Jamilton Oneshots :)

還願: homecoming [Jamilton]

trigger warning! - child abuse, mentioned child neglect, GORE, lots of blood, kinda not for the weak hearted basically.

alternative title :if it's too good to be true, don't take it. also stay away from the wrong side of religion.

every action has an equal opposite reaction. that is the definition of 'you get what you give'. he's not sure if this particular collision of fates with alexander was a reaction or an action, and even if all that holds true, he's not a stranger to loss.

he can only hope he wasn't too late.

trust that everything else is irrelevant for him.

~
this damn key won't fit, or maybe his hands are too shaky. his heart is racing, and the lights are flickering. another flicker prompts him to run.

the fear is all-consuming, and it doesn't help that he's suddenly in a very long hallway.

turning around, he sees a dark silhouette following him. the flickering lights aren't helping.

what sort of horror movie cliche is he stuck in?

just run! his senses scream at him, and the instinct kicks in.

he bangs over the first door he sees, and each hallway prompts another door.

he runs, and he doesn't know where he's going, left, right, left?

that door's already open.

shit.

the other way, then.

it feels like tunnel vision. he can hear his heart hammering, even more so when he bangs yet another door open.

another door kicked open.

and another.

how many fucking doors are there?

another door busts open, and he's in another hallway that looks identical.

there's some sort of unearthly screaming behind him all this time.

whatever that is, it's inhuman.

he kicks open another door.

and another.

he almost trips over a random garbage bag.

at this point, he feels trapped.

why do all of the hallways look the same?

trash bags, empty furniture, the ghastly fluorescent lights that barely light up the whole corridor,

another door.

and another.

another door kicks open under the force.

he can feel his legs screaming in protest.

another door kicked open, and finally, he hears what might be his salvation.

the elevator ding.

the doors slide open. he's finally going to get out of this dammed hell he's found himself in.

he trips over a garbage bag. his vision turns bloody. the acrid smell of the garbage assaults his senses.

holy guanyin. is this the smell of death?

with difficulty, he leaps out of the garbage heap, stumbling into the elevator and slamming his fist into the 'close door' button.

the doors won't close.

it slides closed, but something is jamming it open.

the figure appears, made creepier by the warm, thick liquid sliding down his face and tinting his vision with an alarming red.