No Way Out ➵ John Murphy

03 //

THREE.
❝i'm a creep, i'm a weirdo; what the hell am i doing here? i don't belong here.❞

Living with Murphy wasn't as terrible as she had perceived it to be. He kept to his side of the bed as promised and she didn't use all of the hot water. Compromise was key. Layla flung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. She tried to be quiet since Murphy was still sleeping. She wasn't sure what morning this was: three, four or five. Every day had just become a jumbled blur of the same routine.

Layla grabbed a change of clothes and flung them on before heading to the kitchen. The food stored in the bunker was bland; instant noodles, metal cans with weird meats and vegetables, junk food, and packets of oatmeal plus little things in between. That was to be expected, everything down here was meant to last. Layla had welcomed a routine of oatmeal and wine for breakfast.

Feeling generous, Layla boiled enough water for herself and Murphy, mixing him some oatmeal too.

Murphy groggily made his way to the kitchen and Layla pushed a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of wine towards him.

Murphy eyed it suspiciously. "You didn't lace this with Drain-O or anything so you could have the bed to yourself, did you?"

Layla frowned and folded her arms, disappointed he didn't appreciate her opting to be nice.

"No," she said, glaring in his direction. "But thanks for the tip. I'll remember it for next time."

Murphy dug into his breakfast without another word and now that he was up, Layla had no qualms about blasting the stereo, which she did right away.

Layla didn't know a single song title or artist in the entire bunkers discography. It didn't matter, after almost a week she had taken a liking to them. Layla started to eat the bowl of oatmeal she made for herself, swaying and humming to the beat of the song she turned on.

Murphy stared at her unimpressed. "You know," he mumbled. "When I got stuck in here with you I didn't expect you to be so chipper."

"I don't know why you're not," she shrugged. "We have television, music, a shower, a bed, food. That's plenty to be happy about."

"Yeah," Murphy said with a nod. "But there's just a teeny bit of information you left out there. We're trapped in here and will inevitably die."

Layla glanced down, looking at her food that she was so thankful to have in front of her but yet it was a painful reminder that food was not unlimited and she knew Murphy was right.

"You really have a gift for putting a damper on everything." Layla picked up her breakfast and ventured back to their shared bedroom and shut the door, leaving Murphy to eat by himself.

That was the last time she was doing something nice for him.

Not too long after, Layla stopped holing herself up in their bedroom to toss her dishes in the sink. She caught a glimpse of Murphy sitting on the couch watching something. As she inched closer, Layla saw the time stamp that marked what was on the television as a home video. She recognized the man from the suicide but there was also another person in this video: a girl, very pale with long black hair and piercing blue eyes.

Layla must have made a noise because Murphy paused the video and whipped around.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Layla said, taken aback by how defensive his tone was. "I was just seeing what was on TV. Why are you still watching those videos? They're sick."