crazy ex

Murmurs filled the tense air, circling Ella like vultures as she stood in her rigid salute.

"Wow. I don't know if she's smart or dumb."

"But you gotta admit, that was cool."

"Tsk, she's faking. She probably won't last a day in Zone 19."

"Yeah, she'll be begging the soldiers soon."

"Let's not get close to her—her actions might implicate us."

"Her and that girl who got shot… what's her name?"

"Wendy. Hardly ever attended class. Bianca's lackey."

The weight of their words pressed down on Ella, but she didn't flinch. Her posture remained locked—back straight, arm raised in salute, face unreadable. Poker-faced and composed, she held her stance, waiting.

Inside, though, her patience thinned.

Sir, soldier—could you at least acknowledge me? My arm hurts.

She wouldn't dare say it aloud, nor would anyone imagine those words coming from her. So she remained silent, unyielding.

It wasn't until another soldier spoke that their leader snapped out of his daze.

"Team leader, we need to get going."

The squad leader blinked, refocusing. He had been too stunned to process what he was seeing.

This little girl wants to go to AZA 19?

Was she insane? Did she have a death wish? Did she even know what that place was?

Heh. It's none of my business. If she wants to die, I'll grant her wish. Make an example out of her.

"You want to go to AZA 19?" His sneer was sharp, laced with cruel amusement. "Fine. You'll get what you want! I'll personally make sure you sleep in Zone 19 tonight."

Yes, you'll fucking regret it.

Without another glance at Ella, he turned to the other students. "Everyone, choose a car and divide yourselves. We have a long journey ahead of us." His voice was clipped, commanding, final.

Ella remained frozen in her salute until another soldier approached her and murmured, "Release."

She exhaled, dropping her arm. The blood rushed back into her tingling fingers, her back aching from maintaining the rigid stance.

"Thank you," she mumbled, flexing her stiff arm as the soldier nodded and moved away.

Her attention immediately flickered to Wendy, still on the ground.

"Can you walk? Let's get you to a car," Ella said, the words feeling foreign, out of place.

Medical school had drilled one thing into her: Commit.

Commit to your diagnosis.

Commit to your actions.

Commit.

"Uh, yeah… I can walk. Just a little shocked, thank you."

Wendy tried to push herself up, but her body betrayed her—legs shaking, balance faltering. The world spun, and she collapsed.

Embarrassed, she lifted a trembling hand. "Please… help me stand up."

Ella crouched beside her and took her hand, steadying her.

"Let's count with every step to help you coordinate your movement," she instructed.

Together, they moved. Slow, deliberate steps. One foot, then another. The waiting cars felt like an eternity away.

Most of their peers had already settled in, watching from their seats. Some stared in curiosity. Others, sick with anxiety, barely noticed.

But as they reached the first vehicle, rejection hit them like a slap.

"No. Not in here."

"Go somewhere else."

"We don't want to be a target like you."

"Yeah, our futures might be ruined, but that doesn't mean we don't want to live longer."

"We gotta fight for this dog life too."

Car after car—refusal after refusal.

Until they reached the last one.

Their nightmare was waiting inside.

Bianca.

And Derek.

The moment Derek saw Ella, he stood up.

Unfinished business.

Ella U-turned so fast it could've broken the sound barrier.

Not him. Not now. Not ever.

Their golden couple title had long since tarnished into dust, and she had no interest in rekindling anything.

But Derek refused to let her slip away.

"Ella, wait."

She didn't.

"Ella! Stop right this moment," he commanded.

She didn't.

Then he laughed.

A sharp, grating, hysterical sound.

"Damn it, Ella. You used to be so obedient. What the hell happened to you? What—are you rebelling now?"

The world fell silent.

Ella stopped.

She turned just enough to look at him over her shoulder.

"Derek," she said, voice dry, unimpressed. "Don't embarrass yourself more than you already have."

Obedient? That's what he thought her silence had been?

God, narcissism should've died with the rest of the world.

His expression twisted. "I would have married you! You—you would have been less burdened!"

Ella stiffened.

Is he manic? Is he going crazy?

She frowned. "I don't have Haloperidol, Derek, but you need it."

But Derek wasn't listening.

His breathing turned erratic, chest heaving. Sweat beaded down his face.

His fingers twitched.

"N-Now… if you apologize," his voice trembled, desperate, "you can still be my wife."

His hands shook. His neck jerked—angles sharp, unnatural.

And then—

In a split second, faster than a blink, Derek was there.

Face twisted in something unhinged.

Eyes bloodshot, pupils dilated, veins bulging like thick white cords.

Black, clawed fingernails extended from his hands.

The air around him crackled—something wrong in the very fabric of his presence.

"You. Are. Mine."

His voice wasn't alone.

It echoed. Repeated. Reverberated like a chorus of shrill, inhuman voices layered over his own.

He lunged.

Wendy was shoved aside like dead weight, landing hard with a yelp.

His claws dug into Ella's arm—ruthless, possessive.

Ella's breath hitched. Her body froze.

Her heartbeat roared in her ears.

What the hell is happening to him?

'Where were the soldiers?'

'Why wasn't anyone helping? '

" Let go!" Ella tried again, screaming at the top of her lungs. But Derek didn't budge.

He even started growling. " what on earth?" Ella muttered.

' he must really be crazy'

She tried to pull herself away but it didn't work.

She yanked, twisted, fought—but his grip was ironclad.

She tried reasoning, but when she saw his eyes—glazed, empty, lost—she knew Derek was no longer there.

Panic surged. Her gaze darted around, frantic. Something. Anything.

Then she saw it—the backpack, toppled over on the ground.

"Medical supplies," she stammered.

Acting on instinct, she suddenly ducked, wrenching her body downward, twisting—wiggling free. It worked.

Without hesitation, she bolted.

But Derek was right on her heels.

She couldn't shake him. Every turn, every desperate sprint, he was there—closer, faster. Then—

A lurch.

A violent pull.

And in the next heartbeat, Ella was slammed onto the ground.

His weight crushed her.

His eyes had rolled back completely, leaving only eerie whites.

Saliva dripped—no, poured—from his mouth, a sickening, foaming river.

Ella's breath hitched. Reality crashed down in a terrifying wave.

"I need that Haloperidol. Now!"

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