I wasn't expecting to wake up. Not even expecting to feel my chest slowly rising up and rising down in the process.

I wasn't expecting to hear my heart pulsing and throbbing against my ear. Moving my head sideways, my eyes met the white ceiling.

I was alive . . . breathing.

My body hurt. It was like my flesh was being torn apart, pricking a thousands of needles on it. I felt like my soul wanted to split out of my body, because she didn't want to feel this pain. It was exhausting, really, really exhausting.

I tried to move my body, but I failed. I sensed that I was laid on a bed, more like a gurney. I felt something binding my body. My wrists, ankles, and torso tied in synthetic fiber straps so that I couldn't escape.

No, no, no, no. I needed to escape. I had to get out of this place.

I wanted to scream, but I was too tired to let my voice out. I struggled and struggled, hoping these straps would let me go.

Breathing helplessly, I stopped writhing violently. My chest was rising and falling with harsh and shuddering breaths.

I was afraid, scared, and hopeless.

In the midst of my anxiety attack, someone came inside the surgery room.

It was a lady. She looked very sophisticated with her light blonde hair tied in a clean and casual bun. Her clothes was a horizontal black and white patterned blouse, tucked in a black semi-fitted pants. She was a doctor also, she was wearing a white lab coat.

I kept silent while watching her walk towards me. Then she sat on the edge of the bed with crossed arms as she stared at me with a bitchy look.

She spent few more seconds before she talked, saying, "He's horrible, isn't he?"

I quietly gasped. "W-Who are you?"

"Oh, you don't have to know my name, but I'm one of the owners of this company, and I work for that psycho." she stated full of annoyance.

"Are you going to kill me also?" even if it was just a low tone, I asked her.

"Don't make laugh, idiot!" then she laughed ridiculously but sardonically. "I may be a lot of things, but God, I'm not a killer."

"Then why are you here?"

It surprised me when her ice blue orbs turned into deadlock ones. "I am here," she spoke, whispering like a poisonous thorn, "because I want you to kill that man."

I frowned at her, feeling kinda infuriated. "How could I possibly do that?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, trust me, you can." and smirked.

I stayed quiet. My body was beaten, I was thinking that I could not lift even if it was just a finger.

"I can't," I told her, shaking my head.

The corner of her lips curled up, "I see. Then I have a proposal for you."

I didn't like the sly smile that was crept on her lips. It was devious. Yet my instincts were telling me to believe in her.

"Tell me." I spoke.

She sat closer to me while grinning mischievously, then handed me something in my right hand. I looked at the thing she gave me. It was a small knife with a thin blade.

"That . . ." she uttered and I listened carefully. "Will be your salvation. The Trojan horse virus I put in the security system of this facility have started working-exactly five minutes from now. It means, no one can see or hear our conversation at this moment. It won't last much, but it can buy you time to escape. So, if I were you, start cutting these straps already."

I did what she told me. It wasn't simply to move, not that these straps were on me.

"So what are you going to do now?" she smugly said. "That sick-in-the-brain psycho will be here now in few. His plan is to kill you in as most brutal and disgusting way as possible. I only came here to order you to end that bastard, because I swear to God, I'm all sick and tired working with him." she was annoyed, but then, she started laughing out of the blue. "You scared the hell out of his deep-shitted brain a while ago, and my gosh, it was way so funny, like the fuck!"

I only stared at her. She was smart, but also rotten to the core spoiled bitch.

"Well, whatever." and now, she was back being a composed and sophisticated lady. "Will you kill him or not? Because if you didn't kill him, he will kill you."

I sighed. Like I had the choice. "I'll accept it."

"Why not, of course?" she smirked. "The knife is already on your hands. But let me tell you, once you escaped here, you will only have ten to twelve minutes to run away. Exiting this room, you have to turn left. Upon going to the left turn, there will be a hallway. Just continue walking, then you will see a door. That's the armory room. Get some ammos and it will help you survive."

"Why are you doing this?" I couldn't help but to question her.

She heaved a deep sigh. "Don't worry, I'm not doing this for you. Well, except the fact that I want that fucktard psycho to be eradicated in this world, but I am also returning a favor to someone. He helped me before, and this is only the way I can return his help." Her facial expression changed. She had the fiery glares to her eyes, as if she could burn me alive. She leveled her head to mine and said, "That's why you have to escape here alive, you little shit. Don't waste the life he gave you, because if you die here, I am more than willing to be a sinner and erase your bloodline in this fucking world."

I got intimidated to her and what I only did is to nod.

"Glad you understand." she said while composing her sitting posture. "By the way, you have to drink these," the rotten-to-the-core spoiled bitch showed me a two capsules in her palm.

"What are those? Are you going to poison me?"

"You still don't get it, do you?" she stared at me impassively. "It's not my job to kill you, loser. One is a painkiller, and the other one is a capsuled crystal meth."

"You're going to drug me?!" I said incredulously.

"Duh, in your hopeless case, you won't even going to last for five minutes." she answered in narked tone. "You need this, it can increase your energy levels."

I never talked. She understood what my silence and went near me, then let me swallowed the two capsules.

The she-doctor smiled very sweetly as she stood up, "That's so nicey-nice of you~!" and said with sparkled in her eyes. She even clapped her hands twice. "Now, I have to go. It's on your own now, but don't worry, I'll also help the boys caged in the basement."

She left and I was all alone. I didn't waste time, immediately cutting the straps. It wasn't easy cutting them, but slowly and slowly, they were tearing apart.

My heart was beating loud. I hoped he wasn't going to come here in this place already . . . but my breaths were taken away when the door slid open and the pyscho doctor entered inside!

At the back of my mind, I muttered all the curses in the world. He was already here! There was nothing more terrifying than that. I hid the blade under my wrist.

He was wearing what a surgeon would wear. He was really a psycho.

He walked near me, then uncovered his face by removing his mask. An evil smirk was etched on his face. "Look at you right now," he chuckled full of mock. "What did you say again, huh? You will kill me? You will tear my flesh apart? Loads of bullshits!"

It horrified me. His voice was echoing inside.

"I will kill you, like how you killed my sister." I frowned. "Of course, you've forgotten about that. But you killed her by stabbing right through the heart. And I will do the same." He smiled demonically, taking a knife placed on a nearby table. "After killing you, I will tear your limbs off, or anything I could cut off to your body. Then I will make a new form of your being. That would be magnificent!"

On what he said, my mind played something that I shouldn't think. I could imagine myself on a bloodbath. Eyes out of the sockets, incomplete limbs, the half of my facial skin torn off (showing the half of my skull), a hole in my skull and brains out. Oh, that would be so grotesque. I felt every hairs of my body stood up.

"But before you suffer immensely painful," the psycho doctor removed the straps on my ankles, which was a good sign for me. Yet I had no idea what was that for. It only surprised me when he get on the bed and went between my legs! "It will be a waste if you died without experiencing a blissful satisfaction, so I will give you a good fuck."

Everything that were inside of me started to rumble. I was so anxious that I could not think straight. My legs were free and I could hurt him, but one single mistake, he could take my life. He had a menancingly sharp knife in his hand, meaning, I was all motionless.

"You seem are a fine woman," he grinned maliciously, "fucking you will be a worthwhile." Then he reached out for a scalpel. And in just one stroke of his scalpel, my shirt was cut in two. It was leaving me bare, except the cloth covering my bosoms.

My eyes started to water. I was quivering. It felt so degrading.

The bastard had this triumphant smile on his face as he bent down and fully licked my jaw with his disgusting tongue.

Oh, God . . . What should I do?

"Fuck! You taste so damn great!" he exclaimed doing the same thing in process. "I could taste blood on you, and it tastes even fucking delicious!"

I was crying silently. Slowly and slowly, I was getting really weak. Everything made so sick. So sick that I was more than willing to kill him.

Anguish. Fear. Resentment. I yearned for revenge.

Strong. Be strong.

I chanted that to my mind. Like my own personal mantra. I moved my hand when I was holding the knife. Again, I started slicing up the straps while he was very busy tasting every bits of my skin.

Tears were on my eyes. I tried my best not let any sobs escaped my lips. I had to be quiet, even though everything grossed me out.

His tongue was trailing down to my cleavage as I was almost successfully cutting the strap out.

A little more . . .

He was so busy violating me, and didn't notice that I had torn the strap that prevented my hand to move.

Since he was very occupied, he didn't see that I raised my hand . . . knife was on my grasp.

And my anger towards him made me kill him. I killed him. I stabbed him. I stabbed him in where the hole of his ear was placed. The knife went inside the hole. Oh . . . I was so sure that it hit something very vital.

I did it again. Again and again. I pulled the knife out and pushed it in again.

He bled. Yes, he bled so much. Blood was gushing out of his ear like how a water flowed out of the faucet. It got spilled on my hand and skin.

Instantly, he stopped moving, eyes were dilated. I pushed him away and let him fall on the floor lifelessly.

Hurriedly, I freed my other hand by cutting it as well. I was gasping for air, as if my breaths were taken away from me. I was shaking while standing up from the gurney.

I ran outside. Tears were blurring my sights. It frustrated me. I felt all so weak. I had no idea where I would pull some strength. My body is faltering, but the drug I drunk was doing its work.

I needed to escape. I had to escape. I couldn't be here any longer.

I remembered the she-doctor said. I should head to the armory room. Following the instructions, I fortunately found the room. The level of the security was not tight so immediately came inside. The virus was still working.

I took a gun and started running away again. I didn't know how much time was left on my count, but if I could run as far as I could, I wished I could be fine.

It felt so stupid. I was fleeing away with my clothes torn in two. My whole body was almost bloody. Swollen face, cuts to my skin. I couldn't walk without limping. I got bruises in the abdominal area.

I ran without direction, just going where might my instincts told me.

When took a turn on my right, there were two men guarding on a certain post.

I groaned to myself. Damn it.

And just like what happened before, my body acted on my own. The first man drew a gun, and I attacked him fast. Before he could shoot me, I grabbed his wrist and rendered his whole arm not to move. Directing the gun to the second opponent, I shot him in the head. I did the same thing to the first man.

Since there was gunshots, the alarm of the facility started to resound in the whole place.

Again, I moved my legs with speed. I had to find the exit . . . I only had a gun or two. If I would fight against this army, I didn't know if I would survive.

Escaping was the only answer.

Yet, it was the hardest thing to do. I was all unfamiliar with this place. Every passages could lead you to a trap. Or worst, death.

I was in the middle of a hallway. I was thankful, because there were no armed men to kill me. Still, I was cautious to my surrounding. The cause of my death would just be lurking around the corner.

And I was correct.

Another two men went in front of my way. They had guns and about to shoot me. In my defense mode, I went out of the line of the gun, then assaulted them again. With my own pistol, I only killed them.

Horrible. Really horrible. I was ashamed by my own reckless actions. How could I kill them? How could I take lives?

I was in chase. Then I should really run away. In my own way, I found an elevator. Riding on a lift would be a risk. They could shut the elevator down and that would be my end-game. But right next the elevators was the fire exit-my salvation.

I went inside and a number of steps welcomed me. I had a little dilemma in my head whether I would go down or up . . . And the best way was to go down.

Fast . . . A little faster . . .

I tried my best to flee in a high pace as possible. I could feel that many armed men were on their way.

I saw a sign that I was on the fourth floor. Despite the fear and thrill that I could feel, I tried to remain calm. I was about to reach my breaking point. My crushed soul was in deep sorrow.

I heard many gunshots from above. They were already here.

Run. Faster.

The raining of bullets never stopped. I could tell that there were ten to fifteen persons hunting me down, based on the sound of their footsteps reflecting on the ground.

Second floor . . . I reached the second floor. Only one floor left, and I would be able to get away from this dangerous place.

Run . . . Run . . . Run . . . But I stopped.

In my most unfortunate moment, I felt an immense pain on my rib area. I got shot. And because of the strong impact, I lose my balance and got tripped by my own foot.

I only taunted that I was moving across the staircase by turning over and over. The momentum of my rolling only halted when I landed on the surface and hit my head to the solid concrete wall.

Groaning and groaning in too much pain. I didn't know what hurt the most.

As my head was in deep agony, I saw flashes on my mind.

Kill them and you will never be killed.

No vivid images. Only voices. Horrifying voices.

I don't wanna kill . . .

As young child whispered.

Yes . . . I didn't want to kill. But I didn't want to get killed either.

Even though I didn't feel well, I tried to sat down. My gun was still on my reach, so picked it up.

A bullet sunk in my flesh . . . Blood was streaming down like water, coloring the cold floor like the red spring.

No more running away, because they had cornered me. These men were wearing white coat and black slacks. Armed with assault rifles that pointed to my direction.

Fight back . . . How could I fight back? I could feel the fatigue to my system. Heavy breaths, piercing pains, and unexplainable frustrations.

They were talking, saying that they would kill me if I didn't drop the gun. I only took up to my feet, silently watching them.

Kill me . . ? I'm already dying. Leave me and let me die alone.

Like I could give a damn.

I didn't blink or close my eyes. I somehow wanted to see on how would I die. Would it be painful or just a quick pain?

I thought that it would be my end . . . but something shifted in the situation.

One by one . . . these foes toppled down.

It confused me. What happened?

As the men fell down, I saw Nathan with Chance. Justine was out of the picture.

They had the same expression to their faces. Grim, furtive, and pity.

"Hime . . ." Nathan said in a broken and stammering voice, "It's fine now . . . Please hand me the gun."

I gave him an impossible look and shook my head, "It is fine . . ? No, it's not."

"It's over now. Give me the gun." He begged me to hand him the gun, calling me in an unusual name. It was as though he could read what was dwelling inside my mind.

"I . . . I'm," I stuttered, my voice revealed my horror. "I don't remember anything . . . I didn't . . ."

"I know, it's okay." persistence was in his tone. "It doesn't even matter now."

"No, I didn't know everything." I cried, lips shaking and eyes tearing. "It's not okay."

"Listen to me, Hime, it's over." he said while taking steps toward me and I only stepped backward. "Hime, come on, please trust me."

"No, no! I don't trust you!" I spitefully screamed to him. "Shut up! Just shut up! Shut up!!"

Frustration washed over me. I was crying because of the pain-physically and mentally.

"I don't remember everything! And that is not okay! Why did I end up right here?" I even added while heaving very deep breaths. "Ever since I woke up, I already don't know everything. I woke up with nothing . . . I didn't have an identity . . . I don't even know who I am, what I am. I didn't have everything . . . even the fragments of my past to solve the puzzles of own existence . . . I lost my memories.

"So I created a new identity, a new me, and something that is not who I am." I started to tale a story. What has gotten me? "It was hard living that way . . . Living my whole entire life in a lie. It feels very incomplete."

Then there was silence. And the quieter it became, the more I could hear. I was only crying. What should I do to my existence? It was funny that I existed, when I had no reason to live.

"All my life, I was desperate to know who I am . . ." I uttered with gnashing teeth, eyes welled up. "But learning that my past is related to this bloodshed . . . I don't want it; I can't stand it."

"You don't have to be, Hime . . ." said Nathan, trying to reconcile my heavy feelings.

I didn't listen to him. I had a loaded nine-millimeter handgun. I looked to the gun, the barrel was pointed to my forehead.

If I pulled the trigger and put a bullet to my brain, would it help? They said that once a person was in the brink of death, it would recollect the missing memories.

I thought so, too.

My head was full of dead thoughts. I could imagine myself bathing with my own blood. I could not think straight. Of all the pain and stress I felt-ah, even the drugs I took-were the reason why I was downright wretched.

All I needed was to count one-two-three, then it would be the end.

Would it be easy? Would it be painful?

I didn't think it would be.

Once I said three, it would be finally over. All I had to do was to pull the trigger and shoot my head, I would be brain-dead for sure in just an instant. It was an easy death.

So, what I was waiting for? I should start counting already.

All right, in one . . .

Two . . .

Three . . .

Then . . . bang . . .

↭ ♡ ↭

♚ handtheirend

literally hand their end