Rising Tide

Content warnings: manipulation, graphic violence, body horror.

Author: Lux

Arriving at their office, Canlin was exhausted. They had stayed up all night working on a case and the unusual heat was not helping them stay focused. They pushed the door open, not bothering to unlock it since the door’s lock had broken the previous week when some thug had knocked it down looking for them.

Their office was in the usual state, with papers in loose stacks all over the desk and floor. It was sparsely furnished, with the only surface not covered in papers being the worn out and extremely comfortable couch that sat a foot from the desk. There were insurance claims, letters of contempt, letters pleading for help, subpoenas, tax forms, bills, overdraft notices from the bank, and forms for days. They seemed to threaten to swallow up what was left of Canlin’s soul. Each one tugged at their attention, requiring time and focus. Canlin just collapsed sideways onto the couch exhausted. And a pile of papers, balanced on the back of the couch, fell onto their lap. Of course.

Taking a few minutes to recover from the heat, Canlin was just about to get up when they heard footsteps coming up the rotted wooden steps to their office. Grunting they sat up and swung their legs into the correct sitting position. There was a child standing in the doorway. When they saw Canlin, the child looked as if startled and positioned themself behind the frame.

“Hey there, what’s wrong? Where’s your family?” Canlin asked, trying to sound friendly and nurturing.

“I, was hoping, that you, would be able to help me.” They spoke with constant stops, seemingly unsure of everything that they were saying.

Canlin didn’t like to agree to things, especially business-related, before even hearing out what they were. But this was a kid, and they always had a soft spot for kids. “Of course I can help,” Canlin responded. “What’s your name?”

“Fen,” the child said. “You’re Canlin, right? You’re the detective?”

“That’s right,” Canlin said. This was a bit odd, he must be here to ask for help solving something. A child had never done that before. How important could it be? “What is it you need help with?”

“My best friend, Stengraf, went missing last week.”

“I see. Have you asked Sten’s parents if he was sick and home from school?”

Fen nodded. “No one’s seen him. And no one seems to care.”

“His parents don’t care?”

Fen shook his head. “They have four other kids and they say they don’t have time to deal with another runaway.” He clearly starting to get a bit upset and had stepped out from behind the doorway. “The police said the same thing! None of them want to help because none of them care! But I heard that you care, about the people you help. That’s why I’ve come to you.”

Canlin paused for a moment, thinking about the situation. The case that the Queenspects hired them for was very high priority, since getting back their stolen property would reward them with enough money to pay off their bills. And they were still trying to solve the murder of an elderly couple downtown, though that was going nowhere.

“I can look into it for you for a bit.” They gave a reassuring smile. “I don’t have that much to do today. Can I ask you some questions?”

Canlin arrived at the abandoned building where Stengraf disappeared from and immediately felt that something was wrong, but couldn’t quite put a finger on what. Something sour in the air? It was something that made them uneasy and they patted the inside of their coat, feeling their tiny custom hydrogen revolver. It had cost them a lot to get ahold of, but it had saved them on more than one occasion. They stepped inside.

Kids had clearly been here, that was for sure. Some of the things left in the building, like a small statue, had clearly been hit repeatedly with something, and there was trash all over the place. It surprised Canlin a little bit that someone who was the friend of the little shy kid that had met them in their office that day would come here.

It took them a while, but eventually they found a dried spatter of blood on the floor near a doorway. Someone had clearly been taken by surprise here. There were a few drops further down, leading towards a backdoor of the building. The lock on the door back here had a very clean cut through it. This had been calculated and precise. They might have even had someone watching the place, lying in wait. This building would be too conspicuous, but maybe one of the nearby buildings. That would have been their next step anyway, if they didn’t find anything in here.

There were two buildings that could easily be used to watch the entrance to this one. One was a storage facility, the other was a dingy restaurant. The storage facility was locked and had no discernible way up. Every window was barred and every door locked. There was also no way on the outside to get to the top. The owner of the restaurant yelled at them for wasting their time.

Canlin decided to turn on the charm. It was something they hated to do, something they wanted to leave behind, but it made them unnaturally good at their job. Without this power, Canlin would have had to find some other line of work a long time ago. And despite the stress, they liked helping people. It was just hard to feel like you could be a force for good when you manipulated people into doing what you wanted.

But that was what vampires did. Or at least, the kind of vampire that Canlin was. One that could steal a person’s very own sense of what was likable, and mold it to suit their own needs. Charming wasn’t exactly like it seemed in folklore. The target didn’t suddenly lose control of themself. What Canlin did was read them very very well, deeper than a non-vampire or non-psionic ever could. They would use this information to appeal exactly to whichever emotion they needed their target to have. Usually that was trust. This would unfortunately leave the target feeling “empty” for a while afterwards. There was no long-term damage, but it made Canlin feel dirty. They regretted ever agreeing to become a vampire, a foolish decision made in their youth.

“Didn’t I already tell you to go away?” the restaurant owner asked.

Canlin was sure to talk in the tones that could set up the psychic connection. “Yes, but I was wondering if we could have a word again.” They could feel what the owner was feeling. Annoyance, a desire to get this snooping person away. That much was already obvious. The connection would get deeper as they go. Why was she acting this way? Was she hiding something?

“What’s to say? I can refuse entry to anyone. That includes you. So, unless you’re going to order something, get out.”

“You see, ma’am, I’m trying to track down a missing boy. You wouldn’t want him to get hurt, would you?” Canlin could feel the connection sink a little deeper. Fear. This person was afraid. But it wasn’t a fear of getting caught. It was a fear of someone in particular.

Canlin continued, “If you know something, anything, about who might be responsible, I can assure you safety. I have a connection with the police and can make sure they guard your home.” This pushed a little too hard. They could feel the restaurant owner grow deeply worried.

“The police aren’t capable of doing things like that. I heard that just last year, a friend of my cousin was murdered under police supervision. Now, get out of my shop.” There was something there that Canlin could exploit. It was a lie. The person who had been killed was much closer to her than the friend of a cousin.

“That’s terrible, and I can understand your worry. But if these people are never caught, they’ll keep doing this to other people, and they’ll keep killing, including children.” There was something new here, an emotion that Canlin did not expect. Confusion, and a desire to help.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” That was a very genuine statement. They truly meant it.

“Why can’t you help me? If something weird’s going on-”

“Something weird is going on, and I don’t know what it is. I can’t… I just can’t help you.”

“You’re clearly afraid of someone. If you tell me who they are -”

“That’s just the thing, I can’t tell you. I have no idea who they are.” Truth, again.

“Is there anything you can tell me about them? Maybe some distinctive clothes or what they sounded like? Something like that?”

The restaurant owner just shook her head.

Canlin decided to sound resigned. “I understand. Thank you for your time.” They then slid a piece of paper with their address on it to the owner. “If you learn anything more, this is where you can contact me.”

Canlin managed to make their way up to the roof anyway. Behind the restaurant was a rusty emergency metal stairway that they managed to jump up to. The steps seemed to scream and Canlin was briefly worried that they would collapse under their weight, but they held. Pausing for a second to make sure that no one was about to come around back and threaten them, they continued up.

The roof was fairly plain, with the usual roof features like gravel underfoot and a door going down into the rest of the building. Save for one corner, closest to the abandoned building. A small metal chair and a wooden crate used as a table. Someone was definitely staking out up here.

Canlin set up their counter-stakeout atop the small apartment building behind the restaurant. It wasn’t too hard to get there, they just posed as someone visiting another resident and they just needed to be let in to wait for them. It didn’t make sense, but people don’t think about that sort of thing too much once they trust you. Canlin pulled out a book and something to eat and waited.

It was a few hours before anything of interest happened. The sun had just barely moved past the horizon and the cold was beginning to creep into the air. They had just looked away when they heard someone climb onto the roof. They waited a minute to look, to make sure they wouldn’t be spotted themself.

The figure had a gaunt frame, clad in dark clothes. Slightly bent over in the chair, they peered down over the edge, then back down, satisfied. It was then that Canlin saw another person exit the door to the roof. A huge, imposing figure dressed similarly to the other, but who held themselves completely differently. This was someone incredibly confident in their own strength and ability to hurt others. It had been a long time since Canlin had seen someone that inherently frightened them like that. Could this be a bodyguard? Or simply the accomplice?

Canlin pulled out their notepad and started jotting down every detail they could think of. There was no telling what might be useful later. It would be another couple hours before anything about the scene changed. The smaller figure just peered over the edge and the larger one just stood in the middle of the roof. The focus was downright creepy.

When the change came, it was a simple hand gesture to the larger one, who started moving towards the door. Canlin knew better than to duck their head down behind the little ledge at the edge of the building. The human eye is very good at perceiving changes, rather than seeing things that are far away that don’t move. However, the figure looking over the edge turned to look at their companion as they left and suddenly Canlin’s and their eyes locked.

The wide eyes that returned Canlin’s stare shined in the night like a cat’s. They had darkvision. Canlin froze for a moment, unsure if they should make any sudden movements. After all, it was possible that had just picked up on a weird shape and would look away in a moment. The figure stood up and shouted something to their companion. It was time to go.

Canlin jumped up from their spot and began scrambling to get down from the building. There was a crash as something hit the top of a nearby building. Canlin didn’t stop to look at what it was. Even one pause might be the difference between getting caught and getting away. Even the difference between life and death.

They dove through the door back into the apartment building and jumped halfway down the stairs to the first landing. Their legs took the impact badly and it caused them to stumble for a moment, but the adrenaline carried them through the pain. One knee didn’t want to bend back up, but they forced it with a pop that made them grimace. The darkness inside the building made it difficult to keep going quickly, so they found themselves slamming into walls and handrails constantly as they went down.

There was the sound of someone behind them. Probably one of the tenants seeing what the commotion was. Canlin was certainly making a lot of noise as they barreled down the stairwell. They didn’t stop to be questioned though, and they finally reached the ground floor and flung the door open. There was another crash like the sound they heard on the roofs, but coming from inside the apartment building.

They finally turned to look behind them. One foot out the door, they stopped and gaped at what they saw. It was the bulky figure from the roof that they had seen. They somehow got onto the roof that Canlin was on and then jumped down the gap between the stairwell. The tile on the floor had shattered around the feet of the enormous person, who was even bigger up close than Canlin had realized.

“Idolmar’s blessing! What are you?” Canlin asked, blurting the question out before they realized what they were doing. The figure did not answer and stood up from the squatting position they had landed in. The bolted forward, directly at Canlin. Finally regaining control of their senses, Canlin turned the corner and sprinted away as fast as their legs could carry them. They would not be able to outrun this opponent, but they might be able to get away if they lost them in the maze of alleys.

Their opponent overshot the doorway, just as Canlin had guessed. They heard them scramble to a stop in the street in front of the building just as Canlin turned the next corner, down the filthy alley that denizens of the apartment building apparently really liked to ditch their trash and waste.

Something about this whole situation was yelling at Canlin in the back of their mind. Something about this seemed very familiar. But they didn’t have time to dwell on it. They tried to turn another corner and slipped on something underfoot. The ground came up too quickly and they didn’t have time to angle themself at a good angle, landing on the hard stone of the street awkwardly. Pain shot up their arm, but it wouldn’t feel as bad as what was to come.

They felt the bruiser grab the back of their head, fitting Canlin’s entire skull in the palm of their hand. Their hand was rock-solid, entirely muscle. It was then that Canlin realized who they were, as they wrapped their other arm around Canlin’s neck. This wasn’t some hired thug, this was a Goon. While they were struggling uselessly against the Goon’s grip, a chloroform rag came down over their face. They let go of Canlin, who breathed deep into the rag by reflex and quickly fell unconscious.

Awareness came slowly. All Canlin could think about for their first few moments of consciousness was how much their head swam. Then they slowly realized they were tied to a chair and through their eyelids they could see a bright light sitting right in front of them. The air had a cold dampness to it like a basement. They opened their eyes and saw a silhouetted figure sitting between them and the light, playing solitaire on a small table off to the side. Canlin’s gun was sitting there too.

“What’s going on?” Canlin asked, still trying to remember the events before they were knocked out.

The person spoke in an unsure manner. “Oh, uh, I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you that. But I guess I do have some questions for you.” The person moved their hand down as if to put the card they were holding in one of the piles, but then stopped and looked down at it again more closely. Without looking up again at Canlin, they asked, “Why were you spying on us?”

Canlin began to recall the events of the night and remembered the Goon crashing down the stairs after them. They took a deep breath and looked around the room a bit more. There was exactly one door in, a sturdy one made of metal. A shadow underneath told them that someone was standing outside. A guard. Probably the Goon again? Ready to smash the door open at the first sound of trouble. They put on the most innocent voice they could muster. “What makes you think I was spying on you? I was just enjoying a nice evening on the roof of my apartment.” Canlin could feel the connection begin slowly creeping its way out.

“I don’t think that’s true. We found this weird book on you. Full of notes of some kind, like you were keeping tabs on us. Written in some kind of code.” It was apparent that this person was following instructions and was just repeating things they had been told. They put the card down and picked up a new one.

“You mean my poetry book? It’s not exactly written in code, I just have bad handwriting.” For the second time tonight, the lie came easily, fed to them subconsciously and without skipping a beat. A detail they noticed then fueled the lie. The book was not sitting on the desk with the gun. That means that someone else had it. “Did you get a look at it yourself? It’s clearly in stanzas.”

Canlin’s captor didn’t look away from their next card and instead bit their lip and touched the gun with their other hand. “Then why did you need this?” The connection reported that this person was very confused and didn’t know who to believe, but was still relying on some authority above them.

“I always carry it. It’s not a nice neighborhood I live in.” Canlin doubted the person would have any more questions and decided to switch it up. They leaned closer, which wasn’t a very far since they were still bound to the chair, and whispered, “Look, I’ve got a family. I don’t know what you’re up to and I don’t care. You can just let me go and we can pretend this whole thing never happened.” Canlin knew this wouldn’t work, but it would at least change the topic away from what they were doing.

The person gave them a kind of pained smile. Though Canlin couldn’t actually see it because of the blinding light and despite the fact that it wasn’t words, the connection still told them something. This person wanted to help, and was resigned to not be able to. They said, not whispering, “Everything will be okay. Tomorrow you’ll be alright.”

That was a bit of an odd thing to say. And the more Canlin thought about it, the stranger everything about this whole situation felt. Why would they put someone like this in charge of interrogating them? Someone who clearly wasn’t very intelligent or even invested in what they’re doing. And something about this whole setup was odd, and strangely familiar. But their head was still spinning. The only reason they were doing this well at all in the conversation was thanks to their vampiric powers.

“What do you mean by that?” Canlin asked, still whispering. “If you could let me go tomorrow, why not now.”

“Can’t tell you that. It’s secret. Boss says so.” The silhouette looked up and back down. The feelings that Canlin could detect revealed that this person was about to be done with this conversation altogether. But that wouldn’t do. This Boss person obviously meant a lot to them.

“This Boss of yours obviously means a lot to you. Why did they stick you down here interrogating me? I’m not important, and you obviously are.” Saying “obviously” twice felt weird, but it was already out of their mouth. Nothing they could do about it now.

“Ah, I, uh,” the person started, flustered. They finally lowered their voice too. “I guess you could say that I messed up recently. Boss was all, ‘Reice, get out of my sight.’ I can’t remember the last time I saw him so angry.”

“Well, one mess-up shouldn’t mean you get stuck like this.” Canlin left off the unsaid “That’s mean of him.” If this person idolized their boss as much as Canlin suspected, then that could just put them on the defensive. Canlin’s head was beginning to swim less. They thought some more about what was familiar about this situation and began to remember their childhood for some reason. It was right on the tip of their tongue, metaphorically speaking.

“It was kind of bad.” The person stopped and thought for a second. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to tell you this part. Since you’re not going anywhere, especially not with Vanda right outside. Basically, we were trying to grab this kid.” Uh-oh, the connection was reporting a very deep shame, that gave Canlin a deep pit in their stomach. “And, uh, I kind of… didn’t do my job right. I’m supposed to stop people from, uh, seeing what’s going on when we’re on a job. But I got distracted and someone rushed in to stop us.” They gulped. “Look, I’m not a bad person, I just have to do this. I didn’t want to hurt anybody. I-”

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault who got hurt. You don’t want to hurt anyone.” That was a lie, but Canlin just knew it was the right thing to say. “It wasn’t you who did it, I’m sure.”

“No. No, I mean, it was Vanda, but it was still my fault. And it wasn’t just this person who stepped in. My friend got hurt too, they’re a -” they cut themself off. “They do what I do too. And now I’m the only one in the group who can be here right now. It has to be me. I know I’m not suited to,” they gestured around the room. “This. It just has to be me.”

This tickled at the part of their mind that was still so sure that they somehow knew what was going on. “What is it that you’re doing, exactly?”

“I already said I can’t tell you. Just trust me, we’ve done this before. You’ll be alright in a day.”

Suddenly everything fit together. Canlin knew why this whole setup with the light in their eyes was so familiar. They had seen it done before. This wasn’t an interrogation, this was a vampiric ritual to turn someone into a Mistant, a kind of vampire that emits a poisonous cloud that makes people unobservant and confused. Canlin looked down and saw what they expected to see, the person’s shadow right on their torso. If the shadow of a Mistant was kept on another person for 24 hours, their powers would be granted to that person, assuming they were not already a vampire.

But this was something that the Coven would never approve of. It was practically sacrilege! They did not turn people into vampires against their will -- that was why it took so long for Canlin to figure it out! (In addition to just having woken up, of course). What was this group doing this for? Were they trying to start a new Coven or something? There’s no reason for that. It didn’t really matter what the reason was, though. If Canlin could get out, they’d have to contact the Coven and let them know what was going on. But that wasn’t something they’d had to do in over a decade. They weren’t sure if they even could.

The silhouette was fidgeting a bit, clearly unsure what to do, since Canlin hadn’t spoken in a while, and had probably had some weird facial expressions while they were figuring it out. “I don’t know if I can trust that,” they began saying. “I need to get back to my daughter. She needs me and I can’t get caught up in whatever it is you all are doing.”

The silhouette flinched. This had clearly struck a chord with them. “It- it doesn’t matter. You’d never get past Vanda, and she won’t move even if I asked her to.” Canlin looked at where they presumed the person’s eyes were. They saw the silhouette move as if looking at them back in the eyes, then they moved their eyes to the gun. The figure’s head moved too. “Oh no. You’re not doing that!” they shout-whispered. “I can’t have you hurt anyone.”

“You’re a good person, Reice, I can tell. I don’t have to hurt anyone to get out. I can just threaten Vanda with the gun and run away.”

“But I-”

Canlin shushed them and said, “You won’t get in any trouble. We can make it look like I escaped my ropes and overpowered you. And my daughter, Lind, would be ever so grateful. Every time we see each other, I know I’d have you to thank. You don’t have to hurt others, you can do good.”

The figure paused for a second, clearly unsure of what to say. They pushed the light away from Canlin, which made sense now that they knew what its real purpose was for. “Just do it quickly. You’ll need to hit me hard enough to bruise. I’ll loosen your ropes.”

After Reice explained how to get out, revealing this building to be entirely underground, everything happened so quickly. The events seemed to happen before their eyes, with no decision-making on their part. Their hands were free. Reice was unconscious. The gun was in their hands. The door swung open. The gun fired. Vanda was down. And now they stood in the hallway outside the room, looking down a line of metal doors just like this one. There were 6 in total, one for each of the vampire types. And down the hall was a stairway going up. The firing of the gun was loud. It wouldn’t be long before more guards came down. And Canlin only had 5 rounds left in the hydrogen revolver.

The first door in the hall that they tried was locked, so they did what they always saw in movies and fired at the lock. They didn’t expect it to work, since it seemed like one of those things that would be made up for theater, but it somehow did and they kicked the door open. Inside the room was an elaborate magic-looking circle. They immediately recognized this as something that could be used to trick a victim into thinking they had discovered something that could kill a Twomind. In reality, using it for that purpose would just turn them into one themself.

No time to spare, Canlin didn’t even try the handle on the next door and just shot its lock too. This room contained a torture device. At first they thought it would be for making a Drake, but they noticed that the torture device had a weakness that would allow someone to push it off of them if they were strong enough. That made this a room for making Goons. They could begin to hear the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

The third room they tried finally hit the mark. And it was maybe the most horrific one. On a cot in the middle of the floor was the mangled body of who they presumed could only be Fen, the child they had been tasked to find. Every bone in their body had been broken to turn them into a Drake. When they finally healed, he’d have to ability to regrow bones and skin easily, and summon claws that could drain the life force of a victim. There was no way that Canlin could get him out in this state.

The worst part was that Fen was clearly awake. He tried to look up at Canlin, or at least, that’s what Canlin thought he tried to do. Since even his vertebrae were broken, he just could up convulsing in pain on the floor. Noises escaped the child’s throat, sounding like what Canlin thought was “hhheeellllp mmmmeeee.”

The footsteps had clearly reached this hallway finally, and they hid in the shadow of the door and waited patiently, aiming their revolver at the spot where a head would enter the room, if the body it was attached to was of average height. Canlin didn’t have the greatest reflexes in the world, but their custom-made revolver could fire both remaining rounds before the person could react, giving them greater chances of doing damage.

“Come out with your hands up!” a masculine voice shouted down the hall. Canlin did not move.

Another voice followed up. “We won’t warn you a second time. Come out.” Canlin still did not move.

They heard slight footsteps enter one of the rooms they had already opened. They then realized that these guards would probably be more Goons and would thus be full of stolen muscles. They aimed slightly higher. Soon they saw a shadow in the doorway to theirs, and a head entered slightly below where Canlin had expected. This guard wasn’t a Goon, but a Drake. Their horrible siphon claws were out in one hand with a gun held in the other.

Canlin fired both shots. The first missed and uselessly struck the concrete wall on the other side of the room. The second hit its mark and the body of the guard dropped. Not even a Drake, with their power of regeneration, could get back up from that. These were not well-trained guards. Not at all like in the Coven. They clearly thought being Goons was enough.

Another Goon (Canlin still had no idea how many there were) swore and fired four shots directly into the heavy metal door that Canlin was hiding behind. One of the shots punched through and struck Canlin in the leg. They grimaced but did not shout. It would not help to let their opponent(s?) know they had been hit. They reached forward instead and grabbed the gun of the person they had just shot in head. It had clattered to the floor, dropped at the moment of death. It wasn’t a hydrogen weapon, just a standard pistol. It would have to do.

They tried to avoid looking at the body of the boy in the center of the room and failed. Fen’s eyes met theirs, bloodshot and in pain. Canlin tried not to think about it and turned around the corner of the door on their good leg, firing four shots. Only one hit its mark. Canlin initially shot into empty space and had to correct while firing. The Goon was large and not hard to hit, but it’s really hard to hit someone when you don’t know where they are. The Goon tanked the shot and stumbled for a moment but did not go down. It didn’t even look like they were bleeding.

Unfortunately, now the guard knew exactly where they were too. At least there weren’t any other guards -- which probably meant that this group was very small. The Goon yelled, “You killed him! I’m going to kill you!” and threw their weapon to the side and tackled Canlin.

They tried to dodge the hulking monstrosity, but their wounded leg gave out from under them. All they could manage to say was “Uh-oh.” It was the lamest possible thing they could have said. They were probably going to die here and that was their response. Weren’t hard-boiled detectives always supposed to have a joke for every situation, no matter how dark things got? They hit the floor hard and their gun went flying. Their head began to swim again and they could definitely see spots.

The Goon pinned them down, one knee on each shoulder. Canlin struggled uselessly. The vampire grabbed their gun arm and activated their power. Canlin’s skin crept away from the Goon’s hand and revealed the muscle below. They grabbed the muscle and pulled. Pain shot up Canlin’s entire arm as they felt their own muscles rip and nerves disconnect. The opposing vampire’s own skin on their arm opened up and the vampire carefully placed it on their bicep. Canlin’s muscle fused with their own and the skin knit back up.

The vampire leaned down again and whispered in Canlin’s ear. “I’m going to make you pay. If you thought what we did to that boy was bad, what you will go through will be ten times worse. I’ll rip out every single one of your muscles and then I’ll crush your bones. Then once you finally think you can take no more, I’ll-”

The sound of a gunshot filled the air and both the Goon and Canlin looked at the source. Behind them, on the floor, Fen had somehow managed to move and pick up the gun. He rested the butt of it on the ground, and it was angled up at the Goon’s head.

“Why you little…!” the Goon snarled. They kicked off the ground still in the kneeling position, trying to tackle Fen before he could fire another shot. But Fen fired three more times. Two of those shots went into the Goon’s head and their body collapsed.

Fen hissed through a broken jaw, “gggetttt hhhheeeellllp.”

It took a moment for Canlin to process the words. Eventually they nodded and used the handle on the door to get up with their good hand. Balancing on their good leg, they stumbled out of the room. The hallway was still empty. No one else had come running. Canlin had expected everyone to run here. Maybe they were hiding, or maybe they weren’t even in the building. Whichever it was, Canlin was thankful for it.

The stairway went both up and down. Below they could see another door, closed. The stairs continued even further below that, but they couldn’t see past that point. They stumbled up what must have been over a hundred steps. There were no more hallways up here. They must have wanted to make sure that any screaming could not be heard from the surface. Eventually, they reached a slanted metal door that opened up into the woods.

Light poured in from the outside world. Canlin swung their body out and left the hellhole behind.