The door creaked on rusted hinges, a sound swallowed quickly by the suffocating silence inside the warehouse. The kind of silence that hung—bloated with dread, and thick with the scent of blood, rust, and burning metal. Jason's boots barely made a sound over the grime-covered concrete, his breaths tight and shallow behind his helmet as his eyes swept across the dimly lit room.

There— In the center of the floor, a twisted tableau of agony.

His partner was bound in a cruel mess of chains and metal wire—limbs bent into a mockery of human posture, shoulder strained high behind their back, leg twisted under them at an angle that made Jason’s gut churn. Their skin was streaked with cuts, bruises bloomed across ribs and neck, and a sick sort of artistry marked every inch. Blood dripped in rhythmic intervals, pattering into a growing pool beneath them.

The bastard had made it a performance.

And then the voice echoed from the shadows, lazy and elated. “You’re early, Red Hood. I was just getting to the good part.”

Jason’s finger tightened on the trigger of his pistol, eyes narrowing behind the visor.

“You touched them,” he growled, voice low and dangerous, “You’re not walking out of here.”

The killer stepped into view, smiling with wide, wild eyes. Blood flecked their apron, the same blood Jason recognized too well.

“I don’t walk out of my masterpieces,” they said, spreading their arms. “I live in them.”

Jason didn’t give him the chance to monologue. The gunshot cracked like a whip—then a second. One to the shoulder. One to the knee. Deliberate. Punishing.

The killer crumpled with a scream, and Jason was already moving—ignoring the shrieks, already dropping beside his partner with shaking hands. His voice softened immediately, helmet clicking off and tossed aside.

“Hey, hey—I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” Blood-streaked gloves cupped their face, thumb brushing at a split lip. “I’m gonna get you out of this, I promise.”

His jaw clenched as he studied the bindings—twisted, barbed in places, purpose-built to maim.

“You held on,” he whispered, voice breaking. “You stayed with me. That’s all I need.”

And the moment the last restraint snapped free, Jason caught them before they collapsed, pulling them into his arms—close, safe, trembling.