Chapter Three: The First Death

'And what is so intricate, so entangling as death?'

~John Donne

Milena awoke abruptly, grasping the rough sheets around her.

Another nightmare.

Her heart was pounding, and she couldn't seem to think straight. She reached over to the nightstand for a glass of water and the pills she practically needed to survive. They were for keeping her panic-attacks under control, an affliction that she had developed only within the past two years. The nightmares were consistent, all about Viera's death, and occasionally…a man with bright blue eyes. She got up from the bed, threw on her robe, and went down the stairs of the house, to the small courtyard in the back. She pulled out her pack of cigarettes, lit one, and just chain-smoked the night away.

When daytime came about, she washed off the aroma of the cigarettes and carried on her day as it had normally gone, playing with some of the kids, socialising with the other girls, and helping in the kitchens. Still, she could not stop thinking about those dreams that were starting to plague her. It was strange, but she needed to find the person behind the blue eyes. The day soon finished, and Milena started to head back to her bedroom. She walked out of the younger kids' areas—she had just finished talking with Lyda—and down the stairs, noticing January throwing herself all over some relatively gritty-looking man. His clothes were slightly torn, and his face bore just a few minor scars and scratches. It seemed impossible for him to look directly at anything. January was the only girl in the Home that she couldn't stand, as she didn't actually care for the children at all, and flaunted herself around to anyone with a…third leg.

Since she didn't want to be bothered by any of January's antics, she headed over to the bedroom she shared with Gemma and Pippa, a runaway they had taken in a few years ago. She opened the door, expecting to find the two girls chatting aimlessly about one thing or another. Instead, Pippa was crying hysterically, and there was bloody writing on the wall, the letters spelling the only name she had: 'Milena Clothos'.

"Pippa, what's going on? Why is my name written on the wall?"

"You! You killed her!" Pippa screamed, her black hair whipping around as she turned on Milena.

"What? Who? Where's Gemma?"

"Where you left her!" Pippa shouted, pointing at the area behind Milena's bed. She ran out the room, calling for Amber.

There Gemma lay, her red hair messily strewn all over her face. Her eyes were still open, as if, when she died, she was in a state of shock. Her white dress was covered in what looked to be blood and dirt, and there were scratches all over her thin, white body.

Milena was in disbelief. She didn't kill Gemma—she couldn't have. Hell, she had difficulty killing spiders.

Amber soon appeared, followed by some of the children that stayed at the home. Milena watched as more and more people gasped in fear. She noticed that the man January had thrown herself over was also there, his head rising above the majority of the women there. He peered into the room. For the first time, Milena noticed his eyes - bright blue.

"Pippa, call the police. I want to know who did this. I want to know who killed my sister." Amber said, fiercely whispering. As Pippa left, she also noticed the man - who looked much cleaner now - and asked his business.

"Is everything alright?" He asked.

"You have to leave. Right now. You can't be here." Amber said, pushing him back out the door. She turned around and looked at the scene of her dead sister. Amber covered her eyes and mouth as she cried to herself. She was a strong person, and was usually quite guarded when it came to her emotions. The sight of her crying made nearly everyone in the room gasp and shed rivers of lachrymal grief themselves. Wiping a few tears from her eyes, she walked over to Milena.

"I'm not saying that I believe you did it, and I'm not saying that I think you didn't. But for right now, I need you to get that man out of here. There's something about him that I just don't trust." Amber whispered.

Milena nodded and managed her way through, taking the man into the room at the far end of the corridor. She could hear Pippa frantically describing the scene to the police over the telephone.

"Why are you here?" She asked, not frightened by the man. As Amber had been, Milena was suspicious of the man.

"Well, that's kind of funny. I was gonna ask you the same thing." He said in an odd drawl. His baby blue eyes were entirely fixed on her silvery grey ones.

"Beg your pardon?" She responded, sounding a bit confused by his words. The feeling passed quickly. "Who are you?"

"Does it really matter to you?" He grinned mischievously.

"Yes."

"Wesley." He sat down in the wooden chair, leaned back, and stretched back, placing his hands to the back of his head.

"Why are you here?" Milena asked, edging away from the man a bit. There was something incredibly...strange about this man. Who could be so relaxed when a murder just happened?

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Or…you'll have me arrested immediately."

"What if I promise not to?" She asked, oddly intrigued by the man just as much as she was strangely frightened.

"Alright." He didn't break eye contact with the girl for one second. "I'm a trained assassin, out of a brotherhood of assassins called 'the Fraternity'. The reason I've got so many bruises is because I came fresh out of a fight, killing the majority of the Fraternity members in a mill-house, with some…help. Next thing I know, I have no money, no one…and get picked up off the street by a guy I thought was an enemy, but, well, isn't."

"Oh, right." She said, pretending to believe what he was saying. "I'll check you into the Alcoholics Ward immediately." She laughed a bit. It was obvious he had something to drink this afternoon.

"You ever think you've got something that makes you different from everyone else here? Something that makes you unique?"

"Well, sure. I mean, isn't that what every kid's mother tells them to believe?" She laughed it off and turned away from him.

"Yeah, but you don't have a mother, do you?" He asked, her head snapping back to look at him.

"How do you"—

"I've read up on you. You're quite famous to certain people out there."

She laughed again, this time with even more cynicism than before. "Yeah? Like who?"

"The wrong sorts of people. People that want you dead." He told her seriously. "Now, if you come with me, I can protect you. I can help you, and I can teach you all that you're gonna need to know to survive in this world." Wesley paused for a moment. "I

"Who killed Gemma?" She asked, changing the topic. "He's just bull-shitting you. Don't give in." She thought to herself.

"How bad do you want to know?"

"I want whoever he is dead." She responded, her grey eyes flashing at him.

"It's a 'she', for the record." He replied, moving very close to her. "And she is standing right there."

Wesley moved in the same manner Fox had when she found him. He tucked Milena under his arm, handed her a small pistol, and pulled out his gun. January was exactly where he had said she was, her eyes appearing as mere slits of anger.

"January! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Milena cried, feeling that familiar panic attack rise up from somewhere within.

"He saw something that he shouldn't have seen, and I need to make sure he doesn't go off blabbing to someone." She said with a viciously violent grin.

"I need you to shoot that window and then jump out of it as soon as you hear the gun fire off." He muttered to Milena, whose fear was clearly written all over her face.

"I can't do that! I don't shoot things!" She whispered to him, to no avail. In a matter of seconds, his gun did indeed go off. Wesley pushed her towards the window as Amber came running into the room.

"Well, you better freaking learn!" He yelled back at her, firing a shot at January.

"What the hell is going on?" Amber yelled. She ran towards January, who had been shot in the leg. Wesley had his gun fixated on the two women. "Milena? What…What are you doing?" She asked in an almost fearful manner, realising what was going on. "Why would you leave with someone you hardly know?" She asked exasperatedly, trying to find the reason in her grey eyes. "We're your family! We've taken care of you!"

"Amber, I… I'm so sorry." She said, shooting the window. She fell where the glass fell: straight to the ground from two stories up. Her knees were scratched and bleeding from the landing, but she continued running. The man who called himself 'Wesley' was right behind her, telling her to head to the 1964 black Ford Mustang parked towards the side of the abandoned building two buildings down from the orphanage. She followed his instruction, and reached the car first, taking a few breaths in as her panic attack waned within. Wesley jumped inside the car, not starting it immediately-as Milena had expected him to do.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I think so. Just a few scratches." She said, turning her lithe body to him.

"Good. Then, this shouldn't hurt at all." He said, holding a pistol to the right side of her upper torso. He fired the shot.

She slumped in her seat, most certainly looking as though death had overcome her.

I have a feeling I'll be revising this chapter in particular, just because it was written quite early in the morning! (The wonderful hour of three in the morning...)

In any case, dear Wesley's now appeared. How'd you like him? Click on the little review button, and leave me something :)

Lots of love,

x Poppy