Escape Ch:18 Countdown

Ch:18

“You lied?!” Eddie repeated with a growl.

Waylon could feel himself shrinking. All his work crushed by his own stupid words. Now his next decision would be the out come of his survival. He didn’t want to face Eddie, afraid he would freeze under his gaze. If he wanted to survive though, he would have to turn soon.

He heard Eddie take an angry step towards him. Waylon forced his body to turn and face him, keeping his vulnerable back away. The look in Eddie's cold eyes screamed pure hatred for Waylon. The look made him feel sick with his heart feeling constricted.

“ I-I didn’t mean it.” Waylon said fearfully, backing up. He noticed Eddie was holding his knife in a tight grip. The sight of it had his blood freeze.

“Never cared about my marriage offer.” Eddie growled, coming closer.

“I cared! I cared!” Waylon said, trying to fix the shattered situation.

“Wanted me dead!” Eddie roared, coming more forward. Waylon stumbled over his feet, catching his balance before he could fall.

“I didn’t-” Waylon was interrupted.

“YOU USED ME!” Eddie roared, getting threateningly close as both of them rounded the table end. The situation was spiraling out of control for Waylon.

“YOU UNGRATEFUL WHORE!” Eddie yelled at him. The words hurt Waylon deeply. It felt like his heart was being torn from his chest.

“I-” he tried to start, but was interrupted again.

“Come here!” Eddie snapped. Waylon only backed up more with wide eyes, his senses telling him to run.

“COME HERE!” Eddie commanded. Waylon saw no other choice but to flee from him, and did exactly that, bolting down the halls.

“GET BACK HERE YOU BITCH!” he heard Eddie roar behind him. Waylon ran down halls, making turns and going through doors. Hearing Eddie shout commands and curses at him. There was a pause in Eddies yelling that caught Waylon's attention, but he refused to look back or stop.

“Stop!” he heard Eddie yell. The command sounded less threatening and more urgent. It tempted Waylon to stop, but he was afraid to.

“STOP!” Eddie repeated more urgently.

“DARLING!” Eddie yelled. The word pulled at Waylon's heart, he had to stop. Waylon rounded a corner, intending to slow down for Eddie when he did.

Instead of slowing, he stopped in his tracks when he was blinded by bright lights. He froze in place like a deer in head lights, the flashlights of Murkoff keeping him in place. He could just barely see the outlines of them shifting behind the lights bright glare. low whispers being heard behind the light. He took a step back at the sound of loaded guns clicking.

“I'm dead.” he thought, watching in slow motion at guns being raised to him. He shut his eyes at a sudden touch near his neck. Being surprised when he was yanked to the side instead of being shot. He opened his eyes for a split second, seeing and hearing the loud gunshots being fired at where he used to stand. If he was moved a second later, he’d be dead.

He shut his eyes again, curling up on himself when he saw who grabbed him. Covering his head with his arms and his body tensing up. His body was ready for pain expecting to be punched or stabbed. But he didn’t feel pain, he felt himself being pushed and yanked down the hall away from Murkoff.

“Run! Run now!” Eddie commanded, yanking Waylon along. Knowing that Eddie was no longer a threat at the moment, he uncurled himself and started running. Avoiding nearly being shot again as they turned down a near by hall.

He ran through the halls again. Passing doorways and rooms to escape following Murkoff. After not Hearing, or seeing, any more of the Murkoff security behind him, he slowed down. Panting out of breath when he passed through another office door.

Waylon almost came to a full stop before he was yanked back. His back side thudding harshly into a wall. his instincts had his eyes shut closed at that moment, body tensing in an attempt to protect itself. Waylon saw nothing at the time when Eddie punched him in the face. He fell to the floor with a painful groan, grabbing his aching nose with his hands. With the feeling of warm blood dripping onto his hands, he opened his eyes. watching it drip to the carpet, the blood making a tap noise every time it landed.

“Get up!” Eddie growled when he yanked him back to his feet. Waylon let out a whimper as he was pulled up, flinching against the wall. just barely standing on the floor from how high he was held. His eyes winced and he grabbed onto Eddies wrists to try and gain some small control.

“I should string your guts along this room!” Eddie yelled, shaking Waylon violently by his shirt collar.

“But I fucking can't! I've wasted too much of my time to get you here! Like hell I'm allowing those Murkoff bastards to kill you first! I'll gut you myself when I'm out of this damned place!” Eddie snarled, smashing him into the wall again. Waylon let out a whimper of pain, shutting his eyes, acting submissive to keep Eddie from attacking him again.

“For now, I'm keeping you alive just to get out. after that I'll leave you in a ditch to rot.” he said, letting Waylon go.

Waylon slowly opened his eyes after being let go. He brought his hands back to his nose, feeling warm blood touch his fingers again. He lowered his hands down, looking at the thick blood smeared on them. In his mind he felt he deserved that punch, since he did use Eddie for the longest time.

He stood up, wiping the blood off his hands to his pants. removing the last bit of blood off his face with his sleeve. Waylon reached up to touch his face again, it felt sore and ached.

“At least it's not broken.” he thought. Eddie broke it the last time he punched him. After taking a moment to gather himself, he stepped lightly over to Eddie. Watching the man who refused to look at him. as if he really wanted to be under his gaze again. Eddie was waiting impatiently by the door, standing straight with crossed arms.

When Waylon got close, Eddie continued, not waiting for him to arrive at his side. Waylon's heart felt crushed at the unfriendly gesture. He really regretted saying those things. Not because it ruined his plans, but because it drove Eddie away from him. Eddie wouldn’t trust his word of apology now, only paying attention to escaping directions. Waylon sighed lightly, recalling what he said before. Thinking what Eddie had also said before that.

He didn’t like the reason why, but Eddie was right before. He was the only thing out there for him. No one else would be waiting for him. Now though, that affectionate waiting was something aggressive and lethal. He doubted Eddie would keep him around for long when free. Either chasing him off or killing him, if he refused to leave.

Waylon hated the silence between them. He wanted to talk, but that would only make things worse. Eddies temper would rise, threatening his life again. He felt alone, nothing was out there for him, not anymore. And what was he to do when outside?

“I can't rely on Eddie's kindness like before, when free. He would be a threat outside, someone that would quickly kill me. All my specific talk of getting married “far away” to keep Eddie from killing me are right out the door, now worthless.” Waylon thought.

“We would have to go our separate ways when free. I may have to separate earlier when near the exit, avoid being attacked by Eddie.” he thought, his eyes tearing up. He blinked the water away, keeping himself together. He didn’t want Eddie to leave him. They just went through so much together, both having scars to prove it.

“Murkoff tests, riots, the puppeteer, saviors, Barker.” Waylon thought, recalling the memory’s. He had to stop, he was just torturing himself now.

He had to face facts, the relationship they had was gone. No matter how much time they had together, or what they went through. He had to hold back more tears. Taking a deep breath to suck his emotions back in. Waylon's depression repeatedly forcing its way through the walls he built.

Eddie stopped, listening for any sign of Murkoff. From lack of attention, Waylon walked into him. Eddies body tensed at the touch and he shot Waylon a cold glare over his shoulder. Waylon flinched away at the glare, creating a space between them. Eddie let out an aggravated huff, looking forward again. “This way.” Eddie said, leading down a side hall. The hall lead down to a decontamination door. Eddie passed the first door and before Waylon could pass it, the first door slammed shut. Eddie saw the door lock behind him, running past the last door just before it locked shut to. The two glanced at each other, now separated by the locked decontamination doorway.

Before either could pass words to another, the second metal layer of doors blocked the sight of each other. The sound of hissing gas heard through the metal. Waylon grew worried, questions going in his head. The door was most certainly not going to open. Murkoff had tampered with it, making it a trap. If they had been trapped in the decontamination room, they would have suffocated on gas. Luckily Eddie reacted quick enough to get out in time.

“Eddie!” Waylon yelled. He wanted to hear some kind of confirmation that Eddie was there. Hoping that Eddie didn’t abandon him after the doors shut them off from another.

“Run away from the door!” Eddie yelled from the other side, his voice muffled through the walls. Waylon felt comfort at hearing Eddie's voice. Knowing that he didn’t just leave. His comfort overshadowed what Eddie had said, blocking it out.

“What?” Waylon yelled.

“Get away from the door!” Eddie repeated. After the repeat, Waylon noticed Murkoff lights down the far hall. They were coming to check there trap. Waylon went silent, rushing off from the door. He snuck close against the walls in the shadows. Peeking around corners, taking multiple directions to get past Murkoff personnel.

He was getting nervous as more Murkoff were appearing. Waylon had to take twice as many turns to avoid patrols, back tracking on some occasions. he was afraid of getting lost in this massive office maze he was navigating. Something was going on, paranoia screaming at him to find a weapon.

His paranoia lead him to search rooms. Feeling unsafe in all the ones he passed through. while searching a desk, he found near by a broken piece of metal chair. It was big enough to fit his hand, and had a sharp jagged broken end. It wasn’t the greatest weapon to have, but it would work well enough in this situation.

The nervous grip he had on it made his knuckles white. He snuck back out into the dark halls. Creeping along the walls in the shadows.

“I should find a way back to Eddie…shouldn't I?” Waylon thought. He wanted to go find Eddie, but he was a threat now. He had to avoid threats. He knew the way out of here and he could escape by himself. But he couldn’t find it in himself to leave without him, even if Eddie wouldn’t do the same.

He took a deep breath to bring up some much needed courage. Navigating down a hall that would lead to the closest possible entrance to the building half holding Eddie. He jumped at the sound of lightning, a flash lighting up the hall. The engine was awakened, his skull feeling like it was just beaten with a brick.

“Dammit!!” he thought, wincing in pain. Luck was depleting on Waylon's side. The last luck he had was finding a weapon and that it was a pouring storm outside. The heavy rain would distort the flashes, dulling the engine's violent reactions.

He took another deep breath to continue. Finding his way to a stair case, he went slowly up a floor. he’d find a second stair case, on that floor, to go down to Eddies area. A flash of lightning lit up the narrow stair space. The feeling of another brick being smashed into his head had Waylon fall against the wall. He panted and winced, squeezing the side of his head to pressure some pain away.

He got up again, walking up the stairs with a hand on the wall. He waited for a group of Murkoff to pass by, sneaking away when they were out of sight. He jumped, hitting the wall with his side when he heard lightning. Thankfully there were no windows in the hall to see a flash.

“I need to find Eddie, he'd at least keep me from breaking down under the engine. Make sure I won't run into Murkoff under hallucination terrors.” Waylon thought, stepping quickly down a hall. He peeked around a corner, seeing a group of Murkoff standing guard down a hall.

“Why so many? There weren’t as many during the Walrider quarantine.” he thought, sneaking away as more came from another branching hall. He was beginning to feel cramped around here. Murkoff were closing in, if he didn’t pay attention he would get cornered.

He slipped by a few more guarding groups. Hiding from walking patrols. And avoided being almost shot twice. This had been going on for two hours. Waylon was becoming mentally and physically exhausted. Between the lightning storm and Murkoff, he was becoming a nervous wreck. The depression bringing down his willingness to continue. “Fucking dammit!” he whispered. Waylon had finally found the staircase, but it was guarded.
“the other one has to be guarded by now to.” he thought. He felt sick, he was trapped on this floor in the middle of a Murkoff quarantine area and Eddie was still missing.

“Is he dead, or did he escape without me?” Waylon thought. He didn’t want either of those scenarios to happen. He didn’t want to be left alone at the mercy of Murkoff. With no help willing to come for him. He had to take deep breaths again, anxiety restricting his breathing.

He leaned against a cold wall, wheezing in deep breaths. The engine was slowly coming alive under these feelings. The painful consistent buzzing in the back of his skull burning there. He needed to hide somewhere or face the engine fully activating to distort his surroundings.

He slowly went along the wall, one hand on it to keep him from falling. He peeked into a near by room for Murkoff. Finding it empty, he went in and sat down on an office chair. Gasping in air to catch up with his wheezing. When his breathing finally did catch up, a door on the other side of the room opened. Murkoff security saw him as they opened the door, pointing guns and flash lights at him.

He bolted from his chair, running through the nearby door he entered. Shots were fired into the chair right as he got up, shredding it, the bullets following after Waylon in a thick trail. A bullet went through the door way he passed, leaving a gash as it sliced the back of his leg. He yelped, stumbling down the hall as his blood dripped to the floor, leaving a trail.

He panted as he ran. The engines buzzing turning to unbearable. His eyes blurring and darkening. Flashes of red, body’s appearing to litter the floor. Another flash and the hallucination of a Murkoff soldier appeared in front of him. It made him fall, smashing into the floor shoulder first and rolling to a stop on his side.

He looked up to see the soldier, but the hall was empty. He panted as he knew it was just another hallucination. He growled in frustration, hitting the floor. He got up stiffly, feeling sore from crashing into the floor. He looked at his leg, seeing the gash drip blood.

Waylon looked up, hearing the Murkoff security coming. He headed around the corner, running down the hall. He couldn’t keep running like this. He would have to find a new place to hide and rest, or find some way off this floor.

“If I could find a drainage pipe near a window. I could climb down outside or up to the roof if I need to.” Waylon thought, rushing to find a wall with windows. He saw a flash of light from a hall. It stung his brain, but at least it meant there was a window that way.

He ran down the hall, peeking around the corner from the flashes source. No one patrolling or guarding the hall. He saw a huge window at the end of the hall. A possible escape in his site perked him up. He went up to the last corner at the end of the new hall. He quickly peeked around it. Seeing a long hall with a whole wall of windows.

“One of these has to have a rain gutter!” Waylon thought, going up to the first window. He looked through the glass, seeing no gutters. He ran further down to another window, looking out for a gutter. He turned away from the window, stunned to see a familiar face just a little down the hall. He stared blankly in surprised shock at him.

“Mr. park.” the suited man smiled, pointing a silver gun at Waylon.