Author's Note: Hey guys! This is my first fanfic, so I really appreciate any constructive criticism you have to give! However, flames will be used to burn the Mayor, so I do not suggest them. Thanks!
"I will now seek the highblood, Nepeta. I command you to hide, as we discussed."
"Sure! But there are lots of nuts on the loose out there, so don't stick your neck out and take any big frisks!"
"I will exact caution, even when safety looks to be one-hundred percent assured. Even so… I would like to take the opportunity to say…"
"What?"
"Goodbye."
"...Well, okay, goodbye! But you had better believe I will see you again soon, Equius!"
"Yes, you will."
You stare through the grate over the entrance (or in your case, exit) to the vent in horror. You feel like you are going to be sick.
You can remember all the vents- er, you mean events- that brought you here, but everything seems blurry. You were told to hide, because several of your friends (on the meteor that you are currently calling home) had gone murderous, and your silly moirail had told you to hide behind the gate- or gait, as he said. You had ended up walking down some halls, cheerfully digging around in piles of yarn, tea, and sugar cubes. You had looked over your shipping walls, and fondly gazed upon your OTP (a lovely picture of yourself and Karkitty!). You had eventually entered the vents, occasionally stopping and looking through the grates. Foggily, you remember looking through one that had the words "ARE YOU NEXT?" scrawled on a wall in paint. It only now occurs to you that it probably wasn't paint.
And then you had stopped here, watching through the grate in terror, a scream stuck in your throat, as the scene before you unfolds.
Equius is standing in front of a huge jar, filled with green liquid and something that looks suspiciously like a lusus in it. He is trying to make out the figure sitting at the top, their red glasses glinting. You can hear snippets of their conversation, but only pieces. He thinks the figure is Terezi. You know that they are not.
You are terrified for your moirail; you can hear the other troll's voice growing louder and then abruptly softer, and you know who it is. It's Gamzee Makara. You want to scream, to warn your moirail, but you are frozen.
Then you hear it, two words uttered in a pure maddening rage:
"Kneel, motherfucker."
Gamzee raises a bow (where had it come from?), notches an arrow, and pulls back the string. Aim. And. Fire.
The arrow flies straight and true, ripping through Equius' knee, forcing him down. Making him kneel. The scream that has been lodged in your throat finally managed to break loose, flying from your lungs and piercing the air around you just like Gamzee's arrow. You see Equius' shoulders tense, but whether it is from the pain or your scream, you don't know.
Gamzee strides forward, completely calm, a lazy grin on his face. You could swear that his eyes are glowing red. A faint honking noise can be heard with every step he takes, and you realize what is coming before it happens.
The wooden bow held in Gamzee's hand is snapped in half, connected only by its string. Gamzee slowly wraps the bowstring around Equius' neck, pulling the ends taught, his lazy grin becoming manic.
. . . . . . .HONK.
You hear Equius wheezing, flailing his arms helplessly, clawing at the bow string. And then he slumps backward, falling onto his back with a sickening smile on his face. His eyes meet yours for one second before the life leaves them, and they become simple, cloudy blue orbs.
You stare in absolute horror. Oh jegus, you think. Oh jegus, he's dead, he's gone, he's really gone! Pure fury overcomes you and you fling yourself forward, knocking the grate off of the entrance to the vent. A savage scream rips itself from your throat as you pounce at Gamzee.
He turns, grinning at you, and pulls a pair of clubs from his sylladex. You swipe your own strife specibus at him, going for the kill, but his hand shoots out, grabbing yours and dragging your claws across his face. He keeps that maddening grin on his face the whole time, his blood-shot indigo eyes meeting your tear-filled olive ones.
You tumble to the ground, rolling and managing to stop next to Equius' lifeless body. You sit up in time to see Gamzee's club hurtling toward you, about to bash your think-pan out, sending you to join Equius in the dream bubbles…
...no. No, you aren't doing that, you will not fail Equius like that.
You. Will. Avenge. Him.
You roll to the side at the last second, jumping to your feet. Gamzee scowls at you, not saying a word. Never saying a word.
"Gamzee!" you hiss. You repeat his name over and over again, dodging from side to side as he swings at you. You swipe at him but miss, and he closes the gap quickly, slamming you across the head with a club. You feel the blunt force of it jarring you and something wet is dripping down your face. You taste blood. You blurrily get to your feet, realizing that you have been knocked a good ten feet, your back against a wall. You move forward, swiping again and again and again. You are getting tired and your head is spinning and you wonder how much blood you have lost. But it doesn't matter. Because this fucker has killed your moirail, and you can never, will never forgive that. You look up at Gamzee's face and are surprised to see the sweat dripping down it. His breathing is ragged, and he isn't looking as sure as he was a few minutes ago. He side steps another swipe and looks at you, his eyes narrowing.
"You know, I'd love to stay and play," he says "BUT THERE ARE MUCH MORE IMPORTANT THINGS FOR ME TO BE DOING RIGHT NOW"
He gives you that evil grin again. "See ya later, Kittybitch"
He shoots out a leg, tripping you, and turns climbing up through the vent from where you had come, quickly disappearing into the dark.
"Gamzee!" you scream. "GAMZEE! COME BACK AND FIGHT ME! I'LL KILL YOU!"
You want to follow him but you are suddenly feeling very tired, and you look over to where Equius' body still lay. You limp over to it, unwrapping the bow string from his neck and gently re-arranging his limbs, closing his eyes so that he looks like he's sleeping. His body is cold. You lay down next to him as sobs wrack your body, and eventually fall asleep.
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Somewhere, maybe millions of miles away, maybe hundreds, a man looks up. He has orange-ish skin and brown hair, and is wearing a wrinkled green shirt with a winged sword on it. He is sitting at a computer. You think he has probably been slacking off when he should be working. He frowns, because that is a simply purrposterous idea. Preposterous. He meant preposterous. He gets up and walks over to what looks like a giant TV screen leaning up against the far wall. The screen is divided into four sections, making it look like a strange metal window frame. What a silly TV design. The man disagrees with you, but turns on the screens anyway.
Screen One shows a small alien girl lying on the floor next to- oh dear. Is that a dead body?
The man frowns, wondering what on earth-or rather the meteor- was happening while he was working. There appears to be blood possibly tears.
He turns to Screen Two, which shows another alien, crawling through the vents of a large building, honking softly. He is covered in indigo, olive green, and bl00 blood. Er, blue, not bl00. What a worrying development.
Screen Three flickers to life, portraying yet another alien girl, this one striding down a hallway, chainsaw in hand. Did you say chainsaw? You meant lipstick. She is wearing a lovely purple ribbon around her waist, tied in a perfect bow in the back. She is, unfortunately, ruining that lovely purple bow by bleeding on it, a green stain forming right in the center of her stomach. This does not throw off her image however, because it appears that this lovely young lady is actually a bad-ass-white-magic-user-killing-vampire who isn't going to take any bullshit from anybody, especially not genocidal sea-dwellers, fashion-challenged highbloods, or pirate-roleplaying fairies. It looks like she is heading in the direction of the room from Screen One. The man looks away from that screen and to the fourth and final one.
Screen Four is filled with eerie static. The man smacks the top of the screen a few times, yelling something about "this is how you fix cheap-no-good-televisions, yeah, I'll show you". You think that you will leave him be for now. You really can't stand any more of his strange antics.
Until next time...