Clara
I first learned the cruelty of waiting when I was five-years-old.
I lay in bed all day, burning with fever. The world swimming in waves of sweat and shivers. I clung to the promise that he would come—my father, who had said he'd check on me. Every minute stretched into hours as I stared at the door, listening for footsteps that never arrived. It was the longest day of my life, and by the next morning I understood something sharp enough to scar: it is when you wait the hardest, when you hope the longest, that no one comes. And that kind of waiting leaves behind the deepest disappointment, a hurt that lingers long after the fever fades.
Now, I find myself waiting again. The car jolts over a bump, rattling my bones. I know the is tire punctured. I can feel it as the vehicle moves, yet the men here are too busy with their chattering to notice it. The trail I left behind feels like the flimsiest lifeline in the world. I told myself sirens would follow, and blue lights would bloom like salvation in the dark.
But the road drones on, endless. And that same childhood truth curls cold inside my chest: no one is coming.
"I thought you'd run away." Ava whispers beside me, chin resting on her knees. It's been a while since she'd said anything. Her small eyes now seem lifeless as she stares at the floor. Like she's accepted her fate.
"Why didn't you run away?" She asks again with a crack in her voice. "You don't even know anything about me. Why do you care if they kill me?"
I roll my eyes and lean back. Why are the people around me so thankless?
The shard in my sleeve moves as I shift, but I haven't pulled it out yet. Not while Brian is half awake.
"Maybe so I can sleep well at night?" I say, glad to finally have my voice back. Despite the fact that I already can't rest well at all. Simply fantastic. "I just... can't just let them kill an innocent person. That's it."
Her eyes squint in confusion as she looks at me. "Aren't you innocent?"
I can't help the smirk that tugs at my lips, recalling the fight at the black market dealer's basement and at the Savage Sector. While I didn't kill anyone, the blood I spilled didn't once weigh on my conscience. Heck, my hands itch to do it again. "I like to think I am." I answer, noticing that Brian has finally fallen asleep.
Ava stares down at her blue Nike sneakers. "Well, I'm not. If I were you, I'd have run away and left you."
Brat, you really want to make it hard for me, don't you?
"Where would you have gone?" I ask, slowly slipping the shard out of my sleeve and into my palm. Right. Just like back at the basement.
"...home," she replies, and from the tremble in her voice, she's starting to cry again. "To my mom."
I sigh as I slice the rope. My hair is doing a good job of shielding any movements.
"Then promise me." I whisper as the last fiber begins to give in. "If we get out of this, you'll apologize to her and never do something like this again. Do you have any idea how worried she might be right now?"
I try to relate. Try to imagine my mom panicking when the driver tells her he can't find me. I don't know how much time has passed, but perhaps being gone for hours might reveal a protective and motherly side of her.
"I will." Ava nods with a sniff.
"Then no screaming." I whisper before I suck in a breath and turn my head towards the front seats. "I think there's something wrong with the left wheel of the car!" I yell out.
The men stop talking and go still for a second. Making sure my announcement is correct.
"She's right." I hear a soft voice from up front. Probably the driver. His words are followed by a string of agreements from the others, and finally, one of the men tells him to stop beside the "red warehouse". I honestly have no idea where we are right now. But I hope it's somewhere with people. Because if there aren't any...then it's all up to me.
"How the hell did you not notice it before?" The snake-eyed man complains.
"If you all could shut up for one second, I probably would have. It's hard enough to focus on the road." The driver replies.
As soon as the car is stopped, I hear three men step out to inspect the damage. The men continue to talk nonsense while Brian begins to stir, disturbed by the sudden stillness.
It's time.
I move quickly and leap towards Brian. One hand over his mouth and the other wastes no time in slicing his throat. Blood pours onto my hand as his body begins to jerk.
A fissure opens inside me. His eyes, wide with disbelief, seem to plead for a reprieve that will never come. And in that instant, I feel it: the label searing itself into my bones. Murderer. There is no erasing it. No amount of money, no whispered promises, and no hidden connections can cleanse this truth. Anger, fear, disbelief—they swirl together. I watch the last gasps shuddering through his chest, and I feel the gravity of what I have done pressing against my lungs. There is terror, yes—but there is also… a crystalline clarity, a sharp lucidity that cuts through fear like sunlight through storm clouds. The world narrows to this: movement, intention, and execution.
I snatch up his pistol that I had been eyeing this whole journey before he can grab it.
Ava has her hands clamped around her mouth, staring at me with wide, terrified eyes that continue to spill tears. I toss the shard towards her hands so she can free herself.
Brian's movement catches Baseball Cap's attention as he turns towards us. The grin on his face falters into a gape as he witnesses everything.
"What the..." He begins to speak but doesn't get to finish as I press the trigger and the bullet tears through his skull.
I finally stand up, ignoring the tingling in my legs, and begin my massacre.
The three men don't have time to pull out their weapons or artifact, as I don't hesitate to pump them full of bullets.
In a forest, there are a lot of things to account for. The angle, the trajectory, and the distance. But right now, with the targets this close, there isn't any need for such calculations.
I spot the men outside as they finally look up to see what's going on through the tainted windows. I shoot two of the men through the window, while, unfortunately, the snake-eyed freak manages to hide behind the car.
He didn't use his ability on me. Could it not work if there's something like tinted glass between us? I have no time to contemplate that.
"Get up! Go out the door to that warehouse!" I yell as I start climbing up the front seat, grab two exta guns, and open the door.
I feel my stomach drop as I look around at the place that feels too exposed. A stretch of cracked asphalt that yawns in every direction, painted with oil stains and tire tracks. All around us stand hulking warehouses, their metal shutters rolled down tight, doors padlocked, and windows blackened with dust. The wide lot between them is empty and littered with scraps of paper that stir only when the wind remembers to breathe. I hear the flapping of wings and spot the same three crows circling me in the sky. Like vultures waiting for the dead.
There is no cover. Nowhere to vanish. Just concrete, silence, and the echo of our own footsteps waiting to betray us. The other cars that had stopped afar now seem alert as their inhabitants begin to step out.
"Run!" I yell and grab Ava's hand as soon as she gets out too. We sprint toward the nearest shuttered warehouse. Gunfire cracks behind us, ricocheting off the steel walls and dirt ground. I shove Ava close, pressing her in front of me, making myself a shield.
Glancing over my shoulder, my eye catches onto a man wearing a bright neon orange vest. Far too bright for discretion. Practically begging to be a target.
I aim my gun at him. Distance is thirty meters. Angle is twenty-three degrees from my current position, factoring in the slight slope of the lot.
I fire the shot, and he collapses before he can react. But I pay the price for slowing down when a bullet grazes my thigh.
I suck in a breath through gritted teeth as an electrifying pain shoots up my leg. But I force myself to continue moving as Ava panics beside me.
I need to hide her somewhere and then start attacking everyone.
Suddenly, I notice something slide past us. Slick and liquid, a silvery distortion that melts across the concrete. It moves faster than it should, bending around our bodies, circling us like a predator sizing up its prey.
I press a screaming Ava against me and shoot at it. But it doesn't falter, doesn't even ripple. My chest heaves. My fingers tighten on the grip until the magazine clicks empty.
I toss the useless weapon aside. Just as my hand reaches for a spare, the liquid is there. Right in front of me. Before my reflexes can adjust, it hardens, condenses, and in a heartbeat, it is a man—tall, lanky with long brown hair, grinning like he owns the world.
He snatches the guns from my hands, throwing them away. The sound echoes in my skull like a bell tolling doom.
My pulse spikes, but I cling to Ava, holding her tight as the impossible now stands between us and escape. He makes us look backwards to rest of the men, and, to no one's surprise, our eyes meet the glowing eyeballs of the snake-eyed man.
My body instantly freezes, and once again, I'm at his mercy.
"I see why they told us to be careful. Even if she looks harmless." He steps closer. The shadows swallowing his movement yet amplifying the threat. I want to move, to fire, to pull Ava with me—but my limbs refuse their service. I can't even open my mouth to spit at him.
He tilts my chin upward with a finger, and his eyes bore into mine, glowing like twin embers of malice. "I'll ask the boss to let me have you," he murmurs. "when they're done experimenting."
"Watch out!" The liquid man suddenly yells, and our eyes drift back in time to witness the chaos behind us.
The white van—the very one in which I had been tied up—Is in mid-air and hurtling straight towards a group of men. Some of which manage to step away, while four remain, paralyzed by shock, their expressions morphing from confusion to sheer horror.
A single, final scream rips through the air before it's swallowed by a deafening silence that follows the crash. Metal groans, glass shatters, and the impact detonates like thunder, scattering debris in every direction. A jagged spray of dust and fragments rises, stinging my eyes.
"Who did that!?" The snake-eyed man yells as he looks around.
The answer presents itself in a familiar car that speeds away from the road and heads straight for the men. They manage to scramble away before it screeches to a stop. Just like my heart feels like it's going to stop from how fast it's pounding.
A door slams open. Something I know he'd regret doing afterwards.
Silver eyes sliced through darkness like blades, glinting with murderous intent. Wearing the same overcoat and glasses from our meetup, his face is set in a scowl carved from wrath itself. Calm fury had been replaced by something darker. He radiated it, the night bending around him as though the air itself dared not to defy his will.
But what really stuns me is the sky.
A flock of crows. Dozens of them, gliding in eerie silence above him as if guarding him. Their sharp shapes dart in and out of the clouds before landing and settling on whatever they can find in the area.
Alister...what the heck?