Chapter 5

“October twenty-first, twenty-thirty-eight. The other two researchers have left; it’s just Ellie and I now. She’s stopped talking to me altogether. The only time we talk is around the operating room or during testing. You’d think that maybe we’d chat a bit more in our flat but I hardly ever see her there. She’s either in the offices or performing tests behind my back.

“That night that I was supposed to talk to her...I never took up the courage to do it. I barely have my hand on the project anymore. Hand? Hands. I hardly have my hands on the project anymore. I think that’s how the saying goes. I barely have my hand…I barely have my hands. God, my mind is scrambled. I’ve been staying awake at night, and sleeping is hardly possible except for when I take my medication.

“I needed answers. At the bare minimum, I needed to figure out what she had been hiding from me. So, I went behind Ellie’s back and found Imelda in the detention center. Unfortunately, she was not the only person there. We only have the detention hall in case of an emergency, but the dorm hall is empty. Everyone is being held in these…prisons.

“I walked into her cell and left the door open, thinking it wasn’t a big deal. When I asked her what was going on, she looked at me as though I was speaking another language. I told her that I had no idea what was happening and that I wanted…no I needed answers as to what was going on. I needed to know why Ellie placed these people here and why she was hiding away from me. I couldn’t believe what Imelda had told me.

“She said that the new person, that man that I didn’t recognize, entered the facility back in August, not alongside the other subjects. Coroz, that was his name. He would be subject 309, the last chip to finish Series 09, making this our first official set of successful chips.

“After the attack in August, she was separated from him but believes he’s still on this floor. She also knew that project W.H.I.P has not only been defunded but also…officially terminated.

“Back when Imelda attacked me, she didn’t know I was not a part of Ellie’s plan, whatever that may be. She said something rather daunting, ‘I don’t care if you’re telling the truth or not. I’ll stop this project, even if I have to kill you both.’

“All of a sudden, Ellie was there, standing between me and the door. I asked how much she heard from Imelda, and she said everything. I asked her if it was true, that we had been officially terminated; and she said yes. I couldn’t believe it. It all makes sense, but at the same time, it feels like everything was a lie. This can’t be true, right?!

“Ellie told me that we have a chance of making successful chips and offered me a deal. At that moment I froze…had no time to think.

“Before I could say another word, Imelda suddenly pushed me out of the way, and I watched her run down the hall. Ellie shoved me into the cell and locked me in here. I always keep my recorder on me; that’s how I’m able to record this now. I’m still in shock. No, no it’s not true. Imelda has to be lying to me, right?! And this deal, I-I don’t know if I can take it. I won’t take it. She’s already taken this too far. Is there really any going back?”

Coroz takes out a pen, giggling, “Snatched this from Malva, hope she don’ mind.” He strolls into the bathroom and grabs two sheets of toilet paper. “Now, don’ prison shank me or anythin’, but I don' know the entire lab. I mean, this place is ‘bout eight floors, but I’ve only roamed ‘bout four of them. Two of ‘em are useless to us, just a gym and the crustiest cafeteria you’ll evea’ see in your life, but all we need to know are these two to get to the elevator, so don' leave them.”

He roughly scratches a square onto the paper, demonstrating a floorplan somewhere in the facility. The square has four smaller squares attached to the inside corners and a square interconnecting the four of them; it roughly resembles a rib cage.

Coroz goes back into the bathroom and struggles to take the roll of toilet paper out of its container as the rattling metal echoes loudly in the packed room. With one quick jolt, he pulls the roll out and unravels the thin tube. Tearing the sheets into small strips, he begins to write labels. His sloppy handwriting roughly writes the word “cells” in one leaf and places it on the top left square.

“Listen, this is where we are-” he points at the top left square. “So if we run straight to the nearby door, which is the one on the right-“ he points down the hall, “-we’d end up in this hall. We’s gon’na make another right and keep runnin’ down this hall.” He runs his finger along the right side of the inner square, reaching a cross-path. “Here, we goin’ make a right. Whatevea’ ya do, don’t make anotha’ left; you’s goin’ be in a tiny lab, and I doubt you’ll be able to have the leisure to find ya’ way back. Ya’ got it?” He writes another leaf labeled “lab” and places it outside the entire plan on the left side of the square in between the two smaller squares on each corner.

I nod my head, repeating his words in my head, “Don’t take a left.”

Imelda’s thought disrupts mine, “Take that left.”

“Alright,” exclaims Coroz, “So now when you make that right, keep goin’ down, and you’ll find anotha’ cross path. This is the only place we goin’ make a left, and we’ll finally make it to the elevator and take the ride out. So it’s right, right, left. Now repeat back, first you take a…?”

I point my finger to the right, and he claps his hands in excitement “Good good, and then a…?”

I remember most of them are going to the right, but which one was left? I point my finger left, and he lets out a sigh of anger. “No, for the love’a god Jada, that’s the otha’ right! Ya know, right, right, left! That left is what’s gon’ getcha killed! Ya’ wan’na know somethin’? It was her takin’ that left that killed Imelda! And ya’ don’t wanna end up like that gal who’s constantly chatterin’ in ya’ ear? Right? So ya’ mess this escape route up, we’s both dead meats. And don’t cha’ dare listen to that Imelda in ya’ head! She’s gon’ getcha killed with her stupid hero shenanigans! Just remember that’s one of the rights! Got it?”

I nod my head; I think I got it.

“Do not listen to him,” thinks Imelda. “I’ll guide you. We need to get to that lab with the extra chips; then you can stop this project altogether. They only have so many chips, and we need to stop them from kidnapping future victims. If we destroy their supplies, they can’t continue to work. We can make it to the elevator after that.”

“Alright,” Coroz once again yells in excitement, breaking my train of thought, “I think ya’ got it down good enough, but I’m goin’ tell ya’ this one time. If ya’ leave this floor without me, we’s both are dead, there’s no question ‘bout it. Now I told ya’ I didn’t wan’na hurt ya, but if I find ya’ somewhere else messin’ up the plan, our deal is done. Understood?”

His childish threats feel empty after he spilled his tragic backstory onto me. I know this guy is bullshitting. The only reason why he kidnapped me in the first place was because he was desperate to get out. I doubt this idiot would try to kill me out of pity revenge. Also, he needs me for this odd plan to work. I roll my eyes at his minor threat.

He lets out a little giggle, the smirk making its return; a shiver crawls down my spine. “Oh, oh ya’ think I’m kiddin’? Nah, you’s gotta understand that I’m chillin’. Malva ain’t gonna get pissed if I go wanderin’, but you?” A sliver of a laugh escapes from under his breath “We got weaponry in our spines, darling. The only thing she ain’t ever been able to test is whether killing a consciousness will kill the body.”

Coroz’s voice has dropped again, and the fearful adrenaline rushing through me is all too similar to Malva’s terror.

“And ya’ know Malva wants a chip that can do all that is intended. Hell, she’s already shown me how to control the chip. Ya’ know, grabbin’ shit outta the air and movin’ the ground. All the fun stuff!” He grabs whatever cheeks I have on my gaunt face, jiggling my head around. “I could kill ya’ in an instant if I got my hands on one of those little testers. If you choose to run off, out of Malva’s grip, oh, she would gladly give me one-” he pokes his finger on my forehead, “-and I could shoot your pretty little brains out in there, only if it pleased me. So don’t play games with me, got it?”

He shares the same smile as Malva, two maniacs with the same brains. It shakes me down to the bone. This is precisely why I still don’t trust him; his mindset is no better than Malva’s. Sure, his intentions may differ, but they both would throw their friends under the bus when it benefits them. There’s no doubt about that, especially considering what I’ve been able to gather from him and Imelda’s past.

“You just need to follow his plan long enough to get to that lab,” Imelda’s thoughts say.

On top of that, I don’t think I want to find out what he’s capable of in the chip. Coroz is definitely not tossing empty threats if he’s implying that he can pull out a gun in there. Malva treats him like a special pet, and if he’s holding her perfect weapon, of course, she will teach him how to use it. On the other hand, I have just been given the crash course. I could barely make the machete, and if he could pull out a gun in an instant, I think I would be at a disadvantage. As the saying goes, I shouldn’t bring my mom’s kitchen knife to a gunfight. I give him a nod and slap his arm away as he releases my face.

His smile stays, but something is off; his shifty eyes make it evident that he’s not telling me something. There is no possible way this plan could be this easy. Learn the map and just run until we get to the elevator? I could do that on my own, so why would he need me?

“Jada,” he chokes up, “There’s just one thing about the elevator.” He looks out into the cell, leans close to me, and begins to whisper. “Before, when I was talkin’ to ya’ about the plan Imelda and I had, I mentioned a key. Well, what went wrong before was that I snatched the wrong thing. We need a tiny purple key she always got in her pocket. Right now, we’re on level eight, and we only have access til’ level three without it. I do know that this is where the docs live, mainly ‘cause I roomed with them a while back. It’s almost like an apartment complex hallway with small apartments: two bedrooms, two bathrooms, ya’ get the gist. I stayed on their couch, and they kicked me out the day that I stole Malva’s bleach ta’ give myself a new look. Either that or it was ‘cause I ate a lot of their food; don’t touch Lily’s coffee, she gets very pissy ‘bout that. So, in other words, the elevata’ does not have a for-sure way out. I also don’t know where the stairs are, so that option is out’ta the window. That’s why I need cha’.”

I’m not liking the way this is going.

“When it comes to pickpocketin’, it’s best to make a distraction while you snatch somethin’ outta someone’s pocket. That way, they don’t stop ya’ mid snatchin’. Malva is goin’ to come back for me to do that same test. Whateva’ she’s done to ya’ she’s probably goin’ to do the same to me. So, when I come back from the test, Im’ma need ya’ to distract her.” He pulls out the pair of scissors he previously stole from her, “Im’ma release ya’, and that's gon’na distract her. In the meanwhile, I’ll take that key from ‘er pocket, and we can book it out’ta here. It’s not too long of a run, so I think we can make it. Deal?”

Hell no, it's not a deal! You’re telling me Coroz’s grand plan is to get her pissed off by releasing me from the zip ties? If he needs a reminder, she almost killed me the last time I got out of restraints alone. Then he’s going to try to steal something from her while she’s angry and run?! I shake my head, leaving him with a perplexed look on his stupid face.

“No. No? Oh ok, I see how it is. So ya’ got some constructive criticism for me, sweetie? Huh? Some way to make it better?”

I make my hand in the shape of a gun, imitating gunshot noises with short breaths.

“She don’ have a lot of bullets. The last time I was with her, she had maybe seven in her package? She spent one on my cellmate, one on the wall when she missed ‘er little partner’s head, and one on ya’ leg. So, logically she must hav’ four or less. She also don’t carry that many with her at a time, maybe at most two. Malva knows she’s scarce, so she wouldn't allow herself to have too many at a time.”

Since I can’t move from the bed due to the restraints, I point toward the pen and toilet paper, asking him to hand them over. Coroz hesitantly passes it, and I write " five bullets " on a sheet.”

Coroz rolls his eyes, “Again, she probably won’t take more than two. I know her; she only carries that thing around just in case someone chooses to do somethin’ shady, so she don’t carry that many with her.”

I can confidently say that she has the five bullets in the chamber, considering that I watched her put them in after shooting me with a blank. Even if it’s only two, she can still seriously injure us both and keep us here, and then we’re both on her bad side.

Coroz made a good point too. He is the only way we can get close to her, so if she no longer likes him, then we’re both dead. Plus, I am pretty sure she would not be merciful with my shot, no matter how many bullets she has; I wouldn't be surprised if my brains were scattered on the walls. I tap on the paper, and maybe he would get my point.

“Fine!” He picks up the Rubik’s cube and sits down on the desk’s chair, “If ya’ think my idea is so awful, then what’s ya’ genius plan?”

I try to think of what we do have an advantage over. We know where Malva lives and where the other kidnapped people are. What else do we know? I feel like we’re missing something.

“Lily’s probably on that apartment floor,” thinks Imelda.

I quickly grab another leaf and scribble, “Lily.” If we find her, she must have a spare elevator key. Imelda is right! When I ran into her in the hall, she mentioned something about being locked up in a room; perhaps that room could be in the apartment that Coroz mentioned. She’s going to try to get out of here, so it would make perfect sense that we could all team up against Malva; three against one would change the odds of us getting out.

“Oh ya’ have gotta be shitting me.” Coroz’s eyebrows fuzz together, “No, no fuckin’ way. I ain’t gon’ spend my one chance at escaping this dump on another crazy lady. What the hell makes ya’ think she’s gon’ wanna help us? What? Just because she was nice to ya’, cha’ think she means good?” He pauses for a moment, and his jaw drops in shock, “Ya’ have no idea.” He lightly chuckles, “She…she really got ya’ hooked around her finger! Do ya’ even know why Malva keeps that lunatic locked up? Huh? Aw man, let me tell ya’ something, she-”

The loud screech of the hall door makes the cell fall into silence as the ominous heel taps fill the empty space.

“Alright, here’s how this is goin’ go. I don’t really need ya’ in the long run. Now with these scissors, I can get ‘cha out’ta those ties, and you can make ya’ own choice. Ya’ either go with my plan, and we go through with this attempt, or-” he slides the scissors just below my feet, “I drop ya’ altogether.”

What does he mean?

“You’s was next to Malva for a while in that hallway, and it would be a real shame if she found out ya’ stole her scissors. Oh! And!” He proceeds to slam his head into the wall twice, allowing the blood to drip down his face, “Ya’ beat up the otha’ successful test subject.”

Oh shit.

“What’s it gon’ be, Jada?”

I thought I was ready for when he turned on me, but neither Imelda nor I expected this. I freeze in place, and my mind goes blank. Do I even have a choice that won’t kill me? The slow heels click closer and closer, counting down every second I waste trying to decide between two terrible fates.

Coroz begins to slam on the door, screaming, “Help! Malva please!”

Imelda’s hand grabs my shoulder once again, similar to how she did in the cafeteria, and her voice yells into my ears, “Run! Run now!”

I grab the scissors from the floor while Coroz still screams with his back turned away from me. The dull blades take a lot of effort to chew through the plastic, bending it before making a minor incision. The heels begin to tap faster as Malva hastes down the hall. In one final squeeze, the plastic finally rips through, and the restraints release. I rapidly pull them off, leaving them hanging on the bedframe, and shove the scissors into my back pocket.

I need to make a decision and fast. I don’t think Coroz will be able to take the key from Malva. Something else tells me that this is all too convenient. Why would she come back right as we were in the middle of arguing the escape plan? And why did it take her so long to get Coroz’s tester? The testing facility can’t be too far from here, so it shouldn’t have taken her more than five minutes, but it feels like it’s been at least twenty. There has to be something Coroz did not take into consideration. It’s all too perfect.

My heart suddenly sinks to my stomach as Imelda realizes something.

“The security camera,” she thinks.

I look at the top corner of the room and see a small security camera sphere. Even though the light is not blinking, that doesn’t mean it’s not functional. Maybe Malva didn’t only go to get a tester. Perhaps she was watching us from another room, and heard our entire escape plan.

The heels click closer and closer, and that all-too-familiar click of the revolver rings across the hall. Malva fills her barrel: one, two, three, four, and five more bullets slide into their slots. The barrel rolls and clicks into place as she speeds up. Coroz backs away from the door with quivering steps. I don’t think he expected her to pull the gun so soon, but she’s caught us off guard.

Coroz turns to me to see and with a smile, he mouths “You ready?” He turns back to face the door.

Not only does she know our plan, but Coroz is no longer on her side. He’s not going to be able to get that key, but I can’t just stand here and wait for Coroz’s plan B. We don’t have enough time to make a plan B. I need to get out of here and go to that apartment floor, but I would need to overpower Malva to do that. Coroz might try to stop me on my way out, so I need to take him down too. I hate to have to leave him behind, but he’s not going to let me go to that lab.

I run up behind him, wrap my arms around his neck, and slam him to the ground. “What are ya’ doin’?!” he yells.

I’m sorry, Coroz, but you need to stay down. With all of my strength, my foot crashes into the side of his head.

Malva busts into the room, and the revolver’s barrel immediately takes aim for my head. My knees instinctually collapse as I slide under her arm. Malva’s torso whips around in an attempt to grab me. She tries to take a step to keep her balance but falls on her face as Coroz keeps his grip on Malva’s ankle. He begins to stand and looks at me with cold eyes as he shudders under his breath, “I’m gon’na kill ya’.”

I take a sharp right the moment I leave the room, peering over my shoulder to watch Malva get up and kick Coroz back into the cell; a long cord follows him as he falls back in. The door slamming shut rings like a siren, making it official that I am on my own. No, I’m not alone. Imelda and I are on our own. Whatever mistakes or choices I make out here are my own, and I need to rely on Imelda to keep me alive until we get to the apartment. I’m putting all of my trust in this woman. Am I truly making the right decision? Should I be listening to her? I can’t get my mind tangled around that right now; all I need to focus on is the door. Just keep running!

Bang! Bang!

My head shoots down, but I try not to slow my pace. Taking a peek back again, I look at the three bullets left in the barrel.

Reaching the end of the hall, I bash open the door with my body, skidding my feet across the burning floor. I’m trying to remember the map Coroz told me about. The crosspath keeps getting closer, and I try to rewind my memory as I sprint, but it’s clouded with panic. Am I supposed to go left or right? Come on, think! I don’t have much time to think; Malva is right behind me.

Come on. Imelda! I need some help here! Suddenly I remember that this was the cross path with the elevator.

If I make a left, I’ll end up in the lab. If I take a right, I’ll end up at the elevator.

Do I put my life on the line to stop Malva’s terrorism on innocent people, or do I try to reach Lily and escape?

“Stop this,” thinks Imelda. My head begins to pound with a migraine once again, my vision slightly blurring. “You are the only one who can stop this. Now is your chance.”

Imelda’s right. This decision is beyond me. This decision is not just for myself but for the future of this facility as a whole. For the future of those still stuck down here. If I try to reach Lily and I …I don’t succeed…then all hope of someone putting an end to this nightmare will die alongside me. I make a sharp left, the hot floor shredding the skin on the bottom of my feet as I try to keep my balance.

The hall ends, and another door appears. This is probably the lab Coroz and Imelda were talking about, a dead end. If I turn around now, I’ll just run directly into Malva. I need to get in there, follow Imelda’s instructions, and maybe find a way back out.

I burst into the room to see a long table in the middle, with two thick walls as legs and space underneath; it’s accompanied by a swivel chair with worn-down fabric. Someone had smashed the two computer monitors on top, and the keyboard keys spread across the floor. Underneath a tester, there are research papers sprawled across the table with coffee stains covering the words to make them illegible.

The shadows of the long cables hang down from the ceiling, all pointing to a singular chair in the corner. A couple of snake-like lines connect to the broken monitors, some don’t connect to anything, and one connects to a single tester.

Memories of my own screams play in my head and a cold nauseous terror grabs hold of me. My spine crumples at the idea of having that needle stabbed into my spine, and the memory of electrocution pulses through me like a vicious nightmare. I can’t stop now; these fears can’t hold me back. If I never face this, this torture will never end.

Once the door closes behind me, I turn on the lights and freeze in place. A large smear of blood across the floor shoots out towards me, ending no further than a couple of inches from my feet. A loud gasp corks my breath, and it takes me a couple of seconds before my lungs begin to tremble with every breath. Tears run down my face while my hand claps over my mouth. The room spins around me. I can’t move; the smear keeps me in a terrorizing trance. As hard as I try, my eyes won't pull away. All I can do is stare at the large, mocking stain.

This isn’t me. Though my own shock is startling, Imelda’s terror leaves me in a state of panic. She knows this stain. Of course, she does. It is her blood, after all.

As much as I try to move, my limbs just won't let me. Imelda needs to let go of me. I can’t do what I need to if she keeps holding me in this trance. Her thoughts keep repeating…

“Not again. Not again. Not again.”

I listen for Malva’s steps, but they’re nowhere to be found. I guess she went somewhere else, which luckily is buying me a bit more time. But I don’t know when she will return, so I need to calm Imelda down.

I try to look away or possibly close my eyes, but Imelda holds me in a mental lock. For once, a clear memory plays in my head. I watch through Imelda’s eyes as she runs to the table, seeing a small device. She knew the risks of coming here and that at any moment she could die, but yet there was just the smallest hint of joy in the accomplishment of making it to this room. The hope that all of this would end gave her a drive to keep going. There was a secondary spark of hope that flashed in the milliseconds of her grabbing the device: the hope of living beyond this terrible hand life had given her.

As she raises a small device above her head to smash it on the floor, Malva bursts into the room.

Despite the terrible position, those sparks of hope didn’t leave. There was still something deep inside, a desperate wish of some miracle coming to save her. Imelda didn’t want to die, but there was no time to grasp the reality that this was the end.

The world stops, as the traumatization that she experienced at that moment runs through me. That aghast crawls down my spine as every nerve in my body fires at once. The bottom half of my face burns for a millisecond with the same intensity as when that bullet went through my leg, then goes numb. My mind scatters, trying to forget the moment it pierced through her jaw, burning through her throat as it ripped apart the flesh and made a detrimental exit out the back of her head. Imelda tries to forget the feeling of her skin going slack as she fell to the ground, still conscious as her disfigured face bled down her shirt. My throat burns with the vibration of my vocal cords attempting to speak, but the memory recalls the warmth of her blood sliding down her throat and robbing her of the ability to speak. Imelda had tried to put together a string of words, but the movement of her jaw caused the fibers of her torn skin to rip apart more. She felt her own flesh hang down and hit against her tongue as she mechanically moved what was the remains of the muscles on her face. Her hyperventilation left no air to allow the words to leave her mind. All she could do was cry without the mercy of letting out her last words.

That fatal gunshot plays over and over again, causing more tears to fall down my face.

I know it won’t happen again if she just lets me try. Please, I know it was a traumatizing experience, and I’m sorry she had to go through it. She needs to let me go before we both get killed. She may not have made it out, but I will. We will. I will fulfill her dying wish and end this madness.

The terror holding me by the throat doesn’t let me go, but my fingers can unlatch from my jaw. My arms regain their agency to move as I bring them down. I follow Imelda’s memory and haste over to the table alongside the wall with cases of small labeled devices. They’re smaller than the size of a flea, with tiny cables and needles sticking out of them. Three chips are neatly put into cases with blue tape that read “110”, “210”, and “310”. Are those the chips that Malva implemented in our brains? I look down at my hand, “JA209”; Coroz’s tattoo read “CO309”. Could these possibly be more test subjects? No, no way. She’s planning on continuing the experiments, maybe even capturing more people to torment with these chips. I remember Coroz saying I was part of series nine, so if this is series ten, it seems there are three subjects for each chip.

A quick memory of a piece of paper slips into my mind, it reads “Imelda Tan”. Under “Series Number” it reads “109”.

This doesn’t make sense. If Imelda is the first of the ninth series, and Coroz is the second, would I be the third? But if I’m the third, then why am I 209? Also, didn’t Coroz say it went by the seniority of the chip? 209…309… and 109 is dead. Is there a third person in this series that’s alive? I don’t have time to question this. Besides, it doesn’t matter now.

I’ve learned from Imelda’s memory that Malva may come sooner than I expect. With a quick pace, I head back to the door and place the swivel chair under the bar; it’s not going to stop her, but maybe it will slow her down. I then grab the casings and quickly open them, dumping the three chips on the floor and crushing them under my foot.

“The drawer,” thinks Imelda. I rip open the drawer to find ten other chips unlabeled, instantly taking those out of their container as well and smashing them under my foot. The adrenaline pumping through me goes over the roof after I notice what I’ve done. I’ve destroyed Malva’s future of having more victims and a lifetime of work. I need to get out of here as soon as possible.

I know I can’t run out just yet. I’ll likely run into her since we would be running in the opposite direction. However, if I hide and wait for her to come in, I might sneak by and get a head start. It’s a risky plan, but this is the best I have for the suicide mission I put myself into.

Hiding in a brightly lit room will be more difficult, so I run over to the light switch and turn it off. A weapon could be useful so I can have a fighting chance once Malva enters.

I reach into my back pocket to grab the scissors, but they’re not there. It can’t be. I reach into the other side, but once again, nothing. They must have fallen out while I was running. Fuck, what can I use for self-defense? The tester connected to the cables seems to be plugged in; maybe I can take it? Coroz said that having one of those testers would be useful, but I also remember that my body would be unconscious if I use it. If I fell asleep here, Malva would kill me, no doubt; so maybe it’s not the best weapon for this situation.

Everything screams at me not to get near that damn chair, but I might need that tester at some point. Don’t think about it, just go. I empty my mind with a deep breath as I sprint toward the cable and rip the tester from its plug. With tears hazing over my eyes, I shove it into my pocket, just in case I have the chance to use it.

“There’s another one on the table”, thinks Imelda.

I turn around and notice the tester right in front of me. Couldn’t have said something earlier?

“Sorry, thought you would notice earlier.”

Thanks, Imelda.

I’d rather be overequipped than under-equipped, even if I don’t entirely know how to work these. I grab it and put it in my pocket.

I still need a weapon, though—something I can use right now. The clicking of Malva’s treacherous heels finally reappears and creeps closer; she’s no longer sprinting. Probably because she knows she has me cornered. As she comes closer and closer, panic throws every train of thought off course.

There’s a soldering iron on the middle table, melting the table's plastic; someone recently unplugged it. It has a sharp enough tip to be used as a knife, so it’s my best choice.

As I go to pick up the freshly unplugged soldering iron, something catches my attention. Beside it is a circular band big enough to fit on a head with small flat plastic devices crowning the front inner potion. Long cables stretch from the plastics, connecting down to a long cord with a needle. Tapped onto the side of it is the label “C.H.I”. I reach for the device to take a closer look, but soon realize how close the footsteps are.

Abandoning the device, I hide under the table. The clicking of the door nearly makes tears fall from my eyes. The chair placed in front rattles as Malva tries to push her way in. It holds the door closed for a while until she begins to kick it. One, two, three kicks, and the door swings open and slams into the wall. She tosses the chair to the other side of the room as the heels click closer and closer to the table.

A significant drop of sweat falls from the tip of my nose, and the rod shakes in my grip. My heavy breath sounds like someone put a megaphone in front of my nose, so I hold my breath to avoid giving away my position.

“You’re not very clever, are you?” she sarcastically says. The gun’s barrel spins and the tormenting click fills the open room as it transitions to the next bullet. “Imelda. I knew you were thinking of a plan, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this ignorant.” I watch as the black shoes crawl right in front of the table and stop. “Your friend Coroz, I had to go back for him. I thought he would be smart enough to play his cards right; but for you two to have remastered your plan… for him to have betrayed me the way he did…well…you two vermin are as stupid as I thought you were.”

I think she knows where I am. I have to improvise some sort of plan, or I may as well come up and stab myself through the heart with the burning rod. That’s it. I need to stab her with the rod, but how? If I jump up, she will shoot me. I stare at her bare feet slipped into the shoes and the metal rod in my hands, feeling my soul drop out of my body as I notice what I must do.

“Kid, you need to fight. It’s the only way,” Imelda thinks.

I know I said I wanted to get out of here without blood on my hands, but it’s either this or my life.

“And now, you’ve killed this poor woman,” Malva says.

I grip the rod with all my strength, and doubt covers the corners of my brain; I can’t hesitate right now. I don’t want to do this, I don’t, but I need to get a grip on myself if I want to get out of here. My other hand wraps around it, brandishing it like a knife; I raise it as high as I possibly can and bring it down upon her foot.

Malva’s screams of agony cover the sound of the metal scorching her bare skin. Blood pours down her foot into the previous stain where Imelda once stood. The stench of her flesh burning stings into my nose as I continue to dig it deeper and deeper, twisting the handlebar to get it as far into her foot as possible. A rush of adrenaline runs through my whole body, and possibly a hint of joy? No, no joy. It’s just an adrenaline rush.

This is my chance! I need to get out of this corner while she’s impaired. I finally let go of the handle; the rod stays straight up, glued into the foot’s cauterized wound. I stubble to get out of the tiny space and sprint out of the other side of the table, heading straight for the door.

“You fucking-!” Malva yells while her body crumples closer to the wound. Her hand grips her ankle, and the barrel of the revolver points between my eyes. Malva takes a double take at the floor, seeing the remains of the destroyed chips. Just when I slightly open the door, another gunshot rings through the room; my entire body flinches to the right, and a spark hits the door where I would have been standing. I glance back to meet her eyes, burning with a rage that I have never seen in my life. To say that she’s seeing red would be an understatement, as her anger burns beyond anything I have ever seen.

This chase is now personal. I’ve ruined years of her life’s work in a matter of seconds, and now she’s trying to take my life as payment. My adrenaline takes over me; I bolt out and slam the door shut behind me.

I don’t need to sprint nearly as fast as I was going before, but I still push my legs to their limit. I re-encounter the crosspath where I took the left turn and continue sprinting. A door slams shut behind me; I glance over my shoulder to see Malva limping as fast as she can. The rod sticks out of her foot, and the cord drags behind her. For having a rod stabbed into her foot, she can still go pretty fast; I push myself to pick up the pace, expanding the distance between my head and her gun.

I make take sharp left, and my heart skips a beat as the bottom of my feet loses traction, causing me to fall flat. The side of my head slams against the floor, causing my brain to pulse against my thin skull; floaters fly around my vision for a minute, pushing themselves through a white filter. Disoriented from the fall, I stumble my way onto my hands and knees. I need to stop myself for a couple of seconds to feel around my head, ensuring I didn’t crack anything open by accident.

In my peripheral view, Malva gradually closes the gap. She lifts the gun, again taking a perfect aim at my head; I can’t stay on the floor for too long. Before I can thoroughly check around for any blood, I shuffle my way onto my feet and force myself to continue running.

My energy reaches its limit as the elevator comes into view. Each step is becoming more and more skewed, the disorientation causes me to wobble the faster I run. I peek behind me for a second to notice Malva moving quicker than me. The heat from the rod closed her wound, and she’s walking at an average pace once again. The gun still appointed at my head.

I need to keep running! I lean side to side to stop myself from ramming into the wall. The closer I get to the elevator, the faster Malva walks. The most she can do is jog, but even that closes the gap rapidly.

Keep going. I’ve made it so much further than Imelda ever did. I did it. Please, I did everything I was supposed to do. I just need to survive a bit longer. Just keep running; I’m almost there!

I finally reach the elevator, spamming the button as many times as possible while running circles around it; staying in one place would make it easier for her to shoot me. I keep my eyes on Malva as she gets closer and closer.

The door glides open, and I sprint into the elevator pressing every button possible until the third button lights up. My fist repeatedly slams the button to shut the door, looking up to see Malva running towards the open doors; the rod doesn’t affect her anymore. I duck behind the panel as one last bullet flies through the closing door. Malva’s heavy body slams against it, her fingers peering through the door; she holds it from just barely closing. I watch in horror as her fingers wrap around the opening.

No. I’m so close. I’m not going to get this far and not make it up! I need to live! I need to do what Imelda couldn’t! Make this second try worth it! Without thinking, I kick her fingers, hearing two of them snap in the small chamber as they contort in the incorrect direction. Despite her fingers being mangled, she still won’t let go. Malva continues to push on the door with her palm. I kick it once again, crushing the same two fingers. She cries out in pain, retracting her fingers from the door. “Damn it!” she screams. I punch the elevator button to close, and the door clicks shut.

The blood rush is exhilarating as the elevator rises from the floor. My head pounds and aches; something drips down my forehead. I lightly touch what I thought was sweat, and my fingers return with blood smeared on the tips. The adrenaline begins to wear off, and everything feels lighter. I can’t collapse now, she’s still right behind me, so I hope this was all worth the risk. I can’t hold my legs up anymore; at the very least, I need to optimize this elevator ride as a break. I let my legs fold as I flop myself on the floor. The pain begins to kick into full gear.

“We did it,” thinks Imelda. Even though we’re not out yet, I laugh in amazement. I thought we were going to die there, honestly. Was it wrong for me to have expected this to be a suicide run? Well, I’m glad it wasn’t.

I don’t know what to expect when I get there. I don’t even know if Coroz was telling the truth about what’s on this floor; he claims he spent some time here, but I highly doubt it. And it doesn't seem like Imelda knows anything, considering how quiet she’s become. Now that I think about it, that would explain how Coroz kept himself somewhat cleaned; and why Malva was acting so calm around him.

Why was he hesitant about finding Lily? He told me I was “wrapped around her finger,” but I highly doubt that too. Was her kindness an act of manipulation? I hope not; I’m risking everything for her help. Yet, I can’t get the image of the scar on Coroz’s neck out of my head. If he and Malva were working together, then why would she do that to him? Unless it wasn’t Malva.

If Lily is not everything she shows herself to be, I may as well write my obituary. I can’t put my thoughts into order; the weltering pain in my head overwhelms my train of thought. Every ding of the elevator gets me closer to vomiting, knowing I just put myself into the unknown.

“Floor three,” the mechanical voice sings as the doors struggle to open, revealing a small hallway. I pull myself up from the elevator, feeling as though my brain is connected to the floor by a rope, creating tension the higher I push myself. I navigate out of the elevator into the hollow hallway.

As I begin to walk down, I see pairs of names on each of the three doors, each one starting with “Dr.”. The one labeled “Dr. Malva & Dr. Lilywise” is cracked open.

I enter it to find a tiny apartment. On the right of the entrance, a small kitchenette sits on a long plastic table, accompanied by a small humming fridge. A large plastic container sits under the table, holding an assortment of Tupperware, plastic cups, and silverware; a sad excuse for a kitchen.

Picture frames cover every corner of the wall facing the elevator; they are of various people—one of which includes a framed smiling selfie of Malva and Lily in their mid-twenties. Lily’s locs were notably shorter back then, just barely hanging above her ears, a change from the length she has now. Her smile was vibrant, pinching her plush cheeks to the point she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Malva doesn't look like herself in that photo. Her face was not nearly as sinister as it seems now. The smile in this picture was not of malice but just wholesome joy. The red hidden underneath her high cheeks spewed from embarrassment as Lily held one of her hands. Malva’s virgin hair goes down to the middle of her neck; I personally think it looks better than the tiny blond pixie cut she has today. They both radiated a joy that I hadn’t seen in eternity. Something in particular in the photo catches my attention, Lily’s wearing a golden necklace with a J charm.

Another photo hanging on the wall is a wholesome memory of Lily, maybe in her late twenties, kissing another young-looking man on the cheek. He’s a much taller man with sepia skin and a large triangular nose ending with a round tip. His hair has a poorly done fade on the side of thick, wavy hair; and a glowing smile. Lily’s hand is also raised in the picture, showing off a giant diamond ring. In the corner is written “Good luck you guys! Going to miss you, Lily! Xoxo, Brian.”

There are also two framed Ph.D. diplomas, one with the name “Jennifer Lilywise” and “Elizabeth Malva.”

One more photo is hanging in the middle of the wall; it's Lily and Malva standing in a shiny, newly cleaned lab. They’re not nearly as young as the other photos, maybe in their early thirties; that lab looks too familiar. I’m pretty sure that’s where I just stabbed Malva’s foot. They had their hair nicely done for the picture with full faces of makeup, winged eyeliner, and all. Malva is the same age as she is now, but even in this photo, she does not look as horrific as she does today. Something about her is entirely different; the smile looks forcefully strained for the camera but still not insane. Seeing her this gentle and bright in these photos almost feels uncanny. I can’t quite describe it, but it’s more chilling to see how far she’s gone downhill compared to who she was. Lily’s photos are almost bittersweet, and she looked happy in her previous life. What could have happened to these two for everything to have gone so sour?

Against the same wall is a relatively small couch, covered with a couple of coffee stains that they tried to get off with water; it only caused the couch’s old cloth to deteriorate close enough that the stuffing was visible. It’s facing an old box TV sitting on the floor; it looks like somebody pulled it straight out of 2010. An extremely dusty Playstation 4 sits on top with no connection to any power source. The wall across from the kitchenette has two doors, both of them shut with keys shoved into the slots.

The sound of a cry from the room on the further right catches my attention. The rusty metal key inside the door’s lock is still slightly warm. Someone’s recently been here. It’s tough to turn; if the rust didn’t say enough, this lock desperately needs to be changed. Each click of the turn makes the puzzle a bit easier to undo. Pulling and pushing at the door loosens it more until it finally unlatches and glides its way open.

The room is somewhat spacious, with a queen-sized bed sitting in the center. The bathroom door is half shut; however, the room still reeks like sewage returning from the pipes. There’s a small wooden dresser with a beautiful cloth piece lying on top.

I lock eyes with Lily’s bagged eyes as she sits up, trying to break apart a zip tie that keeps her attached to the bed.

Her face is plastered with the same emotion she had when I saw her in the hall, her jaw drops almost to the floor, and she freezes like a statue. Time stops. This is what I’ve risked everything for. I’ve put my life on the line, and Malva is on her way to murder me. Every doubt flies past me one more time; Coroz’s warnings and the arguments Lily had with Malva in the hall ring in my head. Everything is telling me not to go through with this, but I don’t exactly have a choice.

In a burst of emotion, Lily yells, “Jada?!”