Author's Note:
I'M BACK BITCHES! I'm just gonna assume that you have all missed me and have been waiting for me to publish something new.
After many YouTube videos and other pieces of fan fiction, I am finally putting my personal touch on the infamous self-sacrifice ending. This is something I've wanted to do for months but I've been waiting for Before the Storm to release all its episodes so I can be as authentic as possible to Chloe's past & personality.
This is hella bullshit. I can't be the only one who notices it, right? I do a doubletake to make sure I didn't miss it. Hard to believe I didn't see it when I was an inmate here. How can Blackwell have handicap parking but not a handicap access ramp? Sorry Blackwell cripples. We can give you adequate space to exit your vehicle, but you'll still have to drag yourself up a staircase if you wanna go to your pretentious art class.
"Time for a reality check Blackhell." I park my old rust bucket of a pick up truck horizontally across both handicap spots, but my one woman protest is put on the back burner once I notice the all too familiar RV parked in front of me. What the hell is Frank doing here? Making house calls during school hours seems like a dumb move. He should know better.
I could use some more weed but I should make what I have last until I have what I need to pay to my debt to Frank. No need to poke that beehive.
Oh. Right. I suddenly remember why I'm here. Not that I could forget.
Nathan seemed like such an easy target when I bumped into him at the bar on Saturday night. I thought I could get at least some of the money I need to pay Frank back, but that Prescott shit head had other plans.
Fucker got me good. I take my eyes off him for one second and he slips something in my beer.
Saturday night's events come flooding back in an unsettling torrent.
Everything's black. I can't move. My head is fuzzy. Hungover isn't the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.
I almost feel dead, but I know I'm not. What the hell is going on?
Two strange noises start to bring me back to the here and now. One is a repetitive clicking and the other sounds like a cry. Hang on. I know that sound. It's a whale singing. It's so peaceful.
The memory of Rachel and I getting baked at the lighthouse last year whilst listening to a similar track lulls me back to sleep. I feel her hand stroking my hair. "Shhh. Go back to sleep" she tells me in a deep whisper. "Follow the whales."
"Rachel." I hear myself say in a soft tone. "I miss you."
She responds, but I can't quite make out what she said. As always Rachel gets her way and I drift.
"Fuck!" An angry voice bellows.
Everything's still black. I can still hear the clicking but the whales have been silenced. It's annoying.
"What am I doing wrong?" The voice asks. "It's the fucking lighting in here."
That sounds like Nathan. Wait, this isn't right. I was supposed to steal some cash of him first chance I got.
"Damn it. Why isn't it like how it was with the virgin?"
A few more of those annoying clicking sounds along with Nathan's words force my eyes to open and the first thing I see is Nathan leering at me through the lens of a camera.
All my senses are sharpened in a nanosecond. Run Price, run!
"What in the name of FUCK!" I shout at as a thrust my foot towards Nathan's balls. I miss and hit his bedside lamp instead. My unforeseen attack stumbles the creep in front of me and he falls back onto his bed giving me a few precious seconds to work with.
Home. I have to get home.
The adrenaline has taken over. I get to my feet and out the door into the dorm halls. Fuck. I have never moved so fast in my life.
The sound of heavy metal from one of the other dorm rooms is drowning out the shouting emulating from Nathan's room. I keep running until the cool air of the Oregon fall tells me I am safe.
Once I am in the parking lot I stop running and hide behind one of the parked cars. I gotta make sure I'm not being followed. Not by Nathan, not by Blackwell security, not by anyone. I take a few deep breaths and count to ten.
Two minutes later I stand up from behind the silver, recently detailed sedan and breathe a gigantic sigh of relief. All clear.
Sitting on one of the concrete pillars that is out of the intrusive gaze of the street lights, I bury my face in my hands and surrender to the inevitable tears.
What the fuck was that? What the fuck just happened?
I cry harder and harder.
I want my Mom. I need her to hug me like she used to.
I want Rachel back. I can't leave Arcadia without her.
I want Max back. I miss being a pirate.
I want Dad back. I just want to be part of a normal family again.
I smash my hands on my steering wheel. "Fuck that!" I put the shitty memory behind me and get into mission mode. After a threatening note left in his car and some not so friendly texting, we agreed to meet in the girls bathroom right after the last class today. That fucker knows why we are meeting. He won't want me blabbing to anyone about this. Time to pay the fiddler asshole.
I flinch at the memory of me standing up for that mother fucker when Drew was giving him shit. Hard to believe that was three and a half years ago. Feels like yesterday. That was a mistake. That bastard's family put Drew's Dad into a homeless shelter with their fucked up business ethics. Fuck the Prescotts. They deserve to suffer.
I open my glove box and admire the revolver I took from Step Dick this morning. Should I bring it with me? After some contemplation I decide not to. I want Nathan's money, not his blood. Plus I don't need it. I have his balls in vice grip already and this is blackmail, not robbery.
I close my glove box and step out of my car trying best to ignore the box of missing persons posters in the back that I had printed up. Damn it Rachel. Where the hell are you? Deciding it's best to focus on the task at hand, I lock up my car and head for the main grounds. I can't help but smile smugly since Hannibal Lector still hasn't painted over the illuminati symbol I drew on the back of one the parking lot signs earlier this year. Although I think most people around here call him Samuel. Fuck that dude. You treat me like Clarice Starling and I will punish you.
Once I reach the main grounds I hear the bell ringing signalling the end of classes for the day. Always the best part of my school days. I take in my surroundings and can't help but take a quick nostalgic journey. The place looks the same apart from the douchey photographs they have put on display for all to see. These shots must have been taken by that photography teacher Rachel told me about. He started teaching at Blackwell in the fall of 2010, right after my expulsion. What was his name again? Marcus? Martin? Marvin? Definitely started with an M.
I wander past the entrance to the pool, or rather the otter's lair. For me, it's the back stage area for The Tempest production. Everyone, including me thought I was gonna fuck it all up but instead I nailed it. Although the best part of the play was turning the tables on Victoria Chase. Even after so many years I still piss myself laughing when I think about her accusing Rachel of taking drugs right before she blacked out, all the while slurring her words and barely being able to keep her footing. What goes around comes around, bitch.
In the distance, just past the doors to the main campus I spy the same table I played that nerdy tabletop game for the first time since Max bailed. I never thought it would be fun to play it again, but I was wrong. Elamon and Callamastia rocked it. I sigh at the fact that I haven't spoken to Mickey since Rachel vanished. As far as I know he still goes here. I should catch up with him when I can. The dude might be a bit lonely since both Drew and Steph have graduated.
Approaching the double doors that lead inside, the first thing I see is old man Wells stepping into his office. Fuck. That was hella good timing. I enter to find Ms Grant with her back to me, she's talking to someone who I assume is one her students which gives me the chance to slip past her. This might be my lucky day.
Ignoring Trevor with a simple nod of recognition, I spot Nathan. Okay Price, time to focus. We lock eyes and I can see the same fire in his eyes that must be in mine. You sick fuck. He jerks his head towards the girl's room and proceeds to head inside without a second glance in my direction. I follow his lead and just as I reach to open the door, I hear a voice coming from the other side. I smirk at what I hear. It's Nathan talking to himself. He's telling himself not to stress and that he's the boss. Fucking adorable. I'm gonna own this fucking freaktard.
I put my game face on and head inside to find Prescott leaning over one of the basins. He seems on edge so I doubt he doublechecked the stalls to make sure we have complete privacy. "So what do you want?" Nathan asks as he tries to steady his nerves.
Disregarding his question, I close the door behind me and start checking the stalls for eavesdroppers. "I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say. Now, let's talk bidness." Just gotta check the last stall and the spot where Lector keeps his shit.
"I got nothing for you" Nathan says with the arrogance of a spoiled brat. Fuck this I'm going for the jugular!
I turn my attention back to Nathan and decide to turn up the heat. "Wrong. You got hella cash."
"That's my family. Not me." Mother fucker wants to play? Then let's play.
"Oh boo hoo, poor little rich kid. I know you been pumping drugs and shit to kids around here." I get beside him and right in his face to let him know I mean fucking business. "I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines now."
"Leave them out of this bitch." Choose your next words carefully you little shit. You're not the only one who is pissed.
"I can tell everybody Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself-"
I shove Nathan which seems to push him even further, but before I can finish my sentence Nathan reaches for something in his jacket. "You don't know who the fuck I am or who you're messing around with!" In the blink of an eye the game has changed. Nathan is volatile and has me at gun point.
Shit. Gun. He's gonna kill me. I'm gonna die. I'm sorry Dad. You would be ashamed of what I have let myself become.
I put my hands up in submission, but Nathan approaches me and presses the barrel to my abdomen. "Where'd you get that? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!" My pleas for mercy do nothing but push Nathan even further. Fuck, fuck fuck! This can't be it. Rachel, Max, all I want is to see the two of you one last time.
"Don't EVER tell me what to do. I'm so sick of people trying to control me!" There is nothing in Nathan's eyes except rage and hatred. I can't talk my way out of this.
I'm sorry Mom. I should have been a better daughter. Please take care of her David. Hate me all you want, but just look after my mother.
I try to plead with Nathan, to let him know that there will be a world of shit waiting for him if he pulls the trigger. "You are going to get in hella more trouble for this than drugs."
"Nobody would ever even miss your punk ass would they?" Nathan's words hit home. He's right.
My attention is suddenly drawn to a girl coming out from behind the stalls. Nathan sees my eyes and knows that we aren't alone. He starts to turn around to face what has caught my eye.
"STOP! Please! Not aga-"
A deafening bang forces my eyes to suddenly snap shut and my ears start to ring.
Amongst the ringing in my ears, I hear Nathan swearing and shouting like a maniac. What just happened? What did I do? What did Nathan do?
I feel someone's hands pushing me and I hit the bathroom tiles with a loud thud forcing my eyes to open. First thing I see is Nathan leaving the bathroom in a state of total panic. During the brief moment that the door is open, I hear shouting, screaming and a stampede of footsteps.
I turn to find a girl squirming in pain on the floor. A pool of blood is already spreading across the floor. Oh God no. I have to help her. This is my fault.
I get to feet and run over to help the poor girl. Oh God, there is so much blood. I kneel down to try and help, trying my best to ignore the blood on my jeans. She won't stop squirming and squealing in agony.
"SOMEBODY HELP PLEASE!" I scream. Surely someone has called 911 by now.
Our eyes meet and I think my heart stops beating. I know those freckles. I know those eyes.
My vison becomes blurry from my tears and I refuse to believe who I am looking at.
"Max?" I don't recognise my own voice. This isn't real, I'm seeing things. She can't be here.
"Ch-Chlo-Chloe-Chloe." Max says weakly between gasps. It really is her. How? When?
"Move your hands Max." I order. Max moves one of hands and touches my cheek and shoulder, smearing blood on my face and jacket.
I take off my beanie, place it over her abdomen and press down hard. She cries in response. "I know it hurts Max. I know it hurts. You're gonna be okay, just stay with me!"
The blood isn't stopping. How do I stop it? What am I supposed to do?
"PLEASE HELP!" I scream again.
"Je-Jef-Jef-Jeff-Jeff-Jeff" Max is pushing herself to stay conscious. Or is she trying to tell me something? Jeff? What does that mean? Who is Jeff?
Her words suddenly cease and there is nothing in her eyes. Just a painful stillness. She's cold and pale. "Max? Max?" I shake her but to no avail. "Don't to this to me Max. Don't to this to me. Not you too." Please let me wake up. This is not happening.
I pull her up, hold her blood smeared body to mine and start to beg God, or fate or anyone who's listening not to take Max Caulfield away from me again. Once was enough.
Author's Note:
It's not the first time I used a moment from The Last of Us and it probably won't be the last. Sarah's death scene makes me cry every God damn time so that's what I'm shooting for.
I couldn't help but make so many references to Before the Storm. I certainly plan to use characters from BTS in future chapters.
Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you stick around for what comes next.
Like many on here, I am always looking to improve my writing skills. So if you have any thoughts on how I can improve, I'm all ears.