Random. (Fever dreams from the underworld, and possibly beyond.)

Burn It All (1/2) (TFK.)

A soft smile, you could feel it even in the abyss.

"Y/N..."

The strike of a match.

The darkness was clean cut by the spitting sparks that flew off of the match before bursting into a single flame. The flickering fire lit up the soft features of Octane's face, framed by darkness as sticky, char black war paint dripped over her eyelid before traveling down the rest of her face.

Her voice, it was oddly creamy, suspiciously calm. Her stance you could not see, but you could tell it was lax, nonchalant, whilst you stood rigid and afraid, almost shaking is the stale night.

The match fell to her other hand, where a freshly unwrapped cigar lay fitted between two fingers, taking a second to breathe the flames in before giving in to its lusting ember, smoldering gently as it was raised to her softly curved lips. Stolen, you could tell by the golden wrapping that circled the cigar near the tip, a brand label you could always find peeking out from Big Boss' pocket on rough nights.

Octane extinguished the bubbling life of the match with a quick snap of her fingers, giving way to a lazy sigh as she inhaled deeply, causing her eyes to gloss over in euphoria.

"Why don't you run?" She prompted, parting her lips just barely to let the cloud of smoke escape, which danced along your cheeks with its choking aroma. You gave a short cough but little else, taking a small step closer as your eyes drew back a little, trying to match her natural intimidation.

"I..." You began, tracing a small line in the small pool of liquid that'd gathered just below your feet, rolling your neck before finishing your sentence. "Know you won't do it..."

Your voice however, lacked any of the confidence found in your words, shaky and insecure. Octane did nothing but offer a snide laugh in response, wiping her brow in response to the glimmering heat.

"I won't do it?" She asks dully, as another laugh escaped her throat. "You think I came all this way to throw in the towel, right here?"

Your breath hitched but she made no mind, simply dragging her tongue across her straightened white teeth before offering a dismissive click, bracing her ever shortening cigar against the space where her top and bottom lip met at a gentle crease.

"I'm offering you this chance, because I don't want any trouble, you see?" She explains. "You can check out right now, move on with your life, and forget this place. Don't think I like you or anything, you just happened to be in the right place at the right time, and I'm showing you a little mercy."

You swallowed hard as her words clogged your lungs. Again you shifted your feet in the puddle below, but this time you also dropped your gaze to it, as black as the night that surrounded you and the maniacal schemer.

Oil, and lots of it. It seemed to go on endlessly, a envelope of last regards that covered the ground for as far as your vision allowed you to see. A death sentence.

And in front of you, the Grim Reaper.

"You could try and awaken someone, tell them what I'm doing, but that would be rather foolish, don't you think? I have no choice but to give you the option, however..."

She sighs and dismisses the cigar from her lips along with another cloud, instead rolling it in her gloved hand to preserve it's ember. Her gaze was passive, allowing you to soak in the silence, and weigh your options. You didn't know what to do. You were at a loss either way, and she knew it. It's practically what got her off, that one. A top tier sadist with a ruthless appetite.

"Y/N, I suggest you make up your mind if you want a chance at either." She spoke, that same liquids tone that sent a chill up your already rigid spine. "This cigar is gonna burn it all, and the flames aren't nearly as nice as me."

She took a step closer, to the point where your eyes were clearly reflected in her own, glinting and stern. An anti-hero, just like she'd always said.

"It's gonna burn," She repeated, balancing the cigar upright now, on two fingers, tempting fate with every alluring flex of her fingers. "With or without you."

Her voice lost that smooth edge and was replaced with malice, allowing a ring of smoke to dance threateningly across her lips as she began to twist the cigar towards the ground, keeping her eyes locked deep into you as she moved.

And you did it.

You ran.

But the question is, in which direction?

---

Author's note: As you can see above, this is a two part story. However, you, the reader, decides what happens next. Vote in the comments wether you want to have at escape or try saving the complex from destruction.

It's in your hands, now.

-Fiddle.