Clara
She blankly stares at me, puzzled. "Invisible? You're going to go in using invisibility?"
I sigh. "Yes, I can do that. I'll tell you all about it later. For now, just focus on distracting her."
She parts her lips to say something but stops, shaking her head and stepping forward towards the door. I activate my ability, feeling the familiar static-like sensation rush over my skin. As she reaches for the handle, I carefully set my gun down against the wall behind me. I can't risk her noticing that my gun doesn't vanish when I do.
Gwen pushes the door open, wide enough for me to slip in behind her. "Miss Everley, I need to speak with you."
The room's tall wooden shelves line the walls, crammed with books. A long table dominates the center of the space, but it's empty, save for two men seated at the far end. They sit beside Everley, who occupies the head of the table.
She is on the phone. Her voice has a hint of frustration threading through her words.
At the far corner, there's a small table cluttered with papers. But what catches my eye is the Hirudin dagger, lying on top.
Everley barely acknowledges Gwen at first, speaking into the phone. "Ron, like I said, I don't care if you're busy. Get here. Now. Something's happening, and I need confirmation before I make a move."
There's a pause, and I hear the faint murmur of a man's voice through the receiver.
Everley nods once, as if satisfied with his answer. "Good. And bring backup. I have a feeling we're going to need it." She hangs up, her fingers drumming against the desk, her eyes narrowing. "Now, why aren't you with the others?" Everley asks Gwen. "Every available staff member is supposed to be securing the prisoners."
Gwen doesn't hesitate. "There's been an issue with the security feeds. Some of the cameras went down right before the prisoners started escaping. I thought it was a technical failure at first, but then I noticed something strange. They were disabled from inside."
While they talk, I move toward Gwen. She almost flinches as I whisper in her ear. "As soon as I create a distraction. Excuse yourself out of the room."
Everley's fingers, which had been drumming idly against the desk, still. "Inside?"
"Yes," Gwen nods, composing herself. "Someone on our side must have tampered with them."
Everley tilts her head, scrutinizing her. "And you didn't report it immediately?"
"I wanted to be sure before causing panic." Gwen replies smoothly.
I move closer to the table. The pressure in my chest tightens with every step, a suffocating weight bearing down on me. At first, it's manageable, but the farther I go, the worse it gets. My breath becomes shallow, each inhale feeling like it takes more effort than the last.
Everley hums, unconvinced. Then, her lips curl into a knowing smirk. "I'd expect nothing less from someone desperate to keep her job. After all, isn't your father still bedridden?" She asks, feigning sympathy. "With how expensive his treatments are, I'd think you'd be doing everything in your power to prove your worth. Not wasting time in places you shouldn't be."
Gwen stiffens, her jaw clenching.
As I hold the dagger in my hand, I can barely breathe. But I know I have to get out of here, and this is my only shot.
My eye falls on the papers on the table. At first glance, they seem ordinary, forms or reports, maybe, but then I notice the names. Dozens of them. Each one paired with chillingly detailed personal information: home addresses, routines, family members, even photographs. These are requests. Hitman orders, written out like shopping lists.
I shake my head and force myself to stay calm. I notice a black pen lying discarded on the table. I snatch it up as well, clutching it in my other hand.
Gwen's gaze flicks to me as I raise the dagger. "I understand. Please excuse me."
I step forward, and with a swift flick of my wrist, I throw the pen across the room, the sound of it slicing through the air filling the space.
The men sitting at the table and Everley immediately turn their heads in unison, their eyes tracking the object as it lands against the far wall. The brief distraction is all I need. Too bad I can't simply slice Everley's throat since her men will shoot me dead.
"What was that?" She questions as she stands up. The man beside her steps forward immediately, moving toward the sound's direction.
Gwen starts moving toward the door, while I quickly follow her. I stagger, just slightly, trying to steady myself, but the strain is too much. I know I can't keep this up for long. The pressure on my chest feels like it's crushing me. My lungs burn for air. My vision goes hazy.
Just as Gwen opens the door, the weight of my powers becomes too much.
"NO!" Everley roars, her eyes snapping to me. Along with everyone looking at me, holding the dagger.
I'm seen.
My feet are already moving. I dash through the door, pushing Gwen forward. As I exit the room, I reach out instinctively, my fingers brushing the gun I'd left behind in the hallway.
I raise it up just in time when one of the men bursts through the door. The gunshot rings out, and the man crumples in a heap as blood spills from the hole between his eyes.
Without sparing another glance, I turn to Gwen, urgency flooding my voice. "Go. Lead me to the others, now!"
Her eyes widen for a split second, but she nods and takes off, guiding me through the hall as I push forward. I notice a camera glaring down at me as we exit a hallway. I groan as I lift the gun and shoot at it. These irritating pain in the necks.
"I'm gonna die." Gwen panics as we run down the hallway. "This was a bad idea. I shouldn't have helped you. I shouldn't have cared about his opinion." She's frantic, almost breathless, but it's hard to focus on her words when every second counts.
As we round the corner, I spot two more staff members coming toward us, their expressions blank at first, but then their shock becomes apparent at our sudden appearance.
I don't even think. I raise the gun in my hand and fire two quick shots. Both of which hit the targets dead center.
More footsteps are rapidly approaching from behind, and the sound of them sends a cold spike of dread through me. Without a moment to lose, I reach for the fallen weapons, my fingers slick with sweat as I fumble for them.
I tuck them under my waistband as Gwen starts rambling something again with teary eyes. I really can't afford for her to have a breakdown. "Where are they?" I demand.
Gwen barely spares me a glance as she leads me. "They'll be at the control room by now. I noticed the cameras were dead."
That makes me slow for half a second, just as we pass under one of the wall-mounted cameras. The red light is off.
A smirk tugs at my lips. Simon.
That ginger must've worked his magic on the security system. If the cameras are dead, chances are every other security measure—the motion sensors, the alarm triggers, even the electronic locks—have been disabled too.
Good. That means we have a clean path.
"Wait," I gasp, the word barely making it out before I stop in my tracks, hands on my knees as I try to suck in air.
Gwen stumbles as she whips around. "Why are you stopping?!"
My lungs feel like they're on fire. As if the air itself is thinning. Maybe it is. We're underground, after all—stale air, low oxygen levels, and the brutal strain of running after using my abilities. It's catching up to me fast.
"Are you asthmatic?" she asks, eyeing me as I lean against the cold wall.
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh between pants. "I think I'm starting to be."
Her gaze darts around the hallway. I can tell she's torn between dragging me along and not pushing me past my limit.
I close my eyes for a second. Get it together, Clara. You don't have time for this.
Suddenly, she snatches the gun away from my hand and presses the barrel against my chest. "I never should've done this," Gwen mutters. Eyes brimming with hysteria. "I should just hand you over and beg for forgiveness. I don't want to die."
I exhale sharply. I expected this all along. "I get it," I say, not pulling away from her grip. "You think there's no way out. That no matter what you do, they'll find you. That they'll hurt your father." I explain. "I know what it's like to be trapped. To owe something to someone powerful, someone who makes you feel like you have no other choice but to obey."
Gwen flinches. "They own me," she whispers, her voice breaking. "They'll find me."
"Then we stop them."
She huffs out a surprised laugh. "You think you can? You don't know how far this goes. You don't know what they're capable of."
"You're right," I admit while slowly inching my fingers towards the gun on my waistband. "I don't. But I know what happens if you stay. You keep burying yourself deeper. And one day, they'll decide you're not useful anymore and throw you away. They don't care about you, Gwen." I finish as my fingers curl around the hidden pistol. "But I do. Tell me, where's your dad? The second we're out of here, we will go to him and make sure he's safe."
Gwen squeezes her eyes shut, then, her grip loosens. "Seattle, Mercy General hospital... Third floor... Room 301"
I suddenly hear faint sounds of someone coming towards us. The moment I see movement at the end of the hallway, I pull out the pistol, and in that split second, my mind sharpens like a blade. Three men. Two armed. One reaching for his radio.
I raise my gun. Aim. Fire twice.
The first two bullets buries itself inside the first and second men's chests. The third turns, mouth opening to shout for backup. I fire. The bullet rips through his throat, silencing him instantly.
Three shots. Three bodies. Three seconds.
I turn to Gwen, who looks taken aback but realizes she needs to make a decision quickly. "Okay." she whispers. "I'll go."
I nod and grab her wrist, pulling her forward. "Then run."
Crack!
The gunshot is sudden, sharp, and unexpected. Gwen gasps and stumbles, clutching at her chest, her face contorting in shock and pain. Blood blossoms at the back of her shirt, a dark, crimson stain spreading rapidly.
My gaze snaps to the far end of the corridor. There, near the corner, stands a man and Everley.
She holds onto a smoking pistol while he aims the nozzle of a fire extinguisher at me. Probably the solution they came up with to make me visible when I disappear.
Gwen crumples to the ground. Her gun slips from her fingers. Her rock that was so precious to her slips out of her pocket and rolls to a distance. For a second, I just stare, unable to process what just happened.
"Don't...leave..." she utters as blood pours out of her mouth and her fingers reach out and clutch the hem of my trousers.
"Invisibility, Clara?" Everley's voice calls out, amused. "I knew you two were going to be extremely fascinating. Ugh, I didn't want to hurt you two, so why are you making it annoyingly hard?"
Gwen coughs, a wet, choking sound. "I don't...wanna die, please. Don't leave...me." Tears stream down her face as she cries.
But just then, I spot the man pressing the lever. I quickly grab the small, dusty rock before turning around, freeing myself from Gwens grip and running away, just when the extinguisher powder hits me. It covers my arm, but I try to brush it off while I run away.
"Don't let her get away!"
I glance back at Gwen, her wide vacant eyes watching me run away. Leaving her behind to take her last breaths.
I'm sorry...
I sprint down hallways, towards the directions she gave me. The weight of the rock in my palm feels heavier than it should. I shove it into my pocket, alongside the dagger.
A stitch burns in my side, but I ignore it as I make a sharp turn. More armed staff. I drop to one knee, aiming before they can react. One shot each. Straight through the skull.
Keep moving. Because if I don't, if I slow down even for a moment, I'll have to remember them. All those pleading eyes that silently begged me to save them. And I couldn't.
Then—footsteps. Someone's coming. And from the hallway I'm about to enter, no less. I spin into it, gun aimed, my finger tightening around the trigger. But the moment my eyes land on him, everything freezes.
He skids to a halt at the sight of me, his gun already halfway raised before he realizes who I am. For the first time since I've known him, he looks… shaken.
My legs are already moving, carrying me toward him as if I've been waiting for this moment not for hours, but for lifetimes. I collide into his arms like a wave crashing to shore. I wrap my arms around him tightly, pressing my face into his neck. His scent, the warmth of his embrace, the sound of his heartbeat. I crave it all.
Alister holds me so fiercely it almost hurts, as if he fears I might break apart and scatter like smoke if he lets go. Gathering every shattered piece of me and holding it close. I can feel the thrum of his heartbeat beneath my cheek, wild and erratic, matching my own.
I shudder against him. He's never held me like this before. Never touched me with this kind of raw, unfiltered desperation. The world could end around us, and I wouldn't care. The ceiling could crumble to ash. I'd still beg time to stop. Just for this. I want to stay here, buried in his arms, feeling his heart race against mine.
I pull back to find his tired eyes, and his hands move up to cup my face, thumbs wiping away tears I didn't know I was spilling. I notice the exhaustion in his features and my heart sinks.
I squeeze my eyes shut. "...I'm sorry. It's because of me that—"
But I don't get to finish. Because Alister rudely interrupts by leaning in and pressing his lips against my cheek.