The memories of being chastely kissed by Death have dulled and faded but the memory of escaping Death's choking embrace is forever branded into her mind. She was being lulled to sleep, feeling herself fade away into oblivion and then there was a bright light, but not the ones they talk about in movies. It was hard and bright and violent, overpowering Death itself in the fight for Thea's soul and then suddenly, she could breath again.
Confusion. Fear. Anger.
It all hit her at once, overwhelming her mind with emotion until she finally relinquished control to an unfamiliar force inside her, letting it steer her body like a marionette. The foreign force, whatever it was, was feral and heavy and all consuming in her chest, in the pit of her stomach and had begun rapidly spreading itself until it was downright suffocating. She didn't protest as the aggressive energy violently flowed through her body in a fashion that would give a typhoon a run for its money. She barely had time to wonder where the hell she was or who hated her enough to drape her in this unflattering dress before that dark force, allied with those dark parts of herself that she shoved deep inside in the hopes that neglect would eventually smother them whispered in her ear, so softly and sweetly to scratch the eyes out of the first person she spotted. And it convinced her that it felt good.
Suddenly, there were hands on her, yanking her off but Thea was remorseless with bared teeth, swinging arms and a wild look in her eyes that it made it clear that Thea Queen was nowhere to be found. Luckily for her victim, a man she didn't even seem to know or care enough to recognize, the only thing more powerful than someone fresh out of the Lazarus Pit just so happened to be a high dosage of sedatives.
It was just the pit, Oliver had told himself over and over again but he couldn't brush off that looming feeling that something was dreadfully wrong. Sure, he had succeeded in bringing Thea back but at what cost? Malcolm himself had said there would be side effects, consequences…. But this was Thea. This was Speedy… If there was a chance to bring her back he had no choice but to try, Oliver reassured himself as he rubbed the back of his neck pensively. He would do anything to bring his sister back, even if it meant selling his soul to the devil himself, which, in this case - it did.
By the time she had finally come to once more, she was in yet another change of clothes and in yet another foreign place. Everything felt heavy and hazy, she attempted to sit up but her head lolled back in defiance. "Where.. Where am I?" Thea asked hoarsely, lazily scanning the room which was nothing more than a blur of darkened colors and ultimately, not the most comforting sight. A hesitant hand settling itself on hers gave her the energy to shoot upright, her heavy breaths an indicator of how hard that actually was in her inhibited state.
"Hey, you're okay, you're alright." A soothing voice came to her aid, attempting comfort her by reaching to smooth down her bedhead but as the hand neared she flinched not only out of instinct but because she was threatened. She didn't know him, she didn't know where she was or what was happening and she didn't know why she felt so… Empty.
"I don't know you." Thea stated to the man whose face fell the second she jerked her body away from his.
"Thea it's me… It's Ollie." The man -Ollie- said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Thea blinked in response before shutting her eyes in frustration and grabbing at her own hair as if she was trying to pull out the swarm of confusion and unsteady thoughts out of her brain. When had her thoughts become so loud?
Ollie and another man were quick to restrain her in fear that she'd resorted to hurting herself but that wasn't what they should be afraid of.
It took some coaxing (a sedative that could take down an elephant) to finally get Thea to rest but once she did, things began to make sense.
Her name was Thea Dearden Queen, daughter of Malcolm Merlyn and Moira Queen, sister to Oliver Queen and she should be dead.
However, by the time she had finally realized this, the brunette was already looking at (what she had later learned was) Nanda Parbat through an airplane window and while everyone else seemed to be grieving the loss of Oliver, Thea was unresponsive. No, she wasn't "staying strong" and holding back tears as there were no tears to hold back. She thought back to all the times she would chase after Oliver and never let him leave her side or beg him to let her stay up with him and Tommy and the heartfelt memories that should have left her with at least a frown had no effect. She hadn't even felt a pang of guilt for feeling nothing. Once upon a time, she would have be in hysterics over the loss of her only living family member (except Malcolm - she never counted Malcolm) but now the only thing she seemed to feel was that dark sensation, that feral hunger growing and festering beyond her control. And she let it.
Thea had ignored the dozens of calls from Roy and Laurel who both offered their company to comfort her in this "grieving time" but she ignored every call and every text in favor of solitude. No one had even bothered to clean her apartment that seemed to now be forever stained with her blood which was, dare she say, illuminated in the light of the cozy fire place.
This is where the fatal blow had happened.
She almost instinctively reached to brush her fingers over what should have been a lethal gash but what was now smooth, pale skin just like the rest of her.
Oliver just couldn't have just let her die, could he? He just had to go play hero like always and hadn't even taken into account that maybe, just maybe, his choice wasn't always the right one. Taking a dip in the magic hot tub might have brought back her body but it was like her soul hadn't tagged along for the ride. God, hadn't he ever seen pet cemetery? There was something raw and evil pounding against her chest, clawing at her flesh, eager for escape and she couldn't stop it, not even if she wanted to.
"Now, what's a pretty lady like you doing drinking all alone?" A deep voice asked Thea who tossed him a smirk in response, that effortless rich girl smirk she had perfected over five years of snorting away her problems. A smirk that nearly convinced her all was normal, and that Thea was all there.
"Maybe I'm just waiting for a handsome guy to come along and join me." She replied with the crossing and uncrossing of her lean legs, making a show of coyly tucking a short brown hair behind her ear. "Or maybe," she paused, taking a sip of her margarita as her green eyes flickered to the man's face who seemed to be hanging onto her every word. With so many years wasted on dealing with Roy, she'd forgotten just how easy men were. "Maybe, I'm not so interested in the drink but rather what comes after it." she finished nonchalantly.
"Never been much of a drinker myself." The man admitted with a smirk that he might have believed was suave and charming but anyone with half a brain could see the underlying desperate excitement.
In response, Thea hopped off the bar stool, throwing a bill on the counter before sauntering out of the bar - she didn't even have to glance behind her to know this man was trailing her like a lost puppy until she'd finally stopped in the alley outside the bar.
"Out here? You don't wanna go someplace, uh, more private?" The man asked hesitantly.
"My place is a little messy as it is, wouldn't wanna stain anything." Thea shrugged, batting her eyelashes up at him and before he even had the chance of firing back a perverted, half witted reply, she had him by the throat: a knife in her left hand, his throat in her right while her knee rested comfortably right on his crotch. He struggled against the smaller woman but it really didn't make much of a difference and if anything, only magnified Thea's bloodlust. "Wait… A-Aren't you… Aren't you Thea Q-Queen?" The man choked out with the furrowing of his eyebrows. Sure, she had that crazy look in her eyes, but he had seen her on the cover of the local gossip rag mags one too many times to mistake her for anyone else.
"Yeah, I am. And those were some shitty last words." Thea chuckled before slitting his throat. She didn't budge when his blood sprayed all over her skin and the scrap of a fabric she called a dress in fact, she savored it.
For the first time since it had crawled inside of her, the darkness was finally satisfied and surprisingly enough, so was she.
