The lights are blindingly bright. Avery slowly opens her eyes, resting on the back of a rough, stained couch. Garbage is piled over top of her: half-eaten boxes of food, wet papers, and thin, moldy bags. Avery rolls off the side of the wet couch, dragging the cushion down with her. The hardwood floor is stained and wet, covered in puddles of various substances. Beside her is a low coffee table: papers, glasses, needles, and a flimsy deck of cards. Avery shakily pulls herself to her feet. The walls around her are smoke-stained black. She snatches the deck of cards off the table, and into her pocket. She trudges across the room, wading through garbage, until she reaches a nearby armchair. Flynt is sleeping. Avery reaches over the chair; her arms feel heavy, and she can not exert her usual force. She shakes him for a while, but he does not wake up; he just lays there. Underneath the humming of the fluorescent bulb, the running of shower water pierces the room. Avery stumbles over toward the door, leaning up against the wall beside it, waiting. The world stays still. Other than the sound of running water, there is nothing. The flow stops. There is ruffling and rummaging in the bathroom that echoes throughout the rest of the building. The door slowly creeks open, and a woman slides through the door. She stops in front of the door as she eases it shut behind her, and she and Avery stare at each other for a while.

“Hey, Avery!”

She is a bit shorter and skinnier than Avery, with thin blonde hair.

“Who the fuck are you?”

She chuckles. Her face returns to its usual blank expression.

“Oh, this again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Where’s Jack?”

The woman presses her fingers up against her temples.

“Hm. I don’t think I know this ‘Jack’.”

“Who are you?”

She sighs.

“I’m Braellyn. You’re Avery.”

She swipes her hand over the room.

“Flynt’s sleeping in that chair over there, and I’m sure Eleanor and Deagon are in here

somewhere. Can you remember all that or do I need to write it down for you?!”

“You’re Braellyn?”

She nods.

“Where’s your beak?”

Braellyn stares at Avery for a minute.

“Are you feeling okay?! Maybe you should just go back to sleep. Sleep is a good remedy for you being a fucking wacko.”

“Wait… I have two more questions.”

“Go ahead.”

“Tell me everything that’s happened in your life up until now.”

“That’s not a question–”

Avery grabs her shoulders and slams her back against the wall.

“Just tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“Ow! What the fuck, man?!”

Wide-eyed, Avery stares at her for a while. She loosens her grip on Braellyn’s shoulders.

“Please! Please… Tell me everything.”

Braellyn lets out a great big sigh.

“There’s not much to tell. My life started here, obviously. I think it was about a month

ago. Deagon told us not to let anybody in under any circumstances, so we never open the door over there.”

Braellyn motions her hand toward the door at the opposite side of the room. Avery

glances over at it before patiently returning her gaze to Braellyn.

“I’d like to believe there are other rooms like this one, and other people that live in them.

That just makes sense to me. I love you guys, but you kinda treat me like shit.”

Avery frowns and puts her hand on Braellyn’s shoulder. Braellyn tenses up for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Braellyn. I’m glad that everything you just said sounds suspicious as all hell,

but I’m sorry for being a fucktart.”

“What’s a fucktart?”

“I made it up. Anyways, you and I are friends from now on.”

Braellyn pauses and stares at Avery for a moment. She turns around, and wades through the garbage across the room, muttering to herself.

“Woah! That went much better than expected.”

Avery glances frantically around the room, past the mirrors on the wall, and past the

overused dartboard. She locks her eyes onto the door on the other side of the room. She ambles toward the other side of the room and stares into the door. Unlike the rest of the room, it is pristine. Footsteps gather behind Avery. She cocks her head around to see Deagon standing behind her.

“What are you looking at?”

“Uh… The door.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Deagon fiddles with a pen in his hands.

“How else am I supposed to leave?”

“Jack is keeping us safe.”

“So you do remember! Why is everybody being so fucking weird?”

“I don’t remember. This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation. It’s getting on my damn nerves.”

“Fuck.”

“Sometimes Eleanor says she remembers too.”

Deagon glances away toward his arm. He shakily raises the uncapped pen toward the

wall and begins to write nonsense over the wall.

“Uh… are you good?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you doing that on purpose?”

“Nah.”

Avery darts her eyes about the room, looking back at Deagon from time to time. His

squiggles on the wall grow larger and larger. Around the entirety of the room, writing in ink sparsely decorates the walls and the variety of items scattered about. Avery rolls her eyes and treads back into the center of the room. A rustling forms just under the sea of garbage covering the entirety of the room. Avery steps back as the rustling grows. From out of the garbage, the form of Eleanor pulls herself off the floor. She takes an unsteady stance on the carpet, spreading her arms out and wobbling in an attempt to catch her balance.

“Hey! You seem busy today!”

“Deagon told me you had your memories.”

“I do remember things from time to time, yes! Do you have any questions for me?”

“Honestly, I just want to know how to leave…”

She points theatrically toward the front of the room.

“The door’s right there!”

“Thank fuck you’re here to bestow upon us such great wisdom.”

Eleanor laughs a guttural laugh. She paces back and forth between the nearby couch and coffee table, not once making eye contact with Avery.

“You never did like me, did you?!”

“No, not really–”

“That makes sense!”

Avery turns around, walking back toward Flynt’s chair. Eleanor grabs her arm. Her hand is freezing cold. Avery turns around and brushes off her hand.

“I forgot you were dead.”

“I forget that sometimes, too.”

The two of them chuckle awkwardly. They stare past each other for a moment.

“But I like it better this way! Indeed, I have memories from all of my past lives.”

“What were those like, anyways?”

“Well, unlike you three psycho killers, Braellyn and I have only lived twice. Indeed, both times we became indebted to each other.”

Avery brushes all the garbage off the low coffee table nearby, onto the floor, and she sits on top of the table, staring intently at Eleanor.

“In our first life together, I started off as a wealthy entrepreneur. I was the most powerful unaffiliated person to have ever lived!”

She makes a dramatic, sweeping motion with her hands. Avery goes wide-eyed.

“You weren’t in a gang?!”

“Nope! That is, until I lost everything. I took some risks, some stupid ones. I had nothing and nobody. I didn't even have a place to sleep until Braellyn found me–”

“Oh… That was just before I killed you guys that one time…”

Avery and Eleanor stare at each other. Avery scratches the back of her head and closes her eyes. A few moments of silence pass before Eleanor falls into a fit of laughter. Avery recoils for a moment, until the laughter slowly dies down.

“Yes, you could certainly put it that way! The second time, Braellyn was born into a small, devoutly religious village. They had some strong feelings about her beak for whatever reasons. I never made it big, so I ended up partnering with Jack’s family!”

She stands up, holding her hands to the sky in a grandiose gesture.

“As such, I took her under my wing.”

Avery raises an eyebrow and shrugs.

“You guys are pretty fucking weird… but I can’t say I don’t respect it.”

“Much appreciated!”

Eleanor stretches backwards further, expanding her grandiose gesture. She trips backwards over the clutter, collapsing onto her back into the pool of clutter. A wave of garbage splashes up into the air before falling back down onto her.

Avery stares toward her for a moment before she makes her way over to Flynt’s chair. She grabs him by his shin and drags him off the chair. She turns around and paces toward Deagon and the front door of the room, dragging Flynt through the trash like a ragdoll. She stops just in front of Deagon. Beside him, the scribbles on the wall have grown considerably. Avery squints past him, at his drawing.

“Is that a map?”

Deagon mindlessly glances at the wall.

“I suppose it is.”

Avery points a finger at the bottom of the map.

“That’s the room we’re in now… right?”

“That would be correct, yes.”

Avery grabs the doorknob and begins to pull the door open. Wasting no time, Deagon whips his arm past his side, striking Avery in the gut. She stumbles backwards. She wheezes as the air escapes her lungs.

“God dammit, Deagon!”

Deagon slides in front of the door, slamming it shut.

“I can’t let you leave.”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“He’ll kill you.”

“Jack? Now I know you’re fucking crazy…”

“You don’t know half of what he’s done.”

“As if I’d give a fuck either way. I said I was gonna get Jack. The time is right fucking now–”

“I’m not going to let you kill yourself.”

Avery furrows her brows. Her expression falls into furious perplexity.

“I’m not staying here.”

“You dumbass. Don’t you know you’re the only two who have been around as long as I have?!”

Deagon falls into a kneel.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Everytime the world resets itself, you two are always there, the same as before.”

“Oh shit… Won’t there be another Flynt and Avery next time, though?”

“You know it’s not the same.”

“Yeah… Well, if we die, we can meet up in Deagonland or whatever the fuck it’s called.”

“You know I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”

“You have to die eventually.”

“I know! Don’t you think I fucking know that?!”

The room falls silent. Braellyn stops in the center of the room, wide-eyed, staring at the commotion between Avery and Deagon. Avery and Deagon stare at each other for a minute. Slowly, Deagon slides away from the door, leaning up against the wall.

“Don’t come back.”

Avery looks at him and tilts her head.

“When you leave, don’t come back.”

Avery nods. She pulls open the front door. Behind this door stays a hallway with the same wallpaper as the rest of the room, smokemarks and all. The hardwood floor is identical as well. Avery grabs Flynt’s shin again and drags him toward the hall. She turns around for a moment. Braellyn creeps closer to the door. Eleanor sits up from out of her trash pile and cocks her head over to the door. Avery steps back further into the hall, dragging Flynt with one hand, waving goodbye with the other.

“If we get this all worked out… I’ll send Jack your guys’ way! He’s a nice dude when he isn’t killing everybody!”

Braellyn smiles and waves goodbye as Avery kicks the door shut behind her.

In an endless maze of halls, all seemingly identical, Avery continues along her path, now wearing Flynt around her neck like a scarf. At once, he starts to move.

“What are you doing?”

“You weren’t awake yet… So I figured I’d just bring you along anyway.”

“Where are we going?”

“Wait, before I say anything… Do you have all your memories or are you gonna be stupid too?”

“Are we seeing Jack?”

“Yeah, good guess…”

Avery keeps marching down the corridor, still wearing Flynt like a scarf.

“Deagon even made like a map and shit, but I forgot the fuck out of that thing like half an hour ago.”

Flynt does not respond.

“We’re not lost though. Jack’s like a fucking beacon. You can just feel which way he is.”

“No I can’t.”

“Well, maybe you just suck. I can.”

“Maybe you’re delusional.”

Avery chuckles.

“I don’t think we’re very far now, to be honest. You woke up at a good time.”

“Why are you still carrying me?”

“Do you want me to drop you?”

Flynt does not respond. Avery rounds the nearby corner at the intersection between a few identical halls. Far down the end of the hall, the path seems to come to an end. Not a dead end in the sense that there is nowhere left to go, but that the end of the line is shrouded in an impalpable darkness. Without warning, Avery drops Flynt to the floor; he scurries to his feet, and darts down the hall after her.

They find themselves in a pitch dark room, once they make their way down the end of the hell. Avery tries to turn around, using the light from the hallway behind them as a reference point, but the hallway is gone. In a perfect void, Avery and Flynt can only see each other. A small figure approaches the two of them, accelerating quickly. He stops just in front of them, Jack, and stares.

“No. No, for what reason have you come here?”

“Jack, I… I guess I’m here to kidnap you again.”

Flynt nods while Avery stares back at Jack, expressionlessly.

“I know you’re in a shit place right now… No man left behind, you know?!”

“I have been a puppet for so long. You have no idea–”

Flynt walks toward Jack. Jack hops backwards. The room seems to revolve around them.

“Flynt… What are you doing?”

The room seems to fall black for a moment. The expression laden upon Jack’s face falls flat. The space around Jack seems to compress – at once, Flynt falls onto his back, soaked in a veil of blood. Shakily, Avery cocks her head toward Flynt. There is a hole clean through his chest.

“I’m sorry, Avery. I saw the little detour you went on. You didn’t have to kill them. We have to try again”

“I just… Saw you were trapped in a shitty situation, and I wanted to break the cycle, you know?”

Avery’s face turns red as she incessantly darts her gaze between Jack and Flynt, bleeding out on the void of the floor. A few moments pass. Jack hangs his head. Avery tilts hers to the side, and raises a brow. Her face loses all expression. She slowly walks toward Jack.

“Why are you doing this? Why both of you? I did all this to help. I don’t understand.”

Jack does not move. Avery approaches him slowly, stopping inches in front of him. Just as he did with Flynt, Jack drives his arm through Avery’s torso. He goes to pull his arm out, but Avery grabs his arm and looks down at him. Jack’s expression fades to terror. Avery leans forward and gives Jack a hug. Jack stands still for a minute. Jack shakily reaches forward and hugs her too. Her voice is shaky and crackly.

“You’ve done enough…”

Her grip loosens. Jack pushes her away, and stands motionless for a minute. His face gets red and flushed with tears. He falls onto his knees and looks up. The darkness begins to subside, and the static dies down. The void dies. Jack is gone, and the flooded city falls into silence.