NOTE! THIS IS A SEQUEL TO MY STORY: "Monster." Please read it first in order to understand this story.
Anyway, after I got some encouragement to make a sequel, I decided to. I really like writing something different like this for a change.
For those of you who have already read "Monster," this begins where the last one ended: Jill had fallen asleep, and that's where we are now...
Disclaimer: Pfft, I wish.
The darkness had consumed her. Swallowed her whole. Comforted her with an hour or two of complete numbness. She was safe. She was tucked away underneath a blanket of emptiness.
The dreams began.
It was the same thing over and over. Even in her sleep, she couldn't escape the horrible creature that lurked in the shadows...the man who continued to torture her. Everything would be so vivid. The images, the sounds, the voices, and the pain: it was all so real. It was like living it all over again.
Over and over.
As the dream began, she twisted and turned, trying to fight it away. She had lost any control she had over her thoughts long ago. Just like her sanity. Just like how she lost her friends.
In a split second, the velvet darkness she took comfort in broke.
SMASH!
The wind was cold. Bitter. Unforgiving.
Glass rained over them as gravity took its toll. A distant call of her name could be heard, but it was barely audible. She knew the voice though, and her heart ripped in two.
As they plummeted to their deaths, she smothered her face into Wesker's back, trying to shelter her eyes from the rocky terrain speeding closer towards them. Her arms gripped his waist tighter. If she was going to die, so was he. For a moment, she took sick satisfaction in the thought that he would meet his end at her hands. She wanted to do it for so long. She wanted revenge so badly.
Craved it.
Yet, in any of their encounters, the memories would hit her even harder and she found herself running dumbfounded in the other direction. She always thought Chris would take him down.
No, she would do it for him. They would die, but Chris would live. That was the most important thing. She saved her friend. All of this would be worth it.
There wasn't much air left between them and the ground. She forced her eyes open, squinting as her eyes watered from the wind. She felt the rain on her skin and watched it fly off Wesker's back. She then watched as bittersweet tears flew away from her eyes just as she saw her end.
Her grip tightened. Her eyes closed.
Thud.
The dream filled in the blurred fragments of her memory. She lied on top of Wesker. He was face down in the mud. They didn't move. They stayed sprawled out in the mud and broken glass, letting the rain soak through their clothes and into their skin. It was eerily silent. The only things that could be heard was the howling wind and the stormy waves crashing against the rocky shore.
As she took in another desperate breath of air, the coldness stabbing at her throat, she found it hard to believe that this man was once someone she truly cared about. He was once her friend. Her eyes didn't open, but they still formed tear that fell from her eyelashes. He had hurt her so much. Why? Why, did he go and betrayed everyone?
Her spine shivered as the dream flickered to happier times. Times where they protected each other.
Not hunted each other down like animals.
Times where she could consider him a confidante.
Not a heartless tyrant.
Times where he would offer her help...place a comforting pat on the shoulder.
Not false pretenses and a life as his slave.
She waited for what seemed like years until she was picked off the cold ground, away from the watery mud and jagged rocks. She could feel the rain, streaking her face as it cleaned off the blood and dirt that covered her body. She was being held carefully. Her bones threatened to shatter.
Like glass.
Grunting. A hoarse voice swore above her as they suddenly fell to the ground. It only took a moment before they were upright again and moving. She was held even tighter.
Dead. Alive. She couldn't tell the difference. She might as well be dead. She kept fading in and out of conscious, desperately trying to get closer to the heat radiating off of her saviour's body. Thunder crackled in the distance. It was silent once again.
He cradled her like a child. Like a porcelain doll with lifeless eyes and bloodied skin. She wanted to look up, see his face, but her limbs wouldn't obey her commands. Instead, her legs, arms, and head hung loosely, her only support being the strong arms that held her. He acted as her life support, the only thing that kept her alive at the moment. She was depending on him.
Depending on his mercy.
With every step the man took, she could feel the pain much more clearly. Her body was partially numb, but the pain was sharp and stabbed her quickly. Violet bruises covered her flesh, stinging more frequently as time went on. Her fractured bones jostled as they moved, and she wanted to rip the pieces of glass and stone right out of her skin. Her mind was disconnected from her limbs, frustrating her to the point of blacking out.
There was a flash of lightning, and as her eyes slowly opened just in time to watch the light streak across the ominous black sky, she saw red eyes glowing dangerously.
Ugly, evil eyes.
She choked on air, swallowed a scream, and let the darkness claim her as its own.
Her saviour was the monster.
Jill...
Why was someone calling her Jill? Jill had been dead for years. Her fractured shell was the only thing left. A disgusting and empty thing that resembled a woman. A puppet.
A puppet that needed a master.
Jill, open your eyes. Wake up.
She didn't understand why she was responding to that name, but she was. The dream slowly dispersed. The voice became clearer.
Chris, is that you?
She knew it wasn't, but she didn't want to let herself know it. The voice beckoned for her again, rich and smooth as velvet.
Blue eyes opened. The coldness of the wooden floorboards shocked her, making her gasp. Her body hitched for breath, but was stilled when she remembered she wasn't alone. The torture had to continue. The circle could never break. Her eyes peered up to meet his. Her pale and disoriented face reflected in his sunglasses. Horror struck.
"What's wrong, Jill?" His voice was always filled with false concern. Everything about him was pretend. Fake. A hideous smirk formed on the monster's face as he leaned in closer to her. "Did you have a nightmare?"
And there you go. Reviews appreciated, as always.
-Kendell