Hatchetfield Stories

The Star Of The Show

Happy Valentine's Day to all of my lovely readers, and of course my wonderful partner, @emzazzy2004!!

Here's a little fic I wrote yesterday while my family was painting my room in our new house :)

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Blood
-Injuries
-Broken bones
-Stabbing
-Death

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"I don't like musicals!" Paul shouted, pulling the pin before he could rethink his choice.

The blast threw him to the other side of the theater, and he hit the wall hard. Pain exploded through his entire body, and he couldn't hear anything over the ringing in his ears. Black spots swarmed his vision, and breathing hurt. Barely able to register the roof giving in and the stones raining down around him, he closed his eyes.

Paul forced himself to relax, despite the fact that his body was screaming in agony. He would not spend his last moments giving in to the pain. He thought about Emma, mumbling a silent apology despite the pain shooting through his jaw.

The ringing in his ears got louder and louder, and then everything went silent.

*** *** ***

"There we go..." Someone lifted the debris off him and looked at him while he opened his eyes with a groan. His glowing blue eyes shone through the darkness of the night, and Paul scrambled to get away.

"Hey..." he said softly, trying not to scare him. "I'm Ethan. Do you remember anything?"

"Of course I do. You're here to kill me."

Ethan chuckled as Paul whimpered at the pain in his ribs when he spoke.

"Calm down, okay? It won't hurt much, you're almost there already."

Paul gasped, covering his mouth and nose to stop himself from breathing in the spores that radiated from the meteor, which surprisingly didn't get damaged at all. It gave off a dim light, enough for him to look at his mangled figure. There was more blood than skin, and he was almost certain his ankle was not supposed to bend that way.

"Paul, it's time for you to be the star of the show," Ethan said, humming some tune he vaguely recognized.

Paul shook his head, wincing as he moved backward in a desperate attempt to get away from the boy, who placed his hand on Paul's broken ankle to stop him.

"Please..." he pleaded as Ethan dug his nails into his leg, blood staining his fingertips. He tried to kick him away, but the teen dropped himself onto his feet. Paul cried out as he heard his leg snap under the pressure.

With one fast motion, Ethan's hand went to his abdomen, nails digging into the skin as Paul desperately tried to push him away while his vision slowly blurred.

A few seconds later, Paul Matthews was gone.

*** *** ***

Emma.

Paul's eyes shot open with a gasp, and he pushed Ethan away as he hurried to stand up. It didn't hurt. Not anymore.

He saw his reflection in a pool of blood, and he stared at the glowing orbs where his eyes used to be. His lips curled up into a smile.

He was the star of the show. He just needed his love interest. And he would get her.

As if reading his mind (maybe he was), Ethan handed him a knife. "Good luck, Paul. We need our leading lady."

Leaving the theater behind, Paul ran through the streets of Hatchetfield. He could see the smoke from the crash in the distance, and he fastened his pace. Tired wasn't a feeling he knew. Not anymore.

He slowed down when he reached the crash site, kneeling down next to Emma's broken body. "Emma... I'm here..."

She reached for his face, her eyes red from crying, but a gentle smile on her face. "Paul... You came back..."

He pulled her onto his lap, ignoring her whimpers at the movements. "I can make it stop."

"What?" she asked, tensing when his arms wrapped around her.

"The pain. It could all be over in seconds."

Emma's eyes widened when she realized the implications of his words. She weakly fought against the arms around her. "Get away from me, you're one of them!"

"Shhh..." Paul hushed, pulling her closer as tears fell down her cheeks. "It won't hurt much, I promise."

"Paul..."

He reached into his pocket, smiling as he pulled out the knife Ethan had given him. Emma whimpered when her eyes fell on the weapon.

"Paul, no! I'm scared." Her voice broke as she reached for the knife, but Paul made sure she couldn't get it.

He stroked her cheek. "It's okay. I'll be right here. I'll be as gentle as I can."

Despite the tears rolling down her cheeks, Emma nodded. "Paul, it hurts..."

"I know. I'll make it stop."

Emma nodded hesitantly, laying down and looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

"I'll make it quick," he told her, pressing a kiss to her forehead while he tightened his grip on the knife.

Emma tensed when Paul put the tip of the knife in between her ribs, but not yet pressing down. "It won't hurt much, okay? Just a little, and then it's over."

A tear rolled down her cheek, but she nodded, closing her eyes in anticipation. "Just get it over with..." she mumbled, not even bothering to stop her voice from shaking. Paul smiled.

Emma flinched when he pressed the knife down, and her hands instinctively moved to cover his, gripping the knife, but she did nothing to stop him. Paul hushed her, pressing the knife just a bit deeper, and she gasped in pain before her tense body slumped down in his arms.

Paul dropped the knife to catch her, moving her so he could gently rock her body while he stroked her hair as her chest rose and fell one last time. He waited for her to wake up again, her brown eyes turned blue, and her leg not stopping her from dancing.

In the dim light of a nearby streetlamp, he could see the blood that poured from her broken body slowly turning purple. He waited for hours, watching her skin slowly repair itself, until no blood flooded out of her leg anymore.

The waves hitting the shore of Hatchetfield and the faint music in the distance set the scene, and when a black helicopter neared the island, a gunshot sounded, and it went down, sinking to the bottom of the lake. Occasionally an air bubble reached the surface, but no one came up.

They had nothing to worry about.

By the time Emma's eyes shot open with a gasp, the sun was rising over the lake, turning the sky orange.

"Good morning, sunshine," Paul hummed, taking Emma's hand in his. "Ready to start the day?" He gently moved her so he could stand up, and offered his hand to help her onto her feet.

Emma nodded, taking his hand and pulling herself up. Her leg wasn't bothering her anymore. Even when she pulled out the pipe, the gory wound didn't hurt her, and closed itself within minutes.

Paul led her back towards the town, where his, no, their family was waiting for them.

They danced.

They sang.

They were happy.