✭°Damianya°✭ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱᶠ

doorway

Becky pov

"Enter before the gates close, no matter the costs."

I follow her discreetly, Damian signaling to the others that we've found a way in. It pained me to see the people here unfazed that a young girl with her hands and feet cuffed was being dragged across the floor, but I knew if Damian was here it would've been much worse for him.

The marching stopped abruptly, and I quickly hid behind the corner. The masked men were entering a password, it would seem.

"0...0...2...5" Yuri mouthed, looking up from his binoculars. Who would carry one around in broad daylight, like, ew. What other purposes those serve, I don't wish to know in this lifetime.

"Did you hear, midgets? The password is—"

"Yeah yeah, we heard, Grandpa."

Yuri fumed in the corner, and when I turned back around, the gates clanged to a close. Looks like that at least for now the place was deserted.
Loid was already running to the machine, his feet barely touching the floor to create minimal sound . So cool, as always💖.

"STOP DAYDREAMING, BECKY. ARE YOU GOING TO GET YOUR LAZY ASS HERE OR WHAT?!" Damian raged.
"Somewhere inside that pea-sized heart of yours," I grumbled, "A witch is at work."

He ignored me for the rest of the walk inside until something hit him. "Becky," He turned to me. "Please tell me that we know what entrance to the labyrinth Anya took, because if it's never-ending, where do we even start?"

We heard the faint rustling of leaves and crept closer. "Keep walking and you'll find out."

I examined the walls, eventually identifying a subtle misalignment that betrayed its presence. Running my fingers along the stones, I found a loose one. With a sly smile, I lifted it, revealing a concealed, hidden trapdoor that led into the depths of the labyrinth.

Just as the final strands of pink hair slipped through the cracks of the hidden door, I whispered, "Ridiculous."

The atmosphere shifted the moment I placed an intruding foot into the wall, as if it knew I wasn't supposed to be here.

Run , it seemed to breathe down my neck.

Run before it's too late.

"Too late to what?" I asked.
Too late to turn back.

That's when I immediately knew something was wrong. "Flee the grounds!" I cried, stumbling and running guided purely by my instincts, and every so often when my eyes could make out something from the tears, a sea of ​​red handprints covered everything and anything.

It reminded me that past experiments were once released here too, and that they all had awaited the same fate.

The claws that nipped at my ankles, the beeping of a timer, and the screaming and bawling of kids were all too much and all too real.

"It's the corticosteroid," A girl my age was standing still with a feral look in her eyes. "Right, brother?" She stared lovingly at an empty clearing, before spinning around and pointing towards me.

"Aha! I've spotted another one! You're not meant for me, clone, because I don't know who you are and I find you rather bland. Go back to your designated target."

She sure doesn't sugarcoat, just like 2 other people I know. "Me?" I questioned.
She grinned, "Of course not! I'm talking about your friend here." She gestured at thin air, her genuineness showing no cracks.

"Y'know, your long pink-haired friend?"

I looked back, half-expecting for Anya to be standing there, relieved that I'd come to save her.
But there was no one behind me.

"Are you...a clone?" The girl smiled. "So you've finally figured it out. Be careful," She crept up behind me, breathing her final words. "They know you're here. They're watching."

"Always watching."

Bang! I felt her breath shudder. However, the murderer didn't look like he was aiming for me next, and frankly, he wasn't in any state to either.

"Make it stop...someone...anyone!" He implored, and my eyes traveled down to his neck. Imprinted on his neck was a devilish purple hue of the number 018 and rings of bruises, although the bruises were a lighter shade.

"I don't want to kill anyone, truly..!!" His actions turned sluggish, eyes no longer sharp and focused.

The oppressive maze had become both his prison and his torturer. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and beads of sweat adorned his furrowed brow.

"Chase." My eyes roamed his body, taking in his scarred wrists and swollen ankles and the big gasps of air. He took one step towards me, his unsteady gait and a jerky, to-and-fro motion controlling his torso. His The arm was loosely bandaged, and cuts and welts so red it needed some ointment and proper care after we get out of here.

His muscles seemed to protest with each movement, and I had a sudden uncertain thought of that time in Grade 1 when two transferees were introduced to Cecile Hall.
Dante Guerra, and Chase Ricco.

So I knew him for a short amount of time too.
With a calm determination, I led the intoxicated test subject into the clearing. "Reeealllly, theyyy oooverdoshhed meeee." Right now what he needs is some rest.

Chase leaned on my shoulder, his guard down, drowsily twirling locks of my hair between his blood-stained fingers. He began to drift off, nodding every once in a while in a futile attempt to stay awake.

The Briar siblings saw us as they passed by, and they had polar opposite reactions. Yor had both hands over her mouth, eyebrows lifted in shock and a slight blush on her cheeks.

Yuri, on other hand, wore an expression of utter revolt as if he had swallowed a wasp and ate lemon zest at the same time.

I laid down on the concrete floor but didn't drift off to sleep. Chase Ricco really was pretty. With chocolate brown hair, siren eyes, and an unblemished face, he was the definition of captivating.

Tears started to form as Chase shook with a pained look, hands reaching to hold onto someone who wasn't there.

He looked so, so scared.

Chase pov —[in a dream]
I moved with purpose, strides lengthening as I saw someone underneath the willow tree. "Chase, didn't you promise to meet me under the willow?" She wore a soft smile, closing her eyes as I neared.

"Love, what are you doing here?" She shouldn't be here. She doesn't belong in this world. I know that better than anyone.

This is my second life.

"Are you sure it's me that you're meant to treasure in this life?"
"Well, nobody else knows about this place except you, my love." I rested my head on her lap, a beautiful amber brooch on her collar. It was oddly familiar, but I just couldn't put my finger on why.

"The war is over, and our sacrifice was not in vain. Meet me again someday, won't you, my Romeo?" The willow tree billowed and with a gust of wind, she was gone.
"My Juliet, don't leave me again..."