Chapter Text
Red lights reflected off bloodstained walls. Screams echoed through the long corridors that were once a delicate cream color. Heavy breathing filled the air — from those chasing, and those being chased. Sirens blared throughout the building, a feeble attempt to contain the chaos within the concrete walls of the asylum. Outside, the world remained oblivious.
Deep inside, two figures ran — a girl and another — darting through the gaping halls. The world spun as they came to a dead end. The girl turned to face the grotesque scene behind them. The smile she’d worn earlier had vanished. A gun now shook in her grip, white-knuckled from rage and fear.
Their pursuers crept closer, step by step, until they stood within arm’s reach. The girl raised her gun, eyes narrowing, while her partner, smooth and silent, stepped beside her, weapon low but ready.
Her long brown hair veiled half her face, trailing down her back in matted tangles. Dull teal eyes shimmered beneath the red emergency lights. She held her gun steady, rage pulsing through her veins.
"You should give up," said the leader of the pursuers, his voice sharp and smug.
Her gaze bored into him, calculating. They wouldn’t get out of this. She turned to her partner.
"I think there's no escape this time, Charlie."
She lowered the gun slightly, trembling. The thought of returning to her room — blank walls, nothing but silence — sent a shudder through her.
“I’d agree, Bela,” Charlie said softly, their peridot eyes solemn. “But this is the last time we’ll ever see each other, isn’t it? I want to make it count.”
"Aww, isn’t this touching?" the man sneered. "Two inmates having a moment. Shame your little escape didn’t go as planned."
Gun in hand, he stepped forward with a sneer plastered across his face. Then — he staggered. Blood welled from his mouth. A clean hole opened in his abdomen.
He looked down, eyes wide in horror, then back up — just as another shot pierced him from behind. His face twisted in pain. He took a few steps, hand reaching toward them, blood soaking the front of his once-white uniform.
Then he fell. Convulsed. Stilled.
Bela and Charlie locked eyes. Terror bloomed. A sniper? One with a silencer? Invisible?
Unless... they were on their side.
One by one, the others dropped. Chaos erupted as guards scrambled, trying in vain to locate the shooter. But when a sniper doesn’t want to be found — they aren’t.
Back to back, Bela and Charlie took the opening. They fired at the survivors. The sniper was surgical, every move anticipated. As the final pursuer dropped, silence settled. Only their ragged breathing and the soft thud of approaching footsteps remained.
The sniper emerged. A dozen feet away. A mask and hood concealed their face, save for a single strip of fiery auburn hair. A sniper rifle slung across their back.
Charlie gripped their gun, feet planted, trying to look taller, tougher. The sniper didn’t feel dangerous — just… unnervingly still. Calculating grey eyes studied them. Bela shivered, the adrenaline finally fading.
The sniper stepped forward. Paused. Stepped back. Forward again. Then stood frozen.
Charlie gave Bela a look. She shrugged. No idea.
Impatient, Bela finally broke the silence.
“Why did you shoot all the guards?”
The sniper tilted their head. “Why did you?”
"That’s obvious. I’m trying to escape with—" She caught herself. “—someone.”
Charlie shot her a look. She shrugged again. My bad.
Stepping up, Charlie spoke. “Don’t mind her. It’s been a long night.” Their voice was steady, but barely. They’d done things like this before — but never with this many guards. Or this close.
“We make enemies everywhere we go. Doesn’t take much when you’re locked up like this.”
The sniper gave a slow nod. “What do you plan to do if you get out alive?”
Bela froze. They’d never thought that far.
A smile twitched at her lips. Then came the laughter — soft, wild, on the verge of hysteria.
“We don’t have a plan,” she said honestly. “So we won’t bullshit you with a fake one.”
“If you escape with no plan, you will be hunted down,” the sniper replied. “Would you rather live on the run — no ID, no access, no safety — or live harder, but with food and shelter?”
Silence.
Then Bela spoke. “Your sales pitch needs work, but… food? Shelter? Count me in. I’ve got nothing else. No family. Nothing left. Might as well choose the lesser hell.”
The sniper’s eyes gleamed. Charlie, instantly on alert, tensed.
Bela had stopped caring. Charlie hadn’t. She was unraveling — had been since the escape began. And Charlie had seen too many false hopes before.
“I helped you,” the sniper began, “because I’ve come to offer—”
“I’m in,” Bela said, stepping forward, cutting them off.
Charlie grabbed her arm. “Bela, you don’t know what you’re agreeing to. Think—”
“You think I don’t know that?!” she snapped. “I’ve been here for… God knows how long! I don’t even remember how old I am anymore!”
“You’re 17,” the sniper said quietly.
Bela ripped her arm free, muttering, “Whatever. Come if you want. Just don’t get yourself killed.”
Charlie turned her around. “Bela! Please — think about this. I don’t want to see you suffer more than you already have.”
“This could end our suffering!” Bela cried. Her eyes shone like crystal — fragile, breakable. “What choice do we have? I have no home. No past. Nothing!”
Tears welled. Her voice cracked.
“All I have is pain!”
She wiped her eyes furiously, face flushed, shoulders shaking. Then — calmer — she looked at him.
“I want you to come with me, Charlie. But… it’s your choice. I won’t make you stay for my sake.”
Charlie stepped beside her. “Bells… I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. But be cautious — so I can protect you.”
Bela nodded slowly. Her eyes, glittering tourmaline, glistened with pain.
“We’ll come,” Charlie said, facing the sniper. “But if you betray us — we won’t go down alone.”
The sniper nodded, motioning for them to follow.
The police have probably already been called, Charlie thought grimly.
But what stunned them most — the sniper hadn’t come through any normal path. No way a grown person crawled through ventilation. Charlie cursed themselves for believing movie clichés.
They stepped over bodies, spilled pills, flipped carts. Red-streaked chaos.
Reaching the second-floor fire escape, they saw it — sawed off its hinges.
Outside, sunlight. Real, warm, golden sunlight.
Bela took a deep breath. Let it fill her lungs. Held up a hand to the sun.
“We made it, Charlie,” she said. “We made it to the other side!”
She pulled him into a rough hug, laughing uncontrollably.
“Yeah,” Charlie whispered. “We’re really here.”
They tried to pull free. Failed.
But they smiled anyway.
“We can finally start our lives — without restraint. Without being watched. Without… hanging by a thread.”