8 / Seán / The Surprise

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Wake up, Seán. I want you to see all of this.

My eyes open and it takes me a moment to realize where I am. A plane? What in the world?

More like where. LA.

No. No, Anti, you can't do this.

I most certainly can. And who's gonna stop me. You? Ha! The plane is already landing. And I know where Mark's house is. He can't take her into PAX because she's in witness protection and she can't have photos taken of her or the killer could find out where she is. Which means she is most likely home alone right now. And worst case scenario, we show up and tell her babysitter we wanted to surprise people at PAX but our flight got delayed and now we can't. Then we make them leave so we can watch her. And by we I mean me. And by watch... well, I think you know what I mean.

No. Anti, don't do this! I fight desperately against his hold, pushing. It's no use. He's gotten stronger. A lot stronger.

The plane lands and he stands, pulling out his luggage and checking into a nearby hotel. He quickly gets a room, throwing down his stuff. He makes his way into the bathroom. He scratches at our neck, unzipping the black hoodie and pulling it off. Our neck is covered in blood. Naturally, if he's in control, my body technically has to be dead.

He grins into the mirror and my blood freezes. He's going to get her. What do I do? I continue to fight and I can see our eyes in the mirror flashing from a glowing green to my usual blue.

He gets angry, his claws growing out as he rips at our arms, shredding the skin on top. Claw marks rip through my tattoo. The tattoo will be back to normal after his possession, but the defamation of it hurts. I can still feel all the wounds on my body.

I scream inside my own mind and his grin is all I can see. He pulls the hoodie back on, hood up, and exits the hotel. He gets a cab to Mark's house. It's only a few minutes before we stop at his front door. He pays the driver then exits the vehicle, stomping up the driveway.

He slams his fist into the door. There's a beat of silence. Good. Don't open the door, Y/n-

The door swings open and in a pair of shorts and a tanktop, she stands there, her hair ruffled. She's smaller than I remember from my dreams and guilt overtakes me. She's dwarfed in comparison to our lean frame. He could easily slap her around. She raises a delicate brow. I expect her to say something, but remember that she's mute. Anti seems to recall too.

"Hey, I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm a friend of Mark. You're Y/n, right? Is Mark here?" She shakes her head. Her fingers fly into signs. 'PAX.'

"Ah, that makes sense. May I come in?" Clearly she thinks something isn't right. Good. Don't let him in. Call Mark.

Politely, she shifts away from the door. I feel a grin spread across his face. No. This isn't good at all. I push at him, trying to take back control. He pushes me back.

"So. Got anything to eat?" He asks, turning towards her, still grinning. Seeming very unsure of herself, she nods, leading us into the kitchen. His eyes drop down to her rear. I'm struck with surprise for a moment. Anti, stop this! Why would you come all this way just to do this?

He snaps at me. Shut up, Seán! Learn your place!

She stops at the counter, her hands coming up. His eyes move to them to watch. 'We have pizza. Chips. Something to drink?'

"Water," he croaks out, watching as she nods, opening one of the cupboards above her head. He watches closely as she almost struggles to grab a glass, finally dropping off her tiptoes to close the cupboard and fill the glass with water.

What are you planning here Anti? He doesn't answer.

He takes a few steps toward her. Before he can close the gap, she spins toward him, holding out the glass. Upon finding him less than a foot from her, she drops the glass, shattering it on the floor, flinchint at the impact. A couple shards are sent into her bare feet and she starts to bleed a little. She looks up and into our eyes. "Sorry." He doesn't sound sorry and he knows it. His grin doesn't help.

Her brows crease together slightly. She nods, stepping away from him for a second. "Why don't you go ahead and clean up your feet? I'll fix this mess." She eyes him for a moment. She doesn't fully trust him. Good. Don't. Go into the bathroom, lock the door, and call Mark.

She nods after a moment, signing a 'thank you.'

Instead of bending down to pick up the glass, he steps toward the drawers. He starts opening them and after a minute, finds what he is looking for. The knife drawer. He pulls out a large cake knife, grinning like a madman.

He stalks through the hallway, looking for her. Anti, stop this. You don't have to do this.

I don't have to do shit. But I want to.

He slams open the bathroom door, stomping in. He scans the tiled room. She isn't in here. The FirstAid kit is untouched. He growls, spinning around. She stands stock still in the doorway of a different room. Her eyes dart from the bathroom behind him to our eyes to the knife in his hand.

She jumps into action, turning sharply around and slamming the door of the room closed, locking it. Anti moves too, but not quick enough. He bangs on the door. "Come out, little mouse! And maybe I won't rip your guts out and string them up like Christmas lights!"

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