I grunted at the feeling of weight on my shoulders. The smell of metal and sweat in the gym was potent, my dense muscles stretching as I extended them from my body, taking the weight with it. I breathed in and out, my eyeballs glued to the descending bar. The barbell dropped again, the reps turning in my mind like the steps of a marching band.

Across from me, I could see a spindly-looking woman who clearly had her hands full with a dumbbell, taking not very sneaky glances at the guy next to her with a tank top and shorts, running on a treadmill with bulging muscles and thick legs.

31… 32… 33 I counted to myself trying to ignore the minor drama. The woman had given up the weights, opting to talk to the black-haired, tall, broad-shouldered guy. I didn’t really pay attention.

I had already been there for around 20 minutes for my weekly workout, not bothering anyone really. I never bothered anyone actually, most people didn’t know I existed. Well… Most people that go there at least.

I had been going to the gym for quite a while, managing to get a decent paying job as an architectural engineer for hire’, or at least, that's what I told myself. I had the degree, I had the skills, I even occasionally got customers and job offers.

At around 46, I couldn’t lift the 50-pound bar anymore and I pushed it back onto the rack, panting in exhaustion. The cheaply tiled ceiling stared back down at me, the sound of grunts and struggles enveloping me like a heavy blanket. I laid there for about 5 seconds before I noticed the guy from the treadmill walking towards me, with a confident swagger. The woman trailed right behind him in cheap tennis shoes

I heaved a sigh and got up, walking away from the weightlifter, nodding to the bulky guy as I passed. Now that I was getting a closer look, his rugged getup and tattooed face screamed gangster. The cherry on top was the tank top, tanned skin, and tobacco smell. I wanted none of that.

He sneered at me and nearly pushed me aside, his 6-foot size towering me by a 6 inch margin. His cocky grin plastered on his face, the girl at his side smiling sickly sweet. Oh great. Another jerk type.

I kept my head up and glared back at him, deciding the silent pushback would be better than meekly and silently putting my head down.

I quickly walked past, the big guy soundly ignoring me to chat with his new girl. I rolled my eyes, walking out without a gym bag or backpack. I wasn't super broke, but I was definitely at the most, low middle class.

The bell on the gym's door rang as I left, breathing in the scent of the cool night air. I looked up, the barely visible stars gleaming with dulled luminosity. I felt my mind slipping, retreating to my most sacred of all places. The place where I jumped from star to star and explored vast wildernesses among never discovered planets.

My old Toyota Corolla was in the parking lot, beat up and rusted a bit. I got in swiftly, jiggling the keys around for a bit before stepping on the pedal and pulling out of the mall lot that housed the cheap gym.

I felt around for my phone under the dashboard, taking out the 'latest' flip phone. Pretty sure they just make these for paranoid parents and their children. I mean seriously, It takes so long to type in anyone's number!

I grumbled silently, checking over my recent calls and texts, finding Max's number in the missed calls list. I sighed, punching in his number quickly, eyes mostly on the road as I pulled into my apartment complex. The crappy street lights flickered on and off, giving an almost eerie vibe.

I raised the phone to my ear, trying to decide how I was going to refuse Max this time. He always called when he needed more spare cash. His dealer was pretty lax, and his debts were piling up, but apparently, drugs were up there in his list of essentials, along with food and rent.

It went through, his twitchy voice making me recoil slightly, while I unbuckled my seat belt, getting out of the car.

"Hi Max," I said, reluctance and uncertainty oozing from my voice.

"My bro! Just when I needed you! Man, you're a total lifesaver! I’m so happy you helped me last time with Leon and my friends. You have no idea how much that meant to me! Your, like, the best bro ever, and-"

"Dude quit the flattery. Spit it out." My voice took on the sounding tired and exhausted, even to my ears. Not that Max would notice or anything.

"Oh yeah, well, y' see, I uh, need some money to borrow again for-"

"No way man. I've given you almost 2 grand for your damn addiction!" I hissed, opening the door to my apartment and closing it with a slow click. I tossed my keys on the counter, heading to the kitchen for some more of the homemade potato slaw I had made yesterday.

“When are you going to grow up and stop partying like you're still in high school!”

"Aw, c'mon man! Help a brother in need, this crap is serious! I just need a couple, I’ll uh, pay you back!"

I opened my fridge, stuffing food into the microwave, and setting it for a couple of minutes, the cheap heating device rattling on the plastic, making an unsettling rumble.

"Dude, no. You said that last time, and the time before that. You keep borrowing money, I know you won't give it back, so don't sugar coat your words. Just..." I ran my slightly sweaty hands through my brown hair, feeling the tangled rats' nest was similar in every way to bedhead. I have been trying to tame it for years. I never had any luck, unfortunately.

"Just... I'll give you a hundred. But that's it, man, I'm already broke, and if I wanna get famous, I need the money for other expenses."

"Awww, you the best bro! Always there when I need it! But uh…” He paused.

“Well? What is it?”

“See there's, uh, just this tiny problem. It's super small really, easy for you to bypass and stuff. I just need for you to uh... Well..."

I raised my eyebrows, already regretting the promise I had made.

"Spit it out Max, what the hell is it?" I asked with genuine annoyance I knew would make him wince.

He cleared his raspy throat. "So, I can't pick the money up myself, you get me? I need you to just... Drive over and hand one of the guys in the front the Benjamin Franklin, ya know? They're super trustworthy, no need to worry and all that. You just have to drive to the um... Catch of the Day club..."

I groaned, slumping to the kitchen floor, eyebrows scrunched forward. The microwave beeped loudly, its contents now warm enough to be edible. I suddenly lost my appetite.

The Catch of the Day club was a strip club on the nastier side of the town. It was famous for its services, booze, and women. The whole thing was full of trained professionals, guard or club employees. It was really hard to go in there, not spend a penny, and come out without offending a few people. I now knew how Max had spent the money I had given him a week ago. Ugh.

But that wasn’t the reason why I was seriously considering leaving Max hanging. The thing about the Catch of the Day club that made it so dangerous was the fact that It was inhabited by a seriously nasty gang called the 'Molasses Gang'. The whole staff was essentially members, and they ran the place well.

The cops never bothered them, and neither did anyone else really. They were everywhere, and they were powerful. They had tons of bases, and the boss was supposed to be some super businessman. Most who lived on the streets knew his name. He called himself 'Tomahawk'. And he always paid back his debts. Whether it be money, favors, or even revenge.

I had some bad blood with them too. I had stolen from a couple of their members a while back, while I was desperate. Nothing terrible, but enough for them to give me a quick beating and leave me in the streets with my pocket stolen. I really hoped Max hadn't pissed them off royally. Although, in his defense, he was fairly charming and charismatic when he wanted to be.

Max, in all his infallible wisdom, had probably said something really stupid while drunk to one of the strippers and gotten himself kicked out. Knowing his luck, they probably took his car keys so he couldn't get home.

"Dammit Max..." He was silent as I contemplated. He knew me well.

Both of us went way back, like, childhood friends back. As an adult, I had forced myself to take college, piling up student debts, and setting myself financial plans. Max on the other hand had gotten himself a ton of bottles of beer with his savings and called it a day, living off the skin of his teeth. The man probably couldn't even afford tacos, which more than anything made me feel sorry for him.

"Fine. This is the last time. And I mean the last time. You call me and tell me anything other than 'I've got your money' and I'm hanging up and deleting your number.

"Ha! I knew he would come through! I told you guys-" The phone muffled as he started talking to someone else. I was in no mood to talk to anyone anymore, so I just gave him the time over the phone, not caring if he heard or not.

Great. Now I can't even eat my potato slaw.

I drove up to find flashing lights and dance music bleeding through the doorway. A guy in a black shirt and jeans stood in front, a slight bulge at his waist hinting at a weapon.

I got out, fumbling my keys and muttering curses. I did NOT want to be social right now. High school had been terrible, solely based on having to talk with people. I hated it, even if I was remarkably good at socializing anyway. Although, anything related to some kind of relationship beyond acquaintance was awkward. It didn't help that I wasn’t exactly the finest looker either, my sharp face and flat chin with soft oval eyes painted a strong but derpy look to others.

The guard raised an eyebrow as I walked up to the path, the music getting louder and louder with each step, making me wince. I hadn’t slept in a while and I was exhausted. But I knew I shouldn't make Max sleep here tonight. Even if he was an irresponsible idiot, he was one of my only friends.

I showed the guard my driver's license and he nodded me in, pointing towards the left side of the building.

"Go over to the waiting room first. Pay later if you want to get into the dance." The guard said in a gruff voice, rasping out. I smelled liquor on him, pretty potent. The guy didn't even slur or shift in the slightest, making me look at him in surprise. He glared back, his way too clear to be drunk eyes boring into mine. He wasn’t using some kind of alcoholic cologne, was he? I shook my head at the response.

"No, it's okay, I just came by to help a friend. He said something about just handing the money to you so I could just walk off." I asked, trying to keep my face neutral at his stare. Eventually, after a close inspection, he snorted, yelling something out in what might have been german. A response came back quickly from a similar sounding guard, a short conversation of back and forth.

I stayed silent, waiting for them to finish their yelling match. A whole 90 seconds later, the guard turned back to me with a scowl.

"Yeah, he's up there. I ain't going near his filthy ass though. No one else will either, not unless you pay them." He said with some contempt and an almost apologetic tone most businessmen learned.

Dammit, Max! I thought. I let out a long-suffering sigh. I rubbed my head while glancing over at the other guards, stepping into the building. I walked in, already dreading the encounter with Max.

I hurried in, taking a left into a bar area with a few stools and a rope fencing line blocking off access to the dance floor'. It smelled of sex, alcohol, and smoke. No surprise there.

My eyes scanned the empty seats, falling onto a figure by a nearby bench, chatting to two scantily dressed women. Max was in the middle, his short slumped figure slurring his words and laughing along with the two who seemed to be poking Max, slow smiles and supple skin making even me look on in surprise. They were serious lookers, like, young professional beauty types. I had no idea how he had paid for that with his income, but I didn't really care. I was here to get him in and out.

His clothes were pretty cheap, with dark stains on his grey shirt and ripped blue jeans. They were ridden with the smell of alcohol, reeking almost as much as he did. I grimaced, ignoring the hoots and hollers from the other end of the floor.

I walked over quickly, planning to just apologize to the woman, and pull him out. I wasn't staying here. No freaking way.

His gaze drifted over to me, lighting up at the sight of me waving me over with a lopsided grin. His brown eyes and oval-shaped head with similar brown hair gave him a fairly handsome look, if not for the rugged and dirty outfit. I walked up, his arms opening wide in an invitation.

"Hey! Look who it is!" He hiccuped. "My Ombre! My Bro! We were just talking about you!" I frowned, looking at him with a deadpan stare. He was way too out of it to make any sort of conversation.

"Okay Max, you're almost blackout drunk man." I shook my head, ignoring his response and turning to the other women he had somehow paid for.

"Ladies, if you'll excuse me and my friend here, he's had a bit too much to drink and needs to get home. Sorry for the interruption." I said in a respectful tone. Whoever they are, they were probably members, and people I did not want to upset.

The first one turned to me, smiling sickly sweet and flicking her hair back just a bit, meant to be an opening act, or a sample to attract men. like flies to a honey trap. Or, a Molasses trap in this case.

"It's no worries hun! Though, I wouldn't mind taking a turn with you after we're done with him." She nodded back to Max, the other woman pipping up right after.

"Boss said he was a special customer today, no payment needed! I'm sure you could join in too. No one would mind, and I'm sure you could use it." She bit her lip and leaned forward. My expression was schooled, as I tried my best not to scowl.

"What do you mean by Special Customer?" I said, ignoring the invitation. She half pouted, leaning back into a babbling Max, tracing his lower leg.

I wanted to ask what the hell was going on here, and what I had to do with this. I mean, if he’s such a ‘special customer’ why had he asked for money? What is going on here?

"Oh, you see-" the one on the left giggled. "He was talking a lot about his best friend and all, and how he was such a great guy! He told us a lot of interesting things!" She smiled. A little nervousness was pooling into my emotions.

"Apparently, little Usagi has a friend, and he has his phone number too! Could you believe that, Trista?" She purred, her legs crossing over as she pinched Max's cheek, pulling on it slightly. The nervousness turned into dread and panic, my eyes widening like saucers.

Little Usagi. The little rabbit. I had been the best of the best, raiding and breaking into wealthy homes and small local government facilities. I had a reputation, taking any job that was given to me and always completing it.

Until I didn't. And I lost everything. I swore never to do that again, throwing myself into college and school to distract myself.

They had found out who I had once been, and by the looks of it, they had been keeping Max out as bait. I subtly felt the guards shifting near the exits, eyeing me with a predatory gleam in their eyes.

F*@%! I thought.

It took most of my willpower not to bolt away right there. Trista and her friend were smirking at me, a hungry glint in their eyes that had nothing to do with lust. This would go south really fast if I didn’t play my cards right.

“What do you want?” I said. The grin on the two girls' faces just widened.

Their seductive persona had dropped, Max completely forgotten as they stood up. I eyed him for a second, and glanced back at Trista and her friend, subtly moving my head in Max’s direction.

“If you're going to do something, at least let me get Max out of here.”

Trista rolled her eyes, waving me off and pointing at the exit.

The guards got the message, moving out of the way while I picked him up, grunting at his weight. I had decent muscles though, and I only had to carry him to my car and put him in one of the seats. Mostly just for my comfort, as that probably wouldn’t stop the molasses gang from using him as a hostage. No way was I leaving him here.

They didn’t stop me as I left the building, walking up to my car and propping him up in the passenger's seat. I grimaced as his nasty smell was suddenly concentrated in a small area. I considered just getting in the car and driving away, but that would be stupid. They would chase me down and kill some of my customers, or raid my apartment, or any number of things.

I shoved the cash in his pocket, closing the door with a thwack and walking back inside. The guards surrounded me, escorting me to one of the more private office rooms. Trista and her friend were there, both having a much more decent outfit on, reclothing ridiculously fast.

“Well, now that that's taken care of-” She nodded. “We can visit the boss's office and discuss why you're here.” She said. We walked past the waiting area, going through a door that said ‘Staff only’.

What the hell? Instead of some kind of manager's desk or something, there was just a stairway, poor lighting giving it an eerie feel. My first thought was that it was a stairway to hell and that we were already off to a great start. Now, all we needed was a sketchy white van and this would truly be a kidnapping!

We headed downstairs, the railing unused as it led to another door. The whole flight of stairs had actually been around 2 stories, and It had some ridiculous security. Minus my new bodyguards, I must have passed over 20 armed stations, tons of cameras, and even a freaking metal detector at the end. To my annoyance, they confiscated my flip phone.

“I’m going to get that back right?” I asked Trista while we walked out of the things. She looked at me, smiled, and looked back, not answering as her friend split off from the group, sauntering towards the rest of the guards.

Dammit.

When I left the metal detector room, entering the expanse, I had to wonder if they were some Government organization. The room was huge, way bigger than a basement had any right to be. It was a quarter of the size of a football field filled to the brim with shipping crates and filing cabinets. I caught a glimpse of what was inside one of the metal crates and it made me pale.

The thing was filled to the brim with weapons, grenades, and…

“Is that an RPG?” I asked incredulously. One of the guards chuckled, only to be elbowed by one of the others.

Trista glared at both of them, clicking her tongue before turning back to me with a plastered smile.

“Yes, we sell all assortments of items to our customers. We take pride in our anonymity and the quality of our goods.” I suppressed a shiver.

I looked over at some of the other guards' blank expressions, sensing the hard trained professionals that again, had no right to be in a gang. I took a second to study each one. They were all around a similar build, muscular but not overly so. They were wearing black clothing, earpieces, and gun holsters. The Molasses gang was starting to feel less like a government facility, and more like the Russian mafia.

Noticing my gaze, they met mine with a stare that spooked me a bit. I turned back to the nicely clothed ladies, almost preferring their false honeyed words than the guard's blatant hostility.

There were a couple of workers here too, busying around and moving the so-called ‘stock’. They weren’t lying when they said they had everything. I saw things in a wide spectrum, from simple school supplies to RPG’s, they actually did have it all. What the hell did a gang need with this?! And why the hell were they showing it to me of all people!?

I swallowed. I was famous back then, but not beyond my region, unlike Tomahawk. Speaking of him, I spotted him through a small devout in the perfect warehouse, a small office that seemed like a regular white-collared workers' workspace. Loose papers, office supplies, a laptop, it looked normal. It was just… In the middle of this cursed warehouse.

I was ushered in by Trista and her friends, the space seemingly comforting and normal. It freaked me out. This was supposed to be one of the most dangerous guys in the state, not some wannabe everyday joe! Tomahawk smiled at me, his perfect white teeth flashing in the light. He gestured to a chair near his desk, looking like he was about to give me a business offer. In all honesty, he probably was. I could only hope it was about architecture and not burglary.

“Ah! The Usagi! Please! Come, sit!” He said brightly and casually. Of course, his accent was Russian. What's next, is he going to tell me his plans of some kind of grand espionage?

“I see you have come to take my offer of business! I greatly appreciate your consideration and discretion!”

“I never said anything about a-” A ‘ka-chink' sound came from one of the guards behind me. I shut up.

He smiled ambiently. My blood ran cold.

“I’m so glad you agree, young Usagi. Please, give me a moment to just-” He broke off from his speech, shuffling his papers around for a second before picking one up, examining it, and handing it to me with a bright smile.

“Wh-What do you want?” I said with a swallow as I looked at the paper.

It was a document with reports and pictures of a pretty big house. There were statistics that seemed to point to a schematic on the back, detailing an expansive floor that was labeled B29. From what I could tell at first glance, it was decked out with detailed reports and information. I looked up at Tomahawk, his smile waning a bit. He considered me for a moment, studying my facial expression of suppressed shock and anxiousness

“I’m going, to be honest with you young Usagi.” He sat back down in his chair, his bright demeanor gone. He sighed, his hand running through his hair. He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. Trista and the guards quickly left, but not without giving me a lasting look that said ‘Don’t do anything stupid.

My attention drifted back to Tomahawk, his expression now completely serious. The man had such an expressive face, I wondered if he was an actor. He didn’t say much at first, only shuffling papers around and messing with his laptop. It took him 30 seconds before he spoke again.

“I need you to raid and get into Lenchents family estate.” I looked at him with a stupefied expression. Holy S*&$! I thought.

“And I need you to do it in 24 hours.” He said, his voice feeling like lead weights on my back.

The Lenchents. One of the biggest of the big. The family of a corporate company that sells weapons. They were known for their discretion, honor, and experimental accidents that sometimes go off on their grounds. I already knew where this was going.

“You- you what?! You want me to break into a multi-millionaire family manor full of weaponry and hundreds of hostile people?! Wha-

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.” He said, looking me dead in the eyes. I bit back my response.

This was way too sudden. 10 minutes ago, I was driving to fetch my drunk buddy from a bar! Sure, a sketchy gang-infested strip club, but a bar all the same!

I shook my head. “No, no f%#*ing way. This is absolutely crazy. I don’t even know what’s going on! How do you expect me to do any of this? Magic? You want me to magically break through their defenses in a day? In what, broad daylight?! I know almost nothing about them!” I said, flicking the file I was given.

“And what is this, a list of all the diamonds I need to steal? The bad guy's boss? Your secret lover you need me to rescue?” I yelled, getting angry as I looked at Tomahawk's amused expression.

“What is this, a 2000’s spy movie?! Do you want me to grab tacos for you while I’m walking out of the building, dynamite behind me as I walk out in slow motion like a goddamn power ranger?! Because if so, I respectfully decline!” I was almost screaming near the end, my ears red with anger and my face flushed. Tomahawk burst out laughing, giggling like a little girl, if the little girl had a Russian accent, and was supremely evil.

“That,” he said while waving his hand at the window, dismissing guards who were pointing weapons at me while I was screaming at their boss. The same knot of anxious panic that had been stewing in my stomach tightened.

“That was the funniest thing I have heard all week.” He said with a final chuckle, wiping a tear from his eye. A part of me wanted to catch that tear and bottle it up because I was absolutely sure this man never ever cried.

I stayed silent as he cleared his throat, shuffling his papers with a small smile on his face.

“Do I want you to magic your way in?” He asked me, a finger on his lips as he looked into the sky.

“I would very much prefer that, yes. It would save us much trouble. But I doubt you have any of that, so instead, I would prefer you just try your best!” He said.

“Try… My best?” I asked skeptically.

“Oh yes. Try your very best. I mean, if you do not, well… I’m sure the Lenchents will be happy to house you. Permanently. You are expendable to me after all.”

He really is part of the Russian mafia!

“Now,” he said, bringing my attention away from my accumulating dread. “Back to business.”

“Most of the walls are coated in lead, packed with cameras both in either infrared or visible light, sweeping regularly on each corridor.” He pointed to the file, descriptions of the estate going into detail on its building plans.

He continued to explain the layout of the floor, going into detail on its workings and functions. He specified how I would be entering, using a simple disguise and an ID they had stolen. I didn’t ask too many questions, slowly taking in the information while he happily described how I would sneak into the Lenchents mansion, shutting down a specific generator in one of the testing facilities, allowing them access.

“Remember, all you have to do is seal the metal doors shut using the chemical burner pen, and stall anyone there for as long as possible. We will take care of the observation decks while you break down the generator. Clip its wires, get rid of its transmitter, and break the canister.” He repeated to me for the third time.

“Can you… Um… Elaborate more on what exactly you’re going to be doing? What do you even want from this place? Is it like a new weapon, or a USB or an... uh… I don’t know, a new drug?” He shook his head in denial.

“You do not need to know what we want. Only how we are going to get what we want. Do not bother yourself with the specifics. Focus only on your job, and you will get to live.” I scrunched up my face in frustration. I hated being in the dark.

“What I can tell you is that you cannot bring any obvious weapons inside,” he said. “The metal detectors will go crazy if you carry something made of metal that's bigger than a metal orb the size of a ping pong ball.”

I looked at him in confusion.

“However, I can give you a less… obvious weapon. I’ll let Trista brief you on that,” he said. I opened my mouth to ask more on the subject but then thought better of it, turning to a question that he would have a far more likelihood of answering.

“Well… Can you at least tell me why you picked me of all people? There's no need for my specific expertise. I’m not exactly an expert infiltrator. Can’t you uh… Get one of your goons to do it?” I asked a tad forcefully, hoping the false power in my voice would encourage an answer from him.

He smiled darkly, looking at me like I was a piece of bloody steak. “Oh, I tried. You were not the first pick, let me tell you.” He chuckled. “If you must know though, it's because you're expendable!”

My heart dropped. This was bad news. Really bad news. Not only did multiple people who had far more specific expertise fail at this, but the molasses also had the confidence in telling me this. Like they were certain I wouldn’t refuse their offer. That I couldn’t

[email protected]^*

“Well!” He clapped his hands dramatically and his office door opened, the brutes of the merchant's gang of molasses beckoning me out.

“I think that went quite well! and I cannot wait to see you succeed!” He said with a grin. Oh, no-no-no. This is not happening

“I’m sorry about this but you, unfortunately, cannot return home tonight, seeing as we need you up and early in just a few hours! Trust me, it's for the best,” he said, still the cheerful Russian.

“I will have Trista inform you more on the specifics of the ‘heist’ as you called it. And do not worry, your friend Max is safe and sound!”

“Wait! What the hell did you do to-” Ka-Chink!

Alright well, maybe this isn’t so bad. If anything, sleeping in a warehouse full of powerful gang members with freaking RPGs should be a fun experience! Maybe I could actually catch a wink of sleep while I was here!

I was led back to Trista, a light seductive smirk on her face as she puffed out her chest. It served to do nothing besides annoy me.

Dammit, Max!

I shifted the vest on my back, ignoring the mumbling coming from the walkie-talkie at my hip.

“Be ready for the gate to open. The guards have been bribed to let you in without checking the cargo. Get ready guys, we’re about to go on radio silence so white can mosey in.”

I sighed, trying not to make much sound among the crates of weaponry. They were smuggling me in with my disguise and everything, stashing me amongst their merchandise. Apparently, they made weekly deliveries to this place.

“Trevor, get ready for the operation to start, jam the camera’s when I give the signal.”

“Rodger.” Another voice came through.

They stopped talking as I drove in. The driver who had been bribed didn’t bother to question why the also bribed guards just let him pass without inspecting the stuff. I stayed silent, the rattling from the vehicle on the elevator going down made my eye twitch.

I fingered the pen into the uniform, biting my tongue in concern and concentration. I still thought this was absolutely crazy, and I was dreaming, but I knew I wasn't. I had pinched myself earlier to make sure. I felt the elevator jerk to a stop and I grimaced, waiting for the signal, the tippity tap on the base of the car from the driver.

And tippity tap he did, as I slinked out of the entrance of the car. Now outside, I was met with a pretty basic metal uplift, surrounded by grey and weathered steel. The vehicle was a military-grade van with a tan-colored cloth on the top, its camo-style paint slightly warped as the engine chugged loudly.

The room was a big pentagonal star, with multiple hallways and locked doors leading to different parts of the floor. Looking up, I saw darkness, with faint sunlight coming from the top, presumably 13 floors up. Each of the hallways was stark white, very bright, and led to a door at the end of it.

I eyed the driver suspiciously before he waved me off. Nodding, I slinked into the shadows, breathing out as I remembered the skills I had learned on the streets. I steadied my breathing, slumping my muscles down and moving smoothly, never flashing any of my skin. The pitch dark clothing blended with the darkness as I rounded the corner, looking into the hallway with a door at the end of it. The lift had only been able to take me to the 13th floor, the elevator car was not able to go further without a higher-ranked access card.

I shook my head, grateful the walkie-talkie had cut itself off from the chatter of the other operation members. I knew none of them, only getting the vaguest sense from them that they were ex-military, and they disregarded my presence as expendable dust. Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.

I entered one of the well-lit hallways, the white halls painting a stark contrast to my black clothing. I sighed, looking at the guard's uniform with an expression of resignation. The greys and blacks highlighted it, making it a very visible disguise among then white halls. A name tag reading Larry was pinned to my heart.

I adjusted my posture, relaxing my gaze and walking with confidence. I approached the doors at the end of the hallway, pushing them open with a swipe of Larry's card to reveal light chatter and the occasional person walking by, totally absorbed in their own worlds. They were either in a stereotypical lab coat or a guard's uniform. I blinked, looking from side to side and leaving the well-lit hallway with only the slightest hesitation.

I hid the bags under my eyes with a slight smile, looking into the distance like I was excited by something. No one bothered me at all while I walked to the elevator, my stride nervous and giddy. The elevator gave out a short ding before it popped open, and 2 people came out, scurrying away like rats, not paying me a second glance.

I got in the elevator, my confident swag interrupted by the sight of a mid 30’s woman on her phone inside the elevator, hair unbound and eyes flat and bored. She glanced at me when I punched in the button for the 28th floor, but averting her eyes quickly. I looked at the other light on the lower 4th floor. Ugh. We would have to go all the way up first.

We headed all the way up, the dinging sound that signaled when we passed a floor grating against my nerves before it opened and she got out. I heard her heels click-clacking as she walked away, eying her suspiciously. Nobody here even regarded my presence suspiciously, not even in the slightest. The security here was terrible.

The door eventually closed again, heading down and dinged on the 28th floor. I would have to be extra careful down here. There were distant voices coming through, telephone calls echoing through the corridor, the lighting still bright and blinding. I breathed slowly, hoping the camera jammer was still in effect. It hid my form, but it didn’t obscure the entire camera.

This was going to be a bit tricky. I shoved a rag in between the outer doors, waiting only for a second before it went back up to ferry a new person. The rag that was a bit too thin to register in the scanner, was quickly taken advantage of as I pried open the stop-gapped doors. It was difficult, giving me trouble until the gap was wide enough for me to fit.

I swallowed, checking behind me for anyone as I squeezed myself in, taking the rag with me. This trick was worthy of Hollywood, the kinda stuff that gets you on television. Even spiderman would approve.

I psyched myself up, biting my tongue as I looked into the dark elevator shaft. The noise of the elevator pulley going up distracted me only for a moment.

Don’t think about it, just Jump! I thought as my foot extended forward, catching a metal bar on the opposite side of the gap I had pried open as I hopped again. This time, I went downwards, using my momentum to catapult me into the 29th floor, and onto the other elevator door.

The so-called 29th floor was actually around two in one, giving more space to its containment and testing facilities, where the really juicy stuff lied. I wasn’t after that though. I solely focused on hanging on the slight edge that extruded from the doors of the 29th elevator shaft. I grit my teeth, getting the pen out as I uncapped it, not putting pressure on the thrust cap at the end of it. I stood on my tippy toes, the tips of my fingers exerting strength. I jammed the razor-thin end of it into the doors as Trista had advised, bending it back as the thin razor struggled under the pressure. I prayed it wouldn't break as I grunted, slowly slipping down the last few stories. Eventually, when the gap was finger width, I jammed one of my hands in there, tucking the pen back in my uniform, panting.

I took a second to calm myself, wriggling my hand as the gap went from finger size to human size while I slipped through.

I really hoped no one was on the other side watching, even if Trista had assured me the elevator on the 29th floor was almost never used, the people who were down here on a tight schedule and didn’t leave unless it was the morning, lunch, or when they had to go home.

I wormed my way out, grunting at the pressure it put on my chest. I got out after 20 seconds of frantic struggling, falling to the floor in a heap.

I looked up instantly, sighing in relief as no one appeared to be watching. No one had seen my fall, and hopefully, no one heard it either. I grunted and stood up, stretching my arms while I listened, just in case… Nope. As far as I could tell, no one was coming.

Well, I guess that settles it. I plopped down on the floor, the elevator doors shutting soon after. Now I just have to wait for the other heist guys to patch me in.

I didn’t have to wait for long. Only a couple of minutes later, the walkie-talkie blared to life, the connection reestablished.

“You ready white?” The voice whispered.

“No. But I’m going to do it anyway.” I said, my voice laden with hesitant determination. I slunk forward slowly, rounding the halls in silence as I prayed I wouldn’t encounter anyone.

“Whenever you're ready…” Said the voice as I turned it back off.

I glanced from left to right each turnabout, the unnerving white hallways staring back at me in bright clarity. I heard footsteps, coming closer as I followed the directions that I had memorized after being given a map detailing my route to the containment facility.

Of course, there are some people who are off schedule. To hell with this. I thought bitterly

The footsteps grew louder, the chatter and footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. My face twisted into a grimace as I looked around, searching the doors amongst the hallway. It was decorated with multiple office rooms and research labs, labeled by the bold white lettering next to each door.

I silently entered the closest labeled door to me, praying no one was inside. I threw myself in, just as the loud mob of people rounded the corner of the hallway I was on, paying no attention to anything except the conversation they were having.

There seemed to be around 5, each talking to each other casually, the tennis shoes padding down on the floor with thumps.

I sighed in relief as I realized they weren’t coming in here, before turning around to get a better look at where I was.

It was a simple desk room, its inhabitants vacant. I got lucky.

The desk was littered with papers, filled with unreadable sloppy but blocky text. The computer was switched off, multiple sticky note reminders were attached to it. There were also a couple of office supplies, but that was about it. A very normal deskspace, if a little cramped.

I shook my head, focusing back on the now retreating footsteps, the chatter of multiple people and researchers leaving the hallway. I was glad none of them owned the office. Because if so, I would have been screwed.

I creaked open the door, slipping out like a rat, looking left and right. An anxious grin was on my face as my hand left the doorknob, slinking back into the hallway, following the memorized path. Of course, at that moment, I happened to hear a yelp behind me.

I whirled around to see a tall lanky form, glasses on his face as he looked at me with surprise and suspicion. My eyes widened like a rat caught guilty with a block of stolen cheese.

“Oh… Uh…” I said while staring. “Hi…?”

My words snapped him out of his daze. “You're not authorized to be here.” He growled narrowing his eyes as he took in my uniform. His eyes flashed to my name tag and totally not suspicious posture that I transferred subtlety, making myself look nonthreatening and guilty.

“I don’t know what you're doing here, Jerry, but I’m going to have to report you in.'' He said while he tapped a com on his ear.

“I would get fired if they knew I had let an unauthorized guy here. This place is important, you know?” He said, seeming almost apologetic.

I only froze for a second, thoughts rapidly swirling in my mind. I had messed up, gotten complacent after I had felt safe for a couple of seconds. I had lost my confident swagger and my basic guard uniform probably wasn’t viable down here. I shook my head, trying to see if I could solve this with a simple lie, something to sidetrack the guy.

“Oh hey, Ken! Sorry for interrupting your break, but can you take a real quick dive into a guard named Jerry? Yeah, he's like 5 and a half, black hair, and oval green eyes.” He asked, still looking at me with suspicion. Crap.

“Hey wait! I was just-” A tiny voice blared into the researcher's com, making me shut up. Nope. There was no way I was going to be able to deal with this.

I hissed a breath with my eyes squeezed shut. I turned around in an instant, sprinting down the hallway. Maybe a little stupid, maybe a little rash, but I wasn’t about to wait around while they found that jerry had probably gone missing a couple of days ago. Or he never existed in the first place. I didn’t ask what happened to him, as I did not want to know what had happened to him.

I heard the distant shout of the researcher while they ran after me. I had little time. Maybe three minutes before more guards arrive. That was fine. I only needed a sixth of that.

I rounded a corner, barreling into multiple people who fell down at my impromptu tackle. Shouting and cursing insured while I got back up again and kept running. Okay, maybe not 30 seconds, but less than 60!

BD46, BD48, BD50… I passed rooms in rapid succession, looking past all of them in favor of stealing my gaze forward. I passed more surprised researchers, and some open doors that held equipment I didn’t look at.

I soon reached my destination, shouting all over the place as I waited for the alarm. A single wooden door was in front of me, a symbol for stairs plastered on its top. I threw it open, the concrete and metal stairs leading downwards.

Needless to say, I went down three at a time, hoping I found no more people on the way. Luck was on my side this time, my flight down the stairwell going uninterrupted as I burst into a smallish metal detector room with a couple of guards mingling.

I cursed, whipping myself back before they could see me. I closed my eyes, slowing my breathing as I calmed down. I had forgotten I had to enter through here. I was meant to stall them before the distraction went through. And based on the other guards who are most definitely coming after me? That was doubly true

I looked back down at my simple guards uniform, grimacing at my lack of tools or weapons.

[email protected]%& I thought as I stepped out with a bright smile. Heads whipped to me as they looked at me, scanning my form for a threat. Unless a Pen counted as a weapon, they wouldn’t find much on me. A stark contrast to the bulky well-fed guards around me.

I gave them a small shy wave, giving them a friendly but somewhat nervous smile. My eyes tracked them, taking in the metal mechanical doors, its interface panel, and the metal detectors.

“Oi, what are you doing here Mr…” The one in the front squinted at my dangling name tag “, Larry…” My smile strained a bit.

“Ah, well… I’m so sorry but I seem to be a tad bit lost… I was running an errand for my erm… Boss, and lost track of where I was going.” I said with my best sheepish grin.

The guards relaxed an inch, their hostile looks subsiding.

“Oh, well, who is your boss? I’m quite familiar with most of the higher-ups, so I can direct you to their office if you tell me who they are.” The guy in the front said. His name tag read Angel, making me think whoever the hell this guy's mother is must have been an optimist based on the faint scar lines and cold eyes which held the spark of a false smile.

“Oh uh… Her name is uh… Daniella!” I blurted out, hoping Daniella actually existed. I just needed to stall long enough for chaos to come so I could slip through before they organized themselves.

Angel frowned, taking sidelong glances to his buddies who were shaking their heads. His brow furrowed deeper that cast a dark look across his face. I almost gulped, before he just shrugged.

“Sorry kid. No Idea who that is. They’re either new or your boss is relatively low on Lenchents ladder.” He puffed, sitting next to the metal detector controls. I idly wondered what the pen would look like under an X-Ray.

“Oh well... That's okay, I’ll uh, find them eventually,” I said with an easily projected nervous laugh. “But uh, while I’m here, can I ask… What's down here?” I said. It was a shot in the dark, but it might give me more info on what was down here.

One of the guards near the back gave me a curious glance before he clicked his tongue and spoke.

“Well, If you must know, it's a containment chamber.” He said. Now it was my turn to look at him curiously. This guy's name tag read Timmy. “It contains some failed experiments, prototype weaponry, and dangerous materials. Essentially storage for various items. It has a side chamber for testing, but it's totally unused due to the disaster of what a misfire could cause.” Timmy said while scratching his cheek.

Angel shot him an annoyed look before jerking his thumb back at the big metal door.

“Yeah, what he said. The damn things a pain to upkeep though. It requires constant maintenance and an access card to get in.”

I was glad I went for the non-threatening lost guy appearance. I have no idea why these guards just freely give information like that. Like seriously. The entire security here seems seriously lax, it's honestly baffling. Did they just never have anyone try to steal their files, or secrets, or whatever?

If this was some kind of spy movie or novel, I would say this was some kind of trap… But that's stupid. This is real life.

I heard the distant thump of footsteps coming down the stairs. They were coming, and they were coming quickly. The other three guards' heads shot to the stairs while they heard shouting. Tiny voices spoke into the mics in each of their ears.

They first looked confused, my reaction Matching theirs. Then came the shock, and the alarm. They looked toward me, the cogs turning in their eyes. I tried my best to seem utterly confused.

They didn’t seem to care much though, judging by the guns now aimed at my head and shouts of getting on the floor. I wasn’t stupid. I got down to the floor, still feigning panic, which wasn’t hard to do at all.

I could still salvage this. I just need to time this perfectly.

Reinforcements arrived, stomping across the floor towards me. I counted around 30, cramping up the relatively small hallway.

“Skyler!” A voice came from the crowd, running over to Angel who was currently pinning me down with his knee rather uncomfortably, reaching for handcuffs by his waist. He paused, looking up from me at the woman approaching, a grim expression on her face.

“Rodriguez. What's going on? I heard there was a system error and a break-in. What the hell is happening up there?” Angel asked in a calm tone. Rodriguez scanned over me quickly, assessing something. I couldn’t see her face, being pinned to the ground and all.

“Someone messed with the cameras.” She said, “Someone who knew what they were doing.” The utter silence of the 30 something guards behind her sent chills down my spine. Her attention turned back to me.

“Can you get him out of here?” She looked at me with a frown on her face. “I cannot exactly share sensitive info with… Larry.” She said. Angel nodded.

“He was here because he was ‘Lost’. Rather a convenient time to be running around these halls, eh?” He said, the mirth in his voice not matching the dead look in his eyes. Jesus, this guy has seen stuff!

With hands pressed against my back, this one was going to be hard. I squirmed, shifting my position so the button of my walkie-talkie was pressed against the floor.

“What? No! I really had no idea where I was going!” I lied through my teeth. “I was supposed to give this weird box over to one of the people in office BD48! All Daniella told me was to get it done now and make it back quickly! She kept saying it was really important.”

They looked at me weirdly as I over-pronounced the words now and quickly. Some of the guards looked at each other for a moment before a couple of them were sent off.

“We’ll have to confirm your story.” That was all the response I got before it happened. The entire room went dark, the power suddenly going out.

Yes! I thought as my vision was cut off instantly

A series of explosions came and went in the distance, shouts erupting from the 33 something guards. A smile touched my lips in the pitch black. I felt Angel loosen his grip on my hands, his knee pinching off my back. I was never one not to take advantage of a perfect opportunity, so I made my move.

I wriggled out, twisting over and grabbing the side of his leg. I threw him off me, a grunt of a surprise coming from his fallen form.

My thoughts raced as I grappled with him. I had 30 seconds before the generator managed to shrug off the EMP. After that I had about 5 minutes before the Molasses gang broke in, all the while holding off a bunch of pissed-off burly guards, and on top of that, disconnect the personal power generator that powered the containment room.

Before Angel could shout, I clamped down on his mouth, feet kicking the gun next to him away. I needed Angel to pull this off. Or, rather, I needed his keycard, which is most certainly tied on by one of those stretchy string things. Or there's some type of retina scanner. Whatever, I’m sure he will be useful.

That said, dragging a monster man like that, struggling, in the dark, while this chaos is happening in this little amount of time…? Yeah. Not fun. Fortunately, there was a reason I was called a master thief and burglar. One of these included knocking people out.

Not giving Angel a moment's reprieve, I slammed my knuckles into his nose with surprising strength that left Angel in a daze. I felt his labored breath against my hand as I continued to sucker punch him 2 or 3 more times in the nose before he fell unconscious. I don’t go to the gym for nothing, after all.

I stood up quickly, the guards rapidly organizing and quieting down. I panted. 10 seconds had passed, and I had about 10 more until someone noticed Angel or Skyler or whatever he was called, was gone. I picked him up in a Pseudo princess carry, dragging him slightly across the floor. I knew the damn containment facility still had power, and would probably react to Angel’s card… Probably.

This was most definitely not part of the plan.

I mean, If the whole thing needs regular maintenance, maybe the guards had easy access and were the ones checking up on it…? I really hoped so. Far too late to grab some random janitor anyway.

I passed the silent metal detectors, dragging Angel across the floor... Or at least I think I did. It's kind of hard to tell without any light to see by. 20 seconds had passed. At last, I reached the metal door, grasping at his thighs for some sort of card, any card. He was so damn heavy!

After a precious 3 seconds, I fumbled the thing attached to his uniform, failing at taking it off. Cursing, I shoved the man's entire leg into where I remember seeing the interface panel that looked like a scanner.

For a moment, I thought my dumb luck had finally run out, the distraction that had given me hope, all for nothing. If the lights turned on and I was seen dragging Angel around, gunshots would ensue very quickly. My only hope would be to use Angel as a hostage and lock us in there, but I really didn’t want to do that. Thankfully, the door opened with a woosh, and light bled into the pitch-black hallway.

I didn’t even look back for a second, scrambling inside while the shouts ceased, a modicum of order restored as they found their balance. Before the startled guards could come to their senses, I jammed Angel's thigh into the same interface on the other side of the doors, cursing as it began to close.

Then, and thankfully only then, did gunshots ensure as I dived out of the way. Why the hell were they shooting at me now?! I not only had a captive, but they were also shooting into a lab full of volatile failed experiments and chemicals! Are they stupid or something!?

I caught my breath, looking around for a moment in the gunshot fire, noting the two-story ceiling and two observation decks on either side of the containment facility.

The door soon shut with a clang! The sounds from the other side suddenly cut off. Grimacing, I took out the pen, letting Angel fall to the floor as I uncapped the thing. I pushed on the end of it, hearing a heavy spring-loaded click that started to heat up the whole pen.

I had no time to study it though. If Angel had some kind of keycard, I’m sure others do too. I leaped over to the door, practically throwing the hot metal Exacto knife onto the seamless gap of the mechanical doorway. The now cherry red metal pressed into the doors, fusing the steal together. I tried not to inhale the toxic fumes from the melting steel, but I was in panic mode. Some definitely found themselves into my nostrils, making me cough, jerking my hand that traced the seam.

I quickly refocused. It was welding both edges of the doors together, stalling them for what would probably be a decent amount of time. It was eerily silent, the soundproof walls leaving only the racing of my heart and the hissing metal to keep me company. It took me a full two minutes, but I actually did it.

Can’t rest yet though. My head whipped around to look at my surrounding, knowing I had to get rid of the power source to allow the molasses gang entry. There were a lot of things here, more than you would think actually. It reminded me of a messy garage, just filled with boxed and plated failed experiments instead of your grandma’s china or a bicycle. Yay...

I had no idea how the molasses gang would get in, but that wasn’t my problem right now. With a trained eye, I scanned my surroundings, spotting the hidden panel almost seamlessly embedded within the wall. I clutched the pen that was starting to burn into my skin. Ignoring the sensation, I walked over to it, my footsteps breaking out into a run. Another minute had passed.

The instructions for how to cut off the damn thing ran into my mind. I had no idea how they knew what specific type of generator they were using, but I didn’t care. I opened it up, looking at the big white box that chugged out barely audible humming. I stabbed my cherry hot Exacto knife into the metal, prying it open to reveal a mess of wires, fans, and a big ol’ cylinder that turned in place very quietly. Another minute.

Now, the only thing I have to do is choose either the red or the blue wire… Hmm….

I thrust my arm into the mess, grasping for a small metal connector near the bottom of the thing. I carefully avoided the spinning cylinder, grasping it. I tore the thing out with my bare hands, ripping it out and throwing it behind me. I followed up with the Exacto knife, cutting a bunch of wires tied together at once. I then immediately moved on to the small metal fluid vial in the back, stabbing it as it erupted out of the solid canister.

Bad move. I mean, to my defense, I was in a rush.

The moment the superheated knife hit the fluid, the damn stuff caught fire. The knife slipped from my grasp, lodging itself into the internals of the generator. Yeah, I know. A little obvious in hindsight, but I was in a hurry, okay?

My hand came out quickly on reflex, the lights flickering out from the power. The cylinder powered down too. But that wasn't what I was focussing on. My hand was sprayed with some of that fiery liquid that boiled my flesh. It felt like grabbing onto an oven tray but forgetting you didn’t have a kitchen glove on. Blisters popped up on my skin like whackamoles.

Needless to say, I screamed. I screamed as the darkroom was lit up by a single tiny flame, growing bigger and bigger by the second. My good hand clamped down on my mouth, panic settling down as age-old instincts kicked in.

I scrambled away, knowing full well I had no chance of putting out that fire. I ran to what appeared to be a wooden crate in the little illumination I had, diving behind it as it started to spread.

I panted, focussing on my breathing while I calmed. I could hear the faint crackle, the memory burning into my mind's eye.

They should be here soon. They had to be here soon. I only had a minute or two left before they said they would break-in.

I curled my legs up into my knees, tears glistening. I had done my part, now it was up to them. From the small flammable bits and bobs in the generator to the wooden crates around it, I watched the fire grow. My eyes were wide and panicked when one of the wooden crates suddenly exploded.

I screamed again, wooden shrapnel flying everywhere. I was a little more than twenty feet away, hiding behind another wooden crate. I took deep calming breaths, standing up on shaky legs to find a safer cover. I don’t know why they weren’t here yet, but they must be close.

I’m sure I’ll be fine! This fire may be dangerous, but the Molasses gang probably brought some kind of fire extinguisher… Right? I mean, how could they not? They most likely-

Something impacted my side like a pile of bricks, driving me into the wooden crate I had just behind. Stars swirled around my vision, adrenaline-pumping into a whole new octave. I was shocked, the blurry form of a burly man came up to me, arm raised. A fist struck the side of my head.

More stars. I gasped unintelligibly, my brain short-circuiting before animal instincts took hold. Before the next punch landed, I jerked myself to the side, falling over as flesh slammed into the wood. A moment of clarity took hold as I glimpsed a man very much not worthy of his name.

Angel, in his muscular glory, had blood dripping from his nose, a snarl concocted from pure fury. Hellish flames decorated the sides of his face, black hair dancing as he pounced towards me again. I tried scrambling back once more like a crab, but he latched onto my leg before I could get very far.

He yanked, my whole weight shifting as I slid back. I tried rolling but found that it was a terrible idea from the kick that came as consequence. I yelped, drawing in my arms to protect my face while he pummeled me once, twice, thrice.

I felt his hands dig into my side, lifting me up only to slam me back down again, my head cracking against the floor.

I screamed as he crushed my burnt hand beneath his heel, my other hand shooting to his leg to get it off. He took advantage, grabbing onto my other arm and flipping me back over, pressing his knee against my back.

I was pinned once again, hoisted up, and put into a chokehold. I gasped like a fish, staring ahead at the fire, grasping for his arm with my one good hand.

Fury tinged his voice as he spoke in a slurred tone.

“You… You were the little S%#& who was causing this eh? I can’t… Believe you F^#*ing left me untied while you set fire to this damn place. That was F%$#ing stupid.” He chuckled.

I was losing consciousness, my vision fading into black. His words registered in my mind like a distant echo across a sea. I desperately hoped they would come soon.

As if he was reading my mind, Angel chuckled, madness tinging his drunk voice as he whispered into my ear. “You want to know the funniest thing though? I bet I know who was helping you. I bet they know too. The Lenchents... I mean, who wouldn’t forget the grudge they have with… Old Tomahawk.” He said.

I froze a bit, my hand clawing for air. I bucked and kicked, feeling him wrap his scarred arm deeper around my neck. My ears rang, just about catching the distant explosion of some kind of crate, as well as a hissing sound. None of his words really registered, as I was too focussed on trying to breathe to really process them, the hope of the Molasses gang coming soon kept me from despairing.

I actually did manage to worm my way out of his iron grip, another explosion causing him to lose focus. I bolted up, my lungs gasping for air while I stumbled back. Angel laid still for a minute, just staring at me while I caught my breath, his wide grin distorting in the flickering orangish-red light.

I gathered my bearings, glaring as I sat up straighter. My horse throat didn’t allow language, at that moment.

Angel stood up, the smell of burning chemicals reaching my nose as he closed in. I grunted, backing up as my brain worked overtime. What the hell was going on? Why hasn’t Tomahawk and his damn goons gotten here yet? Where was everybody?

My thoughts froze a bit, trying to recall Angel's words. Something about how they knew… A horrible thought filled my mind. My mind flew to the very little security, almost disregarding the possibility someone could break-in, in the first place. I pieced the puzzle together quickly from the fragments, my panic and horror growing.

I opened my mouth, a half-whisper leaving my throat.

“They… Aren’t coming back…. Are they?” I asked Angel's demonic form. He just chuckled.

“No… They aren’t. Neither will the company come to save us in time, with you welding the door and all that. They don't tell me much, but I doubt the sudden departure of almost all the guards on the lower floors a couple of hours ago was a coincidence.” He sighed, his rage fading.

I… I had no idea what to think. My mind went blank for a second. If no one was coming, then…

“Are we… Going to… Die?” I asked. Angel smirked but said nothing, gesturing to the welded door and the unreachable observatories. I looked on in horror, the fire coming closer and closer. I was going to die.

I... was going to die, without ever kissing a girl. Or getting a proper job. Or making more friends beyond Max, or going to an all-you-can-eat taco buffet, as well as innumerable other things I never got the chance to try.

Tears spilled out of my cheeks. I looked over to Angel, his smirk gone. Why didn’t he… Why wasn't he trying to kill me right now? Why did he not rant and rage because I killed him?

I was going to die. The words kept going off in my mind like a broken record.

It made me feel… Angry. All my life, I had been essentially trampled on. The big shot thief or not. And now, after probably being abandoned or killed, my ‘help’ was fone. I had been trampled on by the people who forced me here, played like a fiddle by the Lenchents, and trampled by the rest of society.

And now I was going to suffer for the molasses gangs blunder. Like I had suffered for everything else. Something more than anger suddenly came forth, something more than even rage. Something that trumped every emotion I had ever felt, like a primal part of my being was being unleashed. It felt like…

WRATH

“This is all your fault!” I screamed with little sense to my words.

I bolted forth, not caring about anything as I tackled Angel. I felt his body tense up under me, the thunk of flesh on tiled stone as we hit the ground as one. A rage-fueled punching fest was borne, diving in and out, roaring along with the fire nearby.

I shoved Angel, focussing on his elbow as I wrapped myself around it, slowly bending it backward until it snapped. He screamed as well, clawing at my burnt hand, tearing the skin off. I didn’t care. I kept at it, the motions of my wrestling training from my aikido teacher telling me where to hit, what to break.

Neither of us really paid much attention to the pain, the feeling fading as gas invaded our lungs. Explosions and shrapnel occasionally came from the crates around us while the fire urged us on, like gladiators in a ring.

Eventually, I disengaged, leaping backwards on all fours like an animal, favoring my better hand. Wrath continued to pour inside of me, my lungs filled with hazy smoke and gas, my breaths ragged and hoarse. I felt… Horrible.

My eyes retained a fraction of sanity, of purpose. We stared at each other like rabid dogs, in equally broken states. Angel's eyes now held a similar trait, his reasoning gone. I was a bit worse for wear though, my small form working against me in such small quarters.

A part of me was crying out in grief, knowing I was going to die. Another part was almost relieved, happy for my escape from this poor excuse of a reality. But most of me was… Still angry. Wrathful. I hated the man in front of me, I hated the molasses gang that drove me here, I hated the very ground I stood beneath, but what I hated most of all right now… Was Myself.

No matter how much I wanted to sugar coat it, I knew It was I who sealed the doors, I who knocked Angel unconscious, I who set the fire. And now, because of my mistakes, both of us were going to die.

It seemed to kind of… Shatter my anger a bit. I felt my surroundings sharpen, the red haze from the fire seemed a little less hellish, the wrath in my eyes subsiding.

I took in my surroundings, the burning wood and steel crates, shipping containers, and the odd desk. Acid and flammable liquid erupted as unknown substances made the flames burn brightly, its color shifting. The outlines of the flames danced, purple and blue flickering flames everywhere. It was chaotic, and it was so so close to us.

I got up on my knees, almost crying out at the feeling. I looked into Angel's face, the red anger of an animal swirling in his eyes. If there was ever a time to make a joke on his ‘sizzlin hot body’ now would most definitely be the time.

I tried to speak, grasping for my throat as I wheezed.

“I’m… Sorry” I managed to get out. He sneered at me, his rage only growing. He lunged. I closed my eyes, slumping down in defeat.

But before his arms could reach my neck, a ‘crack’ came from another wooden crate, a massive explosion distributing tons of wooden shrapnel… One of which embedded itself into Angel's eye, the size of a baseball. He seemed to freeze, time stopping as the emotion drained from his face, and he dropped, life leaving him.

I couldn’t take it anymore. Tears burst from my eyes, only to disappear in the heat just a moment later as the fire burned, edging me onwards to battle a dead foe. My sobs came harder, shivering in a ball.

Given seconds to think like this before I was taken in by eternal flame was a curse. My life didn’t exactly play before my eyes, but my regret certainly did. Like a cinematic, I saw each and everything I hated about myself. I saw myself watching as Max grew up, getting stoned while I did nothing about it. I saw myself secluded in college, avoiding everybody. I saw the glint in Angel's eyes as he died.

Eventually, the pain came from my chest as my broken and bruised body was given brand new blisters by the second. I looked down at the shard of metal shipping container in my stomach, black and red blood pooling out. I closed my eyes and slumped to the ground.

I didn’t hear my screams. I was a mess of blood and blisters, and I was fading rapidly. I was so close to death, I could feel it. The pain dulled, and my mind weakened, but not before my body suddenly lit up. I opened my bloodshot eyes again in almost amazement as fire danced across my blackening flesh, burning the skin and scorching my clothes.

I felt nothing, my shock, and wonder at the pretty but scary flames on my skin captivating me. Then the pain hit.

I screamed. Loud and spine chilling. It didn’t stop. The burning. Pain PAIN.

BURNING.

SCALDING.

FIRE.

HURT.

IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS.

Nothing.