Antihero (Indefinite Hiatus D: )

Chapter Ten

My heartbeat was beating loudly in my ears, assuring me I was still alive. The organ in my hand quivered, its warmth seeping between my fingers and onto the floor. I opened my eyes, letting out a deep sigh of both relief and disappointment, and stared at the ceiling. I slowly lowered my head and looked down at the heart I had clenched in my fist dangling by my side, before letting it go. It fell with a dull, squelching sound, as the organ flattened against the bloody concrete. 

I let my gaze wander to look at Christopher, squashed against the bars by the advanced humans who were trying to desperately get away from the blood seeping towards their cage. His face was blank, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were sparkling with flecks of fear. My stomach flipped again, that feeling twisting in my gut as though I had done something to be ashamed of. I wasn't ashamed, yet I was the first to break eye contact. Turning away, I made my way to the sink in the corner just past Lieutenant Andrews.

Andrews said nothing, but his face was a little pale, sweat beading on his forehead. He avoided my cold gaze as I passed by him. The sound of someone throwing up broke the chilly silence that had enveloped the room and I turned to watch one of the door guards throw up in the corner. I guess they weren't used to such violence. 

"I did warn you," I said with a shrug of my shoulders, turning back to the sink and washing the blood from my hands. Suddenly, there were screams and cries from the advanced humans who were locked up, as though my voice had roused them from the shock they were drowning in. 

Lieutenant Andrews jumped up and ran over to them, yelling at them to shut up and beginning his spiel about how this would happen to them if they didn't register. He didn't go near Joel. He didn't even look at his body or the pool of blood spreading across the floor, as though if he ignored it he could pretend it didn't happen. I dried my hands gently, wincing at the feeling of the rough towel brushing against my split knuckles. 

"...Registering is the only way to ensure you never have to deal with Michaelson DeMarlo again," Lieutenant Andrews finished, his arm pointing to me as I took my singlet off, not wanting the blood on it to stain my dress shirt. I pulled the dress shirt on against my bare skin and turned to fully face the cages, relishing in the fearful eyes of those locked within. 

"Using me as a warning, Andrews?" I asked with a smirk, buttoning my shirt deftly.

"You're damn right I am," he said back, his eyes only meeting mine briefly. "I think these guys would register if it means not seeing you ever again, right?" He turned to the cages, asking them. Their heads bobbed up and down quickly, eyes wide as they looked at me. I shrugged and grabbed my jacket, slipping my arms in.

"Oi, you two," Andrews yelled, addressing the guard throwing up in the corner and the guard who was patting his back awkwardly. "Stop being sick and go organise a room to register this lot." His thumb gestured to the caged beings behind him and the guards nodded their heads, the healthy one helping the sick guard up and out the door. I made my way over to the cages, towards Christopher, sidestepping the blood on the floor.

I stopped in front of the cage Christopher was inside, looking at him intently. He looked back at me, his face still blank. I cocked my head to the side and raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was going to pretend he didn't know me. He was still wearing the clothes I had given him the other week, but they were dirty and ripped already, making me wonder exactly how he had destroyed them so quickly. Lieutenant Andrews came and stood next to me, looking at Christopher curiously. Christopher cocked his head to the side in mirror of mine and the corner of his mouth slid up ever so slightly in a small, nervous smile.

"What's this one in for?" I asked, nodding my head toward Christopher before meeting Andrew's curious eyes. 

He headed back to his desk and I followed. Andrews avoided Joel's body, ignoring it as though it wasn't there, but I looked at it, my eyes dragging over the hole in his chest and his bloodied clothes, a small shiver of something akin to pride running down my spine. Man, I was pretty fucked in the head, and it was all DeMarlo's fault.