I'd expected to hear the full thing, but Patrick called over Janiel and had her escort me back up to the room. Apparently, he wanted me to like surprises, but the only kind of surprises I liked involved tacos. And they were fresh out of them.

When we got back to my gilded prison, Lisa was there and smiling in the usual creepy way that Patrick seemed to want. She rushed into the bedroom and returned with a pile of clothes in her arms.

"Everything was clear so I took it upon myself to get you another change of clothes." She offered the pile to me. "You looked a little uncomfortable in that dress before, but you seem much better now. I'm glad."

"Everyone was okay?" I asked, taking hold of her hand in hopes that it would help snap her out of it. "Did you see anybody?"

"I walked all the way up and the only doors blasted in were Ian's and Roberta's. How lucky." She giggled and pushed the clothes into my hands. Her eyes darkened as she glared at Janiel. "See? I was useful."

"That's nice." Janiel responded flatly then closed the door behind us and walked over to the alcove where Leo was typing away on the computer. "Any new developments?"

"Not since the failed ambush. I can't tell if he's been injured or if he's just planning out his next move."

Lisa turned to watch them, glaring at Janiel with unprecedented disgust. What had she done this time?

I shivered and noticed that my hands were trembling. My clothes dropped to the floor with a soft thump.

Janiel straightened back up and crossed her arms in thought for a moment. "I bet he's taking the time to recover before busting out of there in a full rage mode."

"I don't know," Leo responded. "He barely made it back without her help last time and there's the close quarters to consider."

"I think," I started mumbling, but paused as my body shook and goosebumps ran down my arms and legs. Why was everything so bright in here?

Lisa stalked towards the others and slammed her hands onto her hips. "Well, considering I'm the only one who actually got to see anything thing firsthand and based on everything I know about him, my money is on him not even being there anymore. He might have slipped out already knowing who put out the hit on him so you might want to start checking the security footage at the dental clinic and any others you may have access to now. We'll be in a lot of trouble if we don't keep him posted on Ian's whereabouts."

My mouth dried out and I took a few shallow breaths before I finally managed to wet my lips enough to talk. "Um, I'll be in the bathroom if anyone needs me."

The words weren't much louder than a whisper so it wasn't much of a surprise that no one responded. Thankfully, I didn't wait for their permission or I wouldn't have made it to the toilet before I vomited.

My ears rang, my head lolled to the side of the seat, and the rest of me shuddered as I tried not to relive everything that had occurred tonight, today even.

I retched again, not very quietly this time either as I held on to the toilet for support. This was definitely a true five-star hotel, you could tell by the state of their commodes. The only way it could've been nicer was if I'd been vomiting in my own, back home. But then again, the best option was not to be doing this at all.

Clearly, that wasn't an option because I did it again, nearly missing the target. My head slid down so my feverish forehead could rest on the cool porcelain.

As I sucked in a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself and settle my rampaging insides, there was a soft knock on the door.

I wouldn't have noticed if the room outside hadn't fallen silent. It made my heaving breaths echo off the tiled floor like a prolonged organ note in an old cathedral.

Another louder succession of knocks sounded from the door, before a timid voiced Lisa spoke, "do you need anything?"

I sighed, closing my eyes, and barely whispered, "to sleep for eternity."

"What was that? I couldn't hear you."

Tears filled my eyes and I just let them roll down my nose onto the floor beneath me. I couldn't form words anymore; only pitiful whimpering escaped my lips as I began sobbing.

Why? Why did this have to happen to me? Why couldn't I just do as I was told and stay away, unattached, aloof? Everything was so much easier when I was on my own. But not even Emily really had my back. Now there was blood on my hands, literally there was blood on my hands at this moment and I'd probably smeared some on my face like an idiot, completely unaware.

I didn't even know whose blood it was. Was it from Mr. Mustache Man as he and the others shot themselves? Was it from one of the zombified guests attacking Mr. Blue?

My stomach curled at the thought, but I only dry heaved.

People were dead. Lots of people were dead. Lisa, Janiel, and Leo were probably next at some point, along with myself. Who knew if Roberta and George were alive or bleeding out somewhere? Was this my fault? If I would've just been sent to whatever hellhole facility Mr. Blue had nabbed me for, would this have happened? Would these people still be dead or in danger? Why did he have to save me? Why did Ian have to save me from that only to allow me to end up in a deeper hellhole now?

We were all going to die. Even if Patrick turned me-the thought of which had me shuddering and nearly vomiting all over again-I'd die. The real me would die before she ever had a chance to really live and I'd become a monster, just like him.

I'm not sure how long I laid on the floor, a sniveling pile of broken human, but eventually I got up, flushed the toilet for good measure, and stripped down to shower. No one barged in or bothered me with unnecessary politeness while I cleaned up. It wasn't much, but it was a tiny bit of peace-this solitude. Once I stepped outside these doors though, I'd have to deal with the mess again. I'd have to face the night ahead of me and everything that was coming. I had three lives, besides my own, that were depending on me. I couldn't just abandon them now.

First things first, I needed fresh clothes.

I knocked on the bathroom doors, then called out through them. "Can someone hand me some more clothes?"

There was a responding knock and a stern female voice. "Mind if I come in?"

It was Janiel. And as much as I didn't want to see her, I needed some answers.

"Okay."

She inched open the door and slid inside before quickly shutting it behind her.

"I'm sorry." She began, offering the clothes to me and averting her eyes even though I stood wrapped completely in a white fluffy towel.

"For what?" I snatched the clothes from her and walked to the other corner of the spacious bathroom. It was at least three times the size of mine. What was the point of it being this big?

"For all the horrible things I said about you and implied this week." She sighed, twirling the ring around her pinky. "I know he told me to do it, but I still feel bad."

In the middle of my sorting, I froze. Had I heard that correctly? "You feel bad about it?"

"Yeah, I don't know why I'm here and doing all of this other than because he said so. Can you tell me? You seem to be the only one who's unaffected."

I stared back at her, unsure if this was sort of act or if she really was controlled less than it appeared. "He's a monster who can compel others into doing what he wants. How did you get mixed up in all of this?"

Her eyes fell to the floor and she crossed her arms before she answered. "Remember that night when we all went out together? That number I got?"

"It was his?" I snapped, pulling out a third tank top from the pile. Either Lisa didn't think to look for anything else or she secretly wanted me to have as much open neck for that disgusting monster as possible. Seriously? I had at least twenty t-shirts and she didn't bother to grab a single one.

"No, he wasn't the man I met that night. I don't know what happened to him. I called and set up a coffee date, but he never showed. Then when I called him that night to ask what his excuse was, he insisted we met up face to face to apologize. His voice sounded a bit off so I asked if he'd caught a cold or something, but he just apologized again saying he'd been caught up in something."

I awkwardly pulled the brown tank top on while trying not to drop the towel. "And Patrick was there instead?"

"Yeah, he took one look at me and told me to follow him. Ever since I've been here or at work, watching you."

With even less grace, I pulled on my jean shorts and readjusted things before turning around to look at Janiel. "So why are you so mean to everyone here?"

"Wouldn't you be pissed at doing something against your will?" Her brows raised slightly and lips pursed. "They're content as is, even though Lisa looks like I could snap my fingers and she'd break in two."

That definitely sounded like the old Janiel. "I do know what that's like. I forgive you."

She smiled softly and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. "Thanks. By the way, you didn't actually, um... you didn't honestly go and sleep with him, did you?"

I turned and grabbed the rest of my clothes. "I'd rather not talk about that ever."

"I understand," she mumbled, looking sidelong at the mirror.

"Is there anything else I ought to know?" I stood next to her and whispered as softly as possible, glancing at the door and nodding.

"He's in the bedroom with Lisa having a snack right now. Leo's watching out for signs of Ian. I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you and keeping you happy."

"Why does he care if I'm happy?" My eyes narrowed and frown sharpened.

She fidgeted more with her ring, like she was looking to distract herself.

"Janiel, tell me."

"Because he's planning to turn you tonight and if you're in a better mood prior, he's convinced you'll be more malleable."

That knocked the wind out of me. I thought I'd have more time, more time to look for a way out. My arms shook and rage-filled tears leaked from my eyes as I glared at her, trying with everything I had not to shout. "I will never bend to his will. I will keep fighting him, at every chance I get."

"That'd be nice," she said. Her fingers stopped fidgeting and she sighed softly before turning to the doors. "Ready?"

"No, never," I muttered, grabbing the rest of my clothes and walking over to where my phone was hidden. "I have to pee. Could I get some privacy? It'll only take a minute."

She nodded and left.

My phone was still on and had about fifty percent life still when I noticed the text from Emily:

I really am sorry. I was worried about you and didn't know what to do. She coached me through some of your rougher nights. Please forgive me.

This was not the time to be dealing with her and that whole fiasco.

Clicking through to my contacts, I found a new addition: Ian-ICE. My jaw clenched and shook my head, he really was mocking me if he specifically labeled him as my ICE contact. Well, this was in case of an emergency so I selected his name and started typing:

Ian, it's me, Nic. He's in town and has me, Lisa, and two others at the Ritzel, room 4217. He's going to turn me. I know you may want me dead now, but please don't let him do this.

I sent it, then immediately started a follow-up text:

I'm sorry for accusing you of a lot of stuff. Just don't let me die this way.

Regret coursed through me as that one flew off into space where technology sent stuff. I brought a fist to my face and supported my head on it while I breathed. Stupid, this is exactly what he wanted me to do. I can't do that to him. It's not his fault either.

Nevermind. It's a trap. I'll find a way out. Just promise that you'll kill him if I fail.

I closed out the apps and started shoving it into my back pocket, but stopped. If I had it on me, I'd be more likely to give in and call for help. With a slight tremble in my hand, I tucked the phone once again into its hiding spot. After flushing the toilet and running the faucet for emphasis, I ventured out of the bathroom.

Leo was standing right next to the door when I turned the corner. "What took you so long?"

"It's hard to go with an audience," I snapped back and brushed past him. My heart was blasting in my ears, hopefully Patrick was too distracted to notice and no one else could hear it.

With a quick glance around the room, it was clear Patrick and Lisa were still tied up. That was bad. How much longer would she last before he just drained her dry? Shit, this might be a mistake, but oh well.

After dumping my clothes in a pile next to the bedroom doors, I knocked as loud as I could and shouted through the crack. "I'm bored. Weren't you talking about video games earlier?"

Both Janiel and Leo rushed to my sides and grabbed my arms to prevent me from knocking again.

"Don't disturb him while he's feeding," Leo whisper-shouted at me. His grip tightened painfully around my forearm.

"What are you doing?" Janiel's eyes were wide and glossy, coated in fear.

"Patrick, I said I'm bored. What type of games do you have hidden around here?" I struggled in their grip as they wrenched me away from the double-doors. "I thought you said you wanted to hang out."

"Do you have a deathwish?" Janiel shook her head at me.

The lock on the door clicked and slowly the bedroom doors opened.

The two holding me froze like a pair of deer in headlights, staring at the doors as Patrick appeared. His suit jacket was off and the top few buttons of his dress shirt were undone, but otherwise he was presentable.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to keep you waiting. I wasn't sure how long you'd be sulking in the bathroom. Let me go wash my hands." His voice bounced with a teasing tone.

I slipped from their grip and ran inside to check on Lisa. Her pants were discarded on the floor next to the bed and she lay gaping up at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath. Tiny stains of blood speckled her body, but it looked like he'd sealed each wound shut. From the tear-soaked pillow beneath Lisa's head, it was clear he hadn't made them pleasant love bites.

Gently, I sat down next to her on the bed and whispered, "Lisa? Hey, Lisa, are you okay?"

Her labored breathing was the only response I got. Panic seized me.

"Lisa? Lisa? Snap out of it," I shouted at her. "Come on. You can do it."

Patrick re-emerged from the bathroom, hands clean. He peeked into the bedroom at us. "Oh, is she finally dead? All right, Janiel, go dump her body."

"She's not dead," I yelled at him. "She's still breathing."

He rolled his eyes at me. "Semantics. Her heart's giving out. She's not going to make it through the night."

Janiel came forward and reached for the body.

Leo called out from the other room, "He's entered the dental clinic. You'll want to come see this."

Patrick's face lit up and he hurried out of the room, leaving Janiel, Lisa, and I on the bed.

"Take her to a hospital," I breathed, glancing over to the door to see if anyone heard.

Janiel's frown softened as she stared down at the nearly unconscious Lisa, whose skin was nearly translucent now and had shadows across her face. "I can't. We're not allowed to go there for any reason. I'm sorry," she whispered, then shook her head. "She deserves better."

Quickly, I turned to the side table and grabbed a pen and notepad. Scribbling out an address, I tucked it into Janiel's hand. "Dump her off there," I winked at her. "She'll be taken care of then."

"A high school?" She asked as she scanned over the piece of paper.

"Go to the gymnasium and ask for Emilia Perez. She'll be there and come running."

"I can't stay long. How do you know she'll get there quick?"

"Because only her grandmother and I call her Emilia, and I only do it to piss her off."

~

Once Janiel had Lisa propped up in a wheelchair and wheeled her out of the hotel room, I joined the two men at the computer screen. It was split into four different feeds. Two were static already, something cutting out their video feed.

The third was just a quiet, brightly lit hallway. Shouts could be heard through one of the video feeds. There was screaming as well. A moment later bright flashes of light and people rushed down that hall. It plummeted into darkness as one of the overhead lights shattered, spraying glass everywhere.

In the fourth corner of the screen, Mr. Blue sat on an all too familiar couch in the center of an all too familiar room. At least I thought it was Mr. Blue. He wasn't wearing a suit at all, but a red and white checkered shirt. He flinched a few times as some of the cries reached a crescendo. Then silence settled.

The man on the couch glanced back and forth before looking up at the camera. His lips were moving, but I couldn't make out what he was whispering. He twitched and stared at the door again.

The crunch of glass under foot echoed out of the speakers. The silhouette of a man sauntered past the camera on the third newsfeed.

"Knock, knock," a male voice sang. My heart sank. It was Ian. He hadn't gotten my messages it seemed. The tenor of his voice sounded off, not the usual teasing tone I knew. This one had a more manic, monstrous sway to it. "I said, knock, knock."

Mr. Blue on the other screen jumped, then stuttered, "who's there?"

"The big, bad wolf."

"She's not here," he shouted at the door as he jumped up and tried to smooth out the wrinkles in the shirt.

Ian stepped into view, but I honestly wish he hadn't. His left arm was covered in blood, some of it dripping onto the floor, and he left dark footprints as he walked closer to Mr. Blue. "You're right, but she was at some point. I can smell her. Where is she?"

He took a step back, failing to forge any space between the prowling Ian and himself. "Your princess is in another castle. There I said it. Now stop him."

Those last few lines were directed up at the camera. He was begging us to stop him and yet, neither Leo nor Patrick moved. That man may be a disgusting pig, but he belonged in prison.

"No, stop, Ian," I shouted at the screen. Reaching for my back pocket, I remembered my phone wasn't there. "Damn it."

I ran to the bathroom and scrambled for my phone. I dialed him as quickly as my fingers could swipe and rushed back into the room to check the video.

"Pick up, Ian. Come on," I said, glancing at the screen and noticed that the two men had moved out of the center of the screen. It rang and rang and rang, then finally there was a beep. "Ian, stop. Don't kill him. I know he's a dirtbag, but just leave him for the police. You don't have to do that. I'm okay right now. Don't do it."

Mr. Blue skidded back into view on his back, face bleeding and trying to grasp it with fingers bent back at odd angles.

It was a voicemail. The line ended and I watched in horror as he walked back into view, eyes glowing brightly with a chillingly cold smile.

Patrick wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in closer for a better look. "I guess you were too late to stop him. Now let's see what he does next. I think he's going to do it."

The whimpering voice of Mr. Blue barely reached the camera's microphone. "He said he'd call and talk to you if I did what he asked."

"Who did?" Ian crouched down and grabbed him by the checkered shirt, although it looked more red than white