What are friends for

Ferrara was a puzzle, a web of contradictions that kept me on edge. At times, she could be soft and almost loving, her touch gentle as she whispered sweet nothings into my ear. But other times, she was a storm, a tempest of emotions that would explode without warning. It was like living with a psychopath, each day a gamble on which version of her I would face.

Certain words, especially, would trigger her. If I mentioned freedom, escape, or even hinted at my friends, she would snap. Her eyes would darken, her expression twisting into something monstrous. She would scream, her voice shrill and grating, and I would see the madness lurking just beneath the surface.

Ferrara’s behavior wasn’t just erratic—it was terrifying. One moment she would be crying, tears streaming down her face as she clung to me, begging me to love her. The next, she would be laughing maniacally, threatening to kill anyone who came near me. Her bipolar nature kept me on a constant edge, always wary, always watching for the signs of her next outburst.

It was exhausting, this endless dance with madness. But I had learned to navigate it, to use it to my advantage. I played along, giving her just enough of what she wanted to keep her calm, while always looking for an opportunity to turn the tables. And tonight, I felt it—tonight was the night I felt I would escape this hell hole, I didn’t know how but I would. I could feel it in my bones, a primal instinct honed by months of captivity.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the red room plunged into shadow, I felt a thrill of anticipation. Tonight felt different. Ferrara had left the room, her steps unusually silent, as if she too sensed something was amiss. I pretended to sleep, my breathing slow and steady, but my senses were on high alert.
We had lights in the room but she had automatically programed them to go off at 8pm with some low light coming on not so long after.

Hours passed, the silence stretching thin. Then, I heard it—a faint rustling, the sound of footsteps approaching. My heart raced. Could it be them? Had they finally come? Or maybe it was just Ferrara being a vigilante again?
The bushes rustle as the wind blew lightly, I could hear multiple footsteps it was so audible to me I knew the minute they entered the house, the minute they step foot in the mansions wooden floor.

The door creaked open, and I kept my eyes closed, listening intently. The raven-haired woman beside me bolted to the bathroom, hiding as if she knew something big was about to go down. The intruders moved stealthily, but I could hear the slight clink of weapons, the muted whispers of coordination.

“Found him,” a voice whispered. It was Raven, our sniper, her tone calm and focused.

“Good. Behemoth, guard the door,” another voice replied. Behemoth—the muscle of our group, a giant of a man who could break bones with his bare hands.

I lay still, waiting. The room was tense, every second stretched out like an eternity. Finally, the door opened wider, and Raven stepped in, her eyes scanning the room quickly before settling on me.

“It’s us, boss,” she whispered urgently. “We’re here to get you out.”

I opened my eyes, relief flooding through me. “Raven? Behemoth?”

“Yeah, it’s us. Let’s move,” Behemoth rumbled, his massive frame blocking the doorway.

Raven quickly approached, cutting the chains that bound me. “We don’t have much time,” she said. “Ferrara’s goons will be back any second.”
“Her goons?” I said.
“yeah her goons, she has been hiding then, I guess you’ve not been our for a while.
That is when it came to me, sometimes, Ferrara would excuse herself and go out of the room for a while, for someone who is crazily in love with me that was strange.

Just as she finished, we heard a voice echo through the halls. “I see you all have come to take what is mine,” Ferrara’s voice was cold, almost gleeful. “Luckily, I prepared, luckily I am not blind.”
Then a chill silence followed.
“Shit” Raven said as she dragged me to a corner.
“chu-ckum” guns cooked in almost every corner.
Gunfire erupted from every direction. “Yo! Ratface, where’s the explosive?” Behemoth shouted into his communication device as we took cover.

“Setting it off now, bossman,” came the excited, scrawny voice of Ratface, our crazy little man. Moments later, the mansion shook with the force of the blasts, the night sky lighting up like fireworks as explosions ripped through the building.

We moved quickly, dodging debris and enemy fire. The plan was unfolding perfectly, just as I had imagined. Ferrara’s men were thrown into chaos, their coordinated assault broken by the sudden explosions.

As we reached the mansion’s outer wall, I could see the rest of my crew waiting. The familiar faces of my friends brought a surge of hope. We were almost free.

We burst through the mansion's remains, the night air a sharp contrast to the stifling heat inside. The explosions had disoriented Ferrara's men, and we used the chaos to our advantage. But we weren’t safe yet. The compound was heavily guarded, and we needed to get past the perimeter and out of the area.

“Move, move!” I shouted, leading the charge. Raven and Behemoth flanked me, their weapons ready. The rest of the crew followed, each member covering the others as we advanced.

My heart racing, my blood pumping, I was fucking free, I was fucking free.

“we have some extraction vehicles up front boss.” I heard over the earpiece, I know that voice, that was Red Head Junkie.

Ferrara’s voice rang out again, filled with rage. “You won’t escape me, Sebastian! You belong to me!” Her words sent a chill down my spine, but I pushed it aside. This was our moment, and I wouldn’t let her take it from me.

We made our way through the compound, the sounds of gunfire and explosions echoing around us. My mind was laser-focused, every step calculated. We had to reach the extraction point where our getaway vehicles waited.

Ratface’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “I’ve got more charges set, boss. Just say the word.”

“Do it,” I ordered. Seconds later, another series of explosions rocked the compound, creating more confusion and giving us the cover we needed.

As we neared the gate, a squad of Ferrara’s men blocked our path. “Take them out!” I shouted. Raven’s sniper rifle cracked, precise and deadly. Behemoth charged forward, a human battering ram, taking down anyone in his path.

The fight was intense, every second a struggle. I felt the adrenaline pumping through my veins, my mind sharp and focused. We were so close.

“Ratface, we need another diversion!” I yelled.

“On it!” he replied. An explosion tore through the front gate, creating a massive hole.

“Go, go, go!” I commanded. We sprinted through the opening, gunfire trailing us. As we reached the waiting vehicles, I turned back to see Ferrara standing in the ruins of her mansion, her face a mask of fury and desperation.

“You can’t escape me, Sebastian!” she screamed, but her voice was lost in the roar of the engines as we sped away.

The thrill of escape surged through me as we tore down the road, putting distance between us and Ferrara’s domain. The night air was cool against my skin, the smell of freedom intoxicating.

“We did it,” Raven said, her voice filled with relief.

“Yeah, we did,” I replied, my mind already racing with thoughts of what came next. We weren’t safe yet, but we were free.
Then almost immediately ferraras goons blocked our paths, that calculated this far, for a psycho she really is pure brains and it’s scary.