*HEY WHAT IS THE UPS MY CREEPS? WOULD YOU LIEK TO PURCHASE MY WARES? (Shut, up, no references). I THINK THIS CHAPTER FEELS PURDY LONG (references) BUT IDEK. ALTHOUGH, HERE'S ANOTHER FANCY SHMANCY UPDATE FOR YOUUUUU~. IT ALSO COMES WITH A COMPLIMENTARY SIDE OF QUESTIONS!
QUESTIONS!!:
-What would you do if you became a billionaire?? (Uhm *thinks about anime and manga and books and books and merch and-* Charity.)
-What was the weirdest/funniest/scariest dare you've ever done? (Well, one time I had to grind against a tree stump and call it "Daddy". Now that damn tree stump won't stop calling meh.)
HAVE A GREAT DAY! :D*
Stay Creepy, My Friends!~
Chapter 36
The adrenaline from the Corrupted attack finally left my body, leaving me exhausted and unwilling. I lay on an old bed, with bandages on my hands from the scrapes I gained. My face was cleaned up from the grime but my clothes were not so fortunate. My shirt was tattered and dried blood caked my pants and shoes. Even my new backpack now looks ragged with dirt and blood on it, when just earlier it was clean and unused. Judging by the dried blood on its tough blue fabric, cleaning it won't completely remove the stains. I'll make sure that my family and friends never lay eyes on the backpack.
Jack lay resting in a room across from the one I was in. He hasn't woken up since Ben took us back to the hideout, which we're in right now. Jeff says he'll be alright but Jack won't be able to walk for a while. He'll have to stay bed-ridden in the hideout until full recovery. Even though it isn't, I felt that his injury was my fault. I can't help but feel that I could've prevented it. It's bad enough that he's sick. If I had tried harder to open up the wall, we could've escaped sooner. If I had been more wary of the Corrupted, this ordeal wouldn't have played out. If I had stayed with Jack at my estate, maybe none of this would have ever happened. But it's not my fault and I shouldn't be guilty.
The door to the room opened and in stepped Jeff, followed by Ben. Ben gave me a smile which helped my emotions. Jeff tried but it seemed he was still concerned about all of this. "How's your leg," he asked me. I looked down at my leg, the one the Corrupted hit, and I sighed. "I still can't move it," I answered. I've tried getting it to twitch but it wouldn't obey. I had heard something pop but I didn't think it would get this bad. "Can it be fixed?" I asked. Jeff nodded.
"It's just dislocated," Ben added, "we can pop it back into place. It'll hurt like hell, though."
I twisted my lips into a grimace. The thought of the pain of my joint being shifted back into place was unsettling. I've never had anything dislocated before but I've heard that having the joint set back into place is more painful than having it dispositioned. I'm not looking forward to this...
You'll be okay.
I smiled as my heart ached with love. I missed Sam's luscious voice and his comforting presence. Of course I'm still a little upset that he was gone for so long but the happiness from his return overwhelmed my grievance. I feel so much better now that I have Sam again. If he says I'll be okay than I will. Because I have him.
"I want it re-positioned again," I said, my voice shaking from anticipation. Jeff and Ben shared looks with each other and silently agreed to the task. Jeff pulled out some of the blanket under me and told me to bite on it when they would start to pop my leg back in place. I clutched the blanket tightly in my hand. Ben moved my dislocated my leg and set it up to be fixed. A shuddering breath escaped my lips.
Don't worry, you'll handle it. I'm here for you.
I so desperately wanted to say my affections for Sam's support but Ben was already lifting my leg. Just as he was about to push, the door opened again and in stepped a newly clothed Elizabeth. Once she saw all three of us, she frowned and reeled back. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she muttered. I blinked at her, then I looked at Ben. My face flushed as I realized what she meant, by his position. Ben looked at me and stifled a nervous chuckle. "This isn't what it looks like," he said awkwardly. Elizabeth nodded.
"Her leg is dislocated and we're setting it back in place," Jeff explained briefly. Elizabeth sauntered up beside Ben, examined me and said, "You're doing it wrong."
He laughed. "I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing! This isn't the first time I've set a dislocated limb back into place before."
"At the angle you're pushing, you're only going to agitate it," she sighed. Before Ben could argue any further, she pushed him out of the way and grabbed my leg. I yelped and clawed at the blanket in my hands. She placed my leg into a different angle and ordered, "Ben, why don't you hold her down? She's going to thrash a bit. Jeff, hold her hand." Without protest, the two men did as she said and I could understand why. Her voice was full of authority and it never faltered. I bet if they hadn't known her at all, they still would've done as commanded. Elizabeth's fingers pressed into my leg, making me wince from her tight grip. "Can we count to three," I asked through the blanket in my mouth. She gave me a look but nodded anyway. Jeff did the honors and counted.
"One. Two. Three-."
"No, no, w-wait," I exclaimed, whimpering. Elizabeth stopped and stared at me. I panted, waited a few moments before swallowing down my anxiety and then giving the go-signal.
Jeff said, "One. Two. Three-."
"No, don't do it!" I exclaimed again.
All three of them groaned, Elizabeth being the loudest. I smiled nervously and cleared my throat. I took in a few deep breaths as they all waited for me. "Okay," I said, "I'm ready."
"Are you really," Elizabeth grumbled.
I nodded and adjusted my bite onto the blanket. Jeff took in a breath and repeated, "One. Two-."
A sharp, rattling pain erupted throughout my body and I screamed, my blanket absorbing my voice. Fresh tears spilled down my face and I whimpered feebly. I looked up at Elizabeth who bore a placid expression. Jeff and Ben on the other hand were just as taken aback as I was. I spit the blanket out of my mouth and panted heavily, still feeling some after-sensations from my joint going back into place. I could see Jeff frown out of the corner of my eye and he said, "Why didn't you wait until three?"
Elizabeth huffed. "People anticipate pain after the count of three, which, more than likely, causes them to chicken out. It's better to get things over with before they expect it so it's easier to handle."
"I almost had a heart attack," I moaned weakly.
"You're still breathing, kid, don't worry," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. I sighed and lay even more exhausted on the bed. Ben walked out to get me some water while Jeff explained to me that I would have to take it easy on my leg. I made mental notes of his advice and thanked him, as well as Elizabeth for the help. When Ben came back with some water I drank it eagerly and finished the whole cup. I checked the time and sighed. It's six thirty-two already. My parents don't get back until about seven thirty. I was hoping to spend more time with Jack before they arrived but that won't be happening. Not for a long while.
I started slipping out of the bed but Jeff gently pulled me back down. "You shouldn't strain yourself," he said sternly. I shook my head, said, "I'll be fine," and continued to get out of bed. On my first step, I stumbled but I caught my balance again. Elizabeth just watched me, an almost unnoticeable interest in her eyes. Like she was examining me as if I were a mouse going through a maze. I ignored her stares and walked out of the room. When I entered the hallway, I stared at the closed door in front of me. Jack is resting inside. I thought of the reveal of his face, the sight of his eyes covered. I frowned as I tried to process it. There is no way for him to have moved the way he did with his eyes covered. Why would he do that? What sort of purpose does that serve?
"I'd suggest you don't open the door." A voice startled me and I turned to see Ben. He closed the door to the room I was previously in and stood out in the hallway with me. I stared at him. "Why?"
Ben looked at the door with a knowing, solemn look. "He doesn't look too dashing," he jested. I didn't laugh which made him uncomfortable. It wasn't that I was being rude. I was just too concerned with Jack's state to have a laugh. We stood around for a while, before I frowned at him and said, "How could you have let him run off?"
Ben raised his hands up in retreat and stepped away. "I didn't mean to," he answered, "One moment he was in the guest room, then the next he's gone and the window's left open."
"You can't suddenly lose him. He's pretty tall so there's no way you could so happen to miss sight of him," I said. Ben scratched his head and looked away. "Look, I had to take a leak," he responded, "Ya know, squeeze the lemon? Open the flood gates? Yah? Oui, oui, mademoiselle-?"
"Yes, I get it, you had to piss," I sighed.
"Okay, so I did my business and when I came back Jack was gone," Ben summed up. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," I murmured, "As long as no one dies, everything's okay." I looked to the door to Jack's room and bit my lip. I wanted to go inside and see him but I don't think I'm allowed.
Just go in already.
The door opened without so much as a touch and I gaped. Really, Sam? Ben stared at it along with me but I walked in without giving an explanation. I took quiet steps as I stared at Jack's lying figure. Once I was at his bedside, I gingerly grabbed his hand and held it. He didn't twitch or wake up, just kept lying down. I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. His skin was still warm from his fever. I looked down and saw a tear in his pants, where Jeff had easier access to the wound on his thigh. It was now fixed and bandaged. Jeff told me that the action of me using my jacket to reduce blood flow had helped the wound. I could've felt proud if I wasn't so bothered.
My gaze was casted to Jack's sleeping face. The bandages and tape still covered his eyes and I tightened my jaw. I caught Ben walking into the room too, out of the corner of my eye. He stood on the other side of the bed, looking down at his friend. I noticed his shoulders were tense, like he was anticipating something. After I spoke, I realized what it was. "Why are his eyes covered," I asked quietly, almost reluctantly.
I could see Ben's jaw clench as he thought. He stared at Jack. "I think it's better if he were to tell you," he answered hoarsely. The way he looked at Jack, the way he responded, it felt so grim, so foreboding. This is another one of Jack's secrets, one that his friends know to keep and to be wary of speaking about. All secrets are like that but something in Ben's vibe told me it was a stronger connection which meant that this secret was extremely dire and sensitive. As I looked down at Jack, the temptation to remove the covering over Jack's eyes to reveal the truth was calling to me. Despite the feeling, I fought it. I couldn't do that to Jack, and never should I do something so rude in front of one of his closest friends. I'll respect their silence, no matter how much it kills me to keep wondering.
"How long do you think it will take until his wound heals," I quietly asked. Ben scratched his head. "I'm not sure," he answered, "We can't take him to a hospital so he wouldn't receive the better treatment for this. I'd say it'll be a good month, maybe two, until he can start walking again. Hopefully it doesn't take that long, or longer."
My hand squeezed Jack's tightly and my chest tightened. Jack having to lay here for such a long time bothers me. He'll be pretty grumpy until he gets on his feet again. Maybe I could visit him like he visits me. That would probably decrease his stress, at least a bit. Maybe I could also keep an eye on his condition, make notes and receive some sort of reference from somewhere to see if he's progressing or something worse. My mother knows this kind of stuff. She's a neurologist but she has been a surgeon before that occupation. She's trained to know a lot of things about the human body. If I could get her knowledge without making myself look suspicious, I could tell Jeff or Ben or maybe even Elizabeth, if she's even concerned about Jack. We can make sure he gets the right treatment without having to take him to the hospital.
Sounds like a plan.
I smile. I'll try to conjure up some sort of excuse to tell my mother about why I'm asking about impaled objects.
Homework assignment? School project? Add in some other questions to throw off suspicions!
"We're already getting a start," I remarked quietly, a smirk playing on my lips.
"What?" Ben gave me a puzzled look.
A light blush came over my cheeks. "Oh, sorry, I was talking to Sam," I answered sheepishly. Ben's expression softened. "Since when did he come back," he asked.
"He came back before you arrived from my call. He was the one who protected Jack and I from the Corrupted and killed it," I stated.
Ben nodded. "Well, I'm sure that Corrupted didn't know what hit it." He flashed me a smile. "I'm glad to hear that he's back, considering he's special to you. It's about time, too."
A pillow that Jack didn't occupy on the bed was sent crashing into Ben's face. The blonde man stood there looking slightly dazed. I stared. "I don't think he likes you that much-."
"I figured," Ben muttered, matting down his ruffled hair that the pillow disheveled. I smiled and then turned my gaze to my phone to check the time. Six forty-nine. I'll have to get going if I'll get the time to clean myself up and cover up any evidence of the recent happenings.
I looked down at Jack and my heart swelled with longing and care. I leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, one that I hoped he would notice. He stayed sleeping. I gave his hand one last squeeze before walking out of the room. Ben followed behind and closed the door after us. "Can you take me home soon, please," I asked of him. He nodded.
Before I left, I walked into the room I had occupied and found Jeff and Elizabeth talking. Elizabeth looked deadly serious. Jeff seemed aggravated from whatever they discussed. I wondered what it was but I had to stop as they turned my way. "I just came in to grab my backpack," I said and slowly entered the room. Elizabeth stepped out of the way so I could grab my backpack from the corner. I checked to make sure she had taken everything I bought her and all that was left was the new helmet I bought for Jeff. I pulled it out, zipped up my bag and slung it's empty figure on my shoulder. I walked up to Jeff and gingerly handed him the helmet. He looked down at it with surprise lining his dark irises. "I figured you would like it," I murmured, "considering all you have is that ugly pink helmet."
Jeff shifted his gaze from me to his gift and then grabbed it. He turned it over in his hands for a few moments, before stifling a soft chuckle and saying, "Thank you." When he looked up at me, I knew I had done something good by the friendly glimmer in his eyes. It may only last for a short while, but the fact that I can still lift his spirits up means I can do it again. Hopefully I can say the same for everyone else.
"I should get going," I said and started making my way to the door.
"Hey, kid," I heard Elizabeth's voice call and I looked back. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her gaze away. "Thanks for...buying me clothes," she muttered. Even though she stared off with a scowl, I could see the relief in her eyes. I managed a soft smile. "You're welcome," I said. After waiting for a few moments of silence, I figured that conversing was over and I finally left the room.
I found Ben in the main room, waiting for me. "Ready?," he asked. I nodded. He placed a hand on my shoulder and soon the strange sensations of his flickering engulfed my body. When the fuzziness cleared up, I found myself inside my estate, standing in the middle of the foyer. I checked out of a window to see if my mother's or father's cars were outside. The driveway was empty. I still have time.
"Thank you," I told Ben. He nodded and smiled. I added, "I'm sorry we didn't get to discuss plans. Again. But, I want to start coming over to visit. To check on Jack and work with you and Jeff more."
"No problem," he said, "Just call on me whenever you need to."
I nodded. Ben left with a quick flicker and I was standing alone in the foyer. "Today was quite eventful," I sighed.
Quite?
"Well, I guess it was a little more than that."
Really?
I chuckled, and it felt good. I started walking up the stairs to my room so I could start cleaning up. As I hid the tattered backpack in my closet and grabbed new clothes, I struck up an important conversation with Sam. "Why did you leave," I asked. The question has been nagging me for so long, yet the weight it brought onto me doesn't leave. Not until I get the answer. Sam was quiet for a few moments and I could feel a queasy sensation in my gut. Guilt.
I didn't leave technically..
"You were inactive," I rephrased. "Why?"
I didn't mean to.
"You're not answering my question, Sam," I said firmly. The queasiness increased. Sam paused for a few moments and I awaited an answer.
I burnt out.
I furrowed my brow as I entered the upstairs bathroom and locked the door behind me. "What do you mean you 'burnt out'," I mumbled.
I... I wore myself out. I don't know how or why. I couldn't talk to you or risk moving anything because I was weak. As much as I wanted to do and say something, I couldn't.
As he explained, I turned on the shower, placed my new clothes on the toilet seat and started taking my grimy clothes off. "So," I started, "you have been resting the whole time?"
Yes.
I stacked my dirty clothes on the floor and reached to undo my braids. There were soft tugs on my hair when I hadn't even touched it and I stood still as Sam undid my braids.
You have no idea how long I've been waiting to talk to you. To have you talk to me. It's been tough..
The sadness and longing in his voice made my heart ache. A part of me wants to be mad at him, for not being there, for not helping me when I needed his help the most. He's so vital to me, like a beating heart. To have him ignore what happens around me hurts me. But, he didn't want to. The part that sympathizes with him and forgives him for staying idle overwhelms the other. I can't stay mad at him. Concern still fills my thoughts, though. Wondering if he will ever become inactive again. Hoping he doesn't.
"You scared me," I admitted. What do I mean by that? Do I say that because I almost thought he would never come back? Or do I mean the scene he made at the club? Flashes of things crashing against walls and floors, Elizabeth getting beaten nearly to death, and two red glowing dots came to mind, making me shudder. Sam remembers too. How could either of us forget? The weight of his guilt was suffocating. I needed it to stop.
I know my silence was wrong, even if I didn't intend it. Believe me, I tried to do something but I was too weak, too exhausted from my out burst. And I'm sorry about that too. I know I can never really apologize for that. I felt terrible but I couldn't help myself! When you wouldn't listen to me, when you didn't let me help, I got frustrated and I hit my breaking point when you got hit, even though I tried to not let that happen. It was too much and I snapped.
I stared at the water pelting the porcelain bath tub. Steam started covering the mirror above the sink. I cast my eyes down. "So," I started, "it's my fault that you raged and exhausted yourself. Because I was too ignorant."
No, that's not what I'm saying at all..!
"Well, it makes sense," I muttered, "If I had let you deal with things then maybe you wouldn't have freaked out."
Ao, I still would have freaked out because you got hit!
"And I wouldn't have gotten hit if I had listened to you," I said. I glanced down at my stomach, at the bruise that was barely leaving my skin. "Right?"
W-Well..
I stepped into the shower and let the water wash over my skin. My hair was getting soaked and sticking to my shoulders and neck.
Ao..
"Yes?"
It's...it's not your fault..
"It is," I countered.
But-.
"It's fine, Sam. Just let me take the blame," I said.
No!
Something clattered and brushed against my feet. I looked down to see a bottle of shampoo on the tub floor, water pelting the container and making this awful noise. I eyed it for a bit until bending over to pick it up.
I'm sorry.
I opened the cap and put some shampoo on my hand. "It's okay. I needed some anyway," I said, placing the shampoo bottle pack in its spot and then scrubbing my hair.
Ao.
"I understand you don't want me to take the blame," I remarked, "but it makes sense. I was being reckless and rude. If I had listened to you, a lot of bad things wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't have gotten hit. Elizabeth wouldn't have gotten hurt. You wouldn't have freaked out and gone silent for weeks. I would've saved us the trouble if I had just listened."
Well, you're not listening now!
I froze and stared at the tiled wall in front of me.
I didn't mean to make my words sound like everything was your fault. It wasn't. You told me to not interfere and I disobeyed when I raged. I shouldn't have.
"Sam-."
Let me talk!
He threw the shampoo bottle onto the tub again, along with a bottle of conditioner. I flinched.
I'm sorry.
"Stop saying that," I said. "It's not necessary."
Yes it is! I'm sorry. For freaking out. For having left you alone. For staying silent. For never helping you when you needed it. For putting you through withdrawal. For hurting you when I only want to keep you safe! I'm sorry for a lot of things that I wish I could take back.
The guilt that Sam felt churned within me, worsening, and I felt the need to sob.
I'm sorry for being a bad friend. I just want to make everything up to you.
I let the water from the shower head run over my body, carrying away the shampoo suds. I sighed and leaned against the wall. "Sam," I started, looking to the shower curtains, "you don't have to make anything up to me-."
Ao-.
"Because," I continued, "I'll forgive you no matter what. You don't have to prove to me that you're sorry. I know you are, I feel it. Also, you could never be a bad friend. If you were, I wouldn't be so happy when you talk to me and keep me company throughout my life. You're so much more than a friend, too."
I am..?
I chuckled at his ginger tone of voice. "Yes. You're a vital part of me, and I could never hate what keeps me happy." The heavy guilt that weighed my insides started to leave. Breathing became easier. "I forgive you," I added, "so please don't feel upset anymore. I love you."
A warmth enveloped my chest and the sensation of my heart pounding rattled through me.
I love you too...
A tender smile spread across my lips at the way Sam's voice shook.
No hard feelings, right?
I chuckled. "No, we're good."
Okay... Because I want to talk about that kiss you had with Jack.
"Dear lord," I sighed.
Do you not know how awkward that was for me? And when he implied something else? I wasn't thinking food. He didn't make it sound like food!
"Right?!"
Yeah! And he has the nerve to bite you, too?
"I still have the marks," I chuckled and looked at the one bite mark on my upper arm. It was now a pinkish hue.
I can bite him back for you!
"N-No, Sam, that's okay," I giggled.
Are you sure? Because I can throw down!
"Please don't."
After a few more minutes, I finished taking my shower, changed into the new clothes and put the dirty clothes in the washer to get cleaned. As I was putting some detergent into the bin, Sam spoke up.
So, that Elizabeth character is pretty interesting.
"Oh, yeah," I murmured, as I closed the washer lid. I put the detergent away and started walking to my room.
Every time she sees you, it looks like she wants to murder you.
"Well, I have that effect on her," I remarked. "Apparently I'm not supposed to be a part of this proxy system. So far she hasn't tried anything, fortunately."
She's evaluating you, ya know?
I thought back to the look she gave me back at the hideout. Like I was a mouse in a maze. It would make sense that she would calculate me, take mental notes about me. To see my worth to live or to see how easily she could take me down? At the attitude she has toward me, its most likely the latter. "She makes it seem like my death is a good choice to make," I remarked.
Maybe to ensure the success of this proxy system. Or she's being rudely chivalrous for your sake. She did lose an eye and an arm. I can't imagine what else could happen to a proxy...
The thought of losing a limb or a vital part of my own sent chills along my spine. Would she really kill me just to save me? She made it pretty clear that she would kill be because I don't belong. She doesn't seem to hold any remorse, which must've been unlike herself. I wonder how she acted before she "died". Jeff made her sound really nice. Why such a sudden change in character? She lost most of her memories, the things that create a person for who they are. She still has a personality, just a hostile one. She did mention being with other people. They must've influenced her into the way she is. For what reason would they do such a thing is unknown. Well, until Jeff finds them, whoever they are.
"Well," I started, "whatever the case, I'm not going to die because I'm a flaw, and I'm especially not going to die because it's an easier way to escape danger...! I've never been a coward and I won't start now."
There you go! Don't let Elizabeth get to you. I'll make sure she doesn't try anything too.
I smiled and thanked him. I made my way back to my bedroom and curled up on the blue papasan I had in the corner. The estate was awfully quiet but I was glad I wouldn't have to bear it alone. Sam can keep giving me company. I checked the time on my phone. One of my parents should be getting back home in at least twenty minutes. Before I placed my phone aside, a text message popped up on the screen. I checked it and saw it was from a disoriented number. Ben. His text read: Jack woke up.
I sighed. Had I stayed just a little longer and I would've gotten to talk to him. But I was glad. If he's awake then that means he must be feeling okay. He'll have to keep getting a lot of rest though. Another text came in and it was also from Ben. The text said: He isn't in his best sorts. But, he asked for...
I groaned as the text couldn't fully be read. I opened my phone to read all of it. When I saw the rest, I couldn't help but blush. The rest said: ...you. He tried getting out of bed but Jeff and I put him back. Plus he was in too much pain to shift his own weight. He's resting for now but he's grumpy. (๑•́ ₃ •̀๑)
I laughed at the little emoticon and asked him to keep Jack resting, no matter how much the man refuses to be restrained.
Ben replied: No problem, Sheba. This time I'll make sure I don't screw up!
I smiled. Before I could text him back though, he texted again. This one read: He's SUPER grumpy. I think he needs some sweet Sheba love to soothe him. (≖ᴗ≖)
What the hell...?
What the hell indeed. I shook my head as I replied with only one thing: ಥ_ಥ
I wonder what he does with spare time...
"If I wonder then I'll probably get scared," I murmured. I was just about to put my phone down when Ben texted again. I sighed and looked to see what he sent me. It was a picture of him, Jack and Jeff. Ben looked like he was holding the camera and he flashed this charismatic smile for the picture. Jeff looked at the camera as if he was taken off guard, as he stood by Jack's bedside. Jack had his mouth open and, by the way he was posed, it almost seemed like he was going to angrily bite Ben. The caption: Too hot for the club.
I laughed. "Wow," I murmured and finally put my phone down. I rested my head against the plush fabric of the papasan and stared up at my ceiling. I had no idea how tired I was until I started dozing off.
Hey, don't sleep on the papasan. Your back will hurt when you wake up.
"Right," I murmured sleepily and sluggishly slipped off of the furniture. I crawled onto my bed and curled up against some pillows, holding one to my chest. I took my glasses off and lay there for a while, staring around with heavy eyelids. It wasn't long after until I was on the brink of sleep. Before my surroundings could drown out to make way for dreams, Sam started humming the lullaby that I like. With this softly echoing in my head, I knocked out.
After my eyes closed, and my subconscious drowned everything around me, I dreamt of Corrupted. I dreamt of that poor man, bleeding out, as the Corrupted poison coursed through his system. I dreamt of his transformation into something vile, twisted and terrible. He died. Not physically. As a human being, he died, consumed by the darkness of evil. I dreamt of it hurting those poor five people, which might lead into their transformations. More Corrupted invaded my dream.
The beautiful bronco I saw earlier today came in my dreams, grazing peacefully like it did. The loud whine of fear echoed in my ears, followed by the image of its mutilated corpse. Blood painted the dirt road that I traveled upon. Something beautiful was now in shambles. Something once living was now slaughtered before my eyes. I dreamt of the Corrupted, of the fear I felt, of the burning of my chest and legs and the throbbing of my head as I ran from it. The warehouse. My struggle for survival. I dreamt of what would've happened had I not defended myself. My imagination created disturbing scenes and I watched as the Corrupted tore my arm apart and lunged for my head, tearing it from my neck. Or maybe it bit me and I was left to sit on the cracked ground and watch as blackness consumed my skin.
I dreamt of Jack. Of his daring actions in order to ensure a better chance of us living. My imagination took its course again and I bore witness to the Corrupted tearing Jack apart, torturing him, killing him. He called for me. He called for me to help him but I never took one step toward him. Instead I stayed in my spot, frozen by fear and trauma and cowardice. My heart ached as if I was stabbed and I could feel myself crying. I never screamed his name once or cried for him. I dreamt of the Corrupted throwing Jack down and impaling him on that metal stake. His screams echoed in my ears. His blood ran over my hands again but this time it wouldn't stop. It kept coming and in larger quantities. It wasn't long until I lost him forever. I cried and watched my own tears mix with the blood on my hands. I dreamt of what would've happened if Sam hadn't come to our aid. Jack and I would've died or gotten poisoned. It was awful. Blood was everywhere, as was black ooze.
Strangely enough, I dreamt of Elizabeth. Her image was different though. She was reading a book, smiling, looking peaceful. As soon as she looked up at me, my heart stopped at the sight of her blue eyes. She waved at me with her right hand, her real hand. She looked happy and unaffected by the horrors of the duty of the proxy. I wonder if this was how she used to be before everything began. I wanted to revel in her innocence, to embrace her and make sure she doesn't become a victim of her destiny. I was too late though and I watched as her bright smile contorted. She was soon screaming, crying, reaching out for someone, anyone to help her. The ground under her turned into a sea of black and she fell into it. Soon she was drowning, thrashing, screaming even louder. I tried to save her, I tried to pull her free but I could never get close. Her body was getting slicked with blackness and her once beautiful face was now obscured by the substance. After a while, she stopped struggling because of exhaustion and she sunk into the blackness, unable to be seen. I tried to fall in so I could pull her back out. When I could finally move and reach into the dark, murky sea, I found nothing. I pulled my hand out only to have it grabbed my a metal prosthesis. My skin was immediately bruised by the harsh grip and a head arose from the blackness. It painted the face of the figure but it opened one eye which bore a yellow iris with black sclera. Another hand grabbed onto my shoulder and it used me as leverage to lift itself up. A sharp, mechanical whirring echoed in my surroundings and before I knew it, a metal fist came straight for my throat. I had no time to scream.
My head was pounding when I awoke from my nightmares. I lay in my bed, still clutching the pillow to my chest, which was now stained with wetness. I rubbed my eyes and felt that same wetness. Tears. I was literally crying in my sleep.
The sound of faint conversation came from downstairs and when I checked the time (8:45pm), I presumed that my parents were back from work. I wanted to go and greet them but I felt as tired as I did before I fell asleep. I've also missed dinner but after the scenes I saw in my dreams I don't think I could eat anything. I tried going back to sleep but my mind was swimming with thoughts of the nightmares. I can't witness all of that again. I know I'll see it again, I just know it. I don't want to sleep, even though my body begs me to do so.
Are you okay?
I sniffed and got under the covers of my bed. "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, even though I know Sam must know about the nightmares I just had. He might have even witnessed them too. "Sorry to disturb you," I murmured and let my pillows cradle me. My body felt warmer and safer as the covers and pillows hugged me.
You, disturb me? I don't think that's what I'm worried about.
"They were just nightmares," I said, "like the ones I had after the trip with Jeff. I'll get over it."
I'd be lying if I said I was okay with this.
I chuckled lightly. "I know you would." I began closing my eyes again to try and rest. Despite how much I didn't want to, I knew I had to get sleep. Today was a long and hectic day. Nightmares seem to be better than dealing with actual horrors. "Good night, Sam," I said, then noticed how much I missed saying that.
Good night, Ao.
His voice was hesitant, as if he knew I shouldn't sleep too. I had to. Plus, I still have school tomorrow and I need all of the rest I could get. Unless I want to make it clear that everything is not alright, I have to sleep. So I did. I dipped into my subconscious and different images appeared.
...
There was fire. Agonized screaming. Terrible words. Prayers. The proxy symbol.
A poor, grimy looking boy living on the streets. He saw things that could drive people insane, that would send him to the asylum for a lobotomy. No one would believe him, no one would care. The proxy symbol.
A young lady played in a meadow by a lovely Victorian house. Her family watched her feel so happy. Something else watched too, in the shadows. A guardian yet a monster. The proxy symbol again.
A man, wearing a 1920s police uniform, coming home to a loving family of a wife and two children. They all looked so happy. They wouldn't be happy for long. A funeral. The American flag folded neatly on the casket. Other police officers in a respectful formation. The family from before crying, without a husband around. He died at the age of twenty-six. The proxy symbol.
A young musician on the brink of true fame. He was as happy as could be. Women, friends, music, a place in the world. Everything he wanted. But, a different life was kept hidden from that. When he was away from eyes, he would sit and pray desperately. He didn't want his career to end. He didn't want to die because of who he was, of what he would have to do. He hid his troubles from the cameras, from the world. The proxy symbol.
A woman held a little boy's hand. They looked alike. It was her child. There was sadness in her eyes and she hugged him close. He had no idea what she was going through, what she knew, what she was afraid of. That's how it should stay. Later he grew to be a young man, and that was when she fled like she had planned. She left him and he wondered what could've happened to the only person who ever cared for him. But he was safe. The woman went into hiding, taking identities, stealing things, committing murder to ensure she wouldn't have to be damned again. Golden-brown eyes full of nothing but determination. The proxy symbol.
A little girl sitting alone while reading a book in a corner of a large school cafeteria. People made fun of her. She grew up, had few friends yet she was happy. But then something happened. Everything changed for her. Memories of playing in a forest, falling down a creek, a loud crack as her head crashed into a rock. Blood flowing down a beautiful stream. A horrible truth revealed that spawned from that accident. A man with fiery eyes set for destruction holding a hand for her to take. He's a devil, a monster. The girl went through love, pain, death and sacrifice unlike anything she expected. There was a gunshot. The proxy symbol.
Then, there was me.