dyk3ang3l - Tumblr blog

dyk3ang3l · 19 days

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UUAAYGSHSJEGH YES dina getting recognition YAYAYAYA

Who are you, really?

Outline: Love is many things; beautiful, transformative, but isn’t always like that. It can also be dangerous, deceiving, and in this case, it’s all the above for you. Can you break your morals for love?

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings: Modern au + Reader’s pov + No baby JJ + D and R are in their mid 30s + Established relationship + Description of violence + Mentions of death + Multiple mentions of sexual depictions + Flashback + Angst + Mentions of R being a workaholic + Fluff + Raunchy humor + Italics are R’s thoughts + The bold italics are just for narration!

Chapter one -> Next Chapter

The loud sound of something being slammed on your desk disrupted your “eye rest” break. Startled, your eyes subconsciously snap open to see another pile of files on your desk. Fuck, more?! And standing behind them is your boss.

Shit..

“Sleeping on the job again, I assume?” the feminine voice penetrates your eardrums.

You groan, rubbing your eye, “No, no—“ you sigh, “just resting my eyes, sorry ma’am.”

“Well resting your eyes—“ she emphasized, “—ain’t gonna solve the cases that are piling on your desk, Y/n.”

You sighed, “I know, I know, you know I wouldn’t slack off on these cases—just…need some coffee.” you responded. You need more than just coffee, you needed some fucking clarity. An explanation to tell everyone around you, but mostly for yourself. Having multiple endless sleepless nights trying to conjure up an explanation. With all these unsolved cases—or should I say horrific cases piling your desk like damn skyscrapers. How could you sleep?

From the last viewing of past crimes, you’ve seen the gruesome length, this killer isn’t afraid to tread. But this wasn't unusual for you, you’re a crime scene investigator—lead crime scene Investigator on this ongoing case—sorry. So this became the norm for you. But with the norm came responsibilities, and with responsibility came stress. This maniac has been roaming around for years now, murdering innocent victims.

Only now, their murders have been getting more brutal. Old reports stated, “victim found with multiple stab wounds to the chest area” to now reporting, finding them with stab wounds and or either their “abdomens gutted” or “limbs missing” that would be later found spread out in public spaces.

What a sick fuck.

But the one thing they were notorious for was leaving evidence. It wasn’t actually evidence to get them caught. No, They were fucking smart, you’d give them that. It was just evidence to get you and your team excited to only realize it leads to a dead end, leaving everyone frustrated. This fucker was toying with you. You were gonna make sure this asshole pays for what he did. Even if it kills you.

Because having the victims’ family belittle you and your team infuriated you. Because who were they to call you and your team quote on quote, ‘just a bunch of useless idiots sitting on their asses eating donuts?!’ My god, that’s just a fucking stereotype!—actually a glazed donut sounds good right now—

“Hey, Y/n?—Y/n!” a voice ripples through your ongoing thoughts.

“Huh?—Ahh shit!” You hiss as the scolding hot coffee lands and burns your skin. Pulling your hand to your chest and holding the irritated skin, you look behind to see your colleague, Sam.

“Shit—you okay?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, yeah—I’m fine.” Fucking coffee, “You staying late tonight?” you ask.

“No, no, gotta get home to the missus tonight and you?” he says with a gruffy chuckle.

You chuckle as well and respond, “Uhh—no, I’m staying late tonight, gotta finish up a few things…” you say while grabbing your steaming coffee carefully and walking over to the coffee counter display. He follows slowly behind and leans against the counter beside you and replies, “Oh…alright—just be careful. These recent killings, man, they have everyone on edge.” he warns.

That warning makes you chuckle, “Trust me, I can deal with some asshole.” you reply while pouring some of the coffee out and ripping open a sugar packet, pouring the contents inside your cup. But you didnt hear him laugh along, instead a unamused sigh leaving his mouth, “Y/n—” Fuck, here we go again, “—Alright, alright, I’ll be safe, god.” you interrupt with a little chuckle to avoid an awkward moment.

He sighs, “You can’t joke around like that—“ This fucking guy “—I said I’ll be safe.” interrupting once more with a serious tone. The immediate seriousness in your voice catches him off guard, making him back off. “Alright, sorry…I’ll…see you tomorrow.” he responds sheepishly and begins to walk away as you finish making your coffee.

You turn your head to see your colleague walking away, feeling the guilt settling in your stomach—Fuck..

You didn’t mean to blow off on him like that. You’ve just been restless and so tense lately and no one can take a fucking joke. Granted, it was a shitty one, but still! Pull the sticks out your asses, guys and laugh! With a sigh, you sip your still bitter coffee—after putting in a bunch of creamers—and enter your office to resume on an unfinished report.

You were on a roll! Finishing report after report, you loved the adrenaline you got from this. You could run two fucking marathons this rush coursing through your veins. Until the sound of your alarm disturbs the high. That stupid ass Justin Bieber song starts to play; “Baby, baby, baby oh!” With a groan, you grab the noisy phone from your pocket, holding it in your hand causes the phone to light up. It gives you a better look at the alarm’s display and with the name for it above, “Time to cum home!” Upon reading the name, it causes you to laugh while turning off the alarm.

God, I love her..

Standing up from your comfortable office chair, you begin packing your belongings up and pushing aside the empty coffee cups that desperately need to be thrown out. Eh..I’ll do it later. you won’t be doing it “later”. Nonetheless, you shut off the lights and begin trudging to the main office’s elevator, pressing the call button.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket once again, you go to the message app, and texting your girlfriend, Dina. You smile at the past conversation with your lover and text her.

You wait a couple seconds for the “Delivered” receipt to turn to, “Read”, but it was a possible chance it wouldn’t since you knew tonight she was gonna stay up late working on designs for one of her clients. But the dinging sound of the elevator doors causes you to look up from your phone and walk inside. Turning off your phone and putting it back in your pocket, you press the button for the ground floor and begin your descent when that stupid ass alarm blares off again; “Baby, baby, baby oh!” You groan, immediately take out your phone to turn it off.

“Stupid ass fucking song.” you mumbled annoyedly.

Few months prior…

You walk into your shared bedroom to find your girlfriend fiddling with your phone. At first, you didn’t mind until you started hearing multiple alarm sounds coming from Dina’s direction causing you to turn around.

“Bae, what are you doing?” you ask while settling yourself down behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist, and placing your chin on her shoulder gently to look down at what she’s doing.

“Setting an alarm for you.” she replies.

Her answer elicits a chuckle and you begin to try taking your phone away from her playfully. “Dina, bae, you know I don’t need my phone to wake me up in the morning. I have the alarm clock for that.”

With every attempt to grabbing your phone results in being unsuccessful as she moves it out of your reach. “It's not for that.” she states, causing you to become even more confused.

“Oh?—what’s it for then?” you say with a cheeky smile and start to hum dramatically as if you’re thinking what it could be used for as you inquire again, “is it a reminder to eat you out—“

“Y/n!” she interrupts you, causing you to burst out laughing while she elbows your arm.

“No, you perv!” she quips with a smile, “it’s so you know when to come back from work.”

Your laughter slowly dies out and immediately giveher a look, “to stop working? babe—“

“—Ah, ah, ah, no, before you start, this is set because I know how you are.”

“anndd” you drag out, “how am I?” you ask playfully with a smirk.

She huffs, “You’re a workaholic” she bluntly says, “and tend to stay in your office for a long period of time even after your shift has ended!” she argues.

Her statement causes your playful demeanor to drop instantly and rest your head on her shoulder again, “Baby, you know I’m trying not to do that anymore.” you say softly.

“I know you are, but this is just to ensure that.” she softens her voice and looks back at you. There’s awkward silence between the two of you. Before a sigh from your girlfriend breaks that silence, “I’m just worried about you, that’s all.” You knew that she meant well and just acted this way out of fear. Terrified, She’d get the heart dropping call that you “collapsed at work and now in the hospital” again. No, she couldn't relive that moment again. No, you wouldn’t let that happen. Not again.

So you didn’t protest any further, just giving a nod and watching your girlfriend set the alarm. And even trying to lighten up the mood by helping her pick the most goofiest alarm sound that you knew you’d come to hate. But you didn’t care since you knew it’d bring the one girl you entrusted with your heart, comfort.

Present…

The pattering of rain hitting your windshield as you drive down the familiar neighborhood feels so relaxing. Soothing even, it’s one of those rare comforts you get from your chaotic life and each time the feeling eventuates, you embrace it. But even though you try desperately to cling onto this feeling tightly, it always leaves. Always leaving a bitter feeling behind. With this same feeling coursing through your body, you pull into the driveway of your one story house. Turning off the engine, you don’t move instead resting your head on the steering wheel, listening and counting carefully to all the soft thumps that cast down on your car.

Pull yourself together..

Reluctantly, you get out of your car and walk to the entrance of your house while stuffing your hand in your pocket, searching for your keys. Fucking keys, where are you? Until the sharp edge of the key prickles your finger as you mouth the word “ow” before grabbing the key and sticking it in the keyhole. Twisting the key, unlocking the door to your cozy house.

Ahh, home at last.

Walking inside, you throw your keys into the bowl with Dina’s. “Dina?” you call out as you shut the door behind you and begin kicking your shoes off. No response. “Dina?” you call out again while losing your tie. No response once again—wait is that the water running? You hum in confusion and walk down the hallway, looking to the right, you see Dina’s ipad on the dining table with papers scattered around it.

Tattoo sketches..but where is the artist?

You avert your gaze ahead and continue walking down the winding hallway. The running water can be heard more prominent now, She must be in the bathroom. Now in front of the bathroom door, you can confirm that the water is running from the other end—but there’s also rustling. “Dina?” you knock on the door, “Baby, I’m home.” you say, waiting for a response.

“Yeah, yeah—I’ll be out in a bit…just using the bathroom!” The familiar voice says, causing you to smile.

“Alright—I’ll be in the kitchen.” you say and begin your way to said location.

“Okay!” you hear faintly as you walk away.

In the kitchen, you pour yourself some water, leaning against the counter, and closing your eyes. Trying not to think of the stresses of work, even though that’s all what’s been clouding your mind for months. Dismembered corpse—public space—some gutted—missing limbs—some having the same fate—oh god…

The sound of a door opening and soft footsteps approaching cause you to open your eyes and clear all those thoughts. You exhale, preparing yourself—For what? Upon seeing the raven haired girl, you set your glass down on the counter and walk over to you. Wrapping your arms around her waist and leaning in to kiss her.

“Hey baby.”

“Hey, you okay?” she says with a hint of worry in her tone.

The feeling of Dina caressing your cheek elicits a sigh, “Y-yeah—no, I'm okay. You took a shower?” you ask, noticing her damp hair.

A frown adorns on her face, but she answers your question. “Yeah, couldn’t really think so i took a shower.”

You nod, “Alright—well I should probably take one.”

She just hums in acknowledgment, seeming to be lost in thought. You knew when she was quiet like this—something was up.

“What’s wrong?”

There’s a pause, before uttering out, “Are you sure, you’re okay?”

You stare at your girlfriend, hesitant to worry or even plagued with her thoughts with those gruesome scenes that certainly keep you up at night. But you know, that it’ll only worry her more if you don’t say anything so—“Just work…I don’t know—“

“You do know, Y/n” She interrupts, not impressed by your response.

That intrusion leaves you speechless, pulling away from her embrace, you lean against the counter, “I know…just need—little rest that’s all.”

She crosses her arms once you pull away and just watches you. Eventually she walks past you, muttering something under her breath.

You feel your heart drop to watch your girlfriend act this way. Can I blame her? You sigh and walk towards her while she looks inside the fridge, wrapping your arms around her waist, “I don’t mean to worry you, Dina—“

“—Well you are.” she sighs, shutting the fridge door. Her focus turns to you, “I just want you to talk to me. To tell me your worries—to just communicate with me.” she says, almost pleading.

You nod, “I know—I just..” you sigh, “I just don’t want to…paint out these gruesome images in your head.” You try to hug her, but with caution—scared she’d pull away.

She doesn't though, immediately embracing you, “Don’t worry about me, Y/n” she sighs, “I just don’t want you to hold it all in, It’s not good.”

“It’s not exactly good for you either.” you say with a slight chuckle. You feel her smile against your skin eliciting a little laugh from her, “Like i said, don’t worry about me.” she repeats, pulling away to look at you with a smile painted on her face.

There it is again, that comfort you seem to look for subconsciously. It’s in front of you right now with the beautifulest smile in the world. Until she pats the side of your shoulder, “Now, we should cook something before heading to bed. ‘Cause I’m fucking starving.”

You groan, “Do we have to?” you emphasize on “have” in a whiny tone as you begin kissing her neck—hoping to distract her, “Can’t I just have you for dinner and call it a day?” you quip—but not really.

Dina chuckles, “That would be no fair, what would I eat?” She plays along.

“Oh? you can have this pus—“ you’re stopped midword when Dina puts her hand over your mouth, gasping, “No, you dirty dog. We're eating actual food and getting rest.” You smile and lick her hand causing her to snatch it away and yelling which makes you burst out laughing.

Dina wipes the palm of her hand on her jeans, “You’re such a freak…” she huffs while opening the fridge to get ingredients for this mini past midnight snack. You cross your arms, watching her with a smile adorning your face. It’s only when she has a handful of things in her arms when you lean off and take some weight off her hands, “woah—babe.” you chuckle, “what’s all this?”

Your question elicits a smile, “Dinner.” she states, settling the ingredients down. You follow her actions and look at her, “Dinner?—what are you exactly making?” you inquire with a nervous laugh. “Stop questioning the chef and help.” She demands playfully. Her demeanor makes you laugh,“Shit, yes ma’am” you say dramatically.

“Chef.” she corrects with a smile.

“Right.” You say as you begin washing the vegetables.

Although you were always exhausted from your average eighteen hour shifts, you weren’t gonna let that stop you from having these types of moments with your girlfriend. Even if they were small as carpooling with one another to work or sitting down and just talking to each other. You didn’t care, it was small and vulnerable things that mattered the most to you. The ones you cherished. You have always been an observer since a child. That’s how you landed in the work you do now.

Taking the smallest moments and finding tranquility in every single one of them. Because without them, Who are you? Without these memories to keep you afloat, you’d be nothing. You wanted to be wherever Dina went because without her, you’d probably be in some dingy apartment eating pizza with static playing on your tv, losing your mind or worse.

God..don't even wanna think about that right now.

So you don’t, instead you watch your girlfriend ramble on about work, finding yourself entranced by her beauty. The way she stops and drops the spoon to occasionally move her hands around while talking, the way the strands of hair that come loose from her bun cast perfectly down her nape. God you loved her, you’d do anything for her. Anything.

“—I swear if I get one more client asking for fucking roses or skulls, Ima lose it!” she exclaims.

You snap out of your thoughts, “Yeah.” you say with a chuckle.

She stops and looks at you, “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

You smile, “I've been listening.” you respond, crossing your arms.

She rolls her eyes and resumes cooking while you walk behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist, “I have, please continue.” you assure her, placing light kisses on her shoulder.

She hums, “Well, I’ve been working on this piece for a friend of mine.” she continues.

You lay your head on her shoulder, “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m really excited!”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Ellie, you remember her, right? From college.”

You nod and hum, “Oh yeah, I remember her.”

“Yup, I’m gonna be doing her left arm.”

“Ooo, sounds like that’s gonna hurt, especially in the armpit area.” you scrunch your face in displeasure.

“Well, she asked me to recommend an area where it’d look good and I suggested there.”

“Ahh—mm…well what’s the design she has in mind?”

“I don’t know, We haven’t gone in much depth into specifics, but definitely space related?”

You hum, “I’m excited for you, seems fun!” you say to her while watching her hand move the wooden spoon rhythmically around the pot until her voice snaps you out of your trance, “Set the table for me, yeah?”

With a quick nod and “Okay.”, you walk down the hall to the dining area. Upon arriving, you see the true mindset of an artist. Like seen when you arrived home, papers scattered midway of the dining table, some blank and some scribbled over unfinished designs that seem not to meet the artist’s high standards. You carefully grab all the papers and pile them into one neat pile.

Placing them aside, you grab Dina’s ipad that lights up immediately upon grabbing and showcases the unfinished sketch on the screen. Ellie’s tattoo, it’s a rough sketch of the design but some prominent details are visible. Upon closer inspection, you can see what looks to be a lightly sketched astronaut with wings attached behind it.

Scrutinizing the image comes to a short end when you hear footsteps behind you. Turning off the ipad and placing it on the stack of papers, you grab the bunch and turn around to see Dina with two bowls in hand, “Hey, sorry for the mess on the table” she says, placing the two bowls down and grabbing the stack from your hands.

“It’s no problem, seen your work. Fucking sick, babe.” You remark.

Your compliment elicits a smile from Dina, “Thank you, It’s not the final cut, but it’s something.”

You hum in response, “Well I like it already, finale or not.” you say with a smile.

The corner of the raven haired girl’s lips curve upward, “Heh, thanks babe.”

You shoot a wink at her and sit down while she sets the supplies aside and sits with you. Looking down at the contents in the bowl, it looks fucking amazing and you tell your girlfriend that. Finally, a real fucking meal. Not some fast food place down the street from your job.

A real meal.

“4:26” is what is displayed on the clock sitting on your nightstand. How stupid of you to think, this’ll be the night you would actually get some sleep. Fuuuchhhkk.. Lying flat on the bed once more, you stared up at the ceiling. The soft breathing of your girlfriend fans lightly on your cheek, only annoys you more. Fuck it, I’ll just take one of Dina’s sleeping pills. Sitting up, you look beside you to see your girlfriend’s figure and looking over her form. You don’t see the pills that usually sit on her nightstand.

Fuck, Where the fuck did she put them?!

Throwing the sheet off your body, you slowly get out of bed and walk over to the other side of the bed. Carefully opening the drawer, you don’t find what you’re looking for. Fuck, she must’ve left them on the counter. Shutting the drawer lightly, you sneak away to the entrance of your bedroom, twisting the knob to exit.

Upon opening the door, you peek your head out to the abyss clouding your vision. You begin your descent into the dark hallway like a bat, gliding your arm along the wall for a light switch. When you’re almost down at the end of the hall, you kick something that goes flying down the end of the hallway.

Fuck..

You quickly find the switch and look down to see what you kicked, Dina’s backpack—Shit—You walk towards it and bend down to pick it up, but stop when something catches your eye. On the backpack can be found a dried substance.

is that blood?—

“Babe, what are you doing with my bag?”

The sound you come to love is now sending a chill down your back; Your girlfriend's voice,

Dina.

AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE; Please look at these links for palestine!! — How you can help Palestine, Why you shouldn’t support tlou/ buy the remastered, Educate yourself, #FREEPALESTINE. Please view these links to better educate yourself. If you could read this entire fic then you can take a few moments to learn and support palestine!

a/n; I know you’re sitting at the edge of your seat (hopefullly) to know what happens next 😭. And trust me I will be posting chapter two soon…maybe? I don’t wanna make promises because a lot of shit has happened in tumblr and my personal life which will hinder my progress of writing. But i honestly love fucking writing, it’s one of the few things that bring joy to my heart. I and I absolutely found joy in writing this chapter and I can’t fucking wait to start writing on chapter two!!! AHHHHH there’s so many fears and discomfort that do come to mind when i think of this fic and i’ll discuss one of them; the little recognition that Dina fic get :(((( i won’t go into detail but i do have to remind myself that this is for my pure enjoyment. GIVE DINA SO JUSTICE WTFFF?!!! And i truly can’t wait to write chapter two!!! Just the anticipation I’m having for it AHHHH okay okay ima stop yapping 😭😭 But i just before i fully stop yapping in my papping, I’d like to thank my two favs, @dyk3ang3l and @elliesprettygirl for listening to my thoughts on this! Especially syd, because whole fuck you really encouraged to me to write this and i love you so much 🤍😭😭. But with that, thank you for reading this, you seriously don’t know how happy I get seeing people enjoy what I enjoy making so Just thank you. And with all that cheesy shit out the way, MAKE SURE TO LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE TO NEVER MISS A BANGER LIKE THIS!!! 💯💯🔥🔥🔥

꒰✰꒱ taglist: @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @whorefordina, @a-little-bit-of-everybody, @les4elliewilliams

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dyk3ang3l · 1 month

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ITS FUCKING HERE YOU GUYS OHHHHHHH MY GOD YAYAAYAYAYAYAY

Reflect

Outline: When all the leads dried up, Ellie is forced to accept the heart wrenching reality that she’s never gonna see you again. Until two years and half later, the unexpected happens. People don’t come back from the dead so, How did you?

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Tlou au + Death and a lot mentions of it + Mentions of suicidal behavior + Angst (alot of it) + Fluff + Self-deprecation + Flashback? + Mention of weapons + Mentions Harm inflicted to R and others + Torture + Depression + Mentions of blood + Mentions of grieving + Mentions of survivor’s guilt + Description of a corpse (I think that’s it, comment if I missed any!)

Previous Chapter -> Chapter two -> Next Chapter

Two and half years ago…

Five weeks after the Calamity.

Get out of bed

Get dressed

walk to…

Everything since the…incident, felt like a task. Obligations that only got harder and harder to complete each day. Shower…check. Make your bed…check. But today was the hardest.

It was your funeral, and fuck was it the hardest task to get done. But she couldn’t miss today, no she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. So here she is, standing beside Joel staring down at her shoes. And the tension being around your family was suffocating. She felt their stares, their fucking stares.

Did they blame her?

Wouldn’t blame them if they did.

The priest’s soft-spoken tone only made this feel more real, “Today we are gathered here to celebrate the life of Y/N L/N, who left the world of the living to start the journey in that of the dead. Though she lives...” his voice faded as Ellie submerges into her overwhelming thoughts.

She couldn’t believe it, you were really gone. This is the first time in weeks since she’s been outside her once vibrant, and happy room, rotting away. Replaying it over and over, thinking what she could’ve done. What could’ve kept you alive.

But if she’s in her head for too long that’s when her self conscious begins to gnaw at her and sometimes enflaming her. She hated herself for letting you down, letting you spend your last moments in fear. Not a peaceful and soft moment, but in one where the world was on fire. Where hands of the devil himself were pulling you back into the pits.

What’ll forever keep her up at night is your scream, and the look of pure terror on your face as you were pulled back before darkness took Ellie’s vision. She often loathed about if your final moments were merciful and not cruel. If it was quick and painless rather than torturous.

God she hoped not—

“May she rest easy now” The voice of the priest disturbs and elicits Ellie to look up.

As the priest finishes the last of your eulogy, One by one everyone begins throwing their roses onto your casket. And when it was Ellie’s time to let hers go, she kisses it as a final form of goodbye and watches as it falls in with the rest.

“Rest easy, angel.”

Present…

“Y/n?”

Every night before today she’d pray. Prayed, that she'd open her eyes and you’d be there, sleeping peacefully beside her—like nothing ever happened. But it never did happen, and she stupidly secretly held on to that possibility. Even if it sounded ludicrous, she still held on to that small hope.

And now that hope was in front of her, getting off a horse. She didn’t want to believe it, she couldn’t. She thought that she finally lost her mind. Seeing your face on different people.

Snap out of it.

She scolds herself, closing her eyes, and taking a few deep breaths. Feeling her face reddening up from embarrassment from how stupid she must’ve seem calling out to a dead person. She doesn’t know how long she stood in the dark, terrified to meet the disappointment that always shined at the end of the tunnel.

“Ellie?”

But there it was, your voice. The sweet sound that could only be heard in her dreams. That euphoric feeling Ellie would get just by hearing it, turned into despair, when she couldn't remember it anymore. Locked and sealed away when she woke up. Like her mind was playing against her. How torturous it felt to be humiliated by her own mind.

But she heard it, one that couldn’t be replicated.

She opened her eyes hesitantly, but in front of her was you. You weren't a hallucination—No you were real and here in front of her face. Tears welled up in her eyes as she rushed towards you, giving you the tightest hug. Not loosening the grip she had around you once because she’d be damned if she did again.

Only once to cup your tear stained face, “How—How is this real?” She stammers, scanning your features. The amount of blemishes that littered your face didn’t ravage your beauty. Her thumb lightly grazed over a scar on your left cheek, What happened to you? She didn’t question you, of course. The timing wasn’t right.

“We have to get them to the infirmary, Ellie.” A voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and looking to the side to see standing beside her was Maria with her hand on Ellie’s shoulder. Still in her frenzy state, she just stares at Maria before replying.

“Yeah, yeah—let’s go.”

She stayed in the infirmary with you for sixteen hours just staring at you as you slept. You were being supplied with the appropriate amount of nourishment via VI. And she just sat there in that uncomfortable ass chair just staring at you, scared to even blink. Because maybe if she did, you’d disappear. She had so many questions rightfully so. But she didn’t want to overwhelm you with them all. You were in a fragile state of mind.

Next morning, you woke to see Ellie already looking at you. Her eye bags were more prominent, Did she not get any sleep? Did she stay up all night just staring at you? “Hey, how are you feeling?” her voice still sounded so familiar, yet so foreign. You just stare at Ellie not knowing if this was real, your mind had to be fucking with you again. You begin to tear up which Ellie catches on immediately, and wipes the fallen tears rolling down your cheek.

As soon as you feel her touch, her finger grazing over your cheek lightly, you gasp. Your mind wasn’t playing with you, you were here. Back home? “Relax, it’s okay, just breathe. You’re home again.” her voice was so soothing, it made your stomach twist into uncomfortable knotting.

“Are—are you real?” you stuttered, not truly believing after everything you’ve been through, you’d see the one person you’ve yearned for—just in front of you. Her freckles, you'd count every night but mess up halfway and give up an hour later out of frustration. Her hazel green eyes, you’d stare into every single moment of the day. Her plumped lips, you’d kiss everyday.

If you had anything in your system right now, you’d barf it all up.

“I am, just relax.” Ellie says, placing her hand on your arm. You look down at her hand gently placed on your forearm as you feel something bubbling inside of you. Not a love feeling but a weird one. Ellie could see it in your demeanor which causes her to remove her hand away with a quiet “sorry” falling from her lips before resting that hand on her lap.

You meet her gaze again, “Are you hungry?” you take a second to respond making Ellie uncomfortable slightly before replying with a small “Yeah.” Ellie nods, getting up and returning with a tray of food. “The nurse left it for when you woke up.” You grab the tray immediately, stuffing your mouth with food as Ellie settles down into her chair.

Ellie watches you before looking away and shifting in that stupid uncomfortable chair while scratching the back of her neck. Contemplating on what to do or say, anything to relieve this tension that strangled her. For a while, it’s just her mind eating at her and when she does finally decide to, she can’t bring herself to look at you when she begins, “I’m sorry for everything...” She whispers. You stop and look at her, confused. “What?”

“I’m sorry for everything.” she repeats in an audible tone, looking at you with tears forming at her waterline.

You catch on to what she’s referring to immediately and shake your head, “No it wasn’t your fault, Ellie.” You say, watching Ellie’s walls she built so high and secure, crumpled.

“No it is all my fault, why you're even in this position. I didn’t save you—“ she says in between sobs. “—I was weak and stupid and, and—“ she stammered over her words, placing her hand over her chest, trying to desperately breathe.

You look at this girl who you called call your girlfriend just cry. You didn’t know how to respond to this random burst of emotion. But one thing was for certain, you never blamed her once. Why would you? It wasn’t her fault, it was the people who captured you. Who ruined you. But you dealt with them.

“I never blamed you, not once.” you set your tray aside and move towards Ellie's trembling figure. Cupping her face gently to make her meet your soft gaze, “never once in that hell I was in did I blame you.”

When Ellie met your gaze, It only made her want to cry more. Throughout those two agonizing years, she sat in her hatred and guilt. She couldn’t accept the fact that you were gone because of her but here you were alive and telling the opposite. It felt confusing.

“What?”

“I never blamed you, Ellie.” You repeated, “You did everything you could.”

“Ellie, no!” you screamed.

You felt your heart drop when the grip your girlfriend had on your hand faltered. But that wasn’t the only thing she lost grip of. Her footing, you could see the fear on her face as she fell off the roof. That’d be the last expression you’d see on your lover’s face.

Fear.

Without the resistance you fall on your back, and you’re met with the difficulty of breathing. Every breath is met with the same irritation of carbon monoxide causing you to cough and wheeze. The fire has already spread to the bedroom and is slowly killing you. It went at a rapid pace up the walls and to the ceiling. The smoke created silhouettes of demons, it was hell on earth. And the devil had grabbed you pulling you with him to inferno.

You wouldn't let him though, no you wouldn’t go out like this. You kicked his hand off your leg, giving you a chance to crawl towards the open window and just as you’re gonna pull yourself up. A voice behind you says in a menacing song-like tone, “You’re too slow!”, and grabbing you by the hair, slamming your head against the windowsill. Upon impact, you felt your world spinning and your ears began to ring. Throwing you on the ground he gets on top of you, wrapping his hands around your throat.

You let out a choked mewl, bring your hands to his face, scratching at him. But to no avail, it only makes him add more pressure, “Don’t fight, it’ll make this more difficult” the gruff masculine voice said. You desperately try to break free but slowly succumb to the lack of oxygen. “Yeah, there you go.” is the last thing you hear before going unconscious.

You jolt awake from a sharp pain to your cheek. “Ah—fuck..” you hissed. Instinctively, you try to lift your hand to soothe the stinging pain, but you can’t. Confused, you look down at the lower half of your body to realize both of your hands are bound to the chair, along with your legs. Your eyes shoot up to investigate your surroundings.

Where am I? Why the fuck am I tied to this chair?

Upon inspection you realize you’re in a dimly lit bathroom. There’s filthy and dry splattered blood on the walls. Looking at the ragged mirrors mounted on the wall ahead, blood splattered and dried in its crevices. The sinks below are a whole nother story by themselves. But what’s more prominent in the room is an amazon of a woman in front of you. Or to help to understand—The one who rather rudely awakened you from your slumber.

Oh fuck..

You have so many questions racing through your mind; Where’s Ellie? Did they capture her too? Is she okay? Or is she dead? Who is this woman? What is she gonna do to me? Where the fuck am I? So many questions that litter your mind like a landfill, but gets soon disrupted by the beefy woman sitting in front of you.

Clearing her throat, she says, “I need your name.” she slouches forward into her chair, placing her elbows on her thighs. Her hardening gaze set on you as she waits for your answer. Your train of thoughts abruptly stops and goes blank. “I—Uhm…Y/n” you respond.

The muscular woman seems amused by your answer, “phff—“ She blows out a breathy snicker, “We already forgot our name? What a world we live in, huh?” She sneers, standing up and walks to one of the broken sinks, grabbing something. But you can’t quite see what it is due to her figure blocking your view, but the sound of a knife slinking out of its carrier is all the confirmation you need.

Your demeanor immediately tenses as the woman turns around with a knife in hand. You begin squirming in your chair, letting out a shaky breath. “Woah—what—what are you gonna do?”

Your immediate reaction makes the woman cackle, “Here’s how this is gonna go” She starts, kneeling down, and putting the knife dangerously close against your skin. “You’re gonna tell me what I wanna know and I won't ruin this pretty face of yours, yeah?” She taunts, turning her head to the side, a sinister smirk displayed on her face.

The knife blinds your left eye from little light that shines perfectly down onto the blade making you wince, your breathing starts to become erratic, “What are you gonna do to me?” you repeat, sheepishly, now staring at the woman in front of you.

“What I‘ma do to you?” She restates your question, “What Ima do depends on your choices.” She answers, grazing the knife gently against your cheek. You gulp, watching the woman as she stares at the knife grazing over your skin, seeming fixated by it before snapping out of her sick trance and meeting your gaze once again with an ominous smile on her face, making your guts twist and turn into unbearable knotts.

“So what’s it gonna be, huh?” She asks, but doesn’t let you answer, continuing, “Gonna die for your friends and that little girlfriend of yours or cooperate? The choice is yours.” She proposes, staring at you keenly as if she could scan your facade hard enough, she’d find the answer within your expressions.

With your choices layed out, you contemplate on your next move. Your landfilled mind only returning and overflowing with more thoughts. Why were you even contemplating this? There was no way in hell, you’d rat on Jackson, on Ellie. Even if you were to, this stranger would have no reason to keep you alive anymore since you would outlive your usefulness.

It was clear what you've chosen.

And the look on your face must’ve given it away because the woman's jaw suddenly clenched. “You seriously think your friends are looking for you? That girlfriend of yours doesn’t give a shit about you.” she insinuates, “because if they really cared, they’d be here by now—“

“Shut your fucking mouth, you dont know what you’re talking about—“ Your booming voice intrudes, you don’t know what empowered you to say that, but you should’ve just bite your tongue because your ears begin to ring as you endure a powerful smack to the face causing your head to fly to the right upon impact.

Turning your head slowly to face the woman, you’re met with an enraged expression plastered on her face, “You wanna keep fucking running that mouth, Huh?!” She spits out, “Better choose the next words out that stupid fucking mouth of yours carefully or I’ll cut your tongue out.” she threatens.

Still dazed from the assault, it takes you a second before mumbling out an incoherent sentence. “What was that?” she taunts, seeming to enjoy your suffering.

“I said—“

“Didn't hear ya, What was that?” She taunts, laughing.

“I said If you cut my tongue out” you huff out, watching her laugh, “how the fuck am I gonna tell you.” you remark.

The sound of laughter turns into silence with an inhuman look in her eyes morphing within seconds before saying, “Don’t say I didn't give you a chance.” She deadpans before plunging the knife into your thigh causing you to let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Interrogate, Torture, and Repeat.

That cycle had been going on for god knows how long. You were merely unrecognizable, the blood and bruising that littered your face was disturbing. You wondered how much more your body could take before death. Every blow she gave you, you wondered, Will this be the final blow? The final blow that takes me out of my misery? You hoped it did every. single. time.

But you didn’t go down, just kept withstanding the pain.

And when she felt like it was enough, she momentarily pauses and asks, “Ready to talk?” With all the strength you managed to gather, you lift your head and speak, “Is-is that all you got?” letting out a weak chuckle that turns into wheezing to coughing. The woman jaw clenches, “You just don’t know when to shut the fuck up, do you?” she sneers before landing a blow against your swollen cheek.

It sends your face slanting to the side upon impact causing you to spit out blood. It was a dumb move to even say that, you knew that. But if you were to die right now, you weren’t gonna die showing fear. You couldn’t show the one thing you knew she wanted to see you express. No, you’re not gonna let her get that satisfaction.

Grabbing your jaw, she redirects your gaze firmly to meet hers. She opens her mouth to talk, but a knock on the door leaves her speechless. You watch her huff in annoyance and look at the door.

“Enter.” she instructs.

The door opens to reveal a blonde woman, she scans the room and her eyes immediately land on you, seeming to scrutinize you.

“What is it?”

The sudden interruption causes her gaze to set on the woman in front of you, “Oh right,” she says softly before speaking in a firm audible voice,”Ma’am, Louis and Regina are here.”

A nod is shot at the blonde,” Alright, take them up to my office. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Alright, and her?”

“Take this one back with the others, she isn’t gonna talk…yet.” That “yet” runs a chill down your spine. You watch the woman in front of you let go of your jaw causing your head to go slack. The rough landing causes you to let out a weak groan as you hear the sounds of footsteps and soft murmurs with the shut of a door following behind it. There was a lot of eerie silence that came after that, a lot of it. You wanted to lift your head up to see what was happening but you couldn’t. Your body was tired and too weak to support that action.

So you waited.

Waited and waited until you heard the sounds of muffled talking and footsteps. The sound of the door opening is when you move your head, looking up you see a different pair of people. A woman and a man, their voices became more apparent.

“Alright, be ready. Ima cut these ropes off.” the woman instructs.

You hiss at the added pressure to your sore wrists as she undoes the ropes roughly, but as soon as the aching pressure is relieved, you fall forward. But the man in front of you breaks your fall, “Shit…Liana really fucked this girl up.” he says with a grunt as he lifts you up.

Liana…that was the woman who I was with…

“Yeah…Let’s hope our little medic can fix her up.” the woman behind you responds in a condescending tone, and ending it with a chuckle.

A gruffy laugh erupts from the man as he throws you over his shoulder which elicits you to groan. They were so rough and careless with you—With that action completed, they began to walk out of the dingy room and walk down a hallway. Your world was literally upside down, you tried to see what this new uncharted territory was, but the swelling around your eyes proved it to be difficult. Every once in a while, light would seep into view causing you to wince.

You don’t know how long you were lounged on this random man’s shoulder, but it’s the sudden halt in their movements that catches your attention. “Alright everyone, step back. New arrival coming through.” The woman announces.

But to whom?

You can’t even process what just happened until you’re on the rough concrete floor. The impact causes you to wheeze and turn on your back. The blinding light above begins to become fainter as the sound of multiple voices only increases the ache in your head.

But one is more prominent than the rest, “Oh my—Alright everyone—Stacy, grab anything we can use.” Her voice is strong and impactful and you begin to feel the softest hands grazing over your face, “Stay with me, sweetheart.” she directs towards you.

Such a sweet gentle voice, a voice you’d only hear from a mother soothing her offspring. It brought you comfort to the aches in your body. Only a little. You really tried to stay awake, obey what you were told to do, but soon darkness invaded your senses once again and everything went to muffled to silence.

Death is many things; Terrifying, Inevitable, Unpleasant, Unpredictable, Unbearable. But in this case for you, death felt right. The only way to stop this nightmare that you couldn’t seem to wake up from. The only way to move on, to become a form of energy in this universe, but a memory to some.

Jackson.

Your parents.

Ellie.

No, you didn’t want to leave. You couldn’t leave, not now! You’re not ready to go. Not when you have to get back to her, your lover. You couldn’t bear the thought of her living the rest of her life believing you’re dead. No, no, You wouldn’t, you couldn’t let it happen! You’ll do anything in your power to get to her, no matter the cost. So wake up.

Wake UP!

A sharp gasp leaves your throat stinging, you shoot up in bed, drenched in sweat. Every inhale you take, you feel the windpipe becoming more and more tight. You place your hand on your chest, and desperately try to breathe. It’s until you feel a hand on your back that snaps out of it.

“Breathe, Y/n. Breathe.” The familiar voice says.

No, It couldn’t be.

The drumming in your chest only becomes more erratic as you hesitate to look beside you. This can’t be real. Until you do and see the face you thought you’d never see again.

“E-ellie.” you stammer, tears forming at the waterline.

“Yeah, I’m here baby. Just breathe.” She says gently as she wipes your tears away, “You okay?”

You’re not…how?

“How…how are you real?“

She looks at you, confused, “Real? baby, you just had a bad dream.”

“No, no, This isn’t….no because in my dream—“

“We got separated.” she answers for you.

How the fuck?—Was that all just a nightmare? No, It felt so real. This couldn’t be the reality. You immediately look down at your arms, No scratches, no bruises. You let out a gasp upon seeing clear arms then look at Ellie who’s staring at you with a worried look.

“Y/n, calm down. you’re home, okay?” she says and touches your shoulder.

God, that touch felt so…real. You stare at her with tears forming once again, “Ellie?” you say shakily.

Ellie sees the look in your eyes and immediately pulls you into her arms, “I got you.” she says softly in your ear, pressing a kiss on your head.

You sigh, Everything about this felt wrong. Part of you was screaming to wake up. That this wasn’t real, This couldn’t be, but…another part of you felt peace. Peace, you’ve been searching for your whole life before you met Ellie. Being in her arms, you felt it like you did when you were.

You need want it to be real.

Ellie gives you a gentle squeeze, “Alright, try to get some rest.” she says, letting you go to let you lay down. And you do, lying down on your side. You stare at the girl in front of you as she begins to do the same. Once on her back, she catches you staring and smiles, turning on her side to face you as well.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know…I’m just scared.” you finally admit.

“Scared?”

“Scared…scared, I’ll wake up and you won’t be there.”

“Don’t fear that.” she says softly, moving a strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear. Her touch felt real, it brought more tears to your eyes. “You know that’s just your mind talking. Rest. I’ll be here in the morning, by your side.”

Her reassurance puts you at some ease, some, “Yeah, Okay.” you say quietly.

Your response makes Ellie to move closer to you and wrap her arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You happily embrace this familiar warmth. It always made you feel so safe, so comforted, so loved. As you feel yourself drift back into oblivion, a smile adorns your face.

You’re finally home.

The soft caresses that feather your face cause you to move away and groan in response. Ellie must’ve been drawing on your face! Oh you’re gonna fucking kill her—…What. Upon opening your eyes, you’re not in your girlfriend's infamous room, You’re not laying down on her comfy bed, No, you’re still in that nightmare. Opening your eyes, you see the same older woman sitting beside you with a cloth in hand.

You didn’t wake up with her by your side.

You try sitting up, but she immediately stops you, “Don’t move, dear.” She says gently, helping you lie down once again, “You'll strain something and we don’t want that.” she says with a smile, but god it felt so creepy to you. “The painkillers have already set in so you won’t feel any of the pain for now.”

“Painkillers…Where…where am I?” You lift your hand to rub your forehead with a groan.

“Yes—You’re in Cell B.”

“Cell B?”

“Yes, Cell B.” she confirms, “You went into shock after taking that fall, so just take it easy. Your body is still fragile.”

“What’s Cell B? Where the fuck am I?”

She settles down the cloth in the bowl beside her and sighs, “If you really wanna know where you’re at, you need to know who you’re gonna be dealing with.” She has this look in her eyes that makes you shudder, but you simply nod and let her continue.

“Well, These people; They’re slavers. They stalk and capture. Sometimes go for big communities and make them no more. They…my community had that same fate.” She says the last part quietly with a glance of sadness in her eyes.

Seeing the look that this woman portrayed enraged you. How could they do this to someone who seemed like an angel sent from god himself?! To anyone for that mattered! This wasn’t right, but it also held so many questions for you.

“And why the fuck hasn’t anyone tried to retaliate?” you said in a louder tone than anticipated.

The woman’s eyes widened and she immediately put a finger to your mouth, hushing you and looking around to see if anyone heard you. As if on cue, a guard came strolling by with a rifle in hand, seeming to be perimetering the area. Your intrusive voice only seems to cause the guard to glance inside the cell and a few people inside with the both of you to stir in their respective beds.

The woman above you seems visibly shaken, but is immediately relieved when the guard doesn’t pay much mind to your outburst. Setting her gaze onto you, her facade hardens slightly, “Don’t talk like that, those types of things get you killed around here.” She warns.

You gulp and nod as she removes her finger from your lips and looks around once again before speaking in a lower tone, “People have before, but they’ve all perished or worse.”

“So….there's no way...outta here?” you say, feeling all of your hope slowly dwindling.

“Yes, but it’s almost impossible. Only way to “escape” is to fight, but everyone here is terrified of standing up against these people.”

“So we encourage them! You said it yourself, it’s almost impossible, but not impossible.” you whisper-yell, “You seriously can’t see yourself living here for the rest of your life!”

“Of course I don’t” she sighs and with her tone softening before she continues, “I have no other choice, dear. I’m getting old and my knees don’t go how they used to anymore. My chances are dismal. So I just follow the orders and avoid getting punishments.”

“Then I'll do something about it. You won’t be—“

“No.” she says sternly, “You don’t even know what you’re up against and with the state you’re in…you’ll die.”

You let out a breath, you didn’t know you were holding. She was right, and you knew it. You couldn't do anything in the condition you’re in, you’d be killed on the spot. So you had to wait. Wait for how long? You don’t even know, but you won’t rush it. Patience brings success—or some shit like that, meet the right people and resources. But for now you need to get your strength up.

“Hurry the fuck up and pass it before they catch us!” Ashley warns with a quiet giggle.

You exhale with a chuckle and pass the stick over to her, “Shut up, you’re just being paranoid.”

She scoffs, “Me, paranoid?”

“Yes, you.” you reply with a smile, watching her inhale then exhale a few seconds after, “How many times have we smoked back here and gotten caught?” you say with a cocky tone as you grab it and bring to your lips.

You watch her huff in defeat, “None…” she mumbles.

“Exactly.”

“Oh, suck my dick.” she responds with an eye roll, taking and bringing it up to her lips. “We should get back anyway, stupid ass Tammy might wonder where we’re at.”

You cross your arms and sigh, “Yeah, I don't need her squeaking in my ear.” you remark with a chuckle.

Your comment eclits a laugh out of Ashley as she throws the joint on the ground and stomps on it with her foot, coating dirt over it as if it never happened.

“Right, let’s go.” she says, beginning to walk back to the others.

It had been a year and half since the whole incident went down. And life since you’ve healed from your injuries hasn't been great. Immediately after you were cleared for work, you were put on the job. It wasn’t light work to get you used to it, No. It was rough, blazing sun hot work.

Forced to work in insalubrious conditions with others plucking various fruits and vegetables. It was the same greenery that would be poorly rationed to you and those around you. Rationing it as if they didn’t have an endless supply of it, just sitting in their pantry. It was one of the many cruel acts these people did.

But you had to consider yourself fortunate, lucky even. That you haven’t gotten a punishment like those unlucky few. Because every single time they'd blow that “death horn” as you called it. You knew someone was either gonna be dead or left to die, bleeding out.

It was a sick guessing game.

And everytime someone initiated that heart dropping tune, a shudder would run down your spine. But what was strange about it was that everyone knew what to do without even being instructed too. Like machines, everyone would drop everything they were doing and make their way to the courtyard.

As if it put them under a trance.

You remembered the first time you heard it. Just after you dropped the last apple into your basket. That twisted melody aired through the establishment causing you to freeze in fear. The ambience of everyone’s demeanor changed from lighthearted to stoic in a blink. It was terrifying to see it without context. But now knowing the meaning behind it, you understood why they acted that way.

You weren’t gonna lie, seeing people die so savagely, it scared you. Made you lose hope of actually trying and planning an escape. You could see it in everyone's eyes; despair and hopeless. And you were starting to get that mentality too.

Hopeless.

Mallory was the only hope you truly had. Just seeing her every single day after a long and rough day working in fields brought a smile to your lips, even if you had no reason to smile that day. She didn’t just earn that title, “medic” she owned it. She taught you the ropes of basic and advanced medical care.

It wasn’t the lessons you loved—well of course you loved it, but you loved hearing the woman talk about her past and dreams as a child. You never knew why, but every conversation you had with her felt like a mother and daughter bonding over fresh cookies, they baked together.

You loved her.

You want better for her.

You knew she wouldn’t get it here—no…with the way they treat her.

It’s impossible for her to live a peaceful life for when she grew too old and can’t move around without complaining about joint pain.

Because the truth was, she was getting older. Time wasn’t stopping for her. And you could see it. And you’d be lying out of your ass if you didn’t say you were worried about her. The endless nights of caring for wounded people, was taking a toll on the old woman's body.

That sweet old altruistic woman who nursed you back to health and still does. Scolding you like a little girl who tripped over a rock from being unaware of her surroundings. But you knew she loved and worried about you—all the time.

Parents say they know everything about their child, and in this case. She definitely knew something was up when you started to act weird. Suspicious.

But of course, she never questioned you—mostly because she thought you were grieving. And she’s never questioned the way you grieved—even if your ways of grieving could get you killed or worse.

Now why were you grieving? Omid, it’s one of the biggest burdens you’ll ever have to carry. He was one of your closest friends. One out of the many people you knew, you could truly trust. He was actually one of the people you confided in with your ideas of escaping.

And he encouraged you.

He told you, he’d help you for as long as he could because he had an advance. An advance, so little had, but honestly so many that people wouldn’t want to have. He was Liana’s personal maid, or pushover. He would take you the amount of bullying he’d take from her and her fucking goons.

And he was such a good person, he didn’t deserve any of it.

None of it.

Liana would threaten to kill him in brutal ways in front of everyone if he fucked up—even if it was the little mistake. And of course it was all talk—never bite. Until she did bite, and hard. Hearing from friends, you heard that Omid was tripped on purpose by one of Liana’s members while holding a tray of drinks during a meeting. Spilling all the drinks over Lianas fresh plans for future establishment builds.

It wasn’t pretty finding his body, strung up like a pig, gutted. It broke you, left you in a depressive, guilt trip state. Because you weren’t quick enough. He gave all the information he could find on layouts, patrol routes and more. But you were slow, it was hard finding people who were brave enough to help.

And now your lack of being effective payed it’s price.

Now, you sat in front of his makeshift grave that everyone pitched in to make, watching the dirt falling from your hand as you continuously kept playing with it.

Should’ve been me, not you..

I was slow..

I’m so sorry…

You. Should’ve been, you. Staring at the ground, unable to stare at your friend, even now in death. Your mind is tormenting you for being incompetent. Wiping a tear away, you get up from your kneeling position and finally look at your friend's grave—for the last time.

“I’m sorry, O-Omid.” you say quietly.

It was a mistake that wouldn’t be made again. Because walking away, you leave with a sense of determination—and maybe honor, too. You were gonna escape this fucking nightmare in honor for him. Because the truth is you were scared of losing everyone you loved and being alone.

And that was happening—slowly.

You couldn’t cower in a corner in hopes of a person with more bravery to rise and lead you to freedom because the truth was everyone was just as terrified as you.

So, You had to.

And the following months to now, have been twisted to worse to good. You manage to sum up a large number of people to join. Thanks to the help of a black sheep. Or to be less cryptic—a traitor.

Ada, a rat willing to ruin everything that benefits her, seemed fishy. Because why would a slaver ever think to help you? It smelled like hardcore bullshit—at least at first. Because when she pulled you to the side and began begging you to reconsider—made you feel indifferent.

But it shocked you how alike the two of you were, both what did whatever the two of you needed to do, to survive. Just that she joined a cause that wasn't a good one. She hated every single time that happened to these innocent people, but pretended to be okay with it for the benefits that came with being a soldier.

And now having someone from the enemy side on yours was one of the best things to happen to you, from Omid and Ada’s little hideout she found, it made the process much easier.

From mapping areas to keep stolen supplies, to finding weak spots on the high walls surrounding the facility, to locations after the operation of “Where to go if separated.” You had everything set into motion. Expect one thing, getting Mallory out of here, and agreeing to everything—or some of it. Whether you had to drag her out of here, you’ll be getting her out of here.

She was the only thing that was holding you back.

“Look, I know, this is gonna be hard to understand sigh but—please just hear me out, okay?—Fuck ughh” you groan, running a hand through your hair. You’ve been standing in front of a mirror for minutes—which felt like hours, just rehearsing what you’ll say to Mallory. And every single approach you try to go through with, you couldn’t see the outcome. It felt useless, you went through every sentence starter in your book!

“Still working on what'll you say to Mal?” a voice interrupts your daily rehearsal.

You huff and look back to see Ada who’s walking through the door, “Yeah…”

A laugh flows through the girl's windpipe, “Why don’t you just tell her?—without all this rehearsal bullshit.”

You roll your eyes and face the mirror once again, “Because you don’t know her like I do—She's gonna freak out if I just say; Oh hey, Ima gonna be doing the one thing that you warned me not to do!” you say sarcastically.

“Yeouch…” She breathes out, sitting down and contorting her body forward, looking down at the carefully configured plans.

You sigh in defeat, deciding to try again later, and walk over to Ada to view the plans as well, “Anything new?”

Ada shakes her head, “Nope, but the lady boss is losing her shit over the dropping percentage in food..”

A smile blooms on your lips, “Alright, well, I think we should be set then. I just have to tell Mallory and we’re good!”

Ada just nods in response—weird, “What? You’re not excited to be leaving this shit hole?” You inquired.

“Of course I’m ready to leave this place—just..when?”

You try laughing it off, “What do you mean, ‘when’?”

“I mean when are you gonna tell Mallory?” she restates bluntly, her gaze turned to set on you firmly, “Because it seems like we’ll never leave with the way things are going.”

You’re stunned as you look at the girl below you as she continues, “You tell her today or tomorrow or—“

“or what?” You interrupt, becoming defensive, “you’re gonna leave me?” you accuse.

Your accusation leaves Ada speechless for just a moment before arguing back, “No, I wouldn’t leave you. I’m talking about leaving Mallory behind if it comes to that. We can’t save everyone—“

“Oh fuck you, I’m not leaving Mallory behind! She deserves a shot at a better life!” You remark.

“And the others don’t?” She emphasizes, standing up from her chair, “—‘cause it seems like you've only cared about yourself more than the people around, depending on you.”

You felt every word hit your gut one by one because she was right, you were being selfish. Only thinking about Mallory and not the hundred lives at stake. You’ve been careless as of lately, wasting time and for what?—because you were scared? You’d be the reason if this whole operation doesn't go according to plan.

But you never could think rationally when angry, if it wasn’t you that got yourself in trouble, it was always your big mouth that did.

Just never know when to shut up, do you?

“Right because it’s totally not your fault why I’m here.” you chide sarcastically while pointing your finger in her face condescendingly. The look Ada relays when those words leave your mouth sends waves of guilt throughout your body. Staring at the woman’s expression in front morphe from anger to disbelief in the matter of seconds.

“Fuck you.” She spits out before walking past you and out the door.

You sigh upon hearing the door slam, soaking into your overwhelming guilt. What went through your head to think that was right to say? Oh right—none. You throw yourself onto the now vacant chair. Your head goes slack and is only caught by the palm of your hand.

You stay in this position trying to justify why you say that. You could blame it on sleep, but who the fuck says that? On what?—Two hours?—Three? Shit..when was the last time your head hit a pillow?

With a sigh, you get up from the chair and begin to look over the written plans. Instead of worrying about your recent actions. With every minute passing, you start feeling the fatigue finally catching up with you. Take a break, you deserve it—right? Despite the opposing side of your conscious saying otherwise, you stand up and pace around the room to stretch your aching muscles.

Waddling around the room like a chicken with its head cut off, you stop in front of the mirror once more and just stare at yourself. What’s wrong with you? You feel that guilt creeping up and looming over your shoulder as you stare at yourself. Scrutinizing what’s more prominent to you; the scar on your cheek, the rough and dry spots on your skin, the recent bruise you got as a warning, scaling up and off your imperfections and landing on your hair.

You never really took it into consideration, but your hair was a hazard. Pulling open the drawer, you see the solution to said concern. Scissors. Without any hesitation, you pick them and cut a large portion of your hair. You watch in the mirror as the hair cascades down and on the floor. You don’t stare for long and cut until there’s nothing left to cut.

Hair grows back anyway—it’s no biggie, you continue to repeat over and over in your head as you stare at your reflection. Setting the scissors down, you brush any stray hairs off of you when you hear it. That bone chilling sound—or “The death horn” as you call it, blares throughout the building and through the walls into your eardrums. You wince upon hearing that deafening sound that pumps fear through your veins.

Who is it this time?

In a blink, you’re gone and flying down the winding hallway to the courtyard.

Ada?

Tears blind your sight as you rush towards the end of the hallway and make a sharp right turn.

Mallory?

You make it to your heart-wrenching destination and are met with a crowd surrounding the podium where there’s five people standing on it, whom you immediately recognize—well at least the first three. The leader's voice, Liana, is more prominent as she speaks to the vibrant crowd. And the two behind her on each side are guards, but the last two aren’t identifiable, only seeing the top layout of their heads as the crowds block the rest of their body. You have—No, need to know who the last two are.

They have to be okay—it can’t be them!

Your body is tense with anticipation of finding out as you rush towards the crowd, pushing your way through. The crowds’ voices only intensify the momentum in you. Just as you see an opening to the front and try to make a move for it, you’re hindered from doing so when a hand wraps around your forearm.

The grip is strong and pauses any planned sudden movement which elicits you to glance back at the person. It’s Ashley, her facial expressions covered in worry as she stares at you with tears rolling down her cheeks, “Don't go—Y/n stay here please!” she begs.

Her pleads only feed into your curiosity, Stay?—No, you can’t stay!—oh but you can—“Ashley, let me go!” you began to try to loosen your arm from her grip, but to no avail. Your struggles only are met with Ashley tightening her grip, “No! I won't let you see—Please!” she begs once more.

All her desperate attempts to make you stay are futile, because with one harsh pull, you're released from her grip and stumble back. A bystander catches you before you can truly fall on the ground and once on your feet, you run. Run as fast as you can from Ashley—your protruding thoughts to stay with her. To not look at what lies before you.

Until you do, and god did you wish, this was just a bad figment that your brain made up. That you’d wake up in the comforts of your dirty mattress beside—Mallory. She’s one of the final pieces to the stressful puzzle, a damaged puzzle piece. She’s on her knees, Hands bound behind her back, and blind folded. And beside her is the final puzzle piece—the final nail in your coffin.

Ada, she’s in the same position as Mallory, but not badly beaten as her. Her lip tremors in fear as the woman behind both of them continues to speak, “These two have been selfish and are a danger to our thriving community here.” What?—No…,”Therefore, they need to be dealt with accordingly.” This statement only riles up the crowd and you, “N-no! Mallory! Ada! No, no, please!” You try to proceed forward, but stopped once again when arms wrap over your body.

It’s Ashley's voice that can be heard behind you telling you to stop and how you’re gonna get yourself hurt or worse going up there. But you don’t care—No…not when the two people you let back into your heart are gonna perish in front of you—No, you need to do something—Anything!

“Get the fuck off of me!” you scream, thrashing around her arms.

You try and try but to no avail—you’re not successful. You watch the gun in Liana's hand aim towards the back of Mallory’s head. And with every amount of breath in you—you scream out “no” just maybe…it’ll do something.

“Please, no!” You cry out, but at that moment everything is in slow motion for you. You watch as with no hesitation from the carrier, the gun fires and the bullet goes flying. Your body feels weak—unable to look or stand anymore so you fall on your knees letting out guttural sobs as you hear the sound of her body dropping to the ground and losing all its vitality.

As quick as life came, so did it go.

You couldn’t feel or hear anything—nothing. Not the voice of Ashley or her actions of trying to get you up again—nothing. Well actually…you did feel one thing; Anger. The feeling of it coursing through your veins, but wait…Ada! No, not again! You can’t lose her too—

The sound of a gunshot pierces your eardrums and plays havoc into your trance instantly. The familiar thud of another body falling on the ground causes the crowd behind you to lose all control and sets fear into you.

Who is it this time?

Please look at these links for palestine!! — How you can help Palestine, Why you shouldn’t support tlou/ buy the remastered, Educate yourself, #FREEPALESTINE. Please look at them, if you could read this entire fic, you can take a few moments to learn and support palestine!

a/n; Woah what a journey it was from January 8th to now, and I wouldn’t change any of it. I genuinely wanna thank and send love to everyone who send nothing but love and support, you are the highlight. I am so sorry it took me so long so long to post another chapter, but holy shit we are! As always, thank you sydney and ami for being here to listen to me yap because holy fuck, there were many scenarios that were cut and left it and blah blah. I don’t wanna yap for so long because it is currently four in the fucking morning where I live and I need to go to sleep 😭 BUT I’d like to thank you as always for reading and showing me unconditional love and support. Thank you and I truly appreciate it. So with that out the way, MAKE SURE TO LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE SO YOU NEVER EVER MISS A BANGER FROM MEEE 💯💯💯💯‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥

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