Are We Partners? | ✓

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The aisle became larger, darker and suffocating when the stone door closed behind them. Hopkins walked in front, aware of Charlie's gun behind him. He couldn't help by smile.

"Afraid of losing the gun for me, Charlie Boy?"

"Very funny, Hopkins," he replied, darting the lantern light across the gray walls. Their footsteps were like a beating drum interrupting the dead ones. "If I recall, you were the one who was afraid of losing."

"What do you mean?"

"Clark." Charlie chuckled. "You never got over the fact that we had a... thing. You lost for me, boy."

"Clark?" Hopkins laughed, feeling happy for the first time in hours. "If you think Clark was yours, mine, or belonged to any other guy, my friend, you're the dumbest son of a bitch I've ever met."

"What do you mean?" Charlie's steps ceased behind him, and Hopkins turned around with a cocky smile hanging on his lips.

"If you didn't understand, I'm not..."

He stopped talking when the deafening sound of gears moving filled the corridor. Charlie looked up, and Hopkins followed his gaze only to see the stone ceiling coming down, threatening to crush them.

"What the—"

"Run!" Charlie shoved Hopkins, jumping over his fallen body and dashing to the exit.

"What did you do, you idiot?!" Hopkins shouted, raising from the ground and running. His chest burned while the stone ceiling was coming closer. "Charlie!"

"I must've stepped on something. Shut your fucking mouth and run!"

With the ceiling getting closer and the exit of the damn corridor so distant, Hopkins gasped. He heard the quick steps of Charlie, his voice swearing, and saw his shapeless silhouette run towards the darkness, leaving him behind. Hopkins stumbled, hitting his head against the cold stone. The sore leg ached, and before Hopkins could scream for Charlie, darkness embraced him.