Escape the Night

Setting the Stage

Kristen's P.O.V

The small brown figure emerged from the hovering mist, shaking from stifled sobs.

My heart sank deep below the mud as realisation set in. David's gone.

One of our oldest YouTube friends gone, just like that.

It had to be one of them, I knew that--and I'm beyond happy that Liza's still here with me of course. But... I guess a part of me still hoped it wasn't the case, that there was a chance they could both make it out--they could survive together. I guess not.

Liza ran into my arms, rubbing a layer of wet earth onto the sleeves of Scott's jacket and the front of my gown. The only clean sections of flesh that were visible were the new streaks on her face, and I noticed drops of red casually merging with the disgusting protective coat.

"Liza," I breathed, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. "I'm so, so sorry; I..." I trailed off, tears threatening to fall. Don't think; don't think! Silence surrounded us, suffocating yet required as I clutched her and she clutched me. Everyone around us either thought about him or respected the rest of us enough to remain quiet for us.

A reasonable amount of time later, we finally broke apart, me continuing to hold her shoulders. She had calmed her breathing, and finally met my eyes from beyond the all natural face mask. "Let's go get you cleaned up," I suggested softly with a small smile, and she nodded.

*****

After a long and strenuous process with her hovering over the sink limb by limb in the claustrophobically small restroom adjacent to the main entrance, Liza was mostly free of all remaining dirt. She held her head under the running taps and I gently rubbed her scalp until the water ran clear once again, before handing her one of the towels Azzy had given us for her hair. I ran a flannel under the water and applied it to the number of wounds on her arm and body. The bleeding had generally stopped, which was good as we didn't have any bandages or anything by means of a first aid kit.

Now, with a towel wrapped around her head like a turban and the other around her body, she dug through the scrap remains of her outfit, which was stained two shades of brown; one from the mud and one from the drying blood.

"T-this was on his b-bod-dy," she stuttered, revealing a bloodied note. She looked down avoiding my gaze as I gently took it and read it.

"Oh," I said. What do I say to that? "I... guess we should tell the others?"

She nodded and we headed out and into the lounge for what felt like the hundredth time this night.

All eyes turned our way as we entered, and I didn't like the attention.

"Are you alright Liza?" Scott asked getting up to wrap his arm around her protectively and guiding her to a seat. He's so thoughtful of others, and that's one reason why I love him.

"Yeah," she mumbled gratefully, her arms wrapped around her chest to keep the towel secure. Before the silence settled, she added "erm... David..." Emotion forced her to pause, and she took a deep breath to recompose herself. "David said to say...that he's sorry, Adi. That he was sorry."

Her head dropped to look down at her lap; we all watched as a single tear slid down her cheek, landing on the towel. I shifted my focus to the dark haired boy. His cold eyes glinted with rage.

"It's a bit late for that, really," he stated. Cristina put her hand on his shoulder and he looked at her before sinking back into the sofa's pillows. My stomach clenched as the tension hung heavy in the room.

Time passed slowly; ticking echoed from the clock; no one spoke again for what seemed like an eternity.

It was time to move on.