invasato [h.s]

76: The Heist Master

Part One of the Invasato Finale...

Harry Styles

Play dead. Lay low. Let them lower their guard. Escape.

That's what I did when they caught us in the garden, it's what I knew I had to do when I saw Elaina unconscious.

I acted like I was knocked out. I let them bring me into the basement of the museum, tie me to a chair, all while listening to their conversations—allowing me to find out where they were keeping Elaina.

And then, as soon as the opportunity presented itself, I used every ounce of strength and agility I knew I had to get myself free from the chair.

Now, I'm trying to remain unseen as I get up to the attic, to get Elaina.

I'm weaponless. I came here prepared, but they took everything when they caught us.

I don't really care who I have to get through to save her. All I know is I'll die trying if I have to.

It's getting really late, people have begun to leave but there's still enough of them around for me to blend in.

I know they've probably realized by now that I'm gone, which means my time is even more limited. They're hunting me down with every passing second.

This museum is fucking huge, I haven't seen any of the others since I left to go find Elaina in the garden. I'm just praying everyone's alive.

I shove past people looking at exhibits, keeping my head down and moving fast.

I've been in hundreds of museums, I can navigate around. The trouble comes from the surrounding threats.

I don't know how many people Carter has here. I don't know what the final plan is. I don't know where my friends are.

Things looks really bleak for us, but I'm not giving up even if this ends with me bleeding out on the ground.

I hurry up the staircase to the second level quickly, rushing down the hallways to find the closed off stairwell that will lead me to the attic. Moonlight shines through the windows, sculptures and glass cases on either side of me.

It's emptier up here, with the gala being held downstairs. Pacing down the halls, I feel my stomach turn with unease.

It could be due to the fact that I'm walking head first into a deadly situation...but something tells me that right now in these empty hallways, I'm not alone.

I pause, staying silent, listening.

Footsteps.

They're rushed...quick...and they stop a few short moments after me.

That looming presence washes over me, causing me to slowly glance over my shoulder without fully turning my head.

But before I can see anyone in full view, a hard, cold, deadly object is pressed against the back of my head. I inhale sharply through my nose, staying as still as possible knowing I don't have the upper hand right now.

"Hands up, Styles. You're done." a voice that I can only recognize as Marco taunts behind me, pressing a gun to the back of my skull.

"Feeling good about yourself, Marco?" I question, putting my hands up by my head like he wanted.

"If it were up to me, I'd shoot you dead now." he sneers.

"Ah, but you're nothing but a henchman though, right? You take orders you'll never make."