Chapter XIII - PULL THE TRIGGER

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A/N: I swear I'm alive, sorry for the inactivity-
also, take a meme instead of the usual fan art bc why tf not-

Important: This chapter is written in third person and back in the place where Rachel is. It's a shorter chapter than usual, so sorry for that (seriously, it's so short I can't even consider it a chapter). I'll try and get back to updating this in a bit once my motivation and AoD fever have returned-

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She ran.

She ran for all she could do. Gun in hand, her azure eyes scanning the pearly hallways, nervousness creeping in her.

She ran like the coward she was.

Lost in the myriad of cross paths and hallways, she could no longer tell what was the beginning and what was the end.

The rational turned irrational, all sense of logic and common sense being gone and thrown out the window at every corner and turn, every room she walked into being more grotesque than the last.

But such is the game of cat and mouse. A twisted little game that used to be so innocent but now was only a pleasure the deranged partook in.

And now, it was her turn to play.

Trapped inside this building, she figured there must be some sort of exit. Any building has doors, no?

Come on, Rachel, think.

But you must never stop running. Hesitate for a second and it could cost you your life.
So she ran.

She ran like the fool she was, desperately clinging to that silver trigger as if it were her sole salvation and savior.

She hated it inside here. It was cold, it was lonely, it was desolate.

But above all, she was being hunted.

No matter what she did she had to keep running.

So she ran.
She ran like the saint she claimed to be, her facade wearing off with every step she took.

Why she was here no longer mattered to her. Getting out was her priority.
What if Zack had hurt you? What if you didn't know about Chrona?

What if this was all a lie, a dream, a fantasy, and you were just doomed to be trapped within this matrix of 'what ifs' and hazy desires?

It scared her to think about it, so she ignored it. The hallways were so quiet you could practically hear a pin drop.

She stopped, looking at her papers. Was this really true?
Was The Logician whom this paper claimed to be?
Or was it simply written there and left on purpose to mislead, so that anyone who'd find it there captures the wrong culprit and blames it on just an innocent bystander?

No time to think about it, she decided, finding an elevator. Tapping the button, she heard rapid footsteps.
No, no!

Luckily for her, it seemed as if her game wasn't over just yet, and her life would be extended for a few minutes.

Hearing the elevator ring again, the doors opening as she ran down the hallways, tears pricking at her eyes.
It scared her enough to be here all alone. But worse was that she was being chased and she couldn't stop or it'd cost her her life, heart, and soul.

Still. This is getting boring, isn't it?
 Repeating her terror, over and over like an orchestrated play that's meant to never end?
You might be better off talking to Zack, who surprisingly isn't your boyfriend yet.

But now isn't the time to discuss and speak of him, for the blonde girl awaits command. She looked around the hallways, finding a door from which light emanated.

Opening its knob, she entered, finding a lonely typewriter, sitting all alone on top of the table.

Pink smoke filled the room as she gasped, looking at the paper, her face contorting to one of horror as she saw the blank sheet filled with letters, clicks, and taps filling the ambiance. 

To traitors: Here will be their prison forever.
"Welcome back, Rachel Gardner."

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