Crimson

II- Chapter 53: Putting Out Fires with 3 Litres of Gasoline

A sliver of moonlight flashed across the blood on her shaky hands. She looked up at Roman, breathless. Helpless. Motionless on the damp floor of the lair.

Roman backed up against the dry wall, rocking the ladder he'd just slid down, muttering inaudible words of caution. Above, the moonlight shone like a beacon behind Roman's head- the only way out- and the halo of light glowed bright enough for you to see the full length of Roman's fangs.

"Roman- it's okay, I'm fine, it's just a little-"

"You need to go, you need to leave-" Roman interrupted, jerking his head around. "No. We need to... get you...
out of here."

Instinctively you backed up, twisting your head behind you only to find a corridor of endless black. When your eyes shot forward, Roman was gripping the ladder, his shoulders expanding with ragged breath. His eyes burned into yours.

"Everything is going to be... absolutely fine," you said. Another step back. "I'm just going to... head back to the dorm, and we'll talk later, okay?"

"Y/n."

Roman snapped a leg off the ladder.

"Yes?"

"Run."

You stifled your scream with your bloody hand as Roman plunged the chunk of ladder deep in his thigh. You ran.

Barreling through the void, hands up, narrowly dodging sharp corners, was not something Jack or Maurice prepared you for. You weren't trained to see in the dark, and the last time you were here, Roman lit the way. This was the same lair, only there was no music. And this was the same Roman. Only now, nothing was in either of your heads except for the shallow sound of your breathing. Both only listening for the other.

The thud of your hand against the door shook you awake. You frantically struck the wood, feeling for a handle and praying it wasn't locked.

"Y/n......"

Turn already!

You blew through the doors, into broader darkness. The light. There had to be a light somewhere. A light and an exit.

Holding your breath with every inch of your lungs, you combed the area, desperate for your memory to recall the layout of the space. The floor was stone. There were definitely lights on the walls... but none were on. You thought you were prepared for this, but if Roman couldn't trust himself, you definitely couldn't trust him.

Right when your eyes started adjusting to the darkness, making out the shadowy figure of the corner booths and tables, you were forced to recall just how short the walk from the forest entrance to the lair itself was. Roman was already here.

"Y/n... I really don't want to hurt you," he said as a flame erupted from his open palm and lit his deranged face.

"I don't want you to hurt me either," you replied, backing away.

"Not just because I want my memory back," he said, taking a long step forward. "I've enjoyed your company."

The bloody wound on his school uniform had already begun to heal. Why were you so terrified? Wasn't this the way to help him?

"It's not your fault... just like it's not my fault," he said calmly. "It's just a shame there's so little I can do about it."

"Roman... you're not like the others, you have self-control," you said, backing into something hard. Your eyes flung to the bar counter and back at Roman. "Look... I'm sure there's something to drink here!"

Roman stepped close enough for the flame to illuminate the gap between you. He shook his head.

"Y/n... I don't want anything else. I've wanted this for a long time."