There's a fine line between hate and love.
Where Five Hargreeves crosses paths with the one and only Tribrid. What could possibly go wrong?
TW: Murder, swearing, violence, mentions/depictions of sex, mentions/depiction of drug use and abuse, ptsd, n...
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As soon as Hope entered the Elliott's apartment, she knew something was wrong. The pungent scent of blood lingered in the air. The curtains were drawn and the lights dim, almost like the building itself knew of the horrors that had occurred there only hours prior.
She stepped into the living room, coming face-to-face with Diego and Luther Hargreeves. Glancing around for a moment, her eyes csnaned the room for any signs of danger. Despite her not finding any, she could just tell- wether it be by the atmosphere itself or the way the two men were looking at her.
Her eyes fell in their figures, heart beating loudly, yet slowly in her chest, as if the beast inside was waiting for the danger to jump out from behind the curtains. "What's wrong?" She questioned carefully, her voice shaky, almost uncertain.
Diego and Luther shared a look, but didn't say anything. Her eyes strayed from them, now focusing on something behind them. She glanced at Luther and Diego, who knew she had seen it.
Hope walked past the two, not stopping until she reached the dentist chair placed before the banister, one that was defineteky not there before she left. Her breath caught in her throat, eyes wide as she stared at the mangled, disfigured body of one Elliott Gussman.
Hope could seem to do nothing but stare. It felt as though her body was paralyzed, her mind trying to process exactly what she was seeing. Knives stabbed through various parts of his body, cuts and slashes across his skin and pools of blood on the floor, just at her feet.
And a knife stabbed into where his eye should have been.
Luther and Diego had never seen Hope this way, looking helpless. In that moment she had never looked more like a broken child- one without her guard up. It was almost unsettling, like it shouldn't even be able to happen to someone like her. Someone so strong and tough, who never let anything get to her... but it was a terrifying reality. It could happen to her. It could happen to anyone.
Luther finally mustered up the willpower to speak, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat as he carefully said, "Hope?" She didn't answer, didn't even show any signs she had heard him. Nevertheless, he continued. "Are you okay?"
Silently, vacantly, Hope turned, walking from the room.
Luther and Diego didn't know where she had gone, but knew better than to try and find her. She needed time by herself, and that was easy enough for them to understand.
