Chapter 23 - Fox Mask

They ran as if their lives depends on it, because they did, if they didn't escape now, only God knows what will happen to them and the kids.

A door.

Locked.

"Step aside." Walter said as he pulled his shotgun and broke it. "Now run."

Then a shout came from behind, "they're here!"

"Shit, they found us." Emma said.

The man behind them started shooting.

Missed.

Missed.

Then it landed on Walter's arm.

Walter groaned in pain but didn't stop, he was getting his daughter and grandson out of here even if it cost him his life.

Walter grabbed his gun from his pocket, and shot back.

Bullseye, the man dropped dead. They continued running to the unknown.

"Mr. Holloway are you alright?" Kath was worried about him.

Emma cut a piece of her shirt and gave it to him, "here."

"We don't have time for this, I'm good just keep running." Holloway took the piece and stopped the blood with it as he kept running.

Cold walls. Blinding fluorescent lights. A maze of sterile, lifeless corridors stretched ahead, lined with doors that had no names, only numbers. The air was thick with sterility and secrecy, a place designed to be forgotten by the world above.

Emma tightened her grip on the pistol, her breaths controlled but shallow. The map in her other hand shook ever so slightly as she tried to trace their escape route. Holloway moved ahead, his movements sharp despite the pain in his injured arm. Kath followed, scanning every corner like a hawk.

They had minutes, maybe seconds, before the next wave of hell came crashing down.

"We need to find a way out." Kath's voice was sharp, clipped. "That blast must have drawn attention."

Emma nodded, eyes flicking between the map and the hallways. "We're underground. If we don't find an exit soon-"

Clack.

The sound of boots. Not one pair. Many.

A voice crackled over the speakers, calm, almost amused.

"They're still inside. Close the exits. Don't let them leave."

Then, gunfire.

A storm of bullets ripped through the hallway.

"Cover the kids!!" Kath shouted.

"Shit-!" Holloway grabbed Emma's arm, yanking her back behind a steel column as rounds slammed into the walls. Sparks burst as bullets ricocheted off metal panels, the deafening echo ringing in their ears.

Kath returned fire, her shots precise. One guard dropped. Then another.

"Wait!" A voice from behind the gunmen barked out. "Stop shooting! You'll hit the subject!"

The gunfire ceased. A tense silence. The air still buzzed with the sound of metal cooling from the heat of bullets.

Emma exchanged a glance with Holloway.

"Run," he mouthed.

They moved. Fast.

Boots slammed against the floor as they sprinted down the corridor, weaving through the maze of identical hallways. The map was useless now. They had no time.

Doors. Lined on both sides. Locked. Locked. Locked.

Then-

"This one's open!"

Emma shoved the door open. They slipped inside, the scent of antiseptic and something rotten filling their lungs. The room was lined with metal gurneys. Restraints. Dried blood.

She didn't want to think about what happened here.

"Shoot them!" The order rang from the hallway. "Even if the subjects die, no one can know about this facility!"

"But Capt-"

"I said shoot them n-!!"

Then, BOOM.

A single shot.

A sickening thud as the captain's body crumpled to the floor.

The guards turned, and froze.

A man stood at the end of the hall. Fox mask.

"Let them go," he said, his voice cold.

For a second, nobody moved. Then, slowly, they lowered their guns.

They didn't argue back.

Emma, Holloway, and Kath didn't wait to understand. They bolted. Kept running.

And then-

A staircase. They stumbled up, the air shifting. The walls changed from cold metal to concrete. Then glass. Then-

They were outside.

The city. Night air. Neon lights. The facility was underground.

"We're at the edge of the city..." Emma said.

Then she continued, "How big is this damn place..."

"Big enough to run a whole facility underground and maybe stretch all over the city." Kath said.

Walter looked at his grandson then the kids who were in awe, when was the last time they saw the light of the city and smelled fresh air, "we don't have time that let's take them somewhere safe for now."

Emma nodded then called the police station. "We need immediate back, NOW."

Not long after that the back up arrived at the scene, police officers, ambulances, firefighters and even the press, no one understood how they knew, but they had one thing in common.. they were all in a state of shock, but they had to be quick.

The police station was chaos. The moment they arrived, officers swarmed the area. The rescued children, some silent, others crying, were reunited with frantic, sobbing parents.

Holloway stood stiffly as his daughter approached, her face unreadable. She looked at the bandage on his arm. The exhaustion in his eyes.

Then, she hugged him.

Tightly.

"I thought they're gonna kill us," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," Holloway murmured. He looked past her, to the boy. His grandson.

The child blinked sleepily. "...Mom? Who's this?"

His daughter knelt beside him. "This is your grandfather."

Holloway's breath hitched.

He dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he cupped the boy's face. Then, he kissed his forehead.

---

The news exploded overnight. The kidnappings. The facility. The faces of missing children were broadcasted on every screen, every headline.

Breaking News: "A shocking discovery has rocked the nation as authorities uncover a massive underground facility involved in the abduction and trafficking of children. Survivors have been rescued, and families are reuniting, but many questions remain. Who was behind this operation? How did it go unnoticed for so long? And most importantly, how deep does this conspiracy go? Officials are calling it an act of war. Stay tuned as we bring you the latest updates."

In living rooms across the city, families watched, some clutching their children closer.

Then, a press conference.

A man stepped up to the podium. Tall. Stern. Powerful.

Same man from the last press conference.

The room went silent as he spoke.

"This is war."

His voice was cold, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a blade. The cameras flashed, the journalists leaned forward, hanging onto his next words. He let the silence stretch, the weight of his declaration sinking into the minds of everyone present. Then, he continued, his gaze sweeping over the sea of reporters.

"For too long, we have allowed the rot to spread beneath our feet. Hidden networks, untouchable figures, operating in the shadows as if the law does not apply to them. But let me make this clear, there will be no shadows left for them to hide in. Not anymore. We will find them. We will expose them. And we will burn them to the ground."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some journalists furiously scribbled notes, others whispered to their colleagues. The tension in the air was palpable.

"This is no longer a matter of crime," he continued, his voice unwavering. "This is an attack on our children, on our people, on everything we stand for. And make no mistake, whoever is responsible, wherever they hide, they will face justice. No matter how powerful they think they are, they will fall."

The moment he finished, chaos erupted. Journalists shot up from their seats, shouting over each other.

"Sir, do you have any leads?"

"Who was behind the facility?"

"Is the government complicit in this?"

"How deep does this go?"

But he didn't answer. He simply turned on his heel and walked off the stage, his footsteps steady, controlled. Security blocked the desperate reporters as he disappeared behind the curtains, leaving only the weight of his words behind.

The chaos of the press conference still lingered in the airwaves, looping through news channels as anchors dissected every word. But in the sterile quiet of the hospital, none of it mattered.

Emma stepped inside the dimly lit room, her boots barely making a sound against the floor. The scent of antiseptic stung her nose, mixing with the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor.

Alex lay still, his face paler than she remembered. Bandages wrapped around his head, his left arm in a sling. Wires and tubes connected him to the machines, keeping him stable, but unmoving.

Kath exhaled slowly and pulled up a chair beside him.

"Hey, dumbass," she said, forcing a smirk. "Guess I should be used to seeing you like this by now."

No response. Just the soft rise and fall of his chest.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together. "You should've seen it, Alex. We actually did it. The kids... they're safe. You'd be proud."

A lump tightened in her throat, but she swallowed it down.

She glanced at his face, hoping for some reaction, a twitch, a blink, anything.

Nothing.

She looked down at her hands. "You always had to be the hero, huh? Couldn't just let us handle it. Had to throw yourself into the fire." She scoffed, shaking her head. "Asshole."

The silence pressed against her.

Her fingers curled into fists. "You better wake up soon. We still have work to do."

Still nothing.

Emma let out a shaky breath and leaned back in the chair.

She didn't cry. She wouldn't.

The door creaked open behind her.

Kath.

She didn't say anything, just stepped inside and stood by the doorway, watching.

Emma sniffed and rubbed at her nose with the sleeve of her jacket before standing.

"Let's go," she murmured, voice quieter than before.

Kath studied her for a moment before nodding.

As Emma turned to leave, she hesitated.

One last glance at Alex.

Then, she reached down and squeezed his hand. Just for a second.

"You're not allowed to die, got it?"

And with that, she walked out.

Kath took one last look at Alex, then followed.

The door clicked shut.

The room was silent once more.

But if anyone had been paying attention, they might've noticed, for just a second, Alex's fingers twitched.

The next day in more sophisticated place, crowded by skyscrapers, A towering skyscraper stood above them all. Glass reflecting the city's glow.

The office was dimly lit. High above the city, beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the skyline stretched in an endless sea of neon and steel.

A fox mask sat on the polished desk. Unmoved. Watching.

A lone figure stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing down at the streets below.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A pause. Then-

"Come in."

Footsteps. Controlled. Measured.

Cain stepped inside, his expression unreadable. The soft glow of city lights barely touched him, as if the darkness clung to him more naturally than the light ever could.

He said nothing at first. Just watched.

Then, finally, his voice quiet, but heavy. Too calm.

"Why?"

The man didn't turn.

"Why what?"

Cain took another step forward. He didn't sound angry. Didn't even sound curious. Just... cold.

"You showed them the facility. You let them escape."

A beat of silence.

Then, a quiet chuckle.

"And?"

Cain's expression didn't change.

The man finally turned, a slow, deliberate movement. His smirk was subtle, but his eyes, his eyes were something else entirely.

Cain didn't blink.

"You think this is a game."

The man's smirk widened, just a fraction.

"No. I think you misunderstand something." He leaned back against the desk, fingers resting near the fox mask. "You're asking the wrong question."

Cain tilted his head, just slightly. The smallest movement. The air around him felt heavier.

"Then what's the right one?"

The man's smirk didn't fade.

"Why did I let them escape?" he echoed, rolling the words slowly, as if amused. Then, he exhaled, shaking his head. "Cain, Cain, Cain..."

Cain didn't react. Didn't move.

Just stared.

The smirk faltered.

Not much. Just a fraction.

A crack in the mask.

Then, the man straightened, smoothing his sleeves. The smirk was back.

"You'll soon find out."

Cain was silent. Still. Completely, eerily still.

Then, he turned toward the door.

The man watched him leave, but just as Cain reached for the handle-

"My dear son."

Cain stopped.

A pause.

Then, without looking back, without a single sign of hesitation, he opened the door and walked out.

The air in the office felt colder.

The door clicked shut behind him.

The man exhaled slowly. His fingers tapped against the desk. Just once. Just enough to break the silence.

And for the first time that night, the man let out a breath.

****

In a quiet neighborhood, Holloway sat on the floor of the living room, surrounded by the soft hum of a home finally filled with life again. His grandson giggled as he stacked wooden blocks, his small hands carefully balancing each piece. The boy's eyes sparkled with a kind of joy that only children untouched by cruelty could have.

Holloway just watched. Just existed in this moment.

From the kitchen, his daughter hummed softly while preparing tea, the scent of chamomile filling the air. It was the kind of normalcy he hadn't dared to dream of for years.

A car pulled up outside.

The engine cut, and two familiar figures stepped out. Emma and Kath. Their hands stuffed into their pockets, their postures loose but tired.

Holloway glanced up as they stepped onto the porch.

Kath smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "We did it."

Emma exhaled, looking around. "Feels weird, huh? A quiet ending."

Holloway chuckled. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

A comfortable silence settled between them.

For now, just for now, the battle was over.