Sorry for the short chapter. I started this up at like 2 am when the creative juices began flowing. It's been a while since I've written anything, so forgive me if this chapter is a bit awkward; I'm rusty after months without writing. Also, if any of you are still following this story, I urge you to write a review. Part of the reason I haven't been motivated to continue was because the reviews came to a halt. Your input really drives me, guys. So please, even if you're a guest, REVIEW!

The wooden door opened a fraction of an inch, a single eye peering out from the crack. A few seconds passed and the door opened slowly. Sebastian stepped out into the hall, looking every which way for signs of any other presence. Fairly certain that they were the only two men in this area, he turned and beckoned for Simon to come out into the hall.

"What—"

"Shhhh," hissed Sebastian.

Simon looked around nervously. He silently stepped over to the wall and crouched down. Sebastian followed his lead and hunched next to him.

Quieter this time, "What's the plan? You did have a plan, right?" Simon asked, failing to hide the tension in his voice.

Sebastian nodded. "We need to get back into that other hall and go out the way we came."

Simon's frown deepened. "But what about the doctor?"

Sebastian raised himself a bit and peeked around the corner of the office window to make sure no one was coming. Seeing that it was clear, he lowered himself down to Simon's level and spoke. "We can't sit here much longer. We gotta get movin' if we're both gonna get out of this in one piece. We move quietly and we get to the door we came in through."

"That still doesn't answer my question," Simon replied.

"Well what the hell d'ya think we're gonna do with the doctor? Play charades? We're gonna fight 'im if we run into 'im. You can fight, can't ya?"

"Um . . . define—"

"Oh just forget it. Jesus," Sebastian interrupted. "Let's go." And with that, Sebastian stood and hopped through the window. Simon heard a grunt when the other man landed.

"Your leg—"

"I'm fine," Sebastian said testily. "Grab something, anything that you can possibly use as some sorta weapon."

Simon jumped through the window and into the cluttered office. His eyes drifted to the papers strewn about the floor, searching for a blunt object. All he could see in the small space was paper, two desks, a whiteboard, a phone that's dial tone was beginning to grate on his already frayed nerves . . . and a key.

The elevator key. Simon's eyes moved to Sebastian digging around in the drawers of one of the desks. "Think we should take the elevator key?" Simon asked. Sebastian looked up at him and then over to where he was pointing.

"Don't think a key's gonna do ya much good, sport," he replied dryly.

"No, no. We can take, it, just in case. Like a plan B."

"Shit, whatever floats your boat," said Sebastian, going back to digging through the desk. Simon went over to where the bronze key hung from a hook on the wall. He grabbed it started to put it in his pocket before realizing he didn't have one. He'd have to carry it on the way out.

"Fuck it."

Simon turned to see Sebastian rip the entire top drawer from the office desk. Sebastian held it up. "This'll do."

"Alright then. I have the key, you have . . . that."

"It's better than having a fuckin' useless key," Sebastian shot back condescendingly. Simon brushed off the jab and moved to the office door.

Before touching the door knob, Simon stepped to the left and peeked his head through the broken window. No sign of the doctor. Breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped back to the door and opened it. He entered the hall, followed by the drawer-wielding Sebastian. As they inched closer to the doors at the end of the hall, anxiety began to build. Each step came with the horrifying thought of the doctor bursting through the doors after them. Simon glanced over to Sebastian, who was shuffling up against the wall. He was beginning to worry about the other man's wellbeing. If they needed to run . . .

They reached the door, and both men strained their ears for any sound. Simon held his breath and gripped the key nestled in the palm of his hand as if it were some sort of lifeline. Sebastian was the first to make a move for the door handle. Simon watched on nervously as he turned it and slowly opened the door. Sebastian moved his head side to side, scanning the environment. He turned his head to Simon, giving him a look that said Follow me. He then stepped out into the hall and Simon filed in right behind him, closing the door silently as he did.

It was so quiet. Excruciatingly quiet. Simon had never heard this floor so damn quiet. It was almost suffocating. That was his only thought as the two of them made their way down the hall; Sebastian, drawer at the ready, and Simon watching from behind. They were over halfway to where the hall split off.

So close. Maybe we'll make it.

Simon was gaining some hope.

And that hope was crushed when he heard the sound of a door creaking open from somewhere far behind them. Simon's spine went rigid, and Sebastian jerked around.

"Hey! Buddies!" came the booming voice from the other end of the hall.

"Go!" Simon shrieked at Sebastian, who had already began hobbling away.

"Oh you two aren't going anywhere. Except the operating table," Trager called darkly from behind them. Simon dared not look back to see how close he was, his eyes were set only on his goal.

"Hurry! We're almost there!" he cried as he half-pushed, half-supported the injured Sebastian. They turned the corner and clambered for the wrought-iron door. Sebastian slammed his body against it, frantically searching in the dark for the handle. He fumbled for a split second before grasping it and yanking it down.

Click.

Click, click, click, click.

The door was locked!

"Aww. What's this?" came the irritatingly sociable voice. Simon and Sebastian turned to see Trager come around the corner, his hands folded behind his back. "Seems someone locked the door. Wonder who would do such a thing, hmm?" The doctor eyed the two shaking men before him, and he let out a low chuckle.

"Let us go, you sick fucker!" snarled Sebastian.

Trager quieted and regarded the man. Even in the dark, Simon could tell the doctor was giving him a death glare. "Ah, why would I? This is perfect! My ex-assistant and the asshole who helped him undermine my operation, and broke my glasses I might add," Trager said with barely contained anger. "No, I think we all need to have a chat."

With a grunt of pain and anger, Sebastian pushed himself from the door and lunged at the doctor. Simon watched on in shock as Sebastian brought the drawer up and swing at Trager.

"Oomph!" Trager cried out as the drawer collided with the side of his face. Sebastian took the opportunity to hurl his entire body at the doctor and brought both of them to the ground.

"Simon, go!" yelled Sebastian as he struggled to keep the man beneath him subdued.

Simon sprinted forward and jumped over both men and ran straight through the door leading to the elevator. He turned around, wanting to help his friend in some way.

Knowing that the idiot would hesitate, Sebastian called over to him, "GO! JUST GO!" He then let out a grunt as Trager landed a blow to his face.

Simon spared one last glance to the two struggling figures on the floor, then to the small key in his hand. Disheartened, he turned away and ran into the elevator, inserting the key and pressing the button for the first floor. As the door closed, Simon vowed to never forget the sacrifice Sebastian had made for him.

The struggle had progressed in Trager's favor. Sebastian was now pinned below the mad doctor, who had been hiding the shears behind his back the entire time. Said shears were now attempting to run him through. His grip on Trager's wrists was becoming weaker, and he knew this was one fight he would not win. The crushing weight of the doctor's knee on his diaphragm, and the weakness of his arms were begging him to give in. His eyes were on his opponent's, whose were narrowed in anger and exertion.

"Just . . . give up," Trager grunted, forcing the shears closer to Sebastian's neck.

Tears were forming in Sebastian's eyes, but the man refused to cry. Not here, at Death's door. He refused to cry or beg. Instead, he grit his teeth, narrowed his eyes at the monster looming over him, and spoke his final words: "GO . . . TO HELL . . . YOU FUCKING WANNABE DOCTOR PIECE OF SHIT!"

The blade of the shears was forced all the way through his neck. His eyes bulged from their sockets and blood gurgled from his mouth and puncture wounds. "Don't you EVER—" Trager yelled as he struggled to pull the handle of the shears apart. ". . . call ME—"

The blades had separated an inch, tearing through Sebastian's throat in a horizontal line.

". . . A WANNABE!"

With a sick ripping sound, Sebastian's entire head was detached from his body. Trager remained on top of him, glaring down at him hatefully as he caught his breath. After a moment, his animalistic pants silenced, and he slowly stood. His entire body was tense.

"FUCK!" He kicked Sebastian's head against the wall. "Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!" he cried out as he kicked and stomped on the headless corpse. He did not stop kicking until his foot ached. Once he was finally done, he lifted his mask and spat on the body. His outburst felt good. He needed that stress reliever. But he was still not satisfied. This man, while a complete pain in his side, was not the one who he wanted.

"You're a dead man, Simon."