Special Circumstances
Oh, you found a way to summon me to your world, clever girl.
— Blade
~~~
"Hey, you shouldn't be out here!"
"I—I got lost," she stammered.
As he extended his hand to guide her back, Beatrice seized his arm, skillfully twisting it behind him while simultaneously delivering a kick behind his knee.
She murmured, "Really sorry about this," just before she gently pushed him against the wall.
Overwhelmed by the maneuver, he slid down the wall, rendered unconscious by the precise force she had exerted.
With no time to lose, Beatrice continued, using the guard's keys and access card to navigate through secure doors, always listening for footsteps or the hum of approaching staff.
She reached the main exit, her heart pounding with the prospect of freedom so close at hand.
Beatrice swiped the access card once more, pressing against the door in anticipation. However, the panel beside the door beeped dishearteningly and flashed a red light.
"Access denied," the electronic voice announced through the speaker.
Frustrated but not ready to give up, Beatrice paused, examining the card for any damage before sliding it through the reader again with a steady hand.
Yet, the result was the same. The panel beeped, the red light flashed, and the voice repeated, more insistently this time, "Access denied."
Finally, an announcement echoed through the building's PA system, reverberating down the cold, sterile hallways.
"Attention all staff and visitors," the calm, authoritative voice began, "all exit accesses have been temporarily suspended due to a security breach involving a patient attempting to escape."
Her heart sank as the reality of her situation set in; the security measures were more robust than she had anticipated.
"Shit," Beatrice muttered under her breath, frustration and a hint of panic edging her voice as the reality of her situation sunk in deeper.
Every potential route of escape was now firmly closed off, each one under the watchful eyes of the facility's heightened security measures.
Blade chuckled in her mind, a sound that seemed both mocking and encouraging.
"You didn't really think it was going to be that easy, did you?" the voice taunted, yet there was a playful undertone, as if challenging her to think more creatively.
Determined, Beatrice made her way toward the sanatorium's central system room. It was the only feasible solution left to regain access to the exit doors.
As she hastened her steps, a group of men dressed in crisp black suits quickly converged on her position. Their approach was swift and purposeful.
The sound of their steps echoing through the empty hallway. As they closed in, they drew their pistols, aiming directly at her.
"Stop right there," one of the men commanded, his voice cold and authoritative.
Beatrice halted, raising her hands slowly to show she wasn't a threat, her mind racing for a way out of this encirclement.
Beatrice's heart pounded in her chest as she faced the men, her mind rapidly calculating her options.
The central system room was just a few feet away, but with guns pointed at her, any sudden move could be disastrous.
"What do you want?" Beatrice asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
"We're here to ensure you don't cause any more trouble, Mrs. Hawk," the apparent leader of the group responded.
His gaze was stern, his posture rigid with authority. "You've caused enough chaos for one night."
Beatrice glanced past the men toward the system room door. It was so close yet seemed impossibly far given her current predicament.
She needed a distraction, a momentary lapse in their attention to make her move.
"I was just trying to leave. I don't want to hurt anyone," she said, her voice laced with desperation, hoping to appeal to any sense of reason they might possess.
The men didn't lower their weapons, but the leader's eyes narrowed slightly, assessing her sincerity.
"Unfortunately, Mrs. Hawk, your intentions don't change the situation. You are coming with us, back to your room."
Beatrice shook her head firmly. "No."
"Surrender yourself!" one of the suited men demanded, his tone increasingly aggressive.
Beatrice swallowed hard, her grip tightening on the scalpel in her hand—the only weapon she had.
"Do I need to remind you, this is Atlas's doing? There must be a strong reason why Atlas placed you here, hey, other me," the internal voice of Blade taunted, sowing doubt.
"Shut up!" Beatrice snapped back at the voice in her head.
"It seems no matter what world I'm in, I'm still a loser."
"Quiet, Blade!!!" Beatrice screamed, clutching her head in frustration. The voices were becoming too much, blurring the lines between her thoughts and reality.
She looked around, realizing the gravity of her situation. The men were closing in, and she had to make a decision.
She lunged forward, using the scalpel not as a weapon but as a tool to threaten enough space to pass by the men.
"Back off! I won't hesitate!" she warned sharply.
The tension escalated quickly as Atlas's men tightened their grip on their weapons, their readiness palpable in the cold air.
"Drop the weapon, Mrs. Hawk!" one of the men commanded, his voice stern and unyielding.
"No!" Beatrice replied defiantly, clutching the scalpel even tighter. She knew she couldn't give up now—not when escape was so close.
"Drop it now!" The leader of the group pulled back the hammer of his gun, ready to fire.
"Mr. Hawk has given orders to kill you on sight under special circumstances, Mrs. Hawk, and I need to remind you that this qualifies as special circumstances."
The threat was clear and imminent, but surrendering meant certain death or worse—returning to whatever Atlas had planned for her. In a split second, she made her choice.
As the other henchmen aimed their guns at Beatrice, ready to pull their triggers, she remained steadfast.
Blade's mocking laughter resonated in her mind, taunting her.
"Wow, it seems I underestimated you. Your will is strong," Blade chuckled. "I was reluctant to help you; you seemed weak and naive."
Beatrice, her voice hoarse with exertion and defiance, shot back, fueled by adrenaline and the desperate urge to survive.
"And yet… it was you who died at the hands of Atlas! You died, and here I am, still alive and breathing, Blade! So help me get out of this, you bastard!" she screamed.
*