Unwrapped

Chapter 7: The Last Door

“Go, go, go!” Thorne urged, his voice sharp with urgency. The walls of the mansion seemed to groan and crack as the foundations buckled beneath our feet. Lirael hesitated, a deep, conflicted look on her face, her feet rooted to the spot as if something invisible held her back. I grabbed her hand firmly, tugging her toward the door, urging us both forward.

“Elliot—” Lirael began, but I cut her off before she could finish.

“She’s gone, Lirael. You can’t save her,” I said, my tone more forceful than I intended, but it was necessary. She needed to focus, not drown in hopelessness. The building was collapsing, and time was running out.

The hallway before us was a jagged mess of destruction, a yawning chasm in the centre of the floor, pulling everything toward it—paintings, rugs, lanterns—all being sucked into the abyss. I could feel the tension rising in the air, thick with the promise of something darker.

Caius, usually the last to speak, stiffened. His eyes locked on the hole, as if a sudden realisation hit him. “I’ll go in,” he announced, his voice firm.

“What!?” we all yelled in disbelief, Lirael’s voice high-pitched with panic.

“What are you talking about?” Lirael shrieked above the rising wind that howled through the mansion.

“This thing requires a sacrifice,” Caius said, his voice steady, though his eyes held a depth of understanding. “Something that will leave a deep mark, just like the one Elliot’s father received.”

We all turned to follow his gaze. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the darkened corridor, was a man with grey eyes that matched Elliot’s. The sight sent a shiver down my spine.

“The Secret Santa...” Selene trailed off, her voice trembling.

“Is Elliot’s father,” Lirael finished grimly, her expression darkening.

I snapped my head back to Caius. “You’re not going in there, are you? Are you out of your mind?” I shouted, panic rising in my chest. But Caius merely shook his head, as though my words meant nothing.

“I know what I’m doing. You have to trust me on this,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute.

Thorne stepped forward, a hand outstretched, his face etched with worry. “There must be some other way.”

Caius smiled faintly, though it was more of a bittersweet grin. “Glad to have you talking to me again, dude. Now I have no regrets.”

“Caius,” Thorne warned, his voice low, but Caius ignored him, letting his gaze sweep over the group.

“Make it out alive, and live a life worth living, will you?” he said, his voice softening. “At least I’ll get to meet Elliot on the other side. Not bragging, just... doing what needs to be done.”

With that, he leaped into the gaping hole, his form swallowed by the darkness. The rest of us screamed, me and Thorne reaching out at the same time, but we were too late. The hole began to close rapidly, leaving us stunned and motionless. The sound of its closure was deafening.

Selene and Lirael clung to each other, silent tears streaming down their faces. Thorne stood frozen, cursing under his breath, his hands clenched into fists. I, on the other hand, could only stare at the ground, feeling a deep, overwhelming emptiness.

There was no time to waste.

I grabbed Thorne’s hand, pulling him along as I nodded for him to take Selene’s hand. She understood instantly, and together, they pulled Lirael close. The four of us sprinted down the stairs, dodging falling debris and trying to keep our balance as the house crumbled behind us. The air was thick with dust and the stench of destruction.

A sharp pain flared at the side of my head as a rod from the ceiling scraped against my skin, drawing blood, but I ignored it, focusing only on getting us out of there. The world around us was collapsing, each second feeling like it could be our last.

Finally, we burst through the front door and into the street, gasping for air. We didn’t stop running until we were a good distance away from the wreckage. As I turned back to look, I saw the entire foundation of the mansion crumble to dust. Every last wall was reduced to rubble. There was no trace left of the place that had haunted our memories.

The air was thick with dust, our clothes covered in dirt, and the silence that followed was deafening. Lirael had a scratch on her cheek, Thorne was cradling his arm again, and Selene’s palm was bloody from where she had tried to shield herself from falling debris.

“Let’s get out of here,” I muttered, my voice hoarse, the exhaustion finally catching up to me. We walked, our steps heavy, each of us lost in our thoughts.

The weeks that followed were a blur of guilt, anger, and confusion. My family wouldn’t stop yelling at me for disappearing on Christmas Day. They didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. After I was finally allowed to leave the house again, I found myself standing in front of what should have been the mansion. But in its place was a grand cathedral, towering and silent.

I sighed and pulled my hood further down to cover my face. I stood there for a moment, just staring at the empty space. It was like the mansion had never existed, as if everything that had happened was a dream.

“Glad to see I’m not the only one here today,” a familiar voice broke through my thoughts.

I turned, surprised to see Lirael standing a few paces away, a soft smile on her face, her arms folded over her chest. She was dressed in a leather jacket and ripped jeans, her hair flowing freely around her shoulders. She looked... different, but in a good way.

I smiled back, walking towards her. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I was trying to gaslight myself into thinking I was going crazy and that every single one of you was a part of my imagination.”

“I can assure you, I’m very real,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Aw, that’s a shame,” I replied with a grin.

“Hey!” she laughed, and so did I.

“Should we take a stroll down the street?” she asked, gesturing ahead.

I nodded. “Sure.”

We walked in silence for a while, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

“From your words, I’m guessing that you haven’t had any contact with Thorne or Selene?” she asked after a few minutes, her voice quieter.

I shook my head. “Me neither.”

She sighed, her breath visible in the cold air. “It was the messiest Christmas I’ve ever had. I wonder how long I was on Santa’s naughty list before he couldn’t bear it any longer.”

I chuckled softly. “Well, if it’s any comfort, you weren’t alone in there.”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “Mr Dark and Mysterious, it’s not a comfort to find out how my primary best friend died.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Dark and mysterious? Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, glancing at me for a split second. “You’re mysterious... and dark.”

I laughed, throwing my head back. “I suppose you’re fierce and red then?”

She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

“I never know when you’re going to explode from how much you keep things to yourself.”

“Speak for yourself!” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. I grinned mischievously.

“I want to visit Caius’ family,” she said suddenly, her tone serious.

I inhaled deeply, considering it. “We could,” I said slowly. “But we don’t have any explanation for what happened that day. His family might be putting up missing posters for all we know, since we couldn’t even bring his body back. There’s no actual proof that he’s dead. And the mansion’s gone.”

She frowned, but she knew I was speaking the truth.

“Well, I’ve decided to be more religious and keep my promise to not only Elliot, but also to Caius,” she said, her voice filled with determination.

I smiled softly. “Me too.”

We reached the Waterloo Bridge, the wind whipping across the River Thames.

“Want to stop here for a while?” I asked, gesturing to the railing. She nodded eagerly, and we both leaned against it, gazing out at the river, the city spread out before us. The lights of London twinkled in the distance, but there was a strange stillness in the air, a sense of peace that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Lirael cleared her throat. “So, what... are you doing for New Year’s Eve?”

I shrugged. “Play on my PS5 and probably go out with my family if they force me to. You?”

She shrugged as well. “Pretty much the same thing. My family likes to go out to eat, then we wait for the fireworks. But it’s so cold, I hate it.”

I chuckled. “Understandable.”

I turned to face her, twirling the necklace I had received from the Secret Santa—the one I now knew was from Elliot’s father—between my fingers. “Lirael?” My heart throbbed painfully, but this time, I didn’t mind it.

“Yeah?” she turned to face me, her eyes meeting mine.

“You don’t have a boyfriend, do you? Because I’d probably be really mad if you did,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual, though the words were heavier than I meant them to be.

She looked taken aback. “What, why?”

“Just say yes or no,” I pressed.

She smirked. “I don’t have one, actually.”

I couldn’t help but feel a surge of relief, though I didn’t let it show. “I see.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, just curious,” I replied, looking away to hide the smile tugging at my lips.

“Just curious?” she echoed, and I nodded, feeling the warmth in my chest.

“Stop messing with me,” she hit my arm in a playful manner.

“I’m not!” I laughed, the sound light and free. We started walking again, our hands brushing as we made our way towards Covent Garden, both of us laughing, not a care in the world.

That night, I had a vivid dream. In it, I saw the pasts of my friends—the Scapegoat, the Instigator, the Enabler, the Protector, and the Outsider. I saw the pain, the fear, the brokenness that shaped them into who they were. I saw Lirael’s burden of always being blamed for things she didn’t do, Caius’ anger at a world that never seemed to understand him, Selene’s quiet struggle to keep everything together, Thorne’s deep desire to protect everyone, and my own feelings of never truly belonging.

I understood then why we acted the way we did. And I knew that, no matter what, we would always carry those scars with us. But we had each other. And that, in the end, was all that mattered.