RIP

[A/N: Trigger warning: Disturbing violence]

When the fight behind her quiets down to absolute silence, Emory whimpers. That has to be a bad sign. Parma has to be dead. Emory may not have known her for longer than an hour, but it's still devastating to know. Especially since that's going to happen to her next.

She's not ready to die yet, though. She wasn't ready when the demon slaughtered her coven, and she isn't now.

Emory pauses when the sound of scuffling comes from behind her. Her heart lurches and she runs, one hand kept on the wall to guide her way, the other stretched out to keep from tripping on nothing.

The scent in the air changes from stale and musty to putrid and it makes her nose burn, makes her eyes water. Her vision blurs, her head feels light, any complicated thoughts fleeing to the back of her mind.

No, she trips over her feet, her arms flailing to catch herself against the floor. She blinks, her fingers scratching at the stone beneath her, why can't she focus on anything? What is she running from again?

She pants, the feel of dirt and grit getting into her open and drooling mouth. Wait, she groans, why can't she get up?

Her body lurches when the ground shakes, and for a moment she has clarity. Right, she was running from the monster because she's in the dark room. Parma…

Emory whimpers when a large huff of hot bloody breath fans against her face. The puff of air is so strong her silver hair flutters behind her shoulder.

Oh God, is that the monster? Whatever is in the air, it must be affecting it too. Emory blinks, trying to see clearly, but it's useless in this darkness. There's not even a single ray of light to give her even a shadow of its figure.

Emory can smell it though. The smell of copper, of blood, the scent so strong and thick she thinks the beast took a bath in Parma's blood.

Emory gags, the taste of bile on the back of her throat as she loses consciousness.

***

Emory's nose twitches and she gets the sense of deja vu as it's very familiar. She smelled it not only 24 hours ago, but it has also now become a very unforgettable smell as it seems to stain her nose hair.

Disgusting.

"Vai'an," Emory starts, almost gagging when she breathes in the smell of rotting fish. "If you are in my face when I open my eyes, I will slap you."

"Slap?"

Emory swallows down the bile that rises, the back of her throat burning. He is most definitely in her face, she can feel his breath on her skin.

She curls her hand into a fist and punches him in the face. Her knuckles slide right off of his slick skin and she makes a sound of frustration when he blinks at her. He smiles and pulls away, standing up and sitting in the chair across from her.

"You'll need to learn a lot more than slapping, and punching, that was very weak - If you're going to stay alive long in Baymour, Hon." He smirks, needle sharp teeth flashing in the light overhead.

Emory's left eyebrow twitches.

"Though, seeing as how you made it out alive of the dark room and not Parma." He regards her with a serious look, a new assessing eye that he didn't use before, as if he can see something he didn't before. "Maybe you'll stay alive longer than I think."

Emory looks away to stare at the white wall behind him. Her nostrils flare, eyes filling with tears. Emory doesn't think she'll live the next time something like this happens.

Parma sacrificed herself to save Emory. Maybe not deliberately, maybe the fight between her and the beast has been a long time coming, Emory wouldn't know since she just got to Baymour, but Parma told her to run.

Emory sniffs and wipes her cheeks, her tears having spilled over.

Vai'an mumbles about the awkwardness but Emory ignores him. Parma. . .

"What happened to Parma?" Emory asks, her voice thick with emotion. Her fingers curl into the thin sheets that cover her. She remembers the smell of blood. How silent it got. How the monster that lives in the dark room started to chase after her before the gas knocked them both out.

"She died." Vai'an says softly, creepy, pupiless eyes directed at the tiled ground. "She was transformed into her sphinx form." he cuts the last word off of his tongue like a curse."The director finds it amusing."

Emory has no doubt he wants to say more, but for some reason can't get himself to. She clenches her jaw and glares at the floor. Everything about this place, Baymour Research Facility, it's all fishy. There are guards everywhere, she assumes more than is customary for a research facility. Goddess, there's one assigned to every patient. There's a monster of some type in a place they call the dark room. Which is where he sends his patients if they disobey.

It all screams red flags. They are everywhere! There's no way all of this is legal.

"She may have been a huge bitch, but no one should die the way she did." Vai'an sighs and then clicks his tongue against his needle-like teeth.

"Is there a reason why you're here? Again." Emory mutters as she wipes her leaking nose. Her limbs feel heavy, her heart heavy and her head throbbing. It feels like everything that has happened to her in the last forty-eight hours are finally taking its role on her. Her nose wrinkles and she steps out of her bed to stretch. Her muscles ache, and she's surprised when her back doesn't flare with pain, that her ribs don't feel like they're out of place. She remembers being tossed around like nothing, she swears she broke something but now she feels fine.

"Director Alrik gave you a healing potion." Vai'an says when he notices her furrowed brows. "Mm, also thanks for reminding me. He wants to see you. Like, yesterday." Vai'an shrugs and then grins.

Emory blinks at the sudden change of topic, what?

"And he hates waiting." His head rolls back on his neck and thumps against the wall as he shrugs, "I wonder if he'll be mad at you enough to put you into the dark room again?"

Her eyes widen and she jumps for the open door. Yeah no, let's not keep this bastard waiting. Her hands curl into fists. She feels hopeless. Parma fucking died down there. How can he use this as a punishment? That's just cruel. It's disturbing. She's not a person to him. She's just a worthless object who needed to learn that her life didn't matter.

She sniffs and blinks away her tears, barely glancing behind her when her guard for the day trails behind her shadow.

She won't let them or the director see her cry. Besides, all she's ever done is cry lately. She thinks of Walker. He was a free-spirit dragon, and now he's gone. But that doesn't mean the memory of him has too. What would he do in such a dire situation as this? He would definitely avoid the dark room at all costs, she thinks. She can do that.

The director's office is extravagant compared to the small room she is given. Firstly, it's not blinding with the white walls and bed sheets, like hers. There's actual color. The desk is a deep mahogany that takes up most of the room. His desk chair is dressed in leather, a soft blush color that contrasts with the navy blue of his walls.

Emory has half the mind to tell him he should hire an interior designer, when he gestures to the not-near-as-nice chair in front of his desk.

"Parma-" She begins, her throat closing, when he interrupts her.

"Would you like to see how she died?" Emory pauses, her eyes narrowing as Director Alrik grins. "It was very brutal, let me tell you," He pulls the top drawer of his desk open and pulls out a remote. He presses a button and the wall beside Emory slides open, revealing a wall of screen monitors. One of the large screens has already been preset, paused with an image of what looks to be a large cat with Parma's human head, and a black shadow.

"N-" Emory can't get the word out fast enough when Alrik presses play.

Parma is twisting her giant cat-like body around the shadow beast when it grabs the end of her tail, another limb snakes out and curls around her midsection to keep her still.

Emory gags when the monster rips Parma's spine out with her tail. The sound of bones snapping, the rush of red that sprays, the way Parma's head pops off at the end.

She can see it clearly, the way her spine links to her tail, the way her head hangs off the other end like a dead worm.

Emory lurches, her hand flying to her mouth.

"There's a trash can to your left." Alrik points out. Emory jumps up and vomits into it.

Parma didn't deserve to die like that, Emory cries, the back of her throat burning with acid.