The basement descended into chaos.
Screams. The stench of blood. The sound of chains scraping against concrete.
Stevanie was no longer human.
Her eyes had lost all light, her skin pale as wax, and her breath came in violent bursts. The knife in her trembling hand glimmered under the faint bulb, catching flashes of red that weren't hers.
She moved like something possessed—her body jerking, her head twitching as if unseen hands were pulling her strings.
The air reeked of metal and madness.
Oska threw himself in front of Mrs. Bao and the five survivors, shielding them with his body.
"Stay behind me!" he shouted, voice cracking from fear and adrenaline.
"W-what do we do, sir?" Mrs. Bao's voice trembled.
Oska's mind went blank. There was no plan, no exit, no hope. The stairs behind them were blocked, and Stevanie's knife was inching closer with every uneven step.
He clenched his fists.
And then, something inside him shifted.
He realized the only way out… wasn't through escape.
It was through her.
He stood tall, chest heaving, and took a step forward.
"Stevanie!" he shouted, his eyes blazing. "Do you love me?"
For a moment, she froze. Her head tilted slightly, like an animal confused by sound.
Then her lips twisted into a trembling smile. "Why are you asking that now? You'll leave me anyway in the end."
"Answer me," Oska said firmly, his voice cutting through the heavy air. "I want you to listen—to your deepest heart. To that voice buried under everything else. Tell me, Stevanie… do you love me?"
Her steps faltered.
The knife wavered.
Something flickered behind her lifeless eyes—a glint of pain, recognition, humanity.
She clutched her head, groaning, her left hand trying desperately to push down the right, which held the blade.
"Oska…" her voice cracked, trembling. "My head—it's splitting open. They're screaming, all of them, so loud! Please, go! While I still have control—get everyone out of here! Please! I don't know how long I can fight it!"
Oska shook his head. "No! You're not running from this, and neither am I. Answer me, Stevanie! Do you love me or not?!"
She gasped, her eyes wide and wet. "Why? What's the point of that question now?"
"Because your answer, will decide whether I stay with you… or leave you forever. I need the truth."
Tears streamed down her face. "You're cruel," she whispered. "To ask me that… when I'm like this."
"Answer me!" Oska roared.
"I told you—I don't know!" she screamed. "Please, I hope you understand. I've never been in love, Oska! Not once in my life! With my mind broken like this, how could I ever love anyone? Even my parents cast me out. But one thing I do know—" her voice cracked, trembling between sobs and shrieks— "I never wanted to hurt you! When I'm with you… I can be myself!"
Oska's face twisted in pain. He didn't know if it was anger or heartbreak that burned in his chest.
He stepped forward.
"Don't—!" Stevanie shrieked, stumbling back, terrified. "Don't come near me! I swear—I'll hurt you! Please, Oska, don't!"
She struggled against herself, both hands fighting over the knife as if her own body were her enemy. But Oska kept walking, his bloodied arm hanging limp, his eyes locked on hers.
"Oska, please!" she cried, retreating until her back hit the wall. "I can't control it anymore—please, don't make me—!"
Her arm jerked. The knife flashed.
A thin line of blood cut across Oska's hand.
"Oh God—no!" Stevanie screamed, horrified. "I told you not to come close to me!"
Oska didn't stop. He reached for her wrist, gripping it hard despite the pain.
Stevanie pleaded, "Oska, I can't take it anymore. Please, take the knife and kill me. That's the only way."
With a desperate cry, Oska wrested the knife from her hand. His arm trembled as he raised it high, the blade glinting above her head.
Stevanie fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. She closed her eyes ready to face death.
"Do it," she whispered. "Please. If this is what it takes to set me free… do it."