End Credits Scene
The Uno cards were slick under my fingertips, warm from the friction of the shuffle, their edges worn soft from years of games just like this one.
I watched Donovan adjust the silver ring on his thumb. He only fidgeted with it when he was calculating something. Right now, he was calculating me.
Sebastian exhaled in exasperation. "You’re taking too long, Mandie," he said, voice low. The kind of tone that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Either deal or admit you’ve lost your nerve."
I arched a brow, letting the deck snap crisp between my palms before I started tossing the cards. "Nerve? Please. I don’t lose nerve, Doc. I just enjoy making you wait."
Johnny scowled. "What is this trash? Did you stack the deck?"
Teddy, ever the picture of composed elegance even with his sleeves rolled up and tie loosened, smirked into his drink. "If she did, it’s because you’re an easy mark." His fingers tapped against the table. Once. Twice. A tell. He was already three steps ahead.
Donovan didn’t say anything. He just watched, gray eyes flickering between the discard pile and my face, deciding if I was bluffing. Smart man. I was bluffing. Just not about the cards.
I dropped a green seven.
Sebastian played next. A yellow seven, placed with the precision of a scalpel.
"Yellow seven? That’s your opening?" I tsked. "A bit conservative for a man who lectures on calculated risk."
His smile was slow, dangerous. "Consistency wins wars, Mandie."
Johnny didn’t let the tension linger. He slammed a +2 onto the pile hard enough to make the table shudder. "Draw, Teddy. Unless you’d rather forfeit now and save us the embarrassment."
Teddy smiled, he was thinking he already won. “Yeah, I do. I’m going to replace you all with—”
The door to the common room banged open, hitting the wall with a violence that silenced the table instantly.
Matt stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, filling the frame like a storm cloud. Roger was right behind him, and for the first time since I’d met him, the easy, golden-boy confidence was gone. He looked pale. Sick.
“Turn it on,” Matt barked. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated in the floorboards. “Now.”
Teddy was on his feet in a second, the playfulness vanishing like smoke. “What is it?”
“Just turn on the damn TV,” Roger said, his voice tight.
Johnny grabbed the remote from the coffee table and hit the power button. The massive screen on the far wall flickered to life.
Static hissed for a second, white noise filling the silence. Then, the image resolved.
My stomach dropped through the floor.
Victor. But not really Victor, he was in his Capital Punishment form.
He wasn’t in the shadows this time. He was standing in front of a camera, perfectly lit, his aluminum body and red eyes. He looked calm. Regal. Like a king addressing his subjects.
Behind him, Brickslayer stood like a red-skinned gargoyle, arms crossed. Conductor leaned against a wall, sparks jumping between his fingers.
“Citizens,” Victor said. His voice was calm, reasonable. The voice of a man who believed he was the hero. “Progress requires order. And order requires… compliance.”
I stood up, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. “What is he doing?”
Victor leaned closer to the camera. His eyes seemed to look right through the screen, right at me.
“To the so-called heroes impeding my work,” he continued. “Consider this your only warning. Disruption has consequences. And I am done tolerating disruption.”
He stepped aside.
Soulflame dragged someone into the frame.
The figure was small, stumbling, a hood pulled over their head. Soulflame gripped their arm tight enough to bruise, smoke curling from his fingers.
Victor reached out and yanked the hood back.
The air left my lungs.
Blonde hair, matted with sweat. Mascara smeared down tear-streaked cheeks. A face I knew better than my own.
“Cassie,” I whispered.
The word came out as a broken sound, barely a breath.
On the screen, Cassie blinked against the harsh lights. She looked terrified, her lip split, a bruise blooming on her jaw. She looked directly into the camera, her eyes wide and pleading.
“Mandie?” she choked out.
Victor’s hand clamped onto her shoulder. She flinched, shrinking away from him, but he held her fast.
“She’s quite the spirited one,” Victor mused, stroking her hair in a way that made bile rise in my throat. “She’s been working very hard to find you, Amanda. So I thought I’d help her.”
He leaned down, whispering something in her ear. Cassie shook her head, tears spilling over.
“Please,” she sobbed. “Please, just let me go.”
“No second warnings,” Victor said to the camera. His face hardened. “If you move against me again… she pays the debt.”
He shoved her. Hard.
Cassie stumbled forward, falling to her knees. She screamed, a high, terrified sound that cut through the Keystone’s silence like a knife.
Then the feed cut to black.
For a second, nobody moved. The scream seemed to hang in the air, echoing in the dead silence.
My cards slipped from my hand. They fluttered to the floor. I didn’t feel anything except the cold, suffocating grip of horror.
“Mandie,” Johnny started, his voice trembling.
My knees gave out.
I didn’t fall to the ground. Teddy was there, catching me before I could fall, his arms wrapping around me like iron bands. He pulled me into his chest, burying his face in my hair.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I’ve got you.”
I grabbed the lapels of his shirt, my fingers digging in so hard my nails threatened to snap. The tears came, racking my body with sobs that felt like they were tearing me apart.
“He has her,” I gasped, pressing my face into his shoulder. “Teddy, he has her.”
“We’ll get her back,” Teddy promised. “I swear to you, Mandie, we will get her back.”
I shook my head against his chest, panic rising like bile. “You don’t understand.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him. My vision was blurred, but I could see the rage in his eyes, the way his jaw was set in stone.
“She’s not like me,” I sobbed, my voice breaking. “She’s not tough. She’s… she’s sweet. She’s innocent. She cries during commercials, Teddy. She’s never been in a fight in her life.”
The image of Cassie with her color-coded planners and her stupid cat memes, her TikTok dances. Cassie who brought me soup when I was sick, flashed in my mind, overlaid with the image of Soulflame’s burning hands and Victor’s dead eyes.
“She won’t survive it, Teddy. She’ll break. She’ll break, and it’s all my fault.”
“Listen to me, this is not your fault. We will get her back.”
“It makes me sick,” I whispered, clutching him tighter. “Thinking about what they’re doing to her. Thinking about their hands on her. All the disgusting and twisted ideas they have in mind for her…”