A Beautiful Reflection From Firework Eyes

I'd Rather Kill The One Responsible For Falling Stars At Night

"Something is wrong," I whisper.

"What?" Kellin asks. I don't know how to explain it, but staring at the door to the Dark Room, chills run down my spine, a voice whispering beware, in the back of my mind. I shake my head. It's probably just my nerves. Seeing the Dark Room always does this to me. I'm probably overthinking. Still, unease prickles under my skin.

"Probably nothing," I say. "Let's get out of here."

I take a deep breath before I yank open the door, pulling Kellin with me into the Dark Room. We both jump in surprise as the lights flick on. They must have been motioned activated, though that doesn't quite seem right. In all the times I've been here, I've never seen the lights in the Dark Room on. Actually, I didn't even know it had lights.

It's honestly more disturbing than I thought it would be. Not because of any hideous blood stains or disfigured bodies. Because of how normal it looks. If I didn't know better, I'd think I'd stumbled upon some sort of training rooms, blue padding layered against the walls. Except for the shackles lying in the center of the room, it looks so normal. Shockingly ordinary. No one would ever expect what has gone on here.

Kellin squeezes my hand once, comforting me as we cross the room. His touch is enough to calm my racing heart as I squeeze his hand back. It's enough to make me move, heading for the back wall. I try not to look at the chains, a shiver running through me. I spent too many nights here, screaming and struggling. As if guessing what I'm thinking about, Kellin glances over at me, his eyes worried.

"It's okay," he whispers, the sound of his voice soothing me.

Just like Gerard said, there's a door wedged beneath the layers of padding. I pry up the blue covering, revealing the handle protruding from the wall. I try the handle. It's locked.

"Shit," I mutter, twisting it again.

"What?" Kellin asks.

"It's locked." My breaths are coming faster, fear clouding my head. I run my hands up and down the door frame, hoping to find a lever or something. It's not supposed to be locked. Gerard said it wasn't.

"What?" Kellin tries it too. "Shit. What do we do?"

I pound on the door, hoping someone will hear us. There's no answer. "I can try to melt out through the door. It might be too thick, though." I give a helpless shrug. This is our only way out. If we can't get through, then we'll have to fight our way out through the front. There's no way we can do that. Not with all the guards. Not in my weakened state.

The door slams behind us, making us both jump. I rush toward the door, slamming my hands against it as I struggle to open it. No. This can't be happening. My chest tightens as I struggle to open the door, pounding my fists against it. We're trapped in the Dark Room. Our precious little time is running out. This can't be happening. I see the shapes of the guards rushing down the hallway toward us. My flames must have died out. Then how did the door close?

A shape steps into view, and I back up, pushing Kellin behind me. Mr. Styles stands in the door window, in front of us. My blood runs cold at the sight of him as I back up more, nearly tripping over the chains lying on the ground. No. This isn't happening right now. He meets my eyes, a strange expression crossing his face—almost anger and betrayal, almost regret. For a moment, none of us move, frozen as we take in each other. Finally, he holds up his hand, and I almost think he waves at me before I see what he's holding a white switch before he flicks it.

My senses scream as he does so—now I know what they were warning me about. "No!" I scream, diving toward Kellin. The room around us explodes in a burst of beautiful oranges, reds, and grays, the impact of the explosion knocking every thought clean from my mind.