I am back!
This time this fic is going to be based on the potential events from Alex and Kaiden's departure from Tia Auras, up until Aven's defeat. I'm not going to say much more, but you'll see that there'll be a lot more Dark!Alex in this than what I generally write.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Medoran Chronicles
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Part One
Alex's POV
Something inside this heart has died
She couldn't really recall that much at all, as she washed the blood of Gerald Togen off her hands.
Hesitantly, Alex raised her eyes to survey her reflection that the mirror presented. The stench of blood was pungent, almost near suffocating her. She drew a breath through her teeth, the air hissing past. Her jaw ached from when she'd been grinding her teeth, as she had … as she had …
All she could remember was the splatter of warm blood, Gerald's final rasping breaths as she drew out his life bit by bit, and the white-hot fury that had seized her unlike any other anger Alex had ever experienced.
She looked at her hands, the white sink they were resting on looking so clean and pristine compared to them. Jagged, broken nails with dried blood underneath them, so layered in places that the blood looked black. They resembled more the grotesque claws of some ethereal, deadly creature rather than human hands.
Alex extended her hands back under the stream of cold tap water. Almost immediately, the water that gurgled down the drain was stained almost the precise shade of beetroot juice. The build of nausea at the back of her throat seemed to become heavier; she'd almost expected Gerald's blood to be black, the colour of demons and death and despair, for all the pain and torment he had inflicted on so many others.
But he'd only been human.
Alex carefully kept her eyes trained on her reflection, not allowing her gaze to stray. She knew exactly what they'd find, and yet, could not bear to lay eyes on the sight. She'd stripped down to her underclothes, leaving her outer garments in a crumpled heap in the corner of the bathroom, which were soaked with blood and perspiration. Discarded in the tiny, narrow bathtub was the suit of armour she'd been wearing formerly, the daggers she'd drawn when she'd decided A'enara would provide too quick of a death, now absolutely coated in crusty, dried blood.
She squeezed her eyes shut, not allowing any more of her thoughts to roll across her mind. Stop. Stop. Stop.
Maybe it was the anger or the adrenaline, or both, that completely overcome her body and was resulting in her inability to recall the terrible deed she'd carried out. She hadn't even felt human as she'd done it - she had been a creature of destruction and fire, a walking manifestation of rage and grief, like a monster that had crawled out of the pits of hell. She'd been startled to look into her reflection and see an ordinary teenage girl, not some blazing demonic deity from the nightmares of the damned.
Alex sucked in a shaking breath. Anger. The anger was all she could think about. Apart from Gerald's blood on her hands.
He deserved it, she tried to tell herself. He's done only goodness knows what. He would have slit D.C.'s throat without hesitation. He would have hurt me or Jordan or Kaiden or Declan. He's a lackey for both Aven and Marcus Sparker. He killed William before Bear's eyes.
He held Dad down as Aven's cronies mutilated Mum.
Almost automatically, Alex's hands clenched the edge of the sink so impossibly tightly, she could have sworn she heard a cracking sound. Her eyes were now squeezed shut for the sake of preventing her tears from slipping down her cheeks as she determinedly chanted in her mind, Don't think about them. Don't think about them. Don't think about them.
But despite her efforts of keeping herself together, Alex felt herself tremble, just like every time these past few days her mind had skimmed to her parents' terrible, tragic, brutal fate. Her chest would constrict, her eyes would burn, and the overwhelming weight of grief and guilt would press down on her until she either threw up or broke down. And when she'd encountered Gerald a few hours ago, and he'd taunted her with unspeakable things …
She'd snapped.
Alex still wasn't sure if she'd been too brutal with Gerald, or too merciful. She'd drawn enough blood from him to fill the bathtub her suit or armour was currently resting in. She'd maimed and slashed and beaten and broken until he was little more than a bloody pulp, no longer recognisable as a man. She'd inflicted so much physical pain on him, she was certain that she would soon meet the same grisly consequences from Aven for his favoured Claimling's end.
Don't think about what Aven would do to you, either.
In a vain attempt to clear her head and steady her thoughts, Alex stepped into the shower booth. The luxuriously warm water slid down over her bare skin, the steam gathering above her head, the dried blood washing away with the help of a bar of dillyberry-scented soap.
How was she so unscathed from what she'd just done, when Gerald was now little more than a few generous smears of blood and a mound of butchered flesh?
And he'd put up much poorer of a fight than what she'd expected to. Or maybe it was the almost supernaturally, fury-fuelled adrenaline that had surged from her. But for one of Aven's inner circle, he hadn't been all that spectacular of a fighter. Heck, she'd known even Kaiden to be a more challenging opponent - that was, when he was unleashing his full arsenal of gifts on her.
Goddamn it, Alex, why do you keep thinking about things that unsettle you even more?!
Tears of frustration and … whatever else churning inside her, now melting with the shower droplets on her face, Alex stared up into the showerhead, quickly skimming over the list of people she cared about and their current welfare. D.C. was now tucked away in the safety of the Tryllin Palace. Both the Ronnigan and James families had the highest quality ward protections. Jordan, Bear, Kaiden, Darrius, and everyone else were also hidden by the academy's protective wards.
And just for his additional safety, as well as his own reasons, Kaiden had convinced her to Claim him, back in Tia Auras. Then when they'd gotten back, she'd dropped him at the academy, with him promising to be her eyes and ears for her.
He'd done exactly that, up until Alex had ran into Gerald. And somehow her subconsciousness had entirely blocked him out - cutting out both the telepathic link, and as much as she hoped but knew was impossible, the mirroring of the wounds she'd sustained. Luckily, she hadn't gotten many, and she knew that a regeneration gift he had compartmentalised would have come in handy.
By this point, he'd no doubt be frantic about her. But Alex knew that there was no chance she could allow him into her mind, or direct a Library doorway so he could be here with her. Not tonight of all nights.
Not when her parents' deaths were avenged, in such a way that made her sick to her stomach.
Alex had utterly no idea how to comprehend what she'd done. She'd killed somebody, she'd murdered them. She'd made the decision to purposefully end another being's life, and brutally. She'd broken every promise she'd ever made about stealing another's life. She'd completely destroyed that morale that even Niyx had respected.
She was now a killer, and she couldn't stand the very thought of it.
Alex was doubling over to retch before she'd even regathered her thoughts. There was little in her stomach, so she was dry heaving after a matter of moments. She made a disgusted sound as it slowly oozed down the shower drain, hopping out of the booth and fetching a towel as the water washed it away.
What would her parents think of her?
What would Niyx think of her?
What would her dearest friends think of her?
What would everyone think of her?
Her stomach once again quivered dangerously with the concept bubbling in her mind, but Alex forced the nausea to stay down as she issued a mental command. The Library obeyed, the bathroom now extending out into a suite of sorts. Naked and dripping wet, Alex stumbled into the walk-in wardrobe, so wrapped up in her thousands she didn't pause to marvel at the novelty of a walk-in. There, she found rows and rows of every sort of garment.
She knew that it'd only mess her up even further, if she looked in the reflection and saw only her ordinary self. A teenage girl in jackets and Converse, with a grin and determined eyes. No, a killer did not look like that.
The synthetic was a strange, foreign, almost wiry sensation against her damp, warm skin as she stepped into the onesie. It was a shapeless, baggy item of clothing, one she'd never even spare a second glance at ordinarily. She glanced at a mirror and maybe, in another place and another time, would have laughed at her choice of a fuzzy, bright purple onesie. How some girls went to bed every night in this sort of attire, Alex contemplated dully. She stepped back out into the suite and crossed to the bed, sinking into the impossibly soft mattress.
She wasn't sure if she wanted a companion or not.
But who was there to ask? She'd have to change if she wanted to see Kaiden and save herself the mortification (like he'd ever let her forget about this), and she definitely didn't have the motivation to get up again. Bear, Jordan and D.C. were all out of the question. Xiraxus, as gladly as she'd see him after the separation - well, it would be a bit tricky getting the Library to accommodate his presence. And of course, she didn't have any other family to turn to …
"Soraya," she rasped.
Her Shadow Wolf materialised from nowhere, in the customary explosion of lightning and inky blackness. Her distress was evident within seconds of her appearance; within seconds her wolf was bounding through the air, launching herself onto the mattress besides Alex with such force that she bumped up into the air.
Whimpering and pawing and pining, Soraya continued to fuss no matter Alex's soothing. It took quite a few minutes to calm her wolf down - and once she did, Alex tucked her legs up and curled in her companion's familiar heat, her fine black coat kissing across Alex's cheek as Soraya curled around her. She felt all bundled up, like a baby animal surrounded by its mama.
Comforted by the protecting promise of Soraya's presence, Alex nestled further into her wolf. Despite her reluctance, and the cloud of otherworldly hell overshadowing her, sleep came easily, its gentle tendrils wrapping around Alex and pulling her down …
But murderers do not deserve to rest.
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