Morning arrived, and with it, the painful realization that I was still here.
I let out a slow breath, staring up at the ceiling. The fluorescent lights continued their daily struggle to stay alive, flickering just enough to remind me that even inanimate objects had it rough. The walls, as always, remained disgustingly perfect—white, sterile, and about as welcoming as a grave. Really doing wonders for my mental health.
And then, there was the door.
Not my door. Not the one that led to the hallway, the one I could open at specific times, as if that somehow gave me a sense of control. No, I was talking about the real door. The one that led outside. The one that simply vanishes and appears again.
It was funny, in a way. People always talked about escape like it was this big, dramatic thing. But how was I supposed to escape something that didn't even have an exit half the time?
Ezekiel's offer loomed in my head, settling like a weight on my chest. I hadn't slept. Not just because of the whole "my body betrayed me by deciding water is an option now" situation, but because I had spent hours replaying his words.
The truth was, I didn't want to take his deal.
But I wanted to stay even less.
I inhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face. "Alright. Screw it." And of course that was the exact moment Ezekiel decided to dance throug my door, a bag in his right hand and with a cup of what smelled like coffee, on the other.
I didn't even flinch anymore. That was the problem with the universe constantly screwing me over, it stopped being surprising after a while.
I sighed, tilting my head toward him. "You seriously need a better hobby."
Ezekiel raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"This. Appearing the second I make terrible life choices." I gestured vaguely at him. "It's creepy."
His lips curled in an infuriatingly amused smile. "I call it efficiency."
I scoffed. "Yeah? Well, I call it proof that I should really start keeping my thoughts to myself." "You wouldn't," he said, completely sure of himself. I scowled. "You don't know that."
Ezekiel gave me a look. "Noah."
"…Okay, fine, maybe you know that."
His smirk widened. "Good. Now, let's talk about your escape."
I folded my arms, deciding that if I was going to sell my soul today, I might as well get some answers first. "Alright, let's start with the obvious. The door. The one that leads outside." "Why does it show up sometimes and then vanish like a bad magic trick?"
Ezekiel's gaze flickered between suprise and understanding. "Ah, you know about it? That makes things a little easier. And for your question, its because it's not meant to be there unless it's needed."
I frowned. "That's the most non-answer answer I've ever heard."
He exhaled, like explaining things to me was a personal burden. "This place isn't just keeping you locked up, it's controlling how and when anyone leaves. The door to the outside only exists when someone is supposed to use it."
"…Supposed to?"
"As in, the asylum decides," he said. "Not you."
Oh. Fantastic. Love that for me.
"So, what? It's on a timer?" I asked, my fingers tapping against my arm.
"Not exactly." He stepped closer, slipping his hands into his pockets. "The door appears when shifts change. Guards, nurses, administration—when one leaves and another arrives."
I stared at him. "So, we're breaking out because of bad scheduling?"
Ezekiel hummed. "Essentially."
I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head.
"That's ridiculous."
"Not if you use it correctly."
I eyed him. "And by 'use it correctly,' you mean 'use it for crimes.'"
"Freedom isn't a crime," Ezekiel countered smoothly.
"…That's exactly what someone committing a crime would say." He smiled like he was enjoying himself far too much. "Good thing I don't concern myself with laws."
Oh, great. My partner-in-crime was a morally ambiguous doctor with zero respect for rules. What could possibly go wrong? Still, my mind was already working through the details. Shift changes. Limited time frame. A chance.
It was doable.
Dangerous, definitely. A terrible idea? Probably. But for once, the idea of taking a risk didn't feel suffocating. It felt… necessary. "Alright," I said, glancing back at the door. "So we just time it right, slip out, and no one notices I'm gone?"
Ezekiel's expression was unreadable. "That's the idea."
I narrowed my eyes. "That was not a 'yes, Noah, exactly, this will go perfectly' tone."
He gave me a vaguely amused look. "Would you believe me if I said it will?"
"No."
"Then why would I waste my breath lying?" Oh, for the love of— I dragged a hand through my hair. "Okay, so what's the catch?"
"The catch," he said, voice light, "is that the moment they realize you're gone, they will search for you." Of course they will.
"They won't just assume I finally snapped and walked into an alternate dimension?" I asked dryly.
Ezekiel tilted his head. "While that would be amusing, no." I groaned. "Great. So, what's the plan for that part?"
"You let me handle it." See, that was not reassuring.
"Right," I muttered. "Because you're just overflowing with trustworthiness."
Ezekiel smiled. "Exactly."
I stared at him. "That wasn't a compliment." "I'm choosing to take it as one."
I was going to regret this. I already knew it. But as I looked at the door, at the possibility of it slamming shut forever if I hesitated too long, I knew I couldn't stay here.
Whatever waited for me on the other side, whatever Ezekiel had planned, whatever twisted reason he had for helping me…
It was better than being trapped. I met his gaze, my throat tight. "Alright," I said. "Let's do this."
Ezekiel's smirk returned, slow and knowing. "Good choice." I wasn't so sure about that.
But it was too late to turn back now.