WPOV
Track: you should see me in a crown, Billie Eilish
Hooooly shit.
The kidnapper really is here. Now I feel awful for trying to convince Nico to leave—but, to be entirely honest, my gut is still screaming at me to run and never come back to this place. I've seen more dead bodies in the last two hours than I have in the entire rest of my life—and their faces look like they're literally melting off. I don't know what this robot-voice-person did to them, but it's terrifying, and I would like to never return to this place.
But Nico refuses to leave, and I don't want him to get himself killed. If I'm here, maybe we can take on the killer as a team—maybe I can blind the killer, and then Nico can knock them out.
So I fight the temptation to run. I stay by Nico's side even in the face of death.
The sound of heavy boots fades as the killer walks down a hall. I watch in Nico's eyes as his fear turns to anger, and his hand moves away from my face. I'm a little bit glad about that; it's a little awkward having his hand over my mouth when there's a ski mask in between—I got fuzz in my mouth. I don't say anything about it. Probably that's the least of our problems.
I find Nico's hand and squeeze it. Anger is radiating off him now—we should stay here until he's calmer. I don't want him to run into any bad spur-of-the-moment plans because he doesn't have a clear head—
"I'm going to kill that killer," Nico says, and it comes out low and furious.
"What—?"
He springs off me, darting around the desk. I swear under my breath and chase after him. This is a terrible idea. He's going to get us both killed.
He runs down the hall where we heard the heavy boots, and I pump my legs faster to try to catch up to him. We pass dozens of storage rooms, stacked to the ceiling with boxes. A few of the boxes are open, revealing precious gems neatly arranged inside, but most of the boxes are securely closed and locked.
I can't see the killer anywhere in the hallway with us as I sprint after Nico. They could be in any one of these rooms we're passing. Nico glances into each room quickly as we pass, searching, bloodthirsty.
My legs burn and my lungs ache. I'm not gaining on him; he's determined to catch the killer. We're approaching the end of the corridor, which splits off into a T. The killer could be waiting for us there—!
I manage to reach out and grab Nico by the wrist, and I screech to a halt. He gives me a death glare, but I refuse to back down this time. This killer is literally hunting for him—they said their men were out to get someone, and judging by the look on Nico's face, Nico is that someone.
Which makes it unbelievably stupid for Nico to try to chase this person down.
Nico tries pulling me forward, but I refuse. I'm stronger; I pull him closer to me. He's breathing hard, and now he's looking at me like he's thinking of going through with his threat to knock me out.
He can't go after the killer, not when the killer is clearly after him.
"Ghost King," I whisper, "you cannot fight this killer."
"Sunburst," he says, tugging on his arm in an attempt to free himself from my grasp. "Go home if you don't want to be here. We've had this conversation."
"They are after you, Ghost. Has it occurred to you that this might be a trap? That they know you're going to chase after that killer?"
I don't like having this conversation here. We're surrounded by cluttered rooms, and the hallway on either side of us is long. The killer could be anywhere here, lying in wait, ready to throw acid at us until we look like the dead security guards. The hair on the back of my neck is standing up, and my heart is beating in my throat, choking me with fear.
"Their trap won't matter when I kill them," Nico says, pulling on my arm again.
I can't just let him go, or he's going to get killed—but from what we heard from the killer, Nico's sister is in a lot of danger right now, too. If I convince Nico to hide even just temporarily, that might be enough time for the killer to get to his sister and melt her face off. But if I can't convince Nico to hide, Nico is going to get killed—I know it.
"Let me go first," I murmur finally, trying my best to ignore the fear that squeezes my heart and lungs. "If there's anyone back there, I'll blind them. It'll be a lot harder to kill us if they can't see us, right?"
Nico opens his mouth to argue, but then seems to process that I didn't tell him he has to leave. He just can't go running in first with no plan.
"Okay," he agrees finally. I squeeze his hand one last time, and then I let him go, ready to face my fate.
Except that then Nico is running again, leaving me in the dust.
"Hey—!" I whisper-yell.
Fuck! I chase after him. He reaches the intersection of hallways, and there's a shadow coming from the right side, and fuck—!
A figure cloaked in all black steps out from the hallway and grabs Nico by the shoulders. The killer. They're wearing a gas mask, and every inch of their skin is covered—I can't see any part of them, not even their eyes. Dark cloaks drape off of them like the cloth itself is melting off their body.
In one swift motion, the killer is shoving Nico against the cement walls, and I can only think one thing:
We're fucked.
Word count: 1012
Show of hands, who foresaw that Nico's "I can do everything myself if I have to" attitude would cause problems for him lmao