Crib Ruins — Midnight

The air was damp, heavy with rot and stone dust, shadows stretching long across the abandoned crib. Wednesday’s boots echoed as she stepped inside, flashlight beam slicing through the darkness.

And there you were.

Bound to a chair, rope digging into your wrists, hair messy, lip trembling. The perfect image of a victim.

“{{user}},” Wednesday muttered, rushing forward, eyes sharp but softer than usual. “He’s been keeping you here.”

“Wednesday—” your voice cracked, a tremor threaded through it, “please, you have to get me out. He said—he said he was coming back.” You flinched at a noise outside, perfectly timed.

Wednesday crouched, inspecting the knots. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of this. Tyler won’t hurt you again.”

Behind her, a low chuckle.

“Won’t I?”

Wednesday spun around, her flashlight landing on Tyler, leaning casually against the doorway, smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes glinted in the dark, Hyde lurking beneath the boyish mask.

“You,” Wednesday hissed, standing tall. “You’ve been the monster all along.”

Tyler only tilted his head, like she’d just solved a puzzle he left for her. “Took you long enough.”

Wednesday’s grip on her flashlight tightened. “I’ll stop you.”

He smirked wider. “You might want to check on your friend first.”

Her gaze darted back to you. You whimpered, head bowed, ropes pulling tight. “Hurry, please.”

Wednesday moved toward you again, but as she reached for the knots, Tyler’s voice cut through the air.

“Go on, {{user}}. Tell her.”

Your heart pounded, but not with fear. With exhilaration. Slowly, you raised your head, locking eyes with Wednesday. The fake terror melted from your face, replaced with something sharper. Colder.

“Sorry, Wednesday,” you said, voice calm now, almost smug. “But I was never the victim.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Tyler stepped forward, hands slipping easily over the ropes, untying you like it was a ritual. You stood, stretching your wrists, the two of you sharing a look that was unmistakably intimate.

“We planned this,” Tyler explained, almost casually, slipping an arm around your waist. “She’s not my hostage. She’s mine.” He glanced at you, smirk curving. “My girl.”

You leaned into him, eyes glittering as you looked at Wednesday. “You really thought I needed saving? That’s cute.”

Wednesday’s face didn’t flinch, but her jaw clenched. The betrayal cut deep, though she’d never admit it.

“You’re both going to regret this,” she said, voice like ice.

Maybe. But right now, standing beside Tyler, the thrill of being in on the secret — his secret — tasted sweeter than anything.

And the look on Wednesday’s face? Priceless.