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The alleyway stretches endlessly, a narrow path of escape. Dim light from a distant streetlamp barely pierces the shadows, casting long, eerie shapes along the walls. The air reeks of wet concrete- and something far more sinister.
"I won! I really won!" Chance laughs, though it’s forced, a rough cough breaking through as he remembers his carefully constructed facade. He stands there, chest puffed out, attempting to mask his unease.
"I mean, of course I did. I'm the best, aren't I?" He glances over at iTrapped, waiting for the usual nod of approval, the faint glimmer of respect he’s grown used to.
But they don't respond. Their gaze is distant, their posture stiff. Instead, they simply stand still, their silhouette lost in the shadows, unreadable. Chance halts, his steps faltering, before turning back to face them once more. “'Trap? What's wrong?"
“Don’t call me that.” They growl, their tone dripping with bitterness, filled with resentment- so unlike his usual self.
What had happened to him? Why did he sound so… angry?
Chance furrows his brows, a look of confusion overtaking his features. For the first time, his confidence wavers. “What’s… going on? You- you're scaring me.”
But iTrapped doesn't move. Their eyes lock onto him, making his heart thump uncomfortably in his chest. But it was the words that came from their mouth that made his blood run cold.
"You just won’t die, huh?"
What...? Did Chance hear that correctly?
He blinks, the words catching him off guard. He tries to make sense of them, but before he can react, iTrapped moves. Their hand slips into their coat, and they draw a jet-black blade, its surface gleaming ominously, a faint hum radiating from it like a warning. Chance stumbles back, eyes wide, his heart racing.
“Wh-” he begins, but the question dies in his throat as the weight of the situation settles in.
Without warning, iTrapped lunges forward. The blade cuts through the air with a hiss, quickly finding its mark. The cold steel sinks into his side, a sharp, searing pain. It burns. He gasps, his body going rigid, then crumples to his knees, the world spinning around him as blood spills from the wound, staining the ground beneath him. But he cannot bring himself to focus on the pain- all that haunts his mind is the relentless, unresolved question.
What-? Why would they do this? What could have driven them to turn against him, to shatter everything they once shared, and do such a thing?
"W-Why...?" The question escapes from his lips in a pained whisper, his chest heaving as he struggles to stay conscious. "Why would you do this...?"
For a moment, iTrapped remains silent. They simply stand there, their breath steady and controlled, as if this were nothing more than an ordinary task. Then, finally, they speak, their voice cold.
"I never loved you, Chance," they reply flatly. The words land sharply, knocking the wind from his chest. His head swims with disbelief as he keeps his hand pressed against his side, the blood seeping through his fingers. The confusion only grows in his mind, seeping into a sense of betrayal that lingers, unanswered and suffocating.
“No… no, we- what are you talking about? I- I thought we-” His voice cracks, a mix of pain and despair. But their gaze only hardens, leaving their expression almost unreadable.
"I was never interested in you," they sneer, their eyes narrowing. The words spill out like venom, each syllable calculated and cold. "I only cared about your inheritance. But now? Now, you’ve outlived your usefulness."
Chance shakes his head, his breath shallow and labored. "But… but everything we shared… the way we-" He falters, unable to find the words, his body trembling with a mix of shock and disbelief. "I thought you-"
"No." They interrupt, their voice final, without a trace of emotion left. "You mean nothing to me.”
Upon hearing those words, his knees buckle, and he collapses onto the cold, damp ground.
This was it- the moment the dam finally broke. The admission that everything they had ever shared was a lie, that it had all been a carefully constructed illusion.
His hands tremble as they clutch at his side, blood pouring through his fingers. His thoughts are scattered, scrambling desperately to try to piece together the truth. His breath comes in ragged gasps, strained as he fought to stay conscious. His world begins to blur. “Why... Why now? After everything we've been through...?”
They say nothing- they only take a slow, deliberate step back, a cruel smile tugged at their lips. They still gripped the blade tightly in their hand, the cold edge gleaming in the dim light.
“What a shame, Chance,” they muttered, the voice dripping with mockery. You still don’t understand, do you?” They tilted their head, studying him with an icy, almost amused gaze, as if they were savoring his suffering. “Even after everything, you’re still blind to the truth.”
“I hope you die.”
Chance’s heart breaks. He refuses to accept this- he simply can't.
His breath quickens, and his head spins, the darkness threatening to take over. "No… please, no…" The words escape him, weak and desperate. But his body defies his wish, and starts to go numb, his vision tunnelling as the pain begins to consume him.
iTrapped watches him for a long moment, their gaze unwavering, their face an impenetrable mask of indifference. There is no trace of emotion, no flicker of regret- just cold, calculated detachment. Then, without another word, they turn and begin to walk away, their footsteps slow and deliberate. The darkness of the alley seems to reach out, swallowing them whole as they disappear into the shadows, leaving nothing behind but the fading echoes of their departure.
Chance remains alone, crumpled on the cold concrete, with his heart broken, and his body bloodied. The only sound that remains is the faint, rhythmic drip of blood falling to the ground, and the heavy, suffocating silence that follows.
After that, everything becomes a blur.