Hades

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Everything seems to happen both instantaneously and in slow motion all at the same time. The truck hits Spencer. The loudest bang I have ever heard in my life echoes all around us. Spencer drops like a stone. His body is snagged by the truck's bumper bar and dragged along the road for several metres, before he's sucked underneath the truck like a vacuum. I scream and run towards him. A hand grabs me and wrenches me back. The truck lets out a loud groan and speeds away, leaving a limp body in its wake. I suddenly lose the ability to breathe, or move, or function, gulping like a fish out of water as I stare blankly at Spencer. Leia, obviously deeming that I'm no longer in danger of being run over myself, relinquishes her grip on me and turns on her heel, screaming out words that are incoherent to me as she sprints back into the mansion. Time all but seems to stop. I tear my gaze away from Spencer and slowly look up.

And I meet a pair of magnetic, midnight blue eyes.

"You!" I gasp. A jolt of recognition freezes my limbs. "It's you!"

The man I'd met in the airport steps forward, watching me impassively. He looks around my age, no older than twenty-five. "Hello."

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" I ask, finally managing to rip myself out of my petrified state enough to take a few steps forward. Spencer lies on the ground between us, scarily motionless.

The man tilts his head to the side, not unlike the way one does when they're observing a particularly interesting animal. His black trench coat flaps in the wind, revealing chinos and a shirt that are slightly different shades of the dark colour. "Don't you know?"

"Do I look psychic to you? Of course I don't know who you are!" I snap, throwing my hands up in the air. I stop myself, taking a deep breath. "Why am I talking to you? I shouldn't be talking to you, not when Spencer..."

Reality crashes down around me like a tidal wave. I stagger back, my heart leaping up into my throat. I stare up at the man in panic.

"Spencer. He... he got hit by a truck. I need to help Spencer. Why aren't you helping Spencer?!"

"Spencer is dead." The man says bluntly. "He cannot be helped."

"He's not dead!" I exclaim, near hysterics. "He can't be. He's Spencer."

The man doesn't respond, his gaze slowly lowering to the body lying between. I follow his gaze and finally, really look at Spencer.

And it hits me, right then, that the stranger's quietly spoken words might actually be true.

His body is twisted in such an unnatural position that I just know his spine is broken, along with what looks like half of the bones in his body. There's a deep dent concaving the side of his head in, and the blood that's already oozing from the wound streams down his cheek to meet up with the blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. But what's most horrifying of all is his eyes. They're wide open, and blank as a slate. Unblinking.

My whole body revolts, and I struggle to keep myself from vomiting. Crashing to my knees, I frantically feel for a pulse, but there's nothing. No movement whatsoever. My chest tightens. Burning panic tears through my veins.

"Spencer! Wake up!"

"He is not going to wake up." A soft voice says from above me. I jump about a mile into the air. "Even if he did, why would you want him to wake up? From what I heard, he was not treating you very fairly."

"What the hell do you mean?" I demand. My gaze whips up in furious disbelief. "Of course I want him to wake up! He's my best friend!"

"Is that how best friends treat each other?" The man asks evenly. His midnight blue eyes glint in the dark." Like dirt? Filth? No care or respect at all?"