Escape the Night ~ Ava's Version of ETN S2

𝑫𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈

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What Was I Made For? - Billie Eilish

2:14 ──────ㅇ─── 3:42

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Here we are. The group of now six lowlives as a certain warman liked to call them. They still try to reel in from just losing not one but two of their fellow friends. Their stamina is low but their hopes lie lower.

Some suffer more than others.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐫 stands on the balcony, desperately asking the universe for a breath of fresh air she would never get. She had gotten rid of her two enemies, but at what cost? One of her best friends. She wonders what would've happened if her friend didn't try to save his opponent. If he wasn't stupid enough to do the noble thing that would end his life as well as the one he was trying to save. A part of her started to resent him for it. But how could she be mad at him for being him? Doing the right thing was always the friend she knew. And he went down doing just that. This did not soothe her.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 picks out a terrible sound amidst the cool breeze. The sound of his best friend crying. As soon as he hears it he draws her closer, wrapping her in an embrace. He isn't amazing at making someone feel better while also trying to make himself feel better so all he could offer was his company. Neither of them seems in a chatty mood anyways. He knew it was his fault his friend had gone down, his mind reminds him every opportunity it gets. And at every reminder, it seems more appealing to just die rather than try to survive, but he wouldn't give up just yet. He somehow still had something to live for and that something is the red-haired girl wrapped in his arms.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 watches the scene from afar. He wishes he could embrace her like that, comfort her, but when he reaches the doorknob leading to the balcony, he freezes. The reminders of their moment on the balcony flood his brain. What were they, is truly the question. So he won't make a move. Not until he has an answer for her. He continues to watch as her taller friend soothes her. He isn't jealous by any means, they've been friends for ages he knew better than to think they were anything but platonic. If anything, he's more disgusted with how beautiful he finds the person in his arms while deep in the mourning process. He made a promise once to never take anything for granted anymore and the last hour was enough of a wakeup call for him to intend to keep it. And that process would start with her.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 silently panics. She doesn't know how everyone else keeps such a cool-toned manner in a situation quite like theirs. Isn't there still another lieutenant to face? Didn't we just lose the smartest member of the group? Aren't there still death challenges? Why is everyone so calm? These were the questions that ran through her head but wouldn't dare to voice. The group would call her weak, vote for her, and she would die. She'd seen what happened to her friends in the past and every situation had a basis of that formula. So, she'll smile and nod, because she wouldn't stand to be called weak. Not tonight.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐧 sits beside the spooked girl on the couch. He always tries to be the leader, the bridge between divisions in the group, but he starts to grow tired of trying, especially after the scene that ended the life of two of their friends. How could they know that the attempts they make going forward wouldn't result in the Sorceress swooping in and killing them all? They couldn't and he knew it. So he sits back into the couch and sighs, letting himself sink into a pit of hopelessness.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭 smiles to himself. He finally got the pest of the man out of his hair. Yet, the nucence's absence also brings a new batch of worries. He knew. The nucence knew about his past doings. Which meant the two outside know just as well as he did. He has two options. Either come clean or eliminate the two standing peacefully on the balcony. He favors the latter, especially with the new information about the doings of the man outside, but he'll still have a think about the idea. Whatever he chose though, had to result in him ridding the evil inside of him. He feels it rising as they near closer and closer to midnight, eating him alive. No matter what it takes, he would survive to see it leave him. No matter how many of his friends' lives it takes.

"What do we do now?"

The Journalist looks down at the Journeyor's eyes, begging for an answer he doesn't have. He sighs, shaking his head.

"I don't know," He answers truthfully, letting a cold breeze hit him. "I really don't know."

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