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She didn’t close the door behind her, but she didn’t have to. Hale’s torso twisted to look back over her shoulder as the door slammed, though she couldn’t make out anything in the pitch black. Well, that didn’t matter. Going backwards was never option. One couldn’t grow if they went back. One had to keep moving forward. So she turned back to what she assumed was the way forward. She couldn’t tell, but she took a step regardless, and it wasn’t tentative. The thudding was almost a soothing sound in its repetition…she liked it, though the hushed sound of what sounded like an incomplete greeting threw off the tempo of the thudding.

It sounded familiar…though once again, she didn’t dwell on the why it felt familiar.

Hale stumbled her way forward, the feel of warm metal of the scissors in her hand another reassurance, something steady and consistent as she made her way forward. As she ran into something, she let out a curse, and shifted the scissors to the hand that also held the bag. Hale reached out, running her fingers along a wood texture, and realized she had ran into a crate, and her fingers paused as her gaze settled on an arm. She was filled with a curiosity now, as it became apparent she couldn’t move around this crate…so what was in it? The arm as moving back and forth, and Hale immediately grabbed it by the wrist with her one free hand, and the sounds stopped.

Ah…

Even more curious, her fingers slid down the arm, since she could hardly see a thing, and something felt…wedged. The texture was rather unusual as well, soft, firm…and it felt resistant? Hale’s brows furrowed, and she stilled as another rhythmic sound filled the silence.

Ah.

A heart.

Hale didn’t hesitate.

She could feel her lips pulling into a grin as she shifted the scissors to her free left hand, and it was with much eagerness did she plunge the scissors into the resistant mass. She pulled the scissors up, and plunged them back down. Over and over, because this in itself was a battle to get the heart, and she so did love to battle. She couldn’t help but feel like this mass was quietly letting her tear away at it—At some point she stopped using the scissors, because her hands were always reliable tools—and she dug through the hole she had made. It was in a determined fervor that she tore away at whatever she needed to get to the heart. The sound, the feeling, the texture, the warmth, it didn’t matter. She needed and wanted what lay underneath it all.

The chilling and terrifying scream that rose after the descent of the scissors and her hand wiped the grin from her face, and shook her: Hel. It shattered that determined fervor she had been in, and an arm clawed at her own.

After the determination shattered, she could feel a new eagerness. She was new to the school, and she wanted to get to know everyone. After she had settled in her room, she had made it a point to seek out an acquaintance she had made on her short visit before her enrollment. She assured herself that they were going to be very good friends, and it was with excitement she had knocked on his door, only to be greeted by the friend in question in nothing but a towel. That wasn’t the highlight of her memory though. It was all the laughing she did with this person, because she liked to laugh, and experience new things, and to share this with another.

It was having sushi for the first time, and laughing about stupid pop idols, and being taught how to use chop sticks before she turned them around on the teacher.

Her friend, who she shared such a wonderful memory with, had a mop of brown hair and eyes the same color as the hallway she was currently in. Pitch black. His name was Mac.

She had the heart in her hand, and had it pressed against her heaving chest as she stared at the contents of the crate with wide eyes.

She wanted this heart. She wanted it for a long time, and now it was hers. She had moved forward for this heart. It was hers. She put the heart into the bag, and secured it closed. This bag was a gift to her from the goddess, and the heart she sought was now in it. She cradled the bag to her chest in an action that could be described as lovingly with one hand, and held her bloody instrument in another. She stared at the crate with a small smile.

She rarely experienced panic, but it seized her now. She couldn’t end here. No. The goddess had sent her on a task, and she needed to grow stronger. He couldn’t have his heart back. It was hers, and it was needed, and she’d come back for him one day soon. She always did, and always would. She couldn’t tell him this though, and in her panic, she raised her scissors and plunged them, once again, into an opening—

The shrieked coincided with the sound of the wretched dark substance being coughed up, and it was relief that now flood Hale’s senses as opposed to the water. Light. A door. An exit. She wasted no time in heading towards it, spinning on her heel. As she spun towards the door, something she caught in the corner of her eye made her heart seize up. No…surely she was just imagining that, right? Yes, surely. She made it up. There was no way she could handle that baleful look coming from him, like she had betrayed him with those scissors she used, held firmly in his hand.

“COME ON!” Hale cried frantically, banging her fist on the locked door. She had booked it, her head was pounding and her heart was beating furiously, and she was stopped by this door that needed a pass code. If she had been in her right mind, she had a feeling she wouldn’t have ran. Running was never an option…so why now?

Why now indeed.

The ominous feeling, the pressure…it was triggering this flight response in her.

Hale's eyes darted around the door frantically, and she caught sight of a paper to her left, but she had no idea what it meant. "COME ON!" She howled, jiggling the door knob in vain, and not daring to look back.

She couldn't get it. "UGH!" Hale banged her fists on the door again. "COME ON!" She then tried pushing on the door. From down the hall, she could hear an echoing voice. Taunts bounced down the hall. She could tell by the tone, but she had no idea what it was talking about.

Who had been needy, and a lesser person?

It wasn't working. Hale tried looking around, her eyes darting frantically around once more before her vision blurred.

The atmosphere was loud and cheerful. There was a battle going on, and there were festivities around it. It wasn't a battle of weapons though...it was a battle of music. It was her first Battle of the Bands, and she didn't feel that excitement everyone else was. No, she felt like s**t, actually. How could he act like there was nothing wrong?

She had stomped off after her team had been defeated, and she had thought about holing herself up in her room until a game of Skree Ball momentarily distracted her. Fine. She'd play by herself, and she had started to, until someone muscled their way in and played with her.

Someone who checked in on her, and wanted to make sure she was okay. She got sushi with this person...

Hale snapped to, and her brows furrowed as the voice garbled down the hall once more, distorted, but someone familiar.

Hale's eyes darted to the right. There. Red on the paper. A line of letters. It clicked. With a gasp, she looked back to her left, and made out the code. Hale punched in the code, and flung the door open with a cry.

She fled out of the hallway, and kept running.

Her chest burned as she reached the final dead end.

Hale’s pace slowed before she same to a stop in the middle of the cul-de-sac, and her chest heaved from the exertion of running and just the fear that follower had put into her. She stared at the rickety house with the strange shadows, but before she moved any closer to it, she looked back.

Her heart sank, and the rush of flight started to over come her again, but she had no where to go. No where now to run from the follower who was still there. But…how!? The bridge! There was no where to run, and it was then Hale snapped out of it. Good. She didn’t need to keep running. She shouldn’t have in the first place. She should have faced this entity head on, from the start. She spun on her heel to face the follower, and squared her shoulders. She held onto the dagger from thee Goddess of Ruin tightly, and she missed the way the weapon began to glow. The follower was close. Much closer than it had been before.

It lunged at her with the scissors, and she rose to meet it. She lunged back with the dagger raised and let out a cry. The dagger glowed brighter, and for a moment, the red glow seemed to envelope her vision.

Ah…will…you still be my friend?

Of course, Hel...you don't have to ask that Ahh...at the risk of making this worse...I like you…a lot. But I just don't love you.

Ah…ya…I know.

Sadness. An effort to raise spirits. A mistake. A lot of uncertainty and hurt, but she still had a best friend. Even if hearing those stinging, but truthful words hurt, she still had a brutally honest best friend who did care about her. She wondered if she’d hear those words like that again some day though, because things were different now then they were back then, on that couch.

Now.

The red glow disappeared in a blink, as the dagger was plunged into the follower’s chest.

Hale watched as the entity that chased her with so much fervor dissipated, and on the ground, lie the glowing dagger, now free of rust. She knelt to pick it up, and as soon as she did, the door to the dead end opened. Hale’s head whipped around to look, and she stood. She made a few steps towards the door, but stilled. She looked back over her shoulder, clutching the glowing dagger to her chest, at where the follower had fallen.

What was that? Who was that? Why did it seem familiar…but like she was peeking in on the existence of another?

Hale bit her lip, and lightly shook her head, before she heaved a sigh, and picked back up into a run again, this time through the door to that allowed her escape from this place.