"You do know the way out of this place right?" Wren interrogates.
It feels as if hours have passed by, the heat of the growing flames kissing the back of their necks as Ryder and Wren stumble through the labyrinth of Haven. Ryder knows he has the place memorized, he can close his eyes and see a map of the hell. So why, when he needs it most, does the image fail to flicker? Why, when he's in a limbo of two deaths, does he fall upon every dead end in the building?
"I swear I do just," Ryder doubles over, his hands pressed so hard against his knees that he threatens to leave an indent. "Just give me a minute, okay?"
Haven doesn't look so bright anymore. The air thick and clogged all around them, his body clawing at every smoky breath he inhales. All around them lies gray air that sticks to the lungs like mustard gas. It's too thick to ingest but his body forces him to comply. It's all he has but his body coughs and stings in response. It can only be compared to waterboarding, as if the smoke were water running across his face, so close to being deadly but not quite there.
The air smells of a cloudy rot, the operating room being the first to burn leaving a foul stench of human flesh and fae blood lingering in the halls. Ryder coughs at the scent before his body forces him to inhale until he's doubled over at the waist gagging at the wretched stench.
"Ryder, we can't stay here you can't breath..."
Ryder straightens up, balancing himself against the burning wall as he struggles to stand. He's already lightheaded from a lack of oxygen, it's only a matter of time before he's too out of it to lead their escape.
"And you can't walk," he counters. "So don't be so quick to judge."
Wren's head falls only for a moment, his body sat on the floor with one hand pressed tight to his wound. He's visibly exhausted and the sight of him leaves a guilty residue in Ryder's conscience. If only he had gotten to him before the scalpel, or if they had decided on a plan a week earlier. None of this would have happened to him...
He wouldn't be slouched against a burning wall, cheeks drained of all color like his body was drained of its blood. His lavender eyes void of any brightness, just a dull orb that can't focus on what's in front of him. And he wouldn't be missing an organ, he wouldn't be gaped open held together by some makeshift stitches forged together with a bent needle and shaking hands.
As much as Ryder's mind tries to fight it he can't help but recognize his part in Wren's pain. How this is his fault, how he did this to him-
Wren's head lulls, the action forcing Ryder out of his troubled thoughts and back into the burning situation. "You forget I can read your thoughts."
Ignoring his comments, Ryder helps him to his feet. "We need to keep moving." With one hand pressing against the boy's wounds he leads him from their stray corner and back into the main halls.
The whiteness has been replaced with the pitch black of a power outage, just the blinking lights of the sirens lighting their path. Every few seconds the halls are illuminated with white light before vanishing into darkness once more. The boys creep through the shadows, hiding beneath the sirens blare as they travel through the halls unseen.
The noise of the sirens seems just as deadly as the blackening air, the blare mind numbing at its softest as the sound wails. It's a harsh screech that pierces the ears before fading out and starting back up somewhere further down the hall, a circular sound that boomerangs back to the original spot it activated at.
"Stop!"
A voice yells from somewhere down the hall. The blast of the sirens distorting the sound, stretching the word to the point that it's unrecognizable as it travels down each blackened hall.
"Stop now and we will hold our fire!" The disembodied voice screams out again, struggling to be heard over the alarms.
Ryder pauses at the next wall but his heart continues to race. He's visibly tired, breaths heavy and chest heaving as he doubles over to try to catch clean air from the bottom of the room. Each breath feels as if it could be his last, the fire behind them lighting up the room as it reveals the shadows of an army on their tail.
"Ryder..." Wren starts, a trembling hand grabbing onto Ryder's wrist. "I have an idea."
Ryder pauses at the phrase as if considering the possibilities of what Wren could suggest that he hasn't carefully calculated over the years he has been trapped within these walls. But with the approaching guards, the wave of fire, and the suffocating smoke he will take about any option.
"And wh-what would th-that be?" He pants out before gasping for breath.
"Listen." Wren starts, an authority on his tone that Ryder has never sensed before. "We don't know where the fire has spread to. There's only one exit in this place. Who's to say it hasn't already been burned and that's why we can't find it?"
Ryder rolls his eyes. "So what you're saying is that this is pointless and we're going to die? Great..."
Wren grabs the boy by the neck of his shirt, hoisting him back up before grabbing both his cheeks, forcing him to look him in his eyes. "What I'm saying is that we have to make our own exit. We can blow a wall-"
"And attract everyone to us!"
"We'll take care of the guards!" He whispers angrily, pushing his hand into Ryder's chest. "All that matters is we blow a wall through this oven and run like hell to the woods."
Ryder glances around, the flashing lights ingraining themselves into his mind as the shadows of the guards creep closer. The heat of the flames seem to lick at his neck, the sweat beading at his forehead as he brushes back a curl from Wren's eyes.
"I trust you." He whispers, the fear thick on the tip of his tongue though he swallows it back. "Tell me what you need me to do."
Wren merely smiles before grabbing the other boy's hand and pulling him into a nearby corner.
"Surrender now and there will be no bloodshed, Ryder!" The voice finally connects to a body as the guards round the corner.
They're nothing more than a mass, so many bodies in complete unison that they turn into one. The only thing revealing their multiple identities is the light of the sirens reflecting off the screens covering their eyes.
"Ryder," the front voice calls out. "I know you don't want to do this. Surrender and we won't shoot." The voice negotiates while the mass slowly moves towards the pair backed into the corner.
"There is nowhere for you two to go. Surrender."
"I-I" Ryder starts but collapses into a fit of coughs, his body too weak to stand on its own.
"You can't survive this, Ryder, surrender now and we can help you. We won't shoot." The mass pleads though it raises its guns. A million small circles aimed only at the two of them, Haven's most dangerous criminals only two small, scared boys backed into a corner.
"Ryder...." the voice calls, awaiting for an answer as the rest of the mass takes aim.
"I-I can't. I can't stay here I-"
It's a sound Ryder has never heard before. The sound of a million gunshots firing at once and stilling seconds later, not even a ring of metal ricocheting through the air. Not even the sound of the guns backfiring from the force of the bullets.
Just thunder and then silence.
Ryder finally opens his tightly shut eyes to behold Wren in front of him. His hand outstretched as a million bullets float in the air between them and the mass before dropping to the floor. They scatter against the ground, jangling like loose change as they roll to all corners of the halls. The mass stills, a few murmurs rolling throughout its body before it advances once more, feet crushing the bullets scattered on the ground.
"Don't come any closer." Wren warns, one hand rested on the wall as the other grips at his makeshift stitches.
"You aren't in any condition to make demands." The mass coughs, chuckling at the sight of the fae. "Hell, you can barely keep yourselves standing! Must be regretting starting that fire right about now."
Wren backs further into the corner, his body falling into Ryder's pressed tight behind him as the front of the mass continues to mock them.
"What? You used all your tricks already? I'll admit that the bullet thing was, cute," the main guard scoffs in disgust. "but that's all that it was. You aren't powerful," he spits out the word. "You're a weak, disgusting, filthy, otherworldly creature that deserves this fate-"
The man stills, his gun falling to the floor as his hands fly to his neck, pulling at the guards' armor wrapped tight like a second skin. In mere seconds the rest of the mass drops in a wave, each body grabbing at their clothes, screaming as they attempt to rip them off to no avail.
Ryder watches with wide eyes, one hand on Wren's shoulder though the boy has both hands pressed to his ears, screaming in near agony. It's a sound that rivals the siren, the boy's tears flowing freely as he lets out another scream. It's a scream filled with months of fear, of frustration, a scream that washes over the mass until the unthinkable happens.
Ryder's hand falls away from Wren's trembling shoulders. The appendage falling limp as his eyes stay trapped on the scene ahead of him unable to let go. He watches as each guard falls to the ground, their heads ripped from their body's at the neck. Each body falls to the floor, blood spilling from the neck as their heads roll next to them. Those who managed to pull their helmets off are still stuck in a state of agony, the look of pain in their eyes ingraining itself into Ryder's memory for a lifetime.
Wren's scream doesn't stop until the final few. His body heaving as he wipes away the blood that had splattered onto his forehead, dying his bright curls a dark and dangerous red. With the final head ripped from its body, he finally turns to face Ryder, a little bit of blood still smeared on his forehead.
Ryder can't look away, watching as the blood of at least 400 men drains at their feet, the red blood warm as it licks them. He can't help it, his body convulsing as it forcefully doubles over to vomit.
"Ryder, pull it together we don't have the time for that."
He doesn't listen, his body too busy attempting to physically purge the image from his brain. "You-"
"I?" Wren quizzes, one brow cocked awaiting the rest of the sentence.
"You couldn't have just given them heart attacks or something? You ripped their heads from their bodies! Why?! Why would you- why would you do that?" He gasps, struggling for a single breath as his body works itself into a delirium. "I saw their- their heads get..." he motions the action with his hands before forcibly shaking them, tears beginning to stream down his reddened cheeks.
Ryder attempts to close his eyes, to shut out the thought, but with the darkness comes a clearer view of what happened. It's as if his mind is unable to see anything else, only able to replay the same moment over and over, forced to watch each head be slowly ripped from its trunk before finally popping.
Wren grasps the back of his neck, pulling him up and turning him to face the part where both walls meet. He places a blood stained hand over the wall, shutting his eyes and taking two deep breaths before the wall collapses before them.
Wren raises a brow before gesturing towards the hole in the wall. "After you?"
Ryder swallows. "After me I guess."
He glances around one last time before crawling into the hole, the warmth of the sun already glowing on his flesh as he reaches out a hand for Wren.
"It's time to get out of here."