Egotistic - J.JK.

Thirty-One

One my foot hit the last rung of the ladder, I was on high alert. 

My eyes peered around the closed off kitchen, only the emergency lighting overhead shining down to cast ghostly shadows. Pots and pans were all over the floor along with broken pieces of glass and old food. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of the spoiled food, a wave of nausea rolling over my body. I tried not to make any sounds as my foot hit the floor at the shattered glass at the base of the ladder. 

I could remember all the hum in the compound when I had first arrived, but now there was nothing. It was dead silent except for the slight hum of the emergency lighting above. I could hear voices out of the room off in the distance, but they weren't screams or commands. It sounded like normal conversations between people with the slight march of steps with them.

The next thing my mind jumped to was Yoongi and Hoseok. I quietly tiptoed my way across the kitchen, avoiding anything noise provoking. I tried thinking of where Taehyung would keep Yoongi and Hoseok, but the only thing that came to mind was the solitary confinement-like rooms from when I had first entered the compound. I was going to have to get to the first floor to find the rooms. They had to be near the dorms, right?

I came to the door of the kitchen, opening it just a little to peer out into the cafeteria. I found no one to be there, the place more lit up than the kitchen. Trays were scattered around while blood covered some surfaces. I could hear voices out in the hall away from the place, them seeming to echo in the emptiness. 

While biting down on my lip, I slipped out of the kitchen and hurried to a beam near the edge of the room that would shield me from the door. Once I got there, I huddled myself to be small, looking around the room for any means of getting out without going out of the cafeteria doors. 

I spotted a vent off to the other side of the room just across from the beam I was at. There was another beam identical to mine next to it, which I could use to hide. I could easily slip into the vent at how large it was, but I was going to have to find a tool to open it and make my way over to that side of the cafeteria.

I could only think of one way to get to the vent.

I pressed myself against the beam hard for a second, sucking in a deep, quiet breath. I tried to focus on the voices outside. They didn't seem to be directly out of the room to where they would be able to see me. I peeked around the corner to test my theory, finding no one to be there. There was still no relief with seeing no one.

Taking in a giant breath and holding it, I bolted across the cafeteria, remaining low between the tables. I had to hop over some of the trays and ignore the blood and food mixed together beside them. It felt like it took forever to take that sprint of danger, but the voices never seemed to get closer and there were no shouts with them.

I made it over to the beam and gripped onto it, crouching down with quiet pants escaping me. It took me a second to regain my thoughts, my nerves on edge; though, they didn't have a kick to them. Last time in the compound, there had been that energy that coursed through the place that made the powers stronger. I was confused to why I wasn't feeling the edge of it, but I tried pushing the thought away.

Peeking back up, I looked over at the vents. I saw there were four screws at every edge, the plate at the front a shiny metal. I didn't have a screwdriver on me and I didn't want to go finding a janitor closet. I had to find another option to open up the vent.

I peered around my small area, finding still the silverware and trays. My brain twisted and turned, trying to ignore an argument bubbling up outside the cafeteria between two men. I spotted a knife near me, the utensil shiny but also covered in food. An idea hit me.

I crawled over to it for a second, gripped onto the hilt of the dull blade that was meant for butter, and brought it back over to me. I wiped off the food onto my jeans quickly, only for it to crust off after so many days of being stale. I bit down on my tongue to ignore the mess and crawled over to the vent with the knife in hand.

I started with the bottom left corner. I tried to be as silent as I could as I placed the tip of the knife onto the screw, finding it to be able to hold inside the crevice of the material. I started to spin it one way, finding it to be hard to do so. I tried the other way, finding myself to get a small loosen, then the knife slipping down from the sudden slackened screw. A small gasp escaped me as I grabbed onto the knife before it could hit the ground with a loud sound.

After that small accident, I learned my lesson on what way to turn the screws. One by one, they call came off and into my hand, the cold metal feeling like ice against my boiling palms. Soon enough, all were done and I had the vent cover coming off and onto the floor with ease. 

I placed the vent cover down on the dirty floor but shoved the screws into my back pocket of my jeans. It was always good to have something handy for later use. After doing all of that, I slipped into the vent and started to crawl while trying to make as little noise as I could.

Through the crawl in the vent, I took a few turns and ended up at a dead end that led upwards. I looked up to find it going up and another way. With caution, I tried getting to my feet and found the ledge to come up to my chest. I held a breath while getting up onto the new duct ledge, it taking a few seconds before I was up and crawling again through the tunnels.

I went by some vent covers, finding dark rooms to be held there, no sounds coming through at all. Though, while passing one after going up onto the higher duct, there was light coming through it with a loud voice. I remained silent as I came up to it, finding it to be at my left and just as large as the one in the cafeteria.

Peering through the slits of the vent cover, my jaw dropped with waves of emotions flowing over me.

I couldn't see the whole picture, but there was a chair off against one wall with a person sitting in it. It took me a second to recognize it was Hoseok's face that was battered and bloody. Though I didn't see any tears and just blood, I could hear small sobs coming from him. He was staring at something over to his right, his body frail and beaten.

I looked over to find a body off in the corner, seeing a familiar dark, faded purple-like color caked with blood. Yoongi was flat on his face, his body not moving an inch. His shirt was off, revealing slash marks all over his back. It took me a moment to see that his fingers were gone from his hand, leaving the small limbs around his body. He looked so much worse than Hoseok, and that was hard to say.

Then there was the thing that conquered over all the horror in the room: Taehyung.

His electric blue hair seemed a bit faded from it not being colored in a long time, his normal, casual attire on. Though, I could see half of his face. He frowned deeply--more with pure hatred--down at Hoseok and Yoongi. He was angry about something.

Taehyung started to talk with a loud, booming voice, but my ears blocked off his words as I crawled a little forward, hatred flowing through my veins. It only took me a second to kick and blow off the vent cover in a few tries, the room going silent from Taehyung's voice.

Now I was the one angry.