Run, fight to the last drop of my blood... no surrender!

{if Fighter = 1}I don’t move right away. Not because I’m frozen, but because my brain’s trying to catch up to the fact that Ariadne is standing in my fucking apartment. Somehow, she found me and now she’s here, inside. And if I don't act, I'm as good as dead. Probably.

"Hi, Thalia. Did you miss me?" Her smile is all teeth and slow confidence, and my skin is already buzzing like it knows something my brain doesn’t want to admit. The smart thing to do could be just to freeze, submit and hope she’s in a good mood.

Yeah, well. I’m not feeling particularly smart tonight.

I take one slow step back, like I’m retreating, like I’m terrified—well, okay, I am terrified—but I let her see it. I keep my eyes on hers while my brain’s working overtime, searching for something that could help me. I see the front door in reach, but I know I can't outpace her. Way too risky. And then—I remember the candlestick.

That stupid, goth-as-hell, black iron candlestick I bought at a flea market years ago because it “looked like something from a castle dungeon.” It’s been collecting dust on the shelf by the bathroom door ever since. Heavy as sin and right beside me. Perfect.

I pretend I’m angling for the front door. My breath’s coming too fast, my bare feet sticking slightly to the hardwood. Ariadne tilts her head like a cat watching a mouse forget it’s in a corner.

“Oh, you can try and run,” she says, voice soft enough to make the hair on my arms stand up, “but you won’t make it far.”

Sure, bitch. I’m counting on you thinking that.

My pulse is screaming now, my stomach’s in my throat, and if I stop to think about how bad this can go, I’ll ****.

So I don’t think and rely on my instinct.

I lounge for the door but grab the candlestick on the way there. I sense movement and before I reach the door, I spin and swing like my life depends on it—because, yeah, it kinda does.

The hit connects with a dull thump that shoots up my arm. For one glorious second, Ariadne’s eyes flash wide with pure surprise as the heavy metal stick cracks her skull. The momentum takes her forward and she tumbles down into the wall and folds sideways unnaturally, like she's... dead?

Oh no, I'm not making that cliche mistake by checking if she’s truly gone, or just out. And when I see her hand twitching, I bolt. My muscles are shaking, my breath tearing out of me in panicked gasps as I fly down the stairwell. I realize I'm still completely naked but that's such a trivial concern right now.

Three floors left. What an idiot I was for not listening to Lucius. He was right after all.

Two. What if I did kill her? A massive hit to the head kills zombies, so it could kill a vampire too, right?

One. Just run you idiot and stop thinking nonsense.

Halfway to the lobby, I think I hear it—a faint shift of air above me, like something moving way too fast. And then an inhuman screech. Fuck. My legs burn, my heart’s pounding loud enough to drown out thought, and the only thing in my head is out, out, out.

I hit the street barefoot, the cold concrete biting at my feet, and I’m already scanning for someone, anyone—

There. A man in a long coat under the streetlamp, looking at some... device in his hands.

I don’t even care if he’s a creep; I sprint toward him, waving my arms like a lunatic. “Help! Please! A woman—she's crazy, a vampire, she's trying to kill me!”

His head snaps toward me, and when he hears vampire, his whole stance changes. Strangely, he’s not confused, he’s ready, like he’s been waiting for exactly this kind of crazy.

{if Helped_Ethan = 1}I close the distance and that's when I recognise him—it's the same man that warned me that night to stay inside at night, that there are some forces at work. The British guy. Ethan.{endif}

The door behind me bangs open, and Ariadne steps into the glow, looking… annoyed. She's bleeding from her forehead, but she doesn't look broken—just seriously annoyed.

"Step away, she's mine!" She hisses with pure venom in her voice, as I cover behind the man.

His hand slips inside his coat, and what he pulls out is not a gun. It’s a sleek, dark crossbow, like the one in that game about medieval assassins.

“We finally meet, Ariadne,” he says, almost like he’s confirming it to himself.

Ariadne’s lips curve. “Get lost or die, Ethan!”

For a moment there I fear that he might budge, but then everything happens so fast I barely register it—him firing, her twisting. The bolt buries itself deep in her chest, and she staggers, a hiss curling out of her throat. The wound smokes faintly in the cold air, but she’s not done.

“This... isn’t over,” she says, and then she retreats to the shadows and we can't see her anymore.

Ethan grabs my arm—not rough, but firm. “We need to move. Now.”

I don’t argue. The adrenaline’s still flooding my veins, and my legs just keep going, carrying me toward his car, away from danger, away from her.

{endif}
{if Fighter = 0}The second I see her by the balcony, my body makes the choice for me—I bolt. No plan, no weapon, no clever trick. Just pure, blind instinct telling me to run.

I sprint for the door, fingers outstretched, reaching for the knob like it’s the only lifeline left in the world. I never even touch it.

Something slams into me—cold, hard, fast as lightning. I hit the floor with a thud that rattles my teeth, air punched out of my lungs. Before I can even scream, she’s on me. Ariadne pins me like it’s nothing, one hand pressing me down, her weight unbearable, her smile infuriatingly calm.

I thrash, kick, claw at her arm, at her chest—anything I can reach. I fight with everything I’ve got, muscles burning, nails scraping skin, but it’s like wrestling a statue. She doesn’t even break a sweat.

“Shhh,” she coos, tilting her head as if she’s admiring me. “So fierce… for someone who doesn’t stand a chance.”

Her voice drips with amusement, like she’s genuinely entertained by my pathetic little show.

“Fuck you,” I spit, wrenching my body with a sudden burst. She loosens her grip just a hair, maybe to play with me, maybe because she thinks I’m already broken. Big mistake.

I snap my knee up and kick her square in the face with everything I have left. Bone connects, and for one glorious second, I feel it. I actually stunned her.

She reels back, eyes flashing with shock, and then—oh God—her expression hardens. The playfulness is gone. No more teasing and games.

Her voice drops, low and cold. “I had something different in mind for you tonight, silly girl, but you're no fun. So be it.”

Her fangs flash, and then they’re buried in my neck.

The pain is instant and white-hot, like being ripped open from the inside. It’s not the blissful haze she gave me before. There’s no sweetness, no heat. Just agony. My body seizes, then crumbles into a heavy, useless thing under her.

She drinks deep. Too deep. My arms twitch uselessly, legs kicking once, then slowing, then stopping. The world tilts, darkens, and I can’t even scream anymore.

My thoughts scatter, but one cruel truth cuts through the haze: I fucked up. I didn’t listen to Lucius and went to the stupid event. And now I thought I could outrun something that's not even human. Idiot.

The last thing I feel is my heart fighting, pounding frantically against the void swallowing me, and the last thing I see is Ariadne’s face—lips red, eyes cold, watching me die like it means less than nothing.

Then everything slips away.

I close my eyes.

And never open them again.

THE END

{endif}