Requiem: Tale Of The Lone Regressor.

Once again, the black device lit up, vibrating against the bed. Evie slid her finger across the screen and rejected the call with a sigh, burying her face in her hands. A sudden scratching at the window made her jump.

"Jarad?" she mumbled, shuffling cautiously toward the noise. A quick scan revealed it was only the branches swaying in the wind. She exhaled, her tension easing, and returned to her bed.

Moments later, a soft ding from her phone lit up the screen. Evie scrambled to unlock it, her hope short-lived when the message turned out to be from her parents. Another text added to the 87 unread ones that already sat there.

Another ding.

Eighty-nine.

Her hand hovered over the phone as she bit her lip. Guilt gnawed at her, knowing her parents were sick with worry. She hadn't forgotten the night she ran away—the hurried packing of her essentials into a duffel bag, the last glance at their peaceful, sleeping faces. The lamp she'd accidentally knocked over woke them, forcing her to flee into the night as their desperate cries followed her.

It hurt, but it had been necessary.

Her brother always prepared for the worst, and she'd relied on the safe addresses he'd given her to lay low. Now, here she was—alone but safe. She could only hope the same was true for her parents. Staying with them had been too dangerous.

They didn't know what she and Jarad were caught up in, and she intended to keep it that way. Ignorance was bliss.

A faint knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She grabbed her knife, moving cautiously toward the sound. The knocking grew louder with each step, and soon, the knob jiggled.

"Jarad?" she called out hesitantly.

The knocking stopped momentarily, only to resume with a violent intensity that sent her retreating into her room. Her breath hitched as fear took hold, and she leaned against the door, gripping the knife tightly.

The sound of the main door being smashed down made her blood run cold. Panic setting in, she hastily dialed Jarad's number.

He picked up almost immediately. "Evie, what's going on?"

"I think I'm being hunted," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the bedroom door, which shuddered under the force of another kick.

"Where are you right now?"

"Hideout 4. In the bedroom."

"Okay," he said, his voice steady. "Shift the dresser to the left. There's a hidden hatch. It leads to an underground bunker."

Evie moved quickly, shoving the heavy furniture aside to reveal a small knob embedded in the floor. Just as she pulled it, the bedroom door burst open. She didn't waste a second, scrambling into the hatch without looking back, leaving it open in her desperate haste to escape.

Evie landed awkwardly on the cold, damp floor below, her knees buckling from the impact. The hatch above remained open, casting faint light into the pitch-black tunnel. Her breaths came in shallow, panicked gasps as she tried to regain her footing.

A creak from above made her freeze. Her heart sank when a shadow moved across the hatch opening. He's following me.

Her fingers fumbled for the phone in her pocket as she stumbled deeper into the tunnel. "Jarad," she whispered into the receiver.

"I'm almost there," his voice came through, steady but edged with urgency. "How far are you into the bunker?"

"Not far," she admitted, her voice trembling. "But I think—"

A thud from behind cut her off, followed by the distinct scrape of boots against the metal ladder. The assassin had entered the tunnel.

"Evie, listen to me," Jarad said sharply. "Keep moving. You need to stay ahead of him. There should be another exit at the end of the tunnel."

Her grip tightened on the knife as she darted forward, her footsteps echoing in the narrow passage. The tunnel seemed endless, her only guide the faint glimmer of light far ahead.

Behind her, the assassin's steady steps quickened.

"You can't run forever, little mouse," his voice echoed in the dark, calm and taunting.

Her pulse spiked, and she glanced over her shoulder. The faint glow of his mask came into view, his silhouette looming closer. He wasn't running—he didn't have to.

"Jarad!" she whispered harshly into the phone.

"I'm almost there," Jarad growled. "Don't stop, Evie. You will make it. Keep going!"

The light at the end of the tunnel grew brighter, but so did the assassin's presence. His steps became faster, more determined. Evie tightened her grip on the knife, her hands trembling.

She turned sharply, slashing wildly. The blade cut through empty air as the assassin dodged effortlessly. His counter came swiftly, a precise kick to her chest that sent her sprawling onto the ground.

Pain shot through her body as she gasped for breath, her knife clattering out of reach. He stood over her, his blade gleaming faintly in the dim light.

"Stay down," he said, his voice smooth, almost mocking.

No. She wouldn't give up. She kicked out, her foot connecting with his shin. It wasn't much, but it was enough. He stumbled, and Evie scrambled to her feet, bolting for the light.

"Jarad, he's—he's right behind me!" she cried into the phone.

"Evie, listen," Jarad's voice came through, urgent but calm. "There's a fork ahead. Take the right tunnel—it'll lead to an exit."

Her legs burned as she reached the fork, her mind racing. The assassin's footsteps grew louder, his presence suffocating. She didn't hesitate. She veered right, her heart pounding as she pushed herself forward.

The tunnel narrowed, and her vision blurred with tears. She could still hear him behind her, closer than ever.

"Keep going," Jarad said firmly, his voice anchoring her. "I'm almost there. Just keep going."

The exit loomed ahead, a faint shimmer of hope. But so did the assassin, his relentless pursuit making every second stretch into eternity.

She just had to make it a little further.

Evie could see the exit now, just a few meters away. Relief surged through her, but it was fleeting.

A sudden, violent force slammed into her from behind, sending her crashing to the ground. Her chest heaved, breath knocked out of her as pain shot through her limbs.

Before she could recover, the assassin's boot pressed into her back, pinning her to the cold, unforgiving floor.

"Almost there," he murmured, his voice dripping with cruel amusement.

She kicked and struggled, desperate to break free, but his weight was unyielding. With one swift motion, he snatched her phone from her grasp, his fingers dancing over the screen with ease.

"Let's see how much your brother cares," he muttered, thumbing through the contacts.

Evie's body ached, her vision swam with exhaustion and pain, but she didn't stop trying to fight. She opened her mouth to scream, to warn Jarad, but the assassin's fist came down on her temple with brutal force.

The world went dark.

---

Jarad's phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with Evie's name. A wave of relief washed over him. He immediately answered.

"Evie? Where are you? Are you safe?"

The voice that answered wasn't hers.

"Jarad," the assassin's voice came through smooth and mocking. "I've got something of yours."

Jarad's pulse quickened. "Who is this?" he demanded, his tone cold, dangerous.

"No one you'll ever get the chance to forget," the assassin replied, his words laced with amusement. "Your sister? She's still breathing—for now."

"If you hurt her, I'll—"

"Kill me?" the assassin interrupted, his laughter dark and menacing. "You'll have to come and try. I'll send you the location. But don't take too long—I don't know how patient I'll be."

The line went dead before Jarad could respond.

His hand tightened around the phone, and his eyes burned with fury.

"Evie," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with venom. "Hold on. I'm coming."