He didn't know when, but Finn awoke.

His arm and legs felt like lead, practically limp on the small mattress. He looked around the room he was in, then groaned. All that fighting and effort had been for nothing. He was back in the room with the bright green rug. The green rug room.

It took a few minutes, but he finally managed to move his arms and legs. He was laying on his stomach, so he dragged one leg out from under the covers. He scooted himself very gracefully off the side of the bed, ending up on the floor right next to his short bed. His normally handsomely styled hair was dangling right above his eyes in thin strands.

He wiped the sleep out of his eyes, pulling himself to his feet using the wall for support. Stars danced in his vision, happy that he was so disoriented. He took a second to pull himself together before grouchily walking over to the door and setting his hand on the handle. It didn't budge.

Fine, if you want to play it that way. I've done this before, he grunted with effort as he pushed on the handle, I can do it again.

Since his groggy, weak arms refused to obey, Finn decided to look for something to aid him in his well thought out plan of escape. For some reason, Ash popped into his head. His already weak legs trembled under him. Where was she!? Was she safe!? What if something- he stopped himself.

"No. I refuse to believe she's- that- no. Ash is too good to . . ."

He didn't let himself finish the sentence, distracted by the objects in the room. There was a lack of handles on the kitchenette and bathroom. Why they kept one on his door, he didn't know. Maybe it was fake. Maybe they wanted to taunt him. Or, maybe they genuinely just forgot.

He noticed a small white piece of paper sitting on the counter. He walked over, slowly recovering from the drug inside him, and picked up the paper. It was a note.

Finn,

  I hope you'll understand why you're still here. We're doing everything we can to find Ash. Until then, please, for everyone's sake, stay here. Relax.

      -Jenna and Grean

The note only made him angrier. He crumpled it up and threw it away. Nice try. He'd found new strength. Adrenaline surged through him now, urging him on. It was like it was begging him to open the door now.

He was about to march back over to the exit until an idea popped into his head. Why waste strength and energy breaking the door himself? He searched the kitchenette for a frying pan, but of course, they'd taken that too. He looked around the room for ideas. The sofa and armchair were both too bulky and heavy. There wasn't any frying pan or pot in the kitchenette so . . .

His eyes fell onto the kitchenette and an idea popped into his head. Yes, it was crazy. It wouldn't work otherwise. He worked quickly, knowing Grean or his minions might return soon. He unscrewed one of the small wooden doors, tucking it under his arm for safekeeping. Then he went to the exit, and with some difficulty, managed to unscrew the hinges on that door too.

He caught the heavy door when it fell, setting it carefully on the ground. When he looked up, there was a new trio sitting in the booth. He picked up his cupboard door, running towards the booth. Right before one of them looked in his direction, he slid across the floor, rolling to a stop underneath the counter of the booth.

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"Oh you have got to be kidding me," one of them moaned.

"What? Oh." She must've pointed the open door - or more like absent door - to her friend, who's question was answered with his disappointed oh. Finn smiled hearing them. The third one didn't speak, he just let out a long sigh like, "Greaaaaaaaat."

"What should we do?"

"Is he still in there?"

"I don't know. Can you see him?"

The second guy didn't say anything, so Finn assumed he shook his head. 

"I think we should call Grean."

Finn panicked, his smile gone until one of the guys spoke.

"No, no. Then he'll think we're not ready. This way, we can stop the bad guy and prove ourselves worthy."

"That's a terrible idea," the girl sounded as dissapointed as humanly possible. 

"Okay then, call him. Tell him we're not ready and we need help."

The girl sighed, followed by the smack of a high five.

"How about this, you go check and see if he's there. George and I will stay here, just in case."

"You're just scared."

"No, I'm just smart."

That encouraged a snicker from, who Finn guessed was, George.

Finn had hoped that he'd be able to get at least two of them away from the booth, but since it wasn't gonna be that way, two at the booth would have to do. 

As the third guy grudgingly left the booth, headed to Finn's room, Finn scooted around to the other side of the booth and waited until the third guy was deep in his room. He blew out a quick breath, preparing himself for what he was about to do. 

As quickly as he could, he jumped over the side of the booth, slid across, grabbed the key from the very surprised girl's hand - fortunately for him she'd been holding it at the moment - then ended the booth meeting with a kick to George's head, knocking him out. 

"That's what it feels like!" He didn't mean to say it, the words just came out. Before the girl could react, he yanked her gun off her, shot her, then bolted out of the booth. To his dismay, his room had been changed, so he had to find the exit door again.

He tried a couple of doors, but the third guy had come back from his room.

The guy looked back and forth from the booth and Finn, trying to soak it in. Finn tried to shoot him too, but he was better at close distances. The guy hefted his bulky gun into the air, aimed and shot. Thankfully, he missed, the white-blue web of electricity flew past him and hit the wall, sparks flying everywhere.

Finn checked his own gun, looking for the setting, but the dude was firing again. Finn swung the gun around his shoulder, deciding to save it for later, as he ran at the guy, who kept trying to hit him.

Time was running out. An idea popped into Finn's head. He bolted towards the guy, dropping to his knees at the last minute as he pulled his weapon off him. 

Finn got to his feet, turned, then shot. Just one of the little metal spindles hit the guy, nicking him in the arm. Fin fired again, this time perfectly hitting they guy right in the chest. His whole body violently shook, then he collapsed, his body still jerking around.

"Sorry dude, just blame it on George."

He threw the second gun down, headed for the booth. After finding the exit, again, he unlocked the door and pulled it open as quickly as possible. On the other side, there were three sets of staircases. Based on the recent tricks of the evil designer, Finn guessed only one of them led him to freedom. The other two probably led him somewhere else, like back to the circle room.

He chose at random, hurrying up the concrete stairs. As he was making his way up, his stomach growled, reminding him how empty it actually was. He groaned, wishing it would be empty some other time. A stampede of footsteps thundered down the stairs beside him. He froze, realizing he'd chosen the wrong set of stairs too late.

"Looks like this is the way I'm going then," fortunately for him, the stairs didn't lead back to the circle room. Apparently, there was no wrong set of stairs, just three different entrances to get to the jail place.

His led to a brown door. He carefully opened it. On the other side was a kitchen, empty for the time of day. He couldn't help smiling as he raced through the room, running through whatever doorway looked like an exit. He somehow ended up in the main room with the fancy set of stairs. Students walked about, unaware of the escapee standing right there.