The deafening sound of gunfire erupted throughout the apartment, echoing off the walls as bullets tore through the air. Bullets whizzed past, shattering glass and splintering wood as the armed men exchanged fire with adversaries they couldn’t even see.

Suddenly, Liam sauntered into the apartment with a smirk on his face, raising a hand to signal for the shooting to stop.

"Cease-fire, you bunch of trigger-happy idiots!" Liam said playfully. "Random shooting isn't very sporting, now is it?"

The armed men glanced nervously at each other before lowering their weapons at Liam's command. Then, Liam glanced around the room, and he soon realized that Jett, Mick, Charlotte, Whimsy, and even Morris were nowhere to be seen.

Liam shook his head in mock disappointment. "You fools were just shooting thin air."

One of the armed men, piped up with a foolish remark. "Maybe they're hiding in the closets," he suggested with a nervous chuckle.

Liam's lips curled into a wicked smile as he turned to face the man. "Or maybe they're just smarter than you," he replied, with a grin. "Now, be a good little lackey and hand over your gun."

The armed man chuckled nervously, offering up his weapon with shaky hands. "Sure thing, boss," he replied.

Without warning, Liam’s expression turned as cold as ice. In one swift motion, he raised the gun and fired a single shot. The man crumpled to the ground, lifeless, a look of shock on his frozen face.

"Alright, boys, time to earn your keep." Liam announced, his voice chillingly calm. "Fan out and take care of our guests. Except for Jett, of course. He's... special."

As the armed men spread throughout the house, Liam brought out a gleaming knife from his coat pocket, and twirled it idly between his fingers. "This is the fun I’ve been looking for. After all, what’s fun without a little blood?"

Liam then made his way to another part of the house.

***

The sounds of gunfire still ringing in their ears, Jett, Whimsy, Eric, Charlotte, and Mick sprinted through the corridors of Eric’s apartment, their breaths ragged.

Jett's heart pounded in his chest as he glanced over at Eric. "Where are we going?" he panted.

Eric quickly accessed their surroundings. "We need to find a secure location, away from the main entrance," he explained. "Preferably a room with minimal entry points."

"But wouldn't it be better to head for the exit? Get out of here before they catch up to us?"

Eric paused in his tracks, turning to face Jett. "If we head for the exit, we'll be walking right into Liam’s crosshairs. We need to stay one step ahead of him."

Jett opened his mouth to argue, but Eric cut him off. "No time for debate. We need to split up."

"No way," Jett protested. "If we stick together, we stand a better chance—"

"Shut up and listen," Eric interrupted harshly. "Liam is after you and you alone. If we all stay together, we're putting everyone at risk."

Reluctantly, Jett nodded. Jett could see that there was some logic in Eric’s reasoning. "Fine," he conceded. "But if anything happens to any of us..."

"Then we'll deal with it as it comes," Eric interjected. "Now, let's divide into pairs. Jett, you're with Mick. Charlotte, you're with Whimsy. I'll go solo."

Whimsy decided to crack a joke. "Guess it's time for the buddy system, huh? Just like in those horror movies where the friends always split up and—"

Eric interrupted Whimsy. "Now's not the time for jokes. We need to move, now."

Everyone nodded, and then the group went their separate ways, each pair heading in separate directions.

***

Whimsy and Charlotte darted through the winding corridors of the mansion. Antique paintings adorned the walls and flickering candle sconces showed them the light they needed.

"This way," Whimsy whispered.

However, as they hurried along, the corridors of the mansion proved to be very confusing. Soon, they found themselves at a dead end, trapped with nowhere to go.

"Well, this is just peachy," Whimsy remarked dryly as they glanced around frantically. "We’re lost in a haunted mansion. How cliché. I can already hear the horror movie soundtrack playing."

Charlotte clutched at Whimsy’s arm as she glanced around with her eyes wide with terror.

Whimsy tried to cheer her up. "Come on, Char, lighten up. If we're gonna die horribly, we might as well do it with a smile, right?"

But Charlotte remained silent, her hands trembling at her sides.

Suddenly, Liam walked towards them, twirling a gleaming knife in his hands. "Well, isn’t this a cruel twist of fate?" he mused in amusement. "Lost lambs in the lion’s den."

Whimsy turned to face Liam. "You sure are a bundle of sunshine. You always find a way to show up and cause someone trauma."

Liam's smirk only widened. "Not everybody," he taunted. "You, for instance, seem to be lacking in the trauma department."

"Trust me, it’s plenty. Spending time with you is enough," Whimsy retorted.

Liam ignored Whimsy as he pointed his knife at Charlotte. "Hello, beautiful," he sneered. "It really is a small world, isn't it?"

Liam then walked closer to Charlotte and tried to touch her but Whimsy stepped in between them.

"Back off, Liam," Whimsy warned.

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Liam’s grin widened as he showed Whimsy his knife. "I suggest you move out of the way, Whimsy," he warned. "Or things might get messy."

Whimsy stood their ground. "Not a chance, Liam," they retorted.

Liam’s smile vanished, and it was immediately replaced with pure evil. "Move, or I'll end you where you stand."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Whimsy shot back.

Liam’s smirk then returned as he held up Whimsy’s ring. Liam had managed to swipe it from Whimsy’s finger.

"When the hell did you swipe that?" Whimsy wondered, as they checked their finger and realized that their ring was gone.

Liam chuckled as he tossed the ring aside. "At least now I know that when I kill you... you won't come back."

Before Whimsy could say anything in reply, Liam lunged at them with his knife aimed at their neck. With quick reflexes, Whimsy twisted their body, narrowly avoiding the blade. "You could at least warn me beforehand, you cheater!" Whimsy joked.

"You could at least warn me beforehand, you cheater!" Whimsy joked.

Then, Whimsy delivered a powerful kick to Liam's face, the impact cracking his jaw. Liam's smile vanished for just a moment before chuckling darkly in perverse satisfaction. "Good, very good."

Liam threw a punch at Whimsy but Whimsy deftly blocked the punch then retaliated with a barrage of kicks to Liam’s stomach. Then, with a swift tackle, Whimsy brought Liam crashing to the ground. "Looks like I’ve still got it, huh?" Whimsy remarked with a grin.

Liam laughed as he pushed himself back up. A laugh filled with madness. "This is so exciting."

Liam lunged forward once more, his knife still aimed at Whimsy’s neck. Whimsy was able to dodge the attack once more with a twist of their body, but Liam was ready.

"Gotcha!"

Liam quickly brought out a second knife from his coat pocket and stabbed Whimsy’s side with a vicious thrust. Whimsy grunted in pain, blood staining their clothes as they stumbled backward.

Meanwhile, Charlotte watched in horror, her body trembling as she watched the fight in front of her.

Liam then walked towards Whimsy and gave a chilling smile. "As a friend, I will grant you a rather swift death," he declared as he raised his two knives.

But Whimsy, refusing to go down without a fight, seized a broken tile from the floor and struck back, stabbing Liam in the shoulder. Liam winced in pain but his twisted smile remained on his face.

"Magnificent," he hissed through gritted teeth. "This pain is... magnificent. You never cease to surprise me, Whimsy. Never! Good job!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with madness and pleasure.

Despite their wounds, Whimsy chuckled weakly. "D - Damn, you're one sick b..."

Before they could finish, Liam removed the tile from his shoulder and plunged it into Whimsy’s chest with brutal force. Gasping for air, Whimsy collapsed to the ground, their hands clutching their bleeding chest.

Liam heaved a sigh of relief then turned to face Charlotte. "It's just you and me now, my dear," he said with a grin.

But Whimsy wasn't finished yet. Summoning every ounce of strength they had left, they lunged forward and tackled Liam to the ground.

"Run, Charlotte, run!" Whimsy shouted hoarsely as they struggled to hold Liam down.

As Charlotte fled, Whimsy reached into their pocket and pulled out a grenade, pulling the pin with a flick of their thumb. Liam's eyes widened in horror as he realized what was about to happen, "You sick bastard."

Whimsy chuckled, "Hey, this is hard for me too, alright. The last thing I want is to end up doing a double-suicide with the likes of you."

Before Liam could act, the grenade detonated with a deafening roar, engulfing the hallway in a fiery inferno.

***

Jett and Mick found themselves in a narrow hallway, the walls adorned with faded wallpaper peeling at the edges. Jett's eyes glowed a bright sapphire blue as he used his spatial awareness to help navigate the house a bit better.

Suddenly, he spotted two armed men approaching from the far end of the hallway.

"I wonder if I should just teleport," he muttered to himself, as he contemplated his options. "No, Mick is here with me. I don't think I can teleport two people at once..." He glanced down at the ring on his finger. "...or maybe I can."

Taking a deep breath, Jett grasped Mick's hand tightly. Instantly, his hands began to glow with a brilliant blue light as they vanished into thin air, reappearing outside of Eric's apartment building.

"Alright. It works," Jett declared, as he glanced around their new surroundings.

Mick, equally impressed, remarked, "That power of yours really comes in handy."

Jett nodded in agreement before gazing back at the apartment building with a hint of regret. "If I had known, I would've just teleported everybody out of the apartment earlier."

"We can still go back in and look for them," Mick suggested.

But Jett shook his head. "Liam is after me. If I go in there, I will just be endangering everybody else."

Mick clenched his fists. "Liam won't stop until he kills everybody in there. He's doing it for pleasure, and not just to capture you. We have to save the others."

"But it will be too dangerous to go back," Jett stated.

"I don’t want to watch anymore people die. We can't just leave them, Jett. Please."

"Fine," Jett relented. "But if we don't find anybody after five minutes, I'll teleport us back here."

Mick nodded in agreement, and then they made their way back into the apartment through another entrance. Suddenly, a deafening explosion rocked the building, sending debris raining down around them.

One large chunk struck Jett, knocking him to the ground unconscious, while the remaining rubble blocked his path, separating him from Mick.

On the other side of the debris, Mick shouted Jett's name in desperation, while pounding against the large chuck of rock. "Jett! Jett! Shit! Shit!" he exclaimed.

***

Eric winced as he staggered down the hallway, his hand pressed tightly against his side where blood seeped through his fingers from a gunshot wound.

"I would’ve just slowed the others down if I followed them," Eric told himself.

He finally paused in a small alcove, his back pressed against the wall as he inspected his wound. "Thank goodness, it's not a severe injury," he muttered to himself.

"Was it a good idea to tell the others to split up?" Eric questioned aloud. But after a moment, he nodded to himself. "Yes, it was. It will lessen the chances of Liam finding Jett."

As Eric was lost in his thoughts, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. With a flick of his wrist, his ring began to glow, connecting Eric’s mind to a nearby security camera. Through its lens, he saw that the person approaching was Morris.

"Glad, you're alive," Eric said in his usual neutral tone.

Morris smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Glad to see you too, Master Eric."

He quickly noticed Eric's bleeding wound and brought out a napkin and supplies to tend to it.

"Do you always have these things on you?" Eric asked in surprise.

"Of course, Master Eric," Morris replied with a small smile as he tended to Eric’s injury.

"We can take care of my wound later. We need to keep moving so that we can catch up to the others," Eric insisted. Morris then chuckled softly, prompting Eric to raise a brow in curiosity. "What's funny?"

Morris smiled warmly then said, "I remember that time when we were renovating the old shed in the backyard. You were what, about nine years old, I reckon? You had this wild idea that you wanted to fix it up all by yourself, despite it being quite difficult for someone your age. I offered to lend a hand, but you stubbornly refused. You ended up hurting your arm but you still managed to renovate that old shed all by yourself."

A nostalgic expression crossed Eric’s face as he remembered his childhood.

"You were always one to try to do everything yourself, Master Eric," Morris remarked fondly.

"Because everybody around me are idiots," Eric replied.

"Ah, but you were the brightest star among them," Morris teased gently.

Eric muttered, "Yeah."

Morris suddenly doubled-over, coughing up blood and Eric rushed to his side. "You were shot?"

Morris managed a small smile, despite the pain. "Yeah, the bullet went through my liver, Master Eric," he replied.

A pang of guilt stabbed at Eric's heart. "I'm sorry, Morris," Eric whispered, his voice choked with sadness. Genuine sadness.

Morris placed a trembling hand on Eric's cheek, his touch warm and comforting. "It's not your fault, Master Eric. You've always been like a son to me," he whispered, his words touching the very depths of Eric’s soul. "But you still owe me for that time you broke Mrs. Henderson's window," Morris joked, with a faint smile.

For the first time in several years, tears welled up in Eric’s eyes as he let out a small chuckle.

Then, Morris's hand fell away, and his eyes closed as he breathed his last.

A single tear slipped from Eric's eye as he watched Morris pass away before him. The same man that had treated like a son when his own parents had abandoned him.

"Don’t leave me here by myself, Morris. Please, I need you," Eric pleaded, his voice choked with sorrow as tears streamed down his cheeks.