I had never been more hesitant, yet frantic, to go into my apartment.

My apartment appears innocent from the outside: the blue door is tucked in the midst of other blue doors; a tiny garden bunches around the small porch; a porch light hangs above the address and the doorbell.

I rush to the porch, up the steps, and grab the doorknob. The knob shakes in my hasty grip.

"Damn it!" I slam at the door before diving into my pocket to find the keys.

From behind me, I hear Nolan hushing at me.

I pull out my lanyard of keys, jam the silver key into the keyhole, and twist it to hear a satisfying click. I turn the knob, push the door open, and burst inside.

With all the speed I could conjure, I whizz up the carpeted stairs and round the ledge to face the kitchen.

Travis was murdered in his kitchen.

Brett must be in the kitchen.

And he is, in the same predicament Nolan was in: he was tied to one of my dining chairs with rope bound to his wrists and ankles. Standing behind him is Nico, who is pulling at a roll of duct tape.

"Freeze," I hear Nolan state from behind me.

Nico stops his movements and gazes ahead, along with Brett. I peer to my left.

Nolan is standing next to me, straight and sternly composed, with the pistol cradled in his hands, aimed at Nico.

A smirk curls onto Nico's face. He places the roll on the counter behind him. "Patty." He passes by Brett to step up to him. "That's not needed." He halts and holds his palm out at him. "I'll take it."

Nolan lowers his pistol to readjust his aim at him. Nico steps backward, lining himself with Brett.

"Let's play this safe," Nolan states. "Nico, turn yourself in and no one gets hurt."

Nico clasps his hands behind him. "Patty, you were my favourite. I thought you wouldn't turn against me."

"You really think I'm that stupid to defend a murderer?" Nolan holds his pistol back up at Nico.

Nico's face turns serious. "No, you're stupid to turn to the wrong side of a murderer." He then whips out his own pistol from behind the chair and pulls the trigger.

"AHHHHHH!!!"

The pistol pops out from Nolan's hand as Nolan flies onto the ground, landing on his back. A dark liquid spreads on his shoulder and seeps into the carpet.

"PAT, NO!!!" I reach out to him, yet halt when I hear Brett scream.

"AHHHH!!! CARTER!"

I whirl to face ahead of me again.

Nico now has the muzzle of his gun pressed against Brett's temple. Brett has his eyes wide and skin white.

I stay still, taking in the twisted image; I feel my body go numb as I try to convince myself what I am witnessing is real.

"Here's a deal:" Nico's voice floods into my ears. "turn yourself in or Brett dies."

I don't move. My mind is overwhelmed grappling with the situation and now the deal. Nolan is bleeding out next to me. Brett is about to die. And to let him stay alive, I have to turn myself into the police. I'm innocent—I can't go to jail! Nico is the one who's supposed to go to jail; he murdered two of my teammates!

I flick my eyes down to focus on the choices I have. My eyes land on Nolan's pistol lying by my feet. I press my focus on it, gathering my courage.

With a shaky breath, I reach down and curl my fingers around the hard weapon. I straighten up and hold the pistol at Nico, one hand cradling the other, just like how I saw Nolan holding it.

Nico has a flat look. "That doesn't change anything. You'll still be charged with murder if you kill me."

He cocks his pistol. Brett grimaces with squeezed eyes.

Nico slides his eyes back to me. "Too bad I know how to keep my tracks clean."

Panic rises within me. I stare at the foreign weapon. I need to shoot, I need to do something, I don't know how to work it—

My pointer finger drives into trigger, propelling a blunt force against me with an ear-splitting bang. Light smoke flutters in front of my vision as I witness Nico yelling out in pain and crumbling onto his knees.

"AHHH!!!" I scream back.

I then pause in pure horror, taking in my work. In front of me, Nico is clutching onto a dark-drenched hand. The blood streams onto the tile flooring and pools around his fallen pistol.

My eyes are wide, my heart is slamming against my chest, my body is covered with sweat, clinging onto my clothes. I shot him... I shot Nico...

I flick my eyes up to Brett. Brett is staring wide-eyed at me, his chest rising up and down. Blood is sprinkled on the right side of his face and arm, but he is breathing.

I then peer down to my left. Nolan is still laying on the ground; the dark liquid has expanded around him and on his shirt.

"PAT!"

I round him and kneel next to him while peering at his bloodied shoulder. In the midst of the damp, darkened shirt is a small hole through the fabric.

"Oh my goodness, Pat, are you alive?" I mutter with large eyes.

"Don't take it out," I hear Nolan croak out.

I crane my head to gaze at his face. His face is still and eyes are wide, directed at the ceiling. His chest is rising and falling heavily.

"Don't take out the bullet or else I'll bleed to death," he explains.

"Call nine-one-one!" Brett hollers from my left.

I whirl to him as my stomach plummets. "If I do, they'll call the police when they see me and arrest me!"

"Even better!" Brett presses at his restraints to lean toward me. "Nico's here and he has to be arrested!"

Gaping, I flick my eyes down to Nico. Nico is in a small ball, his forehead against the tile flooring, as he whimpers at his bloodied hand. I snap my eyes to Nolan, who is staring up ahead in a daze, his own shoulder pouring out blood.

With a quick nod, I drop the pistol, pull out the smartphone in my pocket, and shakily dial the three numbers.