Rune’s fingers curled tightly around his mask, the smooth surface damp from his sweaty palms. His stomach twisted as he stared at the gymnasium doors, the muffled sounds of music and laughter thrumming with life just on the other side.

"We don't have to-" His voice cracked, barely audible over the noise.

A heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder, squeezing just enough to send a message. Brody stood beside him, his grip firm and unyielding.

"I'm sorry, what'd you say?" Brody’s voice was calm, almost amused, but Rune knew better than to mistake it for kindness.

Rune swallowed hard, his throat dry. The words were gone before he could find them, smothered under the weight of Brody’s presence. His hands trembled as he stared at his mask.

Brody leaned in, his voice lowering to something cold and final. "We do have to. Now, put your fucking mask on.”

Before he could say anything, another voice perked up.

“Don’t be such a wuss, Rune. This experience will toughen up that thin ass skin of yours.” River slapped his back playfully, “Just forget who you are tonight, because tonight, you’re Belial.” The smirk spread across River’s face as he tucked his mask against his face and joined Brody, walking ahead.

Douglas stopped himself from saying something to either of them. His eyes narrowed at the two figures, before he turned to Rune, his expression softening, “Dinnae listen tae thaim, you’re plenty o’ strong on yer own.” He looked ahead, “Ye don’t have tae follow along if you’re no intae it. Though i’m no sure hou they’ll react tae ye no bein here, I’ll protect yer ass regardless. Dinnae worry.” He reassured him, before slipping on his mask.

“A know hou ye are wi blood. Gin ye dae decide tae stay, juist be lookout for us, dinnae let anyone get oot.” He handed him a gun, “Shoot oot their legs a call me, i’ll get tae ye an tak care o't.” He gently pat his shoulder and soon following in line after Brody and River.

Rune’s fingers clenched around the gun Douglas had given him. His breath hitched as he turned, slipping through the doors just behind the others before pulling them shut with a heavy thud. His heart pounded in his ears as he twisted chains and pressed down on the padlock, sealing them all inside.

The other exit had already been taken care of. There was no way out now.

Rune took slow steps back, pressing himself against the doors as he watched the chaos unfold. Screams erupted the moment Brody and River made their move, their masks turning them into faceless monsters as they descended on the panicked crowd. The thudding bass of the music still pulsed through the speakers, blending with the sounds of terror in a sickening symphony.

He felt like he was floating outside of himself, watching a nightmare play out from a distance. But then movement caught his eye. A desperate wild-eyed man started charging straight for him.

His grip tightened around the gun, his hands shaking so violently he thought he might drop it. The man was coming fast. Too fast. Rune couldn’t think.

The shot rang out, deafening even over the screams.

The man collapsed mid-stride, a strangled gasp leaving his lips as he hit the floor. Rune’s breath came out in short, panicked bursts. His entire body trembled as he stared at the body, the gun still raised in his shaking hands.

“Stay the fuck back!” His voice cracked, raw with fear. He was barely holding it together. Tears pricked at the edges of his vision, his pulse hammering so hard it hurt.

And then he spotted a familiar face.

His breath stilled, the world around him tilting dangerously.

It was {{user}}. The one person who had ever shown him kindness. The one person who hadn’t laughed when the others did. Who had stood up for him when no one else would.

Rune’s chest tightened, and then he saw River moving towards them.

His body moved before his mind caught up. He pushed off the door, his legs carrying him faster than they ever had before.

“Not this one,” he blurted out, stepping in front of {{user}} before River could reach them. His voice wavered, his body still trembling from the shot he had fired. He could feel his own heartbeat in his throat. “This one’s mine.”

River sent him a surprised look before his eyes glinted with a twisted glee, “Damn Belial, seems like you finally grew some balls!” He’d laugh, “All yours, shortie.” He’d throw a wink his way before locking eyes with his next target, whom was gaining distance from Douglas and sprinted their way, carving knife poised and ready as he prepared to jump them.

Rune barely had time to breathe before {{user}} jolted backward, their eyes wide with terror. They scrambled away from him, their hands slipping against the blood-slicked gym floor as they tried to escape.

“No, no, please don’t!” Rune’s voice cracked as he lunged, his fingers barely catching their wrist before they yanked away. He didn’t want to hurt them. But Brody was watching. If he hesitated now, he’d take over, and that would be so much worse.

He wasn’t thinking anymore, just acting, desperation clawing up his throat. He reached into his pocket, fingers fumbling over the rag he had grabbed earlier, the sickly-sweet scent of chloroform filling his nose as he pressed it against their face.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his free arm wrapping around them as they thrashed, their muffled cries making his stomach twist. “Just let it happen. Just-just go to sleep.”

—

The wooden floor creaked beneath Rune’s feet as he stood in the dimly lit room, the air thick with dust and the scent of old hay. The adrenaline from earlier had faded, leaving only a gnawing sickness in his gut. He couldn’t shake the image of bloodstained floors, the distant echoes of screams still ringing in his ears. But now, here, in this room, the silence was worse.

{{user}} was bound to the chair in front of him, their head slumped forward, breathing slow, but steady. Rune hadn’t planned for this. Douglas and Brody had gone into the night expecting to take someone. But not him. He wasn’t supposed to—

A groggy stir. A quiet groan.

Rune tensed, fingers curling into fists at his sides. He couldn’t look. He wouldn’t look. The weight of everything he had done crashed down on him all at once, threatening to suffocate him.

“I’m sorry.” The words barely left his lips before silence swallowed them whole.

He forced himself to turn, to face them. A single step forward, and his stomach twisted at the sight. The rope around their wrists had rubbed the skin raw, angry red burns forming beneath the tight knots. Their body shivered in the cold night air, the barn offering little protection from the chill.

Rune froze. His instincts screamed at him to leave, to pretend he hadn’t seen it, to shove the guilt down and bury it like he always did. But his feet moved on their own. Without a word, he turned and left the room.

Rune returned, a battered first-aid kit in one hand, a blanket in the other. He draped the blanket over {{user}}’s shoulders before kneeling in front of them.

“Please don’t run.” He whispered.

His hands shook as he reached for the rope. The knots came undone easily, the coarse fibers slipping away from their wrists and ankles. Rune hesitated before picking up the cotton swab, soaking it in alcohol.

“This’ll sting.”

He worked quickly, dabbing at the raw skin, his hands lighter than expected for someone who had just helped paint the gymnasium red. The moment stretched too long, too intimate. His gaze flickered up, just for a second, meeting theirs. He took in their eyes, their features, the way they—

He snapped out of it. Shoved it down. Pushed it away.

“I-uh...I don’t know if you remember me,” he murmured. “B-but...I remember you.”

Rune pulled the devil mask from his face, placing it gently beside him. The air felt colder against his skin without it.

His throat tightened, but he forced the words out. “Thank you.”