The dry click of the lock tumbling open echoed at almost the exact same instant as the sound of the wall shattering.
Caught in a pincer move.
In front of them, the Faceless Nurse stood massively on the threshold, a tall, thin shadow blocking the only exit. She didn't move, just stood there, clutching the teddy bear. Waiting.
Behind them, the wall was torn open. A pale, malformed hand with absurdly long fingers reached through the gap, grasping at the air, searching for prey.
"Open it!" An roared, turning his back on both threats, pouring all his strength into the ventilation grille.
He and Son pulled together. The metal shrieked, bent, but held firm. The rust had practically welded it to the wall.
"It's not coming off!" Son hissed through gritted teeth, the muscles in his arms straining.
"Khue! Hold Thanh!" An commanded.
Khue didn't need to be told. She had already grabbed Thanh's wrist. The businessman wasn't scared. He was smiling, a serene smile, his eyes fixed on the Faceless Nurse as if seeing a long-lost relative.
Khue's heart hammered against her ribs. Focus. Analyze. Don't be a victim.
She glanced at the two threats. The Faceless Nurse (at the door) and the Malformed Hand (at the wall). Two entities. One slow, one fast.
The Nurse... she was waiting. She knew they were trapped. The Hand... it was searching. It grasped blindly. They weren't coordinating. They were two different things.
The Hand was drawn by noise and movement. The Faceless Nurse... she heard their loneliness. Their fear.
The metal bed growled again, preparing for a fourth ram, as if wanting to widen the crack for the Hand.
"Dammit!" Son roared. He let go, stumbling back a step.
"Don't stop!" An yelled.
"Move!"
Son wasn't giving up. He had just escaped the memory of the fire; he wouldn't die here. With a choked yell, Son launched a kick with the heel of his combat boot, aiming straight for the rusted hinge his artist's eye had identified as the weakest point.
CRACK!
It wasn't the sound of metal. It was the sound of the concrete around the hinge shattering. The grille burst free, clattering to the floor and revealing a dark, black hole.
"Get in!" An wasted no time. He grabbed Khue. "You first! Pull Thanh with you!"
Khue didn't hesitate. She threw herself into the hole, dragging Thanh with her. The businessman didn't resist; he followed obediently, still mumbling about the "smell of milk."
"Son! Go!" An roared.
Son dove into the vent right after Khue.
An was the last.
He held up the phone, trying to light their way. 9% battery. The weak light showed only a straight, dark duct.
An crouched, squeezing his head and shoulders into the black hole. He was pulling his right leg in, using his left leg as a brace to push off.
At that exact moment, the Malformed Hand—sensing his final movement—lunged. At the same time, the Faceless Nurse at the door... stepped in.
The Hand seized the last thing left outside.
An felt a sharp, searing pain in his left ankle. It had him.
He fell forward, half in, half out of the vent.
"AN!" Khue's scream echoed from within.
An tried to kick with his free leg, but the Hand was too strong. It was pulling him out.
He desperately raised the phone to see what had caught him.
The phone screen flickered.
9% battery.
1% battery.
Then it went dark.
Absolute darkness fell.
The room went silent. An held his breath.
He couldn't see anything. He could only hear.
He heard Khue screaming his name from inside the duct.
He heard Son cursing, trying to crawl back toward him.
And he heard a new sound.
A sound right outside the vent, in the pitch-black room.
Scraaape... sliiiide...—the sound of heavy, coarse fabric dragging on the stone floor. She was dragging her body.
The Faceless Nurse was no longer at the door.
She was in the room.
And she was coming closer.