Chapter 13: A Promise in the Dark

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the courtyard, the golden light stretching through the rusted iron fences. The asylum walls loomed in the distance, a grim reminder that no matter how much fresh air they were allowed, they were still trapped.

Elliott sat on the stone bench, his hands resting loosely in his lap. Gwen sat beside him, watching the dying light of the day with an expression Elliott couldn’t quite decipher.

They had fallen into a comfortable silence.

It had been like that lately—neither of them feeling the need to fill every moment with words. Gwen didn’t push him for conversation, and Elliott appreciated that more than she knew.

But tonight, he wanted to talk.

Or at least, he wanted to tell her something that mattered.

So, after a long pause, he lifted his hands and signed, “One day, I’m getting out of here.”

Gwen glanced at him, raising a brow. “Yeah?”

Elliott nodded, his hands moving again, this time slower, more deliberate. “And when I do, I’ll take you with me.”

Gwen blinked, clearly caught off guard.

Then she let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. “Oh? And how do you plan on pulling that off?”

Elliott turned to her, his blue eyes burning with something she had never seen before.

Determination.

Resolve.

A promise that could not be broken.

“I’ll find a way,” he signed. “I don’t know how yet, but I will. And when I do, you won’t have to work here anymore. You won’t have to spend your days in a place like this.”

Gwen’s smirk faltered slightly.

Elliott kept going.

“You can do whatever you want. Be whoever you want. Pick any job, any place—you won’t have to worry about your family. I’ll take care of it.”

That made Gwen freeze.

She turned fully to him now, her green eyes searching his face as if she were trying to understand what he was saying—what he was offering.

“…Elliott,” she said slowly, “why would you do that?”

Elliott hesitated.

He could have told her the truth—that she was the first person in years to make him feel like he wasn’t completely lost, completely ruined.

That she had kept him sane in a place meant to break him.

But instead, he signed something else.

“Because I want to.”

Gwen exhaled, her shoulders sinking slightly. “You’re insane, you know that?”

Elliott tilted his head, smirking slightly. “We are in an asylum.”

That made Gwen laugh, shaking her head. “You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

Elliott just shrugged.

But then—his expression darkened.

He wasn’t done talking.

His hands moved again, his movements sharp and dangerous.

“But before that—before I leave—there’s something I have to do.”

The air shifted.

Gwen could feel it.

Like the temperature had dropped just slightly, like something heavy had settled between them.

“…What?” she asked cautiously.

Elliott’s fingers twitched before he finally signed it.

“I have to get revenge.”

Gwen’s breath caught.

She should have expected it.

She knew—knew—that whatever Elliott had been through, whatever had landed him in this place, had left scars deeper than anything she could see.

And yet, hearing him say it—seeing him sign it—made something inside her tighten.

This wasn’t just some passing thought.

It was a promise.

A promise of violence.

A promise that could not be undone.

She didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know if she should ask who he was after—though, deep down, she already had a feeling she knew.

So instead, she swallowed, forcing her voice to stay even. “And after that?”

Elliott’s eyes softened.

He turned to her, signing slower this time. “After that, we leave. We start over.”

Gwen inhaled sharply.

She wasn’t sure if she believed in fairytale endings.

But as she looked at Elliott—at the raw, unwavering conviction in his expression—she almost wanted to.

---

The sky had turned a deeper shade of gray, the last traces of daylight fading beyond the asylum walls. A quiet chill settled in the air, whispering through the courtyard like a ghost passing through unseen cracks.

Gwen stretched her arms over her head before letting them fall to her sides. “Alright, time to get you back before they start thinking I let you escape,” she teased, giving Elliott a small smirk.

Elliott didn’t respond.

Not with his hands. Not with an expression.

He just stood there, watching her with those deep blue eyes—like he was memorizing her, like he was locking this moment away in his mind.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

Gwen turned and started walking, leading the way back inside.

Elliott followed.

But the moment they stepped through the asylum doors, everything changed.

The warmth of the courtyard was gone, replaced by the heavy, suffocating presence of watchful eyes.

The other nurses were standing along the hallway, their expressions unreadable, their gazes flickering toward him with that same suspicion they always carried.

They were waiting.

Waiting for him to break.

Waiting for him to slip up, to show them something wrong about himself.

He had seen those looks before.

The way their eyes trailed him, analyzing every inch of his movements, searching for something—anything—that would prove he belonged here.

Elliott kept his face blank, his steps measured, his posture perfectly controlled.

He didn’t give them anything.

Not a twitch. Not a glance. Not a single moment where they could say, “Ah. There it is.” That’s why he’s here.

He followed Gwen silently.

Letting her be the only voice between them.

Letting her presence shield him from the weight of those stares.

It wasn’t until they reached his cell that the air loosened—just slightly.