CHAPTER 6 — The Only Way Out
903 Words
Elara didn’t sleep.
Again.
At this point, she was starting to think sleep was a myth. Something people outside did for fun.
Because here?
Here, her brain refused to shut up.
She sat on the edge of the mattress, staring at the wall, but not really seeing it.
All she could see… was him.
The way he said her name.
The way he looked at her.
The way he smiled when she cried.
Her stomach twisted.
“Yeah… no,” she muttered quietly, dragging her hands down her face. “We’re not doing that.”
She stood abruptly, pacing the small space.
“He’s crazy. Fully. Completely. Gone,” she continued under her breath.
A pause.
“…but he knows I’m not.”
She stopped walking.
That part.
That part wouldn’t leave her alone.
Out of everyone in this place out of all the guards, the silence, the lies
He was the only one who said it.
You’re not crazy.
Her chest tightened.
“Okay, Elara,” she whispered, pointing at herself like she was giving a lecture. “Let’s think. Logically.”
She took a deep breath.
“You are trapped. You don’t know why. Everyone here is lying.”
Another breath.
“And the only person who isn’t lying… is a literal psychopath.”
She paused.
“…great.”
Her stomach growled loudly.
Elara looked down at the untouched tray from earlier.
Then back at the door.
Then back at the tray.
“Honestly, if this is how I go, it’s been a very stupid life,” she sighed before picking up the bread again.
A small bite.
She froze.
Waited.
Nothing.
“…okay,” she nodded slowly. “We’re alive. That’s a good sign.”
She took another bite, slower this time.
Her thoughts didn’t stop though.
Because now…
There was a new one.
A worse one.
What if he’s my way out?
Her grip tightened slightly.
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head.
“No, no, no. That’s how people in horror movies die.”
She pointed at the door like it had personally offended her.
“We are not trusting the scary man. We don’t trust scary men.”
A pause.
“…but we might use the scary man.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
“That’s different.”
—
Dominic didn’t like waiting.
He tolerated it.
But he didn’t like it.
He stood in front of the large window, hands in his pockets, staring out at the city like it owed him something.
Behind him, the room was silent.
No one spoke unless spoken to.
No one moved unless necessary.
Because everyone knew
He was thinking.
And when Dominic thought…
Decisions were made.
“Say it again,” he said calmly.
The man behind him swallowed.
“The facility is private,” he repeated carefully. “Off the books. Heavy security. No external access. Even deliveries are controlled.”
Dominic nodded slightly.
“So… annoying.”
The man blinked.
“…sir?”
Dominic turned, his expression almost thoughtful.
“I was hoping for something easier,” he admitted.
A pause.
Then
“But this works.”
The shift was subtle.
But everyone felt it.
That quiet change from calm… to something else.
Something sharper.
“How long to get inside?” Dominic asked.
“We could plan an entry, but it’ll take time—”
“No,” he interrupted softly.
“I’m not planning.”
The room went still.
Of course he wasn’t.
“That place is built to keep people in,” Dominic continued, walking slowly toward the table. “Which means they won’t expect someone to take one out.”
He picked up a file, flipping through it lazily.
“Security focuses outward,” he added. “Fear works better that way.”
He closed the file.
“They won’t see me coming.”
The man hesitated. “…sir, with all due respect, this isn’t a simple extraction.”
Dominic looked up.
Silence.
The kind that made you immediately regret speaking.
Then
“Nothing about me is simple,” he said.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
Just… true.
The man lowered his head quickly. “Understood.”
Dominic set the file down, adjusting his sleeve again.
“Prepare everything,” he said. “Cars. Men. I want options.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And one more thing.”
They all stilled.
“If anyone in that place decides to make this difficult…”
He paused, tilting his head slightly.
“…remove the difficulty.”
No one asked what that meant.
They didn’t need to.
—
Elara sat back on the mattress, staring at the door.
Waiting.
She didn’t know for what.
That was the problem.
Everything here felt like waiting.
Waiting for food.
Waiting for footsteps.
Waiting for something bad to happen.
Her fingers tapped lightly against her knee.
One.
Two.
Three—
Footsteps.
She froze.
Her body reacted before her mind could.
Heart racing.
Breath slowing.
Eyes fixed on the door.
“…please don’t be him,” she whispered.
A pause.
Then she frowned slightly.
“…actually, maybe be him?”
She blinked.
“God, I need help.”
The footsteps stopped.
Right outside.
Silence.
Her chest tightened.
Then
The handle moved.
Elara’s breath caught.
Because whether she liked it or not…
Things were changing.
And she had a feeling—
Whatever came next…
Was going to involve him.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD