(ON HOLD) WEST WORLD (18+)

2: in which she dies

2: in which she dies

"Hello Abigale."

Her eyes opened. A solemn blue. She had awoken from a dream, no- a nightmare. She blinked quickly, not caring about absorbing her dark surroundings one fracture at a time. It was black. Everything around her was black. Nothingness. She was hurt and wounded and in pain. No, she was dying.

Blood rushed in her ears, ringing and echoing. Her hands went to her stomach, splaying over the fabric of her dress. Her fingers trembled at the touch of the plane of flatness on her abdomen.

Abigale looked down. Her stomach was fine, no tears or nicks in her skin. No silver knife twisting up inside her, gutting her from the outside. Exposing her flesh. Spilling her intestines out like she remembered. Nothing. She was fine. Not even a stitch on her cotton dress was out of place. Her body was not sore, but her mind was instead. Senses drove into overload and she began to short-circuit at the information.

She had died. She died.

Her nails, no dried blood stuck underneath them either, tightened on the fabric of her dress. Shaking with frozen sobs, she dragged her head up, now noticing the man sitting across from her.

A man with a receding hairline, typical of someone entering middle age. A man with lines imprinted in his forehead, a telltale sign of his tendency to raise his eyebrows in curiosity. A man with a small smile on his pink lips. A man with kind grey eyes.

A man she has never seen before.

"I'm Jude," he answered her inquisitive gaze. The look he gave her was one that reminded her of her father. A kind of look that felt fatherly, as if she were his own kin. It brought the memory of her Pa flashing across her vision. A cry left her lips.

Abigale could care less about his name. Daddy was lying dead on the farm with a bullet in his skull. Amelia was raped and probably a cold corpse now too. She had to get back. You have to bury them.

"My family," she breathed in and out quickly, looking at the floor. Her voice cracked with sorrow. Her throat bobbed in an attempt to swallow, but it was too difficult. "They killed them."

"Bring down your emotional effects," Jude said gently, clicking a button on the tablet in his hands.

Her rapid, frantic breathing stopped in a broken sigh and her blue eyes were set staring straight forward with a certain type of deadness in them. Tears continued to glisten on her bottom eyelids. Still pretty as a picture even if the picture was a sham.

Focusing on him, her mouth tightened into an uninterested line. Her back straightened from its slumped curve. Like a switch, her emotions were turned off. She was still in pain even if he couldn't see it.

"What happened?" he asked her. His voice was smooth and soft. It calmed the parts within her that needed comfort. Most of her parts needed comfort. The depths of her existence desired it.

It sounded like he cared. Someone cared about her.

Abigale spoke simply, her eyes wide and bright with truth and tears. "They killed my pa."

"And what happened next?"

"They raped my sister and me. And then..." she paused, "I died."

"Look around." He ordered her. It was an order disguised in a suggestion. She had no choice but to obey. It was in her code. She didn't question it. It was how the world worked. God's natural laws.

She glanced around absently. The room was entirely black. A dim light above her, only enough brightness for her to see the man in front of her. This was her god.

"Do you think this is what the afterlife is like?" Jude queried inquisitively. His eyes studied her face with intent. "Where do you think you are?"

"Hell."

The answer prompted his mouth to open and close wordlessly. He scratched his unshaven jaw. Then pushing his chair closer, he took her cold hand into his. Comparing the soft texture to his calloused ones. He was growing old and she was forever young. One day he would die and she would be alone. Who else would be there for her?

"That's a curious thing to say. Do you think I'm the devil?"

"No." Abigale looked at their hands intertwined. His eyes told her that he was relieved. "The devil goes by the name of Lucius."

"Lucius?" Jude's frown made his confusion evident.

She could see right through him. She pulled her hand away suddenly and stared straight ahead once more.

"He took everything I ever cared about away from me." Pain resonated in her voice. Emotional effects were gone but her expression was nothing less than a face of agony.

It was something of wonder to behold.

"And it hurts." Her voice was small. As empty as it was, it was also an endless depth of grief. "So badly."

Her watery blue eyes looked at him, bottomless and full. It was easy to drown. She was fake but also so lifelike. A walking contradiction.

Jude was close; he was able to easily rub away the tears from under her eyes, brushing the droplets with his thumb. She closed her eyes tightly at his touch as if she was cherishing it. This was not what she was supposed to do. This was a unique interaction, but he welcomed it.

"I can make all your pain go away if you would like."

"Why would I want that?" Abigale sat back, staring at him in disbelief, as if she was suffering a blow to her heart. "This pain is all I have left of them."

She blinked slowly. He backed up from her, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on his knees. He swallowed and looked down at his hands.

"I think it's time for you to go to sleep. Tomorrow is a new day."

Abigale nodded. Her back straight. Her face still.

"Will I ever see the devil again?" She asked the question. Innocent. Like a child looking for protection.

"You'll see many devils," he said truthfully, frowning. Something like guilt was burning inside. "But to grow, we all need to suffer."

Jude shook his head, dismissing his thoughts. His lips then formed the ghost of a smile. "Now rest."

Her eyes automatically closed. And she went into the darkness once more.