((Totally Spies does not belong to me. I was simply inspired by Stephen King to write this.))
-x-
When she opened her eyes, it only took a few seconds for Clover to understand that all she had worked for, all the missions, all the classes at school, all her grades… it didn't count anymore. She was screwed.
The news was as easy to take in as was the sight of the red water her body was half-submerged in, and the metallic taste in her mouth. As her hands weakly gripped the sides of the tub she was lying in, her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening.
She tried to get out, dread and fear filling her mind at the sight of the blood-filled Jacuzzi, but the pain was so intense she had to let go. Only then did she notice her arms, with the long, open gashes running vertically all the way up her forearms. Also, there were lacerations on her inner thighs, and a small kitchen knife was at the bottom of the pool.
Out! Out! Out! OUT-OUT-OUT-OUT-OUT-OUT-OUTOUTOUTOUT!
Panicking, she hooked a leg over the side of the tub and used the last of her strength to allow herself to fall onto the cold floor. She could feel the sobs building up, but she was a spy, damn it! She would not cry. But then her eyes fell on the dead body and she knew she was screwed.
Lying on the floor of Clover's bathroom was the corpse of a young man, with long brown hair matted with blood. His cheeks were puffed up horribly, dried blood had left a trail out of his mouth and down his neck, and he had bruises all over. His leg was very obviously broken, judging from the angle it was at, and he was very, very dead.
He had been handsome when he was alive, but Clover was too busy dry-heaving to notice that last tidbit.
She had killed someone. Not just anyone, but someone's son, someone's best friend, hell, maybe even someone's boyfriend!
A strange noise was coming from her mouth. It was high-pitched, and almost reminiscent of a wail. Her hands were flapping back and forth in front of her face, trying to send some air her way before she fainted.
Shut up, a voice said.
Surprised, Clover tried to stand up and run away, that lingering hope in her mind that leaving would solve the problem, but she slipped on some blood and fell back down. She was too drowsy to stand back up.
"Wh-who's there?" she asked, her voice not hiding a shred of how bad she felt.
Shut up, or they'll hear you, came again. It was a deep voice, belonging to a man, but try as she might, Clover could not pinpoint where the sound came from, and she couldn't see anyone.
"They? Who's they?"
Who do you think?
Although she was generally considered to be a vapid girl with boobs but no brains by most of her peers, it did not take her long to understand.
"Sam… and Alex," she breathed, eyes wide.
If they saw this, she did not doubt how terrible the repercussions would be. They were her friends, but some things could be terrible enough to strain, or even snap in two, the cord of friendship that connected them to her. And Jerry… he would probably revoke her status as a spy, and lock her up in one of his own prisons. After all, he had trained her too well to trust her to stay put in a normal jail.
And her mother? Oh, her mother would be so shocked. And ashamed. Clover didn't doubt that one second. Her mother was a proud woman, and had always wanted Clover to be the best. Her mother would be disgusted if she saw her now.
"Oh, god."
She was screwed, she knew it. Her arms came round to hug her body, but even that brought a startled cry of pain from her lips, and her sobs increased.
Focus on what is important. The voice seemed unfazed and uncaring of her state. The floor is dirty.
Clover couldn't help but laugh. Of course the floor was dirty! As was everything else that god-forsaken bathroom!
Together, we can repair this, the voice said. It is early, and his friends probably haven't noticed he is missing yet.
Something warm began leaking out of her legs, the fear too intense for her to control her body. "B-b-b-b-but—" she blubbered.
You have to. The volume increased. You know how they'll react if they see this. You have no choice.
Clover needed help. She could already see their faces in her mind. She didn't know what to do, or why she had been in the Jacuzzi. For how long had she been there? She couldn't even remember what had happened yesterday. Why had she been in the tub? And why was there a… a… a dead guy lying on the floor?
She had to go see someone, someone that could solve this, someone—
You can't tell anyone. No one can help you know. You can only help yourself.
Her whole body was trembling, and she felt ready to collapse soon.
The water.
"Wha..?"
The water, get rid of it.
Machinally, her eyes went to the tub. Her arm came out, and she gripped one of the knobs, and turned it. Immediately, she could hear the noise of the red water going down the drain, away from her.
She felt her body begin to relax, just the tiniest bit.
Take the sponge.
What sponge? she wanted to ask. But at the same time she saw one of her sponges, the cute little pink one shaped like a heart, in a corner, miraculously untouched. While blood had sullied most of what was in the room, there had been a small, innocent part that hadn't been reached by the foul liquid.
She grabbed it, and immediately it began soaking up some of the red liquid on her hand. She stared at it, wondering what to do with it. It was a bit rough, because she had never used it. Most of her sponges were mostly for decorations, and the only one she used was a big blue one, that made her skin softer. She had never paid this one a second thought.
Use it, the voice commanded. Use it and clean yourself up.
Almost by themselves, her lips pursed, and she stole a glance at the body.
No, you first. You need to be clean.
Appearance had always been primordial for her, but with what she had woken up to, her priorities seemed to have changed. As the last of the water sunk out of view, she began scrubbing at her body. She didn't even need to wet the sponge – she was already soaked enough.
Once it was full, she slowly squeezed it and let the liquid drip down into the tub. The process was repeated a few times before she had to pour some water on it to rid herself of the dried remains on her naked body.
She felt uncomfortable, under the scrutiny of the dead eyes of the young man behind her, but at the same time she felt as if the voice was there, watching her, and that was enough for her to speed up until she was finally presentable.
Good. Now go get dressed.
She didn't want to. She couldn't just leave all this mess here, for anyone to find it!
Lock the door after you, if you wish. But this is your bathroom. The others won't have a reason to come here unless you give them one.
Clover felt inclined to open the door leading back to her room and dress herself, but she was filled with the terrible fear of what she had done, and she would rather just clean it all up.
Today was supposed to be a normal Sunday, she thought. With Alex and Sam, she had organized a party that evening and invited a lot of people. She was supposed to take care of the food, while Sam and Alex did the cleaning and decoration. That was how they had agreed to divide the tasks, two days ago.
Now.
She left the red room, taking care to lock the door after her and keep the key on a chain around her neck. A strapless summer dress was what she clad herself in, with the key hidden under it, between her breasts, and she brushed her hair until she appeared almost normal. It was nine in the morning, and Clover was ready.
Grab your purse, and leave the house.
Pushing back the questions that threatened to burst out, she simply obeyed. Alex was in the living room, eating a bowl of cereal. Sam was nowhere to be seen.
"Good morning, Clover," chirped Alex.
"G'mornin'," mumbled Clover. "I'm going for a walk. Don't clean my bedroom or bathroom, I'll take care of that myself."
She felt vaguely betrayed when Alex didn't even question that, and simply went back to her food with a simply "okay".
-x-
Fifteen minutes later found her looking at different carrots, in the Sunday market. The old lady whose wares Clover was examined smiled, and asked what she wanted those for.
"Why d'you ask?!" Clover snarled.
The old lady appeared frightened. "J-just curious, my dear."
"Well don't be," Clover said. She paid for several dozens of carrots and left.
The voice asked her to buy several varieties of vegetables, but internally she was thinking that like the woman, she wanted to know what all that was for. It wasn't until everything was bought that she protested, demanding to know why they were doing this.
We are making soup today.
"Soup?" she asked, a small inkling of understanding in her mind as she walked inside the villa she shared with her best friends and fellow spies.
Yes. There'll be a lot of meat in it, so I hope your knives are sharp.
The beginning of a scream bubbled up, but that was the moment Sam chose to come around the corner, and to see her.
"Hi Clover, what's all that for?" she asked, pointing at the bags full of groceries.
"Soup," Clover said, her voice horribly dry as the realization of what she was going to do set in.
"Woah," Sam exclaimed, a pleased smile on her lips. "You really are taking this party seriously. No crisps or chocolate?"
That was what Clover had said she would buy, when they had discussed about it yesterday.
"Soup is healthier."
"You aren't on a diet, are you? Anyway, Alex and I have finished the cleaning, so we'll leave you to it. We're going to go buy the decorations at the arts and crafts store, alright? It's quite far, but we should be back in a little over two hours."
Alex appeared, a hand brushing through her hair, and the two of them went out, leaving Clover alone.
She set to work immediately, and though time was against her, when her friends came back, her bathroom was spotless, and the soup was nearly finished cooking.
-x-
"Jerry, do you always have to do this so violently? I feel like I broke something," Clover complained, desperately trying to stay calm as Sam finished pushed herself off her.
"Girls, a recent check has shown that a certain Eric Lancer has escaped from our facilities," Jerry began, ignoring her comment. An image appeared of a man that appeared in his late sixties, bald with a thick grey moustache. "It is estimated he escaped early yesterday, and his holding cell is, incidentally, in Beverly Hills. At the same time a young man by the name of Mike Strancer disappeared from his dormitory in Angora High, a few blocks away."
Next to Eric Lancer, the image of Mike Strancer blinked into existence. Clover tasted copper when she recognized him as the one she had woken up next to. Although on the image he was smiling and with a healthy glow that meant blood still flowed, it was unmistakably him.
"But we have a party planned tonight! We don't have time for this," complained Alex. "Can't you send anyone else?"
It took them six hours to find Eric Lancer, but Jerry still seemed disappointed in them. Whether it was because of Alex's comment or the fact that they hadn't found Mike Strancer because he wasn't involved remained to be seen.
-x-
"Hey gorgeous."
Startled, Clover whirled around to see a young man with a dazzling smile eyeing her without even attempting to be discreet. Normally she would have like the attention and flirted back, but her only response was to tug down the sleeve hiding the bandages, and ask:
"So how do you like it?" She inclined her head towards the bowl he was holding.
"Ah," he said, looking down at it. "Yeah, the stew is great."
Clover smiled.
"Thanks, I made it."
-x-
If you like this, I'll write an continuation featuring Alex and Sam, and what exactly happened to the guy. If you don't like it, I'll leave it as it is. It would be a three-shot at the most.