rescue mission gone wrong

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

 Alina's breath was uneven, her heart was thudding, and her palms were sweaty as she stared down the unconscious figure of Tom, who, she knew, had been kidnapped by Heather and Billy. Examining his tight face, she found a few black streaks crawling up it like worms, and knew that what she'd feared was true. He'd been flayed. And if he was here... her eyes darted around the room anxiously. How many of the flayed had infiltrated the hospital? Would she see Billy here? Heather? Where had Mrs. Driscoll gone? Was she roaming the bloodstained halls, too?

Crouching down before the broken vase, Alina found it was also stained with blood, which meant that Tom had been knocked out by it. Since he was flayed, she deduced that it was Nancy and Jonathan's doing. But where had they gone? They must've fled after knocking him out, surely. But they hadn't made their way back to the waiting room. That meant they were most likely on another floor.

She had to find them fast. Alina left Mrs. Driscoll's room and ran back to the stairwell, closing her eyes when she passed the corpses. Her stomach was queasy, but she ran anyway, heading down the next floor near where the bloodstains lay. Maybe the flayed had chased them down here?

Making her way into this hallway, Alina passed another set of dead doctors, one of them propped up against the wall like her dad had been, his eyes glassy. She stepped back, trying to get as far away as possible from it, but she couldn't stop looking into his dead eyes and picturing the dead eyes of Brandon Fairgrieves. Her stomach contorted, and then she was throwing up again, though it was mostly water this time. Her head ached and her mouth tasted horrible, and Alina wanted to get as far away from the bodies as possible. So, wiping her mouth on her now filthy lavender shirt, she began to run away, and that was when she saw him.

At the end of the hallway was a man, walking up to an area labeled Construction Area: Authorized Personnel Only, and pulling back the curtain. Alina squinted, noticing his shirt was covered in bloodstains, and that the black streaks were crawling up his neck, too. He was flayed. Another one. Another one with their bodies stripped away from them. Another one with their minds ripped in two.

She was crying now, tears dripping down her cheeks, one hand over her mouth to try and cover her sobs. The hall smelled like a mixture of blood and antiseptic, and it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to assume that all of the doctors in the hospital were dead. Dead, dead, dead.

She knew the flayed man was following Nancy and Jonathan, for why else would he be walking with the thrill of the chase, the excitement—and it was like she could feel the incitement quivering all around her, sending a chill down her spine—of the possibility, no, the reality, of two new people to take for its own?

Not if I can help it, Alina thought. And then she realized how absolutely terrified she was.

Come on, be brave. This isn't the time to tense up. Nancy and Jonathan need you.

Nancy and Jonathan! Nancy, the girl made of steel, who Alina hadn't even liked when they'd first met, who she now knew to be a certified badass who'd do anything to protect them. And Jonathan, her brother, who called her his best friend before she even felt like a part of his world, who loved Skywalker and Joyce and who had built Castle Byers with Will. These were the people Alina cared about. These were the people she had to save.

Alina had to be brave. So she rubbed her palms together, sparking a heat, and began to follow the flayed man. Pushing back the curtain, she caught sight of him up ahead, finding that he was walking down the halls nonchalantly, like he was heading to a bakery instead of chasing after two terrified people. And she could hear the two of them now, their screams lighting up the air, their heavy footfalls as they sprinted as far away from the flayed man as they could. Alina wanted to run, but she knew that if she did, she'd be caught and this would all be for nothing, so she instead settled for a brisk pace, walking at a distance far enough away that the man didn't see her. As her palms flashed menacingly and the lights above continued to flicker, Alina Fairgrieves-Byers thought that this might just take the cake for the scariest moment in her entire life. Which was saying an awful lot, given the shit she'd gone through.

She didn't know how long she followed after the flayed man down the hallway, all she knew was that eventually, he stopped in front of a hospital room. With a growl, he thrust his fist through the glass window without a care for the blood now dripping down his arm. Alina stepped a little closer, hearing a scream—Nancy's scream—coming from inside the room. She'd found them. And they were indeed in trouble.

The flayed man stuck his head through the window. His voice was gravelly as he spoke to Nancy and Jonathan. "Hi there."

There was a click, and Alina knew he had unlocked the door from the inside. She crept forward a little more, thinking wildly about how places needed to stop adding windows to their doors because this was the second time a flayed person had broken them, letting her palms be set alight. She knew all of the man's attention was on Nancy and Jonathan now. He didn't seem to have figured out she was following him yet.

He opened the door, and Alina lunged forward, pressing herself against the wall just outside. She caught a glimpse of Nancy and Jonathan's terrified faces and waited, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly it had been a wonder the flayed man hadn't heard it. It was agony listening to Nancy and Jonathan's petrified gasps, but she knew she had to wait for the right moment.

Now this felt like a horror movie. The sauna test was nothing to this. The corpses, the leisurely walk—whoever it was that had been flayed had turned into the killer. Alina just had to make sure he didn't make any more victims.

"I'm here for you, Nancy Drew," taunted the flayed man, and that was when it clicked who this man might be—one of Tom's coworkers from the Post. Nancy had told her all about the assholes who worked there that had christened her with that name.

I don't think Gabe will be wanting to work there anymore after all of this, Alina thought, and then, realizing the door was about to close, lunged forward and pulled it open. And that was when Jonathan threw himself at the man in an attempt to protect Nancy.

The flayed man threw him off easily, and then closed a hand around his throat, effectively cutting off his air supply. Alina's eyes widened as Nancy screamed, "No!", attempting to get him off of her boyfriend, but the flayed man just threw her aside like she was nothing. A scream tearing loose from her lips, Nancy flew into the air and slammed into the wall, and that was when Alina knew she had to move.

With a sort of war cry, Alina ran forward, her palms inflamed with red, and grabbed the flayed man around the neck. Unlike last year, with Billy, she didn't try and pull him back, merely held strong, causing him to let out a roar of pain as his skin blistered under her touch. He likes it cold, she thought wildly, as he fell to the ground, howling.

"Leave them alone!" Alina shouted, for one of his hands was still on Jonathan's throat and his face was turning purple. This time, she anticipated a blow, and jumped out of the way just as the flayed man headbutted and threw Jonathan aside. Jonathan crashed into a shelf and let out a groan, and that was when the flayed man actually smiled.

"Well, well, well," he said softly. Almost soothingly. "What do we have here?"

"Alina!" Nancy moaned from her place on the ground. The flayed man tilted his head, and recognition lit up his eyes. His smile grew wider.

"Ah, of course," he chirped, even though the skin on his neck was raw and red and there was a patch on his head that had been completely taken over by those black veins. "Perfect timing." And this time, Alina didn't have time to react before he was grabbing her by the throat.

Now Alina knew how El had felt back in the sauna, because it was her turn to claw desperately at the flayed man, her air cut off. Her lungs almost immediately began to burn and her feet were lifted off the ground, and the flayed man's smile curved into a sneer. "I'm not supposed to kill you," he said, as Alina batted at his arms uselessly, her energy vanquished, "but it's fun just playing." And then he slammed his head into her nose, just like he'd done with Jonathan.

There was a sickening crack and instant pain, blood immediately beginning to spew from the wound. Alina recalled the multiple blood noses she'd had in the past and knew this wasn't from using her abilities. Her nose had been broken.

But she couldn't breathe, and her face was turning purple, and she thought she was really going to die, and she didn't even have time to contemplate the flayed man's frightening words because she was spending every second just trying to stay alive. She could feel the darkness beginning to fade in, and she welcomed it, because anything was better than this, and that was when she was thrown into the air like Jonathan and Nancy had been.

Alina couldn't even scream as she crashed over the medicine cart, her knee erupting with instant pain, tumbling to the ground right on her bad ribs. Her vision went spotty for a second and it was like she'd been stabbed, shot, and set alight all at the same time. It hurt, almost as bad as it had when she was dying last year, and her face was wet with tears and she truly thought she was going to die.

Now that Alina and her abilities were out of the way, the flayed man lifted up a table, meaning to slam it on Jonathan who was attempting to stagger to his feet. Nancy screamed his name and Alina closed her eyes as the blow hit home, and there was a sickening thud as Jonathan fell back onto the floor.

Shit. Shit. Shit. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. He was going to kill Jonathan.

She had to do something. So, wheezing heavily, her ribs still flickering with pain, Alina attempted to get to her feet, because all of the flayed man's attention was on Jonathan. Grabbing hold of the medicine cart that had cut her knee open, Alina first tried to sit up, but was enveloped with so much pain with that one move that she had to take a couple seconds to breathe. Her energy flickered feebly in her hands and she looked down at them, attempting to light the spark into a fire.

She was too late, however, to stop the flayed man from bringing the table down on Jonathan's head again, but Nancy wasn't. With a feral scream, the older girl jammed a pair of scissors right into his back.

The flayed man staggered, a howl of pain erupting from his lips, and turned to Nancy, who was backing up. Alina crawled towards Jonathan, who wasn't responding, and nudged his shoulder. He let out a groan.

"Jonathan." Her voice was thick from the blood coming out of her nose. "Jonathan. We have to get up." Her entire body was in agony, but now that her adrenaline had kicked in, it had diminished the pain to something more manageable. She looped her arm around her older brother. His face was bright red with pain. "Can you stand?"

Then out of the corner of her eye, Alina saw the flayed man, who, unfortunately, hadn't been killed by Nancy's blow. And he was making her way towards her almost zombie like, groaning, his hands grappling at his shoulder. He pulled them out with a grunt and a spray of blood. "You bitch," he growled.

At the sight of her so defenseless, Jonathan seemed to regain his voice. "Nancy! Run!" he urged. For once, Nancy took his advice.

With a whimper, she sprung forward, throwing the medicine cart right at the flayed man as a barrier. By throwing things aside, Nancy managed to reach the door, where she threw it open and made her escape back into the terrifying hospital hallways. The flayed man staggered after her, leaving Alina and Jonathan both on the floor in varying degrees of pain. Alina thought she might puke again.

She didn't, though. Instead she just tried to catch her bearings, tried to find the main sources of her injuries, which turned out to be her throat, her nose, her left knee, and her ribs. After a moment, breathing hard, Jonathan finally spoke, his voice croaky.

"Alina—Jesus, what are you... what are you doing here? You were... you were supposed to wait downstairs."

Alina held her shirt to her face, trying to stem the flow of blood from her nose. "I... I knew something wasn't right about all of this," she explained, her words slurring slightly. "I could tell. I needed to make sure you were okay."

"Can you... can you stand?" Jonathan asked. "We have to go. We have to get out of here."

Alina attempted to, but her knees just buckled, sending her back to the ground. "Shit—no," she croaked, her body alight with pain. "I can't. Can you?"

Pressing her cheek to the cold floor, Alina watched Jonathan shakily try to stand. He grappled for the same table he'd been hit with, and, with a strained grunt, managed to get himself off of the ground. Before he could get any further, though, someone kicked the table out from under him, sending him right back down again. Jonathan coughed, his forehead glistening with sweat, and attempted to get up again, but he couldn't. There was something wrong.

Alina's bleary eyes flickered up to the person who'd kicked the table, and, instead of the flayed man from earlier, she found Tom, who grinned sadistically down at the siblings.

"Where are you going?" he asked, and his voice echoed through the hospital room.

Well, this was another reason Alina hated hospitals.

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧