Tahlia's lungs were set on flames with every shallow breath she took.

With a fiendish glint in his moonlit eyes, Jace simply reached over to the surface of the wall by his side, pressing down on a switchboard she had missed before, effectively turning on all of the lights in the hall.

Tahlia couldn't help but squint as her eyes adjusted to the bright hot light, a movement which only made her sink down deeper against the granite. A wave of utter dread washed over her skin as the gravity of her situation finally settled in.

This wasn't Jace Montgomery the class clown, her best friend, her only friend; someone who spray painted public property for fun and brought her takeout and movies when she had a bad day.

No, that had all been smoke and mirrors. Jace Montgomery never existed.

As he took one singular, small step in her direction, her mind went into overdrive as she quickly whipped her head around in search for anything she could use as a weapon, a grunt of agitation leaving her throat as she found nothing.

"You should know, things would have been very different, if only you stopped being such a fucking pest."

Tahlia could swear his voice had gotten an octave deeper, no longer the airy tone she'd come to expect from her ever-so cheerful, ditzy friend.

How do you know if what you see is real?

"But then again," He sneered with sheer disgust, "You always were a dumb bitch, weren't you? You know, I bet you thought you could find the Westfield Ripper and change him with the power of love and compassion."

As a beat of palpable silence passed between them, the traces of a crazed grin began forming on his lips, as if suddenly realizing something.

"Would you like to see him?"

Her mouth parted open, heart threatening to pop right out of it as Jace leaned back to his side to knock on the wall thrice. Tahlia didn't quite have the time to process it all as she heard the distinct sound of a door clicking open. She had a clear view of the three doors, right behind Jace; flinching as the second door, the one that had been locked, opened slowly.

Out of the shadows he emerged— A face she'd gotten used to haunting her dreams every night, yet when the time came, didn't fail to catch her off guard, disorienting her effectively.

He looked infernal. Like a creature borne in hellfire, blessed with destruction and cursed with allure. Eyes that shifted between light and dark, lips set in a line that gave no emotion away; Tahlia realized this was her heavenly hell.

It was as Tahlia reeled between feeling stunned, helpless and panick-stricken all at the same time, that a groggy groan filled the space between her and the two men on the other side. On the floor, Wynn O'Neil stirred sideways, slowly opening her eyelids. First her half open eyes slipped on Tahlia, before straining her face to the other side, finding Jace's frightening stature hovering over her sprawled body. As if slowly piecing together everything, a shrill shriek tore out of her throat. Wynn attempted to shift her body away to the other side where Tahlia stood, crying pitifully as she struggled against her restrained limbs.

She didn't quite have to the time to defend herself against the hand that grabbed her by the scuff of her neck, yanking her up on her legs in one swift motion.

"Didn't think I'd forgotten about you, now did you babe?"

Tahlia's mouth fell open in horror as Wynn whimpered in agony, forced to stand with her back pressed against Jace's chest, sticking her exposed neck out as her head was held taut to the back.

For a second, Tahlia's gaze found Logan's, silently begging him to help her. His face did not change in the slightest, hollow eyes remaining aloof and distant as he looked right back at Tahlia.

Tahlia had no space for being disappointed or broken hearted, for time was of the essence; so she turned to Jace.

"Jace," She began, before swallowing tepidly, easing her shoulders as she raised her palm, reaching out towards his direction, "Kilian, please don't do this. It's not too late. L-let Wynn and I go, you and your brother can get out of town—"

Tahlia was interjected, not by words, but by the most sinister smile she had ever seen in her entire life, one that reached down to her soul and rattled it by it's core, heralding a gust of cold despair.

Wynn must have felt it too, for she stopped fighting, giving up, as only silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

Bringing his lips to her ears, he whispered sadistically, "Ms. O'Neil, until next time."

And before Tahlia could as much utter another syllable, Jace extended his arm across her ear, a piece of metal in his clutch, glaring against the lights.

"NO!" Wailed Tahlia, but it was too late. The cool tip of the swiss knife pierced the side of her neck, as he dragged the blade across her throat slowly.

Blood spurted out of the slit, gushing down her collarbones, spilling on the linoleum like waterfalls. Wynn's mouth parted open, a guttural sound leaving what was left of her throat, as she agonizingly choked on her own blood.

Tahlia was frozen. Wynn's eyes, staring right at her, were slipping out of life and there was nothing she could do. Nothing.

There was nothing Natalia could do. Nothing.

She could only stand there and watch as her mother backhanded her 7 year old sister across the face, making her fall on her knees, crying out woefully.

It wasn't unusual at this point, having become a wretched part of the two sisters' daily routine. But what was unusual this time around was how Deborah, high as a horse, decided to reach for the the frying pan down by the stove, and smack it right across the child's temple in rage, knocking her out cold.

Deborah then slumped down back on the wooden floor, proceeding to desperately snort the haphazard white lines. A few minutes passed, as Natalia realized Emilia wasn't moving. She approached her sister's supine form, alarmed at the sight of blood trickling down her ear. She wasn't breathing. She shook her, she shook her by her arm, by her chest; but nothing. Emilia just wouldn't wake up.

And there was nothing she could do. Nothing.

Wrung back into the present with a deafening thud, Tahlia realized Jace had let go of Wynn's lifeless body and it had dropped to the floor like a sack of dead weights.

Horror-struck, her brain finally apprehended what was to come next, triggering her flight response.

Unfortunately for her though, it was as she had barely made one step away from the kitchen, that she felt a dark presence loom around her. It wasn't Logan she first saw by her side, but the knife he had in his grip, arm raised, aimed at her.

The flat hilt of the knife came down on the side of her head, the damning force knocking her out cold at once.

✴✴✴

It was the second time in Tahlia's miserable life that she'd found herself waking up the same way; Her head spinning, nauseated and of course, with her hands bound behind her back.

Her vision had only just begun to clear up, a waning haze, when she heard noises from a distance. Voices.

This jostled her system awake at once, observing her surroundings, realizing she was inside an empty room, propped on the floor. She frantically tugged at her restraints in a feeble attempt to break free, but that was of no use. They seemed to be tied around a long cylindrical object pressing against her back; perhaps a pole she deduced.

The voices grew closer and it struck her they were coming from the other side of the door. As she heard the knob jiggle, she immediately closed her eyes, lolling her head to the side like she was still asleep.

"You know, it would have been a lot easier if you'd only killed her the first two times like you were supposed to."

It was Jace's voice, she was sure of it. She had to bite back a sob that had almost escaped her chest.

"But nope, instead of bashing her head in and then taking the keys at Westerly like we had agreed on, you swiped it from her pants like some rat pickpocket." He spat. "And the second time I make sure you get your chance again, she ends up in a hospital with some mild fucking frostbite at best."

"I couldn't. I tried, but I couldn't."

It was Logan who spoke those words, voice soft, like he was ashamed. The tension built itself like blocks, growing unbearable by the second.

"Tell me brother, did you think you could get away from what you are by creating this fantasy with her? You think a wolf puts on sheep skin and loses his claws?"

"That's not what it was Ian, you know that."

"All I know is you keep fucking up and I clean after you. You get caught, I have to come up with some multiple personality bullshit to keep them from finding us. You get caught, I have to stop my fun for four years. I break you out, and I have to worry about keeping you underground.

You're disappointing me brother."

Tahlia could swear the hair on the back of her neck had all stood up at just how intensely chilling Jace, or Kilian's tone was.

"You know what happens to people who disappoint me right? I know you don't remember much from our childhood, but you remember what I did to Mum and Dad when they disappointed me, don't you?"

An inadvertent gasp left Tahlia's mouth that very moment. She felt their attention turn towards her, forcing herself to pry her eyes open.

Jace, noticing she was conscious, stalked towards her form, grinning like a fox,

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey." He chuckled, giving Tahlia a half-glimpse into what once used to be her goofy friend.

He crouched down, levelling himself to her eye level, tilting his head to the side as he mockingly stuck his lower lip out,

"Aw, poor Tal. Always finds herself in deep shit."

Finding the last remaining bit of dwindling courage, she glared at him with all her might.

"I want you to know you're at least 80% responsible for whatever happens to you, and those around you. I must say, I was so expecting you to be the bigger person and go to the police and tell them everything you knew. But uh-oh, little Tal's not the saint she thinks she is. Tsk tsk tsk." He clicked his tongue sardonically, blue eyes dancing in sadistic amusement.

"In fact, after I kill you, you know that poor old blind lady you met today? I'll have to pay her a visit and gut her like a fish."

Tahlia thrashed against her restraints, screaming in rage. The sight was clearly one full of hilarity and delight to Jace, who smirked in cold-blood.

"You know what Tal, I'm not a bad guy." He said almost in earnest, capturing Tahlia's attention. "And since we've been BFFs for so long, I'm gonna do you some grace and answer anything you want to know. Anything at all."

She was still breathing irregularly, vision clouded with fear and anxiety.

For a moment, her eyes fell on the form behind Jace. Logan simply stood at the door, head hanging low, not even glimpsing at the scene unfolding before him in the slightest.

She gazed back into Jace's face, "Dean. Was he a part of this?"

"Oh, give me fucking break." Jace rolled his eyes, "Of all the questions you could ask, you choose to waste it on that shithead? Why, because he's the only guy who's ever shown the slightest interest in your pathetic self?"

In her peripheral vision, Tahlia caught the faintest of movements; realizing Logan had looked up, perceptive eyes set on the two now.

"To answer your question, no, of course not, you think the whole town was in on this or something?" He scoffed derisively. "That poor loser just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

The scowl on his face then began morphing into something else, something that Tahlia could only presume was vestiges of malice; as he drew himself closer to her face.

"It's only three people we owe everything to— Jordy Miller, Lauren Turner and," His venomous fingers locked around her chin, forcing her to look up into his maddened eyes, "You, Natalia Meyers."

She recoiled at his touch. His fingers that were still bloody from slashing Wynn's throat, inevitably transferred some of that blood to Tahlia's jaw, revolting her from the inside out.

He laughed, releasing her face as he stood up. "Get the can Kyle."

Terror had a grip on Tahlia's brain, but somehow she apprehended that he was asking Logan to do something, so she averted her gaze to him.

Logan did not move, standing there like a cold marble statue. Jace turned his head towards his direction, "I said, get the can Kyle."

Even from the distance, Tahlia couldn't miss the smallest of ripples in Logan's jaw. He did not look at Jace in the least, only connecting his unfeeling irises to her petrified ones.

Practically fuming, Jace marched up to his brother, finally forcing him to look at him. His hot gaze battled Logan's cold ones, fire warning ice.

As Logan refused to budge, he spat venomously, "I'll deal with you later. But first, I guess if you need something to be done, better do it yourself." He disappeared out of the door, not before firmly brushing his shoulder against Logan's on the way out.

With him gone, as only Tahlia and him remained in the room, she lost the last bit of self-respect she had in the face of survival.

"Please, Logan." She begged, her round eyes welling up, "Help me, please."

And for a second there, she could swear she saw his glacial eyes ease up; but the momentum was all lost as a blonde head of hair soon appeared right behind him.

Sauntering towards her, playfully, he held up a translucent white can for her to see. She could see the shadow of a liquid sloshing around inside the container. As he screwed the cap open, a pungent smell hit Tahlia's nose, her eyes widening in soul-splitting terror as it registered what the substance was. She could no longer hide her fear.

Still looking at her, he turned the can upside down, spilling some of the liquid on the wooden floor right in front of where Tahlia was held, making sure she knew exactly what was happening. Menacingly, he then turned around to throw it on other random spots of the room, making sure to get most of the surface covered in gasoline.

At this point, Tahlia lost all sense of reality and began screaming on the top of her lungs for help.

When the can was all empty, Jace turned his back to her and began walking out of the room. Wordlessly, Logan followed suit, face imperceptibly scrunched up.

The former stood at the doorway, smiling as he reached into his pocket, producing a small shiny cube.

"So long Tal." He flicked the lighter on, callously throwing it onto the floor, shutting the door.

The liquid caught on blue flames in less than a second, spreading onto the spillage all around the room rapidly.

Tahlia kept screaming for her life, but not a soul heard her except for the starless night.

The fire hadn't travelled all the way to the spot where she was, yet that did nothing to stop the heat from scathing her body from afar. As charcoal fumes erupted from the fire, ruthlessly entering her nostrils and asphyxiating her throat, she went into a coughing fit, finding it harder to breathe by the second. Within a few moments, the wheezing stopped as Tahlia's eyes rolled to the back of her head, unable to fight any longer, try as she may.

On the other side of the door, Kyle Forester stood glued to the ground, his heart beating faster than usual as he heard a certain girl's strained screams grow drowned out. He'd never felt that way once in his sinful life ever before.

It just didn't feel right.

"Come on, someone's gonna see that fire and call 911 soon. We have to get out of here, you got your bag ready?" Kilian asked pressingly.

Kyle took a long look at his baby brother.

He almost didn't remember him as a child, but then again, he didn't remember much.

He did, however, remember that when he was a small boy of barely 11, the animals in their small rach started turning up dead, mutilated. Naturally they suspected the older brother, not the 7 year old kid. That's how Kyle found himself locked in St. Jude's Hospital, but the rest of it was a blur.

When he got out, it was his younger brother that found him— now a 12 year old who had moved on from farm animals to actual human beings. He showed him his ways, taught him everything he know. His brother, that's all he'd ever had.

All Tahlia Meyers was supposed to be was just an expendable pawn in the story. She wasn't supposed to capture his interest with her naivety and her jagged edges.

But she did.

"I'm not going to let her die." He stated breathily, getting Kyle's attention, who stopped in his tracks, raising a brow.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Jace walked up to him, seething; standing five inches shorter, yet about ten times as menacing in aura. "You sure want to do this brother?"

Not caring to elaborate on it any further, as Kyle went in to touch the door knob, he almost didn't see the curled knuckles that came aimed at his jaw.

He blocked the punch with ease, his stature towering over Kilian's. With resolute eyes, he grabbed a fistful of his brother's dyed blonde hair and smashed his forehead against the wall. His lean body fell at his feet at once, limp.

He stared at his little brother's unmoving body for a second, thankful Kilian was knocked out this quickly so he wouldn't have to do something else.

Turning his attention back to the door, he opened it with inexplicable urgency.

He was met with the sight of blue and yellow, something that brought him back to all those years ago, when it all burnt down.

He saw her, eyes closed as her head drooped to the side, soot covering her pale skin in splotches.

Heat seared his skin as he walked into the inferno, careful to beeline past the roaring flames. An object, caught on fire, fell not a feet away from him, reminding him of how quickly he needed to move.

But it was no easy task, the smoke was getting to him; but all he saw was her.

Narrowly avoiding getting burnt,

He approached her form, squatting down as he cut the zip tie around her wrists with his knife. As his fingers brushed against hers in the movement, her head twitched, stirring to side, lips parting.

As the zip tie fell onto the ground in pieces, he twined his arm around her shoulder, propping her up on her slack legs.

Supporting her by the back, he hauled her body on, barely avoiding the blazing walls and floor by a whisker. As he'd almost made it to to the door, a flaming plank of wood fell from the ceiling on his right forearm. He hissed in pain as the small contact scorched his skin; but it didn't matter, they had made it out of the room.