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"Over here, you freak!" I shouted, taunting him, voice sharp in my own ears. It was working – he was focused on me, his predatory instinct demanding he finish off the main prey first.
A surge of wild hope pulsed through me. One chance. In that single moment, all of Daddy's self-defense advice came flooding back – not technique, but intent. This wasn't a fight about technique, it was about survival. I launched myself forward, not to inflict damage, but to distract. I ducked the swing aimed at my torso, felt the burn of flesh as the knife barely sliced across my back. No clean injury – an ugly reminder that pain didn't mean I was beaten. My hands closed around a heavy crystal vase, a decorative touch turned improvised weapon. All I thought of was hitting him enough to turn the tide.
With a grunt, I swung. It connected with his raised arm, the heavy object smashing against bone. I heard his choked growl as he staggered backward, the knife momentarily thrown off trajectory.
That was enough. With a frantic cry to Mike, we were through the balcony door, slamming it shut behind us. There was barely time to shove a massive chair under the handle before Finn began to hurl his weight against the barricade. But the precious moments were won. And through the heavy thuds against the sturdy wood, I heard something far more satisfying – confusion and frustration bleeding through his enraged bellows.
This wasn't a victory, not by a long shot. But for the first time since that terrible shadow had entered our world, I saw a crack in his monstrous control. We were bruised, and bleeding a bit, and more terrified than ever before. But, something within me was no longer prey. And somehow, I knew that flicker of something primal and desperate was also ignited in Mike. As if to confirm, his trembling voice reached me.
"I'm scared, Lina. But, he's gonna have to break every single Lego in this world before I let him hurt you again."
Soon, each thud against the wooden barricade chipped away not just at the barrier, but at my frayed hope. Finn’s frustrated roars filled the space, an echo of the beast raging within. Then came the splintering crack that froze my veins. One final bellow, and then an unnatural quiet. With a final crash, the door burst open. His manic expression seared into my brain – the mask now askew, eyes wild, hair matted with sweat. Every cell in my body screamedrun, but before I could make a move, his focus shifted. Mike.
“Thought you could play hero, little punk?” Finn lunged, the knife a chilling flash of light. Mike stumbled backward, pure terror painted across his face. That look shattered whatever was left of me. “Let him go!” I screamed, desperate and useless. The blade pressed against Mike’s neck, and everything else faded.
"Stay back, princess." Finn’s voice was a growl. "One step closer, and he bleeds. Maybe not now, but slow, so you watch every precious drop leave his body.”
As Finn gripped Mike tighter, a sob erupted from the friend I'd sworn to protect. My legs were like lead, unable to move. But my words echoed through the room, my heart thundering in my chest. “It's me you want, Finn! Whatever you’ve planned… he’s innocent. Just let him go. Please.”
The hope in Mike’s eyes tore at me even as he tried to sound fierce. "Run, Lina! Save yourself. I'll figure it out."
Finn chuckled, a chilling sound. "See? Now we're finally getting back to the way things should be. Just you and me." He pressed the knife harder, barely drawing any blood but causing Mike to gasp in pain. “And this brat learns that no one comes before me. Ever.”
I choked back a sob. How could any choice in this moment be the right one? What if the next time Finn lashed out, Mike wasn't so lucky as to just see the flash of steel? The guilt would hang around my neck heavier than any chain.
“Okay," I exhaled, a trembling surrender. “Do what you want. All I ask in return is you leave Mike alone. Spare his life, and I’ll come with you willingly."
For one heart-stopping moment, Finn seemed surprised. Victory was one thing, but the sight of me giving in completely? Something flickered behind his monstrous glee. And it was Mike who suddenly gasped. "Lina, don't do this!"
In two monstrous strides, Finn was beside me, grabbing my arm so tight it made the cut on my back throb with fresh pain. The knife was withdrawn from Mike's neck, his relief turning into a wide-eyed, helpless terror as I was all but dragged toward the open doorway. Just before we disappeared into the darkness of the mansion, my heart broke as I finally turned my eyes back towards him.
“Take the knife,” Finn barked. “Tie him up tight. I'll show you what happens to little heroes who defy their betters.”
My insides turned to ice. Alone. In the dark. His hands bound by nothing but my trembling fingers. It felt worse than any nightmare. "Oh, Mikey, I'm so, so sorry.”
Tears slid down my face as I fumbled with the scattered rope. I couldn't make eye contact, only managed a choked whisper.
"You’re my best friend. I love you. You have to know that. Hold on, Mike. Oh, and tell Daddy that I’m..." The light vanished as I was dragged out of the room by Finn. The heavy door closed behind me, trapping Mike in our shattered sanctuary. In the blinding darkness, my last image was not Finn's leer, but Mike's eyes – shining with unshed tears and something harder, something defiant.
Soon, each jolt of Finn's old van felt like a countdown to who knew what. A remote cabin for his sick game of torture? Some abandoned warehouse where my screams would go unheard? And with every jarring bump, every flicker of fear that flashed behind my blindfold, the image of Mike burned onto my memory. Alone. His eyes filled with betrayal as darkness surrounded him.
Had Mike really meant that “I hate you” when I broke his precious mom’s vase? In my gut, I knew he loved me deep down, understood some sliver of why I made such an impossible choice.
Another figure swam into my racing mind. One of Daddy. In my panic, he had felt so distant, but now, each small kindness flooded back – him making ridiculous milkshakes with extra whipped cream on top to fight off a wave of darkness, just because I offhandedly said it'd help when I first moved into the mansion. How that gruff yet gentle exterior housed a man determined to give me back a tiny flicker of the happiness I had lost during my time with Finn. Or that rainy afternoon where we stayed home with stacks of old children's books, and how his deep voice brought life to fantastical tales, creating a tiny oasis amidst the looming, unspoken threat Finn always embodied.
And then, it crashed against me - why the image of Daddy was intertwined with Mike. I had yearned so desperately for someone to protect me, a hero amidst the storm. Now I realized there had been moments - imperfect, flawed, yet true. Moments they offered something better. My head fell back against the worn seat, and through the darkness, a memory of Mike came unbidden - chasing me through the club, not in terror, but in unrestrained joy. Him in his ridiculous dinosaur onesie, and me with a hastily drawn mustache pretending to be a swashbuckling pirate. Laughter filling the air for the first time in weeks, pure playfulness washing away the weight of the world, even if just for a little while.
I'd wanted someone to fight my dragons for me, a perfect fairytale shield. And it took this moment for the terrible realization to crystallize. They'd been fighting alongside me. Mike, in his fierce bravery with those fists, and Daddy, with that unshakeable belief in giving me the tools to maybe stand tall someday.
Suddenly, a bitter laugh broke through the suffocating fear. Happiness didn't have some magic guarantee. Just because, for a sliver of time, I got to taste that simple kind of being, the normal that had always been stolen, it didn't erase Finn. This monster would find you even through those tiny moments of reprieve. Yet, another terrible certainty settled in my bones. Finn won this battle, took control again. Maybe his worst punishment lay in whatever sick satisfaction he felt seeing what he did to me. But there was rage too, alongside the crushing weight of despair.
That last goodbye might have been forced, but I still loved those men. Daddy. And my silly yet brave Mike. He might have whispered 'I love you' with tears in his eyes, while Finn watched over his shoulder for effect. That's fine. Now, all alonein the suffocating darkness, bound for Finn's unknown horrors, I had a voice too. Not the voice of a scared Little, but one that burned with fury.
My mind raced on as the van screeched to a halt - where was I, what waited in the next few hours, was death imminent? And most importantly, would I ever get to see Daddy, Mike, Uncle Joe and Elijah again?
Chapter 16: Hank
AS JOE AND I MADE OUR WAY BACK TO HIS MANSION, laden with groceries that seemed to cater more to our Littles than to ourselves, our conversation naturally drifted into a lighthearted banter.
