"I'll have you flayed for this," spat Hanif, as he quickly closed the distance. Stephen did the only thing he could think of in the moment, and swung the bat hard. He felt Hanif's hands make contact with the bat as it swung down through it's arc, pulling it low and to his side with notable strength. Blocked with the bat, there was only one possible move left.

Hanif's face went ashen, and a look of real fear appeared as the blade slid between his own ribs, with several inches protruding into his very core. As if not believing the outcome, he looked down, seeing the cold, hard steel penetrating his own body, with the handle of the knife firmly affixed within Stephen's grip. Hanif relaxed his grip on the baseball bat, and stumbled backwards as his tunic revealed the splotches of deep, red blood appearing just beneath. His feet lost their bearing, and he collapsed to his knees first, and then fell over on his side.

Stephen was in as much of a shock as the warden, watching the powerful man go down from his own actions. It was not a fight he thought he was going to win, yet he was the only man still standing. Hanif managed to sputter several times, although nothing he said was coherent. Figuring that he was disarmed (for now), Stephen gripped his bat tighter, and pushed on through the living room to the last room on the main floor.

Much like the rest of the house, this room was practically empty as well, save for one folding chair in the middle of the floor, and a crumpled heap laying on the floor. It was Grace.

Dropping the bat on the floor, Stephen rushed to her, cradling her body on the floor against his own. She was warm, and breathing, yet her eyes were closed.

"Grace, I'm here. Grace, can you hear me?" Stephen asked, panicked at her seemingly unconscious state. Her hands were bound in the Restraint still, but otherwise there were no other indications of harm. He just prayed he wasn't too late.

He watched as her chest rose, fell, and rose again steadily. Praying for a miracle, his wishes were soon answered as bright, blue eyes soon gazed into his own.

"Stephen?" She whispered.

"I'm here," he returned, a small smile forming on his lips.

Grace eyed the door. "It's not safe for you here. The warden could be back at anytime."

He held up his hand to stop her, "He's not going to bother us now. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

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"I've been better," she smiled, weakly. Stephen looked her over carefully. She didn't seem to have any marks, cuts, or bruises, yet he didn't think she would show wounds like a human would either. Her energy level was ma.s.sively spent, and those silvery cuffs were still around her wrists, glowing in a soft green luminescence. He helped her sit up against the wall, watching while those little cuffs fell into her lap.