Confidentiality

Chapter 37

Janus felt like he could barely breathe.

The pain in his ankle had blossomed into a throbbing ache that remained consistently present. His running had turned into walking, which had turned into limping. He was hobbling along, hand pressed to the wall to keep him from collapsing to the ground.

To make things worse, he was absolutely terrified out of his mind. He wasn’t sure how far he needed to go to lose his mother and the villains. It felt like nowhere would be far enough. He wanted to give up, to just fall onto the ground and wait for the inevitable. But a small part of him kept him going, pushing him to finally do something for himself.

His whole life, Janus had been under his mother’s thumb, this was the first time he was ever truly defying her. 

It did not feel as liberating as he thought.

In fact, it somehow felt even more stifling. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been running. It felt like forever, but he got the feeling it was only about forty-five minutes. He had run for longer and faster, but his ankle made him feel like he could barely go on. 

Sweat dripped down his face, pooling at the bottom of his mask. His breathing came out wheezy and shallow, his lungs begging him to stop and rest. He couldn’t, though. Every time he stopped, even for just a moment, he swore he could hear footsteps behind him. He wasn’t sure if there actually were footsteps, or if it was his paranoid mind playing tricks on him.

Janus could feel eyes watching him from every direction, though he couldn’t tell if he was just imagining things. He was in a neighborhood, so perhaps someone was watching him. He hoped it wasn’t someone affiliated with the villains, no doubt news of his betrayal would be reaching the public by tomorrow. 

He was dizzy, and his head felt cloudy with pain. So, it was no surprise when he fell to the ground, adrenaline unable to support him any longer. He tried to get up again, but it only ended with him collapsing under his own weight. 

He laid there on the sidewalk, vision beginning to blur. The pain in his ankle slowly began to dull as his senses faded, eyelids drooping shut. 

---

When Janus woke up, his head throbbed immediately. He groaned lowly, bringing his hand up to his head.

He tried to, at least, but his hands were tied to the chair he was sitting on.

He was sitting on a chair?

He blinked his eyes open, finding himself in an unfamiliar house, tied to a dining chair that had been placed in the center of the living room, positioned right in front of the couch. The place looked normal, but no pictures were present to give him a clue as to who the house belonged to. The room was also dark, the only light coming from a street lamp outside the window. 

The pain in his ankle was beginning to reignite as well, causing him to grit his teeth.

A surge of fear overtook him. Did the villains find him? Was he in a room at the base he had never been in? There were plenty of rooms that met that description. Perhaps he was in Cruella or Gothel’s room. 

Footsteps were approaching the room, and Janus froze. His heart seized in his chest, panic causing his breathing to grow heavy. 

He was more than a little surprised when a woman walked into the room, a shotgun in her hands. 

She froze when she realized he was awake. “You’re up.” She murmured. 

Janus tilted his head. The woman was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t recall where he knew her from. “What’s going on?” He asked, feigning bravery. “What is this?”