𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍.

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝑲𝒏𝒐𝒘
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Even if the atmosphere remained as bleak as it has been since you've entered this place, somehow you felt freer, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and off your heart. Often you found yourself checking your right pocket and tracing your hand on the paper of the drawing, making sure it was still there after a particularly tumultuous fight or a heated run. You didn't want to lose it, it had become a prized possession despite your mixed feelings about the one that had given it to you.

It was hard to admit it, even to yourself –especially to yourself–. You wanted to hate the man, after everything that was revealed to you, but then again not everything was black and white and with the few things you knew about Ruben, you couldn't blame him for his actions. It was a bit hypocritical, considering what went down later in your life but why her. It could've been anyone at Beacon, you thought, a selfish phrase encompassing a situation that although tragic, would've made your life less complicated. Would you have stayed in Krimson if you had found her there, the day where you arrived? Would you have reconnected with him if you hadn't spent time lurking in the hallways of Beacon Mental Hospital?. You frowned, deeply, a knot blocking your airways as soon as you tried to put words into the gnawing, fluttering feeling on your chest that grew whenever you thought of being reunited with Ruben once again, or just his presence alone, being close and looking at you with those beautiful eyes like he had done multiple times.

You tried your hardest to convince yourself that he was a sick, sick man, that you had only, unfortunately just grown fond of.

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Another village came into sight, much like the one you had arrived in at the beginning of this ordeal. This one, walled away and antique looking, somehow was way more ominous than the first; instincts kicked in and you crouched down, knuckles white around the grip of your bat.

This caution proved fruitless, however, when the first thing you found upon crossing its gates was the fallen body of a Haunted, two clean gunshot wounds –one in its right leg and the other one on the center of his forehead– were the clear cause of its death. Wondering if Sebastian had been the culprit of this, you straightened up and looked around, listening carefully past the wind and flames for something that could lead you where they were. You thought you heard what reached your ears as faint whispers coming from the main building, so you jogged there and climbed some stairs.

The second floor was dilapidated as this whole place was, and faced with this amount of chaos you wondered if the world was truly ending. There were knocked furniture, traps and supplies laying around, so you thought this particular room had been unexplored so far, and you grabbed the few things you could find before heading out. The upstairs was empty as well, dead Haunted littering the place and adding to the putrefaction of the damp wood beneath your feet. You thought you heard a curse word coming from the downstairs, said by a familiar gruffy voice that calmed you of the sheer nerves of being alone. You jogged down the stairs and effectively, you found Sebastian struggling against a very heavy set man whose head had a gruesome, rotting wound of which the stench of you could smell from even there. You gripped your bat and ran towards it, hitting the enemy's head cleanly with your bat, which earned you a blunt hit that threw you to the opposite wall. Its attention turned to you as it moved towards you with a hand around a sickle like weapon. You aimed your crossbow at it, but before a bolt could pierce its skull, it fell limp and dead with the sound of a gunshot.

From behind his body stepped Sebastian, who extended his hand towards you and helped you to your feet. Your face heated up when his eyes lingered on you just a bit longer than they did before when you wore a Beacon uniform.