10 Years Ago

Her luscious lips fidgeted over the warm porcelain mug, tracing the intricate details that stood slightly higher than the mug itself. Its pink base boasted patterns of the cherry blossom, something Carmen hadn't seen outside of pictures. The twirls of smoke emanating from the hot chocolate felt more enticing than the succulent drink. 

Carmen had been... happy. 

She was forced to see her grandmother every weekend - the sour bits of any week - courtesy of her father. Unbeknownst to himself, he had put his mother on a pedestal for caring for his daughter when he couldn't. Of course, Carmen knew otherwise. 

Her grandmother was a little cuckoo, so unlike her father whom she was growing to love. She hardly understood where he had been all these years - something about a room entrapped by bars - but at least he was sane. 

Carmen had often accompanied her grandmother on her tarot card trips. Each time, she sat in a corner, cringing at the odd faces the old woman made. She touched strangers' palms, blabbering on for hours on end as a line of customers trickled into her eldritch stall. Carmen didn't hear a great deal of what she said, but there was one word that stood out. 

Misfortune. 

She got up from her cosy spot, nestled between the plush sofa and the solid wall, and set her mug on the coffee table. Her grandmother had come for their weekly get-together. Carmen sometimes pondered why her grandmother enjoyed spending time with her.

As Carmen looked at her grandmother at the door, she realized that she appeared older. The bags under her eyes glistened as the light reflected off the salt water that surrounded her eyes. She was taking short, sharp breaths, indicating that she had run to meet Carmen.

That's odd. Old women can't run, Carmen reasoned. 

After gasping for air, her grandmother suddenly collapsed to the ground. Carmen quickly rushed to her side, unsure of what to do. Although her father was skilled at calming people down, Carmen had not yet learned this technique from him. 

So, she smiled. Her father's eyes always crinkled with joy at the sight of her dark lips turning upwards when she cracked a joke. 

"What's wrong, Grandma?" she asked. 

Her grandma's fingers curled around Carmen's bare shoulders almost instantly, her long nails digging into Carmen's smooth arms. A guttural wail escaped from her throat, causing Carmen to recoil at the wretched sound. 

"Your father was at work, at the construction site," her grandmother said, hiccuping through every word, "Some idiot, he didn't do his job correctly. He let something fall."

Carmen kept her distance from the woman, afraid that her large and intimidating hands would cause harm once more. 

"Your father's dead, Carmen," her grandmother screamed. 

Carmen struggled for breath, her head falling to the ground as her vision blurred and her grandmother's voice faded with each passing moment. She was unaware of her surroundings and her own body. Despite collapsing to the floor, she couldn't feel anything. Her heart slowed down and so did her thoughts, fighting to piece together the images of her loving father. 

The world was a blank notebook with pages in black. Carmen turned around the room for the first signs of light but there were none. She was trapped inside the book, unable to find the tools to write herself out and unable to poke a hole through the pages. 

She was an author without a pen, eclipsed without the light.

What were the last words they spoke to each other? Did he know that she loved him regardless of the fact that he brought his mother around every weekend?

When was the last time she had hugged him?

The hushed noises that encircled her seemed to emerge from a myriad of people but she couldn't see. The pieces of him she tried to glue together became more unlikely than a dream; his death had erased his memory. 

With only her grandmother in her life yet again, the world punished her with a life sentence for a grandmother-fulfilled life. Only this time, her father would never return. He would never teach her to cheer someone up. 

But her grandmother would teach her everything she knew. 

Misfortune. 

𓆩⟡𓆪

The sounds of chewing, amplified by the fact that there were no other sounds in the room, came to rest as the seventh chip entered Rylen's body. He rubbed his stomach soon after, a new habit that he seemed to have picked up. 

As he stared at his acquaintances, he didn't dare to feel hope, afraid of what was to come in case it crumpled in front of his eyes. He knew he had been absent for the entirety of the others' discussion and it peeved him to remember his lost and recalcitrant self.

The morning of 16th October 2023 loomed over his shoulder, reminding him to be of use. He knew that once Zane and Carmen gobbled down the last pieces of chips, they would be ready to find a way out. Zane would berate them until they found something whereas Carmen would leave snide remarks, indirectly pushing Rylen to do as she said.

He had no choice but to believe that Raven would take care of herself. He had seen how well Adara had handled the pressure, at least up until she knew her uncle was behind her predicament. If he believed Adara was anything like Raven, she must be okay. 

She must, Rylen thought, repeating those words in his head. 

Standing up, he paced around the room, his eyes inadvertently finding their way towards the camera. He often noticed Carmen look over at the small device, the slightest hints of a shiver coursing through her body. 

Although he had been lost, he had tried to catch up on details. He found himself going down a path of uselessness; everything he tried found a way to become futile. 

He froze near the camera as gravity pulled him towards the others. It took everything in him to not crash into them and break down under the hope that the tears could wash away his state of constant worry. Instead, he stood where he was and continued to observe - Adara playing with her hair to forget the revelations of the previous day. Zane looked past Rylen and stared at the camera, his eyebrows creased. Carmen stared at Adara, her queer attitude from the previous day staining into the current day. 

It was as if each of them halted in between their thoughts, not making a single move. A sliver of a conversation seemed to pass through the thick air, bouncing off the lips of the three that remained seated. Once again, Rylen was at the edge of the colloquy - so close and yet so far. 

You did this to yourself, he chided. 

After what felt like an eternity, Carmen rose up. She walked away from the vicinity of the camera and the others followed on cue. Intending for his feigned solidarity to bring back his competence, he marched on over. 

"It's the day we've been waiting for," Carmen began, her voice low. Although it was the beginning for everyone, her oddly sympathetic eyes rested on Adara. 

"I know," Adara said, "You know you needn't worry. I'll be fine. I had a few hours of sleep and I never liked Nikson much anyway."

Rylen sighed. Adara was putting on a brave face and everyone in the room could see it. Verily, that only increased the admiration he had for Adara. She wasn't the fragile and innocent girl he felt the need to protect. At least, not anymore. 

If anything, that was a sign that he needed to up his game. 

"I don't know how much time we have. I didn't really pay attention to the entire announcement that the Wi-Fi providers made," Adara confessed. 

"It's fine. As long as we are out of the camera's reach, we should be okay. Besides, now's as good a time as any," Carmen said. 

"We'll have to hope that he doesn't have access. Even then, keep your voices down. In case he did change his WiFi, we don't need him listening to what we say," Zane completed. 

"But what exactly would we look for?" Rylen asked.

"Anything. Anything that could get us out of this stupid, unimpressive theatre," Adara said, her teeth gritted. 

That was all they said. Moments during Zane's instructions, he found himself yearning for the affirmation of others, words of good luck. But they all parted ways, taking each one of the four walls as they tried to dodge the camera as much as possible. 

But Rylen couldn't keep quiet, "We'll find a way out. I know it."

Those words were never acknowledged but they brought the four of them in unity. The words brought a mixed sense of relief and confidence which they hoped to carry for the entire day. 

Carmen stayed on the right side of the room, avoiding the door to freedom in case her urge to open it gave away her attempts to break free. Instead, she focused on the chairs and floors, crawling under them despite her long legs getting caught in the short legs of the recliners. Her voluminous curls, which now resembled a bird's nest, kept finding their way to her mouth and she indignantly pushed them away. 

Meanwhile, Zane positioned himself at the rear of the room, where he kept watch over the camera. He adopted Carmen's strategy by kneeling down, searching for any possible escape routes or tools that could assist them in their predicament. Perhaps they could find a trapdoor or some leverage to aid them in their escape. It appeared the blackmailing tendency was still fresh in his lung, especially when it involved Bane. 

Adara had to crouch down to avoid being seen by the camera. She positioned herself by the movie screen, which was on the side facing the camera. To stay out of the frame, she stayed on the floor since she was the shortest of the four and had no other option. Although it was her suggestion to deem 16th October as a blessing, finding a way out in a seemingly closed room felt a little comical. Perhaps it was the revelation from last night that put her on a new perspective but she couldn't help but feel pessimistic. 

Lastly, Rylen. He took the left side of the room, eyeing the door opposite to him ever so often. He crawled on the ground much to no one's surprise but he had other things on his mind. No, he was not thinking about Raven again. Instead, he had a nagging suspicion that he was forgetting something. A memory from not too long ago lingered in his mind, but every time he searched the ground for a clue, the thought slipped away.

Rylen sat on his toes, locomoting around with strained legs. As he walked down the stairs in his questionable position, his body leaned backwards and his toes couldn't support the sudden shift of weight. He tumbled as his legs gave away and his body rammed into the soundproof walls behind him. He grunted as he held on to the wall and a nearby armchair, taking their support to stand up. 

Rylen abruptly halted as his palms brushed against the wall and felt something jabbing into his skin. Without delay, he put his finger on the wall and followed the protruding indents with his touch.

The letters A and S were enclosed in a triangle with uneven spikes.

Bane's logo. 

Rylen had worked with the cruel man long enough to know that this was exactly it. He distinctly remembered ridiculing the logo internally, hating how the spikes weren't of the same length. 

He moved his index finger around, touching every intimate detail that wall bore. As he followed from length to length, he realized that the entire wall had the logo carved into it. Rylen knew exactly whom to share this information with. Someone who might already know. 

"Zane," he whispered, running around the camera as he made his way towards him, "Touch the walls."

Sensing the traction around the back wall, Carmen ditched the floor and joined the duo. She noticed Zane's finger on the wall and followed suit. The back of her mind raced as the two letters struck a memory that had been buried by a woman's scream. 

It was the first clue she had ever found. And it was back. 

Carmen ran her fingers through a long stretch of the wall and for every centimetre, there was a logo. The mismatched spikes that were so prominent matched perfectly. Or, did it?

As she traced her fingers along the convoluted spikes, she noticed the varying lengths of each one. The first logo had evenly sized bottom spikes, while the top spike was longer. In contrast, the second logo had three spikes of different sizes, with the top one being the longest and the right side one following closely.

"The spikes are not of the same length," Carmen commented. 

"I noticed," Zane said, pondering away. 

As if a switch was flipped, Carmen realized that she shouldn't know what the logo was, "What is this, by the way?"

"It's Bane's business' logo. The business he wanted to start for his drug dealing," Rylen said, filling her in, "The A-S is supposed to be Arsenic's chemical symbol or something. I always thought it was weird but it's not my business."

Now, Carmen let her brain work, "Rylen, this is awesome! Each of them is different and he has only one logo! Maybe what we're looking for lies behind the original logo!"

"I think I've figured it out! We were searching for trapdoors, which seemed strange, but this makes sense now. He probably doesn't want any of his business-related items to be seen by anyone, so he must have a hidden bunker somewhere," Zane theorized.

"Well, do any of you know what the right lengths are?" Carmen asked, hopeful. 

"Fuck, I don't," Zane admitted. 

"Zane," Carmen said sternly, "We are so close. We can actually find our way out. Start thinking."

Of course, Carmen couldn't reveal that she might also remember. Unknown to the others, she began pointing her focus on the sacred memory, pulling the pieces together with all her might. The lengths were different, she knew that. But before she could have delved into it, a more pressing issue had come up. 

That's no excuse, she told herself. 

"I'm not sure," Rylen began, "But I think the bottom left is the longest. It's definitely longer than the one on the right but I'm not sure about the one on top."

"That narrows it down a bit," Zane said, rubbing his chin. 

"But what do we do when we find something at all? It's not possible to tally every logo that matches my description," Rylen said. 

"We press it," Zane said, unusually unsure, "I think we all expect there to be some secret shelf or room or something. Maybe this is a button to open it up."

"I think we all also know that we've been running on a far-fetched theory," Rylen said, unable to keep the doubts within. 

"I'd rather do something than nothing," Zane said, "God, if only this stuping camera allowed us to see what happened in this room before we came."

"That would be helpful," Rylen said. 

As the men discussed the possibility, Carmen was trapped in the past. Her mind spun around the bulky buffalo who had picked her up with ease and brought her to this hellhole. More specifically, she remembered the noises that alerted her in the first place. 

Why am I remembering this? She asked herself, How is it relevant?

Where else have I heard it?

She had heard it in her dreams. As her half-shark body swam through the ripples of the ocean, she heard beating on the door for an unusual twelve times which woke her up from her dream state. She heard it when Adara tapped her feet on the floor but she hadn't been tapping twelve times. But there were twelve beats. She remembered beats in this very room, emanating from the far right. 

The mystery board appeared yet again but this time, it was neater. The unused neurons coiled in a corner as she placed the rest on her board. Bane kidnapped her. Bane knew she knew more than she was letting on. Bane killed Emily. If he could kill someone, he could definitely trap another person on the other side of the theatre. 

Is that what it was, then? That there was someone pleading for help from those who need it themselves? Was it the pleas of someone like her that Carmen heard? Were the noises then not just a figment of her imagination?

Who knew about Bane and why couldn't he trap them with the other four? Who could possibly be the person on the other side? Who has anything against Bane?

Emily

Bane shot Emily. 

Maybe the sliver of freedom was disheveling Carmen's mind. 

Maybe, it wasn't so improbable to suspect that Emily was alive. 

And kicking. 

𓆩⟡𓆪

A/N: Finally, I'm back with the next chapter! Seems like they may be finding their way out, now that they kind of know what to do. Is it feasible though? I'm sure Bane won't let it go in their favour for too long. He had been present for eleven minutes of their conversation last time after all 👀. What do you think?
PS: Do you think Carmen's theory has credibility? 👀
WC: 2862