Hehehe I listened to a bunch of MS MR music, and I got the idea for this. I have never written a Myrnin-based fanfic before, so this is pretty new. I'm just going to see how it turns out.
Claire wandered through the haphazardly stacked books, nervously looking around. The area was like a ancient storage room, filled and left forgotten. There were things that she'd only seen in history textbooks scattered throughout the books. It was as if the room, more like a large hallway than a room, was trying to unnerve her.
When she reached her destination, Claire stopped. It was a door with bronze bolts. Claire had only seen it once before, since it was in a section of Myrnin's lab that she didn't normally visit. The day she'd seen it, she'd been busy moving books and hadn't looked closely at it. It had been closed then. Today, it was wide open. Claire reached into her jeans pocket and retrieved a small syringe full of the red crystal liquid. I'll probably have to use it, thought Claire grimly.
Entering the room, she looked around. There wasn't much there. Several threadbare chairs, all of which looked like they belonged in a different era. A couple scattered books. And Myrnin.
He didn't look good, not that Claire had been expecting him to look at his best from the devastating state of the lab. Myrnin's dark hair hung over his face, his clothes were torn, and he was curled up into a ball, rocking slightly. The position of the insane. He was muttering something in what sounded like welsh.
Claire hid the syringe behind her back and walked forward. Myrnin didn't look up until she was less than two feet away. When he did, Claire shut her mouth to keep from gasping. His eyes were (luckily) their normal deep brown color, but they had a manic gleam. He was smiling in a very creepy way, and blood stained his lips. There had been no dead bodies, so Claire was a little worried about where he got the blood. Myrnin didn't really seem all that bothered that Claire had found him.
"Hello, Claire,"he said, "You found this room, I see."
"Um, yeah," replied Claire, having no idea whatsoever what to say in a situation like this.
"Where is this room, again?" he asked, and Claire took a step away. This wasn't looking too good. Myrnin stood, stretching.
"In the back of the lab, behind stacks of books," Claire told him, keeping her voice calm. Sometimes talking to Myrnin was like talking to a disoriented, violent dog.
"Oh, I think I hid a dead body there. Why would I be there?"
Claire looked rapidly around, wondering if she had somehow looked over a dead person. Bad move. Claire's head was shoved upwards when Myrnin's hand grabbed her by her hair. His other arm covered her mouth.
"Stupid child," he murmured, "The body would be long gone by now. I haven't been in here in years."
How was I supposed to know that, Claire thought bitterly. He'd never even mentioned this room. Claire couldn't see Myrnin, but she was sure that his eyes were crimson by now. She couldn't pull away. If she tried, her neck would be snapped even if Myrnin didn't intend it. She couldn't see behind her, making using the syringe difficult. Claire forced herself not to show the mind-numbing fear that was grasping her.
Well, she had one chance with the syringe. That wasn't much, but it was something.
"Don't yell, please," said Myrnin, breaking the short silence. How could I with your hand over my mouth, thought Claire, feeling the strangest urge to roll her eyes. Being annoyed at Myrnin was helping with the fear. Still, her hands shook, the syringe cold against her palm.
Then she felt Myrnin's head fall to her shoulder, and she knew it was now or never. She shoved the syringe toward where she thought Myrnin was, and felt it finding its mark.
Myrnin didn't make a sound, just shot his head up and froze. His hands fell to his side, letting Claire turn and face him. He had tears in his eyes, not falling yet, but there. He looked ashamed. Claire wanted to feel angry at him, feel that he should be ashamed, but she mostly just felt bad that Myrnin was so...broken. There was no other way to say it.
"I… I am quite sorry. I didn't know what I was doing," he said quietly, "Thank you for stabbing me with a needle."
Even with the sanity-helping drugs coursing through his veins, Myrnin still messed up on words. Claire couldn't help but smile. Myrnin didn't smile back, but he looked less teary.
"You're forgiven," Claire told him, "Just don't skip the crystals and go on a runabout ever again." She gave him a look that plainly said I'm serious.
"Of course," he chided, as if Claire's request had been ridiculous. She shuddered. Myrnin never realized that he would mess up again and again, that he would continue to lose his mind and hurt people. That this scenario would replay many times, with many people, and that most of them wouldn't be as lucky or armed as Claire. Now Claire had to cure the vampire disease for them, the random victims. And for Myrnin. He was her friend, after all.
Who knew how twisted a friendship could be?
Lesson of this story; me listening to two hours straight of MS MR and then writing fanfiction ends in weird creepy fanfiction. Oh, well. Review, please!