This is my first Alex Rider fic, so please enjoy. WARNING – This includes Character Death.
Disclaimer – I own naught but myself and the text following said disclaimer. I don't even own the books; they're all from the library!
Moony
I got in late, later than usual. I entered the flat to find all but the hall and one in the kitchen lights off – my lover had left to the bed then. I closed my front door and locked the deadbolt, the small one on the door, and the chain.
Across the short hallway was the alarm. I turned it on and turned to the kitchen, glancing around and seeing a vase of Forget-Me-Not flowers, the delicate blossoms adding a scent to the room.
I shut the light off and retreated to the bathroom, getting ready for bed, as I had eaten at the airport before I drove home and was hungry no longer.
I swiftly unpacked my bathroom utensils from my small bag and brushed my teeth, before slipping into boxers and an undershirt.
Turning off the light, I quietly opened the door, not wanting to wake my lover in the next room over. I stepped into the hall again and dimmed the light in the center, the switch by the bathroom door for my convenience.
I padded softly down the hall once more and carefully pushed the last door open. By the dim light of a moonless night, I saw naught but a shape on the bed, resting on its side.
I ghosted over to the opposite side of the bed and eased onto the springy mattress. With a kiss on the cheek to my lover, I scooted under the covers, wrapped my arm over their waist, closed my eyes, and drifted into oblivion.
It was late when I woke, the sun shining through the feeble curtains. My eyes were unfocused, but my sense of touch was advanced for such a time of day. My arm was still around my partner's waist, but that was all I needed.
My person had no pulse, and they were cold to the touch on the front, only warmed to the back by my spooning them all night long.
The sleep fled my eyes and I shot up in bed. I looked down and my heart broke. My lover's face was tortured, white, the lips a pale, corpse blue. On the floor was a puddle, dark in color – congealed blood. It had steadily dripped from my lover's arms, where one had been cradled under their head in sleep. And I finally noticed – their throat had been slashed.
Someone had been in my home, and they had killed the last person I cared about.
I looked up from my lover's prone form and saw on the wall a message.
Scorpia never forgives. Scorpia never forgets.
It had been written in blood – my lover's blood – and dripped down the white wall until it finally dried.
Morbid, huh? Okay, the one coming in late was Alex, obviously, and the person in the bed could be anyone your imagination comes up with.
If you like, please review. Flames are welcome, too.
Moony
Edited as of 6/25/09