Desperate Escape

Victor crashed into the wall by the entrance, using me as an unwitting cushion. The impact sent a jolt of pain through my shoulder as I shot him a reproachful glare. Ignoring my affectionate gaze, he nonchalantly opened the door, allowing us to slip inside the dangerously decrepit building. Carelessly dropping me, we surveyed our surroundings. We found ourselves in a lengthy, sterile corridor intersected by numerous perpendicular passageways, adorned with countless doorways. It resembled a labyrinth, with the ultimate prize awaiting us at the end: Ben's lifeless body. Echoes of voices reverberated through the halls, transforming the place into a bustling hive of activity. The sound of high-heels and boots resounded against the tiled floors, creating a symphony of footsteps.

Victor stealthily traversed the hallway, his dark coat blending inconspicuously amidst the surroundings like an out-of-place element at a refined garden party. I followed suit, matching his furtive steps, until we reached the first intersection. Victor cautiously peered around the corner, directing his gaze towards the front of the building. The hallway ahead led to the lobby, where a glimpse of the front desk revealed a cluster of individuals clad in police uniforms. As my eyes scanned the scene, a sense of dread washed over me when I recognized Officer Phil among them. The realization hit me like a wave, causing my complexion to pale. This man hadn't deceived me about being taken to the Third Precinct, but everything else he had told me was a lie.

Before I could dwell on my frustrations, Victor abruptly seized my hand and forcefully pulled me in the opposite direction. The building extended into the distance, but its expanse was abruptly interrupted by a massive dividing wall. Our current hallway terminated at that point, with paths branching off to the left and right, but none continuing straight ahead. The right passage proved to be a dead end, while the left led us deeper into the heart of the building. Despite the bustling activity within the structure, the corridors we traversed were curiously devoid of people, enveloped in an eerie stillness.

The stark white corridors induced a throbbing headache, exacerbating my disorientation. I was prone to getting lost even in walk-in closets. "Do you have any clue where they might be keeping the bodies?" I whispered to Victor, hoping for some guidance.

He shook his head, uncertainty lingering in his eyes. "No, but I don't think we'll..." Before he could finish his sentence, Victor abruptly tugged me down the right hallway, swiftly pressing my body against his own, while his icy hand firmly covered my mouth, silencing any further words.

Though I was growing weary of Victor's habit of physically restraining me, I could at least acknowledge that it served a purpose. As we stood near the corner, the same diminutive, suited man from earlier strode purposefully down the hallway behind us, then made a left turn without sparing us a glance. Had he looked our way, he would have surely spotted us lurking around the corner, exposed and vulnerable. The man continued his brisk pace for about twenty yards before taking a right turn, vanishing from our line of sight. Victor released his grip on me and swiftly pursued the stranger, prompting me to hasten my steps and follow closely behind him.

My inability to control my newfound superpower became glaringly evident as I misjudged my speed. Consequently, as Victor reached the corner, I arrived only a split second later. The collision sent us sprawling onto the floor in a tangled mess of limbs, with my teeth inadvertently sinking into something solid—Victor's arm. He let out a low growl, attempting to forcefully push me away, while I struggled to disentangle myself. Eventually, Victor smoothly slipped out from beneath my flailing body, escaping my accidental assault. Remarkably, amidst all the chaos, we remained unnoticed by those around us, further fueling my growing suspicion that our successful infiltration was a bit too good to be true.

Victor's tightly pursed lips and narrowed eyes betrayed an unease brewing within his mind. Reluctantly, but driven by my need to unravel the secrets concealed within his thoughts, I mustered the courage to probe further. In a hushed whisper, I asked, "Do you have a bad feeling about this?" His response came in the form of a stern glare, effectively silencing any further inquiries.

Suddenly, a distinct sound resembling the latch of a door reaches our ears, prompting both Victor and I to shift our attention down the hallway. The passageway extended into the other half of the building, and approximately thirty yards away, I noticed an open door on the left. Without hesitation, Victor hastened towards it, and I followed closely behind. As we arrived at the entrance, we paused momentarily, allowing Victor to cautiously peer inside. Sensing a sense of urgency, he firmly grasped my arm and pulled me into the room.

We stumbled upon a fully equipped coroner's office, complete with gleaming metal furniture covered in silver sheets. Across from the entrance, a door beckoned us towards a chilling freezer at the rear. With Victor leading the way, we ventured into the back room, where an expansive wall housed rows of metal drawers. Each drawer bore a square plate inscribed with words. A shiver ran down my spine as I rubbed my arms, seeking warmth in the frigid air that enveloped the room.

Victor stepped forward, his eyes scanning the plates meticulously. Starting from the right, he gradually made his way towards the center until he abruptly froze, fixated on a drawer positioned at waist height. Curiosity compelled me to step beside him, and as my gaze fell upon the nameplate, my complexion drained of color. "Benjamin Thompson," I whispered, my voice trembling. I turned to Victor, searching for confirmation. "Do you truly believe it's him?"

"There's only one way to answer that question," he commented.

We positioned ourselves on either side of the nameplate, and with a determined motion, Victor pulled the drawer open. It glided out smoothly, revealing a frost-covered, semi-transparent bag that cradled a form with the unmistakable silhouette of a human body. Drawing a deep breath, Victor unzipped the bag at the top, causing it to split open, exposing the lifeless figure within. It was Ben. Overwhelmed by a mix of horror and grief, I instinctively covered my mouth, unable to tear my eyes away. Dizziness engulfed me, causing the world to spin.

My back pressed against the cold wall of the freezer, and I trembled uncontrollably. "Oh my god..." I uttered in a barely audible whisper. As Victor continued to unzip the bag, gently extracting Ben's naked body from the freezer drawer, I managed to find my voice amidst the shock. "Are we... Are we really taking him with us?" I choked out, the weight of the situation suffocating me.

"Unless you possess the ability to teleport him elsewhere," Victor retorted, his tone reflecting the practicality of our predicament.

"Then, at the very least, we should find something to cover him," I insisted, feeling unsettled by the sight of his frozen limbs.

Thankfully, we located a nearby white cloth, which we promptly wrapped around Ben's lifeless form. With a display of strength, Victor hoisted Ben's body over his shoulder, the corpse remaining unnaturally rigid against his back. I pushed myself away from the chilling wall, maintaining a cautious distance from the macabre duo. As we turned towards the exit, preparing to face whatever new terrors awaited us, we were met with an unexpected and ominous surprise.

A sinister smile adorned the face of the short, bespectacled man as he positioned himself in the doorway. "Good evening," he greeted us, his voice oozing with an unsettling smoothness. It became clear to me that our easy entry into the building was no coincidence, and any hopes of divine intervention were swiftly shattered.

Victor's clenched teeth emitted an audible grinding sound. "Move aside, Field," he commanded the short man.

Regrettably, the man responded with an eerie calmness. "I'm afraid I can't comply, Victor. Mr. Ruthven is eager to have a conversation with you." His gaze shifted towards me, and a chill ran down my spine as those glassy eyes bore into my soul. "And he has a particular interest in meeting you, miss".

"I'm afraid Ruthven will have to live with disappointment," Victor asserted defiantly. With a swift motion, he pulled Ben's lifeless body off his shoulder and hurled it at our captor, Field.

Field's eyes widened in horror as he attempted to evade the incoming collision, but he failed to evade the impact. The corpse struck him forcefully, causing both bodies to collapse in a chaotic tangle of rigid and writhing limbs. As Field raised his head from the floor, Victor swiftly knelt down and delivered a powerful punch to the man's face. The force of the blow shattered his glasses, leaving them broken and his jaw presumably fractured. Field slumped to the ground, unconscious, as I stood there in a state of shock, observing the aftermath of the altercation.

"You threw Ben!" I yelled at him.

"It was a necessity," Victor countered while he picked up Ben.

"How could you just toss him aside like a mere weight?" I protested.

"With strength, now move," he ordered, forcefully pushing me towards the door leading back into the hallway.

I took the lead, swiftly guiding us out into the passage. However, our momentum abruptly halted as our eyes locked onto a group of armed guards advancing towards us from the front of the building. Their attire mirrored that of the guards we had encountered at the warehouse, and accompanying them were half a dozen individuals donning police uniforms. Among them, I spotted Officer Phil, his expression far from welcoming, mirroring the sentiment I held towards him. Instinctively, Victor and I pivoted and dashed down the passage in the opposite direction, urgently seeking an escape route.

Casting a quick glance over my shoulder, my heart sank as I witnessed half of the officers apprehending Vincent, while the other half continued their pursuit of me. As if fate had a cruel sense of humor, the individuals wearing police uniforms began to undergo a horrifying transformation right before my eyes. Their human façades were discarded as their bodies expanded, fur erupted from their skin, and their eyes took on the familiar predatory hue of orange. Their features contorted, elongating grotesquely, and their mouths brimmed with menacing rows of razor-sharp teeth. In a matter of moments, I found myself being relentlessly chased by a pack of werewolves, their bestial forms in hot pursuit, with the enigmatic men in black hot on their heels.

The once uniformed cops had undergone a startling transformation, becoming significantly swifter and more agile in their lupine forms. With relentless determination, they bounded down the hallway, their predatory instincts driving them to launch themselves towards me. Their pointed claws gleamed ominously, poised to shred me to pieces. A startled yelp escaped my lips as I instinctively tapped into my superhuman abilities, propelling myself into an overdrive state. My feet blurred across the linoleum floors, benefiting from enhanced traction. In contrast, their claws audibly clacked against the surface, their wild energy expenditure focused more on utilizing their lethal claws than achieving optimal efficiency with their padded paws.

Despite my increased speed, I found that it didn't create a significant distance between myself and the pursuing werewolves, if any at all. While the men in black struggled to keep pace, a handful of the transformed creatures managed to close in on me, lunging in an attempt to capture their prey. Thinking quickly, I decided to employ a daring move, aiming to outmaneuver them. With a sudden motion, I dropped down low, causing the lunging werewolves to miss their target and sail over me, grasping at nothing but air. As a result, they crashed into the wall just ahead of me, their claws skidding along the unforgiving linoleum surface, ultimately slamming them against the wall.

As I raced down the dwindling hallway, I became acutely aware of a pressing dilemma—I was rapidly running out of space. My gaze fell upon the final intersecting corridor, extending from the front to the back of the building. Yet, my attention was captivated by a door on the right-hand side, beyond the perpendicular passage, adorned with a strikingly vibrant sign that beckoned with the words "Exit." However, this presented another predicament—I had no grasp on how to decelerate my superhuman speed. In the past, I relied on Victor's sturdy presence to halt my momentum, but these pursuing werewolves were unlikely to oblige such a request.

In a stroke of desperation and instinct, my eyes caught sight of the doorknob, gleaming within my reach. Summoning every ounce of dexterity, I managed to snatch the handle, deftly twisting it. The door swung open, and with a swift motion, I propelled myself through the threshold, seeking refuge within.

Upon descending the fire escape stairwell, I discovered the coveted exit door positioned to my left. With a surge of urgency, I forcefully pushed it open, triggering the piercing wail of the alarm system. The door behind me swung open with a resounding crash, signifying the relentless pursuit of the werewolves. To compound the dire situation, a perimeter patrol guard materialized before me, accompanied by two menacing attack dogs. It seemed that luck was not on my side this fateful night.

The patrol guard released his formidable canines, and the ferocious hounds lunged in my direction. Acting swiftly, I swiftly retreated back inside the stairwell, instinctively pressing myself against the wall adjacent to the exit. In a surprising turn of events, the dogs, caught up in their unleashed aggression, raced past me, inadvertently colliding with the pursuing werewolves. The scene swiftly devolved into a chaotic maelstrom of gnashing teeth and slashing claws as the dogs clashed with their lupine adversaries.

With the patrol guards trailing behind, their sluggish pace unable to match my speed, I swiftly ascended the stairs, each step propelling me closer to the top. However, the respite of finding an alternate floor to escape onto eluded me, leaving me standing precariously at the summit of the staircase. With limited options remaining, I seized the opportunity presented by the roof door, hurtling myself through its threshold and into the cool embrace of the night air. The relentless werewolves, unyielding in their pursuit, trailed closely behind, their feral instincts driving them forward.