Two choices

Chapter 19

Marinette's POV

Marinette sat up straight in her bed, sweat trickling down her neck as she let out rough pants, small clouds of smoke that went unnoticed by the girl. Her mind was elsewhere, the dream--nightmare she just had--replayed through her mind. An image she would never forget, a story that she hoped would never become true.

In her dream she was forced to watch as Chat Noir got beaten repeatedly, his blood splattering the black-tiled floor that the two had stood on a few moments before. The green grass nearby became stained with red droplets that flew off his torn skin, and being the weak hero that she was, Marinette was unable to help as she herself lay in her own puddle of blood.

The wounds were not from the battle though. No, they were the wounds she had received from the car crash, wounds that opened up half-way through the fight, wounds that never seemed to leave. They were constant reminders that her time was running out, the last few specks of sand nearing the end of the hour glass of her life.

The funny thing was that it wasn't Hawkmoth who was fighting Chat Noir. No, it was a villain, one they had never met before, one that was more powerful than any the two had ever faced. One that was made from pure hatred. One that showed no fear. It wasn't even human. A true monster.

The person who had created the villain stood near a cracked, cream-coloured casket, the dark figure of a once alive woman lurking inside. Fresh tears flowing down the villains face as they looked at the sight before them, their eyes shining with hatred and fury and a smirk lined their face as they watched Chat Noir.

Marinette remembered the words Chat kept saying over and over as he took the punches. "No," he would cry. "No, no, no!" His desperate screams pierced her heart like a thousand silver daggers. Her eyes overflowed with tears as she lay on the cold frozen floor, helpless, defenseless, paralyzed, useless.

The screams of her teammate, her dear friend, her love, echoed through her mind, her body stiff, her mind clouded and her voice a soundless whisper as her lungs gave way and collapsed. From there, she had opened up her eyes, hoping that it was nothing more than a harmless nightmare.

Marinette was about to attempt going back to bed when she heard the trap door open. She checked the time, surprised to find that it was one in the morning. A time where most of Paris was fast asleep, their minds free from worry . . . except for recently, but that didn't excuse the fact that at one of the most silent times of the early morning, someone was trying to get into her room.

Unless Chat had had a terrible night and just wanted to rest, Marinette saw no reason for the door to be open. Unless someone is trying to break in? No . . . that is highly unlikely, but . . . just in case.

Marinette grabbed the pink hairdryer next to her bed, her grip tight around the handle, clinging to it with all her might (which wasn't much, much to her annoyance) to make sure she was armed if it so happened to be a robber. Better to be safe than sorry right?

The dark silhouette of a male appeared on the ladder, its shadow reflected onto the floor of the small room, but within a moment the body had crumpled on the floor, the figure coughing up drops of blood. The metallic substance filling the room with its pungent odor. The smell reminded Marinette too much of her accident, causing bile to rush up her throat, which she pushed down out of worry for the male.

"Chat!" Marinette cried, concerned for the superhero she had only recently found out she had fallen for. She placed the hairdryer down before making her way, limping towards Chat.

"Mari?" He coughed up. "Why are you awake?"

Chat's eyes suddenly widened in fear, his eyes darting around the room. He focused on the window before looking up at the trap door, a troubled sigh escaping from his bleeding mouth before his eyes found hers.