Let me start off with an apology to any of you who follow me. My laptop has been out of my hands for the last few months, so I couldn't write or post…Well, I could write on my iPod. And I did. And this is the story. So for you guys, this is a peace offering; I give you this so you don't kill me. Deal?
Anyway…I've discovered this show called Psych. And it's amazing; I fell in love instantly! This is not my first written fanfiction for the show; I have plenty more, but they're on my iPod. I'll make them into one of those IPod-music-shuffle things.
I have a lot to say, but I don't want to write a whole page with just notes….I'm digressing. Please do enjoy this story, and please do give me a response. Any response is a rood response, whether it be praise or criticism. I can't improve my writing if I don't get feedback, so give me what you think and I'll give you a pineapple smoothie.
And finally, disclaimers!
I don't own Psych. I don't own characters of any sort besides the ones that I create (which, in this chapter, are all but Juliet I believe).
One last thing. My IPod kinda sucks with stories, and when I copied the email of it to my Word document, the whole outline was weirded out. Just a heads up in case you see anything that doesn't look properly placed
Enjoy!
Rain fell through the sky in small drops. They soaked whatever they touched, ending in dark splotches. The drops touched infernos, dampening the power of the flames as they swallowed the fibers of the buildings until there was nothing but ash that remained. The ground was black as night, topped with the flickering flames and sprinkled with the cool liquid. Smoke filled the air, polluting the sky with a sickening cloud of death. Nothing could survive.
Under the soil, deep underground, people hid. They were safe down below, living in this building. Fortunately they had built this in advance, preparing for the end of the world. Unfortunately the event had come so instantly, very few people made it under, and even fewer survived the illness.
Underground, the walls and ceilings and floors were reinforced by tile and metal. Water gathered on the ceiling, leaking through the fine cracks in the metal. The liquid formed a droplet of water, which clung to the surface until it grew too heavy and fell. It dropped through the dim lighted air, landing on the cheek of an unconscious woman.
Her eyes fluttered from the contact, jerking her from her unconscious state. She looked around the room as her thoughts swam with confusion. Her head throbbed as she tried to recall her life before her. The room was dim, but her eyes adjusted instantly to the light. Before she got up, she heard a voice.
"Do you remember anything?" the voice asked, sounding rough, yet very soft. When he got no reply, he spoke again, "well don't worry, you're still welcome here."
The girl looked towards the voice, catching her eye on a young man leaning against the wall. He looked in his late twenties, but his eyes told her that he had seen much more than other men his age. Something about that aspect felt familiar to the woman. As if she had witnessed whatever trials he had.
The man shrugged away from the wall, "the name's Marc. There's a shower through the door to your left and a fresh pair of clothes. When you're done you can come to the dining room just through the door across from you." He stepped away from the wall.
"Juliet."
Marc stopped and turned to the blonde, "pardon?"
"My name Is Juliet O'Hara. I'm a detective for the SBPD."
Marc looked at her for a second and then smiled lightly, "well at least you made it," and he left the room.
Juliet stood up, using the wall for balance, and walked to the bathroom. It was a rather large and expensively decorated room; the Granite countertop connected to the newly polished white tile walls, holding two sinks. The mirror reflected with spotless perfection, showing the shower in the background; which was entrapped by beautifully designed granite walls.
Juliet gawked at the space for a minute before stepping to the sink. She looked at the mirror and the image before her shocked her. Blood had dried in her hair and on her clothes. Her skin was tinted pink where she had received scratches and bruises. Bandages covered her Right shoulder, left wrist, and her forehead.
Fresh blood still oozed from the wounds, seeping through the gauze and her shirt. Bruises splotched over her arms and neck; the whole image made Juliet sick. The woman in the mirror was not in good condition.
Juliet stared at her reflection; breath hitched, pulse racing. What happened to her? She reached up and ran her trembling fingers over the scratches and bruises on her face. The dried blood crusted under her touch, revealing a more precise image of the damage on her cheeks. What happened to her?
A knock came from the door, bringing Juliet to jump. Her already fast pulse quickened as she looked at the source of the sound.
"You okay in there?" marc asked, sounding genuinely nonchalant. Juliet sighed in relief; Marc's voice calmed her for some reason.
Marc knocked again and Juliet went to the door, pulling it open, "I'm fine. Just about to shower."
"Okay," he nodded, "well we're all getting ready for dinner. I'll save you a seat."
Juliet nodded and closed the door, moving back to the mirror. She took one last look at herself, and then turned the shower on. The water ran through her clotted hair and down her back, sending chills through her spine. She kept her eyes closed the whole time, refusing to see the red-tinted liquid escape into the drain.
As she closed her eyes, images immediately flashed inside her head. Fire. Sickness. Fear. Friends. Dead. Undead.
She quickly opened her eyes, breathing quickly. What kind of sick things had she
Seen? Juliet composed herself and finished her shower. She stepped out, changed into the new clothes, and looked into the mirror. Her wet hair clung to her neck, darkened brown. The clothes were well-fitting to her body, but loose and comfortable. The shirt was a light blue color, matching with her navy blue jeans. They brought out her eyes. Her wide, scared, tired blue eyes.
The air was cool outside of her room. It was brighter in the hall. Juliet squinted as light temporary blinded her. She stepped outside and looked around. Her room was one of many in the hallway. There were at least fourteen others, one across from another, in this narrow passage. Each door was different from the other; they all were painted or decorated with lights and pictures that Juliet guessed matched to whoever had that room. All of them were prettied up; all besides her own. That didn't matter at the moment, though; what mattered was where the dining room was. The only direction she could turn was right, so she walked down the hallway, coming to another single turn; this time to the left. Juliet took the turn, and walked only a few strides until she came to a large open space. The walls in here, as they were everywhere else, were a silver-gray color. The floors were granite white with black specks; it reminded Juliet of pepper on a white plate.
In the middle of the room was a large oak dining table, about the length and width of a limousine. Sitting on top of the table were a dozen plates and cups, accompanied by a dozen sets of silverware. Large bowls and plates of food were resting in the middle all along the table. What Juliet saw were bowls of corn, beans, and a variety of potato chips. On the plate was a fat turkey, seemingly cooked to juicy perfection. The baked bird had Juliet's stomach growling with agitated hunger.
All in all-just like her bathroom- the beauty mesmerized Juliet. She stared in awe for several minutes until she heard the familiar voice behind her.
"Hungry?" Marc asked as he walked up. Juliet remained silent for a minute.
"Where am I?" she asked, looking to the young adult next to her.
Marc crossed his arms and looked around, as if intrigued by the room, "You are in Bulwark. Our Haven beneath Hell."
Juliet, now fully curious, turned to the man, "could you elaborate?"
"Over dinner," marc said with a smile, walking to the table. Juliet was quick to follow and Marc spoke again. "Here you'll meet the gang. They're our friends, our confidants; our family."
As Marc talked, eleven people came out; all varying in ages. They all sat at the table, taking up all but two seats, which Juliet and Marc filled. Marc looked at the group,
"A week ago we witnessed what no one should ever have witnessed. We've experienced a disaster we could only imagine; a disaster only seen in movies...we've seen people die in every direction we turned; we've seen them rise and kill. They grew from groups of two or three to mobs of hundreds at a time. They attacked with the strength of a tsunami...but we fought against them. We fought and we survived."
This encouraged a few nods and a light applause from the group
Marc grinned at this agreement and gestured to Juliet, "Tonight we were visited by Juliet. She was hurt, scared, and alone. We took her in, no matter the risk of infection, and we addressed her wounds. Now she's dining with us for the first time, and that calls for a welcoming."
Marc lifted his cup, which had recently been filled with wine, "we welcome her to our family."
Some cheers broke out, followed by the lifting of eleven other cups. Everyone had their eyes on Juliet; greeting her, assuring her safety, showing her love.
Juliet could only smile at this gesture and mimic their action. Everyone immediately sipped their wine and began setting food onto their plates. Marc chuckled and drank his wine; he set it down and looked at Juliet, "now you get to meet everyone."
Juliet listened as marc talked, introducing each person at the table.
Sitting to her right was a Boy of eighteen. He went by Rem, a nickname his family had given him. His black hair hung in a straight mop around his head, falling just over his eyes. Rem was responsible for the artwork around the building. Next to Rem sat Lucy, his thirteen-year-old sister. Her jet black hair hung low, just past her shoulders, in a wave. She helped with the art, but most of her time was spent reading. Rem was extremely protective of Lucy, and was a big part of her life.
Behind Lucy was Brandon, about mid-forties; he and Melissa-the girl beside him- were in charge of Bulwark. They focused on the stock and supply. Brandon had a noticeable tan, with light brown hair. Melissa was blond, with hair cut to her jaw line. By their linked hands and golden rings, it was a given that they were married. They both smiled at Juliet when Marc introduced them.
The next three were triplets, all sixteen and identical. They were brunette, hazel-eyed, and two of the three preferred to share identities. Two girls had long hair down to their upper back; whereas the third sister had shoulder-length hair, up in a ponytail. The two matching sisters were Anna and Hanna The third sister was Shana, and by the looks of her relationship with her sisters, she enjoyed being thought of as separate from them. The three enjoyed learning how to cook from Brandon and Melissa. They made the Dinner on the table.
Erik sat next to the triplets. He fancied weapons, just as his friend, Tad, did. Both boys of twenty were experienced with guns, worked in a weapon store, and fortunately brought Guns, knives, and plenty of ammo for defense.
This brought Marc to introduce the last adult, and her son. Elizabeth, at her early thirties, was the woman in charge security; she was responsible for the cameras hidden around the building, the alarm system and triggers, and the two trap-doors that would be used in case of an emergency hideout. Her son, who recently turned six, shared her blond hair and pale skin. His name was Benjamin, and he was the world to Elizabeth.
Everyone waved once introduced, and Marc looked at Juliet. "That's the gang."
Juliet looked at en empty chair to her left and Marc nodded solemnly, "we had one more, but he was lost."
"Lost?" she looked at Marc, who was biting his cheek. He only nodded, but that's all Juliet needed to know what he meant. Her thoughts flashed back to the images swirling around her hear in the shower. A shiver shot down her back and she shook her head, looking over to the empty seat. She looked up to everyone at the table. Nobody looked in the direction of the chair; suddenly the ceiling and floors were the most interesting things in the world.
Juliet cleared her throat quietly and lifted her cup, "then to him."
A moment went by before, reluctantly, everyone joined her. Wine was sipped and food continued to move around the table. Not one word more was said the whole meal.