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CHAPTER EIGHT
( DREAM CRUSHER )

     AYSON AND AIDAN were scared; more so than any fear-facing time that they had ever experienced. Not only were they alone in this, but they were next. It was unknown as to if they would make it out or not, or who's trap was next. Anxiety was setting into Ayson Lee's heart, making her hands shake and her eyes water. What if Aidan was next? She wouldn't be able to watch.

"Come on sweetheart, we need to go," Aidan drags her into the next room, not yet closing the door. "Oh gosh, what is that?"

There was another bed— or a table, rather— sat up in the middle of the room. It was wide and flat, with no supporting pillows; it was made of metal, and looked extremely uncomfortable. But, of course, it wasn't made for comfort. On the ceiling was another thick, flat piece of metal. But this one had a square cut out at the top of it, which made Ayson furrow her eyebrows in confusion.

Aidan stops in his tracks, picking up the tape on the floor as Ayson continues to study the trap. There were six straps, outlining the figure of a person; two straps for the wrists, one for the neck, one for the waist, and the last two for ankles. Next to one of the wrist straps was a red button— she didn't want to know what it was for. But looking closer, she also realized that under the waist piece was a sliding sheet of metal; would it be possible for something to come out of it?

Aidan played the tape, clenching his eyes shut.

"Hello, Aidan. I want to play a game."

Ayson immediately wraps her arms around him, a choking sound leaving her lips. It was an unfinished sob; one that she didn't want to bother with. This was it. She would have to watch him die . . . no. He wouldn't die, she refused to admit that.

"As you exposed earlier, two months ago you took a drunk drive on the interstate with your trusting friends after a party. You had promised to be the designated driver that night, don't you remember? But from what the car scene looked like, it appeared as though you were a passenger, and not the driver responsible for the death of your closest friends after the crash.

"So how is it right that you knowingly rearranged their positions and made it seem as though they were in the front seats? The parents of the boy found in the driver's seat were devastated and disappointed in their son's supposed actions, and even came to you for a personal apology that night. Your friends had big dreams for their future, Aidan. And it's my job to see to it that you don't continue being a dream crusher.

"The trap in front of you is simple. Get strapped in, and the machine will automatically start up. Your task is to hold in the red button for a continuous thirty seconds, exposing the rusty nails that will be resting below your back. During that short period, they will be slowly pressing into your back, before being completely delved into your flesh. Don't worry— they won't touch any major areas unless you move too much. Once the thirty seconds is up, your straps will be released, and the nails will be removed. But that's a little too easy, isn't it?"

Aidan raps an arm around Ayson's waist, burying his face in her hair and biting the inside of his cheek. He could do this, he could do this.

"During your given time, the steel panel above you will be descending. Once it reaches you, it will continue to crush down until your body is entirely compressed underneath it. But, given the hole at the top, you will not die immediately— you will be able to feel as each bone breaks, up until the last one. However, if you complete your thirty-second task, it will ascend back to the ceiling and save you from the crush you may have gone through otherwise. You will have two minutes on the timer.

"So, Aidan, will you be able to inflict a little pain on yourself? Or will you die knowing you inflicted it upon your friends? The choice is yours."

Ayson's breaths get heavier, her lungs not quite working right. Aidan places his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up so that she'd have to look into his chocolate eyes. "Hey, babydoll, look at me. I'm gonna be okay, alright? We're gonna get out of here— both of us. So come help me get strapped in, and go sit down next to the door."

"But what if . . . I can't lose you," she murmurs, sucking in a sharp breath. "You can do this, Aidan. Make sure you come back to me."

Slowly but surely, she drops her grip on him, hugging her arms to herself. But something in Ayson's heart made her stop. It made her turn around, and go back to him. It made her place her soft hand on his cheek, and pull his lips down to meet hers.

And it was wonderful. It was everything she could've ever imagined— gentle and warm and sweet. The girl winds her fingers into his hair, without having a clue as to what she was even doing. Maybe it was in the heat of the moment, or knowing that there was a possibility Aidan wouldn't get out of this unfamiliar place.

Or maybe it was because he had supported her through this shortened version of hell. He was her angel, a saving grace that had kept her sane through the most harsh situation she's ever been in. He was everything she's been looking for, but under the worst circumstances possible.

Aidan didn't know how to react as they pulled back for a breath of air, his forehead touching hers as he runs his fingers through her smooth hair. "We're going to do things with our lives when we get out of here, sweetheart. You'll see."

And then he leads her over to the trap, laying down on the metal and waiting for Ayson to strap him in. She does so, hope flooding through her veins as she steps away from the boy.

"You can do this," she tells him, her brown eyes sparkling. "You can do this."

But as she was walking back to the door, the machine starting up with a whirr and the lasers falling down from the ceiling ahead of her, she realizes that she wasn't saying that to Aidan.

She was saying that to herself— to encourage her movement away as her heart breaks over leaving Aidan.

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