ʟɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ: ᴍʏꜱᴛᴇʀɪᴏɴ x ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Chapter 18: The Deathless Dies

V/n was exhausted beyond belief. 

Her legs shook as limped through the shadows, her hollow breathing echoing off into nowhere. She should've known that this would be hard, but with everything that had happened in the last couple of hours, she was shocked to even still be standing, let alone fighting. 

She glanced beside her, gazing out at a party of cultists searching for someone. That someone was V/n herself, or The Deathless, as they lovingly referred to her. Those guys may have had the advantage in numbers, but none of them knew the U-STOR-IT's layout, as well as Mysterion did.  

He explained he had a summer job there a few years ago, so he knew of all of the 'staff shortcuts.' They were traveling along one now, a tunnel that traveled from unit to unit via holes in the side of each connected area of storage. 

He called it; "The tunnel that travels from unit to unit via holes in the side of each connected area of storage." How clever. It rolled right off the tongue. 

Though, no matter how distasteful the naming, the shortcut did seem to prove effective by V/n's standard. The pair ducked from unit to unit, avoiding cultists while exposed to their vision and silently breaking through layers of tinfoil left behind by Professor Chaos on the interiors.

 Eventually when V/n voiced her need to sit down, they took temporary refuge inside of a dark, musky unit with a few flickering overhead light-bulbs that barely illuminated their surroundings.  

V/n's aching joints sighed in relief as she sat herself down on a nearby cardboard box, though she did feel the unmistakable sting of an open wound on her leg. She looked down to examine it. A giant gash sat there on her leg, oozing out blood and bodily fluids by the gallon. V/n let out a short gasp in surprise. How had that happened? 

"Probably from one of those serrated knives that those cultists carry around," She grumbled in her head bitterly. She vaguely remembered getting nailed with one.

Retching at the sight, she gently put her leg down and raked her shaking hands through her h/l hair. She couldn't afford to panic. What would Mysterion say? She looked over to him. 

He looked like he was doing some kind of surveillance check on their surroundings, sweeping an analytical glare at every little thing in sight. In a way it was amusing to watch, she was doing something similar to that less than a week ago when she was scared of encountering him.

"I think we're safe for now," Mysterion grunted, nodding towards his companion. "Are you feeling alright?" He moved over to V/n, stopping himself short at the sight of her leg wound. "Crap. Is it infected?" V/n glanced down at the gash casually, taking mental note of the white puss that was beginning to pool and crust over the top of it. She looked up at him. "Um. No." Shakily, she stood up, repressing her wincing. "Let's just keep moving. The nights not getting any younger here." As she attempted to trudge past him, Mysterion shook his head, then grabbed V/n squarely by the shoulders and sat her back down.

"You need to stay here and rest," He insisted. "I don't want you getting yourself more hurt than you already are." V/n scoffed but didn't protest. She wanted to save Cassandra, but her leg was starting to ache horribly.  

"Here, let me look at it." Mysterion knelt, taking V/n's leg in his hands. She whimpered slightly at his cold touch, but not because it had hurt her. 

It felt weird to have him this close, especially after she had almost kissed him half an hour ago. The memory of that moment made V/n want to jump away from him and go bury herself in some garbage, but she held her breath and stayed perfectly still as Mysterion examined her wound. After a moment of silence, he gently placed V/n's leg back onto the ground. He moved to sit next to her on the cardboard box, heaving an exasperated sigh as he did. Straightening his posture slightly, he flicked his gaze towards her. She gazed back.