Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The mission was supposed to be easy, hell, all the kid was, was just a name and a picture to Amanda. Just by looking at him, he really just looked like some punky kid that would steal keychains from Hot Topic, or leave his shoes untied intentionally to be different. The type of kid old people would hate, and young people would be intimidated by, kinda like what Amanda used to be around his age. Well- with a lot less drugs and sneaking out at night, and more just listening to shitty music too loud and bitching about life.

Despite the whole plan surrounding Officer Matthews- some asshat with a power trip- being John's idea, Amanda really had to talk him into the whole “use his punk ass kid as bait” idea, because aaalll of a sudden, “he's just a kid”, and “he's innocent”. He's fucking 17, he steals shit all the time to get his shitty father to notice him, and he looks like he terrorizes neighborhood pets in his free time. John needs to stop being so soft.

The first part of the plan was already done, it spent tireless weeks of John scoping out the perfect victims and tailoring specific traps for everyone. The next was where things got messy. They had to kidnap a bunch of people- easy enough- but then get them drugged and in position, test traps quickly, and lock the house up before anyone woke. A lot of shit to do in 2 hours. 

So they needed a bit of help.

Despite Amanda insisting they didn't need him, John got fuckin’ Hoffman to help scope out potential helpers- fuck no not accomplices, more like whatever Zep was, just some poor schmuck in an unfortunate circumstance, who had the physical strength to be moderately useful. 

And so they found Obi Tate.

 Not too, too much in his file, he’s an ex-arsonist who burnt down some shit, is currently in between jobs, and lives with his sister to help take care of his nieces and nephews. They’ve got enough leverage, thanks to a certain someone's “kick-ass ninja skills” or whatever he called them, she now has pictures of the kids sleeping comfortably in their beds, taken from the closet, doorway, and window, promising them a world without a future unless he did a teensy little favor for John, and by that, of course, she meant kidnapping a few people he didn't know. 

Okay- yeah, she could’ve written it better on the note but shut up, whatever.

It felt too easy, as he was almost eager to help and finish the task as soon as possible, but when you’ve got something that personal hanging over someone’s head, getting them to do the dirty work isn’t exactly rocket science. The guy was desperate, scared out of his mind for the safety of his family. A few carefully placed threats and a couple of photos had him in line faster than she’d expected.

After Obi, Amanda decided to do a bit more research on everyone, mainly just to know what to look out for, and to help John plan out perfect traps for everyone. For Obi, John had this pretty great idea to stick him in a furnace to get 2 needles. While the one was predictably for him, John actually hinted that the second one should go to Daniel, as he didn’t have his own trap and, as far as they knew, no actual way to get the antidote for himself. Also, John was kind of just relying on the hunch that he’d be generous enough to Daniel because of his age, and how Obi’s a family man or whatever.

Next up, Amanda checked out a woman named Laura Hunter’s profile, as she was the first one kidnapped and Amanda was honestly just curious about how John treated another woman with drug problems. Actually, she wasn’t an addict anymore but was roped into being a huge drug mule when she was in high school and college, but then just resorted to petty theft from the retail stores she worked at. To tell the truth, her heart went out to Laura, this shit is easy to get stuck in but she really didn’t think John had any sympathy for users in the slightest, and his word is law. John had designed a trap that involved her walking into a room that almost resembled a funhouse, with about 10 mirrors all showing distorted reflections of herself. The catch was that she had to smash them to find her needle behind the glass, but the second one so much as cracked, an air-pressured shock would go off and the shards would jab out, likely, into her body at randomized intensities per mirror. Something about her having to face herself and how she’s hurt herself more than anyone else. 

John said and explained it better, it sounded much more elegant coming from his mouth than Amanda’s.

Anyways, after Laura, Amanda moved her research to the other druggie on the list, his name was Xavier Chavez and he looked like the human version of a pit bull. He was a drug dealer, super violent, grew up homeless, and ironically enough had a bunch of dogs he’d give his life for. Lotta conflicts in that one. But unlike Laura, he looked like a massive dick and Amanda didn’t feel too bad for this one. His trap was literally just a hole in the ground filled with dirty, used needles from Jill’s clinic. The poor schmuck had to trudge through it to find a needle with a glow stick in it, to unlock a safe with the antidote. A bit complex for Mandy’s taste but goddamn that didn’t sound fun.

Next up was Gus Colyard, some corrupt businessman who did some embellishment or fraud or whatever. Shit was boring, she didn’t read all that. Even his trap didn’t sound too cool or clever, it was some suave, crafty metaphor for greed according to John, but to her, it was literally just reaching through some razors and getting stuck. There was no pizazz or specific flare, it wasn’t even too deadly, just annoying. But it’s not like she wasn’t going to tell John that.

The next person on the list Amanda had to double check all the background for because he just seemed so kind . He was a family man, named Jonas Singer, had a pretty wife, and two cute kids, and he worked as a bank teller. He used to be in a pretty big gang a few years ago and a lot of times he’s been in and out of jail for violence. For his trap, John had relied on his intuition skills, and left this one rainbow number puzzle for him, the puzzle was to simply look at the back of everyone’s neck for a number for the key to a safe with the first antidote. Amanda fussed over how it was hardly considered a test but John said something about how he’s always relied on others' brash thinking, despite having a brilliant mind, and for once he had to work on his own against all the violent thinkers to solve the puzzle and get the needle for himself. Whatever, Amanda Just figured she’d use it as a spare antidote in a best-case scenario.

The final girl in the house, or the “nerve gas party” as she so called it, was a whore called Addison Corday. The weird thing about her was how John gave her a strange look upon seeing her headshot, almost like he recognized her. It was odd, and Amanda wasn’t a fan. For her trap, John had made it simple, easy to understand, easy to do, an easy win. Or so Amanda thought, her trap was to put on a mask that would stick to her face and inject the needle while on her, however the mask would also latch onto her face for a good 30 seconds, and sear her skin, mutilating her face and making her give up on the beauty she used as a weapon. Pretty straightforward.

Aaaand the final so-called party member, was the kid himself, Daniel Matthews. He obviously didn’t have his own trap, cuz Johns apparently not soft enough to spare him from all this but he is soft enough to not death trap him. His morals were… 

Fine. They were fine.

There was little to no other info provided for the kid besides his name address and that he shoplifts occasionally. Oodles of info for his dad though. It really was funny how obsessed with the detective John was, but didn’t really give too many shits about the kid besides using him as a tool. Don’t get it wrong, Amanda didn’t disagree with him per se, she couldn’t, but it just seemed… odd.

Anyways, this isn’t about the kid, so, of course, there’s more info on Eric Matthews, she reasoned, it all made sense, it always did.

They had scouted out the house and set up the traps. Some were perfect—tailored to each person’s specific flaws and sins, designed to make them face their past in the most brutal ways possible. Others, like Xavier’s needle pit, had been a last-minute adjustment. They had to test the traps with mannequins, making sure the mechanics worked, but it had been a rush. If something went wrong, the whole plan could fall apart, and that would be a waste of months of planning. And quite frankly, just embarrassing .

Now, here was where things only began getting messy. John forgot to mention that Amanda would have front-row seats in the house herself. Made some backhanded remarks about how she deserved it for “forgetting to value her life” despite being “a warrior” for surviving. It’s-

It’s whatever. 

It's not like she's gonna question the man who made her, her .

She had to figure out with John how she was supposed to survive and keep the kid alive while being poisoned and in a room with some greedy bitches. They settled on giving a shot of the antidote to each of them before even entering the house. And she already fucked it up by giving it to the kid the minute she saw him on the floor. John instantly chewed her out for it, berating her for how she used it too early and how it was going to wear off too soon. She frantically apologized, but John didn’t want to hear it. He just told her since she couldn't be trusted with the antidote, she didn't have the right to inject herself with her own, and that John would do it when she was unconscious.

She was a fucking mess . Shit was humiliating. 

But instead of taking it out on herself physically- and disappointing John more- she went back to set everyone up. And prompted the kid up. Hoffman laid him flat on his face, it’d be hard to breathe. Fucking asshole .

She finally got a good look at the little punk and, Christ on a stick - the photos couldn't do the eyebags on this kid justice. He looked like he hadn't slept in months. Her eyes lingered on the kid’s hands, the gnawed nails, and the raw, red skin around them. It was strange, seeing him up close like this. In the photos, he’d seemed like just another cocky, angsty teen—an easy target, a pawn in their game. But now, with his breath shallow and uneven, and his face half-hidden beneath that messy mop of dark hair, he looked…vulnerable. 

Human, even. 

And that was the problem. John had warned her about this—how getting too close, too personal, could mess with your head. How you had to keep the lines drawn, sharp and clear, between yourself and the people in the traps.

God- the day John announced his plan to everyone was a messy one. He immediately got a bunch of pushbacks, mainly from Lawrence, saying he refused to put another innocent kid in this hell, just to be used as bait.

“No,” Lawrence had said, his voice firm and unwavering. “I won’t be a part of this if it means dragging another innocent kid into it. You can’t justify this, John. He’s a child for chrissake!”

The room had fallen silent, all eyes on John as they waited for his response. John, however, had remained unnervingly calm, his steely gaze locking onto Lawrence’s. “And yet you stand here, in my presence, after everything you’ve done,” John had replied, his tone cutting through the tension like a knife. “This isn’t about innocence, Lawrence. It’s about choices. The choices we make and the consequences that follow. If we don’t use the boy, the plan falls apart. And if the plan falls apart, more people die. Is that what you want?”

Lawrence’s face had turned an ashen shade, the guilt, and conflict written all over his features. He knew John was right, in a twisted, pragmatic sense, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. “There has to be another way,” Lawrence had muttered, almost pleading.

But John wasn’t having it. “There isn’t,” he said coldly. “And I won’t allow your sentimentality to jeopardize this mission. The boy will be fine if Amanda does her job right.”

And all eyes landed on her for a moment, pleading, and tense. 

“Look,” Amanda had started, trying to find the right words, “This isn’t about right or wrong anymore. If John says we use the detective’s son, we use him. We have this all mapped out on how to get Matthews, and if using the kid gets us there, then that’s what we have to do.”

Lawrence’s eyes had narrowed, a mixture of disappointment and frustration flickering behind them. “You’re justifying murder, Amanda. You’re justifying putting an innocent kid through hell.” He blinked, “The fuck is wrong with you people?” he demanded, his voice rising with a mix of anger and disbelief. His eyes darted between Amanda and John, searching for any sign of humanity, any flicker of doubt.

But Amanda stood her ground. She wasn’t about to let fuckin’ Lawrence of all people- or anyone else make her second-guess herself, not when she had spent so long convincing herself that this all was the right thing to do. She had come too far, done too much, to falter now. “This isn’t about what’s wrong or right,” she repeated, her tone sharp. “It’s about survival. It’s about the bigger picture.”

Lawrence shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You’ve lost it. Both of you. You’re so wrapped up in this twisted philosophy that you can’t even see the line you’re crossing- this is a child .”

“No,” Amanda started, “he's seventeen . He's not exactly a model citizen, either. So stop acting like he's your fuckin’ daughter.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, Amanda’s words hanging in the air like a blade poised to drop. Lawrence’s face twisted with anger, the words she had just thrown at him cutting deeper than any physical wound. She knew it too. It wasn’t fair to bring up Diana, especially not in this context, but Amanda was too deep in this shit to care anymore.

Lawrence opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white, and for a moment, Amanda thought he might actually take a swing at her. But instead, he just shook his head, his expression a mix of disgust and resignation.

John, who had remained silent through the exchange, finally spoke. “This is not up for debate. The boy is part of the plan, and that’s final. If you can’t handle that, Lawrence, then perhaps you need to reconsider your involvement.”

Lawrence knew damn well that John’s threats weren’t empty, he was the only medical professional here. John needed him, but he wasn’t in any position to challenge the threat. His shoulders slumped in defeat, the fire in his eyes dimming. “Fine,” he muttered, barely audible. “But if anything happens to that kid, it’s on you. And you’ll have to live with the fact that some innocent kid died so you could make a point.”

John didn’t respond, and the room fell into an uneasy stillness. Amanda could feel the weight of Lawrence’s gaze on her, a mixture of judgment and pity that made her skin crawl. But she refused to meet his eyes. She couldn’t afford to waver, not now.

The meeting had ended shortly after, everyone dispersing to prepare for their roles in the plan. But the tension lingered, thick and suffocating, as they all grappled with the moral quagmire they found themselves in. Amanda had tried to push it out of her mind, focusing on the tasks ahead, but Lawrence’s words kept echoing in her head.

And with that, no more words were spoken about the kid until the plan was in motion.

Amanda’s hand twitched toward her pocket, where she usually kept a cigarette or two stashed away. Smoking calmed her nerves, gave her something to do with her hands, something to focus on when her mind started to wander. But there was nothing there now—John had made her quit, saying it was a crutch, a weakness she couldn’t afford. And he was right, of course. He was always right. She just wished she didn’t feel so empty without them.

The door creaked open, and Amanda’s head snapped up, her muscles tensing. Hoffman stepped into the room, his expression unreadable as always, his presence a looming shadow that made her skin crawl. He took in the scene with a quick, assessing glance, his eyes lingering on Daniel before moving to Amanda.

“John’s waiting,” he said flatly, no emotion in his voice. “He wants to make sure everything’s ready before they wake up.”

Amanda nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She forced herself to meet Hoffman’s gaze, to stand tall, even though she felt like a mess inside. “I’ve got it under control,” she replied, though her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

Hoffman’s lips twitched into what might have been a smile—or a sneer. It was hard to tell. “Make sure you do,” he said, his tone icy. “John doesn’t like mistakes. And neither do I.”

Fucking dick .

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving Amanda alone with the prisoners and her thoughts. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and rubbed her hands over her face, trying to steady herself. This was it. No more room for doubt, no more room for fear. She had a job to do, and she couldn’t afford to mess it up—not again.

She followed Hoffman out the hallway after he was gone and looked around for John. She wanted to see if he needed any of her help, and finally asked an important question.

Amanda found him, leaning on a wall, adjusting the dosage for a syringe, and he barely looked up to her when she approached.

 “John,” she started, “did you need anything before I-”

“No.”

“Oh,” she pursed her lips, “for this , you are gonna be watching, right?”

John barely glanced up from the syringe, his focus entirely on adjusting the dosage. “I'll be watching, Amanda. But not for the reason you think.”

She furrowed her brow, unsure of where he was going with this. “Then... for what?”

“To make sure you remember what's critical,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “This isn't about your fear or your doubts. It’s about Daniel. You need to protect him, no matter what happens. That’s your only concern.”

Amanda nodded, though she couldn’t shake the unease curling in her stomach. “I know. But what about- me? If something goes wrong—”

“Nothing will go wrong,” John interrupted, his gaze finally lifting to meet hers. There was an intensity in his eyes that made her swallow hard. “And if it does, you won’t be the one paying for it. Not this time.”

Amanda’s eyes widened slightly. She had been seeking reassurance, perhaps some acknowledgment that he’d look out for her, too. But that wasn’t his focus.

He looked back down at the syringe, testing the plunger with a small, deliberate push. “I’ll give you your antidote when you’re asleep. But remember, Amanda—Daniel is your priority. Keep him safe, and don’t let your emotions get in the way.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, “I won’t let anything happen to him,” Amanda promised, her voice steady, even as his words weighed heavily on her.

John gave a small nod of approval, his focus already shifting back to the syringe in his hand. “Good. Now go. Do your job.”

Amanda lingered for a moment longer, searching his face for any sign of softness, any indication that he cared about her beyond her task. But there was none. She was a tool, a means to an end, and that was all.

With a deep breath, she turned and walked away, the resolve hardening in her chest. If protecting Daniel was what John wanted, then she would do it—at any cost. But she couldn’t help the small, bitter thought that if she was so expendable, she would have to find her own way to survive, too.

Amanda hesitated just before leaving, a thought gnawing at her. She knew she shouldn’t care, that this wasn’t the time for sentiment, but the possibility of things going wrong nagged at her. She turned back to John, who was still engrossed in his work.

“John,” she said softly, her voice wavering slightly despite her efforts to keep it steady.

He looked up, his expression unreadable. “Yes, Amanda?”

She struggled to find the right words, hating how vulnerable she felt, “If… if something happens, if I don’t make it—”

“You will make it,” John interjected, his tone final. But when she didn’t respond immediately, he sighed, as if giving in to the moment for her sake. “But if you don’t…?”

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to continue. “I just… I wanted to say goodbye. Just in case.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Amanda wasn’t sure he would respond at all. But then John nodded, his gaze softening ever so slightly. “Goodbye, Amanda.”

The words were simple, almost clinical, but there was a weight to them that she clung to. She nodded back, feeling a strange mix of peace and sadness wash over her.

“Goodbye,” she whispered, turning on her heel before the moment could stretch out any longer before she could change her mind and linger in the hope that he might say more.

But he didn’t. He simply watched her go, his expression neutral, already turning back to his preparations. To him, it was just another step in the plan.

For Amanda, it felt like the end of something—maybe not her life, but something that had once been fragile and human within her. With that final word exchanged, she steeled herself and walked away, focusing solely on what she had to do next. There was no more room for doubt and no more room for goodbye.

She sulked back to the room with the captives and laid down on her back near the middle of the room, not the best spot, as she’d likely get stepped on, but literally everyone else was touching or leaning against the wall, and she wasn’t exactly in the mood to lay in some strangers lap and fake sleep for 2 hours.

And whaddya know, fuckin’ Hoffman strolled back in, and Amanda propped herself up on her shoulders, narrowing her eyes at him, “What else do you want.” It was much more of a statement than a question.

But Mark didn’t respond, he just dropped to the ground on her and jabbed her in the neck with a syringe, 

Amanda writhed and started thrashing against him, “The FUCK-” He depressed the plunger and she instantly felt her vision dip.

“I’m just doing what John asked,” He smirked, “wanted it to be more authentic. Don’t shoot the messenger, babe.”

She wanted to kick and scream and tell him to absolutely go fuck himself, but instead, she just blacked out. 

Amanda woke up with a start, immediately gasping and reaching to check that nothing was on her face. She honestly half expected to wake up with another bear trap jabbed into her jaws. But no, it was just a blur for the first 30 seconds, she felt her stomach lurch, she got off the ground at some point and her whole body shuddered.

She then noticed all the eyes on her as she gasped, a man was closest to her, he stood tall with a kind face and a stubble that looked as though he hadn’t seen a razor in a few days. His eyes were a dark, intense brown, filled with a mixture of concern and urgency. He was leaning over her, trying to reassure her gently. She recognized him from the photos as Jonas .

He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she instantly shook it off because fuck that . His eyebrows knit together in concern, “calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you,” She looked him up and down, “What's your name?”

She opens her mouth to respond, but it's sour as if lined with bile- fuck did she vomit?? Gross. The fuck was in that needle- “Amanda,” Her voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. She spits on the ground, to get the taste out, “Where am I?”

Jonas’ eyes dart around as a nervous smile crawls across his lips, “Good question,” he licks his lips nervously, “we’ve all been asking ourselves the same thing.”

Alright, time to sell this.

Amanda buckles her knees and smacks against the wall, widens her eyes, and frantically grabs around to hold herself up, as shrieks rip from her throat, “No, No, No!”

She flips over and hysterically begins feeling around the room for anything. Yeah, she knew everything about everything here, but she just woke up from being drugged, and she felt like death, so her clueless searching had some sincerity to it.

Everyone just stares, dumbfounded. Jonas pipes up again, concerned, “What are you looking for?”

But she doesn't respond, she's a man on a mission, and finally, Amanda drops to her knees in front of a bricked-up, old-looking fireplace, using her palm to shove whoever was in front of it away so she could keep searching, much to their dismay. Finally, her fingers wrap around a loose-feeling brick, and she pulls it loose, revealing a microcassette recorder.

She holds it up, presenting it, about to press play– when Jonas steps back in, grabbing her firmly and smacking her back against the wall, not harshly but firm enough to keep her there, “Stop! What is this, Amanda?”

Amanda locks eyes with him, he’s dead serious, “everything you need to know is on this.” And she shoves him off and depresses the play button. 

And with that, John’s voice floated around the room, enlightening everyone with their tasks and missions, but also just reminding Amanda about the number puzzle. While John went on, she took in the surroundings and her “fellow” captives. Addison was nearest to her, crouched and rubbing her arms as a sort of comfort. The brunette had a striking look, with her wavy hair falling messily around her face and a sharp expression that spoke volumes about her frustration. She shot Amanda a look, eyes flashing with a mix of irritation and desperation.

A big, brawny man, adorned with muscles and rage that Amanda could only recognize as Xavier finally stopped pacing and clenched his fist as he took in the information, saying he looked frustrated was an understatement. It was almost funny, how cartoonishly pissed he looked, she could already see the steam cloud burst from his ears. He was such a living cliché, he even looked like he was fresh outta GTA 5, but instead of laughing and blowing her cover entirely by doing so, she bit the inside of her cheek and moved on to the next shady figure in the crowd.

And oh, boy, did she find one, Obi Tate, the man himself. The guy who made all of this possible in the first place (not really, but shut up). Amanda kinda found his appearance funny too, instead of the cool, confident man who didn't hesitate to kidnap a bunch of strangers, was squatted in the corner with his hood pulled over his eyes in hopes that nobody would recognize his face. The irony was almost palpable.

Next up, her eyes dashed to a large, sweaty, red-faced man who could only match the description of Gus. He looked extremely winded and out of breath, and his chest rose and fell extremely quickly as he tried (and failed) to keep his composure. He was panicking heavier than everyone else there and was doing a shit job of downplaying it. Gus looked ready to collapse before anything had even happened yet. It was almost laughable, in a cruel, fucked up, kinda way.

Amanda had almost missed the shriveled-up girl slumped against the wall, she was so still that Amanda had almost mistaken her as a premature corpse. Dirty blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders as she peered over at the cassette with tired, blank eyes. Thanks to the power of deduction, she was recognized as Laura. High-end jewelry framed her chic look, and a worn, yet expensive-looking jacket swallowed her up, making her already smaller frame look frail and pretty much dead already. 

Finally, her eyes drifted over to the kid curled up in a ball, occupying the far corner. His arms were locked against his knees and he was trembling slightly. His wide eyes were latched on her, and the tape in her hand. He wore some shitty band tee for a group she’d never heard of, and another shirt underneath that was also too big for him. He looked fucking terrified .

And she didn't even notice the tape had come to a stop until Amanda dropped to the floor, Jonas no longer holding her weight. He stood over and drilled her immediately, “Who is that?”

Addison chirped in, “What does he mean, gas? ”

Oh, shit yeah, she has to sell this still. She dropped the tape and began sobbing, not her best work, but it had them all convinced. 

Jonas continues, skeptical, “How did you know where to find that, Amanda? ”

She doesn’t answer, wiping at her face.

“This is bullshit,” Xavier barks out, storming over to her and snapping the letter up from the floor, and ripping it open to reveal a key and a note, which he whisper-read aloud, “Do not attempt to use this key on the door to this room.”

Aaaand he immediately marches over to the door, Gus trailing behind him, tossing in a “yeah, that's a good idea”, for good measure.

Men are so fucking stupid sometimes, god .

Amanda piped back up, trying to warn him, “No, it's not-” She didn't remember John saying anything about a key. Were there other traps around the house he just didn't tell her about??

Xavier turned back to her and shot her a nasty look, “What else are you gonna do? Sit there?” He scoffed like she was the dumb one here.

She tried again, “The note said not to use the key-”

“Who cares about what the note said?” He turned back toward the door, “This is all some big goddam joke, and I’m about to end it.”

Gus leans in, looking through the peephole, “I don't see anything.” He squints against the door, “there’s nobody out there.”

Xavier glances back at her one last time, “I’m getting outta here, you can do what you want.” Some others had stood up to follow him out, anticipation dragging on their features

She scrambled to her feet, “It's not a joke-” But just as she did so, Xavier turned the key, and a contraption was heard on the other side of the door, a loud BANG reverberated out.

Blood sprayed out in a violent burst, most of it splattering directly onto Laura, who let out a horrified scream as it splattered across her face and chest. The shock of it hit her harder than the noise, and she stumbled backward, clawing at her face frantically, her eyes wide with terror.

Gus’s body crumpled to the ground in front of the door, lifeless, while the others recoiled in shock. The room was filled with the echo of the shotgun blast, a deafening sound that hung in the air like a death knell. For a moment, no one moved, the horror of what had just happened freezing them in place.

“Jesus Christ,” Jonas muttered, his voice shaking as he took in the scene. He started to move toward Gus, but hesitated, realizing there was nothing he could do. He glanced around at the others, trying to keep his own panic in check.

Xavier, still standing near the door, looked down at the key in his hand, his face contorted in anger and disbelief. “Fuck!” he shouted, slamming his fist against the wall. “I thought it was gonna open the door!”

Laura, covered in Gus’s blood, was trembling, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. Addison moved toward her, trying to offer some comfort, but she was shaken as well, her hands trembling as she reached out.

“What the fuck is going on??” Laura gasped, wiping at the blood on her face, her voice thick with fear.

Amanda’s mind raced as she took in the surrounding chaos. They were already falling apart, and it had only just begun. She had to pull herself together, to remember the plan, to keep them from making any more deadly mistakes.

“It’s a trap,” Amanda said, her voice trembling but determined. She looked at Xavier, trying to get through to him. “The note said not to use the key. We just have to listen to what it says.”

Xavier turned on her, his face twisted with rage. “You knew! You fucking knew, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know!” Amanda shot back, trying to keep her voice steady. “But we can’t keep rushing into things without thinking. That’s what he wants. He wants us to panic, to make mistakes.”

“He’s a fuckin’ killer-” Addison panted, exasperated, “He's a killer, let us out! Let me go !” She shrieked, dropping Laura's arm and smacking the wall for good measure. 

“No, he's not. He’s testing us,” Amanda felt her voice crack, “He’s fucking testing us, he wants us to survive. This is a test.”

Jonas approached her, eyes laced with concern, “And how did you know all this??”

Amanda looked away, dead into the cameras, “Because I’ve played before.”

The room fell into stunned silence, every eye on Amanda. Her words hung in the air, thick with the weight of implications that none of them were ready to confront. She could feel the collective tension building, like a taut rope ready to snap.

“Played before?” Jonas echoed, his brow furrowed, clearly trying to piece together what that could mean. “What the hell does that mean, Amanda?”

Xavier’s eyes narrowed, the anger boiling beneath the surface now directed fully at her. He stormed toward her, his large frame casting a shadow over her as he loomed closer. “What kind of game is this?” he growled. “What did you get us into?”

Oh, shit- 

nonononono

Amanda swallowed, her throat dry. She had to stay calm, had to sell this, but the growing suspicion in Xavier’s eyes wasn’t making it easy. “It wasn’t me,” she stammered, “I didn’t put you here. I’ve been here before, in a different trap. I… survived .” The lie came easier than expected, but her pulse quickened with every second of silence that followed.

“Survived?” Laura spat, wiping another streak of blood from her cheek with shaky hands. “And now what? You’re part of it? You’re working with him?”

fUck.

“No!” Amanda protested, stepping back instinctively as Xavier’s fists clenched at his sides. “I’m not working with him. I’m just trying to help us get out of here. I know how these games work. We have to play by the rules, or we’re all dead.”

“That’s rich,” Xavier snarled, his eyes wild with anger. “You survived, huh? And we’re just supposed to trust you?”

“We don’t have a choice!” Amanda’s voice wavered. “If we don’t start thinking things through, more of us are going to die.”

Addison let out a sharp, bitter laugh, her eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and panic. “Thinking things through? Are you serious? A guy just got his head blown off in front of us! You really think there’s some kind of ‘rule book’ for this shit?”

Amanda bit her lip, her mind racing for something, anything, to calm them down. She needed them on her side, at least for now. But Xavier wasn’t having it.

“You’re hiding something,” he hissed, stepping even closer, the tension between them thick. “I can see it. You know more than you’re saying.”

Jonas, sensing the potential for things to escalate even further, moved between them, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “We can’t start turning on each other,” he said, his voice low and firm. “If we do, we won’t make it.”

Xavier hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking between Jonas and Amanda, before finally backing off, though the fire in his eyes didn’t die down.

“I’m not taking orders from her,” Xavier muttered, shaking his head in disgust.

“Fine,” Amanda said, forcing herself to meet his gaze, “but don’t go rushing into things anymore. We’re running out of time.”

The remainder of time hung heavily in the room, pressing down on all of them like a vice. The tension didn’t dissipate, but for now, the argument seemed to have settled. Amanda turned her back on them, walking toward the far side of the room, trying to gather her thoughts.

She could feel their eyes on her, suspicion thick in the air. But she couldn’t let it get to her—not yet. There was still so much ahead of them, and if they didn’t start working together soon, John’s “game” was going to claim them all.

Amanda kept her back turned, breathing deeply to steady herself. She’d convinced them, at least for now. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the fragile peace in the room was teetering on the edge, ready to collapse at the slightest provocation.

As the seconds ticked by, the tension in the room became almost unbearable. The others were either pacing, glaring at each other, or staring warily at the door, as if expecting it to burst open at any moment. Amanda knew what they were all thinking—if they didn’t figure out the next move soon, they’d be dead before they even had a chance to escape.

Just as she was about to speak again, the sound of a lock clicking echoed through the room. Everyone froze, their attention snapping to the door. Amanda felt a chill run down her spine. The door… it was unlocking itself.

The captives exchanged wary glances, unsure whether to be relieved or terrified. Jonas took a cautious step forward, his eyes never leaving the door. “Did… did anyone else hear that?”

“Yeah,” Xavier grunted, his voice low and tense. “The door’s unlocked.”

“No way,” Addison whispered, her voice shaky. “That’s too easy. There’s gotta be something else.”

Amanda’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched Jonas slowly reach out and grasp the handle. He hesitated for a moment, then, with a deep breath, pushed the door open. It creaked loudly on its hinges, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

For a moment, no one moved. The hallway stretched out before them, eerily silent and lined with closed doors—the faint, flickering light cast long shadows that seemed to stretch and warp with every movement.

Jonas stepped cautiously into the hallway, followed closely by Xavier, who still gripped the key tightly in his hand. Laura, still shaking from the earlier shock, stayed closer to Addison, who took on the role of a very reluctant ally, her eyes darting around nervously.

Amanda brought up the rear, every muscle in her body tense as she followed the group into the unknown. Her eyes scanned the hallway, searching for any sign of danger, but the oppressive silence only made her more uneasy.

Xavier suddenly stopped in his tracks, spotting something lying on the ground ahead of them. “Hold up,” he muttered, bending down to pick up a heavy, rusted bat, decorated with tetanus-ridden, jagged nails. He hefted it in his hand, testing its weight. “This might help,” he said, a grim smile tugging at his lips.

Addison moved over to haul a dusty-looking flashlight off the ground and test it out, before shining it at the bulky contraption on the other side of the door, “No joke,” she huffed, “very Kevin McAllister.”

Amanda turns back to the room, Obi shoves his way past her, a brutish shadow, and she just catches Daniel throwing Gus’ coat over his face, granting the poor sap some dignity, “C’mon kid, you don't wanna just rot in here.” He didn’t say anything, casting her a signature “bitchy teenage look”, before complying and wordlessly following her out.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, the goons were drawn to the large wooden EXIT? door at the end of the hallway, a beacon of potential freedom. Xavier approached it with purpose, the key in hand, while the others hung back, their faces tense with anticipation.

Without hesitation, Muscles McGee jammed the key into the lock and twisted. Nothing happened. He tried again, more forcefully this time, but the door remained firmly shut.

“Fuck!” Xavier spat, yanking the key out in frustration. His anger flared, and he raised the bat, swinging it with all his strength at the wooden door. The smacks reverberated across the whole floor, Amanda felt the thuds go through her, like loud beats at a concert.

Xavier swung again, the bat crashing into the door with a loud crack, splintering the wood. But instead of breaking through to freedom, the fractured wood revealed cold, unforgiving metal bars behind it. The sight of them only fueled Xavier’s rage, and he continued to batter the door, each swing more desperate than the last.

“Stop it!” Addison shouted, stepping back as if she expected Xavier to turn the bat on her next. “You’re not getting through that!”

Xavier ignored her, determined to break through, but each hit of the bat produced the same result—a dull, metallic clang that reverberated through the house. Jonas, more pragmatic, shook his head, realizing the futility of Xavier’s efforts.

Daniel flinched with every hit, his fear growing more palpable with each strike. He kept his distance, hands clenched into fists at his sides, his eyes wide and darting between Xavier and the others. 

Damn , who knew just a little noise made the kid lose his tough guy act?

Finally, after a few more futile swings, Xavier let out a frustrated yell and threw the bat aside. He stood there, panting heavily, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “What the fuck?” he muttered under his breath, the reality of their situation sinking in.

Jonas, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward and picked up the key Xavier had discarded. He studied it for a moment before slipping it into his pocket. “We might still need this,” he said quietly, earning a glare from Xavier.

Laura slumped against the wall and wiped some now-drying blood from her face with trembling hands. Her eyes were vacant, as if she was struggling to process everything happening.

Addison piped back up, a sneer pulling at her lips, “Okay so we’ve established that the macho bullshit approach isn't opening the door, Any other suggestions?”

Xavier turns to her, flashing a cruel smile, “I’m sure that body's opened a lotta doors for you. Try using that.”

She marched up to him, pissed, but before she could fucking deck him, Jonas slipped between the two, “Woah, woah!” He turned to Addison, putting his hand on her shoulder and gently making her back off, “You don’t take any shit, do you?”

She grunted, smacking his hand off, Addison didn't owe him an answer. Amanda huffed and started walking to the adjacent hallway. This shit wasn’t going anywhere and, frankly, she was getting a headache. 

Daniel called over to her, sitting up a bit from where he was planted at the steps, “Where are you going?” His voice faltered a bit, but she ignored him. She just had to make sure he lived, she didn't have to be his fuckin’ babysitter. She looked over her shoulder to see Laura following after her. Amanda didn’t care, she hadn’t pissed her off just yet.

The others were bickering some more about some other shit- god they really don't shut the hell up, do they? She heard Laura muttering something to herself and looked back to see her feeling up a wall, “It's a hinge-” Laura followed an indent, fingers pressing against a spot, to reveal a secret passageway, “It’s- It’s a door! I found a door over here!!”

The group quickly gathered around, and Laura pushed the door open to reveal a dark staircase leading downward. The bickering stopped instantly, and they all exchanged uncertain glances.

Xavier looked down the staircase, “Where the hell does this lead?”

“I don’t know,” Laura responded, still shocked at her discovery.

Xavier, sensing that this might be their only option, took the lead, descending the steps into the darkness. The rest followed closely behind, their footsteps echoing through the narrow passage. At the bottom, they found themselves in a large, dark basement, the walls damp and cold to the touch. The air was thick with the smell of rust and decay.

Addison’s flashlight swept across the room, revealing an enormous, rusty furnace. She moved the light to reveal a note taped to the front of it. Xavier stepped forward and ripped it off, reading aloud: “Obi.” He blinked, “What the hell is an Obi??”

“That's me.” Everyone turned to face the spooky guy who had been trying to camouflage the whole time, “It's my name.”

Suddenly, all the lights flashed on, blinding everyone for a good second, and everyone whipped around to see Daniel meekly standing near the light switch, Jonas muttering a “Damn, kid.” for good measure, before turning back to the note.

Jonas handed the envelope to Obi, who ripped it open to reveal his cassette. Okay cool, so finally we’re getting to the real traps, not just the prank show bullshit Mark did with the door earlier.

And the tape played on, everyone listened pretty intently until John dropped the fact that Obi was in charge of kidnapping literally everyone there. Amanda honestly forgot about that part for a bit, but damn did everyone’s faces drop immediately.

After the tape, Jonas turned over to directly face him, shocked “Wait a minute…”

Xavier stepped up to Obi, shoving him back, “Fuck does that mean, kidnap the others?? ” The others started closing in on him too, Amanda’s face of mock horror blending in.

Obi backed up, “How would I know?” He defensively threw his hands up and backed away.

Surprisingly, it was Laura who piped up, “Because you put us here.” Her voice was certain, dead serious, “I know him. I knew- I knew him.” She stammered. “He’s the last person I saw before I woke up here.”

This was cool and all, but truth be told, Amanda cared more for the traps than this messy shit.

Laura charged at Obi, but Jonas grabbed her, Laura tried escaping his grip, screaming at Obi. He whipped her around to face him, “Are you sure ? You better be sure.”

Laura glared back at Obi, jaw clenched, “I’m sure.”

Xavier took her place, grabbing Obi by the shoulder and slamming him against the wall, holding him in place, but before he could say anything, Obi thrashed, trying to get out, “Fuck you! I did what I had to do, you would’ve done the same.”

Xavier scoffed, “You want a choice? You got five seconds or you’re-”

“I don’t know the way out.”

“ Bullshit! ” Laura was fired up again, “You put us in here, you can fucking get us out!”

“No.” Obi rolled his eyes, “I can’t.”

Xavier tightened his grip, “Then you’re dead.”

Obi chuckled bitterly, “In a couple of hours, so are you.” And Xavier loses it, backhanding Obi. 

Addison jumped in, tired of their shit already, “Stop it! Fucking listen to me! While you assholes are killing him, we got two syringes at the back of this oven. Antidotes. We’re wasting time talking to him right now.”

Laura snapped, “Wasting time?? Are you kidding me? He kidnapped me in the middle of the night, he's the key to everything!”

Xavier gestured to the furnace, “And we don’t know what's in those needles, you're willing to stick your arm in there yourself to find out?” He huffed, “This gas thing is bullshit.”

As if on cue, a steady stream of blood begins dripping from Addison’s nose. Her whole face looked pale already, and dark circles had begun forming under her eyes. To put it nicely, she looked like shit. “Yeah?” She wipes the blood off with the back of her hand and flicks it to the floor as if annoyed more than concerned. “Well, what if it's not?”

“Wait, so who gets them?” Oh yeah, everyone totally forgot Daniel was even here , but all eyes went to him. It startled him for a second, “Like- The needles. There’s only two, so which two people will get an antidote?”

Addison huffed, “Well, so far I'm the only one who even believes there is a gas.” She pawed at her nose again and sniffled.

Laura turned to her, “That doesn’t mean anything.”

Xavier grabbed a dagger from where the letter was found and brought it to Obi’s throat, “Work it out later. Right now, he’s going in there, or I'm gonna kill him.”

To everyone's mild shock, the fucking psycho grabbed Xavier's hand and dragged the blade across his own neck, a small trickle of blood running down his shirt. “You outta cut me a little when you say that.” He smirked, “That way I’ll really know you’re serious.”

That was badass . No, really, Amanda had chills from that one.

Xavier lowered the knife, shaken. Obi fucking finally takes a step towards the oven.

“I’ll go in there.” He stops, “But I get one.”

Famous last words.

Amanda’s been waiting for this shit. No more little prank tests, time for a real, life or death, personal test. A shitty guy will get his comeuppance.

Obi kept muttering some shit to himself as he crawled into the furnace. His movements were slow and deliberate, the tension in the room growing with every second. Once inside, he grabbed the two syringes, clutching them tightly.

As soon as he had both in his grasp, the door to the furnace slammed shut with a loud CLANG . The group outside jumped, their hearts racing as the reality of the situation hit them.

“Shit!” Jonas pounded on the furnace door, “Open it! Get him out!”

Obi’s voice echoed from inside, muffled and panicked, “Hey! Help me!”

Amanda watched, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and anticipation. This was it—the moment of truth. The flames roared to life inside the furnace, the heat intensifying rapidly.

Hate to say it, but fucking finally, man.

Obi screamed in pain, trying desperately to pull a lever inside, but it only made the flames grow higher, engulfing him in a searing inferno.

Everyone was panicking, at some point, Daniel ran around to the other side and pointed out the door on the other side, and everyone practically trampled him, running over to it.

To Amanda's surprise, Xavier was the first to try to help, burning his hand while trying to grab the latch, and then trying to smash the little window to help him get out. It was almost sweet until Amanda realized he was just doing it to get the needles.

The whole scene was just god fucking awful. Everyone was running around and screaming, even poor Laura and Daniel were crouched in on themselves. Laura was muttering pleas to stop all the noise, and Daniel was trembling as he tried to block out as many of his senses as he could.

Not that she could blame him, it was no secret how the entire room smelt of burning meat and blood. It could’ve been fine without the context that it was the stench of a human burning alive.

Amanda couldn't process everything, it was too much at once, so she just tapped out. Faintly, she could hear the sound of glass breaking, a whoosh of fire, and a ton of more screaming, but no, she didn't need to be there right now.

Usually, she’d love this. It’s the money shot, but it's too much. Too loud. 

And she's not John.

When she felt like she was back on Earth finally, she realized half the room had left. Half of Obi’s medium-well corpse limply hung out the furnace, one bloodied, charred hand left reaching for an escape it would never get. She could be poetic too.

A quick glance around the room quickly told her she got stuck with the literally two weakest people. The Blondie and the Kid. 

Goddamn it. She’s babysitting again.

Laura was slumped against a shelf, and she looked ready to hurl. If she hadn’t looked bad before, she certainly did now. All color had drained from her face, and long, messy trails of mascara ran down her cheeks.

And Daniel wasn’t doing much better, either. He was still trembling, hands were locked in position over his ears, pulling at his hair tightly, and his eyes squeezed shut tight. But there was no time to dwell on it. She had to pull herself together, if only to avoid babysitting duty. 

Great.

 Just what she needed—a scared kid and a chick who was about to pass out.

“Daniel,” she said, trying to sound kind, but her voice came out more annoyed than anything. She knelt in front of him, giving his shoulder a quick, impatient shake. “Hey, kid, get up. We’re not done yet. You’re not gonna survive this if you keep bugging out.”

Daniel opened his eyes, trying to blink away the tears that had gathered. He looked up at Amanda, his expression somewhere between fear and a desperate need to not look like a total wimp. He swallowed hard, nodding as he tried to pull himself together. “I-I’m fine,” he stammered, even though he was clearly anything but.

Amanda wasn’t buying it– Nobody would, fucking look at him– but she didn’t have the energy to push right now. “Sure, whatever. Just come on.”

She stood up, and Daniel scrambled to his feet, wobbly but determined to keep up. He obviously didn’t want to seem weak, especially not in front of her. Amanda wasn’t exactly the nurturing type, never had any siblings, nor anything to take care of besides herself, and he hopefully knew better than to expect her to coddle him. If anything, her rough approach was probably the kick in the ass he needed, but damn , it was hard to get him to keep it together.

Laura swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice as she spoke. “I just… I just want to get upstairs. Away from all this.” Her voice wavered, but there was a flicker of determination in her eyes.

Amanda looked at her, not unkindly, but still blunt and impatient, as if the answer was obvious. “Then let’s get moving. The others can handle themselves, but we’re not gonna get out of here by fucking around.”

Without waiting for a response, Amanda turned and started towards the door, practically dragging Daniel along with her. Laura hesitated for just a moment before following, her steps shaky but resolute. She just wanted to be anywhere but here—away from the stench, the horror, and the fuzziness of what just happened. 

She hated feeling like that.

Amanda led the way back upstairs, to the room with the EXIT? door, her mind racing with the chaos they had just left behind. Laura trailed behind, her steps uneven and unsteady. Daniel kept close, doing his best to stay calm, but the tension in the air was suffocating.

As they entered the main room, Amanda glanced back at Laura, who looked like she was barely holding it together. Laura didn’t even make it halfway across the room before she slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor. She was completely spent, her body giving out from the exhaustion, fear, and horrors she had just witnessed. Her breathing was shallow, and her eyes were glazed over, barely registering her surroundings.

Amanda watched her for a moment, not sure if she should be annoyed or concerned. 

Great, just great . 

She didn’t have time for this, but she also couldn’t just leave Laura there. With a huff, she turned away, deciding to let her rest for now. It wasn’t like they had many options anyway.

In the corner of her eye, she saw Daniel rush over to Laura, trying to help her sit up, “Laura? Can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered open, “That’s twice I had to wake up here to your ugly faces.” Yeowch.

Daniel disregarded that, and tried again, “Do you think you can stand up?”

Laura furrowed her brows as if offended, “Yeah, but I don't exactly want to.”

Across the room, Amanda continued to ignore them as her eyes scanned the room as she walked over to one of the old, decrepit couches. 

Laura began to sob, her wails bouncing off the dusty walls, “There’s still so much I have to do… So many people I have to talk to…” She sniffled, “This can't be it.”

Daniel held his breath for a long second, and an unreadable look crossed his face, “It’s not.”

Amanda began rooting through the hidden compartments, her hands moving quickly as she searched for anything useful. Rope, a weapon, anything. But all she found was junk—useless crap that wouldn’t help them get out of this nightmare. Her frustration mounted with each worthless item she tossed aside.

Unfortunately, Amanda could literally feel Daniel’s gave burning into the back of her head before he approached her, “Hey, you survived this before, right?”

Amanda barely even looked at him, continuing her search, “I what?”

He stammered, “Uh- this- this guy… whoever did this to us- you said you survived one of his games before.”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah?”

A small smile rose to his face, “That means we can survive this?” 

A long beat passes. 

She doesn’t answer him.

Doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

So he tries again, “Why’d he pick you?”

Amanda actually stopped what she was doing to turn around and face the kid. Her eyes trailed down to her track marks, and she could feel the kids’ gaze follow suit, “I wasn’t being very good to myself.”

She clicked her tongue and went back to searching for anything , “The funny part is, he already cured me of all that.” She looked back at him, “I passed his little test.”

Daniel's eyebrows knit together in confusion, “If you passed- why are you back here?”

Amanda lost her composure for a hot second, and she could swear she felt a surge of lightning brush through her arms. 

Fuck…

She shakes the feeling off and stares dead at the kid, “Killing someone will really mess you up.”

Daniel nodded, staring down at her arms, and she rubbed at her wrists, self-conscious.

He awkwardly continued, uncomfortable by the silence, “How long have you…?” He gestured at her arms.

God this kid really didn't know when to stop, huh?

A scoff, “I started in jail.”

“… What were you arrested for?”

“Possession.” He stared at her, speechless, “Pretty ironic, huh?” 

He still didn’t answer, looking more unsteady by the second, so she continued, “I take it you’ve never been arrested before?”

She already knew the answer, she just wanted to hear him admit it.

“I mean… I’ve been in trouble a few times before… this and that, y’know?”

Was this dumbass really trying to act cool to someone who just admitted they killed someone- Fuck, this kid really needs to get his shit together.

He continued, “I mean, my dad… He’s a…” He stopped himself. Amanda stared at him, intrigued if he was going to make the big reveal easier on himself or not, “He's- he’s a real hard ass.” He stared off, tears welling up in his eyes for a moment, but he tried to turn his face away from her, forcing a laugh, “He’s probably got half the city looking for me, just so that he can kick my ass.”

Amanda didn’t really know the detective. Sure, John was pretty obsessed with the guy, but everything Amanda knew about him was merely hearsay. Now, she’d never say it, but Amanda definitely had her fair share of shitty fathers. 

Her mom was never around, so she grew up with a husk. Every night she came home from school to see a drunken man slumped over either the couch or table, and she would think him dead if it weren't for the wheezing. And when he was awake, he was no father. He would snap constantly, screaming at her for the littlest things and calling her a whore for wearing makeup or heeled boots. 

She tried to forget the worst of times, when he’d steal her pocket money for shitty beer or lock her in the cellar for days on end. 

God, she fucking hated that cellar. 

It was dark and damp, and the only bathroom was horrifying, broken, and claustrophobic on its own. 

So, in comparison the detective sounded rather amiable to Amanda, it was at least nice to hear that the asshat wanted to find his kid, and she said as such, “sounds like a pretty good father”

An expression that Amanda couldn’t place crossed Daniel’s face for a long moment as he stared at her, before finally wiping at his face, “Yeah. He is.”

A long pause. Daniel stops looking at her and moves his gaze down to his hands, as he fidgets with his sleeves. A loud banging can be heard from upstairs, along with the voices from the earlier crew bickering.

Amanda looks back up the stairs, “I think we should keep moving.” They’re about to find something, and if it was a trap, Amanda wanted to ensure all went right.

From the floor somewhere, Laura pipes up again, “We’ll get movin’ in a minute,” Amanda didn’t even know she was awake down there, “Just give me two seconds to–” And Laura erupted into a huge coughing fit, covering her mouth with her hand. 

She stopped, and upon seeing that her hand was streaked with blood, her eyes rolled back, and she promptly fainted at the sight. Daniel ran over to Laura, shaking her. She groaned and slumped forward, but hey, she was alive. 

Well, for now, at least.

Jonas burst into the room, out of breath. Amanda flinched, she didn’t see him coming. He panted, “We found something.”

Daniel hoisted Laura up to her feet, draping his arm around his shoulders for support, “What?”

“A door!” Jonas turned back, “Come on!”

Fucking finally.

They follow him back up the stairs, Amanda slowing her pace slightly just in case Daniel dropped Laura (Thankfully, he didn’t). 

The second they all got up, Daniel took off Laura's arm from around him, and helped her lean against a wall. She immediately slumped down, Daniel quickly crouching down beside her, massaging her hand.

Next to them, it appears Jonas had led them to Xavier and Addison. The former was pushing at a spot on the wall, and the latter was on her knees, trying to look through a crack.

Jonas gestures over to them, “There’s no lock, but we can’t get it open.”

Addison sits up, annoyed, “It’s stuck on something.”

Xavier shoved her aside. “Here, let me do it.” Very gentlemanly. 

Addison looked at him with a look of utter disgust, “Why don’t you–” She stopped abruptly, her gaze falling to the floor, there was a steady stream of blood dripping down to the floor, and Xavier quickly recognized it as his nosebleed. 

And holy fuck is it a lotta blood.

Even Xavier was taken aback, but not wanting to appear shaken to the group, he wiped it off facing away, before looking back to the door, “Stand back.” And he propped his foot up on the door and began slamming into it.

Wait wait wait- If the door was stuck on something, it likely meant there was a time limit, which is usually thrown around for traps, not normal ass rooms. While Amanda was stoked to see someone else finally stopping for their trap, she wanted them all done right, “Wait!” everyone turned to her, “Should we be opening it? If it’s stuck, it's a trap.”

Xavier scoffed, ignoring her, “Lady, this whole house is a fucking trap.”

And he keeps pushing, and pushing, until- SNAP!

The door flies open, and Xavier stumbles, a wire attached to the lock appears to be the cause. And everyone steps forward to peer into the room.

Aaaand welcome to another damp, windowless dungeon.

The rusted bed frame of an old canopy bed sits oddly at the center of it, a red satin sheet draped across the bottom. The faded remnants of someone’s childhood are splashed across the walls; once bright pictures hidden beneath at least an inch of grime.

The now-slack wire runs from the lock on the door, snakes around the room, and ends in a pin on the opposite side. Above the wire, is another door. A large, mechanical box is fixed to the center of it. A large digital timer is counting down from three minutes rapidly.

It appears Xavier has freed the wire by ripping the pin out of the device, starting the timer. 

Real smart move right there.

Xavier and Jonas scramble over to it, and Xavier tries the door across the room, to no avail.

Jonas is the first to speak, “Whatever we’re gonna do, we have three minutes to do it.”

They swivel around to search the room. An envelope is dangling from the bed frame. The name reads “Xavier”.’

Xavier crosses and rips the envelope open, letting a microcassette fall into his hand. Jonas hands him the recorder, and he slots the tape inside, depressing the play button.

Finally, Daniel, Addison, and Amanda enter, Daniel gently leaving Laura in the Hall, just in time to hear John’s haunting voice flood the room once again. Amanda finally recognizes it as the aids room, as she so affectionately called it. It made her skin crawl, because she already knew exactly what lie beneath the bed, and she wanted nothing to do with it.

Finally, the tape finished up, Xavier repeating the last line quietly to himself, “A needle in a haystack…” Nobody speaks, for a long second, so he does, “This is bullshit.”

He hurls the recorded against the wall, smashing it to pieces. Jonas scoffs, “That was genius.”

Xavier steps to him. Eye to eye. “I’ve passed my politeness point with you. Now I’m just plain upset.”

Amanda ignores their dumb staredown and follows the kid’s gaze instead, he’s staring intently at the bed frame for a moment, before pulling it to the side, and yanking up the corner of the red satin sheet beneath it, unveiling a pit dug into the floor, about five feet in circumference.

The pit is filled with dirty syringes– literally thousands of them. All of them are still encrusted with the filth of unsupervised use. It’s nothing less than a junkie graveyard. 

Everyone stares at it in complete shock. Even Daniel backs away from it, not wanting to get too close.

Addison is the first to speak, “Ouch-”

Jonas snatches the bat from Xavier’s grip, leaning over the pit. He shoves it downwards, and it disappears entirely. “This thing is deeper than it looks.”

Xavier’s beginning to sweat, not wanting to even touch that shit, “Somebody’s gotta get in there.”

Addison scoffs, “The tape said you.”

Xavier juts a trembling finger at Amanda, “And I say her.”

Hold on.

Amanda steps back, “What?”

But Xavier just doubles down, “She’s gonna do it.” Xavier charges over to her and forces her arms up– exposing her track marks for the room to see, “She’s a fucking junkie.”

Amanda panicked, thrashing in his grip, “You don’t know a thing about me!”

He grinned, “I know you’re gonna feel right at home in there.”

Amanda is screaming when he picks her up, begging, pleading . 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Where was John??

But her thoughts are cut off, as Xavier drops her into the pit.

The last thing she hears before her body hits the needles, is Daniel screaming “No!”  and her own shrieks getting cut off as the shock kicked in.

Amanda's initial shock froze her in place, her mind reeling from the pain. She lay there, motionless for a beat, staring at what felt like hundreds of needles embedded in her skin. Every breath hurt, every twitch of a muscle sent new waves of agony through her body. The whole world felt like it was shrinking, narrowing down to the sting of a thousand cuts.

For a moment, she couldn’t move—couldn’t even think. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She had been so careful. 

How had it come to this?

Xavier's voice boomed above her, “Move it, bitch! Find the key!”

The room around her was a blur of panicked voices. Daniel was shouting, Jonas was swearing, and Xavier stood there like a predator watching his prey struggle. Her heart pounded in her chest, the adrenaline slowly kicking in, fighting back the numbing shock.

But then reality hit. 

She had to move.

Amanda forced herself to breathe, focusing on the rising panic in her chest. She knew if she let it control her, she would die here. She wasn’t going to die in this pit. Not like this.

Gritting her teeth, she started to move, her hands trembling as they hovered over the sea of needles. It was slow at first, each motion deliberate, careful, as she forced herself to push past the pain. Her fingers shook, blood trickling from fresh punctures as she sifted through the filth, feeling nothing but glass and metal under her hands.

Her breathing grew shallow as she kept digging. 

Fuck– Where was it?? 

John wouldn’t leave her to die—he wouldn’t.

She let out a low, guttural moan, her voice cracking as she dug deeper, her mind scrambling to focus. Her fingertips brushed against more needles, every movement sending fresh stabs of pain through her hands, up her arms. She pulled one out, then another, and then another, but it was all just junk—nothing. No key. No way out.

Her breath caught in her throat. She was running out of time.

The pain was overwhelming, but the rising sense of terror was worse. Amanda’s heart raced, the pounding so loud in her ears she could barely hear the others anymore. Her movements became faster, more frantic, her mind racing to keep up with the adrenaline that now surged through her veins.

She started screaming, her voice tearing through the stillness of the room as her fingers shoved aside handfuls of needles. “Come on!” she yelled, her voice hoarse, raw with desperation. She could feel the needles slicing into her hands, feel them burying themselves deeper with every panicked motion, but she didn’t stop.

Where was it???

Suddenly, her hand struck something different—something cold and smooth, but with an unnatural glow. Amanda froze, her chest heaving as her fingers wrapped around a syringe, unlike the others. It glowed faintly, a faint, sickly green from a glow stick inside. Attached to the needle, a small key dangled from a thread.

Her breath caught in her throat as a wave of relief flooded through her body.

Amanda’s fingers wrapped around the glowing syringe, the key dangling from the needle. She barely had the strength to lift her hand, but she forced herself to throw it—slamming it onto the floor in front of the group. The syringe bounced off the concrete with a sharp clatter , the glow stick faintly illuminating the horror-struck faces of everyone in the room.

For a –very brief– moment, no one moved.

Amanda collapsed back into the pit, her body wracked with sobs. She could feel the needles digging deeper into her skin, the cold metal biting into her flesh as the adrenaline started to fade. Each tear that escaped her felt like it was dragging her further into the abyss. She had done it—she found the key. But now, her entire body felt like it was on fire, and they were just standing there, staring at her.

Xavier was the first to break the silence, snatching up the syringe like it was some prize. He didn’t even glance at Amanda, completely ignoring her agony. His hands trembled as he yanked the key free, holding it up to the door lock with an eager grin.

“Finally,” he muttered, his voice laced with frustration and greed. He jammed the key into the door and twisted, expecting immediate freedom—but the lock didn't budge.

“What the hell?” He growled, twisting the key harder. He tried again. Still nothing. He cursed under his breath, yanking the key out, staring at it as if the metal had betrayed him. The others watched in a mix of tension and disbelief.

Amanda’s sobs echoed faintly in the background as Xavier fumbled with the key, trying to force it back in. He slammed his fist against the door in frustration, turning to the others with a wild look in his eyes. “It’s not fucking working!”

Jonas, skeptical, moved closer, “Let me see that.”

Xavier yanked the key back from the lock and shoved Jonas aside. “No! This is my shot!” He snapped, desperate, as he jammed the key back in one more time—his breath ragged as he twisted with all his strength. “I want the fuckin’ needle, man!” His voice broke, “I want that fuckin’ needle!”

But it was too late.

Daniel, horrified at what had happened to Amanda, knelt down at the edge of the pit. “Come on, we need to get her out of there,” he muttered, leaning down and carefully grabbing Amanda’s arms. His touch was gentle, aware of the needles that still littered her body. He began pulling her out, slow and steady, trying to minimize the damage.

Amanda’s body trembled in his grip, the pain now unbearable, but she let him help her. Her sobs turned quieter, more ragged, as Daniel pulled her free. She collapsed into his arms, barely able to move. Her entire body felt like it was being torn apart, as he started gently pulling the protruding needles from her trembling body. With every needle pulled free, her breath hitched, and with every gasp, Daniel apologized profusely, just trying to comfort her.

Xavier, still fuming over the lock, turned toward them just as the door clicked . His face twisted in anger when he realized what had happened—the time had run out. The door was locked for good.

“No, no, no, no, no!” He slammed his fist against the wall, veins popping in his neck. “What the fuck did you do?!” He stormed toward Amanda, rage bubbling over as he shoved Daniel away, the kid landing on his ass next to her. “This is your fault!”

Amanda barely had the strength to lift her head, her eyes still wet with tears. “I–I found the key…” she whispered, her voice broken, her body shaking.

Xavier’s face contorted with fury as he grabbed Amanda by the arms, hauling her back up as if he was about to toss her back into the pit. “You didn’t find it fast enough, you fucking bitch!” he screamed, his voice filled with hatred. His grip was tight, too tight, as if he wanted to make her suffer all over again, and she squealed in agony.

Daniel, panicked, rushed forward and shoved Xavier back. “Get off her!” he yelled, standing between them. “It’s not her fault!”

Xavier’s eyes were wild, the veins in his neck pulsing as he squared up to Daniel. For a moment, it looked like he might kick his ass, his fists clenching at his sides. But then he seemed to catch himself, stepping back and glaring at Amanda with disgust.

“She’s dead fuckin’ weight,” Xavier spat, storming off toward the hallway, but Addison steps in his way, halting him.

Amanda collapsed back onto the floor, her body shaking as Daniel knelt beside her, offering what little comfort he could. The others stood frozen, unsure of what to do next.

Addison starts again, “Why don’t you save this alpha male shit for some other time, okay?” She huffs, “Did you hear that tape? He knows things about our past, about us. He knows our names. There’s something we’re not seeing.”

“Jail…” All eyes go to Laura as she limps into the room, “… You said three of us had been there.” A beat, “Make it four.”

Jonas shook his head, “Anyone else want to own up?”

Amanda raises her hand weakly. 

And the man turned to Daniel, “What about you kid? You got juvy written all over you.”

The kid shakes his head slightly, bashful, “No… I’ve never been.”

The hint of hope leaves Jonas’ eyes as quickly as it came, “Alright then… let’s talk through this again.”

“No! Enough talking!” Everyone looks back to Xavier, “The only thing that you people have in common is holding me back. I’m gone.” And with that, he snatches up the baseball bat and charges out of the room.

Addison throws Jonas a look, he puts his hands up, offended, “What? You saying this is my fault?” She doesn’t answer, he sighs, “I’ll go talk to him. You keep looking.” And with that, he adjusts his jacket and walks out in the direction Xavier went.

Addison sighs and watches him go, “We should get moving too.” She eyed her new crew, as if disappointed with who she got stuck with. “We need to find these, we’re running out of time.”

Daniel moved to his feet, grabbing both of Amanda's hand’s to try to help her up, but still, she swatted him away. She hated feeling weak. “Can you walk?”

Amanda shakily got to her feet, “I’m fine,” She looked at Laura, about to ask if she was gonna have to get left behind, but Addison was already on it, wrapping her arm around her waist for support. 

Once all footing was good and everyone was on their feet, Addison prompted, “So, where are we going?”

“We didn't look downstairs thoroughly enough yet,” Amanda prompted, mainly just because she knew damn well that's where Laura, Addison, and Gus’ traps were located. That last one— there's no nice way to put it— was a fucking nightmare. She felt embarrassed on John’s behalf for how it went down, and just mad on her own because of how much it hurt.

Daniel glanced over at Amanda, still visibly shaken from her ordeal. “We really should get downstairs and check everything,” he said softly, trying not to make it obvious how concerned he was for her. She barely acknowledged him, still brushing off any attempt to show weakness.

Addison tightened her grip on Laura, keeping her upright as they all started moving toward the stairwell. The group, already feeling the weight of the game, moved with a cautious urgency. The air felt heavier now, every second passing like a countdown they couldn’t ignore.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Addison spoke up again, “I know we’re pressed for time, but we’ve gotta stick together. That’s how we survive these things, right?”

Amanda kept her gaze low, trying to push through the haze of pain and adrenaline, while Laura's breath grew heavier with every step, her face paling. It didn’t go unnoticed by Addison. “You okay?” she asked, concern lacing her tone.

Laura didn’t respond immediately, her eyes flickering as she swayed slightly in Addison’s hold. The descent down the stairs felt slower than it should’ve, each creak of the steps only amplifying the tension. Daniel looked back frequently, checking on them, while Amanda stayed focused ahead, determined to ignore her own discomfort. Even as phantom needles still jabbed through her body, and with every other step, she could still feel where these two needles got into her heel.

Just as they hit the bottom step, Laura gasped, her body tensing violently. Addison’s grip tightened, but it was too late. Laura’s body jerked in convulsions for just a second before her eyes rolling back as she collapsed onto the floor in the middle of the hallway. 

“Laura!” Addison cried out, kneeling down beside her.

Amanda stopped dead in her tracks, the reality of the situation crashing down on her. Daniel moved quickly, dropping beside Laura, trying to hold her still, panic etched on his face. “What’s happening? Is she—?”

“She’s fine,” Amanda looked at Daniel, “She did this earlier, remember? She’s weak but alive.”

Amanda felt bad for the girl, she really did. She couldn’t tell if it was the fact that Laura had been there the longest or if her body was just weak for other reasons, but she had been in much worse condition than anyone else there. She bent down next to her, and started gently smacking her face, just to bring her back. “Hey. Hey.” her eyes fluttered, “I’m sorry, but we really gotta go.”

The last two times, Laura had s quick remark to being awoken, but this time she just let out an exhausted groan as she tried getting to her feet, it was Amanda’s turn to help her walk, wrapping her arm around Laura’s shoulders and trying to take some weight off her feet to make walking easier.

And with that, Addison took the lead, unintentionally leading them towards the traps Amanda had been trying to get them into the whole time, although it really didn’t look like Laura could survive walking right about now, let alone a whole test on her morality.

As they got into the hallway, Laura signals to Amanda that she needs a second, and she helps her slump against a wall. After a long second, she asked, to nobody in specific, “How do I look?”

Nobody could bear to answer her. 

Addison paced, frustrated, “My guess is that we’ve been here two hours. If what that tape said is true, the front door opens in an hour.”

Amanda bit her lip, “We’re not going to last that long.”

Addison looked at her hatefully, “You’re always so sure, aren’t you?”

Daniel piped in, “She knows what she’s talking about.”

“Oh yeah?”

Laura began mumbling again, “X marks the spot…”

Amanda turned to face her, she’s pointing up at something on the wall— a grimy, framed picture, skewed at an angle. 

Two cracks run through the center of it. 

Forming an X.

Laura repeated, “X marks the spot for the answer–”

Addison approached the picture, removing it from the wall with the caution of a bomb squad member. There is nothing behind it.

Daniel bites at his nails for a moment, thinking, “Open it up.”

She unlatches the frame at the back, opening it. A photograph falls out, fluttering to the floor. Addison scoops it up– and freezes.

Now, Amanda already knows damn right what the picture is, hell- she printed it out and put it there herself, but that doesn’t mean she's not gonna investigate with them. It was a picture of Daniel and Eric, arms around each other, happy. It looked like it was taken at a park by some stranger. Sure, Daniel’s smile looked forced as all hell, but Addison recognized Eric immediately, glaring up at Daniel, “What are you doing with him??” She flipped the photo over- printed on the back are the words FATHER AND SON . “That’s your father?”

Daniel looked confused, “What, you know him?”

She lowered the photo, doesn’t look happy. “Yeah. That's the cop who put me away.” 

Daniel backed up, scared, but she stormed up to him, grabbing him by the collar, “He fucking set me up.”

Amanda joined in, “Daniel… please tell me that’s not your father.” What? She had to blend in, and she was always one for the dramatics.

He stammered, scared she was gonna hurt him, but before she could, across the room, Laura vomits blood. Her whole body begins to tremor uncontrollably, as if she were suffering some sort of violent epileptic seizure. She screams, or well- tries to, as she gags on her own blood and struggles to breathe.

Fuck fuck fuck- she wasn’t supposed to die yet, she still needed to do her test.

Amanda dashes across the room, kneeling over her and tries to keep her head from hitting the ground, but all that did was just have Amanda putting her in a headlock as she thrashed.

Amanda looked to the others for help, but they hadn’t even flinched, Addison was still holding Daniel in place, glaring daggers at him as he trembled.

She called out Laura’s name, desperate for her to be okay. She needed to be. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen.

But then, as quickly as it began, Laura’s seizure suddenly ceases and her body relaxes, bloodied drool seeping from her mouth.

Amanda shakes her, but to no avail. 

She’s gone.

Across the room, Addison gives Daniel one harsh shove, before spitting at him, “That’s it. I can’t trust you. I can't trust any of you. Xavier had the right Idea. You two are on your own.”

And with that, she marched off down the hallway. Daniel watches her go, then turns to Amanda. She mutters to herself, reciting John’s tape, “Once you realize what you have in common…”

Daniel walks over to her, eyes big and pleading, “Amanda, I didn’t know-” 

She says nothing.

“Please, don’t leave me.”

Amanda stared at him, pretending to consider. This had actually been an ideal outcome. Sure, it’d be nice if people did their own fucking tests specifically designed for them, but whatever, at least she could keep a good eye on the kid from here.

Finally, she speaks, “I think we better get you out of here.”

She grabbed his wrist by the sleeve and the two moved quickly through the dim corridors, the tension between them palpable after all the shit that just went down. Daniel stayed close, his eyes wide and panicked as he clung to her, as though her silence was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. They had to get back to the safe room—to regroup, to plan, to figure out what the hell to do next.

As they rounded a corner, they suddenly saw Xavier up ahead. He was walking slowly, his movements erratic, his eyes darting around like a man on the edge of something dangerous.

Daniel's voice was shaky as he called out, “Xavier… where’s Jonas?”

Xavier didn’t answer. He barely even looked at them, his focus entirely elsewhere, as if he were searching for someone, or something. His hands gripped into fists menacingly at his side. Amanda shot a glance at Daniel, the bad feeling creeping up her spine like ice. She could feel it—something was off.

“Xavier?” Daniel pressed again, his voice filled with worry.

But Xavier kept walking, his steps slow and deliberate, like he was already lost in his own dark thoughts. He brushed past them without a word, his eyes flicking in Amanda’s direction for a brief second before he disappeared into the next hallway. 

Amanda and Daniel stood frozen, both of them uneasy, but neither saying anything. They shared a glance, and Amanda knew Daniel felt it too. 

Something terrible had happened. 

They hurried on, reaching the safe room in a matter of moments, their footsteps quickening as if the answer to all their fears lay just behind the door. Amanda pushed it open, but what they found inside made her stomach lurch.

Jonas was lying there, his body crumpled on the ground, unmoving. His skull was bashed in, the jagged nails of the bat still rested in the blood-smeared imprint on his shattered head. The room smelled of rust and violence.

Amanda’s breath caught in her throat as she dashed across the room, kneeling over him. “Jonas,” she whispered, her hands shaking as she touched his shoulder, knowing full well it was too late. His body was cold, his face frozen in a grimace of pain.

Daniel stood back, his eyes wide with horror, his hand covering his mouth as he choked back a sob. “No… no, no,” he muttered, backing away from the body as the reality sank in.

Amanda’s mind raced. Jonas was dead. Killed. The pieces started to fall into place, and the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Xavier had done this. 

She stood up, her hands trembling as she wiped the blood from her palms onto her jeans. “We need to move,” she muttered under her breath. She couldn’t let Daniel see her panic—he was barely holding it together as it was. But inside, she was screaming.

This shit wasn’t safe– no shit– but, Xavier was unstable. She needed to keep him far the fuck away from Daniel if she wanted to protect him.

Daniel knelt beside Jonas, his voice breaking. “He didn’t deserve this…”

Before Amanda could respond, the door creaked open behind them. Both of them spun around, half-expecting to see Xavier looming in the doorway, but the corridor beyond was empty, the house itself seeming to hold its breath.

Amanda stepped forward, gripping Daniel’s arm and pulling him to his feet. “We need to get you out of here,” she repeated, her voice hardening. This wasn’t part of the plan anymore. Survival came first. But in the pit of her stomach, the cold fear lingered. Xavier was still out there, and now he was a killer. 

She and Daniel needed to survive this

Amanda grabbed his hand and began to run. She needed to go get a weapon, she needed to be able to protect them.

But then her eyes landed on Xavier at the top of the stairs, walking toward them, like a villain in a horror movie.

They freeze. A long, uncomfortable standoff ensues. 

The pair begin inching backwards.

But Xavier's bravely voice starts up, “Do. Not. Run.”

Yeah, no, fuck that. 

Amanda grabs the kid and books it back to the safe room.

He follows them through all the twists of the hallway, limping, “I’m gonna show you what a real murder victim looks like.”

A bit cliché, but it does the trick, as she can feel Daniel shaking in her grasp. They reach the room and Amanda immediately cringes as her bare feet squish into the still warm stream of blood from what used to be Jonas’ head. Daniel peeks out the door and furrows his brows, confused, “He’s gone.”

She pants, “What?”

“He turned the corner and went back down the stairs.”

“I don’t trust it.” She looked at him, “You stay the fuck away from him.”

He puts his hands up in surrender, but before he can say anything else, they both hear a distant screaming. Painful. Guttural. 

Bloodcurdling .

They recognize it as Addison instantly.

But just as Daniel opens his mouth to suggest helping her, Amanda cuts him off instantly, “No. ”Amanda grabbed Daniel's arm with a fierce grip, her eyes wild and determined. “We can’t save her,” she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper, but sharp enough to cut through the air. “You don’t understand. We need to survive. That’s it.”

Daniel’s face twisted with confusion and desperation. “But we can’t just leave her!”

Amanda’s breath was shallow, her heart thudding in her chest. The sound of Addison’s screams echoed through the hall, reverberating off the walls. Each scream pierced her more than she would ever admit. “We *have* to. If we go out there, we’re dead too.”

Daniel’s wide eyes darted back toward the hallway, torn between the instinct to help and the growing realization of what Amanda was saying. He looked to her for guidance, but the resoluteness in her eyes made it clear—there was no room for heroism here. It was survival, plain and simple.

“I can’t...,” Daniel muttered, his voice cracking. “I can’t just stand here and—”

“You don’t have a choice!” Amanda snapped, cutting him off. “Do you want to end up like Jonas? Like Addison? We don’t know what he’s doing, but we can’t take that risk.”

The screaming intensified, and for a brief second, Daniel's entire body tensed as though he might make a run for it. But Amanda tugged him back, her eyes blazing with something between fear and fury. “You want to help her? You want to get yourself killed? Think about it, Daniel. Fuck!”

The boy hesitated, his hands shaking, his whole body trembling with indecision. The guilt was written all over his face. But Amanda wasn’t about to let him falter.

“We stay put,” she said firmly. “Xavier’s out there, and Addison’s… gone.” She couldn’t let herself feel the weight of her own words. They were losing people faster than she could keep track. 

Daniel’s breath hitched, and finally, with a small, defeated nod, he gave in. He turned away from the door, stepping back from the screams and the horror that lay beyond. The guilt would eat at him—she knew that. But right now, they had to be smart.

Amanda glanced toward the door, half-expecting Xavier to appear again. But the hallway was still. Too still. And that, more than anything, made her stomach churn.

After a second, they could hear Xavier storming back up the steps, and Amanda cursed, rushing to the door to push it shut, just as Xavier approached it.

She immediately pressed her back against it, holding it shut with all her strength as the door shook under Xavier’s relentless pounding from the other side. Her breath came in sharp gasps, the terror surging through her veins, but she kept her weight firmly planted against the door.

Daniel glanced around the room in panic, searching for anything—anything—that could help them. But they were trapped.

“Hold it!” Amanda grunted, her arms trembling as she pushed back against the door.

Daniel, wide-eyed and frantic, looked back to the massive safe against the far wall. His eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. “The safe—underneath it!” he shouted.

Amanda’s brow furrowed in confusion as she strained to keep the door shut. “What about it?”

“I saw something earlier,” Daniel said, rushing over. “There’s a trapdoor. Maybe it leads somewhere. Maybe it’s an escape.”

“Daniel, this door isn’t gonna hold much longer!”

Ignoring her, Daniel knelt down, his fingers tracing the edges of the safe as he pulled with all his strength. The big metal box didn’t budge at first, but then, beneath it, a faint outline of a trapdoor was revealed.

“It’s locked!” Daniel said, frustration dripping from his voice as he yanked at the handle. “It’s got a lock on it!”

Amanda gritted her teeth, glancing over her shoulder at the door that was beginning to splinter under Xavier’s weight. “What do we do?”

Daniel’s eyes darted around wildly until they landed on something. “Jonas!” he shouted. “Jonas had the key from before. It might work!”

Without hesitation, he sprinted toward Jonas’ lifeless body, still crumpled in the corner where Xavier had left him. The nail-studded bat was still lying next to his head, crusted with blood. Daniel’s hands shook as he searched Jonas' pockets, trying to ignore the horrible sight of his shattered skull.

Finally, his fingers brushed against cold metal. “Got it!” Daniel cried, holding up a small key. He rushed back to the trapdoor and jammed the key into the lock. There was a tense pause as he twisted it, but then, with a satisfying click, the lock released.

Amanda let out a breath of relief, but there was no time to relax. “Daniel, grab the bat!” she ordered, pointing to Jonas’ body. “We’ll use it to wedge the door shut.”

Daniel ran back, hesitating only for a split second before grabbing the bat from beside Jonas’ head. His stomach churned as he felt its weight in his hand, sticky with blood. He raced back to Amanda, and together they shoved the bat into the door frame, jamming it tightly to buy themselves a few more precious seconds.

“Help me move this thing!” Amanda barked, nodding toward the safe.

Together, they heaved and pushed against the massive safe, their muscles burning as it slowly began to shift. It screeched loudly against the floor, inch by inch, revealing more of the trapdoor beneath.

But the pounding at the door grew louder. Xavier’s voice was a growl of fury. “Open this door!” he snarled. The wood creaked dangerously, and they could hear him throwing his full weight against it now.

Finally, with a final shove, Amanda and Daniel moved the safe enough to expose the trapdoor fully. Without wasting a moment, Amanda yanked it open.

“We have to go—now!” she urged, shoving Daniel toward the opening.

But just as they were about to descend, the door behind them gave way. Xavier burst into the room, eyes wild with rage, towering over them with a murderous glare. He charged forward, but Amanda and Daniel leapt into the trapdoor, just as Xavier’s hand grazed the edge.

They landed hard in the dark below, the door slamming shut above them. Safe—for now.  Amanda scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. “Daniel, we need to move. Now.”

And they did. For a solid minute, everything was okay, but there was a new problem.

Daniel, though still able to run, had started showing symptoms of the gas affecting him. His breath came in labored gasps, and blood trickled from his nose and mouth, mixing with his sweat. His eyes darted around in a mix of panic and confusion.

Dammit, this was her fault. 

She gave him the antidote too soon.

“Daniel, come on!” Amanda urged, reaching out to help him up.

He staggered to his feet, his movements unsteady but determined. “I’m okay,” he said, though his voice was shaky and his attempts to steady himself were interrupted by bursts of coughing that left him gasping for air.

Amanda could feel his weight leaning against her, but he was still able to move. She kept one arm around his waist, her other hand gripping his shoulder to steady him. Despite the distress he was in, he managed to keep pace, albeit unsteadily.

“Just stay with me,” Amanda said, trying to keep her own fear at bay. She led him through the narrow tunnel, her senses alert to every sound and shadow.

As they moved, the light from the trapdoor grew dimmer, and Amanda felt a surge of dread. They had to get to the bathroom, and they had to do it fast. The echoing footsteps of Xavier’s pursuit were getting closer.

“Almost there,” Amanda urged, her voice tight with tension. They rounded a corner, and she saw the faint glow of light from the open bathroom door.

Daniel’s breathing grew increasingly erratic, and Amanda could see the strain in his face. Blood continued to trickle from his nose, and his mouth was stained with red. She pushed him forward, her urgency mounting as Xavier’s footsteps grew louder.

Finally, they reached the doorway to the bathroom. Amanda shoved Daniel through it and followed closely behind, slamming the door shut just in time.

And she was met with an all too familiar room.

The bathroom was a scene of horrifying decay. The flickering lightbulb overhead cast an eerie glow over the grimy tiles and the two corpses (Zep and Tapp) lying on the floor. The smell was overpowering, a sickening mixture of blood, decay, and rot.

Amanda’s stomach churned as she took in the sight. She felt Daniel’s weight pressing heavily against her, his breaths ragged and shallow. She had to focus. There was no time to dwell on the gruesome scene.

She looked around for anything that might help them. The bathroom was small, but there was a rusty pipe protruding from the wall and a couple of grimy toilet paper rolls. She grabbed the toilet paper and used it to help stabilize Daniel, trying to clean the blood from his face as best as she could.

It was odd. It felt weirdly maternal despite the context.

“We need to figure out what to do next,” Amanda said, her voice tight with urgency. “Xavier will be here soon.”

Daniel nodded weakly, his face pale and his eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. “What do we do?” He swallowed thickly, “There’s nowhere to hide– nowhere to go!”

Amanda glanced around the room, taking in their grim surroundings. “We need to find another way out,” she said, her voice was shaky, “There has to be something we can use.” Truth be told, she was fucking terrified. She just cornered herself and the one thing she was entrusted to protect

As they searched the bathroom, Amanda's mind raced with thoughts of escape. They couldn’t stay here—Xavier would find them soon. She had to keep Daniel safe and find a way out before it was too late.

The kid grabbed something from the floor, before he nudged her over to one of the walls, in between pipes, and whispering, “I have a plan, just go with it.”

 And then he slumped against the wall, pulling her to the floor with him so he could lean on her shoulder. For a second, she panicked, checking his pulse as tears sprung to her face. But she was just more bewildered when she felt a steady thump at her fingertips. 

He was okay. This was his plan.

She heard the door slam open and quickly realized that if him playing dead was the plan, she needed to sell it. So she sobbed.

Amanda’s heart pounded as Xavier burst into the bathroom, his eyes wild and desperate. He glanced at Daniel’s motionless form and then back at Amanda, his frustration palpable.

“What’s the number?” Xavier demanded, his voice harsh.

Amanda swallowed hard, her mind racing. “He’s gone,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Xavier’s expression darkened. “It doesn’t matter. I just need the number on the back of his neck.” He moved closer, his gaze fixed on Daniel’s body.

Shit .

Panic surged through Amanda as she realized her mistake. She hadn’t written down the numbers on either Daniel or herself. She had no way to provide him with the number he wanted. “How are you going to get your own number?” she blurted out. “I’m not gonna tell you it.”

Without a word, Xavier stumbled over to the mirrors, and tried wiping at the grime to no avail. He reached for the blade from the furnace room and began to cut into the skin on the back of his neck with little to no hesitation. 

Goddamn, this guy is fucking terrifying.

Xavier’s eyes were filled with a mix of pain and determination as he sliced away, his breathing ragged. Finally, he finished, blood dripping from his neck as he turned to face Amanda, the skin peeled back to reveal his number.

He lunged toward her and Daniel with a guttural roar, his intentions clear. Amanda’s eyes widened in terror, but before she could react, Daniel, who had been lying motionless, sprang up with the hacksaw he had grabbed earlier. With a swift, practiced motion, he slashed it across Xavier’s throat.

Xavier’s eyes widened in shock as blood sprayed from the gash, his hands clutching at his neck in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. He stumbled backward, collapsing to the floor in a final, gurgling gasp.

Daniel collapsed into Amanda at the sight of Xavier’s body, his face contorted in a mix of horror and grief. He sobbed uncontrollably into her shoulder, the weight of what he had just done crashing down on him. “I… I didn’t want to,” he choked out between sobs. “I didn’t want to do that.”

“Shhh,” Amanda held him tightly, her own emotions a tangled mess of relief and sadness. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s okay. We need to keep moving.”

Despite the horror of the moment, they both knew that they couldn’t afford to stay here. With a final, shaky breath, Amanda helped Daniel to his feet, their focus shifting back to finding an escape from the nightmarish labyrinth they were trapped in.

Amanda’s mind raced as she stared at the lifeless bodies scattered across the grimy bathroom floor. The weight of what she had just done settled heavily on her shoulders, but a grim sense of determination kept her moving. Everyone else was dead. It was just her and Daniel now. 

Her thoughts turned quickly to survival. They had to get back to the safe room. Amanda grabbed Daniel, who was still dazed and confused, and helped him to his feet. He leaned on her as they navigated the maze-like corridors, the urgency of their situation propelling them forward.

They finally reached the safe room, and Amanda’s heart pounded with a mix of relief and anxiety. She quickly made her way to the large, heavy safe in the corner. She fumbled with the piece of paper she had hidden down her slacks, the combination scrawled in a hurried scribble. Her hands punched it in with a practiced ease, to Daniel’s confusion.

The safe creaked open, revealing the antidote inside. Amanda’s mind raced with the details she had pieced together throughout their ordeal. The antidote was crucial—Daniel needed it, and she needed to get them both out of there.

She retrieved the vial and turned back to Daniel, who was still looking at her with a mix of confusion and exhaustion. “What’s going on?” he asked weakly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “How did you know all this?”

Amanda didn’t have time to explain everything. Instead, she quickly injected the antidote into Daniel’s arm. He flinched at the sudden sting, his eyes widening as he processed what was happening. 

“The antidote doubles as a sedative,” Amanda explained, her voice calm but firm. “You’re going to be out for a while. I’m gonna need you to stay still and rest. We’ve made it. We’re getting out of here.”

Daniel’s eyes fluttered as the effects of the sedative began to take hold. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the exhaustion and drug quickly overtook him. “But… why?” he mumbled, barely coherent.

Amanda’s gaze softened as she watched him drift into unconsciousness. “I’ll explain everything when you wake up,” she promised, though she knew the truth was more complex than she could easily articulate. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the final steps of their escape.

With Daniel safely unconscious, Amanda set about ensuring their escape was secure. She checked the room for any last-minute threats and prepared to leave, knowing that every second counted. The ordeal had taken its toll, but she had done what she needed to survive—and now, she was determined to get both herself and Daniel out of the nightmare they had endured.

The walk from the room to the car was less than pleasant, to say the least. The whole house smelt like death and dust, and the kid wasn’t particularly heavy or tall, actually, she was pretty sure they might be the same height and weight, but carrying around 130 pounds of wiped-out teen downstairs and through multiple hallways still wasn’t exactly ideal.

The drive back was almost relaxing after all the hell she’d just endured. The lair was about an hour away from the nerve gas house, and to be totally honest, the main thing Amanda was excited about was passing out in her bed and sleeping until next week. 

She glanced at the kid, still unconscious beside her, and at the first stop sign, she reached over and gingerly fastened his seatbelt. Just because she didn’t wear one (to John’s immense dismay), didn’t mean he had to be in any more danger tonight.

As Amanda drove through the dark, quiet streets, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The weight of the past few hours pressed down on her, but for now, the silence was a relief. The kid was out cold, the sedative doing its job, and for the first time since the whole ordeal began, Amanda felt like she had control again. 

The lair came into view, its isolated location perfect for what John had planned. She parked the car and took a moment to collect herself before climbing out and opening the passenger door. Carefully, she hoisted Daniel up and over her shoulder, wincing slightly as she adjusted his weight. 

She entered the building, navigating the dimly lit corridors until she reached John’s workshop. The door creaked open, and John was waiting for her, his eyes calm but calculating as always.

“Amanda,” he greeted her, his voice as steady as ever, “you did well.”

She nodded, feeling a strange mixture of pride and exhaustion. “Everyone’s dead. Except him.”

John’s eyes shifted to Daniel’s limp form. “Good. Now, we need to ensure he remains stable until the next phase.”

He motioned for her to lay Daniel on a nearby table, and Amanda complied, lowering the kid onto the cold surface with care. 

John watched for a moment before speaking again. “Call Dr. Gordon,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. “We’ll need to put Daniel into a medically induced coma for the next two weeks. It will buy us the time we need for Eric Matthews to realize his son is missing.”

Amanda paused, her brow furrowing slightly. Amanda paused, her hand still resting on Daniel’s shoulder as John gave his instructions. Her jaw tightened slightly, and she shifted on her feet. “You want to put him in a coma?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual but laced with a note of resistance.

John raised an eyebrow at her tone. “Yes. It’s the safest option. We need time, Amanda. This is the only way.”

Amanda’s gaze flickered back to Daniel, unconscious but breathing steadily. She didn’t know why, but something about the idea of putting him under for two weeks didn’t sit right with her. She’d spent the last few hours doing everything she could to keep him alive, to keep him safe. And now, he’d just… be out cold, completely vulnerable, for weeks?

“What if he wakes up?” she pushed, trying to sound pragmatic rather than concerned. “What if something happens to him while he’s under? I mean, two weeks is a long time. What if Eric doesn’t even care? What’s the point?”

John’s expression didn’t change. “Eric is a man ruled by his own flaws. He’ll be too distracted by his other pursuits to immediately notice. By the time he does, we’ll be ready.”

She nodded, trusting John’s plan, even if it felt a little risky. She pulled out her phone and quickly dialed Gordon’s number. After a brief conversation, confirming that the doctor would be there shortly, she hung up and turned back to John.

“Everything’s set,” she said, her voice quieter now. The adrenaline was wearing off, and all she wanted was to collapse.

John gave her an approving nod. “You’ve done well, Amanda. You’ve proven your worth once again. Now, rest.”

As if on cue, her body sagged with exhaustion. But before she left to finally sleep, her eyes lingered on Daniel. He looked peaceful, so vulnerable. The change in her demeanor must have been jarring for him, but in the end, it didn’t matter. She’d done what needed to be done.

She turned to John one last time, “You sure he’ll be out for the whole two weeks?”

John nodded. “Dr. Gordon will ensure that. You don’t need to worry.”

Satisfied, Amanda turned and left the room, her mind finally starting to slow down. She had survived. Daniel had survived. Now, they just had to wait for the pieces of the next puzzle to fall into place.

And with that, she collapsed on the bed she claimed for herself, exhausted beyond compare. She’d wake up in the morning, be in a good headspace, ask Lawrence to make sure she didn’t have AIDS after that needle pit bullshit, and then everything could go back to normal.

The next two weeks passed in a haze of quiet routine and unsettling calm for Amanda. After Daniel was sedated and safely in Dr. Gordon’s care, she helped set him up in a sterile, hidden hospital room far from the prying eyes of anyone who might question it. She watched Gordon with practiced hands, inserting feeding tubes and IVs, checking vitals, and adjusting machines. Amanda had been through enough in her life to have grown desensitized to most things, but watching Daniel lie there, so vulnerable and silent, still tugged at something deep within her.

She’d helped Gordon when necessary, but for the most part, her days were quieter than they had been in a long time. There was no game looming over her, no immediate danger to plan for. It gave her time to reflect, which she wasn’t sure she liked.

She tried to live like a normal person for a bit, whatever that meant now. She slept in, ate decent meals, and went for walks. John gave her space, letting her have this reprieve, though she knew it wouldn’t last forever. The inevitability of the next phase of his plans hovered like a dark cloud on the horizon, but for now, she had this strange, brief moment of peace.

One afternoon, she found herself back at John’s workshop, where she sometimes helped out with minor tasks—cleaning, organizing, and whatever needed to be done. She was stacking some old photos when Adam strolled in, camera in hand, looking bored and disinterested as usual.

“Hey rockstar,” he muttered, barely glancing up from his camera’s viewfinder as he checked the settings.

“Hey,” Amanda responded, half-smiling. She never quite knew what to make of Adam. He was sarcastic, aloof, and always seemed on the verge of quitting, yet here he was, still around, like a permanent fixture of John’s strange world.

As Amanda stacked the last of the photos, Adam leaned back against the wall and fished a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it with a flick of his lighter and took a drag, watching her with that usual mix of indifference and curiosity.

“You smoke?” he asked, exhaling a thin trail of smoke toward the ceiling.

“Not often,” Amanda replied, wiping her hands on her jeans before glancing at the pack in his hand.

Adam shrugged, pulling another cigarette out and offering it to her. “Well, today’s as good a day as any.”

Amanda hesitated for a moment before taking it. Adam flicked the lighter again, and the cigarette sparked to life. She inhaled deeply, feeling the familiar burn in her throat. It was grounding in a strange way, like a moment of shared silence in the chaos they were both wrapped up in.

They stood there, smoking in comfortable quiet for a minute, the only sound the occasional crackle of the cigarette and the distant hum of machinery from John’s workshop.

“You look different, you know,” Adam said after a beat, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth. “Like… I don’t know. Less haunted .”

Amanda raised an eyebrow, taking another drag and leaning back against the workbench. “Less haunted? That’s a new one.”

“Yeah, well,” Adam muttered, his eyes flicking toward the door and then back to her. “It’s like you’ve… chilled out a bit. Or maybe I’ve just been around too long. Either way, you seem… I don’t know. Like a person again.”

Amanda snorted softly, exhaling smoke with a bitter smile. “Guess I’ve had time to breathe.”

Adam tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “You’re not gonna start going soft on me, are you?”

Amanda glanced sideways at him, her lips quirking into a half-smile. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He shrugged, flicking ash onto the floor. “Hey, a little softness isn’t a bad thing. Especially after… well, everything.” He mumbled, “I didn’t even know if you could be soft anymore.”

Amanda didn’t respond right away, letting the silence stretch between them. She wasn’t sure if softness was even in her anymore, but Adam wasn’t wrong. Something had shifted. Maybe it was the kid. Maybe it was the quiet, this bizarre break in the storm that let her feel like a person again, if only for a little while.

“How’s the kid?” Adam asked after another puff, breaking the silence again. His tone was casual, but there was a flicker of genuine curiosity there.

“He’s stable,” Amanda replied, exhaling a long stream of smoke. “Gordon’s keeping an eye on him. But it’s… weird, seeing him like that.”

Adam nodded, leaning his head back against the wall. “Yeah, I bet. But he’ll be alright, right? That’s the plan.”

Amanda nodded, her gaze distant. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

There was a beat of quiet again, the two of them lost in their own thoughts. Then Adam, as usual, couldn’t resist getting in one more dig.

“You know, for someone who’s always in control, you sure seem attached to the kid,” he remarked, his tone half-teasing, half-serious.

Amanda stiffened slightly but covered it with a shrug. “It’s not that.”

“Right,” Adam muttered, smirking as he took another drag. “Keep telling yourself that.”

She shot him a look, but he just grinned, unbothered. The smoke curled lazily between them, the moment oddly peaceful despite the weight hanging in the air.

Adam pushed off the wall, stubbing out his cigarette on a nearby table. “Anyway, if you ever decide to quit the whole apprentice gig, I could use some help with these photos. Pretty sure John doesn’t pay me enough to keep pretending I care.”

Amanda rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He waved lazily as he walked out, leaving her standing there, cigarette smoldering between her fingers as the room fell back into quiet. She took one last drag, flicking the butt into an ashtray, and leaned against the bench, her thoughts once again drifting to Daniel, unconscious and waiting.

For now, she’d let him sleep. But soon enough, the world would come crashing back, and they’d have to face whatever came next.

But as we all know, all good things must come to an end.

When Eric showed up at the end of the second game, things went sideways fast. Amanda had felt her stomach drop upon hearing that Eric started beating John up, her pulse racing as she rushed over in panic. She could handle blood, death, and pain—but seeing her mentor on the brink of being beaten to death sent her spiraling. She had frantically called Gordon, hands trembling as she begged him to come to patch John up. The man had arrived just in time, wrapping John’s ribs and stitching up the worst of the damage, while Amanda paced like a caged animal, trying to keep it together.

After that, the rest of the month seemed like a weird echo of life before. Amanda found herself falling back into routine—helping John, running errands, setting up traps. She punched a news reporter who wouldn't stop hounding her for answers, which felt cathartic, but the satisfaction was short-lived. She soon found out the police had caught wind of her involvement thanks to Daniel waking up and asking about her by name. So now, she had to wear disguises when she went out. Nothing too extreme, but enough to keep a low profile. But even that didn’t ease her growing paranoia.

Lately, Amanda had felt like someone was following her. It started with little things—a figure in the distance, and footsteps that seemed too close for comfort. At first, she brushed it off, chalking it up to nerves. But then it got worse. The feeling of being watched never left her, and it was starting to make her restless, and jumpy.

One night, as she made her way home through a narrow alley, she felt it again—that presence, the shadow lurking just a few steps behind her. Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline surging. She whirled around, ready for a fight, and when she saw the figure moving closer, she didn’t hesitate. She crouched over her stalker, one knee pressed into the pavement beside them, the other foot firmly planted on their chest. Her hand reached instinctively for the syringe she always kept on her, ready to plunge it into whoever had been tailing her. Her flashlight flicked on as she brought it closer to the person's face—and then she froze.

It was Daniel.

The breath caught in her throat, her mind racing to process what she was seeing. The kid she'd fought so hard to protect, the one she'd locked away for safety, was lying beneath her, staring up in shock.

“What,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she stared down at him, the syringe still poised in her hand. “Are you doing here.”

It was a statement, not a question.

He looked just as surprised, his face pale in the dim light, and for a long moment, neither of them moved.

And finally, he found his voice, “Looking for you.”

And with that, Amanda panicked and struck him with the syringe, forcing him back into unconsciousness until she could figure out what the fuck to do now.