“I’m sorry about that,” Arthur said as they stepped back into the larger room.

“No, I shouldn’t have lost my cool,” Judith said, the stomping of her boots giving away her soured mood. “I think that neither of us are impartial enough to deal with this.”

“Judith.”
“Yes?”
“He wasn’t lying. When he said he’d get out of the room.” “What?”
“He meant it.”

“I don’t know,” Judith leaned against the opening to the hall. “ Just because someone believes they can do something doesn’t mean that they’re capable of actually doing it. Maybe he just really wants to leave the room, and you’re interpreting it as his version of the truth.”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Arthur insisted.

A loud whistle interrupted the pair and reminded them that they weren’t alone. The Old Man grinned. “Well, looks like things didn’t go according to plan, huh?”

“We’re calling our higher ups to deal with whatever mess you’ve made,” Judith said bitterly. “You’re not our problem anymore.”

“I guess not,” he said, “But he still is.”

Before either could ask him to elaborate, a loud pound shot through the room, a sound like someone had taken a hammer to a sheet of metal. The sound came again, then again, and repeated and repeated like the banging of some hellish drum.

“What the hell is that?!” Judith shouted through covered ears. Arthur did the same as he ran to the source of the banging; the door to John’s room, trembling with the force of the sound.

Arthur’s blood ran cold. “It’s him.”

Judith trailed behind him. “But that’s impossible. He can’t get out of that cell. How the hell can he reach the door?!”

“I don’t know, but he’s done it somehow. I guess you were right when you said that he wasn’t normal. It just sucks that we’re learning it the hard way.”

Through the metal door, a piercing voice called. It was loud and almost painful to listen to, and Arthur could barely recognize the voice as John’s at all, and wondered how he could ever confuse it with whatever this was. “It’s too late for regrets. One way or another, I will get out of this room. So, you should make it easier for all of us and open the door.”

“Um, there’s no way in hell we’re doing that.” Judith pulled out her phone and began dialing.

Arthur grimaced, staring at the door as if he could see through it and look at John if he tried hard enough. “So, all this time, were you just pretending to be helpless? Were you lying?”

A sound like screeching came in response, and it took Arthur a few seconds to realize John was laughing. “Unlike you, Arthur, I’m not a liar. I’ve never been anything other than what

I am. I wanted things to be pleasant between us, but you just wouldn’t let it happen. You let doubt creep into your mind, and it’s hurt me too much for me to forgive you.”

Arthur trembled. He looked back at Judith. She was frantically talking on the phone and he could only catch her end of the conversation. “What do you mean, ‘deal with it yourself’?! We don’t know what the hell we’re dealing with! He’s some kind of monster who's been screwing with us for the past few hours! We need your help!”

He breathed out. He stepped closer to the door. “You really mean it? You’ll get out, one way or another?”

John sighed, a sound like crackling static. “It’s inevitable, I promise.” Arthur stepped even closer. “What’ll happen if I let you out?”
“No. Question time is over. Now. Open. The. Door.”
Arthur reached for the doorknob. And then his hand retreated. “No. I can’t.”

Silence. The pounding stopped. Judith’s phone call had gone quiet as Socket hung up on her. The only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic beating of Arthur’s own heart, and the sound of what could have been claws dragging across the metal surface of the other side of the door.

“Actually,” John said, a tone of finality in his voice, “I don’t think your choice matters anymore.”

The door shattered like shards of glass of a broken mirror. Shrapnel collapsed to the floor, cascading down like grains of sand down a dune. Judith gripped Arthur’s shoulder as she yanked him away.

John stepped out, and the pair took several strides backwards. It looked like him, long hair, lanky frame and all, yet he was fundamentally different then either investigator had seen him prior to this moment. He looked less like himself and more like something strange, something otherworldly, something distinctly inhuman wore his body like a poor disguise. When he walked out of the now empty door frame, he walked wrong, looking less like someone taking natural steps and more like he simply willed his foot to be where he wanted it to be.

His face looked less like his own - too still and too calm for the rage that Arthur felt bubbling underneath - and more like a mask, the only part betraying the life within being, of

course, the eyes, vivid and piercing and dark as the night, and never leaving Arthur’s own gaze. When he spoke, it was cold, and a bit playful, and his mouth did not move with the words. “Looks like I don’t need either of you to escape anymore.”

He reached his arms up to grab the walls, and Arthur had to tilt his head up to truly grasp how tall he’d gotten. He noted the shackles still connected to his wrists, and the long chains dragging behind him.

“He’s still chained up,” Arthur said, “he’s still connected to the wall. But how? The chains weren’t that long, were they?”

“Who cares? Run!” Judith grabbed his arm and yanked him along down the hall. John gave chase, his arms far too long and far too twisted, clawing at the cement walls and dragging him forward as he charged - no, glided - down the hallway after them, his long hair floating behind him like he was underwater.

The pair ran into the larger room. John did too - or rather, he tried, before he was suddenly stopped with a jolt, the chains on his wrists and neck pulled taught and keeping him barely restrained to the hallway.

Arthur’s breathing was ragged as he explained. “He’s still chained to the wall. He can’t get us yet.”

“Yet.” John echoed, a chuckle following as he strained against his shackles.

Judith groaned as she pulled as much distance between them as possible. “Socket says that since it’s now confirmed a paranormal case, we’ve got to find some kind of way to deal with him. This job, I tell you, we need a fucking union.”

Suddenly, the groan of iron caught both their attention. The chain of John’s left arm snapped under the tension, jingling as it clattered free. John shook his free hand in amusement. “Oh, would you look at that?”

Judith grimaced as she heard another groan of iron following. “Shit, what do we do?!”

Arthur scanned the room. The Old Man was gone. The seat he’d been tied to now sat empty, the only reminder that he’d been there was the loose rope that had been restraining him.

“Dammit,” Judith placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Fuck him, we’ve got bigger problems now.”

“All this bickering and stalling and whining,” John interrupted, another clatter signaling that he broke the chain of his right foot this time. “This is all your fault. This is only your fault.”

Arthur stepped forward. “This is why we hesitated, John. We wanted to give you a chance-”

John swung his loose hand. Judith shouted a warning. “Arthur, duck!”

It was too late. The large hand connected with Arthur’s temple, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.