The sound of our footsteps is deafening in the silence of the hallway as Max pulls me along, his grip unrelenting, his body tense. I can hear the pounding of feet behind us, getting closer, but we don't stop. We can't stop. Not yet.
"Keep going, Amara," Max urges, his voice strained but determined. "We're almost there."
I want to believe him. I want to think that there's an escape, that we're not trapped in this nightmare. But the closer we get to the exit, the more my heart sinks. I can hear the people behind us closing in, their pursuit relentless.
A sharp pain flares in my side as I stumble, nearly tripping over my own feet. Max's hand tightens around mine, steadying me, but even he can't mask the fear in his eyes. He's just as scared as I am. Maybe even more.
We round a corner, and I catch a glimpse of the exit ahead—just a few more steps. But then—
A loud crash echoes from behind us, and I freeze, terror gripping my heart. The sound of metal scraping against concrete sends a shiver down my spine.
"They've blocked the way," I gasp, panic rising in my chest.
Max's face hardens as he scans the area. There's no way forward. We're boxed in. I feel my breath quicken, my pulse pounding in my ears. This is it. We're going to be caught.
"Stay with me, Amara," Max says, his voice low and fierce. "We can't give up now. Not like this."
I try to nod, but the panic in my chest is choking me, making it hard to think clearly. We're trapped. And it's my fault. I should never have opened that envelope. I should've stayed away from this whole mess. But it's too late now.
We're in the middle of a war, and I'm just a pawn.
Another crash rings out from the hallway behind us, and I spin around, my heart sinking. The figures have closed in, the darkness of the hallway now filled with their looming silhouettes. They've got us cornered. There's nowhere to run.
Max shoves me behind him, taking a protective stance as the group moves closer. I can feel my legs shaking beneath me, but I can't let them see me falter. Not now.
"You're out of time, Max," Vance's voice cuts through the air, smooth and cold. "You've played your hand, and now it's mine."
The darkness of the hallway swallows us whole as he steps into view. His eyes gleam with malicious satisfaction. He's won. He knows it.
"I told you it would come to this," Vance says, his tone almost pitying. "You should've stayed out of it, Max. But now... now it's too late for both of you."
Max grits his teeth, his body trembling with barely-contained fury. "You won't win. Not like this."
But Vance only laughs. It's cold. Derisive. "I already have, Max. The game's over."
The air in the hallway grows heavier as the rest of Vance's group steps forward, surrounding us like a trap. Their eyes are cold, unwavering, as they close in.
I look up at Max, searching his face for some kind of plan, some way out. But he's just as lost as I am. We're stuck.
And then I feel it—the pulse of something, deep inside me, something I didn't expect. It's like a surge of energy, of willpower, of... something greater.
I don't know where it's coming from, but I feel the shift, the change inside me. I glance at Max. His eyes meet mine, and I see it in his gaze—he feels it too.
It's a fleeting moment, a heartbeat, but in that moment, I know. We can still fight. We don't have to give in to them.
Max doesn't speak. Instead, he steps forward, his stance stronger now, his jaw set. The others move to block us, but I notice the hesitation in their eyes. They're not as certain as Vance. They're still waiting for something—an order, a signal. A command.
"Now, Amara," Max whispers, his voice just for me.
Without thinking, I act. I pull away from Max, darting forward into the fray. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but something inside me is pushing me forward. I hear Max shout my name, but I don't stop. I can't stop.
I slam into the first figure, knocking him off balance, my heart pounding in my chest. I don't have time to think. I just move, throwing myself into the fight.
Another figure lunges at me, but I dodge, grabbing hold of a nearby metal pipe and swinging it with all the force I can muster. It strikes the person in the shoulder, sending them crashing into the wall.
It's chaos. The hallway erupts into a frenzy of motion, of violence, of desperation.
And then, in the midst of the madness, I see him—Jaxon—stepping forward with that same, cold smirk, his eyes locked on me.
"You think you can win this, Amara?" he sneers. "You're nothing."
I freeze. For a moment, the world stops. My heart skips a beat. I've always known that Jaxon is dangerous. But now, I see just how far he's willing to go.
And that's when I know—this isn't just a fight for survival. It's a fight for everything