Harlow took a deep breath and looked back at her hands, turning her back on the window and walking up to the device. She simply looked at it for a moment, and then wrapped her hand around the wire that would connect to her heart. She gave it a yank and it came free. After, she opened the black box and snatched the used needle from it, walking quickly to the door. It wasn't a particularly complex lock, simply one that you might find on a house door. She started needling at the lock quickly, and after a surprisingly small amount of time, it gave a click. She yanked the syringe out and tossed it on the floor, trying the door. Of course, it didn't give. She slammed her foot against it with an aggravated sigh, striding through it as it popped open. She walked quickly to the next door, pausing and taking a breath. This was a kind of one shot-situation.

((Apologies for the most cliche method of escaping ever but my brain didn't brain))

Hehe, she loosened it- I was honestly expecting her to throw the monitor through the window/mirror))

Mark sighed quietly, noticing quickly that made his open wounds sting. He unclenched his fist after a moment, but he couldn't open it any more than losen it, the feeling made him cringe. He looked up at the monitor, noticing she was moving. When she disappeared from view, he lightened up a little. looked like she was getting tired of watching. He heard a faint crash. He smiled slightly and leaned back in his chair quietly.

Mmm but bullet proof glass))

Harlow glanced up and down the hallway- mysteriously empty for the time being. She rapped her knuckles against the door in a sort of rehearsed pattern, like a code of some sort. After, she stood to the side and held her back to the wall, the wire held tightly in her fist as she waited for the man to open the door.

The man came close again, touching the blade to Mark's left forearm. Silently glaring doen at Mark, who had his eyes shut. Then there was a knock, his head shot up. The pressure on his forearm was released as the torturer put down the scalpel on a pristinely white hand towel. He walked over to the door, took his key and unlocked it, leaning out, he looked to the opposite side of her placement first. Mark was watching intently.

Harlow lightly pulled the wire taut between her hands, staring at the door and pressing back into the wall behind her as the man popped his head out. His body was angled out just enough for her to grab him from behind, pulling the cord taut around his neck and yanking him back, slamming her hand over his mouth and clutching the cord tightly, just enough so to make it hard to breath. "Shh. Don't scream." She whispered lightly, turning and walking backwards into the room until she found the table filled with his little torture devices. She grabbed the first syringe she saw, releasing his mouth, one filled with a murky gray liquid, a similiar transparency like the one she had taken. "It's a shame I never studied what all these serums did. At least I'll figure out what this one does." She smiled bitterly, giving it a quick jab and pressing the plunger. She dropped the syringe and waited a few moments until the man went limp, dropping him with a sigh.

Mark sat in silence, he'd have whistled and or cheered if it wasn't quite such a situation he should be quiet in. He looked up at her with a smile. "I was starting to think you forgot me." He teased lightly, a weak tone in his voice. He looked rough, his eye was red, blood was down the whole side of that face, down his throat, over the right side of his chest, down his stomach. But he still carried a sweet smile for her.

Harlow turned around and took in a sharp breath at the sight of so much blood coming from someone she didn't want to bleed. "I would never. I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner." She said, almost a whisper because she was somewhat choked up. She leaned over and busied herself with his shackles before pulling him into a gentle embrace, trying to be careful of his seeping wounds. She pressed a kiss lightly to his temple, settling her head against his and simply holding him for a few moments. "I'm really sorry." She muttered softly.

He chuckled quietly, hitching his breath because it hurt. "Its alright, I promise." He pulled his hands close, he looked down at himself really for the first time, cringing. He looked to her as she freed his legs, he scooted forward gently as she pulled him close. "I don't blame you." He said quitely, putting his head on her shoulder for a moment, tired. "However, we still have to get out of here alive." He pulled his head up.

"But it isn't." Harlow murmured stubbornly, huffing at his next answer. "Well, you should. But thanks." She added softly, closing her eyes for a moment as he rested his head on her shoulder. She gently released him afterward, ignoring the blood sticking to her body because of the embrace. "Yeah. Still working on that part." She nodded vaguely, snatching the hand towel she had seen used earlier and cutting it quickly into strips. She tied speedy makeshift bandages on what looked like the worst of his wounds, mainly the one on his head. "Can you walk?" She asked hurriedly as she moved, giving him a once over and deciding it would have to be good enough as she grabbed the most dagger like device she could find.

The biggest one on his head is right below his eyebrow hehee))

"Details details." He scoffed, sitting up as she moved off. He tentatively looked closer at his blood covered hand, the wound was smaller than the pool of blood would suggest. He let her bandage him up, staying quiet. Glad she decided now wasn't the time for stitches. He found he placement of the bandage on his head unfortunate and took it off, dabbing his jaw with it gently. He looked up at her. "I should." He grabbed the armrest for support, he stood up shakily but he made it, his head throbbing. He looked around for his shirt, finding it. Sadly the shirt was white but its better to have a shirt than no shirt. He limped on the chair as he made is way to it. He let go of the chair, looking for balance. He grimaced, falling into a squat on his hands. He gave it a second before he stood back up, snatching his shirt. He rolled up the sleeves loosely and quickly. He glanced over the table and found something sharp, something he could throw. He'd never seen it before but that wasn't a necessary quality. He urged her on to the door. Holding the table slightly for balance.