The cursed gates loomed over Layana, overpowering her brittle form. She had run from their safe tent in the middle of the forest and back to the place they had sought to run away from. She had run back to danger. To evil.

Layana backed under the shadows, praying she would not be seen. What was she thinking? Thoughtlessly running back to this place? With no one to back her up? Her companions would never know what happened to her if she died.

Layana swallowed, but she had to do this, no one would be willing enough to save Sally. Their hope and faith didn't last long enough and they already jumped to the conclusion that she and Cathy are a lost cause. But Layana didn't. That was why she was here. To save her best friend and Cathy.

Sighing, she tightened her hold on the long, thick rope. It was carefully woven from fine nylon strands by Nyla. Layana found it somewhere in the depths of her pack while Nyla was tending to the others.

She had attached a sharp, elongated stone that had a curve on one of its ends. Meticulously tightening the stone to the rope, Layana swiftly climbed the tree nearest to the wall.

Carefully hitching the end part over her shoulder as she sat at a strong branch, she aimed for the top of the wall that was now closer in her position. Shifting a little, she took a deep breath before praying for guidance.

In one strong throw, the sickle hit the other end of the wall. Dragging over the cement, it locked into place at the very top of the wall, its sharp tip digging into the cement on the other side.

Layana tugged at it a little, making sure it wouldn't fall out of place. When she was sure it was securely lodged into the wall, she carefully stood up on the branch. Two, bare feet shakily stepped on the branch as it trembled tremendously.

She grabbed on the thick rope, whispering in a shaky voice, "please don't break, don't break, don't break."

Layana closed her eyes--a foolish move. Her feet slipped off the branch, sending her colliding with the humongous wall. Layana's breath was knocked from her as she gritted her teeth and tightened her hold on the rope. Her chest and stomach stung, muscles spasming from the collision. The tree wasn't that far from the wall, but it still hurt.

Layana's breath started to struggle as she continued scaling up the wall. Her feet searching for creases and edges she can step foot on and hands blistering against the thick rope. The now familiar sticky, red substance dripped from her stinging hands. She has never seen anything like it. Both mesmerizing and equally as painful.

Grunting, she finally managed to scale the high wall and sit at its top; the glint of the silver moon met her eyes, exclaiming the horrible pain within them.

Layana sighed as she peered down the wall before quickly clutching it to assure she would not fall. After taking a brief rest to calm her tensing muscles (or lack of it), she took the sharp sickle and turned it the other way so that it was lodged on the other side of the wall where she came from.

A tremendous amount of near-death experiences later, she managed to gather the rope from the other side and then to the inside of the wall. Layana climbed down the wall in the same anxious heartbeats of her heart.

Thankfully, nobody has seen her yet as her feet brushed into contact with the dirt inside the walls. She's in.

The building was sleeping silent in the light of night. It was quiet, save for some loud snores from guards near the gate and the entrance of the building. By the walls, Layana crouched in the darkness, holding her breath as she silently moved towards the building. The front lawn was as wide as it has always been, with a couple stray bushes and trees strewn about. It created the perfect shadows for Layana to sneak through.

And once she finally reached the building, she slid into the dark space between the wall and the building. Layana exhaled, hand darting to her waistband for her dagger.

Chilled hands found mere cloth.

Blood rushed to her head as she continued to pat herself down, looking for any indication where she might have placed the dagger.

Still nothing.

The darkness of the night seemed to dawn on her and seep into her insides. How could she be this stupid? When she had adjusted the dagger back in the clearing, she suspected it must have fallen.

Layana was about to break down when something fell on her head. Out of instinct, she crouched down low on the ground, searching desperately for a shadow to hide on.

Heart thumping, she glanced up to the open window above her. A shadow stood by for a brief moment before the room plunged into total darkness. It all happened so fast but Layana's heart thumped even harder, torn between wanting to believe she knew who it was and anxiety if someone had seen her.

Curling into the dark side of the wall once more, she picked up what the person had thrown at her.

A parchment of black.

Carefully, she pried it open, heart half stopping and half thumping. Her mind went through turmoil and adrenaline, shock and anxiety as her hands tugged at the strings that held the small roll of parchment in place. Holding her breath, she finally flapped it open.

A lock of wild, curly red hair. A small, red paperclip.

Layana's hands shook, nearly dropping the items. Not because she knew who it all belonged to. She knew these things all too well. Her hand shook not because she acknowledged her friend's plea for help. Her hands shook, not because of any of those things.

It shook because she knew it wasn't supposed to be red, the paperclip. No, because it wasn't paint. It was blood. Covered in blood.

***

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