.”

Two Outcry members approached the stage, they were struggling to haul the man between them with them before unceremoniously dropping him at Azrael’s feet, the angry red spectral mark on the back of his neck clearly visible. “It seems we get to eradicate yet another vermin from our streets.” Azrael spoke as Delilah gave a signal to one of the outcry members who then harshly kicked the man in the stomach.

Blood red eyes snapped open, the man’s face contorting in agony as he curled into himself with a snarl. “How extremely foolish of you to come back into this colony after the warning I gave you, Marked Man.” Azrael spoke.

Sawyer gritted his teeth together, “fuck… you…” he hissed.

Delilah motioned to the Outcry member again and Sawyer was kicked in the stomach a second time. He cried out in pain before grabbing the Outcry member’s foot with both his hands and twisted it to the side.

The man fell down with a cry as Sawyer attempted to grab at his throat. More Outcry members flooded onto the stage and pulled Sawyer away, some of them raining blows on him while others stopped him from retaliating.

Chloe was motionless in her captor’s grasp and she couldn’t help but wince as the mob of Outcry members beat the Marked Man down.

“Enough,” Azrael spoke and the sound of blows subsided.

The eerie silence drowning Chloe as the brutality came to an abrupt halt. Sawyer curled in onto himself, his body shaking from the bruises and injuries caused by the blast and the beatings.

“Did you think,” Azrael asked Chloe, tilting his head, “that your feeble attempts at heroism would lead to anything but your downfall? You were always meant to fail.” He stepped forward, a god in his own right, basking in the power he held over his people.

Chloe felt anger rise within her chest. “I may be bound to your whims, Azrael, but unlike what you believe, I will not stop fighting against you. I won’t let you take any more lives.” She strained against the grip of her captors, eyes darting towards Sawyer, who lay weakened but defiant at Azrael’s feet.

Azrael huffed, the sound barely audible from behind his mask. “You know, despite you meddling where you don’t belong, I shall still grant you the kind of mercy I so rarely show.”

Chloe's eyes widened at the maliciousness lacing his tone. She tried to struggle against her captors, but they only tightened their hold. “What do you want from me? You think you’re going to scare me?”

He chuckled, low and menacing. “You misunderstand. Fear is not my intention. Your fates have already been sealed by your own choices.” He raised a hand, and Chloe knew she was about to witness something horrific.

“Delilah,” he beckoned, his voice silkily commanding as he gestured for her. The woman stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with sadistic anticipation. “It seems we have a little pest on our hands. A pest that has already had its wings clipped and needs to be permanently dealt with.” Chloe could feel the tension in the air, a hum of electricity as Delilah approached the fallen Sawyer. She knelt beside him, her eyes narrowing in perverse delight.

“How poetic. A man who sought revenge now lies at the feet of the very god he wished to kill.” She purred and Sawyer snarled, trying to swing at her from his awkward position on the ground. Delilah skipped out of the way in time as an outcry kicked Sawyer in the back.

“Pin him down” Delilah ordered, pulling the hammer back on the revolver.

…

Sawyer thrashed like an animal, fighting with the last of his strength against his captors. He was going to die here, he knew it, it was inevitable… and to some bastard with a scythe no less. Maybe… Maybe he should have let the Highway Man kill him at some point, it was better than this… right?

He was pinned to the ground by several outcry members, most of them holding his arms and shoulder since he couldn’t even move his legs right now. His mind was hazy from the pain and a probable concussion, not to mention that he was hit in head a few times during the beating. He did his best to glare at his enemies, but he could barely get the muscles in his face to respond right.

“Look at that fire in his eyes,” Azrael continued, looking completely unfazed. “It’s quite admirable, really, but ultimately futile.” He stepped back, allowing Delilah to step forward, a predatory gleam in her eyes.

Sawyer’s vision swam in and out of focus. Each breath felt like a struggle, pain radiating from his broken leg and the gaping wound in his side. He could barely muster the strength to glare at her, but he was damned if he’d go down without a fight. “You think… you think you can kill me that easily?” he managed to croak out, a desperate attempt to mask his fear with bravado. “Just pull the trigger then, you bitch…”

Delilah's smile widened, a twisted, cruel thing that sent a fresh wave of anger through Sawyer's battered body. The crack of the gunshot rang out, piercing the air like a thunderclap, drowning out the voices of the dying world around him as time seemed to freeze. The bullet found its target.

Pain exploded in Sawyer's chest, a fiery inferno raging through him. He gasped, the sound a broken wheeze, as realization settled like a stone in his gut. He felt the warmth spreading across his shirt, blood saturating the cloth, and for an agonizingly long moment, the realization that this was it crushed down on him like a weight too heavy to carry.

Everything went silent as a suffocating stillness enveloped him, swallowing every sound, even his fading heartbeat. Delilah’s laughter echoed hauntingly, distant and warped, as if coming from underwater.

Time began to slip away. The faces of his friends raced through his mind, their laughter, their camaraderie, and their fights, all the little moments flashing by in an excruciating montage. And Sid. Oh Sid…

"S-Sid..." he whispered, the name barely escaping his lips. "I tried..."

But the reality of the moment bore down heavily, and he felt the weight of darkness pressing against him, whispering sweet nothings that promised relief from pain. He gasped, struggling for breath, and as Delilah turned away, her shadow stretching long and cruel over him, everything began to blur.

Sawyer's vision darkened, shadows converging, obscuring everything, even the crushing fear he was fighting against. The only thing he felt was a strange serenity, a lightness washing over him as he sunk deeper into the abyss.

In one fleeting final moment, he let himself remember everything, feel everything, all the emotions he’d stamped down through the years. But there was no time to cry now, not even time to draw one last breath. His body slowly slackened beneath the weight of inevitability, and as his consciousness slipped further away, the darkness finally consumed him, wrapping him in a shroud of stillness.

He was gone.

Chapter Text

Water…

Waves….

Sand….

Rocks…

The breath he took was tired, steady and full of salty ocean mist.

Where am i?

Blood red eyes cracked open a millimeter to a gray cloudy landscape moments before a rush of water hit him in the face.

The man sputtered and coughed, startling fully awake. Now fully conscious, he took in his surroundings. He was on a beach next to a cliff, and above that cliff… was an eerie house? Mansion? He didn’t know, he just knew that he should probably get the hell out of there since he felt like he was being watched.

He tried to raise his right hand to his head when a bit of resistance caught his eye. He looked down, his eyes catching the metallic glint of a pair of handcuffs, one ring around his wrist and the other around the handle of a suitcase. He stared dumbly at the bag, confused as to why it was handcuffed to him and why this felt… familiar for whatever reason. There was a label on it, stamped into a metal plate. “Property of Sawyer” it read, raising more questions in his head.

He pushed the thought away as he tried to stand up on shaky legs, pressing a gloved palm to his forehead as a bout of dizziness hit him hard.

“Work through it, yer fine.” He growled, his own voice sounding and feeling foreign to him.

He walked down the beach, the feeling of being watched growing stronger with each step. The trees felt strange, the sound of twigs and sticks snapping under his heel sounding fake… Until a stick didn’t snap in time with his step.

He froze, the hair on the back of his neck standing straight up as the creeping feeling reached a crescendo. He slowly looked over his shoulder, glaring at the shadows cast by the trees. Nothing was there…

“What the hell…” he whispered, turning back around and took another step forward.

“DON’T. MOVE.”

He froze again at the voice, a hushed whisper that was barely audible over the wind, “what” he whispered back, straining his ears to hear the response.

“DON’T MOVE. It’ll hear you.”

WHAT WILL HEAR ME?!

He looked around, trying to see who was talking to him, but no one was there, and briefly he thought he might have just imagined it, until he heard the growl…

It was low and he almost thought it was a crashing wave, but he was too far away from the shoreline now. His senses were in overdrive now, he frantically looked around, trying to find a place to hide as the growling sounded like it was getting closer. He caught sight of a jagged outcrop of rocks hidden in the trees, providing a semblance of cover, if only he could make it there in one piece. He made a split-second decision with the handcuffed suitcase clinking as he ran, being as careful as he could where he stepped.

He reached the rocks and hid behind them just as a huge shadow engulfed the area where he had been standing in before. A large, black creature with a deer skull for a head slunk through the forest, its footfalls barely audible. It let out a growl as it surveyed the area, multiple red eyes twitching as it turned its head.

“What the hell-” he whispered just before a hand was slapped over his mouth. He startled as he shoved the offender away, clasping the suitcase in his right hand as he made to hit whoever grabbed him with it.

Wide green eyes greeted him, both hands put up in a sign of surrender. The other was a blonde man, probably the one who was whispering to him.

“Who the hell ‘re you?” he hissed at the man and the blonde shrugged, “ dunno, I can’t remember my name.” they shrugged. “what’s yers?”

He froze, looking back at the suitcase in his hand, “this bag says Sawyer on it, so I guess that’s my name…” he muttered and the blonde’s eyes lit up. “You can read?”

Sawyer blinked at him, “…yeah?”

“What does mine say??” the blonde asked, holding up a similar suitcase that was handcuffed to his right wrist.

“Ollie,” Sawyer spoke and the blonde beamed at him before looking at the placard on his suitcase,

“Ollie… that’s my name?” he asked and Sawyer shrugged, “might as well be.” He spoke, looking back to check where the big black creature went, “thanks fer savin’ me from that thing”

Ollie looked up at him with a confused look, “what?”

“You told me not to move” Sawyer explained but Ollie was still confused, so it wasn’t him, who was it then?

“Never mind, what is this place?” Sawyer asked and Ollie shrugged, “No idea, I woke up on the beach and started walkin’ to the big house on the cliff, I almost got eaten by a big thing instead!” the blonde explained.

The mansion… was that even a good idea right now? What if it’s infested by things like that? Sawyer thought, the idea of getting trapped in a building with a bunch of dark creatures more than unsettling to him. He was snapped out of his thoughts as Ollie snuck past him. “What the hell’re you doin?!” Sawyer hissed.

“Gettin’ to that house” Ollie spoke.

“We don’t know if it’s safe in there” Sawyer spoke as he cautiously followed him.

“Well, we know it ain’t safe out here” Ollie said, looking back at him.

He has a point, Sawyer huffed and rolled his eyes. “fine, but if we get eaten, it’s yer fault.” The blonde smiled at him as the taller man came up next to him and they walked side by side.

All of a sudden, Ollie stopped and looked deep into the woods. “What is it?” Sawyer asked, trying to see whatever the other man was seeing. “I thought I saw a light,” Ollie spoke as he shielded his eyes and squinted.

In the distance there was a brief flash of purple light, it was so far away that Sawyer nearly missed it, but Ollie didn’t. “There! Didya see it!” he shouted and pointed.

“Yeah,” Sawyer spoke as he glared at the blonde, “keep yer voice down, that black demon is probably close by.”

“stay with us!” a distant voice cried out, “come to us, STAY”

A chill ran down Sawyer’s spine as a cold feeling of familiarity flooded his senses. STAY STAY STAY STAY, SINK TO ME-

Horror flooded his veins as Ollie sprinted towards the light, he opened his mouth to call after the blonde but his voice caught in his throat.

“Well what’re the odds?” a disembodied voice echoed in his mind.

“Dammit, OLLIE!” Sawyer shouted as he dashed after his companion. Branches whipped across his shoulders and face as he ran, no longer able to tell where Ollie was anymore. “OLLIE! DAMMIT, WHERE ARE YOU?!” he shouted, being greeted by the caws of a few crows flying between the trees.

He burst into a clearing, looking around to see if his companion was anywhere when Ollie burst out of the trees opposite of where Sawyer was. The blonde’s face was contorted in a look of terror, and when his green eyes spotted Sawyer, he opened his mouth to shout.

“RUN!”

The black creature from earlier burst out of the trees afterwards, clambering after the blonde on all fours. Sawyer immediately turned on his heel and ran, hearing both Ollie’s and the creatures footfalls behind him.

They didn’t know what direction they were going anymore, Sawyer’s first thought was to go for the mansion, but the monster was gaining on them way too fast. It was almost close enough to grab Ollie, relying to the slower blonde to tire out.

Sawyer ran through a bunch of branches to see a ravine stretching out before him, he tried to stop himself but he was going too fast. His boots slid on the leaves on the ground, drawing nearer to the edge of the dark crevice when a pair of hands grabbed onto his right arm and pulled. He was yanked to the side just as Ollie burst through the branches, Sawyer threw his left arm out and caught Ollie’s right arm, the force of the third unknown person pulling all three of them out of the way just in time as the creature ran through the branches and went careening over the side of the ravine.

They peered over the edge, the bottom being too far down for sunlight to reach. However, they could hear a struggle and screeching before the sounds began to move in one direction. “It’s tryin’ to find a way back up here,” the unknown man spoke, “It’ll be on us again soon if we don’t get outta here.”

“Who are you?” Sawyer asked and the other man huffed, “Yer welcome by the way, if wasn’t fer me, you… both would be down there with that thing.” He spoke, looking at Ollie with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m Ollie, this is Sawyer, and who are you?” the blonde asked and the other man stared at him before answering. “Shane, I think, it’s on this case that I can’t see to get off my arm.” Shane spoke, “You don’t happen to have a hairpin on ya do you?”

Ollie shrugged and Sawyer glared, “figured as much” Shane huffed.

A distant crash pulled all three men back to reality as a new surge of adrenaline entered their systems. “yeah, we better go” Shane spoke and started running. Ollie immediately followed suit, Sawyer hissing at them to wait up before also running.

“The Mansion, go to the Mansion!” Sawyer shouted as he heard the creature in the distance.

“Yes I KNOW” Shane hissed as he led them through the woods, “it should be right up- AUGH!”

All three of them collided with something running the other way, all of them going down in a tangled heap of limbs.

Sawyer snarled as he shoved at whoever was on top of him, he was going to kill Shane, how did he not see something coming towards them?

“YOU?!”

The exclamation next to him caught him off guard, but not as much as the fist that collided with his jaw almost immediately afterwards. His head rang like a bell, the blow being strong enough to make his head bounce off the ground. Shaking off the blow, he finally threw off whoever was on him and scrambled to his feet, only to get knocked over by a suitcase to the side of his face.

Sawyer kicked out and caught the legs of whoever was attacking him, as he heard a shout and the sounds of someone collapsing. He sat up, rubbing his jaw as he looked around, seeing Shane holding back an older man with graying hair as Ollie scrambled away and a woman with long, dark curly hair and dark skin clambering back to her feet.

With the older man seemingly more focused on Shane and Ollie, Sawyer immediately made the connection just who exactly hit him. He shot to his feet just as the woman did and held his suitcase in front of him to use as a shield.

“I dunno what yer deal is,” he began, “but we don’t have time for this.”

The woman snarled and swung her suitcase at him, Sawyer darting out of the way just in time. He could hear more yelling between Shane, Ollie and the other man, but he more focused on not getting his ass handed to him by the woman who seemed hell bent on ending him for some reason. She swung again, and Sawyer ducked, feeling the rush of air as the suitcase sailed just inches above his head. He scrambled backwards, keeping his grip tight on his own dubious baggage as he tried to formulate a plan.

A loud shrieking noise cut through the air, making all of them freeze. “What the hell was that?” Sawyer heard the older man ask before they began to hear voices, approaching them, fast.

“stop, not you, stay with us, don’t go!”

Sawyer and Ollie shared a brief glance before bolting forward, Sawyer grabbing Shane under the arm and practically dragging him until he could stand upright. They ran for the mansion, hearing the voices coming closer along with other footfalls.

“LEAVE US ALONE!”

The sounds of boots on soil suddenly gave way to boots on stone as they burst into the mansion courtyard. Behind them, four pairs of footsteps ran in followed by the metallic clang of gates being slammed shut.

Chapter Text

Sawyer looked over his shoulder, seeing the older man and the woman from earlier along with two other women he did not recognize. As far as he could see, they were in a safe area, the courtyard looking fairly well kept given the plants didn’t look overgrown.

Shane and Ollie were looking around, the two unnamed women were talking together and the older man and the dark skinned woman were whispering amongst themselves, both casting wary glances at Sawyer who hadn’t moved. Sawyer narrowed his eyes at them before looking around the courtyard himself. If the place was well kept, why hasn’t anyone come out to meet them yet? And weren’t they essentially trespassing?

He walked up to the big wood doors and tried the handle. Locked. Was anyone even home?

Just as he turned away, the doors creaked open behind him. He startled, stumbling down the steps and barely keeping his footing.

“Ah, it seems we’re expected.” One of the unnamed women spoke, a lady with pink eyes and light blonde hair. She walked past him, the other woman, one with icy blue eyes chin length black and white hair following her, casting a wary look at Sawyer.

“Shane! Ollie! The door’s open!” Sawyer shouted

Shane and Ollie exchanged quick glances before dashing over. "What did you do?" Shane asked, a hint of accusation in his tone as they reached Sawyer.

"I didn’t do anythin’. It just opened on its own." Sawyer spoke.

The two women walked up to the large, wooden doorway. The older man and the dark-skinned woman stepped closer, their expressions flickering between wariness and desire to investigate the unexpected turn of events.

"Are you sure it’s safe?" Shane whispered, clearly uneasy but also intrigued. “Why the hell ‘re you askin’ me?” Sawyer asked.

“Cause you opened it” Shane said, and Sawyer glared at him in disbelief. "I just told you—"

Before Sawyer could finish, the woman with pink eyes turned around, her gaze piercing yet almost amused. "It matters not who opened it," she said, her voice smooth and calm. "It’s about what happens next."

The air in the courtyard grew thick with tension as all eyes turned toward the open door. The silence was almost deafening, save for the faint rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

“Whaddya mean by that?” Ollie asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“This is a dream after all, would rather stand let time pass idly by or find a way to pass the time?” she asked.

Sawyer snapped his gaze to Ollie, “Don’t you fucking think about it.” He hissed and the blonde looked at him innocently, “Think about what?” he asked, but Sawyer wasn’t fooled.

The dark-skinned woman beside the older man crossed her arms, eyeing the door with skepticism. “This could very well be a trap. We don’t know who’s on the other side.”

“Or what,” Shane added, his voice steady now but his body tense, ready to run if necessary. “We should just leave.”

But Sawyer felt a pull toward the door, a strange magnetism urging him to step through. “What if it’s not?”

Everyone looked at him as his word hung in the air like a fragile thread. He took a tentative step forward, feeling that magnetic pull intensify, as though there was something waiting for him just beyond the darkness.

The pink eyed lady smiled and walked into the doorway, the blue eyed lady following suit. Sawyer kept walking, sensing Ollie come up next to him and heard Shane’s footsteps as well.

“Cliff I don’t like this” the dark skinned woman spoke, shuffling closer to her companion.

“It’s not like we got a choice, kid.” Cliff spoke gravely.

Reluctantly, Chloe and Cliff followed the others towards the door, Chloe’s eyes fixated on the Marked Man, gripping her suitcase tighter in her hand as she watched him disappear into the doorway.

“Hello?! Is someone there?” The pink eyed lady called out.

“HELLO!?!?” Ollie shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to make the call louder. “OLLIE STOP,” Sawyer hissed, pulling the blonde’s hands away from his face.

“We’re lost and need help!” the lady called again and Sawyer might as well give up on stealth at this point.

[We can help you…] a disembodied voice muttered as a chilly breeze swept through the room, […but you’re not lost.]

In front of the group two figures appeared, identical to each other in nearly every way.

“Have you no manners at all?” asked the one on the right, “tsk, tsk. That’s hardly the way to greet the Deans of this Academy.” Spoke the one on the left.

“Deans?!” the pink eyed lady exclaimed, “Oh Sirs, what a relief. We thought this place was abandoned.”

“Is that why you’re so tardy?”, “Your first class has already begun.” The Deans spoke again, one finishing the other’s dialogue.

“What class?” Sawyer muttered as the two women ahead of the group denied that they were enrolled.

“Oh, but you are!” the one on the left spoke, snapping his fingers.

A book appeared in the Dean’s hands, which they opened and flipped through the pages. They listed off the pink eyed lady as Annabel Lee and blue eyed lady as Lenore. The Deans then moved onto the rest, “And you, Ollie and Sawyer, oh…” the Dean stopped mid-sentence, “you two have an… interesting past to say the least.”

Past?

“The hell do you mean by that?” Sawyer snapped, his eyes shifting from the Deans to the book, “what does it say?” He stepped towards the Deans, reaching for the book.

The Deans held the book out of his reach, “Disrespectful behavior, ten demerits.” The one on the right deadpanned as he glared at Sawyer, who snarled.

The Dean on the left carried on, “ah, and you, Shane. You seem fairly insistent on coming here, it is… getting fairly irritating to say the least. Mandatory ten demerits.

“Insistent?! I’ve never been here before!” Shane squawked.

“Hmm, and we have some strange new arrivals as well! If Miss Chloe and Sir Cliff would like to step forward out of the shadows?”

The group turned around to see the dark skinned woman and the older man lingering back. “Come now, don’t be shy, we don’t bite” the Dean on the left spoke, “Most of us at least.” The one on the right added, still glaring at Sawyer. Chloe and Cliff reluctantly stepped forward, staying close together as they eyed the group warily.

“Anyways,” the Deans closed the book, “don’t worry, you’re all precisely where you’re supposed to be.” “Albeit a little late.” “Follow us, quickly.” “Leave your luggage, the wisps will take care of it.”

Instantly, the handcuffs around their wrists disappeared.

Lenore ran after the Deans, continuing to ask questions. Sawyer looked to his companions, Shane looking very confused, Ollie not really knowing what’s going on, and Cliff and Chloe whispering to each other. Sawyer narrowed his eyes at them, those two have been talking to themselves for a while now, he thought before turning his attention back to the Deans.

“I’m Merry” “And I’m Mourn”, “But you can call us “Sir.””

Okay…

“This is Nevermore Academy, your new home. At least for now.”

“Charmed.” Lenore spoke as the group began to follow the Deans, “Would it hurt to dust now and again?”

“No, would it hurt to make a good impression?”, “After all the final decision is up to us.”

“What final decision?” Lenore asked a bit too sharply.

“Discourteous tone.” Mourn muttered, “That’s five more demerits.” Merry finished.

“That’s so creepy,” Ollie whispered and Shane hissed at him to be quiet.

“Ollie, Disrespectful behavior,” Merry spoke up, “ten demerits” Mourn hissed.

“HOW DID YOU EVEN HEAR THAT?!” Ollie burst out and both Shane and Sawyer hissed at him to stop.

“Surely you all are catching on by now. We will decide whether you deserve a second chance.” Merry said.

“A second chance?” Annabel asked as the group came to a stop outside of a closed door, “Have we failed at something, sirs?”

“Oh. They haven’t realized. How sad.” Mourn spoke, wrapping an arm around Merry’s shoulders.

“You’re all dead.”

Chloe felt a chill run up her spine as the five people in front of them went still. She looked to Cliff next to her to see that he was also unsettled, if Jackdaw’s body wasn’t found at the Gala then how is he here?

When Chloe looked back she felt her blood turn to ice. Both Deans were looking past the group, right at her and Cliff. Despite Merry’ smile and Mourn’s blank look, both their eyes held the same predatory gleam. Next to her, Chloe sensed Cliff tense up, he saw them too.

Neither of the Deans were impressed about their presence, they knew they didn’t belong.

Chapter Text

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Profanity.” Mourn snapped, “Twenty demerits.” Merry chimed in.

That was really going to piss him off so badly on the wrong day. Sawyer felt like he was going to be sick. Dead? Dead?? When? HOW? Who was he before-?

The memories of being attacked by Chloe on the way to the Academy came flooding back. Sawyer peered over his shoulder at her and her companion, why did she attack me? What did she know?

“Now that that’s out of the way…” “Welcome to your first class.”

The Deans opened the doors to the class room, revealing a wide open space with desks surrounding a sunken stage-like area, much like a coliseum. In the center of the room was who Sawyer assumed was the teacher, who immediately addressed the newcomers.

“Tardiness is ten demerits!” she spoke, slapping the stick in her left hand against her other palm, “Come in, darlings.”

“No need to worry, Ms. Poppet!” Merry spoke before Mourn, “It’s already been discussed.”

“Sirs, will the two of you be joining us today?” Ms. Poppet asked.

“If you’ll have us I don’t see why not!” Merry replied.

Sawyer looked out over the class, seeing many other people there, all of whom were looking at them. They all looked to be on the younger side, making Cliff stand out, no one appeared to be as old as him. Suddenly, the Deans were ushering everyone to the desks, Sawyer being unceremoniously shoved into an empty seat and forced to move over as Chloe was pushed in next to him. At the desk across the stairs on Chloe’s left, Cliff and Shane were pushed into the row, leaving Ollie to sit above where Sawyer and Chloe were.

Sawyer shifted away from Chloe, that eerie feeling of familiarity haunting him again.

Ms. Poppet introduced the Deans to the class, getting their names wrong the first time.

“As I was saying!” Ms. Poppet began, “Nevermore. A waypoint between the land of the living and the land of the dead. You may be wondering: Well Ms. Poppet, am I dead or am I alive!? And the answer is – you’re BOTH!”

Sawyer’s heart dropped, a mix of disbelief and growing panic coursing through him. Was this some kind of sick joke? A twisted prank? He glanced at Chloe, who seemed disturbed, her face pale, Cliff's expression mirrored her concern, while Ollie, though seeming to genuinely try to wrap his head around what was just said and still failing, appeared more curious than scared.

“Both?” Sawyer repeated, his voice coming out in a strained whisper. “What does that even mean?”

“Please refrain from interrupting,” Ms. Poppet admonished, her tone sugary sweet yet laced with authority. “You’ll have plenty of time for questions after class.”

“Yeah, like we’re going to have a normal school day,” Shane muttered beside him, trying to maintain a light-hearted tone that failed to mask his unease.

Poppet continued to talk, explaining how they still carried the needs and vulnerabilities from their mortal lives… while also having some tricks up their sleeves.

“We call them Spectres.” Poppet spoke as the described the student apparent “ghost forms”, “These come with many new abilities, all based on the type entity you are. Spectres take a lot of focus to maintain, but as you learn and grow during our classes, you’ll learn to wield them well.”

“Ms. Poppet?” Annabel spoke up, raising her hand.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Ms. Poppet addressed her.

“Are you saying we can turn into…ghosts?” Annabel asked and Ms. Poppet smiled, “Yes dear, I am saying that.”

“Here’s an idea…” “Why don’t we just show them?”, “Annabel Lee, would you like to volunteer?” the Deans asked.

“Oh certainly,” Annabel spoke, standing up from her desk only to disappear down a shadowy hole that appeared under her feet which then promptly sent her back up where the Deans stood.

Several of the students startled at the event, Lenore too apparently. They all watched as the Deans leaned down and whispered something into Annabel’s ears. Immediately, the windows began shaking and the lights went out as the room started to get filled with fog.

There was a gust of wind as Annabel changed into something very different from how she appeared before.

“Ah, student! Isn’t she beautiful!?” Poppet exclaimed, “This is a Lady in White. An entity who died suddenly before she was to be wed.”

Sawyer wrapped his arms around himself, an wanted empty feeling creeping into his chest as he started to get really really cold.

“…fog is a mainstay of the Lady in White’s repertoire.” Hea heard Poppets voice rambling on, though she sounded far away, “You may also notice a desperate feeling of loneliness. Tha is too…”

Make it stop… Make… it…

Then the clod feeling faded away, like a cloud being burned away by the heat of the sun as Annabel’s form dissipated. He heard one of the Dean’s say something, but he was too busy rubbing the chill out of his clothes… until Lenore had an outburst, that cut right through the haze in his mind.

“What the devil sort of school is this?” Lenore snapped, “She’s obviously in pain! What did you say to her!?”

“Sit down, Lenore.”, “Unruliness and profanity. That’s twenty demerits.” The Dean’s spoke, Merry’s smile now gone.

“To hell with your demerits. You owe us answers! What is the point of this dratted academy? Are we simply here for you to torture? For your own sick amusement?!” Lenore shouted, her voice echoing across the room.

“Quite the contrary, Lenore.” Merry spoke, a grin gracing his features. “We at Nevermore Academy are here to help you on your spiritual journey. Each semester will end with a final exam. Only the worthy will pass. Those who don’t will be sent to the Land of the Dead for all eternity.” The Deans spoke, “But if you survive these exams, you’ll get a chance at a new life.”

A new life? What does that mean?

Before anyone could ask however, Annabel fainted, prompting another outburst from Lenore as she fought the Deans to try and get to her companion. It got bad enough that before Merry could bring Annabel out, Poppet had to get involved to restrain Lenore until Mourn could drag her out himself.

“That was merely a demonstration, my dears.” She spoke, “Miss Annabel Lee will be alright, she needs only rest and quiet. Rest assured, we have your best interests at heart,” she assured, though her smile seemed far too bright in the dimly lit room.

Sawyer’s mind raced, the implications of their situation becoming clearer with each passing moment. “No one had mentioned this,” he thought bitterly, stealing a glance at Ollie. The blonde’s eyes were wide, reflecting a blend of apprehension and excitement. Unlike Sawyer, who only felt the weight of impending doom, Ollie seemed captivated by the prospect of abilities that transcended life and death.

“Who decides what makes us worthy?” Cliff’s voice broke through the thick air, laced with skepticism. There was an edge to his tone as he leaned forward, clearly unsettled but unwilling to back down.

“Oh, that is a delightful question! The Deans and I shall evaluate your progress throughout your classes—your ability to harness your Spectre forms, and how well you adjust to your new environment.” “So… we’re stuck here until you decide if we’re worth saving?” Shane interjected, arms crossed defensively.

“Precisely!” Poppet spoke. “But don’t fret! I promise it won’t be terribly boring.”

Sawyer slumped in his chair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Whatever his past life had been, it didn’t matter anymore. He was now a pawn in whatever twisted game this was. Again.

He snapped his head up at the unprompted thought, the unprompted familiar thought.

What the hell did that mean? He could feel something gnawing at the edges of his memory, like an old photograph coated in dust, just out of reach. He glanced around the classroom, taking in the expressions of his companions. Chloe looked concerned and confused, her brow furrowed in silence, while Cliff maintained his air of defiance. Shane played disinterest while Ollie… Ollie was still clueless.

“Class, if you will direct your attention to the front,” Ms. Poppet said, clapping her hands together to gather the attention, “now that we’ve established the nature of your situation, let’s move on…”

…

Class ended soon after. Nobody saw Lenore or Annabel afterwards, though the Deans assured the students that they were in their respective dorm rooms. Each of the students was given a key and was sent to find their room. The hallways were alive with running students in a hurry to get to their rooms before it got too late in the night.

Sawyer walked through the halls, noticeably towering over most of the students who subconsciously gave him a wide berth.

“Room 108” his key read, he kept glancing at it as he walked, feeling uneasy in the bustling hallways as the din of people made his spine prick.

He finally reached his room, but when he reached for the knob to unlock it, the door was already ajar. He was immediately on guard, gently pushing the door open as he carefully looked into the room. There was a figure sitting on one of the two beds whose head snapped up to him when the door inevitably snitched on him by creaking on its old rusty hinges.

Blue momentarily met red before Sawyer heaved a big irritated sigh, he had a roommate… of course he does…

“Shit…”

“…Shit”