It's Death Or Victory // A Killjoy/MCR FanFic

Chapter 17 - A Choice

"'Cause we all wanna party when the funeral ends, and we all get together when we bury our friends.  It's been 8 bitter years since I've been seeing your face.  And you're walking away, and I will die in this place." ~ Kill All Your Friends

************

I landed on my bed.

The harshness knocked the wind out of me, but as I glanced around, I knew the place all too well.  The bare walls, the sole window, the kitchenette... it was my apartment.

I wondered briefly if I'd had a nightmare.  That was probably why I thought I was falling.  I sat up, glancing around and brushing my blonde hair from my face.

Blonde.  Why did that seem weird?  My hair is naturally blonde, isn't it?  So why did that catch me off guard?

I was in my clothes: black skinny jeans, a purple v neck, even my brown leather jacket and converse.  What had I been doing last night that I went to bed fully clothed.  I knew I hadn't been drunk, so what happened?

I looked around the room suspiciously.  Something was off; the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and goosebumps formed on my arms.  I felt like I was being watched.

Leaping off the bed, I ran to the door, unbolting it and stepping outside.  The hall was oddly quiet, despite the fact that I could see people moving about like they usually did everyday.  In fact, now that I realized it, there was no sound at all.  No traffic, no bustle of people, no horns or the low buzz of the everyday people talking away in the city.  This was Los Angeles, a city filled with life.  How was there no sound?

I stood in my doorway for several moments, trying to decipher what was going on, before I realized another oddity.  All the people were staring at me.  As each person in the hall passed me, their eyes remained glued to me, blankly staring.  I finally decided to figure out what was going on.

"Excuse me," I said to an elderly woman walking by.  She had white hair, a heavily creased faced, and walked with a cane, hunched over from the weight of her years.  She stopped in her tracks, still staring wordlessly at me.  I stepped closer to her.  "Is something wrong?" I asked.  "What's going on?"  She didn't reply.  I stepped closer again.  "Ma'm?"

Her mouth opened, but instead of words, a low murmur came out, inaudible syllables and sounds jumbled together like white noise.  I stumbled back but she only stepped closer to me.  I glanced around in alarm and realized that every person in the hall was doing the same thing, wordless mumbles coming from their mouths and each stepping toward me, their blank stares seeming to condemn me. 

I tried to take another step back, but the woman wouldn't have it.  She leapt at me with surprising strength and agility, grasping for my body.  I yelped and scrambled out of the way.  Turning on my heel, I ran past the others, who were also reaching out for me, like zombies from those old horror movies. 

I ran down the stairs, shoving last a few more people before bursting through the front doors.  It was just as bad out there, with thousands of eyes all up and down the street staring at me and hands all reaching out to grab me, the murmur now having become a dull roar.  I took off running, my feet pounding in the sidewalk, pushing through the crowds and dodging hands as I bolted down the street.  What the hell was going on?  What happened to everyone? 

I screeched as I ran to the edge of a construction hole, the pit falling so deep that I couldn't see the bottom of it.  I turned to go around, but stopped short as a fist grabbed hold of my jacket.  More hands closed in, and I realized I was left with two choices: the hands, or the pit.

I groaned, knowing what I was about to do was not at all a good idea, and pulled my arms from my jacket, allowing myself to fall over the edge of the hole.  Darkness enveloped me and I fell for what felt like an eternity, the groans the people still following me, but no hands in sight.