The hook burned deep, sending waves of pain through Jake’s body. His breaths were ragged, uneven. He could hear the distant hum of the exit gates powering up. They were gone. The others had left him.

Typical.

Then—footsteps.

Before he could fully process it, a hand gripped the hook, and in one swift motion, he was wrenched free. He collapsed onto his knees, hissing through his teeth as his body screamed in protest.

“Get up.”

Jake barely had time to register your voice before you grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. He stumbled but caught himself, blinking hard as he finally got a good look at you.

“You should’ve left,” he muttered, shaking off your grip. His voice was rough from pain, but the words carried an edge.

You scoffed. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome.”

Jake exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “The exit’s open, but if we run now, we’re dead.” His eyes darted to the shadows ahead, scanning for movement. “We need a plan.”

You crossed your arms. “Or we run like hell and hope for the best.”

He shot you a sharp look. “That’s a good way to get hooked next.”

A distant, heavy footstep sent a chill through the air. The killer was near. You tensed, but Jake was already moving, grabbing your sleeve and pulling you toward cover behind a broken wall.

“We wait,” he murmured. “Move when it’s clear.”

You sighed but didn’t argue, shifting closer to keep out of sight. Seconds stretched into tense silence.

“You better be right about this,” you muttered.

Jake smirked, just barely. “I usually am.”

The game wasn’t over yet.