The air inside Colony House was thick with tension.
Kevin lay bloodied and unconscious on the floor, a few teeth scattered nearby.
Donna stood in the doorway, her expression caught between anger and confusion.
Monte sat on the edge of the bed, shirt off, a blood-soaked rag pressed to his side.
His face was calm, but his eyes burned with something dark. The adrenaline coursing through him hadn't faded yet.
Across the room, Julie lay unconscious, her chest rising and falling steadily as Fatima knelt beside her.
Ellis tore through the first-aid kit while Boyd knelt beside Kevin, checking for a pulse. "He's alive," Boyd muttered, though there wasn't much relief in his voice.
Monte glanced down at his wound and sighed. "Missed anything vital," he said flatly. "Lucky bastard didn't know where to stab."
He grunted, grabbing a needle and thread. "Guess I'll sew myself up."
Boyd put a hand on his shoulder. "Let Ellis handle it."
Monte gave him a look but didn't argue. He sat still while Ellis knelt behind him with the needle.
When the metal pierced his skin, Monte barely reacted... just the slightest twitch of his jaw.
Donna finally broke the silence. "What the hell happened? How did you even know something was going on up here?"
Monte didn't look up. "Heard a scream."
Boyd frowned. "From downstairs?"
Monte shrugged, expression unreadable. "I've got good ears."
The answer didn't satisfy anyone, but Boyd let it go.
Fatima brushed Julie's hair out of her face. "She's okay," she said softly. "Probably just hit her head when he grabbed her."
Monte's jaw tightened. "Lucky it wasn't worse."
Ellis tied off the last stitch, dabbing at the blood. "That should hold," he said quietly.
Monte checked it with a glance and nodded. "Not bad, Picasso."
Ellis smirked weakly. "Thanks, I've had practice on cloth."
Fatima's eyes flicked up then lingered on Monte's chest. "What's that tattoo?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Monte followed her gaze to the black King of Clubs tattoo etched over his heart.
Donna crossed her arms. "Yeah. What's that about?"
Monte sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Probably shouldn't say."
Boyd's tone softened. "We're past secrets, Monte."
Monte hesitated, then looked at each of them in turn. His voice came low and steady.
"You get this tattoo when you beat a man to death for the first time."
The room went still.
Fatima's eyes widened. "What?"
Monte's tone didn't change. "Each little club in the card represents one. There's… a lot of them."
Boyd stepped closer and saw what he meant. The lines forming the card, in fact, weren't solid ink.
But, instead were hundreds of tiny club symbols, each meticulously drawn into his skin.
Fatima whispered, "You've killed that many people?"
Monte looked up at her, his expression cold but not cruel. "Let's just say I worked in a profession where violence wasn't optional."
Donna exhaled sharply. "Jesus Christ."
Monte finally slipped his shirt back on, wincing as the fabric brushed the fresh stitches. "That life's behind me. I didn't come here to hurt people."
Boyd crossed his arms. "Seems like someone didn't get the memo."
Monte glanced down at Kevin's limp body. "He came after her. You saw the knife, Boyd. That wasn't fear, that was intent."
Donna's brow furrowed. "Are you saying he's the one who opened the door last night?"
Monte nodded once. "I'd bet on it."
Boyd's voice was grim. "He's the only one who makes sense. Fits the distance, the timing… and he's been off lately."
Donna muttered, "I noticed too."
Julie stirred, groaning softly as Fatima helped her sit up. "What… what happened?"
Monte immediately moved to her side, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "You're safe now. He can't hurt you."
Julie's eyes darted toward Kevin. "He... he was going to kill me."
Boyd said quietly, "We know."
Her eyes lifted to Monte's, watery and dazed. "You saved me."
Monte managed a faint smile. "Of course I did."
Donna stepped forward, taking command of the moment. "Enough. Kevin's not leaving this house until we know the truth."
Boyd nodded. "Fine."
Monte shook his head, voice low and cold. "After what he did? He's not staying here."
Donna saw the glint in Monte's eye and decided not to argue.
She just stepped aside and watched as Monte and Boyd grabbed Kevin by the arms and dragged him toward the door with quiet, deadly control.
They got Kevin down the stairs and the heavy front door slammed behind them.
The residents stood frozen, the air thick with shock and unease.
Fatima turned to Julie, who was trembling slightly. "You okay?"
Julie nodded faintly, her eyes still locked on the door. "Monte saved me," she whispered.
Half in awe, half in fear. She had overheard his explanation of the king of hearts tattoo.
...
The mood in Colony House was heavy... the kind of silence that pressed on everyone's chest.
Word had spread fast that Kevin had attacked Julie. That he was also suspected of opening the infirmary doors, of letting the creatures in.
Two people were dead, and one of their own had lost his mind.
The air was thick with disbelief, fear, and quiet anger.
Downstairs, Donna and Ellis moved through the chaos, trying to keep things from spiraling further.
"Everyone, calm down," Donna ordered, her tone steady but exhausted. "We'll figure this out. For now, stay inside and stick together."
Ellis added, "No wandering tonight. Just… try to rest, alright?"
But the faces around them were pale, uneasy. Even after all they'd been through, this was different.
This was one of their own turning into something dangerous.
Upstairs, the house was quieter. Julie sat on the edge of the bed in Ellis and Fatima's room, wrapped in a soft blanket.
Her breathing was uneven. the shock still sitting heavy in her chest.
Across from her, Fatima sat cross-legged, speaking softly.
"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," she said gently. "Just breathe, okay? You're safe now."
Julie nodded faintly, staring down at her hands. "He looked normal, you know? Kevin. I saw him in the kitchen a few days ago. He was smiling and laughing. He even said good morning."
Fatima's expression softened. "That's what this place does to people. Some break quietly… others, all at once."
Julie's voice trembled. "He was going to kill me."
Fatima reached over, taking her hand. "And he didn't. Monte got to you in time."
Julie gave a small, shaky smile. "He always shows up when it matters."
Fatima smiled back. "Yeah… he does."
Suddenly, there was a creak at the doorway.
They both turned.
Victor stood there awkwardly, half-hidden behind the doorframe. His eyes darted between them before settling on Julie.
Fatima smiled softly. "Do you need something, Victor?"
He hesitated, stepping inside. In his hands was a can of peaches, the label faded and dented. He walked up slowly and held it out to Julie.
"I'm glad you're okay," he said in a quiet, sincere voice.
Julie blinked in surprise, taking the can gently from his hands. "Thank you, Victor."
He nodded, gave her a small, smile... and then turned and slipped out of the room without another word.
Julie looked down at the can, confused but touched. "…Peaches?" she asked softly.
Fatima chuckled under her breath. "Those are his favorite. He doesn't share them with anyone."
Julie turned the can in her hands. "Does it mean something?"
Fatima smiled warmly. "Not really. It's just his way of saying he cares."
Julie smiled faintly. "That's actually kind of sweet. Ethan does things like that sometimes."
Fatima nodded. "That's a good way to think of Victor. He's like a boy trapped in a man's body."
Julie tilted her head. "Why?"
Fatima sighed, her voice quieting. "He's been here since he was about Ethan's age. For a long time, he was the only person in this place. He's been here almost forty years."
Julie's eyes widened. "Forty years? How is he even alive?"
Fatima looked toward the window, her tone soft and distant. "No one really knows. He doesn't talk about the past. Whatever happened to the people before us… it scarred him. Remembering... hurts too much."
Julie sat there quietly, the can of peaches still in her lap.
For the first time since everything happened, her tears stopped.
Maybe because in a place where everyone was breaking, even a small act of kindness mattered more than anyone could understand.
...
The sound of the cell door slamming echoed through the small station.
Kevin sat slumped on the narrow cot inside, his wrists bound, his eyes empty and distant.
The late evening light slipped through the barred window, striping the floor in gold and shadow.
Boyd locked the bolt and pocketed the key, staring at Kevin through the bars for a moment.
Then he turned toward Monte, who leaned against the desk, still in his blood-stained shirt, his side freshly bandaged.
For a long beat, neither man said anything.
Finally, Boyd exhaled heavily. "You ever see someone's mind just… break?"
Monte shrugged. "I've seen a lot of people lose it, but this…" He tilted his head, studying Kevin. "This is something else."
Boyd crossed his arms. "He opened those doors, Monte. Got two people killed. Nearly killed Julie. But why? None of it makes sense."
Monte said flatly, "Maybe he didn't need a reason."
Boyd gave him a look.
Monte sighed. "Some people... when the world gets too heavy, they stop thinking straight. Maybe the pressure finally cracked him."
Boyd shook his head slowly. "Pressure doesn't make you murder your own people. He knew what those things would do once the doors opened."
Monte's tone hardened. "Maybe he didn't believe in them. Or maybe he just didn't care."
Boyd looked over his shoulder at the cell again. Kevin sat perfectly still, staring at the floor, his lips moving faintly.
Monte frowned. "You hear that?"
Boyd stepped closer. "Kevin. You got something to say?"
No answer. Kevin's whispering continued, too soft to make out.
Monte muttered, "He's talking to himself."
Boyd's jaw flexed. "Or rehearsing a lie."
Monte pushed away from the desk and walked up to the bars, crouching slightly to meet Kevin's eye level.
His voice was calm, measured... the tone of someone who'd spent a lifetime staring down unstable men.
"Kevin," Monte said, "look at me."
For a moment, nothing. Then Kevin's eyes flickered up, unfocused but aware.
Monte kept his voice steady. "You let those doors open. Why?"
Kevin blinked slowly, his mouth trembling. "I didn't want to," he murmured.
Boyd stepped closer. "Then why'd you do it?"
Kevin swallowed hard. "They told me… they'd leave me alone if I helped."
Monte's brow furrowed. "Who told you that?"
Kevin looked away. "She did."
Boyd frowned. "She? Who the hell is 'she'?"
Kevin didn't answer. He just pressed the heels of his hands against his temples, rocking slightly.
Monte's voice dropped. "Was she from town? Someone here?"
Kevin's voice cracked. "She was… beautiful." He laughed quietly, a broken, joyless sound. "She said she loved me."
Boyd muttered, "Jesus Christ…"
Monte straightened. "So, what... some woman told you to open the doors and kill me?"
Kevin's gaze snapped up, wild and glassy. "You don't understand. She promised... she said it would make everything right again."
Monte took a small step back, his hand resting instinctively near his belt. Not on his gun, but close.
Boyd's voice was low, controlled. "Kevin, what did you think was going to happen?"
Kevin's breathing quickened. "She said it was the only way. That if I helped her, she'd keep me safe. That they wouldn't hurt me."
Monte's expression darkened. "And you believed her?"
Kevin's eyes filled with tears. "I didn't have a choice."
Boyd turned away, pacing once, muttering under his breath, "There's always a choice."
Monte glanced toward him. "You think he's lying?"
Boyd paused, looking back at Kevin through the bars. "I think he's broken. But lying? No. Not about this."
Monte rubbed a hand down his face. "So what, we're calling this... insanity? A nervous breakdown?"
Boyd sighed. "Until Kristi wakes up and tells us otherwise, yeah. That's all we've got."
Monte leaned back against the desk, his tone colder now. "Doesn't change the fact he's got blood on his hands."
Boyd didn't disagree. "We'll question him again in the morning. Maybe he'll make more sense by then."
Monte's eyes lingered on Kevin. The twitch in his jaw, the way he kept mumbling to someone who wasn't there.
He'd seen that look before, in interrogation rooms and in prison cells.
It wasn't guilt. It was something else... obsession, fear, maybe both.
"Whatever he's seeing," Monte muttered, "I don't think it's gone yet."
Boyd looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"
Monte met his gaze. "I mean he's not scared of what he did. He's scared of what happens if he doesn't finish it."
The two men stood in tense silence.
From the cell came a faint sound of Kevin whispering again, his voice barely audible.
This time, the word was clearer. "Soon."
Monte and Boyd exchanged a look.
Boyd turned off the lights to the holding area and locked the door behind them.
"Get some rest," he muttered. "We're gonna need it."
Monte nodded once, his eyes still fixed on the dark outline of Kevin in the cell.
As they left the room, Kevin's voice whispered again... softer, but more certain.
"She's coming."