Ch.55: The Hunt Begins

I climb the stairs.

The marble treads are cool against my bare, bleeding feet. The silence of the house has returned, heavy and suffocating now that the plasma cutter has stopped screaming. The police are inside, securing the ground floor, checking the hostages.

But they won't find Aris.

He retreated to the upper levels. The labyrinth he designed.

I reach the second-floor landing. The hallway stretches out before me, a long tunnel of shadows and closed doors. The air is still hazy with smoke and gas, but the ventilation is clearing it slowly.

I raise the rifle. It feels heavy, alien in my hands. I’ve never fired a gun before today, but my body remembers the recoil from the foyer. It remembers the power.

"Aris," I call out.

My voice is hoarse, broken. It echoes off the walls.

"Come out. It's over."

Silence answers me.

I move forward. I check the first door. The guest bedroom where Petrova was hiding.

Empty. Just bloodstains on the carpet and a broken mirror.

I check the library. Empty.

He’s herding me. He’s leading me somewhere.

I reach the end of the hall. The door to his private study.

It’s open.

I step inside.

The room is dark, lit only by the glow of multiple computer monitors on his massive oak desk. The walls are lined with bookshelves, filled not with literature, but with medical journals and anatomy texts.

Aris is not there.

But he left a message.

On the main screen, a countdown timer is ticking.

**09:59.**

**09:58.**

I walk to the desk. I look at the label above the timer.

**PROTOCOL OMEGA: STERILIZATION SEQUENCE INITIATED.**

Sterilization.

He’s burning it down.

Not just the files. Not just the evidence.

The lab. The chemicals. The bodies.

He’s rigged the oxygen tanks in the sub-basement. He’s set the pressure valves to critical.

In ten minutes, the gas main will rupture. The spark from the overloaded generator will ignite it.

The entire house will become a crater.

"Do you like it?"

The voice comes from the shadows in the corner.

I spin around, raising the rifle.

Aris steps out from behind a bookshelf. He is holding a remote detonator in one hand and a scalpel in the other. He has discarded his jacket. His shirt is stained with soot and blood.

He looks calm. Almost peaceful.

"It's the only way, Elena," he says. "We can't let them see the work. We can't let them misunderstand the genius."

"You're not a genius," I say, keeping the gun trained on his chest. "You're a butcher."

"I am an artist," he corrects. "And every artist knows when a piece is finished."

He taps the remote.

"I can speed it up, you know. I can blow the tanks right now."

"You'll die too," I say.

"Better to burn than to rot in a cell," he shrugs. "Besides... I want to die with my creation."

He looks at me. At my ruined face.

"You really are beautiful like this," he whispers. "Raw. Honest. No masks."

He takes a step toward me.

"Don't," I warn. I tighten my finger on the trigger.

"You won't shoot," he says, smiling. "You want answers. You want to know *why*."

"I know why," I say. "Greed. Ego. Madness."

"Love," he interrupts. "It was always love, Elena. I loved you so much I wanted to make you perfect. I wanted to make you eternal."

He takes another step.

"And Isabella... she was just a canvas. A way to keep you alive forever."

He is five feet away.

"Stay back!" I scream.

He lunges.

He doesn't attack me. He attacks the gun.

He knocks the barrel aside with his forearm. The rifle fires, *BANG*, the bullet shattering the window behind him.

He grabs the barrel. He yanks it.

I stumble. I am weak, exhausted. He is fueled by mania.

He rips the gun from my hands. He throws it across the room.

He tackles me.

We crash to the floor. He lands on top of me, pinning my arms with his knees.

He raises the scalpel.

"Together," he whispers. "We go together."

I thrash. I buck my hips. I try to throw him off.

But he is heavy.

He brings the blade down.

I twist my head. The scalpel slices into the carpet next to my ear.

I bring my knee up. I slam it into his groin.

He grunts. His grip loosens.

I shove him. I roll out from under him.

I scramble to my feet. I grab a heavy bronze bust of Hippocrates from the desk.

Aris is getting up. He is laughing.

"Ten minutes, Elena!" he shouts, pointing at the screen.

**08:45.**

"You can't stop it! The overrides are locked out! The only way to stop the countdown is a retinal scan from a dead man!"

He charges me again.

I swing the bust.

It connects with his shoulder. He staggers back, his arm hanging limp.

He drops the scalpel.

But he doesn't stop. He reaches into his pocket.

He pulls out a lighter.

He flicks it. The flame flares up.

He looks at the drapes.

"If the gas doesn't get us," he smiles, "the fire will."

He throws the lighter at the curtains.

They catch instantly. The heavy fabric goes up in a *whoosh* of orange flame.

The fire spreads fast. It licks the ceiling. The smoke alarms start blaring again, adding to the cacophony.

"Burn with me, Elena!" Aris screams.

He opens his arms. He wants me to embrace him. He wants us to be a funeral pyre.

I look at the timer.

**08:15.**

I look at the fire.

I look at Aris.

I am not going to burn. Not today.

I turn and run.

I run out of the study. I run down the hall.

"Where are you going?" Aris yells, chasing me. "There's no way out! The shutters are sealed!"

I know.

But I'm not going to the exit.

I'm going to the only place in the house designed to survive an explosion.

The panic room.

I sprint. My lungs burn. The smoke is getting thicker.

I reach the panic room door. It’s open. Aris left it open when he came out to hunt me.

I dive inside.

Aris is right behind me. He grabs my ankle just as I cross the threshold.

He drags me back.

"No!" he screams. "You don't get to live! Not without me!"

I kick him. I claw at the floor.

He pulls me into the hallway. The fire is spreading here too. The heat is intense.

He climbs on top of me again. He wraps his hands around my throat.

"Die!" he shrieks. "Die! Die! Die!"

My vision dims. The edges of the world turn black.

I reach out. My hand searches the floor.

My fingers brush something metal.

The scalpel. The one he dropped.

I grab it.

I don't think. I don't aim.

I just swing.

I drive the blade into his side.

He gasps. His grip loosens.

I pull the blade out. I stab him again. And again.

He rolls off me. He clutches his side, blood pouring through his fingers.

I scramble backward, into the panic room.

I hit the button on the wall.

The heavy steel door begins to slide shut.

Aris looks up. He sees the door closing.

He tries to crawl toward it.

"Elena!" he begs. "Don't! Please!"

I watch him through the narrowing gap.

Behind him, the hallway is an inferno. The countdown on his watch is ticking.

**10 minutes to incineration.**

"Goodbye, Aris," I whisper.

The door slams shut. The locks engage.

I am safe.

But outside, the clock is ticking down to zero.