..::Aɴɢᴇʟs ᴏғ Dᴇᴀᴛʜ::.. [Rʏᴀx & Iʀᴏɴɪᴄ]

[Ironic]

Have you ever been so cold that it woke you up from a deep sleep? Your skin tingled, and felt numb, yet it hurt as if needles were impaling your flesh? Rachel tossed and turned on the harsh cement floor, groaning out as her lids fluttered open. Those black pupils expanded as the darkness consumed her eyes. The air was so frigid that she could feel the vapor from her breath exit her lungs, creating a smoky illusion.

Alarmingly, underneath her form wasn’t the soft and comforting security of a mattress that she remembered falling asleep on. Instead, the paved cement flooring accompanied with the dusty scent of a recently wet basement tingled inside of her nostrils. Gently she pulled herself up to sit upright, grasping the right side of her head from sleeping on it wrong. Tiny pebbles of rock coated her clothing and digging into her skin, her hands quick to brush them off before standing firmly on both of her feet.

“Hello?” Her voice reverberated from the musky walls that enclosed her. A lingering sense of dread washed over her, the hairs on her skin protruding upwards to form into tiny little handstands. Bleakly, she shook her head to rid of the nightmare she was having, shielding her blue irises securely before opening them once more, only to display that her nightmare was indeed a reality.

As she walked along the hardened floors, the heels of her shoes snapped against it. Nearby was a staircase that led upstairs, a distant light peeking out from an almost closed door. Without hesitating she eagerly paced up the stairs and opened the door. It was blinding for a moment as the rays of the light infiltrated her eyes. Her hand defended her eyes to adjust to the radiant brightness before lowering her guard and soaking in the sight. She was in another room, the lights on the ceiling brighter than the sun. It was abandoned, wherever she was. “I must be on the first floor…” She noted to herself as her body spun around to inspect the room. The walls were painted white, but the bricked cracks in the wall were lined with dirt, a sign of neglect for a long period of time.

“Is anyone in here?” Rachel raised her voice, only to hear the echo of her question play back into her awaiting ears. Biting her lip in frustration, she continued her search, hoping to find a way out or someone who could help her. As she strolled impatiently throughout the room, thoughts exploded in her head. ‘How did I get here? Where am I? Did someone bring me here? How close am I to home?’ It was hard to keep up with the rolling questions that needed to be answered. Her breathing grew quicker, hoarser, her heart racing inside of her chest. “Calm down, just figure a way through this.” Reassuring herself, her hands wrapped around her waist, each step growing more cautious and speculative.

“Can anyone assist me?” Another courageous outburst from her parted lips, yet again nothing to answer besides her resonance. Why even bother trying? Sighing in frustration, she continued her way into a doorway, leading to another room that was filled with furniture. It appeared livelier than the previous room, but it didn’t remove her caution.

Silently, a muffled sound caused her ears to twitch, her body whirling around towards the direction of the commotion. “Hello?” The friendly greeting was returned with the rolling of a can that had fallen from a nearby table, her brows furrowing in agitation. “This isn’t funny, if this is some kind of prank.” The tone was more of a growl than of fright, but she would be lying if she proclaimed she wasn’t fearful. She had no option but to venture the building, hoping for a way out, or a miracle.

 

[Ryax]

Isac's eyelids flung open, a painful light instantly burning his dark pupils upon doing so, a bright light situated directly above him, causing him to shut his lids again and a pained groan to escape his lips at the surprisingly rude awakening. He rolled himself over in an attempt to escape the brightness and found himself rolling off whatever surface he'd woken up on. Slamming stiffly onto the ground, Isac voiced another groan this time more angry and pained then the last one. "For fuck's sake" he moaned in irritation as he helped himself up onto his feet, squinting his eyes in an attempt to limit the brightness. Raising a hand between the light and his eyes he could look around a bit while his eyes adjusted.

It appeared that he was standing in a surgical room, equipment for the cause strewn about the room, all from trays of apparent surgical equipment to focused lights and the surgical table he had woken up on and subsequently fallen off of. The walls, floor and ceiling were all a dull sterile white. It looked like the room had fallen into disuse over time, layers of dust covered every surface and the paint was flaking off of the walls. Isac was confused, this was not where he'd spent the night, for he remembered shacking up in a barred off old apartment building in a slum. He looked himself over, nothing missing on his person, still thoroughly clad in bandages and dressed in his blood red jeans and brown hoodie.

He couldn't find the knife he usually had close by. He felt naked without it, so he decided to pace the room and look for it or a suitable replacement. He found some bandages which he stuffed into his pockets, and a scalpel which he decided would be useful, but not his knife.

Isac was starting to grow bored of this room already. There was a door at the far side so he decided that he'd get out of there and take a look at the rest of the hospital he was in. Behind the door was not quite what he expected for he found himself in an indoor closed ecosystem hydroponics growing facility. Standing frozen in the doorway, he blinked a few times at the sight, proceeded to look behind him at the surgical room and then back to the hydroponics facility. "What the actual shit." Isac blatantly said out loud as he took a step into the new room. The air in the room was damp and fresh, refreshing compared to the stale and dry variety of the last room. The room was in the processes of becoming overgrown, looked to have fallen into disuse much like the last room. A few of the lights in the ceiling no longer working, a few blinking in a random pattern.

Isac took a quick gander at the room before impatiently deciding to leave this place as fast as he could. When he exited through the other door, to his dismay, he entered another random room. This time a solid stone walled room with a single, massive looking stone table smack in the middle of the room and an empty fireplace in the center of the wall opposite to the door he entered through. The room was clad in a thick layer of dust that whirled up and about as Isac had opened the door in a hurry. Isac was hit with the heavy scent of dry air and dust and had a small coughing fit, quickly covering his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his hoodie to filter out the dust. He quickly noted that there was two doors in this room, one on the right hand wall and one on the left hand wall.

A fear began spreading through him at this point. "Where the fuck am I?" he basically asked himself or whomever might be listening as he glanced the room over before dancing his gaze at the two doors trying to decide which one to take. The right one. Swiftly moving through the room he opened the door and yet another random room was presented to him. Isac kept this up for a while, his fear growing with each nonsensical room he encountered, each one a different atmosphere, shape and size.

Stalking through the seemingly endless spaces he eventually landed himself in a dusty, damp shed with a packed dirt floor and farming tools hanging across the walls and a couple of small shelves in the middle of the room, littered with dusty cans. He hadn't eaten anything in hours and had become hungry. Walking over to the shelf Isac took one of the cans in his right hand, blew on it and dusted it off with his left arm. The label read 'Pickled Cucumbers'. "I fucking hate cucumbers." he said and threw the can behind him with a few dull metallic thuds. He tried another can. And another. And another. They were all pickled cucumbers. Isac grew more angry with each can of pickled cucumbers he discovered, eventually he boiled over and snapped, kicking the shelves to the ground while screaming "Fucking die! Die! Die! Die! Die!" as he stomped and kicked on the cans, breaking the individual shelves and scattering the remains across the floor. Isac was grinding his teeth together, his hands clenched shut tightly and his breath panting and ragged, slightly growls escaping the minuscule spaces between his teeth.

Suddenly, his stomach rumbled hungrily. Isac's tantrum was quickly dispelled, his facial expression quickly turned empty, his eyes filled with resignation when he realized his fate was either to consume such a vile thing or succumb to hunger. "I fucking hate cucumbers." he repeated to himself as he sighed heavily, picked up one of the cans that wasn't already busted open and turned himself around to leave this wretched place behind once and for all through the remaining door. Halfway through the room he suddenly spotted something in his peripheral vision. He stopped, turned his head snappily and fixed his gaze on one of the tools hanging on the wall. An old scythe. "Well now. That's more like it." he told himself out loud, a hint of appreciation in the way he said it. He'd always wanted a scythe. There was something about them that intrigued him, the elegant brutality of them. He moved to grab it and took it off the wall, felt it's surprisingly heavy weight and took a few practice swings with a single hand. Strangely enough, it didn't look that old when compared to the other tools in the shed. It even had a different design then a common wheat scythe, clad full in metal with a larger more prominent blade. Isac took an instant liking to it, it suited him. It suited him for what he always envisioned he'd do with a scythe.

Returning his attention to the can in his hand, he shuddered and re-resigned himself to his fate as he turned and went for the door. The next room had wooden walls and floor, a white painted ceiling and was littered with furniture and useless items he cared little for strewn about. A couple of lights were even placed along the walls in containers that looked like old oil lamps. There was a few other heavy looking wooden doors in this room, and most prominently a cushiony looking chair off to one side of the room, facing one of the walls. Isac made his way to the chair, sat down in it and put his new toy on the floor. He retrieved the scalpel he'd found in the room he'd woken up in and jammed it in the top of the can and used it like a can opener. After a little bit of effort the can was successfully opened and Isac reluctantly took one of the fat, disgusting pickled cucumbers out and took a long, disgusted look at it before closing his eyes and chomping it down, bit by bit, with as little chewing as possible. Eventually he'd made his way through the entire can and was quite disgusted with himself, but no longer hungry. He placed the can on a nearby table within reach of the chair and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and simply resting for a bit.

A couple of long moments later and Isac had fallen asleep. However he'd only fallen lightly asleep for when the sudden echo of a single, but prominent, 'Hello?' resounded in the room, Isac's eyes darted open in surprise, his pulse shot high and he was filled with adrenaline. He didn't expect to have found someone to play with his new toy so soon, let alone anyone at all. Oh how excited he was! He tried to be silent but moved to quickly in his recently awakened state to grab his scythe off the floor and accidentally bumped it into the table, sending the empty can he placed there earlier shambling onto the floor. The person, the woman, in the room had obviously noticed his fuck up and he took a few moments to decide how to go about using his new toy.

Isac settled on a little game. A little hunt. That it would be fun to play with this person a bit before he'd actually 'play' with her. "I'd be really sad if this was just a prank." he said out loud, calmly, containing his bold excitement. Isac stood himself up and moved around the chair so that he could see the origin of the voice, and she could in turn see him and his scythe. A woman. A defenseless woman by the looks of it. Perfect! He placed his scythe on the wooden floor with a heavy thud, displaying his scythe as it towered slightly above him, the blade cleanly crossing from one end of him to the other. He displayed himself for a short while, sporting a blank face and staring steadily at the woman, meeting her gaze when she looked in his eyes.

After the moment had passed, Isac repositioned his scythe and let the top fall with a heavy thunk on the floor, blade pointing backwards so that he could drag it behind him and make great noises for exciting his prey into deeper fear. "Unless you want to feel what it's like being strangled by your own intestines, I suggest you start running, because I'm here to kill you." he told her rather bluntly. He wasn't aiming to instill any creeping fear. He wanted the full blown panic shit storm instant terror fear that would keep this game oh so exciting for him and really get him going. He began moving towards the woman, his eyes still fixed on her but now a grin spread across his lips instead. This had the potential to be a very fun day!

 

[Ironic]

Rachel didn’t expect to receive a response at all, let alone after not receiving anything in return from her previous outbursts of greetings. She jerked in disbelief, her eyes widening before cocking her head to the side to inspect the shadowy figure making its way towards her. By the looks of the silhouetted figure, it appeared to be a tall male, wearing jacket? The riffles from the shirt detailed itself in the shadows, causing her to squint to concentrate on it profoundly. A long, curved-like item was engrossed in his grip, appearing to be a Halloween accessory.

The suspense finally ceased once the figure showcased itself. How coolly he responded to her didn’t match his visual description. His body was riddled with bandages, his eyes glowering, yet a sadistic twist painted in his enthusiastic pupils. The item he wielded wasn’t a prop, it was a scythe. A legit scythe! The blade shimmered in her eyes when the dim light of the room reflected upon it. A reflection of her petrified features within the blade mocked back at her.

Forcing down the saliva that overflowed in her mouth from fear, she gulped violently. Her mouth opened, wanting to talk to the stranger, but nothing came out. She was stricken with horror. Those eyes of his scanned hers, void of any emotions. So many questions were penetrating her thoughts, wanting to ask him who he was and why he equipped such a frightening weapon? Were there monsters here that required him to wield his scythe?

Little did she know; the monster was really him.

THUNK!

Shuddering from the unexpected sound, she realized that he had her in the palm of his hand. Her eyes adverted from his to glance at the dropped scythe, only for her blue irises attend back to stay glued onto his own hues. She couldn’t risk letting her guard down. He was giving her mixed signals. His next response was loud and clear of his intentions, causing no more doubts. It saddened her to know that the only person she could confine to in this situation wanted to kill her. ‘Just fuckin’ peachy.’ She growled inside of her head before pivoting her heal and bolting out of the doorway. It wouldn’t take long for his own pitter-patter of footsteps echoed down the same pathway as her own.

Not knowing where you were or how to maneuver around the building wasn’t as thrilling as most might say, especially when you have someone behind your tracks wanting to kill you in the most inhumane ways possible. She knew that it was best to not look behind her, but curiosity got the best of her interests. Her head turned to peer over her shoulder to see the fervor coating his face, similar to a lion feeling the thrill of a hunt as he chased down a zebra.

“Please, stop! You must have found the wrong person!” She finally managed to get something out from her useless throat, despite the words being cracklier than she had hoped. It only made her look more pathetic in the eyes of a thrilled-killer. She had never met this guy before, so why would he want to kill her so badly? As far as she remembered, she hadn’t done anything bad, let alone hurt someone else to have them hire a hitman. Was this why she was sent in this unknown place? ‘Think about these questions later, dumbass!’ Her thoughts barked back at her.

A burning sensation brewed inside of her calves, feeling the fatigue of her running finally catch up to her. She shouldn’t worked-out more and been more athletic for situations like these, but you don’t anticipate your own doom everyday by a murderer. Rachel left the doorway to the room to be invited into another bland room. This time it was a bedroom, but she couldn’t risk hiding under the mattress, she needed more time away from him to get into a place to hide.

It didn’t surprise her that, yet another door was placed inside of the bedroom. Without a second thought she eagerly gripped at the handle to hear the approving click of the door giving away to be pried open. Another bedroom, but this time it had a treasure-like-chest inside without a lock. It was a decent size, enough to let her form fit inside of it.

No more hesitation. Quickly she meddled the top of the chest to open before rapidly jumping inside of the wooden crate before closing the top. Her hand wrapped around her mouth, trying to muffle the sounds of heavy breathing and to lower her racing heart rate.

“Oh my god, am I going to die?” She feared before closing her eyes tightly to rid of the pessimistic thoughts.

That was, until the bedroom door slammed open to announce his grand entrance.

 

[Ryax]

Isac could feel that he had the woman's emotional state in the palm of his hand. Her actions betrayed her. Her eyes shimmering with fear. Her voice faltering silently. Her presence shrinking with every passing moment. He was getting reallyexcited to have her dance to his tune, like a puppeteer's doll with him controlling the strings. As he was approaching her, he watched her eyes closely darting between him and his scythe. He had seen it so many times before. 'That's it. Run little rabbit; Run.' he mused to himself, reveling, almost erotically so, in her sick terror of him.

Suddenly, she turned heel and bolted, just like he'd predicted. Adrenaline concentration within his blood shot through the roof. His pupils dilated slightly, like a cat who's getting ready to pounce it's prey. His mouth began salivating at the situation, so much so that he had to close his grin for but a moment and swallow his excitement down. Giving her, by his standards, a generous head start, he kept pacing forward as slowly as he had before when he had approached her. Waiting for the moment when the woman passed the threshold of the doorway of her choosing to begin his hunt. Once the sound reached him of her first foot tapping the floor of the other room, Isac sprung into action, flinging up his scythe forwards with a scraping sound, with some effort, onto his shoulder, the blade draping down along his back but with enough room for him to be able to run unhindered.

He flung himself after her, chasing the sound of her footsteps and her somewhat blurry silhouette. She was fast, but not fast enough to escape him, to Isac's never ending joy. A few rooms down, she finally spoke to him, the usual innocent garbage however. It didn't particularly kill his interest in her gory future as she'd have hoped. He didn't even provide her with an answer, not even so much as a grunt, because he couldn't even think of one, her words falling completely on deaf ears. Isac's mind was absolutely preoccupied with imagining vivid images of her mutilated flesh.

The sound and presence of the woman's progress was ever steady, until it suddenly vanished into thin air like a plume of smoke. No more sound, no more glimpses of her form dashing away. To think that she'd managed to hide from him. Isac's excitement, impossibly, grew even more, his skin positively tingling from adrenaline fueled excitement. He closed his eyes and with his left hand, Isac reached up and ran his hand through the damp strands of hair on the top of his head before slowly running his hand down along his body, orgasmic tingling explosions of pleasure erupting trailed along the skin where his hand moved. A sighed moan escaped his hips, his member erect and pressing angrily against the tough lining of his jeans. His breath had become slightly ragged from the powerful sensations he was feeling, instead of simply heavy from the chase. He opened his eyes again, a sick grin splayed itself across his lips as he begun the hunt anew in the next game his prey had decided on.

Filled with new vigorous excitement, Isac kicked open the bedroom door to where she was hiding, breaking the lock in the process, the handle hanging limply from its socket as the door settled splayed fully open. He paced the room slowly. Taking steady, slow steps, all while listening for breathing, a heartbeat, sniffing the air like an animal on the hunt for smells of eventual perfume or sweat. "So you think you've managed to hide, have you. Don't worry little rabbit, I'll find you soon enough." he told her, wherever she was hiding, a playful air to his words.

He made a spectacle about revealing every place he could find that she could have hidden herself with plenty gusto. Even throwing some things out of large cabinets like sheets and curtains, scattering them on parts of the floor. He had purposely avoided to open the chest, because it simply looked too inviting. With every reveal that turned out to be false, Isac's heart begun racing faster for the excitement of finding her in the next place would be ever greater. It was almost as if he was playing the lottery. Once he'd search all the other places however, there was only the chest left. Isac's heart was aching in his chest, a sick grin spread across his lips once again as he approached it slowly.

Savoring the sensation for but a moment, standing in front of the chest, Isac eventually prodded the slight space between the chest and the lid, before wrenching it open fully with his scythe. And there she was, crammed into the chest like a long sought after treasure. "Peek-a-boo, I found you!" he told her, grinning happily at her scared frame. Isac moved himself away a bit and kicked the chest with a heavy thud and saw it shudder slightly. "Get out. I don't want to kill you like that, it's pathetic. Let me at least have a proper look at you." he told her with an unconcerned scowl, however still smiling rather hard, testing the boundaries of his lips.

He stood firmly on both his feet spread slightly apart. His right hand gripping the middle of the scythe, it's butt firmly planted on the ground to his right, the blade pointing directly away from him. His left hand was firmly placed on the left side of his waist, creating an empty triangle. Isac's head was slightly tilted, his expression unwavering for the moment as he excitedly awaited her to exit her place of useless hiding.

If she'd take too long to get out, Isac would overturn the chest, forcing her to exit it. He didn't know what other contents the chest held, he hadn't been too attentive about that since he discovered her. He wasn't about to let her go unless she forced him to, no matter how fun she had turned out to be, escaping and hiding with such vigor and cleverness. Wielding a large close range weapon such as a scythe, narrow passages or ranged weapons like a gun could easily thwart his efforts if he tried to take her life. Even large textiles like sheets or curtains could work as a sort of net for him to get tangled into, albeit only for a very short time.

 

[Ironic]

Rachel grabbed at her mouth so forcefully that her hand shook from the strength, sweat forming at her hairline as he strode into the room. He was digging through something, clutter clashing to the ground sounding into her ears. The light vibrations of the dropped items could be felt within the chest, and by the feel of it he wasn’t too far away from her.

“Maybe he’ll avoid this chest, it doesn’t seem too conspicuous, right?” Gently she reassured herself despite the pounding in her heart telling her otherwise. Eerily those footsteps crept up closer, the deep ins-and-outs of his ragged breathing right beside her. The position she was resting in, a tight ball, was starting to get uncomfortable. She needed to move before she stiffened up, and gently contorted her torso to the left before a sharp object jabbed at her ribs. It took everything in her to not make a sound, but with her free hand she patted around the area that attempted to impale her. Regardless of the darkness, she was able to feel what that blunt object was… A pocket knife.

Sharpened the blade was, almost slicing the tip of her finger as she ran it along the edge to finalize what the object was. Never has she hurt someone, especially out of survival. Everyone watches murder mysteries on television, but they always think it’ll never happen to them. Well, she was on of those people until tonight changed her outlook. The world was a dangerous place, and she wished she was more careful or wielded weapons just in case. She got lucky with this knife residing in the chest. It was meant to be, so to speak.

Her mind was running in so many different directions that she had almost forgotten about the sadistic fuck outside her chest, until the top of the chest rumbled before opening to reveal her sweaty and pale body. Those irises glistened like sequins in the ocean, the sun’s rays casting down on them, but it wasn’t the sun, it was the light in the room, and they shimmered so much because she was crying without realizing it. Her frozen body shifted under the shudder of the chest, his foot kicking it as if inspecting its durability.

It sickened her how happy he was, how much pride he took in hovering over his prey. She wanted to clean that smug look off his face. She had to admit, she was grateful for him being somewhat “nice” in his way of not wanting to kill her in her pitiful state, and she would take him up on his opportunity.

Starkly her right hand was gripping at the handle of the blade, her knuckles turning white from the power she was exerting into her grip. She was entrusting her life with this blade, and it better be put to good use. The scythe mocked her as her reflection still stayed gleaming within the blade. Without waiting another second, determination flowing in her veins, she chucked the blade underneath his right ribcage, impaling him like melted butter. Underneath her was a bedsheet frame, the silky materiel being an excellent net while she escaped. While he was fixated on his new wound, she grabbed the sheet and entangled him in it as she jolted out of the chest. During her escape, her shoulder met with the blade before cutting into her flesh, not too deep but a good slice that burned once the air grazed it.

This time she wouldn’t look back. She didn’t want to risk being slowed down. She ran faster than before, her entire body aching from the force of her pace. Her calves tightened up, begging to cease the running, but she continued regardless of the throbbing. Unevenly she breathed, running from room-to-room, hallway-to-hallway, staircase-to-staircase, not even taking notice to where she was or what was in the room. By this time, she was already on the third floor. B3 reading at the top of the hallway.

Her knees buckles inwards before collapsing against the cold wall, her palms outstretched to catch herself on the wall as she breathed out heavily through her mouth. She tremored, but she could only hear herself. No one was following her. Just her and her lonesome. There was no saliva left in her mouth, leaving her dying for a drink of water, something, anything. A picture of him sprawled into her head, her hands banging against her forehead to rid the thoughts of him.

“You’re okay now, just get yourself up and check this floor out.” Sighing out, she gently stood back up onto her feet before they wobbled. “You have to walk!” She shouted at them before taking a step. It hurt, and she rubbed her calves to loosen them up before trying again. It worked, but the pain still lingered. It was tolerable enough, so she perused forward.

It was cooler up here, soothing her drenched skin in sweat as the cold air brushed up against it. A door was opened, but it was dark inside. Lightly her left hand tapped at the wall besides the door, hoping to find a light switch to lighten this place up. A long and skinny switch protruded outwards once her fingertips skated over it, rapidly clicking it upwards to ignite the flickering of lights.

“This place is… There are papers all over the place…. These are… Resumes?” Her eyes adjusted as she peered around. A wooden table was fitted in the center of the room, bookshelves lining up the brick walls. Papers scattered all over the floor, table, and walls. Her pace was steady as she walked towards a piece of paper on the ground, kneeling down to grasp it before peering at the fine print.

“Watkins Beckett, died at age 24. Cause of death, blood loss due to a gunshot wound.” Muttering the words under her breath she read it aloud, eyes darting back and fourth as she continued to read it. Another paper on the desk was seized before reading it like before. “Age 18. Hanged.” Another paper. “Age 32. Decapitation.” Another. “Age 15. Multiple stab wounds…. These are all records of all the people who came here?”

A resume in the corner of her eye caught her attention, the photo ID resembling someone that looks like her… Wait! That was her! “This has my name on it, it’s quite detailed…” She grabbed it carefully, not wanting to crumble it or anything. “Rachel Gardener. Age 20. Alive. Memories erased upon arrival. Parents deceased…. My parents are dead?” Upon reading the text, her heart sank, a frog getting lodged in her throat, making it impossible to swallow down the lump. A flashback erupted like a volcano in her mind, a picture of her parents. “Why can’t I remember!” She threw the paper on the ground before slamming her fists on the table, burying her head in her arms. Sniffling as tears cascaded down her cheeks, she glanced upwards to see a photo of the guy who was chasing her. Should she read it? Perhaps being killed by him wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Stretching across the table she grabbed in uncaringly, reading it as the information glowed before her. “Isaac Foster. Serial Killer. Estimated to be around 20 years old, actual birthday unknown. He was placed in an orphanage during childhood. Detailed about the orphanage are unclear before raided by police. The bodies of a couple, believed to have been the owners, were found mutilated. Isaac was nowhere to be found. His upper body is covered in scars, perhaps burned, sustained while he was a child.” Scratching the back of her head, she gently set down the paper, realizing just how much he really has gone through. But why did he want to kill so badly? The papers didn’t say much, not even her own besides little, and yet his was more detailed?

Regardless, after reading it, a new feeling came over her. She didn’t know where she was, that didn’t change, but she knew a little about her life. Even though she couldn’t remember her parents, the news of them being dead left her heart hurting. She wished she could have remembered them, no matter how hard she tried to see the memories inside of her locked-up mind, but it didn’t know.

“Maybe if I do die, I will know the answers?”

 

[Ryax]

Isac was triumphantly awaiting his prey to escape the shitty hiding place she'd chosen for herself. Usually the victims of his whims didn't put up much of a fight if he was to choose for them, and he usually did. Neither of them had been as feisty as this little minx turned out to be, catching him off guard while he was gloating and stabbing him between two of his ribs. He yelped in surprise, clutched at where she had stabbed him, inhaling a sharp breath and his face contorting in a surprised pain. "You little whooore!" Isac screamed after the bolting girl. He felt the slight shudder of his weapon as the woman sliced herself on its blade.

It took Isac a little while to recuperate from the sneaky full frontal shanking. Having instinctively clutched hard at his would, he ultimately, with care, removed his hand from the fresh wound, his bandages coloring a deep red around the point of impact. He checked his breathing, testing his new limit and groaned painfully as the wound sent sharp signals to stop what he was doing. He was still able to breathe, fortunately for him she hadn't managed to puncture his lung. "You shitty little shit, I'm going to get you back for that!", he voiced in anger, wincing and groaning in fresh pain as a result before he turned his attention to his scythe, specifically because he'd felt the shuddering of her body connecting with it. He'd hoped that it had drawn blood, and it seems like he was in luck today. The sharp tip of the scythe blade had a faint slash of blood. He figured it had to be a fairly shallow wound, but maybe there'd be traces he could follow. And so began the second hunt, with less excitement and more determination as a trade off.

Isac had less luck when attempting to follow the tracks of his escapee. While she had nicked her skin, it hadn't been deep, only a mere minor drop of blood found here and there. With considerable effort in trying to trace her, Isac finally had to give up. He had lost her to the maze of doors and stairs. Isac was bubbling over with rage at this point, went to the nearest room with lots of breakables and positively trashed the place, cutting what could be cut, breaking what could be broken. He grunted, screamed, swore his throat sore until basically everything in the room was to shreds. As his tantrum eventually subsided as things to destroy began to run out, he went into a nearby stairwell and sat down heavily on the lowermost step, dejectedly and defeated dropping his scythe to the ground with a series of loud metallic clangs. "I fucking hate this place...", he muttered lowly under the guise of a heavy sigh. He rested his elbows on his knees, and in turn his face in his hands.

Isac stayed like that for a good twenty minutes before he lifted his face from his hands, wincing from the slight pain jolting through him at his settled wound. He took another look at the damage done, this time he'd be taking his time doing so, peeling off his bandages, cleaning some of the blood off, making sure there weren't any unwanted gunk in there before he'd rebandage himself across the wound with some fresh gauze he'd picked up in the surgical room where he'd woken up. The wrappings both above and below were still riddled with deep red moistness.

Having regained his composure, he grabbed his scythe with his left hand and stood himself up. He looked to both sides, wondering where to go, before turning around and looking up the stairs. Isac shrugged his shoulders a little and grunted indifferently before he began climbing them. He had nothing to follow now, nothing to hunt or kill, no clear way out. He was substantially dejected from the deeply unsatisfying experience and had thus began wandering fairly aimlessly, gently guided by his innate instinct, until he'd be confronted with something to grab his attention for real. Passing through empty rooms, corridors, stairwells, to dusty old libraries and sterile offices, there wasn't a speck of life anywhere to be seen. Some rooms were already lit, some were dark as the pits of hell. It was always eerily quiet.

An hour into the aimless shuffling about, he eventually came across another lit room and sat down on a table in the middle of an otherwise furniture and featureless empty room. His dulled mind didn't notice anything at first, but as the seconds, minutes, passed by, things slowly became clearer, the thick fog fading from his mind and again revealing the once clear landscape of his surroundings. Papers scattered everywhere. Isac slowly swiveled his head, left, right, left again. Papers everywhere. The entire table, the floor was even blanketed in scattered pristine papers. A flame of curiosity slowly peeking forth inside of him guided his hand to pick one of the papers up and let his eyes take a gander at its contents. "May Warren. Deceased at age 36. Skewered onto a rusty pipe.", he read out loud as he processed the words. After he was done, he laid his hand to rest on his lap and looked up and audibly scoffed at what he'd just read. Dropping the paper absentmindedly to the floor, he picked up another one on the table and read it. It contained the same information of name, age and death, but about another person. He picked up another one, scoffed again, the contents were the same. Hints of a wicked grin showed at the corners of his mouth. "Sure is one conceited asshole for keeping records of all this shit", he said to himself in a far off corner of his mind manner with a slight tinge of enjoyment.

While the vast majority of papers seemed pristine, covered in some dust but otherwise contained no signs of use, a few of the papers seemed to have been disturbed. This caught Isacs interest, potential signs of life, maybe even signs of the woman he'd failed to kill earlier. Instead of picking up random papers anymore, he got off the table carefully and began to look for other signs of papers having been disturbed, ones not disturbed solely by himself and his butt that is. Isac suddenly froze when he noticed a very specific paper, one labeled with his name, one that had been disturbed as well. He hesitated for a few seconds, trying to sort out the flailing emotions in his mind before he just grabbed the paper and began reading it without a care for his own well being, his curiosity overriding his sense of self preservation. Eyeing the paper down slowly and methodically, Isac's mood grew more and more sullen, the corners of his mouth no longer showing smiles but a locked down sadness as disturbing memories came flooding back and a sense of being covered in filth washed over him.

Having read every single word on the piece of paper, he no longer wished to partake in this game and was set on destroying the filthy things that jogged his memories to such uncomfortable places. He kicked the table over, scattering the papers around the room before swiveling around and pacing backwards with determined steps. He was going for a can of lighter fuel he'd noticed in aimless passing found in a shed along the way to his current room. Returning ever more determined with the can in his hand, he popped it open with the tip of his scythe and scattered the sharp and dulling-of-his-senses smelling substance across the floor of the room. Tossing the empty can aimlessly into the room, he looked around for anything to ignite the gases. Failing to find anything he didn't want to backtrack again, even if it was only a few minutes. One trip had been enough. Entering the next room in the endless maze, it was a fancy room with a glass chandelier, marble floor, a now rotten and decaying feast upon a marble and varnished oak table. Candelabras scattered across the walls of the room. The smell was sharp and terrible, Isac wincing audibly and covered his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his left arm. "Fucking noble shits" he caughed forth vehemently as he looked back to the other room, then down to the floor and back. Taking a step back he raised his scythe high with his right arm, took aim, and slammed it down on the marble floor in an arc towards the gassed up room so that a few sparks were created by the friction. Most of the sparks flew short or hit the door frame, but one brave little fiery hero landed right where it was supposed to, igniting the gasses and the room quickly filled with fire with a loud Thwoomping sound. Isac looked on proudly at the crackling and wildly spreading inferno before he kicked the door closed between the lit room and the rotten feast.

Isac was proudly showered with glee, but only for a moment, before he again was without aim and purpose in the depressing maze. He quickly exited the rotten room and closed the door behind him to another room, again brightly lit, but this time with 80s style fluorescent neon lights covering the walls and ceiling. Taking a moment to lower his sleeve from his mouth again and looking about the room. "I really fucking hate this place..." he told himself out loud again as he made his way to exit this, to him abhorrent, room and venture further in the mysterious labyrinth he was trapped in.

 

[Ironic]

Something churned inside of Rachel’s gut. Was she feeling sick? Hungry? It was hard to tell when thousands of emotions run through your mind. “Remember, that’s all you have to do.” She paced back and forth within the hallway, her fingers sprawling out to entangle themselves within her golden tresses. “I want to remember, it’s on the tip of my tongue!” Physically, she started to pound against her head, so hard that it rattled and ached afterwards. Defeat was settling in, her back leaning harshly against the brick wall. Gradually she slid down it, her head burrowing into her kneecaps before wrapping her arms around her legs. She held onto them tightly as she felt herself falling apart. Why was it so hard to accept the truth? Was it because she had no control over her fate at this moment? Hell, it doesn’t even matter anymore.

Instead of staying in this pitiful state she would place both palms firmly on the ground to help her stand onto both feet, encouraging herself to not fall apart. But then, something snapped inside of her, like a rock colliding with a twig. Those once iridescent ocean eyes were filled with hopelessness, yet acceptance. They were duller than a worn-out blade. No emotion.

Wandering like a lost dog in the big city streets, she paced from room-to-room, not being phased at all anymore by the change of rooms. Besides… Isaac was it? Well, besides him, that was the only person she witnessed here in the building, if that’s what this is. “I don’t even know what happened to him after I stabbed him.” Rachel thought on it, not really taking it into consideration after bolting away.

Then she remembered.

Peering over her shoulder she would see the tear in her clothing, finding blood seeping into the fabric of her shirt. She had to thank her clothes for creating some type of resistance, so the wound wouldn’t be so deep, but it didn’t look too good regardless. Huffing in a breath of cool air, she blew it onto her crusty-blood-coated wound before wincing at the burning sensation ravaging her shoulder. It wouldn’t slow her down, but it more-or-less agitated her. Besides, it was already healing as a hardened layer of blood was clotting it decently.

After travelling for around 30 minutes and still going nowhere, she took it upon herself to sit on a chair that was fixed in the corner of the room. This room was decent, in fact, one of the best ones she had visited. A chandelier radiated in the middle of the room, the faux bulbs flickering like flames. Fine china was carefully placed inside a white cabinet, accompanied with some porcelain teacups. A grandiloquent table looked large enough to fit eight individuals. An old scene played through her mind, males wearing those long white wigs, bringing some women in with atrocious white powdered-on face. It helped to break the tension as she laughed at the thought. It was too good to be true until a large Throomping sound discharged into her eardrums.

It startled her, but caused more curiosity than anything. “It’s… coming from the level above me? The one I just left. But I don’t remember anyone being up there with me?” She couldn’t push the thoughts away as she trailed up the stairs towards B3. Once her foot planted on the very last stair towards the new level, an intense heat caused her to shield her face, the waves of hotness stinging her flesh.

Peering her head out of the doorway to inspect the situation, Isaac could be seen exiting a room. With close inspection through the smoke she could see the maroon colored bandages from where she struck him, a feeling of guilt washing over her. “Why am I feeling guilty for hurting someone that was trying to murder me?” Instincts riddled her core before running to him, her hair whipping wildly as it twirled and danced with the hot air. It was harder to breathe, each breath turning into a deeper wheeze. Without hesitation, her hand gripped tightly and firmly onto his wrist, dragging him away from the hallway and into the stairway before the smoke would get too unbearable.

“Please, I’m begging you!” She breathed out the words, gulping each breath of air she could get as she searched through his bandaged face, getting a good look at it for the first time since their meeting. “I’m sorry for before, I’m sorry for all of the trouble I caused you, but I think… No.” She corrected herself. “I am more than okay with you ending my life.” With courage and determination, she laid her hand on top of his that equipped the scythe, attempting to edge it close to her. Rachel's lungs ached as the smoke clogged them, but the more time she spent away from the smoke the more she felt herself regaining strength.

“I’ll know the truth if you kill me, and… that’s alright.”

 

[Ryax]

Isac was well aware of that the sound and heat from his little show would let someone fairly close by know that there was someone. He'd figured that if it was the little rabbit that ran away, that she'd keep running and he'd be none the wiser she was ever there. Imagine his truthful surprise when she came bolting through the door he was planning on leaving, towards him nonetheless. The surprise when she even clasped his wrist and determinedly pulled him away from the thick smoke and intensely radiating heat that was billowing out of the cracks between the wall and the door behind him. All he felt like mustering at the moment was a single, trailing 'Uhh' as she led him away from his own calamity. He was practically staring at her, a dazed and confused expression cemented across his face, only blinking to clear the tiny particles of soot from his eyes.

Listening to her words, one by one, Isac began feeling something strange and foreign to him, swelling like a tidal wave from within. His face would play it's part in this, his expression turning from a confused one to a frowning one, quickly crossing over to a repulsed and disgusted one. Never had he made the prey of someone that actually wanted to be killed, and that caused a surge of disgust for both himself and the woman to envelop him. The feeling of hate and disgust towards himself from someone else was not there anymore, just a placid acceptance, a desire even.

He finally let her move his hand, but instead he moved it, blade away, to her right side, and shoved her roughly out of his way to his right. "Disgusting", he told her. At this point she was merely blocking his path for he'd lost every lick of interest in her death at this point. He left her there and paced down the stairs to the floor below them from whence she'd came, leaving her to the whims of the fire or starvation to deal with her, because he couldn't stand the sight of her anymore.

"What the fuck was that all about" he murmured to himself, his expression having turned into a mixed sullen and scowling one, his back hunched over slightly as he chose to look more to the floor then anywhere else, only aiming to get far away from her and his feelings. After a small number of rooms, he stopped, took a gander at his recent memories again and visibly shuddered. He closed his eyes, a painful grin splayed across his lips as he shook his head from side to side, dropping his scythe with a loud clang, both his hands went up and rubbed his face and coursed roughly through his hair. "Shit" he murmured before he dropped his hands to his sides and opened his eyes again, looking around him.

Searching for a new target of destruction to clear his mind of disgust, he found nothing, only shoddily painted walls of white. "Fucking stupid Rabbit!" he scowled out loud as he moved to the wall on his right and planted his foot into it with considerable force, a few times, cracking it open like bad construction wood snapped under his assault. He grunted in frustration and stomped the ground once and scowled audibly again before he crossed his arms and squatted down, like an angry child trying to oppose a heavenly decree.

A short moment passed before he leaned himself backwards like he was about to do a roll backwards, but instead of that he just splayed himself out on the floor, facing the plain white ceiling that offered nothing to him in terms of distraction. He growled at himself like that for a while until he closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

 

[Ironic]

It’s working, it’s really working! Rachel cheered inside of her enclosed thoughts as Isac’s hand willingly allowed her guidance. The blade was so close that she could feel the chill from the sharpened tip against her skin, but the blade wasn’t met with her frail body, instead it was his arm that shoved her out of the way. Like an annoying fly buzzing around his face.

He didn’t even give her a chance to respond, to explain why she changed her mind. Wasn’t this what he wanted, after all? To kill her? And now, that she is accepting it with open arms, he’s… declining? That makes no sense! She shouted within herself as she watched him storm away. That was all she could do, gazing at the back that was turned to her. Even she didn’t know what to say in a time like this. She blinked as the drifting feelings left her absent mind, but he was already out of sight.

“Damn.” She bit her lower lip in frustration, curling her hands into tight fists. It doesn’t make sense and the only way to know what was really going on was to ask him. What does she have to lose? Her life? That was exactly what she wanted.

It wasn’t long before her feet continued to glide over the floor, taking her time and in no apparent rush. Isac made his location obvious, blurting out obscenities intertwined with the booming sounds of destruction he was producing.

There he was, lying on the floor like a sprawled-out cat, bathing in the evening sun. His eyes were closed, even when she loomed over him, but the echoes of her footsteps and breathing would giveaway someone was near him. Gingerly she squatted down and sat on the heels of her foot. Her long golden tresses cascaded down over her shoulders, almost long enough to touch the restless boy.

“Look. I don’t understand why you’re acting so mortified now. Isn’t that what you want? Me dead?” Blunt she was regardless of how many times she replayed different phrases in her head to sound… kinder. “Is it not a fair game if the sport comes to you like hunting or something? Please, clarify for me because obviously I am not getting the point.” Distaste coated her tongue as it hit her teeth.

“I know about you, Isac.” Blurting out his name perhaps would trigger a spark in this darkened soul, so she thought. “I want to understand you better, and that won’t happen if you bottle everything up like an irrational animal.” Each word had a bite to it, a sting shortly following afterwards. She was testing his limits, to see what would make him talk or what would push him. Maybe she was stupid.

No, she was stupid.

 

[Ryax]

Isac could clearly hear the footsteps approaching his sprawled out position, but even so he didn't open his eyes one bit for the steps echoed much the same as the girl's. Her voice was cold, hints of confusion and distaste for the whole situation so clear that he could positively imagine the look on her face from her voice alone.

Isac flung his eyes open, staring straight up at her, her face exactly like he'd imagined but obviously up-side-down to him. His facial expression plain at first, quickly turning into an irritated and disgusted one, much like a self-righteous noble looking down on a peasant that had just touched him. A whispered 'Ugh...' escaped his lips.

Another loose piece of the puzzle came rattling down and settling in place when she mentioned his name. She must've been the one that had disturbed and read the papers inside the room. She'd read his file. Every sting she prodded him with after that struck a nerve on each own, sending jolts of increasing irritation through him.

Isac rolled over to his left and quickly got up on his feet. Without even as much as a seconds hesitation, with his left hand he grabbed her by the throat and forced her up on her feet as well. He had a steady grip as he twirled them both around and pressed her against the intact part of the wall he'd been kicking a moment ago. He wasn't pressing hard enough to cut off her blood or air supply, but he was none the less holding her steady against the wall. He kept close watch of her hands so they didn't get the pocket knife she'd stabbed him with before.

"That's right. You don't understand. You don't understand anything. So what if you know my name. Does that give you some sort of entitlement to know all about me?"
Like venom his words seeped dangerously through his lips​

Isac was disgusted by her will to die. Irritated by her nosyness. Defensive about who he was and his past. Angry at her for all those things and more; Still he felt a sort of distant kinship with her, and that pissed him off the most.

"Besides, I don't get you either. One moment you say you want to die, in the next you say that you want to understand me better. Which is it? Actually, don't answer that, I'll decide it for you."
Isac applied more and more pressure on her windpipe with every word, eventually cutting off her supply of air supply all together even before he was done talking​

He needed room to clear his thoughts, room to run away and creep back into the corner of his mind once again so he'd return to what he had come to call normal. Figuring he'd scare her off by engraving the reality of dying into her mind, the fact was that he didn't want to kill her anymore. Not even a little. It was such a sickening feeling for him he didn't know what to do with it.

A few moments before she'd pass out, he'd sorted out many of the feelings that were churning in his mind and the one that came out on top was the feeling of not wanting to kill her. He'd completely lost interest in her death because the motives he usually treasured, that sparked such interest in him, had changed. Isac growled to himself at the situation and finally let go of her throat and moved away, letting her recover. He wasn't planning on sticking around for her to do so however, moving to pick up his scythe with his left hand and wandering away from the scene, not looking back.

"That's what dying's like. Now fuck off and go find something else to do; I've lost interest in you"
Anger and defeat vibrating along his words​

Isac moved to get out of there, to put distance between him and her again. He wasn't moving particularly fast so she'd be able to catch up to him if she chose to, or even follow him without difficulty.

 

[Ironic]

Rachel could hear the shallow in-and-out of his breathing through his nasal passages, the soft rise-and-fall of his chest seemingly peaceful, as she crouched over him in observation. As if the suspension was intensifying, once he flicked his eyelids open, she couldn’t help but jolt back in surprise before securing her eyes onto the rolling body. His shadow hovered over her, blocking the light from the ceiling to fill her hues with his face. The sturdy grip of his hand enclosed around her neck, causing her to wince in confusion before her feet would soon be dangling. Coldness struck her core as the back of the wall nibbled at her back, causing her body to shiver.

Isac’s breath was hot as he spat his own opinions in her face. She listened carefully and attentively, unflinching as his grip tightened with his ever-growing rage. Her eyes were vacant, no sign of fright, but she couldn’t help but feel sympathetic towards the mass murderer. Those petite hands of hers laid limp, insensible to being freed from the confines of his clutch. It was difficult to swallow, to inhale, and most importantly stay awake.

Concentrating on his face, she tried her hardest to keep the darkened fog that was filling in her eyes at bay. Everything around Isac was turning black, his face twisted with distaste and annoyance. “I’m sorry… you have to kill… someone as… boring… as…. Me….” Her voice cracked the words out, mostly mouthing them as the stiffened grip extinguished her ability to vocalize. There was a speck left of Isac in her vision, her pupils dilating as her lungs cried for oxygen. Her head felt bloated, like a balloon with too much helium in it, ready to pop. The hotness from her cheeks would radiated a bright pink tone as the blood flow was cut off.

Before everything turned as black as night, a picture sprouted in her slightly conscious mind; A family portrait. It was her mom, and her dad! They were all smiling, but Rachel was the only one with eyes opened. Focusing furthermore on the image, details of blood scattered messily on the photo appeared. Her parents were dead, nothing but a corpse with trailing blood leaving their sealed lips. Finally, after all this time, she saw a hint of her parents, even though it wasn’t what she quite wanted to see. Before finally closing her eyes, tears welled up inside those dazzling orbs, her muscles relaxing before turning limp, her lids growing heavy enough to close on their own. Upon shutting, her tears flowed down her burning cheeks.

Dropping to the ground, she laid limp, nothing but darkness succumbing her mind. She didn’t think, didn’t dream, but embraced what was supposed to be her death. It felt like forever, eternities had passed, but only several minutes ticked by before her dazed and muddled eyes opened to display the same room as before. Hmph…She exhaled the grumbled noise from her flared nostrils before stretching the limpness away from her muscles. Her fingertips skated against her neck, remnants of this indentations of his grip played as a reminder of her sudden spark with death.

“I almost knew the answer.” She puffed out before stroking her hands into her locks of contorted hair. Sitting up, the room began to spin as stars sparkles in her eyes. Getting up too quickly was a result, and to adjust she sat there in solitude for over five minutes, recollecting her thoughts and what to do next. It would be best to give Isac a rest, as she could vividly remember the frustration bulging from his bandaged expression. This didn’t mean she would give up, but instead let him think about his actions.

“If I help you get out of here, will you promise to kill me? Find me after you thought it out.” She shouted out in the open, loud enough to be heard a few rooms down. Just how loud she was surprised her after her throat was bound by fearsome hands. It wasn’t expected to receive anything in return as a response, but wanted to leave the thought floating in the air. A break from him seeing her was the best option, as he didn’t stay around for her to awaken. “I don’t understand myself either…” Muttering the reply to what he said earlier loitered inside of her cranium, before taking a courageous step out into another room.

​

Floor C4 read above the new level Rachel managed to stumble upon. “It’s kind of cold in here…” She muffled out before clutching onto her arms to keep them warm. She was getting somewhere, at least it went up in the alphabet instead of down. The smells of soil filled her nostrils as she looked at the glassed door. It appeared to be a very large green house, but it was too cold to inhibit anything plant-like. Carefully she clutched the doorknob before feeling the sharpness of how frigid it was, but she didn’t pull away, instead, she turned it to the right to hear it unlock, springing open.

“These are graves, that explains the smell of soil and why it’s so cold.” A field of tombstones painted out in coordinated rows before her. Some of the graves sites looked freshly dug, while the others were patched with growing grass. The soil crunched underneath her feet as she gingerly walked the scenery, inspecting each headstone carefully before moving onto the next row. “Graves… why does this place need so many graves, anyways?” She thought about the answer as she continued her stroll.

There was a tombstone, in the distance, appeared to be fresh. Upon getting closer to inspect it, the bold font grew more legible, until it read loud and clear to her.

Rachel Gardner.

“It’s mine?” Her head cocked to the side before kneeling to gingerly touch the hardened stone. It was smooth and nicely put together, but it had a sick sadistic twist to it. Engraved was her birth date, with the death date unknown except for the current year. She shook her head and rose back up to her feet. There was one under construction right beside her grave, and she could only guess it was Isac’s

There was a small shed towards the end of the greenhouse graves, perhaps there were clues in there. She didn’t bother to think if anyone was in here, or in the shed, but regardless she pried the door open to be met with shovels, gloves, gravestone schematics. The works. It was a decent sized shed, but still didn’t give her much clues. Inspecting the schematics of the headstones, a scribbled note laid in the far corner of the table, neatly folded and recently written. Picking it up, her eyes darted over the printed words, uncaring to this person’s privacy.

“I’ve always had my eye on her, I want to see her, but that guy keeps getting in the way! She has such a lovely voice, so she must be a lovely girl. I’m sure she is! That’s why I fell in love with her at first sight! Oh, these aren’t good enough… I must make something special just for her! I’ll be dreaming of her eternal resting place.”​

Blinking absent mindedly, she sat down the paper and scooted it away far from her. She wondered who this person was talking about. More of the documents from the room Isac burnt down sprawled out on the table. It made more sense, seeing the papers here, but it still caused her head to hurt from unknowing. The dim lights in the greenhouse flickered before shutting off, causing Rachel to quickly exit the shed and close it in attempt to show no one had been in there.

“Grave Delinquent.” A low male voice echoed around the entire greenhouse, unable to categorize which direction it was coming from. Rachel whipped around to see the lights flickered back on, this time a male standing 20 feet away from her, shovel in hand.

His eyes glinted as he saw her for the first time, mouth gaping open in disbelief. “I’ve always been making graves for people that others killed, and that can get quite boring…” He began to explain to her as he twirled his shovel around into the soil. “Even if I do like building graves, I don’t quite like the ones who go into them that others have killed.” This time, he was starting to walk in front of her, but she kept her posture and didn’t move. “I know a lot about you. You want to die, don’t you?” He smiled as he finally got a reaction from her as her eyes widened.

“Yes… you’re the girl that I fell in love with.” He gave away that the papers left in the shed was about her, a person she had never met before… “I can fulfil that wish for you, so… just say ‘yes’ and I will.” Rachel was motionless as his body was close to hers, his head radiating onto her exposed skin.

“There’s no need to look so shocked. It’s nice to finally meet you, Rachel. I’m Eddie.” Casually he stuck his hand out, not waiting for her own, to shake it whole heartedly. A joyous expression played on his lips. “There’s no need to run, I’m not like the others, I won’t snap and kill you suddenly.” That same smile never left his face as he talked about something so deep, taking a deep breath before continuing. “It’s alright, I know of your wishes. I know everything about you… Your mother, your father… And everyone around you. I know all of them.”

“Everything?” Rachel questioned, her eyes fixated on the new figure, almost in a trance.

‘Yup! That’s right! And so, since I already know everything about you, I’m able to kill you with a light heart. I’ll make sure you use the grave I built for you.” He reassured her before gently caressing her cheek. His hand was warm despite his cold words, and it soothed her as she swayed in the trance of his promises of her demise.

“I…” She stuttered, unable to word out what she wanted.

“Hey, Rachel, why are you hesitating? Those desires of yours, let me hear them!” His hands opened outwards to accept everything she had to say, her eyes adverting to her feet before looking back into his yellow hues to answer his inquire.

“….I wish to die.”

“Aha! I knew it!” He exclaimed before speaking furthermore, “I’ll help you fulfill that wish, so, just say yes….” More silence played on her part, to which he impatiently tapped his toe before crossing his arms. “I’m getting impatient! Hey… could it be… because of him?” An image of Isac painted into her mind when he mentioned someone else. She did announce to help him get out as long as he would kill her, even though it wasn’t set in stone or not.

“Oh, indeed it is!” He took her silence as the answer. “I knew something was weird. If that guy weren’t around anymore, would you immediately say yes? Did he threaten you? Or is he holding onto some weakness of yours? What’s stopping you?” Eddie began to interrogate her, each question booming with irritation, but he kept his full rage at bay. “After all, I could kill you too.”

“But in that case, he wouldn’t be able to get out of the building if I said yes.” She answered in a monotone voice.

“Why get out? There’s nothing wrong with this place!” His happiness about this maze caused his eyes to glisten again, his arms gripping at her shoulders in excitement. “To be killed by him, or be killed by me?” His right hand gripped at a fallen strand of her hair before tucking it behind her ear gingerly, his lips pursing up into a sweet smile.

“I’ll put you to sleep, in the most beautiful way possible…”
​

 

[Ryax]

He didn't quite know it then, but the words she uttered with her escaping breath impacted him deeply, jostling the shadows of locked away feelings within him.

Isac, disgusted and confused with himself, wandered down the rooms, one by one. He didn't usually lie. So when his own body expelled the lie of having lost interest in the girl, he immediately felt repulsed by himself. It was in fact the direct opposite. His interest for her only kept growing. Somehow she wanting to die sparked something deep within him that had been laying trapped and captured, undisturbed for so many years.

Even though the echo of her words were faint, he could still hear the contents of it. Stopping, staring limply at the ground, struggling with the conflicting emotions within himself for a good long while. Triumphant a profound sense of sadness and irritation took precedence within him.

"... Don't throw your life away like that ..."
his lips muttering involuntarily to himself

"Fuck"
the words sharply throughout the room as he came to accept her terms within himself​

Isac set off after her, albeit at a leisurely pace for he'd not encountered anyone else in this vast void-of-intelligent-life maze and he figured he'd have plenty of time. Predatory instincts being useful here, almost the slightest hint of passing would tip him off of her heading. A door slightly, or even fully, ajar; a creaking sound from a wooden floorboard somewhere above him, disturbed air and objects. Any number of things would help him track her potential position but as it had been enough of a while since they parted ways, she'd gotten a decent head start on him.

Eventually Isac found his way to a stairwell, cold air pouring down on him and he could already feel a slight shudder course through his body as he'd gotten rather used to the just-right temperature of the maze so far. Figuring a door must have been opened somewhere above him, he followed the trail of cold air until he could no longer, but instead witnessed a glassed door, opened to its full extent. Creeping closer it became clear that this was the source of the cold, she must have gone through here. The nostalgic smell of dirt ran through his nostrils pleasantly, Isac taking a deep breath of it. The closer he got, the more the image of a graveyard cemented inside of his mind. They hadn't encountered a room like this before, so it took him by cautious surprise.

Wandering slowly into the vast space, a field of neatly spaced tombstones poked up through the ground. Some of their mounds had more recently been disturbed, but most of them had already been covered by a frosty, lush green grass. It didn't take long for him to spot what really stood out in this scene, a pair of people standing in close proximity with each other. Upon further moments of inspection, one was clearly the girl he was after. The other a completely unknown-to-him male, dressed in what looks like gardener's clothes, clearly the tender of this field of the dead. The girls, by all means, looked dazed, clearly still under effect by what she was going through. The contact between them looked entirely one sided for now, her arms limply hanging at her sides while the other had his hands on her shoulders, even being brazen enough to touch her face. Nothing of this sat right with Isac, especially not after having come to accept her terms.

Walking towards them with determination, each grave Isac passed he gave a love tap with his scythe, sending a low vibrating sound pulsating through the air with each blow, announcing his presence clearly.

"Hey, little Rabbit!"
Isac announced with a shout across the field

"I accept your terms, so get me the hell out of here!"
a demanding scowl if there ever was one​

Isac steadily yet slowly closed the distance between all of them, continuing to bash the tombstones along the way.

"I don't know who you are. Quite frankly I don't even care. She's already been taken. By me."
Isac venomously sent the words flying towards the man clasping the girl​

Isac's expression was not one of excitement or glee. Instead it was calm and collected, determined. He'd never had a reson to compete for any of his prey before, so the sensation was new to him, but he'd be showing a different type of expression were it only about that. They had struck a deal together, and she had somehow grown on him despite their limited but intense interactions, so he wasn't about to placidly let her be stolen away by someone else. As their agreement stated she was going to help him find a way out of this strange place, and then he would take her life. Such was their deal. She was his' prize, not that other punk's.

Isac's steps grew close and closer. Anger beginning to grow rampant once more. His gaze prepped with poison and fixed on his new target.

"Now get your fucking hands off her"​

 

[Ironic]

“My beloved Rachel, if you will just take my hand, I will promise that you won’t feel a thing.” Eddie stepped back and extended his hand out to her, waiting kindly for her to accept his offer. He grinned from ear-to-ear, his pearly whites glowing from glee. He looked sincere, and he was nice about it, knowing that he meant well. Rachel softly perked her lips upwards into a faint smile before her right hand slowly lingered to go towards his own.

“Hey, little Rabbit!” The all too familiar tune played in her ears before quickly peering over Eddie’s shoulder to see Isac on the other side. She couldn’t help but let out a gasp before involuntarily smirking at his presence. It took him long enough to figure out his answer, but he did so fashionably late.

“You’re noisy, I’m talking to Rachel here, you know.” Eddie churned his head to glance at Isac before giving him a bothersome expression. Rachel was caught in the middle, unknowing what to do or how to handle the situation. Instead, she took a step back and watched their own reactions regarding their meeting.

“…Shut it moron, I don’t care about you. I’m only after Rachel.” Eddie responded as he warned him to get away from her. He turned around to return his gaze back to Rachel, his smile coming back after his heated moment. “Rachel, I’ll create the most beautiful casket for you… and seal you within for all eternity.” Rachel took a step back from him, eyes still fixed on his own, but regardless of moving away he closed the space.

“Ever since a long time ago, the graveyard has been my backyard.” Taking her added silence as further answers, he decided it would be best to explain himself. “My family has for many generationa… been cemetery caretakers. Be it maintaining the graves, digging out new ones, or planting flowers to beautify the place, every day, our work was in the cemetery.” He looked down, smiling as he remembered his own memories. “I was the third oldest of four, I was the only one who always helped my dad with his work, and got better at it than anyone else. Everything I got were ‘hand-me-downs,’ which were then passed on to my little brother.” He frowned before continuing. “This job was no different, in the end, the eldest would be the one to inherit the family business, regardless of how hard I worked.”

Rachel wanted to say something, but he placed a finger in the air to silence her, smiling, before speaking furthermore.

“Every day, every night, I worked harder than anyone else. My skills were the best of them all. But regardless of how hard I worked, it still wouldn’t amount to anything. In my life, there was something else I liked just as much as my work, and those were the little pets we kept at home.” The thought of his pets made him chuckle. “These living animals didn’t belong to anyone, they belonged to everyone. And since they didn’t belong to anyone, they couldn’t end up as hand-me-downs. Except for that one moment…” Clasping his hands together, he shuddered in euphoria. “My favorite moment was the moment they died, because for once, they could enter the grave of my own making! And the moment they entered my grave…. They would become ‘mine’!” He exclaimed, laughing sadistically at his own theory.

“That’s why, since I like you so much, I’ll put you to rest in a grave of my own making, and make you mine forever.”​

 

[Ryax]

Closing the distance, bit by bit, like a reaper's shadow, Isac's scythe ultimately loomed over all three of the beings present. The man however, never seemed to shut up. While Isac was a man of few words, this guys seemed to be one of many. Isac was dumbfounded by the way that he bragged about his hows and whys. The euphoric shuddering he understood all too well however. That's why he knew there was only one way out of this situation if they didn't want to be haunted by a wordy shadow for the foreseeable future.

Isac yawned loudly, stretching himself out, a little like a cat that had just woken up.

"Well you clearly have the best weapon between us here, you are so boooring you almost put me in a coma"
A joyous grin, words mocking, Isac yawned loudly again

"I get it. You want her as your plaything for your little ceremonial wank-off. But I already told you. She's mine"
he said in a most territorial manner, words ablaze with warning signs


~~~~~~~~~~​

Isac shared the sensation of truly claiming something for himself, with Eddie. They had both been bereft of ever truly owning something. Nothing had been safe. Nothing had truly been theirs. Until they learned how to claim it for themselves. Their way had turned out be by blood, reaping souls for themselves. They were in control of this. And they wouldn't be particularly happy with losing this control, because then again they would end up with nothing.

With the appearance of Rachel, Isac had claimed something entirely different for the first time, a life instead of a death. This new bond weighed stronger than the previous type, both because it was unexplored, exciting territory and because it was finally a connection, albeit a twisted one, between him and someone else. And he would fight for that.

~~~~~~~~~~​

Isac lunged, methodically moving to swing his scythe right at his target, aiming to pierce the man's abdomen and split his spine in two if fortune favored it. Turns out fortune did not. The man nimbly dodged away from his reaping. Irritated by this outcome, Isac tried again. He missed again. Isac rather quickly boiling over in rage at this turnout, began swinging harder, less methodically and more brutally, crashing his scythe into tombstones all along his path, denting them, breaking them, crumbling them, even shattering some older ones.

"Stand still, you little shit!"
he growled, another swing and a miss​

Isac suddenly changed the way he was swinging; Instead of aiming directly at Eddie he aimed to lob dirt and gravel at him. Isac showered Eddie with a barrage of tiny projectiles, forcing him to shield his eyes against it or he'd have been crippled in sight.

Isac took the opportunity and flourished his scythe behind him, twisted and turned, two long steps towards Eddie as he swung his scythe along the ground and upwards, the blunt end first, clocking him in the jaw. Some of the force had been dulled by Eddie's arms blocking all the flying gravel, but it was enough to send him sprawling away across the ground a few feet away. He was just laying there after that, seemingly unconscious, and that was enough for Isac because he didn't particularly enjoy killing his peers. After all, they had a fucked-up bond too and the thrill and excitement wasn't there the same way as when he had hunted Rachel before.

Satisfied with this for now, Isac turned and headed to Rachel, his scythe once again resting leisurely on his shoulder, his free hand in his jacket pocket.

"Now, get me out of here, you said you would, right?"
Isac's words were light, maybe even friendly but demanding even so, the hints of a smile stretching across his bandages​

 

[Ironic]

In the corner of Rachel’s eyes, she could see Isaac tiptoeing towards them, but she adverted her eyes to only lock on Eddie’s, subsiding the obvious approach and make him unaware of being stalked. When the moment was right, she stepped aside and allowed Isaac the honor to have the spotlight. Sure, she could fight her own battles, she never asked for his assistance or help, but it meant a lot to her to know that he wanted to help. Be it be out of his own selfishness to get out of this place or if he legitimately had pure concern for it, it didn’t matter, because he was on her side for once.

Nodding in approval she smiled slightly towards his direction, almost enjoying the sudden change in features of Eddie’s once euphoric expression. He appeared nervous and clumsy, losing grip of his shovel in surprise.

“But you didn’t create her a beautiful grave to eternally rest in, did you?” Eddie antagonized him before lifting a threatening brow of true facts. “I don’t think you understand what I am saying. She’s. Mine.” His teeth clenched down tightly, his jaw straightening out as his neck muscles strained. “MINE. Got it?” He emphasized his point before dodging the unsuspecting blow of Isaac’s scythe. It brought him satisfaction to see him so worked up, each swing growing more viscous and anger-fueled.

“What’s the matter, Zack? I thought you knew what you were doing!” He jeered with a hiss, lunging his own shovel at him, occasionally clanking the two weapons together to create an eerie noise. Rachel stood far away, evading occasional debris flinging at her face. As time played on, the battle grew intense. It would be a lie if she wasn’t worried for Isaac’s safety, but had a hidden trust in him that she kept hidden within her.

“Piss off, you talking piece of shit paper!” Eddie grunted the words out as he swung his shovel chaotically towards his direction before getting a nasty taste of dirt and gravel. Immediately he spat the remnants from his lips towards the ground, frantically attempting to rid of the dirt clogging into his eyes.

WHAM!
​

Rachel couldn’t stand to see Eddie receiving such a shattering blow, covering her eyes to limit her sight on the impact of his jaw. The sound of his pained yelp couldn’t be muffled, accompanied by a large thud to emphasize his collapse in defeat.

No matter what, it was going to be difficult to understand Isaac and his ways, but that heart-warming smile caused her own smile to appear, mimicking his. He has a nice smile… She thought to herself as they stood close in proximity to each other, but she wouldn't dare tell him.

“…Then I’ll do my best so that I can make myself useful to you.” Supporting her promise ,she would assure him. “And, just like you swore, once we get out of here, kill me.” Simple and straight to the point she left her desire before leading the way out the greenhouse. Before exiting, her head twirled around to give an apologetic look at Eddie, then left with her own personal killer.

After closing the door, the air shifted from frigid to cool, but at least it was bearable. “So, this is level C. I haven’t travelled too much around this level, and it makes sense that this is just a Cemetery level, hence the letter C.” She thought aloud. “Perhaps the upstairs is level D? If not, maybe it starts with the letter of its main purpose? For instance, the room you burnt was level B, and that could stand for Bookmark, hence the files and keeping track of individuals like a bookmark would do to the pages of a read book.” Click her heels she would turn around to face him, wondering if any of the gibberish she was spilling out made any sense to him.

She continued to walk along the hallway in search for the staircase, giving her time to think to herself for a moments time. It was crazy, to think about how far they’ve come to get sort of close together. Well, she wouldn’t necessarily say close, but enough to not get hunted like a crazed beast.

 

[Ryax]

"You better~♪"
agreeing with her, Isac pretty much sang his words out, his smile beaming towards her

"Don't you worry little Rabbit, I'll hold my end of the bargain~♪"
his words coy as he pointed his fingers like a gun at her head with a careless smile​

Isac followed Rachel around for now, curious to see where she'd take him. Glad for them to be returning to warmer air. He was feeling a light hearted and fun mood. Despite the combat circumstance, he still enjoyed the thrill of a fight and it's effects were lingering.

He hadn't thought much of the meaning behind the floor names, but he figured her reason was correct. Stopping in front of her, he shrugged his shoulders, fiddling with his scythe behind his back and making a thoughtless expression.

"Hell if I know, I guess it sounds reasonable"
his voice thoughtless and distant for a while before he continued his loose train of thought

"If we're climbing up along the alphabet... I wonder if E means Entertainment!"
instantly getting excited over the prospect even though it was less then likely they'd stumble upon a veritable amusement park somewhere in the complex

"Come on, let's go! I wanna do something fun! Let's find that E floor right away!"
words filled to the brim with excitement as he ducked under Rachel and picked her up by her waist and placed her straddling him on his shoulders​

Isac pointed his scythe forward as he walked with determined steps along the path of his scythe.

"Steer us, Navigator!"
shouting his words, a grin splayed across his lips​

 

[Ironic]

Rachel wasn’t used to seeing Isaac so… rambunctious. His eagerness took her by surprise, and she gave him a half smile to see his change of heart; Unless he was putting up a front. Either way, it was pleasant to see that gentle smile of his display. “You better hold you bargain.” Taking her elbow she would ram it into his side playfully.

“I don’t think it works like th-“ The sentence couldn’t even be finished when he grabbed her out of excitement, her body seemingly weighing little to nothing as he dropped her overtop of his shoulders. Quickly she grabbed onto his head for support as she felt her body wobble around from being unbalanced. “Woah, what has gotten into you?!” She questioned his sanity before they took off towards a new direction.

Using her best judgement, Rachel would guide the two towards the staircase, counting to herself as each level was reached. “D… Just one more up.” Her hand quickly darted out to point further up the stairs, Isaac obeying her command and jolting up them with lengthy steps due to his long legs. Her body jumped with each step he took, feeling as if she was riding a feral stallion. “Woah, I feel very unsteady on your shoulders! Stop for a minute so I can slide down.” With his approval or not, she unloosed her left leg to straddle his waist securely before dragging the right one to coil around the opposite side. She wasn’t as tall as before in this position, but it felt safer and she heaved out a sigh of relief.

The bumpy ride sustained for not but a few moments until the letter ‘E’ printed on top of the doorway. Upon entering the new level, a steel barred wall separated one side from the other. On the other side it appeared to be a longer hallway with doors scattered on each side, and what was behind those doors was unknown. Rachel wiggled free from Isaac’s back, her feet planting firmly on the ground with a snap of her shoes. “It’s locked.” She simply put it before her hand rattled the barred door, not budging or attempting to open at her command.

“Congratulations, you qualify!” A booming female voice echoed in the room, but no one was to be seen.​

“What was that?!” Rachel questioned, her head whipping around from side-to-side to see where the noise was coming from. Gazing up at the ceiling, speakers were fixated in the corners of the room.

“Both of you took soooo long to get here… I even dozed off for a while!” The woman cheerily spoke before clearing her throat for further talk. “But to make it this far, what an accomplishment! Especially you… Issac!” His name snaked out of her mouth into a hiss, the word seeping with unknown intentions. “I knew from the beginning you’d become the most wonderful of sinners! I was feeling drowsy, but now you’re here, I’m completely revitalized!”

“Let us through!” Rachel interrupted the speakers, silence breaking the air before a small crackle could be heard from the mystery woman’s lips.

“Oh, alright! You do qualify, after all.” Warily the door unlocked, the steel lock snapping back into the door before it opened with an eerie creek. “I am the Condemner, oh, sinful scoundrels. Before their sins are forgiven, they must be punished, and I am the one who has been allowed to bestow that punishment onto them!”

“Sinners…” Rachel repeated her label that was given to her, not enjoying the taste as it left her mouth. “Why should we have to go through punishment. We didn’t do anything.” Her inquire sparked an interesting reply.

“There are many ways to punish a sinner, don’t you think? Those sinners do not like to admit their corrupt acts, but I keep tabs on all of that.” Softly she chuckled through the speakers, her laugh more maddening than her voice. “How does eternal imprisonment sound to you?” The Condemner asked as the duo stepped inside of the gates, the door shutting behind them and relocked. “Or, you could continue on left, where more painful punishments await you.” Oddly she seemed animated when the word ‘painful’ was mentioned. “But, you can spend your days thinking over all the sins you’ve committed. Just beyond the bards before you, like a lovely new life! Rotting away in a cell… Doesn’t that sound appealing?!”

“A lifetime in jail, meaning that death would come slowly…?” Rachel thought over what was meant behind her silly words before deciding for them like before. “We’re going left.”

Upon the door opening, the first punishment room was displayed before them. Dummies in chairs, lined up perfectly to leave a pathway towards a chair in the middle. There was nowhere to go from here, but there was another barred door that led to another door. “I’m assuming we have to pass through this room to get to the other room.” Rachel suggested with a shrug of her shoulders. “I hope this is what you were aiming for when the thought of entertainment crossed your mind.” Sarcastically she huffed out, feeling drained from the recent events.

“I’m afraid you’re stuck here; all of the doors are locked. It’s up to you to figure out how to crack this code.” The voice boomed yet again, a smile having to play on the woman’s lips with how cherry she broke the news to them.

“Even though this room looks like it’s hiding something, everything is fixed in place. Nothing can be changed. I don’t see any hints either.”

 

[Ryax]

"Whatever do you mean has gotten into me!? It's obviously time to have some fun in this shit hole!"
Isac exclaimed in response to her query into his sanity​

Rachel didn't weigh much, so it was easy for Isac to carry her around, even up several flights of stairs. He followed suit with her guidance, kicking up doors and marching through hallways. If one was perceptive enough, they'd be able to see that Isac goal was ultimately composed of two things. He was feeling somewhat elated after having fought and won against Eddie, but he was also trying to cheer Rachel up for a spell. The poor girl was obviously not in her best frame of mind, pretty much only faced with terror, whispers of death and sights of destruction so far.

"Okie dokie~♪"
Isac slowed down and stopped, letting her do her thing until it ended up a bit awkward and clumsy

"Uhh.. Ok. Hmm. Fine. Here, hold my scythe"
he handed over his scythe with one hand, the other already placed on the underside of her thigh to help her keep steady in her new positioning, his other hand followed shortly thereafter to help secure her on his back

"There! Much better~♪"
voicing his words with warmth and a small smile to follow suit before he sped off again


~~~~~~~~~~


"Finally!"
Isac exclaimed, with the impatience of a child waiting for something to happen, when the eventually arrived at floor E​

He crouched, releasing his supportive hold of her and let Rachel slide down from his back. His breathing was light and his muscles slightly sore after the long piggy-back-ride. Isac kicked the steel barred door rather dispassionately after Rachel had rattled it and then he scoffed at it when it didn't open. The booming voice ringing out thereafter certainly startled Isac. He looked around to locate something, anything that would explain the timing and help propagate the voice. It didn't take long for him to locate the speakers in the corner of the room.

The voice calling out his name didn't take him by surprise this time, and he coyly stood his ground, rather relaxed and made a grimace towards the speakers. While he was busy grimacing and ignoring the contents of the woman's words, Rachel spoke for the both of them on queue, the lock promptly snapping open shortly after.

Isac let a short 'Hah!' escape his lips when Rachel blurted out that they hadn't done anything. Isac knew fully well what he'd done. What did end up catching his attention was why Rachel was also called a sinner, and that sparked a deeper interest within him to find out what she had been up to for her to be placed in here with people like him and Eddie. He looked down on her with seeking eyes, but only for a moment. Time would tell him of her sins, he was sure of this.

Isac did not find the voice of the woman to be appealing at all. Though even if she was like him in a way, taking joy in others suffering, he felt a deep relentless distaste for her. Her games were already to intricate for his liking, not to mention that she punished anyone she saw fit like a self proclaimed Judge.

'You really must have something dark inside of you to seek punishment so vigorously'
Isac thought to himself, about Rachel, as he wandered after her into the room on the left

"Not even close. I don't see the teacups..."
he muttered his response lowly, clearly having expected an amusement park, against his better knowing​

Seeing the dummies rowed up, all staring at the center stage, made it painfully clear to Isac what this was all about. He felt rather dejected about the whole thing, but in the end he knew he had to subject himself to one of maybe many things in order to get them out of here with their lives in tow, if even that.

"Well, little Rabbit, you sure are innocent. I don't know why you're in here, but you must be hiding something juicy and I really want to know it"
he told her with heavy sigh and a dejected smile before he casually walked up to the central chair

'IF we get out of here'
he thought to himself, always knowing that he was on expensively borrowed time​

He walked up the steps, slowly, one by one, standing in front of it for a while, pretty much spacing out before he finally turned around and sat down, his ankles close to the legs of the massive chair, his arms rested on the handles. Quickly, the metal clasps swung around and locked his ankles and wrists to the chair with a few loud clangs and some locking sounds. Isac couldn't help but to be really scared. He knew pain, intimately, but it wasn't usually encompassed with this powerlessness on his end.

 

[Ironic]

“Hang on Isaac, I’ll try to do something!” Rachel hollered once the restraints clicked in place, securing him in the chair without his consent. With quickened steps she stood by his side and attempted to pry away the locks on his wrist, but it was senseless to try and rip off steal.

“Greetings!” A screen crackled up above the chair Isaac was captured in, the image distorted at first but portrayed the woman that had been speaking to them. She was beautiful, her wavy locks an unusual hue. Those eyes portrayed a morbid satisfaction with her sinners, gleaming with a sadistic hunger. “My apologies that I can’t be there in person! I am the Condemner of this floor, Cathy! Imprint that deeply into your minds, will you?” She winked at the camera before cracking the whip onto her left palm.

“Now, my sinful duo, how have you been faring?” She leaned forward as she inspected something on her screen, more than likely the room they were in, until a light gasp escaped her rosy lips. “Oh, my! I can’t believe you actually sat in that chair, Zack!” Cathy covered her mouth as she let out a few wholehearted laughs, eyes closing from the intensity of them.

“Get him out of it!” Rachel demanded as she glared at the screen. Cathy sat down on a nearby chair, an uncanny creak sounding off as her weight caused it to move slightly backwards.

“What are you saying? I’m afraid that’s not happening!” Shaking he head, she shook her index finger in front of the camera, as if letting a dog know it disobeyed its master. “What kind of executioner sets their convict free?” She raised an eyebrow before her lips quirked upwards in a smirk. “Oh, Zack, especially when it’s a monster like you, how well can you withstand my punishment, I wonder?” Leaning forwards, her fingers skated on something underneath the screen; a button clicking under her will.

“I feel absolutely giddy at the thought!” The chair crackled as electricity quickly flew into the wires at an alarming speed, a static shock consuming the chair as it raddled his body. The electricity was so fierce that it caused Rachel to fling away from him and land on her backside, horror piercing her widened eyes.

“Oh my, Zack… What ever can be the matter? The reins of your fate lie within my hands!” A wicked laugh left her lips as another wave of shock rattled his core, silence breaking the air afterwards. His harsh breathing from the unnerving treatment left her speechless. “Incredible! You were able to withstand all that!? A wonderful, murderous… monster! The most perfect specimen of a sinner!” Never has Rachel witnessed a woman so pleased to inflict pain on someone.

“You sick twisted bitch, let him go!” She spoke through gritted teeth, knowing that her attempted pleas were of no good use.

"I’ll be leaving this on, so lots of lovely volts will continue to flow throughout your body…. In the meantime, Rachel, it’s up to you to find a way to turn it off! If you do well, who knows? I might een let both of you through."​

“Stop it, you’ll kill him!” Rachel bellowed out at the screen, hands flailing around in protest before they curled into fists besides her sides.

“Oh, my child, being able to witness just how much of a monstrous sinner Zack truly is…. Does that not captivate you one bit?” Cathy folded her arms before sitting back furthermore into her chair. “Besides, what makes you think that sinners have any say in this?” A soft beep rattled the air, the dummies face’s glowing with a false smile and dotted eyes.

“And now! Shall we let the punishment begin?" She clapped her hands, as if that clap alone instigated more surges of voltages to corrupt Isaac’s body. In Cathy’s sick reality, the dummies that had just been given eyes, exact the punishment onto Isaac, but would they be able to figure it out?

Rachel had no time to spare as his cries muffled her ears. If only she could’ve been the one in that chair. She wanted to die, not Isaac. “Maybe the lights on these dummies have something to do with it?” Rachel shouted before grabbing onto one of their heads, attempting to snap it away from gazing at Isaac, or turning off the lights, but it didn’t cause the current to get weaker in the background. It wasn’t even moving due to her chaotic nudges.

“Isaac, lend me your scythe, I need to use it! I’m too weak!” Rachel cried out to him, wondering if he had any control of his body anyways despite being locked in and receiving blow after blow of shocks. His hand still gripped at his weapon of choice, and she needed it to be tossed her way. If she touched it, then she too would get shocked and wouldn’t be able to help him.

“I know it’s hard, but if you could talk a little more, I will know if you’re still alive!”

 

[Ryax]

Panic was building up inside of him. Tugging his wrists and ankles at the steel straps around them, they didn't budge even one bit.

"I'm sorry, is someone speaking? I can't see you because there's a whore in the way"
Isac growled out coolly at the picture above him; At the viewing angle he was offered in this position he could only see outlines of a person​

His instincts were screaming to get away from the chair or there's be hell to pay, but Isac couldn't for he was locked steadily in place. And so the electricity surged through him in the blink of an eye. All of his muscles constricted at once, his body jumping and rattling in the chair. His knuckles whitening around the hilt of his scythe. The pain was excruciating.

It had been more of a very large static shock rather then a continuous flow of electricity, so it was over as quickly as it had begun. He sat still in the chair, his breath ragged and pained. His muscles relaxing as he slumped slightly where he sat. Isac didn't say a word, not even a sound. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

Then the real pain started, as if the previous one hadn't been enough. Shock after intense shock coursed through him, rattling his core, constricting his body and letting it slump, again and again. He could hear her words but not really respond to them with anything but weak crowing. He only had so much focus to give on anything but persisting through the intense pain, hoping that Rachel would find a solution before his heart stopped.

"I'm a little preoccup-upupupup"
Isac crowed out before he was hit with another shock causing him to stutter and eventually groan tiredly at the next pause


Isac wasn't able to toss his scythe to her, but he was able to drop it. The way that he was gripping it at the time caused it to drop down the few steps up to his pedestal and land at a safe distance away from the electric machinery. There was nothing else he could do but trust in her at this point. Time was against them however as Isac was flung closer and closer to the brink of death with every shock. If he'd ever get out of this, his body would have one hell of a hangover.


"Take it... already..."
he crowed out to Rachel once again, his breath having become increasingly labored and rasping​

At least Rachel had a plan to help him; Hopefully she could execute whatever it was she was doing before he ran out of time.

 

[Ironic]

As soon as the scythe collapsed at a safe distance, Rachel bolted to retrieve it before violently withdrawing her hand back in pain. “The handle is burning up!” With fear setting in she quickly looked around to see if anything could be used to act as a barrier between her delicate hands and the hot surface. It didn’t take her long to see a worn-out bandage from Isaac laying on the ground besides the chair. With precision she gripped the loose bandage before wrapping it around the handle. It felt safe to touch after she tested it with one hand, deeming it okay to hold the heavy blade with both of her hands.

“There we go, okay. I’ll do my very best!” Exclaiming the words from the top of her lungs, she scurried towards the dummies, realizing that time was growing short in their favor. “It’s quite heavy. I won’t be able to swing it as easily as Isaac does.” She thought to herself as she attempted to lift it in the air, obviously having trouble lifting it. Another electrifying surge exploded in the room, and that gave her the willpower to do what she had to do to save Isaac.

Heaving up the blade with all her might, she swung it chaotically towards the neck of the dummy, the head ripping off and the once vibrant orange lights glowing as its face dimmed to nothing. The decapitated head rolled onto the floor, the body still sitting upright as if nothing has happened.

“If you were to die, then our bargain cannot happen, and I can’t let that happen!” Rachel reassured him as another spurt of voltage pierced his body. The truth was, she felt something with him. Maybe she felt connected, to finally have someone to walk besides her in this corrupted building, or perhaps she felt safe with him, as if a weight was lifted off from her shoulders. Either way, she knew she had to get him out of this mess.

Darting from row-to-row, she slashed each head like before, the lifeless head rolling like a bowling ball after dropping to the ground. The sound of voltage began to decrease with each head she slayed, and if she kept this up all of the heads would be on the ground. She grew exhausted, her hands trembling from growing weak as she held onto the scythe for a long period of time. Finally, the last dummy was next, and with a fearsome thrash she would cease anymore electricity.

“Isaac, are you okay?!” She ran towards the chair to see his limped body as faint sparks faded from his hoody. No response. “…Isaac?” Leaning inwards, her hand reached to grab at his bowed head until the television rebooted once more.

“Absolutely incredible! Never would I have thought you’d manage to pull through something like that!” Her practically drooling lips perked up into a satisfactory grin. “The amazing resilience of such a murderous monster, it’s that resilience that makes them so alluring! Oh, what an exemplar and perfect specimen you are, Zack, but to be honest, I was really looking forward to be able to witness the moment of your death.” Flipping a lock of hair that traveled over her shoulder back to her backside, she would continue. “But since I’m a nice person, after seeing all of the effort she’s put in, I’ve decided to let the two of you pass onto the next level!”

 

[Ryax]

At this point Isac was literally jolted in and out of consciousness with every shock, like every pause in the pain was a god sent gift to recover and endure the next onslaught. It's quite fortunate that Rachel asked for his scythe the timing that she did or he'd likely still be holding onto it. Tiny streams of vapor rose from Isac's body where his sweat had reacted with the intense electric surges and evaporated. As a result of this the room had slowly begun filling with the scent of cooked flesh. Thankfully for Isac, the marks that this treatment would leave on his skin wouldn't be noticed much since such a large portion of him already had extensive burn scars.

When the electrical surges waned off in power, Isac almost shed tears that he didn't have to endure the torture and death anymore, except they pretty much evaporated instantaneously from the shocking currents still going on. When the electricity finally died off, he slumped down in the chair, his chin leaning down on his chest so that his face could not be seen. She called out for him, but it was too soon to speak, he needed to check whether he was still alive or not. It was pretty clear that he was still alive when such a fierce combination of anger and defensive guilt flared up inside of him when he heard the voice of that vile woman Cathy again. He only spoke once the woman stopped her tirade of bile.

"... Ow ..."
Isac painfully crowed out in a low and raspy voice

"... Took you long enough ... Little Rabbit ..."
he continued after a short existential pause​

The steel clasps had already opened with four consecutive snaps as the woman had spoken, but Isac hadn't been ready to move at that point. But now he was. Slowly bringing his muscles under his control, he raised his head back against the chair's backbone, a chapped, sour scowl on his face as he attempted to get up, very slowly. His clothing and skin crackled, where thread fibers had burnt, sweat had caked salt and his skin had burnt and cracked with remnants of flaky and black shells that witted away as he moved. It took a tremendous amount of effort to regain control of his muscles as the lingering effects subsided, and once he was up and standing, his knees suddenly gave out to another electrical spasm and he used Rachel as a support beam. Both his arms wrapped around her neck, his face pressed in her shoulder as he groaned. He stayed like that for a while, quiet and just resting.

He didn't know when the last time was that he hadn't been immediately repulsed by someone's close proximity, or even touch, when he showed signs of weakness. But this time it wasn't so bad. Eventually Isac ruled it out as some sort of mental shock and once more stood himself up, pain vibrating fully through his body at every slight movement, albeit it was more then manageable, especially when compared to before.

"Guess we have some more fun waiting for us... I almost can't wait until we get to the real fun"
Isac first had a determined stoic expression that eventually became overtook by a wide manic grin, his eyes excited and lively again, with a conscious effort straining his neck and looking up at the monitor as he imagined himself gutting Cathy alive​

He gritted his teeth for a little while, just staring at the monitor until he took a deep breath and finally looked down again, his smile having faded to a determined smiling one. He slowly moved, and crouched, to pick up his scythe where Rachel had left it on the floor. It was still warm to the touch but one could hold onto it now without fear. With shaky steps, using his scythe as a temporary but dangerous crutch, he moved towards the now opened door to the next room.

~~~~~~~~~~​

They arrive in a square shaped pristinely white room if not for the white squares squares with black edges outlining most of the floor in a grid like pattern and the walls are covered with black circles evenly spread out. The only spaces not covered with anything is a couple of feet of floor at the entrance, and at the end where there's a door situated at the opposite corner of where they're standing.

There's cameras in each top corner of the room and a large screen on the other wall. The monitor crackles with life as the door suddenly slams shut and locks behind them.

"Took you long enough. You're not looking too good there Zack, why don't you step on the square to your right?"
she couldn't help herself from deliberately showing a grim anticipation into the camera for them to see

"Get to the point, hag"
Isac crowed at the monitor

"Suit yourself~♪"
she spun, her voice tingling with excitement and glee, not a good sign for the two of them

"So, I wonder what this room might hold. Do you think you can figure it out for me? Just don't be too careless will you, I don't want to see you go so soon, we still have more fun ahead of us. Good luck!~♪"
Cathy chimed joyfully, in the end a sick laughter cut short as the monitor died down again

"... Fucking bitch ..."
Isac voiced angrily, grinding his teeth as he frantically looked at the floor for he was getting ahead of himself and being super eager to get to Cathy

"They're all the same! Fucking shit!"
he growled in anger​

In anger, Isac slammed his foot down on one of the plates towards the exit and it sunk down neatly with the weight of his body and a click could be heard from the hole closest to Isac's leg on the plate where a soft pop followed and a very small green syringe stuck out of his leg as if it had always been there. Isac mumbled with irritation and reached down to grab the syringe and pull it out but it suddenly changed color to red and he stopped.

The monitor flashed on again and Cathy's grinning face once more portrayed itself to them.

"Do you want me to tell you what's happening? Do you? ... Oh I can't hold it in, I simply must tell you!"
Cathy yelled out in glee and jumped up and down

"You see, the syringes are of my own design. I made them so that once they've penetrated skin they'll slowly release a tranquilizer over a few minutes. If you decide to try to take them out, they'll instead discharge their content into you all at once,
and you sure don't want that! Because if you get enough tranquilizers in your body, you'll eventually fall and get hit by even more and then your heart will stop and you'll die! Now now, don't despair too much. Not all the plates are booby trapped, but you need to press down all the non-booby trapped ones to open the door. I wonder if you can figure it out before your hearts' stop~♪"
Cathy was gasping from her own excitement over this trap setup, fanning herself to cool down while sporting a large grin before the monitor shut off once more​

During the speech, Isac had withdrawn his leg but not without feeling a slight numbness where the syringe sat silently, poisoning him slowly but surely. The pressure plate had gone back up when Isac's weight was removed. Isac sat himself down with a sigh, leaning back against the wall and looking out over the sea of pressure plates.

"You do it. You solved the last one, you can solve this one too"
he sighed out his words, almost impatiently as he poked the pressure plates with his scythe.​

Whether she believed so herself or not, Isac had high faith in Rachel. After all, she'd agreed that she'd get him out of here for the price of her death.

As Isac poked away at the pressure plates, if one was perceptible enough they'd be able to notice that some plates were slightly easier to budge then others.​

 

[Ironic]

“I tried to do it as fast as I can, you know.” Rachel grumbled back in response before crossing her arms and pouting her lips. She couldn’t help but heave out a sigh of relief to know he was at least alive, probably not his best, but still thriving. Walking besides him, she made sure to keep a close eye on his posture, ensuring he wouldn’t miss a step or collapse from exhaustion. Luckily, he had bucked over just in time for Rachel to pivot around and catch him, her eyes broadening in disbelief with how heavy he was for being so tall and skinny.

“You’re pretty heavy there, buddy.” Trying to soften out his discomfort, she joked at him. Her hands steadily resided by her legs, unsure if she should wrap them around him in a reassuring hug or to just let him be. His body heat was like lava radiating into her clothing to seep against her skin. Her body ached just thinking about what torment he had endured. As her hands were about to reach up to hug him, he pulled away, and so did she.

“There’s the Isaac I know.” Rachel grinned playfully to see his true colors seeping out, finally getting back to his usual self after their recent scare. They walked together onto the next obstacle, this time intensifying in difficulty, ergo resulting in greater chances for their own demise. Great, just what they needed! Rachel rolled her eyes as Cathy chattered away, not too electrified by her enthusiastic speech. Isaac was growing rather impatient in the meantime, carelessly throwing his foot down on a plate without regret.

“What are you doing, you have to be more care-“ As if on que the syringe popped out on command, impaling his flesh to release its undesirable chemicals inside of his veins. “You have to stop being so careless!” Rachel bit her lower lips in frustration, the striations of her teeth leaving indentations in her lip from the forcefulness of her bite. Her cheeks reddened as bright as the red liquid inside of the syringe, not wanting to see him endure anymore unnecessary pain. “Good choice to leave it up to me, obviously you’ll get us killed.” Snarling like a feral wolf she would quickly jerk her head away from his direction to ponder on which plates to steps on and which to avoid.

As Isaac played around with his scythe on the plates, she noticed that some were easier to press down than others, gaining an idea from watching the patterns. “Perhaps we can use your scythe as a tester before stepping onto the plates? It seems like some are easier to press down than others, and the harder ones might be the good ones.” Instead of requesting for his scythe she would use her foot in its place. Gingerly she took a step forward and placed the tip of her blackened boot on a plate. With little pressure, she noticed it was hard to press down and took that as a sign to step forward. Holding her breath as it sunk down slightly, she waited for something to happen, but noting did.

“So far so good.” She nodded before clenching her hands together in attempt to take another courageous step. There was a plate to her right, and upon pressing it she could tell it was easy, so she moved onto the one on the left. This one was harder to judge as it was easy to push in but also budged for a second. Trusting her gut to trust the left plate more than the right she would firmly step onto it. It sunk down, slowly, but stopped. Nothing happened. “Phew.” She breathed out before wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Rachel adjusted her footing to take another step, but the plate underneath her snapped again, this time sinking lower until a lurid flash of light accompanied with a bang corrupted the room. A sharp pain ripped through her shoulder, and before she realized it blood was seeping out from her new wound. Something hard was lodged inside, perhaps a bullet, as it bulged upwards slightly.

The pain was unbearable, but she dared to not let out a scream, not wanting to give Cathy the satisfaction of her sick fantasy. Instead, she clasped onto her wounded shoulder tightly to stop the overflow of blood. It has seeped in between her fingers, little pitter-patters of blood spots coating the tiled floor. “You’re fine, you’re fine.” The words mumbled out from her mouth but the trembling in her legs told her otherwise. They had to peruse forward, and a little blood here and there wouldn’t stop them, but she would challenge herself to be more cautious than before.

“It’s a hit or miss to tell if they’re actually stable enough or not. I don’t mind walking first to find out, you’ve already been through too much.” It has hard to take another step after what had just happened, but she carried on and tested the plates as before, checking to see if they were easy to push in or not. The right plate barley moved under some added weight while the opposing one quickly wanted to shift, making it easy to tell what was the right one and which would cause further agony. She was right again for this round, but they had a lot more steps to take before reaching the other side, and she was growing tired of being this paranoid.

 

[Ryax]

He grinned lightly at her joke, even though she couldn't see it, clinging to her for support as he slowly regained energy and control of his legs again.

Rachel was surprisingly feisty with him and Isac couldn't help but to grin a little more at that, although still very much concerned about the syringe now sticking out of his leg uncomfortably and ultimately was pouting about their ordeal. Sometimes he'd be unlucky, sometimes he'd be lucky. His intuition like a double edged sword, but from experience he found it generally to be a boon, even if it didn't look like it at the time.

Listening to Rachel's words half-heartedly while running his scythe over the pressure plates, he didn't register what she was saying until after she'd stepped on one of the plates, snapping Isac out of his pouting daze and staring at her with a horrified but hopeful look. He watched her take another careful step, gingerly testing the plates she walked on before moving her weight around.

Jolted by the sudden bang, distaste slipped onto his lips as he saw Rachel get hit in her shoulder. Guess he couldn't leave this all up to her after all; He'd have to do his part as well. He didn't bring much caution to the table when he stepped on the plate she had already tested to be good. It sunk down, but ultimately stopped even with his weight. It was a safe spot, right beside her.

"You alright?"
his voice bared hints of care as he gently placed his hand on her upper arm to the shoulder she'd been struck by the bullet​

He looked at her wound with discomfort, both thinking about his promise and that he didn't want her to die for she'd begun to nestle her way into his heart ever so slowly. With impatience and distaste he looked upon her prodding and taking the next step. Even though it was a successful one, he wasn't happy with her leading the way if it meant she'd die from it.

"Let's take turns with stepping on them. It's probably the only way we'll get past this alive"
his voice did not betray the suppressed anxiety he felt over getting another syringe, or even shot

"So... I should step on the hard ones you said"
he asked her, looking down and prodding his weight on a few plates around him, feeling the difference in resistance from each plate​

Feeling agitated over himself taking too long to be brave and step on one, he shifted his weight onto the one that he felt would buckle the least. He was wrong. Another soft thud as a syringe firmly lodged itself in his left shoulder. An irritated grunt escaped him as he froze up from the impact, irritation spreading throughout his body just like the tranquilizing poison was.

He turned around, grabbed Rachel's hands and pulled her over to the plate he was already standing on. He let her go, turned again and began prodding the plates again.

"It's still my turn, you went twice, I go twice."
determined, he stepped on another plate before turning around in triumph when it went down, but nothing happened, until the monitors suddenly flickered to life again to reveal a jumping, positively ecstatic Cathy

"Ohhh, you've gone and done it now!! Have fun!"
she practically screamed with excitement, perverted pleasure clinging to her voice before the monitor went dead yet again

"She sure knows how to ruin the mood doesn't she"
Isac grinned at Rachel before looking towards the exit

"Your turn"
motioning towards the next set of plates towards the exit​

Little did they know that gas was being released from tiny vents in the ceiling. Gas that would slowly choke them and make them lose consciousness.

Isac swerved his shoulder, trying to combat the increasing numbness to no avail. He was beginning to feel slightly light headed, mostly from the tranquilizer, not so much from the gas just yet.

 

[Ironic]

“But you’ve already been through so much, I don’t want you to have to go through anymore.” Rachel appreciated his kindness in sharing the burden of their fate, but he was already weakened from the electricity, regardless of how hard he tried to not show it. It would be no use, Isaac following his own commands to peruse forward. It was hopeless trying to change his tenacious mind. Keeping quiet she didn’t challenge him furthermore, instead she watched his footing, which was wretchedly all she could do at this point.

What she feared would happen indeed did, an extra pop ringing out into an echo as another syringe found a perfect spot to nestle into his left shoulder. Instinctively she wanted to pry that damned needle out from his skin, but was reminded that the affects would be worse. “Please, you can’t risk receiving anymore of those!” Rachel pleaded, seizing the arm that he used to pull her near him to keep him put, but he was tougher than her and had already stepped on, luckily, an appropriate plate. She wasn't afraid to show concern as it dripped off each word, more worried about Isaac's safety than her own. It was her job to get him out of this alive, so their bargain would be finalized, but if she failed....

It was easier to lighten the mood when you walked away from the face of death, not while gawking directly at it. She ignored his comments as her eyes darted from plate-to-plate, coming up with a sly plan behind his back. With delicate calculations whilst using the tip of her toe, she chose the right one. Successful. Before Isaac would get a chance to attempt his next move, she bolted carelessly on another step, but she was fortunate and earned them a safe spot to step on. Growing cocky in her accurate steps and not wanting Isaac to risk further pain, she pounced onto the right plate, but the all too familiar pop spurted into the silent air.

Peering down at her thigh a new accessory was added to her collection; a syringe to match Isaac. The unaccustomed sensation of fluid rushing inside of her veins left her thigh feeling slightly cool before churning into numbness. Rachel loosened her tensed muscles, unaware of her involuntary immobilization. They were already half way there, victory within arm’s reach. Swallowing her pride, she took another step forward before stumbling backwards before catching her balance. Double-vision clouded her view, observing two rooms instead of one. A vehement shake of her head rid of the illusion, but not the accompanied dizziness.

“Did those injections make you feel… So… Exhausted and… dizzy?” Rachel spoke with a noticeable slur, her petite body gliding back-and-forth, occasionally grazing Isaac’s side by accident.

“How are my sinful monsters fairing?” Cathy’s image never failed to annoy, the woman’s ecstasy-fueled hues peering into the camera. “Ohohohoh ♪…” That resonance would put any Disney character to shame, her bliss igniting like a bomb fire. “I see my hidden ingredient has finally simmered! ♪…” She licked her lips erotically, light strands of saliva coating her gaped mouth. “If you don’t hurry onto the other side, my sinners, you will still meet the same fate!” Just as quickly as she showed up on the screen she left it.

"We can't be her tools, that's just what she wants."​