Gray Stewart’s complexion turned pale as her eyes met Fakey McBaldy. Likewise, he was also just as surprised when he saw her. “T-there’s someone here!” he shouted, pointing his trembling hand to her. While he was still under confusion, Gray pulled out her stuck foot so hard, her shoe fell off. With one less shoe, she squeezed her body out of the set of tanks and sprinted on the side aisle. She had only one way to go; the door. As she sprinted without looking back, she could hear clamoring and the breaking of bottles, as well as vehement footsteps. “Catch her! Shoot! Faster!” were the words she could pick up in the middle of escaping. Almost reaching the knob of the door, she heard a gunshot promptly followed by a hole on

“Are you lost, darling?” Even though Gray Stewart could not see the face of the person behind her due to the utter darkness embracing the room, she was certain as to whom the voice belonged to. It was Undertaker’s. Winter was still a few weeks away, but her body was already frozen. There was adequate air for her to breathe in, but she felt suffocated. It was dark, but she could clearly see death waving its hand toward her. It took a few seconds for her horrified bones to finally move. However, as she attempted to move, he had already gripped on her wrist. “Fuck,” she thought to herself as she looked behind her, to her wrist who had been caught by a shark’s mouth. His long nails were slowly drilling deep into her skin. Her face contorted as she silently whimpered.

Failing her one chance at an escape due to Undertaker’s keen eyes, Gray Stewart was once again surrounded by the four. And unlike the previously unfair 4 to 1 fight, she was now armed. She pulled the knife that Undertaker planted on the wall and used it to defend herself. With her desperate actions to evade their attacks, they were now standing on the center aisle. On the other hand, Undertaker had brought one chair to the door and sat quietly, spectating the fight. When Gray took a quick glance at the door, Fakey and Ursula simultaneously thrusted their knives toward her stomach by which she dodged by impulsively slouching her back and changing the direction of their knives using the one she was using. It looked as if she was trying to shoo a roach away with her knife. Obviously, she was inexperienced when it came to using weapons. She may have won countless brawls when she was younger, but never had she

After Gray Stewart made a declaration, she looked down on Fakey and Tentacle’s immobilized body. She took the two knives beside them then she slowly walked to the center aisle, right across the door where Undertaker stood. “Sir!” she called out to him. “How about a tasty one-on-one match?” She held one finger up over her face. “How about it?” She halted at the center of the aisle, right across Undertaker on the other side of the room. She stood at attention like a soldier and clasped both hands behind her with the knives. She was aiming to look as docile as possible. “Would you heed my request?” she slightly tilted her head. “Sir?” Truth be told, her legs were trembling underneath her pants. Death was practically right in front of her. She had two knives, but what fight could she put up against someone with a gun? She was just death waiting to happen. However

Before Gray Stewart could process her thoughts, she felt a warm, nearly hot, feeling on her stomach. When she looked down, a color of red slowly painted her white t-shirt. She looked bemused at Undertaker. He clearly had no gun in his hands. With the very little strength she had left, she turned around behind her with quivering eyes. “J-jude?” Only five feet away from her stood Jude by the door with a gun staring at her. And beside him was Colleen swiveling her eyes between Gray and the gun. “I’m sorry, man,” uttered Jude with his trembling hands gripping on the gun. “I gotta protect my family too.” Gray only gasped in response as her stomach spasmed in pain. She had a lot to say---to ask, but she could barely breathe, much more open her mouth to talk. She wanted to