The violet eyes had a feminine slant to them. Then a flirtatious yet deadly smile, a slight tilt to the head, and suddenly, the large orbs looked light green. A slow blink of the eyes, a flutter of long lashes, and immediately, the color transformed into a sea of gray. Another blink, amber. Another flutter, turquoise. Anoth—NO! No, no, no. Please not again please please stay away from me please go away stop coming to me…
But he couldn't help but be hypnotized by the tantalizing colors, the sparkle, and the morbid sort of gleam to them. He was getting lost in a sea of deep evergreen…NO! Please, please, Amy! Please stay away from me! Get away! I'll kill you!
The voice whisked by in a whisper, not for the first time. You already killed me once, Kabra. Be hard-pressed to do it again, hmm?
The eyes were a shade of pure gold…He…he had to. He had to look away. He had to. He had to. He had to…
But he couldn't. He couldn't do it. He really, honestly for once, couldn't do it. So please, Amy. Stay away from me.
Never, Kabra. Never. A little chuckle, sounding much too light for the dire situation.
The eyes…they were huge, impossibly huge, and suddenly without even another flirtatious flutter of those incredibly attractive eyelashes, the eyes started to transition to every single color of the rainbow. Deep rhubarb to baby pink, yellow slowly melting to blue, purple moving into sunlight to transform into blood red. The last stage of hypnosis. She didn't even need to blink tantalizingly anymore. He was trapped in her gaze and soft white hands…
She was going to control him. He was helpless. She was going to seep into his mind and take control of his body. It was his fault, he supposed. Not that he didn't feel any guilt about it of course. And suddenly, a grip like a vise has gripped upon his entire body. Was this really all in his mind?
It seemed so real. It felt so real. And maybe it was.
Don't feel any GUILT about it? Amy's voice thundered in rage. You killed your own family! You killed Natalie! You killed Ian! I'll kill you!
She was ready. But he wasn't. In his dazed mind, he reached for a gun with fumbling fingers.
Another voice scoffed. Please, father, put that ridiculous thing down. Why I used to shoot people with them, I wonder… Natalie? Save me please take me out of this madness help help help help help! Oh, father…the voice crooned, why should I save you when you so mercilessly shot me?
It's because he's afraid. Another voice. Ian. Son, you know I love you.
No, Cobra! Shut up! You don't know anything…ANYTHING about love! Your witch of a wife killed our parents! Ugh, the infernal Cahill boy, Daniel. It's DAN! Even in death, you Cobras manage to mess that up!
And even in death, you still manage to be annoying. Amusement laces Amy's voice, but the pain is wilder, more intense as if a hundred white-hot knives were being slowly, excruciatingly plunged into his flawless skin.
Please, please stop it, Amy. I'm…I'm…I'm sorry!
Yes, you are. The four figures come into complete view. The only thing different about their bodies is their eyes. All four pairs bore into his panic-stricken orbs. Alizarin crimson, Mediterranean blue, orange like fire, all flickering in their irises. You will do as we say, they chorus, the air around them turning vehement rhubarb. Their faces twist into smiles of revenge, although he notices tears at the corners of Natalie's eyes. Father, how could you?
Dance, female voice echoes in his mind. Dance, Vikram.
No.
Dance. And once more he is face to face with the terrifying dead soul, unable to move his gaze from the transitioning colors.
No…Please.
Dance. The Cahill girl laughs, her eyes twinkling with tiny flecks of silver and gold. The silver vanishes, the gold soon to follow, as the eyes turn violet again…NO! Not again, please not again. Please let me escape from this madness, please. Please.
Dance! The voice is forceful now, but still a whisper.
No, you can't make me.
Yes, I can.
No, you can't.
Oh, Vikram. Ian Kabra's voice was patronizing. Look down at your legs.
No! I'm a Lucian! This is pointless! He refuses to look at his legs. He will not lose hope. The opaque figures fade back into the mist, except Ian. Now he is the one Vikram is forced to stare at, but the terror is all too real. Instead of colors like Amy's eyes, Ian's contains images, pupils disappearing completely. A dead body. Isabel. Another, splattered in blood. Amy. And another. And another. And another so please please stop I'm pleading like this can't you see please bloody stop
But dear father, this is your life, Ian whispers, his voice low. A signature smirk graces his features. Such a coward…
Another pair of eyes appear.
Ian, stop.
Ian doesn't stop, his eyes filling with images of death after death after death.
Ian, I am serious!
Ian doesn't stop.
IAN!
Ian finally, finally looks up at his sister. She is frozen in terror, and her hands are clenched into fists.
Natalie, he hisses in rage. Go, now. I'm not finished with him.
Cobra...has the guy not suffered enough?
Amy laughs, and suddenly, all four of the spirits are in front of him once again. Dan, why so sympathetic? Her eyes are literally tickled pink, a sharp contrast from Dan's purple and Natalie's red ones. The colors float around them, from almost iridescent peach to deep streaks of cloud and sun in a Bohemian Sunrise. The colors are quite beautiful…NO! Not again! He will not break, he will not surrender, he will not give in, he will not lose hope.
Quite ironic, don't you think? Ian has floated over to his sister, That while he destroyed all of our hopes and dreams, he refuses to lose his own.
Quite. Drawls Natalie. She has lost her terror at Ian's torturous behavior, lost in the memories of how Vikram…
It's too painful for the cowardly girl to say, apparently.
Are you happy? Natalie and Ian ask, in a deadly chorus, voices intertwined in a deadly whisper.
Yes.
Are you happy because I am dead and therefore cannot kill you and take your place, as you undoubtedly did to your own treacherous father? Ian, no, I didn't kill him—Stop with the wordplay. You paid someone to murder him.
Dance, Amy's voice tickles his ear, and he jerks backward in his seat, hitting his head. He rubs it resentfully. Never, you stupid girl.
The girl snickers cruelly, the crackling sound a star makes as it plummets its way to certain death. The fissure that paints over the pure resentment and anger that has brought her to him. Look at yourself.
He glares at her, the girl's infernal green eyes transitioning into aquamarine. He tears his eyes away, feeling fogginess seep into his brain. He looks down at himself and sees a terrible scene.
His feet are crumbling away like sandcastles knocked over by an unanticipated wave. No, NO! I'll dance, I'll dance! I will! I will!
Too late, you moron. The Cahill boy is back, sporting a ridiculous black outfit. You're dying. We succeeded.
How? The word formed on his lips but never made a sound as Vikram's soul crumbled and was trodden on into millions of pieces, just like Kronos, chopped into pieces and thrown into Tartarus by his own kin.
Vikram Kabra was discovered in a vegetative state the next morning. And next to his body lay a single crystal drop of a water with beautiful properties. Look one way, it's violet. Look another, it's amber. Look another, it's evergreen. Another, amber. Another, magenta. Another, salmon. Another…
Ha! Made you all think that it was Ian! Mwa ha ha, ha...I'm so evil sometimes.
Well, in this fanfic, Vikram has apparently killed all four of them. And they are avenging their deaths. Sorry if it didn't make sense XD.