Super

64. true exit

The worst discovery Lucas had made so far was finding out that the house had a life of its own.

The first tremors under their feet hadn't been signs of collapse, unlike what he had first assumed them to be. Seconds after Irene had left, the ground itself had begun to heave, the corridors shifting and turning like they had been inspired by Hogwarts staircases, and not in a good way. At all.

The group had dispersed into chaos, the boys grabbing the first thing they could find for support, which had resulted in the group of six being broken up into pairs and trios. Lucas had barely registered what had happened—all the throwing around and trying to stay on his feet had made him lose sight of his surroundings, and the next thing he knew was that he was alone.

He straightened, taking in his new and changed environment. It still seemed like he was inside the mansion. The carpet under his feet was the same, but instead of the balcony he seemed to be standing in a long, seemingly endless hallway. It was echoingly silent, giving away no indication of what had happened to the others, but if he concentrated hard enough, he could hear a dull throb like a heartbeat all around him. It was as if the walls were alive with it, a pulsating beat like a real heart—as if the house were a person and he was standing inside its heart.

Lucas swallowed back his fear. This was no time to worry about himself, especially when his friends were all who-knows-where in this godforsaken house. The knowledge that Taeyong had jumped didn't help, either, even if Shao had leaped after him. Maybe they were both dead now, long lost to the raging fire, but there was no way to know what had happened.

He took a few shallow breaths to calm his racing heart before starting forward. His pant leg was badly torn, and being tossed around by a temperamental building had opened up the stitches in his side, which didn't make for ideal walking conditions. Lucas had managed to ignore his injuries so far (it hadn't been hard, given the crazy stuff that had been thrown at them one after the other) but now that he was alone with no immediate danger in sight, they were impossible to overlook.

It had been long since he'd been out on a job, but he remembered the basic instructions for being stranded without your team. Look for immediate threats: so far, there didn't seem to be any. Assess damages: yep, those were pretty hard to disregard. Take inventory: all he had was his torn-up suit and an assortment of knives lining the inside of his jacket, though he doubted those were going to be any use against a solid wall.

He stopped at the end of the corridor.

Instead of a door, the hallway ended in a maze. The choices to turn to seemed endless, multiple corridors emerging from the mouth and snaking in different directions. Lucas took exactly six seconds to think about which one to choose. Then he realized they were all equally dangerous and randomly picked one.

The corridor seemed to extend forever, twisting and turning and leading him nowhere. Lucas had ripped away the torn part of his pant leg in hopes of his blood leaving a trail, but whenever he turned, it was gone. It was as if the house was wiping up after him, both chiding his carelessness and telling him there was nothing he could do.

The corridor also got progressively darker as he went on, until he was standing in a spot so dim he could barely make out his own feet. Lucas leaned against the plastered wall in despair, overcome by his hopelessness and worry and exhaustion.

"Come on," he said aloud, mostly to reassure himself that his voice still worked. "Think."

Nothing. No sign from the heavens, not a single lightbulb moment to save his life. He was used to using whatever his surroundings gave him to get out, but this was just and endless nothing, the same path over and over like he was going in circles.