solomon's lament | completed | final product under editing

| five | this deal won't kill me, right?

Sometime ago, Margot had her whole life planned out. She'd go to school, maybe meet a really cute girl and marry her, get a job as a vet, and live in a really cute two-story with a dog.

She sees none of that now, just a street glistened with rain. It was awhile ago when the girls had decided to slow down from their running. Oy, it was a good thing Margot was good at running. Isla?

Uh, oh look! A butterfly!

The green jacket on Isla is a bit small on her, but she doesn't seem to mind. "Any plan yet, Margot?" she asks in a small voice, and Margot isn't sure she wants to answer at first.

"For now... We'll just have to see." But just as she utters that, someone from across them yells, "Hey, it's those two! They're the ones who escaped. Get 'em!" And thus the chase from a butcher holding a large knife began.

Not the kind of Friday evening you'd expect, but oh well.

The chase kind of got to a point where it attracted a lot of other people, and while there were plenty of close calls, it was pretty easy to run through the town, in between alleyways, and right near the town border which was surrounded by a lush forest. Margot, having now run out of energy, finally fell on her knees, hands balling up fistfuls of dirt.

Isla bends down to her level. "Hey, are you alright?" She whips her head around to see if there's anyone out there besides them.

"F-Fine," Margot stammers out, breath coming out laboured and hurting her chest. "We should- keep going." Ah, she remembers now. This was why she couldn't be on the track team. She didn't meet the requirements because she always ran out of breath at the very last minute. Very cruel, universe.

Isla extends a hand out for Margot, who has trouble keeping a firm grip as she hoists herself up, staggering at the last step. Her legs feel like jell-o. "You need to rest; you've been tiring yourself out too much today."

Margot shakes her head. "They'll find us."

"If you faint from exhaustion, they'll also find us," Isla argues sternly. "Now, come on. We're gonna take a break so you can rest up." Margot opens her mouth to object, but doesn't have the energy as the young Mills drags her by the wrist through the trees. They feel less ominous as the one surrounding the exit of the town hall.

Normally, Margot would be freaking out, since Isla-frickin'-Mills is engaging physical contact, but she was hardly keeping her eyes open. She'd freak out later when they weren't about to die.

Eventually, the two reach a vacant cave that didn't appear there before, in which Margot finds use for her purple flashlight. She shines the pale yellow light against the cave walls, which are damp and gritty to the touch. It's not the best place, but for now it works as Margot finally frees her shoulders of her heavy backpack, which she sets on the ground and leans her head against as a pillow. Her eyes shut, but she feels Isla's pinned on her.

"How are you feeling?" she asks softly, as if the question would shatter Margot if it wasn't asked carefully. Margot doesn't offer more than a neutral hum, not wanting to answer.

"I'd say she's not having a great time at all!"

Margot's eyes pop open at the the unfamiliar voice, and her head darts up. The sudden movement causes her vision to swim for a brief moment, but she ignores it as she tenses up. One hand snakes its way over one of the backpack strapd while the other protectively around Isla's wrist. The voice was that of an excited male, except the sound wasn't very clear. It kind of sounded like it was mixed with TV static.

"Who's there?" Margot calls out, her brown eyes just daring whatever was out there to make a move.

"Oh, ouch! I'm so hurt by how defensive you are over me. I'm merely someone who wants to help you," the voice continues teasingly, and somehow its proposition makes perfect sense to Margot. It's weird, almost as if his tone was actually hypnotizing her.

"I'm sorry, but we don't have much reason to trust anyone right now," Isla reasons, her brows furrowed as she exchanges a confused glance with Margot.

"How tragic. You've found out the truth and your reward is being on the run. It's a sad reality, isn't it?"

"You know about what killed those kids tonight?" Margot questions, her voice rising hopefully.

"Why, of course I do. The Singer," the voice replies, not adding any further context.

Margot's lips purse together. "That was in the thing Mom signed..." she mutters to herself, before referring to whoever was in the cave with them. "Can you tell us more?"

"Oh, I would, but I'm afraid your time is running out." Both girls can almost hear the voice smirking as loud comments from behind them suddenly sound clearer.

"Look, footprints that lead over here! Find them, quickly!"

"Oh, no." The colour quickly drains from Isla's face, and Margot quickly whips her head around in what she assumes to be the direction of the voice.

"Please help us! We can't sit her idly while they decide on the next victims!" Her heart felt small, and it seemed to shrink even more so as the people who were after them were approaching much quicker, slender shadows casting over the light that shined from Margot's device.

"I'll let you go in exchange for a deal." There it was again; the sound of that voice smiling. The young Solomon bites back the increasing anxiety.

"Wh-What deal...?" Isla questions, attempting to sound calm, but her heart beats a mile a minute.

"All I ask is you find something for me. I'll take you to that place where it is, which is safe and you cannot be harmed. But if you don't find it, I fear you won't live very long, and your lost souls will roam for the rest of eternity." At this, he sounds almost sympathetic. Does he really want to help or does he want whatever this thing is?

More shouting. "The risks are just..." Margot sighs, eyes screwed shut as she internally debates with her gut screaming no at her.

"But if we don't, we won't be able to help the next batch of victims..." Isla brings up in a hesitant tone, glancing at her lap. The voice is silent, but the people outside aren't.

Finally, Margot's eyes open with a profound determination. "Deal," she announces, and the voice chuckles.

"I thank you kindly, Solomon and Mills. Your sacrifices will not be in vain." Before either girl can really process what was said, both find themselves collapsing on the ground, vision darkening and breath slowing down.

Officially unconscious, the voice chuckles again. "Good luck, girls. You'll truly need it."

And the flashlight's lightbulb flickers on the two, almost immobile figures before its light ceases, rendering the cave in complete and utter darkness.