11. Metal Door

Edward craned his neck upward toward the stairs that stretched toward a heavy metal door. The corners of the stairwell looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. Taking a deep breath, Edward began his ascent. Step by step, the distance between the door and the group of abductees closed.

Tap… tap… tap…

The metal door, which had seemed so distant from the bottom of the steps, was finally within arm's reach. Up close, it lost its hazy quality; it was caked in rust and shared the exact same neglected state as the stairs. But the most noticeable thing about it was that it had absolutely no handle on this side.

Edward caught this immediately and pointed toward the frame. Turning to Violet, who was right behind him, he mimed grasping an imaginary handle with his hand and rapidly shook his head. Violet narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher what he was trying to convey. After a moment, she gave him a firm nod.

Edward was entirely baffled by her reaction, thinking in sheer confusion... What do you mean, 'yes'? What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to open it?

Violet simply returned to her usual stillness.

Seeing that she refused to provide any practical suggestions, Edward looked past her toward Heath. Heath just returned a stern, unhelpful glare. God, I miss Robert, Edward grumbled internally.

Shaking his head, he brushed the useless thoughts aside and focused entirely on the obstacle. First, he pressed both palms flat against the iron and tried to push it open with his weight. The slab didn't budge an inch. Edward praised his own tactical intuition. I knew it. It won’t open from this side.

Edward bent backward, leaning close to Violet's face. Bypassing her gaze, he whispered directly into her ear, “What should I do? It won’t open from this side.”

Violet locked her golden eyes onto Edward’s. She continued to stare at him for a long stretch, prolonging the silence, as if searching for something hidden deep within his eyes. Finally, she replied, “Knock. I will be right behind you.”

Edward’s eyes widened in utter shock. He criticized her internally: That’s what you came up with? To knock on the enemy's door? After giving you all that time to think?

Edward turned back to the door, shaking his head in complete disagreement with his own next action.

Clang… clank… clang…

A few agonizing seconds passed, but no reply came from the other side. Edward raised his fist to strike the metal surface a second time, but he was abruptly interrupted by a voice.

On the other side of the door, a solitary lantern hung from the ceiling. The dimensions of the room were identical to the storage room below it, featuring a separate staircase going upward to the next floor directly opposite the cellar door.

Wooden worktables were laid out around the metal door, leaving just enough space for a clear access path. Various types of flasks used for distillation, heating, and fluid transfer were scattered across the tabletops.

A middle-aged man with brown hair stood near the tables. His face looked like it hadn’t received a single drop of water in days. He wore loose clothes fit for summer: a collarless grey shirt and a pair of baggy shorts that looked like they might fall down at any moment, though they somehow remained securely hitched around his waist.

When the knocking echoed, he spoke up in a raspy, hoarse voice. “What happened, Ma? Your shift isn’t even over yet.”

The hoarse-voiced man’s shout carried a distinct hint of anger from behind the metal barrier.

Clang… clank… clang…

“What?”

Thoroughly annoyed now, the man grabbed the internal handle to crack the door open slightly. He thought to exert some caution.

But it was already too late.

The moment Edward saw the seam of the door split open, he threw a heavy kick against the metal. The slightly unlatched door jolted fully open, the momentum violently throwing the hoarse-voiced man backward onto the ground.

Seizing the golden opportunity without even scanning the rest of the room, Edward jumped straight at the fallen guard. He pinned him down, landing squarely on top of the man's stomach and grabbing both of his wrists with his own hands, anchoring him to the floor while he waited for the rest of the group to secure the room.

BANG!

A deafening roar that could instantly stun an ear exploded right beside his head. Edward was jolted by the sharp, concussive blast, only to realize that the man he had pinned down was already dead. A smoking bullet hole was drilled directly into his forehead.

Edward whipped his head around. He saw the barrel of the revolver letting out a thin trail of grey smoke. Violet held the weapon, looking down at him with a cold, unblinking expression.

Shocked by the sudden, lethal escalation, Edward was momentarily frozen. But without giving him a single second to collect his thoughts, Violet grabbed the collar of his gown at the neck and forcefully dragged him out of the open lane, pulling him behind a heavy wooden table.

Edward, still slightly dazed, was completely at a loss for words over how easily Violet had just hauled his weight into the cover.

Bang… bang… bang…!

Three bullets fired simultaneously from across the room. The loud, incoming cracks helped Edward break through his daze as he looked back toward the stairwell. The metal door was now completely shut.

Edward stared in absolute disbelief. They left us? Alone? What the hell... I opposed your plan, Stuart, but that didn’t mean you were supposed to leave us here to die!

Edward turned his head toward Violet, his tone turning sharply unpleasant. “Why did you use our only bullet on the guy I already had pinned down?”

Violet let out an annoyed hiss. “Tsk… you were completely in the open. The others had a clear line of sight on you. Thank me later. For now, shouldn’t we think about how to keep our heads intact, Mr. Ratel?”

Edward clenched his fists, forcing himself to calm down so he could think clearly. Clearing his mind of the betrayal, he asked instantly, “What do you see?”

Bang… bang…!

Shots continued to hammer against their wooden cover. “It’s some kind of laboratory," Violet replied in a short, swift manner. "Two people left, one dead. Both have guns.”

The two men firing at them had distinct features. One was a man of small stature—the very same guard who had previously surrendered his ammunition to the giant. The other man possessed a distinctly flamboyant, gay-ish vibe with white loose shirt and tight jeans.

The heavy metal door that had just been shut began to groan under a sudden bombardment of bullets, making a sharp creaking sound. The metal screeched, and then, the door suddenly came alive. It started moving forward into the room, taking the incoming bullets head-on as the rounds dented its exterior surface.

As soon as Edward saw the iron door moving on its own, he spotted pairs of bare feet shuffling underneath the frame. He realized instantly that Heath had unhinged the metal door using his sheer, brute strength to use it as a moving shield.

Not wasting the opportunity, Edward looked toward Violet, who was already poised to leap out from behind the table and start running. Just as she was about to break cover, Edward grabbed her hand, anchoring her in place.

Confused, Violet snapped, “What?”

Edward pulled her back down into their secure position. “Let me go first. You knock the gun from his hand.”

With those words spoken, Edward bolted out from behind the table. A twisted, highly reluctant expression crossed Violet's face, but she followed right behind him.

Heath was marching steadily toward the two gunmen, using the door to block their fire. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Edward charging hard toward the guard firing from the left. A fierce smile spread across Heath's face as he redirected his own advance toward the gunman on the right.

The gay-ish man, who was desperately firing at the moving iron shield to protect his partner, was thoroughly frightened. He knew that if these captives had managed to break through this fast, Ma, the giant, was almost certainly dead. But that didn't matter now—their improvised cover wasn't going to save them.

Click… click…

The gay-ish man's revolver clicked empty. Letting out a sharp tsk, he scrambled to reload his cylinder. Taking a quick glance at the field while fumbling with his ammunition, he noticed that the massive iron door shield was bearing down on his partner.

Suddenly, the gay-ish man’s vision flipped. He saw the ceiling, then the hanging lantern, and the entire room felt like it was violently revolving. With a heavy thud, his body slammed hard against the floor as Edward took him down.