If a fever dream had grown legs and walk on Earth, it would have looked like this -
And despite the obvious question - "when the hell did Emiliano build all this?"- that was the least of our worries.
Instead we had a choice to make.
Ignore the omega cadavers falling over as soon as we opened any door
Or
Desensitize.
Walk on them.
Throw them aside to make way to crawl, to climb and to jump over.
This whole escape plan was shady from the beginning.
Killian being able to bust open his cage door.
No security encountered before getting to me.
My room being unlocked.
And now-
I see the bodies of the men who died in my riot- burned, twisted, shot- falling from every corner.
My nose burned. Decay had seeped into the walls. Like the air had been marinating in corpses.
Five stars on the Airbnb type of place.
I feel Killian's hands shaking as he's carrying me. I might not have a summer body, but I doubt it's because of my weight.
He's sweating. I can hear his heartbeat. I see his eyes.
That look- the way his eyebrows are frowning in concentration.
He's scared.
Yet he clings to me. He holds me tight.
I can't recall the number of rooms and passages we went through.
Meds are making my mind fuzzy. I can't really tell if it's reality or I'm hallucinating back in the room Emiliano locked me in.
I swear, under our ragged breaths and loud heartbeat, I can hear something lurking behind us. Too fast to be human.
I'm not imagining it. Killian's looking back — he hears it.
Unless I'm imagining that too.
"Something's following", Killian whispered.
His voice was shaking. Maybe because of the lack of oxygen, maybe because of the fear.
"We need to hide. I'll hide you first. Be quiet and don't move, ok? I'll come back for you."
He's gonna leave me alone.
"No, please", I succeed in mumbling.
The anesthesia still had a heavy effect on me. I can't even talk properly.
Killian took a second to caress my cheek.
Romantic moment interrupted by the stench of death and shadow of imminent danger.
He covered me with the corpses lying around.
I feel blood dripping on me. Maggots eating away the cold flesh of whatever poor bastard is lying on top of me.
And I'm scared.
I'm so scared.
Not by what will happen if Emiliano catches us. He wouldn't hurt me. Not to the point of death.
I can negotiate with him to spare Killian too.
But the darkness, the decaying bodies and whatever is hunting us in the dark-
That's not Emiliano. Not the one I know at least.
I try not to move, but I'm shivering so hard the pile on top of me is shifting too. The weight of it is crushing me.
Not only physically.
Where did Killian go anyway?
I hear someone walking beside me. Slow, heavy steps. An oddly familiar smell followed.
More aggressive
More furious.
More dangerous.
Vanilla. Black pepper.Charred wood.
All combined into a suffocating scent that swollen your throat, filling your lungs, suffocating slowly.
I can't see, but I know who he is.
"If you get out of here alive, Luther, I need you to know something."
Another monologue?
He's becoming more of a cartoony villain every time.
But I'll still pee myself a little if he sees me under the dead bodies of my cellmates.
"Everyone turns back to God at some point of another. I'll be waiting for your return. And when you do-"
Dramatic pause.
Like the surroundings don't crush me with pressure and anxiety enough as it is.
Just say your line and leave, bro.
I think a maggot got in my ear and I can't move to get it out.
"I'll expect you on your knees, begging and pleading. Praising my name."
Ugh.
I don't know what's more disgusting- that line or the maggot.
It moved. It's getting deeper in my ear.
Yuck, yuck, yuck.
The maggot. Definitely the maggot.
He chuckled and left.
Slowly.
I reached my ear and got it out. Barely.
"Not dead yet, buddy."
And I am talking to a maggot-
Great.
Next time I'm getting kidnapped, could they just sell my organs?
At least that would be quicker.
Killian came back.
He's drenched. I don't even wanna know in what. It's not like I'm freshly out of the shower.
"Are you ok?"
"I just pulled a maggot out of my ear. What do you think?"
He looks disgusted.
Well, I'm sorry. Should I have rated the experience five stars on Yelp.
Right next to your five-star review of diving into sewage.
"Let's get out of here. I don't hear anything following anymore."
"I wouldn't say. God is omnipresent after all", I snarked at him.
He raised a brow in confusion.
You know what? I don't even wanna explain.
"What are you waiting for?", I ask. " Take me home."
He smiled slightly and nodded.
Corridors after corridors.
Mud, brown water, rotting blood.
It didn't matter. The more we saw it, the faster we got.
Until the exit.
Emiliano's cherry on top.
Lior.
Suspended into the air. Tied by hands and legs.
His ribs had been cracked open from the spine, splayed out like grotesque wings — raw, red, and twitching with every shallow breath he still managed to drag.
His lungs were fluttering. He was still alive.
The ground below him was just a pool of blood, bile, pee and tears. Every liquid imaginable really.
He was mumbling. Praying perhaps. Not sure to whom.
I bet that sick fuck is laughing watching.
I jump out of Killian's arms, falling to the ground.
I scream. Not in terror, in guilt.
It's visceral. It comes out from a part of me I don't even know.
I can't hear myself.
I only hear Lior's mumbling. And flies around him eating his flesh.
It's too high to reach him. To save him.
How can I save him?
He'll die from infection. He's beyond being saved.
Unless-
Only one person could help him. Make him whole again.
Emiliano
And I am the price- no.
The offering necessary for indulging such a miracle.
A life for a life.