Patricia regains consciousness and for a moment, she forgets where she is and why she was there. The hazy memory plays in her head and her brain kick-starts and prompts her to get up quickly. She was bleeding but she didn't seem to worry about it as she takes in her surroundings. She looks back up the stairs, the doorway to the basement now half-open.

There was no noise coming from upstairs and she wondered if the boys had moved or someone had already died. She swallowed her fear, reaching for the stair railing when a distant sound catches her attention. It sounded like a chair being dragged across the floor. She stills, straining to hear and for a long moment, she could only hear her own breathing and something that seemed like water dropping from a leak.

She almost decided it was nothing when the sound came back again, making her turn around and look beyond the darkness of the basement. She reaches to the walls, navigating and hoping she would find a light switch. The hall goes on and she realizes that the basement was a lot bigger than it should be. She strains against the darkness that was now almost occupying 100% of her vision, the light from the doorway upstairs far from her now.

She continues walking when the darkness gradually lessens. There was a light at the end of the long hallway and she walks faster towards it, turning very slowly to find a big empty room. She found a bed, its blankets clean and white. The room looked liked it belong to an asylum, with it's soundproof walls and white monochrome decorations. She turned to find a screen attached to the wall in front of the bed.

She watched the different screens, showing different rooms and felt something cold run up her arms when she realized where those rooms were. One was her bedroom; she saw her bed still in disarray. The other was their kitchen. Her eyes travelled from one screen to another, seeing every room in her room. She wanted to cry, scream, anything. She felt sick and held back the want to vomit. She turned back to the room, seeing the chair at the foot of the bed. The vase filled with dead jasmines on the simple nightstand. She allows herself to look once more on the bed.

Before she could check the room for any evidence or clues as to what it was used for, the sound came again and she grabbed the nightlamp near the table and tried to turn it on. It was weak, but it was enough as she went back out of the room once again and tried to locate where the sound was coming from. Did Nathan know about this? Was he the one who placed all the cameras in my house? Thinking about it made her feel sick. She shook her head, barring the thoughts from coming through her mind. She couldn't even find herself to believe her ex-boyfriend had anything to do with it. He was there during her darkest times. When she was grieving. It was hard to believe it was all an act. She felt the tears but did not try to stop them. She felt heartbroken, afraid and betrayed.

While it was true she no longer loved Nathan, all those years together was not nothing to her. She had leaned on him and believed he was her support through her grief of losing her best friend. Before she could stop herself, she was already breaking down, sobbing against her palm to try and muffle the noise. She shook her head again and again. No, she said. Impossible.

She sucked in a breath, wiping the tears away from her cheek and stood up. She didn't believe it was Nathan. Or maybe she couldn't. Either way, she was going to get to the bottom of it all. She had to. She walked with shaky and almost wobbly legs. She wasn't ready to find out. She also wasn't ready to know if Jasmine was alive or dead. She passed by the staircase again and fear crept into her skin as she saw the basement door was closed, one single lamp hanging from the top of the stairs. Her skin prickled and she covered the night light in her hands, trying to dim out the light a little.

She walked the opposite way from the room, wanting to get to the end as fast as possible and hoping she wouldn't encounter anything along the way...or anyone. The hallway this time opened into a wider area with a window at the middle. The moonlight barely breaking through the glass. She walked over to it and glanced up, seeing that it was filled with water. It dawned on her that she was looking at the greenhouse. There was a small pond right at the center of it where Nathan and her had shared a kiss. The memory was always warm to her, but now it was tainted with doubt and fear.

She turned and found 2 doors. She felt like she was in some kind of game and one wrong move she would find herself dead, or worse. The image of the white room flashed in her mind as she approached one of the doors. She opened it and found a room similar to the white room earlier. Only this one had sheets that had seen better days. The arrangements were the same and she turned to look at the screen and covered her mouth, hiding her gasp.

She could see Jasper's uncle in the living room reading through a magazine and occasionally glancing at the wall clock. He must be waiting for Jasper to come home. Her chest tightened. Every sign was pointing at Nathan but a part of her, the one that spend so many months and years with him, refused to believe it. How can someone look you in the eye every day, tell you I love you, tell you that they understand the loss... the pain...and be lying? She couldn't take it anymore. If Nathan had anything to do with Rosemary's death... she couldn't even bare the thought of it. But...rosemary died before Jasper moved into that house... her brain started to hurt just thinking about it all. She turned to leave the room, glancing at the empty vase on the nightstand before walking out the door.

She hurriedly walked over to the next room, pushing it open with no hesitation. This time she didn't hold back the gasp. There in front of her, arms tied and mouth gagged was her best friend. Blood and bruises covered her but the moment their eyes met, Jasmine cried out. Pulling at the chains that was connected to a wall.

Patricia almost forgot how to breathe as she rushed over to her side, enveloping her in a hug. Tears matted Jasmine's face, her hair was the only thing neat and clean about her. Patricia hurriedly removed the gag in her mouth.

"Pat, get away from here," were the first words that came out of her mouth. She shook her head, tears running down her face. "Pat, you need to get out of here."

"Not without you," Pat pulls on the chain against the wall, crying and tugging at it until she let go out of exhaustion. She searched the room for anything she could use. It was an empty room, except for the single chair that was placed right in front of Jasmine.

"You have to stay quiet, Jas," she assures her best friend who had started to sob uncontrollably and shaking her head at her.

"Pat, you do not know what he is capable of," she cries. "Please, leave me here. Forget about me, please Pat."

"I'm not leaving you again! If Nathan tries to stop me, I'll kill him myself so be quiet and let me save you!" Pat was crying now, the desperation oozing out of her voice. She kneels down, cupping Jasmine's face in her hands.

"We'll get out of here, I promise," she says again, more softly and quietly this time when Jasmine looks at her, confusion on her face.

"Nathan?" She asks her, the fear in her eyes visible but the confusion was there making Pat doubt herself.

"Yes, it is Nathan, right?" she asks before Jasmine's eyes shift to something behind her. Before she could call out a warning to her, Pat felt a sharp pain on the back of her head before she lost consciousness again.

----

When she came to, she found herself sitting down, facing someone's back. The shoulders were familiar and she blinked the dizziness and throbbing pain away.

Jasper turned to meet her eyes and for a moment, Pat wanted to scream at herself to wake up from this nightmare. Jasper gave her the usual half smile that used to get her heart beating, now it just terrified her.

Her eyes met her bestfriend's and there was fear there, and an understanding. An understanding how it was so hard to believe that Jasper was the bad guy.

"Why? Your sister-" Pat tried to argue, but she couldn't even finish her sentence, trying to cope with the realization that she had slept with the enemy. That she had allowed him to come into her life. Sweep her away and made her believe they were in this together. All the while, the person she had tried so hard to catch, was the one who caught her.

"Shh," Jasper cooes, walking over to her. She flinches away from his touch, wanting to put as much space between them as she could. She loved him. She wanted to throw up.

"I didn't expect you to come here so quickly," he says. " But no matter, I got to Nathan before he could tell you anything. How does it feel? To know it's me?"

He chuckles and looks at Pat in disgust. She's only ever seen him look at her like that when they weren't friends. When they weren't-

He forces her to face him, with her eyes half closed, Patricia looked so weak. She was practically trembling. Jasper liked that. He liked the feeling of helplessness from someone else.

"You know why my sister died?" He asked her but Pat just continued sobbing against the force of his fingers on her chin. The sound of his hand slapping against her cheek echoed in the tiny room. Pat could hear Jasmine's muffled scream as she tried to get her bearings. She looked at the floor afraid of facing Jasper again.

"It's because of people like you," he continues. "You see, they wanted to pull a prank on her. So, they went on the internet to ask a stranger if anyone was interested in a small red haired girl. She was a kid. Yet people like you thought it would be fun to bully her. The weak."

"It was bad luck that a serial killer was lose at that time...and she fit the description." He walked over to Jasmine, taking strands of her beautiful hair and twisting them in his fingers. "He sent her flowers every day. She, of course, ignored it. She was like that. She was quiet, reserved. But her motherfucking bullies posted details about her online without her knowledge."

"He kept sending her flowers, more and more each day until...one day, our whole yard was filled with them," he continued. "And she was gone."

Pat turned to look at him, somehow feeling sad and uneasy about the story. "I was there. At home when she had been taken... I was also there when her body was found."

"Do you know how traumatizing that could be? Of course, the bullies that posted her information online didn't even get punished... they get to run free as my sister was buried 6ft under the ground."

"You'd think I'd be depressed about it but no, I got so obsessed with the serial killer that I had to go to therapy," he pulls away from Jasmine, a smile on his face that would make one think he loved her.

"They caught the man, you know," he explained standing and stretching. "It didn't satisfy me, though."

"I wanted all of them to pay for what they did," he explains. "My therapist told me my obsession was getting dangerous... that I was getting more interested in how this serial killer did it than why. So, I tried to understand why... by doing exactly what he did."

"Of course my target was not red heads like Jasmine here," he smiles at her and Jasmine looks away, then he turns to Pat who was now looking at him with a mixed of fear, disgust and pity. He hated that. He walks over to her, bending down that her cheeks caught his breath. She tried not to flinch under his stare. "It was people like you, who had a reputation for ruining other peoples lives. Did you really think by playing the good girl you could atone for your sins?"

Something inside her constricted. His words hit home and she couldn't even speak up or defend herself. Because it was true. She had been a horrible person. She didn't even try to recount how many lives she had ruined because she could.

"But I've changed," she manages to say with little to no conviction. She could feel his laughter against his skin.

"Change? Can anyone really change?" He pretended to contemplate, staring upwards. "That's what Rosemary's killers said...right before I killed them."

Her blood froze. She couldn't hear anything but the beating of her heart. Even Jasmine, who looked like she was crying, felt and sounded so far away from her. She pushed herself to face him, and he was already looking down at her, that cursed smile on his lips.

"Your parents should be receiving a large order of flowers tomorrow," he laughed. "I must admit though, it was really fun playing with you-"

"Jasper?"

All three of them stopped moving. Someone was here. If she wasn't mistaken she could hear it because that person was by the greenhouse. The big room with the glass roof came into her mind. Jasper sighed.

"Now this is something I didn't expect," he says, brushing a hand over Pat's face. "The universe seems to be trying so hard to delay your punishment." He says this like a lover before standing up and proceeding to leave the room.

"Don't do anything stupid," he chirps as he walks out, whistling a tune she was not familiar with.

When she was sure he was far enough, she tried to pull free from binds. They weren't normal rope and they burned through her skin each time she moved. They were too tight, but maybe if she broke a bone-

Her thoughts were interrupted by Jasmines mumbling. She turned to face her bestfriend, who had a tear stained face. She looked devastated, but Pat tried not to show any expressions on her end as she tried pulling her hand free. She could feel the rope burn through her skin when her eyes feel on the sharp edges of the cuff links that bound her friends hand to the wall.

She didn't hesitate, as she carried herself and the chair towards her, trying hard not to fall or stumble, as that would make things more complicated. She could feel something warm slipping down her arms and only then realized it was blood. She must have broken through so much skin already.

"Jasmine," she says in a stern tone. Jasmine looks at her, eyes wide and sad that Pat felt like crying, too. Jasmine had to go through such an ordeal just so Jasper could punish her. What was worse was that Pat felt like she deserved to be punished. She tried to push the thoughts aside as she tried to give her bestfriend instructions.

"I need you to try and cut the binds on my feet," she says but Jasmine looked almost catatonic. She tried calling out to her again. "Jasmine, please, we have to get out of here."

A beat passed before she found recognition in her eyes as she softly nodded. Jasmine put her hands together and worked on the binds on her feet. She was crying. With each movement, she cried even harder, almost sounding and looking desperate.

Patricia pulled her feet apart, to try and put strain on the rope hoping it would help it break apart even quicker. As each second passed, the more scared and hopeless she felt. She prayed that whoever had interrupted them was going to stay for a long while. But she couldn't get the knot of fear lose inside her. Who was it? And why had it sounded so familiar?

She felt a rush of relief when the rope snapped and her feet was free. She stood up and ran backwards to a wall, biting her lip so she wouldn't make a sound as the chair exploded behind her. She fell forward, hands shaking. Her hands were covered in new and old blood, but she didn't have time to acknowledge the pain as she dragged herself towards Jasmine, pulling away the gag in her mouth.

Her sobs felt like knives in her heart. She cupped her bestfriends face, "I'm so sorry, I am so sorry." She apologized. This was all her fault. Jasmine had just been a casualty because she had been the only person that believed Pat was a good person, deep down.

"I'm going to get you out of here," she says. She tasted tears in her mouth and hadn't even realized she was crying.

"Do you know where he keeps the keys?" she asks and Jasmine shakes her head. It broke her to see her like this. She had always been a bright ray of sunshine to her. So bright, it gave her hope. Now she was dimming and she couldn't do anything about it. She tried to stand, wobbling on unsteady feet. The hit to her head still made her dizzy but she had to find the key and get out of here.

"I'm going to go look for the key, okay?" she says but Jasmine was sobbing and merely nodded at her. She pulled her for a hug.

"I'm coming back for you, okay? I'm never leaving you behind again."

She took a leg from the broken chair that had a sharp enough edge to be useful as weapon as she began her search for the key. It was eerily quiet as she walked towards the hall she came from, brushing her hands on the wall to guide her. When the wall stopped she knew she had found the stairs up to the living room. The light had been turned off. She climbed it quietly, and slowly, trying not to make a sound as she turned the knob and opened the door.

She found herself back in the living room where Jasper and Nathan had fought. There was blood everywhere. Suddenly, she felt the familiar fear of not knowing if someone was alive or not. She tried not to think of Nathan, but she was worried and kept kicking herself for doubting him.

She tried not to look at the trail of blood running from the living room out into the hallway where Nathan had tried to help her. She made a silent promise that if she ever got out of here alive, she would make it up to him. She no longer loved Nathan, but he didn't deserve her mistrust. She sent a silent prayer that she would find Nathan alive.

She walked down the hallway and found the front door to the house wide open. Her heart skipped a beat. Who had come here? and were they still alive? She walked towards the open door, making sure to glance outside first before stepping out. From where she stood she found a body lying down on the path towards her car. It took her a few seconds to realize it was Nathan.

She jolted for him, gripping her made up weapon in her hand. He was soaked in blood and Pat couldn't even pinpoint where the injuries were and where all the blood was coming from. She glanced around her before bending down to check if he still had a pulse. She jerked back when he made the slightest of movements.

Thank god he was still alive.

"Nathan?" She whispers, carefully turning him to face her. She muffled a cry. He looked dead. His face was badly beaten; he couldn't even open his eyes. Blood gushed from his mouth and Pat stared at the wound on his neck. She was surprised he was still alive. He tried telling her something, but she could barely make it out.

She patted his pockets, hoping to find his phone as he struggled to tell her. She heard movement behind her and saw how Nathan's eyes widened just a little. She dodged just in time as Jasper swung an axe down towards her.

She screamed, rolling away from Nathan's body as she continued to stare at JAsper. He was laughing, his eyes no longer warm or kind. He looked like a mad man.

Pat got up quickly, despite the shaking in her feet. Jasper glanced down at Nathan, smiling before stepping on his wound and putting his weight into it. Nathan screamed and Pat had to step back, trying not to faint at the sight of it.

"Stop it," she finally screamed when she found her voice. Jasper turned to her, smiling. He was covered in so much blood, Pat wasn't sure if it was his or someone else's.

"Stop it," he mocked her, pressing down further. "Do you know how fucking useless it is to say that? Did they stop when my sister told them to? Did you stop when all those people you bullied asked you to?"

Pat had not realized she was crying until she could taste her tears. She shook her head, staring at Jasper, remembering how safe and welcomed she had felt with him. " Please, Jasper. They had nothing to do with this. Please, let them go. Call an ambulance. You can do whatever you want with me. I'm the one at fault. I'm the monster."

She lowered her weapon, hoping to convince him that she was giving up. He only laughed at her. Pat didn't have time to react. Jasper raised the axe from his hand and swung it towards her. Pat gasped as the axe went straight for her head.

The sound of a gun going off rang in the air and Pat heard Jasper curse, the axe falling on the ground. She turned to the direction of where the gunshot was from and saw Jasper's uncle limping down the stairs and suddenly falling over.

Pat ran just as Jasper picked the axe up and turned to her. She ran to Jasper's uncle, grabbing the gun and running towards the direction of the dense forest behind the house. She didn't have time to look for a phone and only hoped his uncle had called for help before deciding to shoot his own nephew.

Pat didn't know how she could still run, but she did. The gun felt heavy in her hands. She knew how to shoot, but the real question was could she shoot him? She ran towards the thick foliage, wanting to get as far away from the house as possible in case Jasper's uncle had called for help.

She didn't know how long she had been unconscious but it seemed to her that it was already dawn. She was thankful for the light, knowing her chances of running through this forest was higher with a little bit of light. She didn't look back to see if Jasper was following her, she just hoped he was.

When she thought she had run far enough she stopped, holding onto a tree to catch her breath. This was the only moment she allowed herself to look back, to see if JAsper had caught up to her. The forest was silent, save for the sounds of the animals waking up. She hadn't really realized how beautiful it was. When JAsper still had not shown up after a few more seconds, she grew worried realizing he could have easily gone back and was now hacking up Jasmine's body.

Fearing for her bestfriends life, she turned to run back only to see Jasper emerge from far off, the axe still in his hands, only this time it was in his less dominant hand. The gunshot may have injured him enough. She felt relieved with the thought but not any safer.

"Come on, Pat," he calls out to her. She turns around to face him, raising the gun to aim right at his chest. His smile grows wider.

"Are you going to shoot me?" he chuckles. "Go ahead. Then all this running away from who you were will be pointless. A bully, and now a murderer. Go on then. Shoot me. I'm pretty sure you have it in you." He raises his arms to his sides, giving her a perfect aim. Pat tried hard to stop her hand from shaking, hoping that he wouldn't see.

"Let Jasmin go," she tries to bargain, the gun still aimed at him. "Please, Jasper. Let her and Nathan go."

"And have them confess it was me? Let's face it Pat. There is only one way they leave this place and that is if you pull the trigger."

Jasper took a step forward, making Pat stumble back, almost losing grip of the gun.

"How does it feel? To be on the other end of fear?"

Pat was near crying. She had never been this scared. Never have felt so powerless. Somehow, she was starting to believe what he was saying. Yet, she couldn't give up. Not when Jasmin and Nathan still had a chance to live. They weren't even supposed to be part of this.

She was so lost in her thoughts she hadn't notice Jasper rushing towards her until he had raised the axe and brought it down, she turns, feeling the blade cut through the skin on her back. She turned just in time so the cut wasn't deep. She had one chance. She turned quickly facing him and pulled the trigger.

The sound of the gun going off echoed in her ears. She didn't know how many times she shot him only that they were both falling on the ground, his hand gripping her shoulder and digging down her skin.

The axe was forgotten and for a moment, they both just laid there. Pat didn't want to move. His grip loosened as his weight on her became heavier. She stared at the canopy of leaves above her. She knew she should be getting up but she was so damn tired. She didn't even feel the pain of the cut on her back. Or any of her injuries. Maybe she was already dead.

Morning was here. She could see the sky above the leaves and she allowed herself to cry. She only wished that Jasmin would be saved. That someone would come here and find them eventually. She hoped Nathan would make it. Her tears blurred her vision until she allowed herself to finally lose consciousness.