starry eyes ✮ slashers.

chapter 006.

six. i can't stay forever.

He's so beautiful, she thinks. Her eyes focus on the road, when they aren't focused on his sleeping form beside her. She hears the zips from the bags in the backseat occasionally jingle and her excitement only grows. Harmony was far in the rear view mirror and they were only getting closer to their new life, together.

She glances to him once more, blood dampening his white shirt from the wound hidden beneath. She frowns, his sleeping form is so peaceful she doesn't want to wake him. Perspiration coats his forehead and she checks a passing sign, their new home isn't far. Perhaps ten minutes.

She'd let him rest and tend to his bandages when they arrive. She can't help but feel guilty for the trouble he'd been through over the past week and it was almost entirely her fault.

"I don't know what you want from me, Lyra. I am not the fucking killer." His words are venomous, a tone she hadn't ever wanted to hear from him. He brushes past her, stopping in the doorway when he sees his pickaxe and mask resting by her bed.

His heart is pounding and his entire sense of self is slowly slipping away.

"Tom?" He doesn't respond, eyes locked onto the eyes of the mask. Lyra slides between him and the door, hand on his chest in the hopes he'd look at her. "Tom?" He blinks slowly, eyes rolling beneath his closed lids. Her breath hitches as he slowly opens his eyes again, "Harry?" His head snaps to the side to view her, his jaw is clenched and for the first time since Valentine's night, she feels afraid.

"Move." He grunts, seeing red, he's absolutely consumed by the frustration and stress and it's all forming into a strong tense form of hate. His fingers are itching to grasp the strong handle of his weapon.

His eyes long for blood.

"Harry, wait—" Lyra watches as he frantically puts his mask back on, she runs her fingers through her hair wondering how she can possibly help him.

He surprises her by pausing, his mask now on, facing her expectantly. She assumes he needs to let off steam but with them leaving soon all the kills would suddenly end, her mother is completely unsuspecting downstairs and the miners mental state is very unstable. She can't think of a way to help him but she wants nothing more than to be able to.

"Stay safe, come back when you feel better. We can talk about this, I can help you through it." She nods at her own words, giving him a brief hug before stepping back to let him pick up his weapon. He stomps down the stairs and Lyra prays with everything in her her mother keeps out of the way.

Fearing the worst, she runs after his large figure, wishing she'd begged him to leave through her window. As she reaches the last step, she's met with a heartbreaking sight.

Her mother is kneeling on the sofa, a handgun rested atop the armrest aiming straight for the miner.

"Lyra, run." She speaks so calm its wildly unnerving. The woman had feared the worst, the monstrous man had descended the stairs after brutally taking the life of her only child.

But she couldn't be more wrong.

"Muma, please put the gun down." Lyra extends her hands, attempting to reason with the protective woman. Lyra receives no reply as her mother is too stunned to speak.