Less Than Fantasy, More Than Reality – Chapter 7
Ultima66
He couldn't believe it. He was in bed, the girl he loved in his arms. She was the girl of his dreams, and he was the man of her dreams, if nothing else because she had been tortured her whole life by the world. Was it natural? A relationship developing so fast, almost in a blaze. It couldn't be but it had to be and was at the same time, especially in a world where nothing was natural any more.
Mark leaned forward, reaching his neck around Amy's head and taking in the scent of her hair. It was heavenly. Everything was heavenly. His eyes were closed but they didn't have to be open, so long as he knew where everything was. At least, his everything, and at the moment, everything to him was Amy. Her horn grazed his head, and he had already grown accustomed to it. It was strange to him, in fact, that he didn't have horns, since he had known horns so familiarly by now.
"It's Sunday," Mark whispered into Amy's ear.
"It's been Sunday. We were awake when it turned midnight," she mumbled to him.
"Yes, but now it's Sunday morning. The sun is up," he said.
"Want me to open the curtains? You're more awake than I am," she said, still sleepy.
"I'm tired too. I'm just thinking about you," he said, looking at her dreamily.
Amy got up from the bed and put her clothes on, leaving Mark to fall down into the bed without her body as support. He felt warm and began to lazily drift into sleep.
The curtains opened, letting a glow of yellow light into the room. Mark suddenly realized he was falling asleep again and sat up, shaking his head and squinting his eyes in the light.
"Well, I'm gonna go do my hair and brush my teeth. Get up when you're ready, but don't take too long. It shouldn't take me too long to get breakfast done," she told Mark.
Despite her words, Mark lay back down into the warmth of the bed. The mattress and pillows kept the scent of Amy strong and vivid in his mind, and gave him a sense of warm comfort.
Before he knew what was going on, Amy was yelling at him to get up.
"Mark! I'm already done making breakfast and you're still asleep? I thought you were up already," she said.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have fallen asleep," he said.
He scrambled to get dressed and brush his teeth and get food before it got cold. He thought about the wonderful life he finally had. Then he wondered what would happen if he ever lost it. A shudder of worry began to crawl into his stomach and he had to dispel it by hearing Amy say she loved him.
"Amy, I love you," he said to her. She felt it was pretty strange for him to make this arbitrary comment, then she just decided to go along with it.
"Mark, I love you too," she said to him. Still, the feeling of uneasiness lingered in him. He looked away from her.
Amy paused at this strangeness in Mark. "Mark, are you sure you're alright?" she asked.
He looked back at her, "I'm just fine. Amy, can I be honest with you?"
"Sure, I guess." Worry filled her heart expecting him to say something horrible.
"I've just been thinking. Now that I've finally found you, the one I've been looking for my whole life, I can't help but worry at the thought of losing you. You're a Diclonius, and that means a lot, not to me, but to everyone else," he said.
"Please don't worry," she said, "I can't be happy when you're thinking like this anyways. I want both of us to be happy."
Mark stopped thinking of it, but the morning has still been ruined, the sweet atmosphere broken and forgotten.
The day dragged into the afternoon uneasily. The day was nice, and everything was quiet.
"Mark, you wanna do anything today?" Amy asked him.
"I don't know, what did you have in mind?" he said cautiously.
"I guess we can just stay home and do nothing. Ah, what good is a break from work when there's nothing good to do?"
"Oh, there's got to be something to do. It's not like I can think of a place I'd rather be right now," he said.
"I guess," Amy said, "Still, what do we do?"
"You tell me. It's your house," he said.
"Well, there's not much to do here. I've been really lonely, Mark. I spent most of my time out in the garden, taking care of my lawn and my plants. I watch TV sometimes too," she told him, "And sometimes I'd talk to friends on the phone. I have a few close friends, anyways, not many though."
"Hard to believe. You're a really nice person, you know," he said.
"Nice to you, sure. I'm probably nice to other people, too. I'm just shy and try not to be around people too much, and you know why," she told him.
"Well, I guess you know now what can happen when you open up," he said.
"No, if I had opened up before I'd have gotten arrested," she said. Mark twinged at the mention of it, both of them knowing full well what consequences that offense led to, and it certainly wasn't arrest that bothered them the most.
"Maybe. It's nice that no one but me knows right now," he said to her.
"Well, even when I told you, I was worried about you telling on me," she said, "You remember?"
Mark remembered. She was crying and screaming that even if she was going to have to die for her offense, or at least the crime of being a Diclonius, hardly a real offense at all yet punished by death, she still had to let Mark know that she loved him. And of course she did love him. She had trusted him with her life, allowing Mark to kill her at any time with simply a word, and not caring about the consequences because she wanted to give herself up to Mark, and of course, in return Mark had given his own life to Amy, because once he did not betray Amy initially, he could die for simply having ever known a Diclonius.
"Amy, how about I help you out in the garden, then we just watch TV for a while. Something might come up," he said to her.
"Sure, I'd love to have you there with me," she told him.
They went out to the back of her house and watered everything that needed watering. After a few days of not being attended to, just about everything needed water. Mark had been out here before, but he was just now beginning to admire the beauty of the garden. It was obviously well-kept; he suspected it was because Amy simply didn't have anything else to really do around the home.
There were a few weeds growing in the grass, and they had to pull them out. After they were sure everything was taken care of, they sat around for a while and just talked, sitting down in the grass looking around and admiring the garden.
"It's a really nice place," Mark said.
"I think so too," Amy told him, "I think of it as even better than my home. There's more room to be free here. In the house, some things just have to be in certain places. Here, there's no rules. Everything just goes where I like it."
"That's a nice way to think of it," he said, "As free as anything could ever be."
"Not us," she said, "We're trapped in this society. I hate it. It's so lonely and desolate. I love this garden because there's so much innocent life here. All the plants and flowers and birds and other animals are all my friends, in a world where I can't find any human friends."
"It sounds like you're degrading me," he said.
"I don't mean it like that," she said, "It's just what I've been used to being a Diclonius. Like how when I first told you I was one you were shocked at it even though you loved me. It's just the way the world has brought us up. They tell us to think and behave a specific way, and everything we're doing now is completely going against what we're used to. So of course, we're going to think things that aren't completely true any more, but we can't help it."
"I just wish we could change it though," Mark said.
"I do too. All the Diclonius do. You're one of the few humans that do, and that makes you pretty special. The sad thing is, everyone's just so used to the way things are that it's impossible to ever change them to behave any differently, even if they know what they're doing is wrong," Amy said.
"Maybe we can make a difference," he said to her, "You never know. I'm sure that if we tried, we could do something about it."
"Maybe," she replied. Mark looked over to Amy. He quickly became entranced in her once again.
"Beautiful," he said, looking up into the sky.
"What is?" she inquired.
"You, silly," he said, looking back at her.
"Depends on who's looking," she said.
Mark leaned over to embrace Amy. Her arms reached around him in return, and he quickly felt Amy's body press into his. Before either of them knew what was happening, they were in another deep, long kiss that lasted for what seemed like an eternity.
They broke apart from each other and then walked back inside to get lunch. After lunch and more talking, followed by more kissing, they say down in front of the TV, Amy sitting on Mark's lap and Mark holding her tight.
They watched TV for a while, and before they knew it, over an hour had passed.
A knock on the door signaled for them to check the time, and it was already past 3. Mark looked at Amy.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I wouldn't know. It might be someone trying to sell something to us," she said.
They both walked over to the door. Checking who it was, they spotted a man in a brown coat and hat standing outside, hands in his pockets.
Mark opened the door, and instantly the man outside pulled a gun out of his pocket and pointed it at Mark.
"You're under arrest," he said, "You'll come on out without a fight if you know what's good for you."
"For what exactly?" Mark asked, shocked at this happening all of a sudden and without warning.
"You know exactly what. I was only expecting to make one arrest today, too. Never had any idea there'd be a traitor with her," he said, an obviously hint at why they were being arrested.
It was a shock to both of them. For a minute Amy stared at Mark, wondering if he could have possible told someone, but she had been with him ever since she admitted to him she was a Diclonius, and there was no chance for him to have betrayed her in the first place.
Then it stuck both of them like a load of bricks. When they had gone out in the morning and Amy had forgotten her ribbon, they thought that no one would be up that early. Apparently someone had seen them and reported Amy to the police. It could have been just about anyone, too. Even the ones that she didn't know in the neighborhood still knew where she lived and could provide an address even if they didn't know her name.
"What do we do?" Mark frantically said to Amy.
"Look, there's nothing you can do. Just come along with me. Maybe you we can spare you, if you come along now and agree to say she dragged you into this and you didn't want any part of it," the cop told him.
"There's no way I'm going to do that," he said, "You just don't get it."
"I'll shoot," he responded.
An empty glass flew from the opposite side of the room towards the doorway. It flew between Amy and Mark and out the door, hitting the cop in the head. The glass broke into a few pieces, but it wasn't as hard as it could have been. The cop was knocked unconscious, though.
"We don't have much time," Amy told Mark. She began to run about the room getting things she might need.
"We're just going to run? We can't leave everything behind!" he said.
"No, Mark. We're not leaving everything behind. We have each other, don't we? Look, I know what I'm doing. This has been in the back of my mind my entire life. I've played this out countless times in my head. All that was ever missing was you," she said quietly, "Will you join me or are you going to leave me like everyone else?"
"It's just so sudden. I'm so surprised, Amy. Just a minute ago everything was fine, and now we're leaving?" he said.
"Run. It's all we can do. Right now more cops are coming here. I'm sure they're bringing Hunters, too. Just plain cops don't have the training they need to catch a Diclonius, apparently. I don't want to risk it either way. We have to run," she told him.
They got everything they needed, and then Mark noticed something: the small memorial they had built to Darlene.
"Keep it, Mark. If you're ever in trouble, maybe then you'll find a meaning to it beyond what we know already. You found Darlene. She means more to you than she means to me," Amy said.
Running outside, they got into the car and left, the unconscious policeman still at their doorstep. They got into Mark's car, because they probably had a record of Amy's car and now that she was identified, they would definitely know it's license plate number. At least if they tracked Mark's car, they would have to take the time to make sure that Amy was actually with Mark in his car, since they weren't so sure about Mark being with Amy in the first place.
They started driving out of the city. They knew that as long as they were in a different place, it would be much harder to track them down and the people there would probably not have any idea Amy was even a Diclonius since the police data wasn't that widespread.
Before long, however, a police helicopter began to fly over them, and they could hear distant sirens sounding. Mark looked at Amy, and she looked back with a face of desperation. Her eyes glowed with a sadness he had never seen before in them, and it seemed as if they both knew that this was it.
"I'm sorry, Mark," she said.
"I came this far with you willingly because I love you, and I'll still stay by your side no matter what," he replied.
"I don't want to kill anyone," she said.
"I know you don't, but even if you do I won't look down on you," Mark told her.
"Thank you," she told him.
It was not a good time nor place, but they both reached over to kiss each other, and they didn't let go even when the sirens came close and the policemen stepped out of their cars to get them.
They stepped out of the car side by side, only to be met by a circle of guns.
"Put your hands in the air," one of the policemen said, "Don't move or we'll shoot."
One of the policemen stepped forward with handcuffs. Amy began to tighten up, a look of sudden determination on her face. As the policeman stepped close to them, the handcuffs suddenly flew from his hands and hit him in the head. Before anyone knew what was going on, the policeman's head flew helplessly off as one of Amy's vectors decapitated him.
A burst ran out from every direction, and Mark closed his eyes. Miraculously, the end never came, as Amy shielded them both from the gunfire with her vectors. One by one, the policemen literally came to pieces, limbs and torsos cut and dismantled like simple toys. So this was why humans were always so afraid of the Diclonius. Even someone as gentle as Amy was possible of this immense killing power. Blood was everywhere, and the sight and smell of it sickened Mark.
Mark felt something grab him, and suddenly he flew into the air along with Amy. A deep crack appeared in the concrete where Amy has struck it with her vectors to lift into the air, and the force propelled them like a rocket upwards at an angle. They flew by the helicopter and before he knew it Mark saw the tail of the vehicle come off, the whole thing tumbling towards the ground with flames shooting out of what was left of the back end of it. With another slash of her vectors, the main propeller jammed up and broke off, then it too started falling uselessly to the ground.
It seemed like minutes, but the destruction of the helicopter took under a second. As they zoomed past it, Mark looked back at the heap of destruction Amy had caused singlehandedly, and was stunned at the sight. Then he realized they were almost flying through midair.
"This is insane!" he yelled to her.
"This is an interesting life," she said back.
"I can't believe you really killed all those people," he said to her. She stared back, her red eyes glowing like there was a fire inside. It was almost a look of hatred, and for a minute she appeared to be an incarnation of evil.
"I do what I have to," she said indifferently, "It's not that bad anyways."
"Not that bad? They're human lives, Amy, no matter how poorly they choose to spend them," he said to her.
"Sure they are. If you say-" Amy suddenly screamed and Mark felt her vectors let go of him. They both started to flop towards ground. Mark looked at Amy, and the innocent, gentle look of care returned to her face, hidden under the pain of whatever had hit her.
It was a beam of life coming from behind them. They hit the grassy ground near a small patch of woods with a dull thud, both of them bouncing a little. It hurt like hell, but neither of them felt anything was seriously injured. The Hunters had found them.
Mark realized he had still been holding the box that held Darlene's memorial. He dropped it when he hit the ground, but after looking around for a second he saw it and picked it back up. It was still unharmed, and he was surprised that such a case would withstand a fall like that, even if it was into a patch of grass.
Mark saw a rope with a hook on the end whip towards Amy, and it wound itself around her arm tightly. Amy tried to cut the rope, but for some reason she couldn't. The Hunters stepped forward into view of Mark and Amy.
"Mark! My vectors aren't working!" she cried out in desperation.
"Of course they're not," one of the Hunters said, "That beam disables the use of vectors for a while. You're coming with us."
Amy looked at Mark. He could see in her eyes she knew she was doomed.
"Mark, run! Run away, and don't think about me!" she cried out, "You've still got a chance."
The last words were spoken in a soft whisper, a loving tone that told Mark everything he could want to know. He saw the man who was holding the rope snap it upwards, and Amy flew in towards them.
"Run!" she yelled out for him.
One of the Hunters drew a fist back and landed a hard punch to Amy's face. She screamed in pain, and after a minute of catching her breath, she cried out again.
"Run, Mark. It's all you can do..." she said, weaker than before.
Mark ran. As fast as he could, his eyes closed, tears streaming down from them. The world had taken his world. The love of his life was now behind him, screaming and begging for his safety. He heard another punch land, and Amy screamed again. The last words he heard were the Hunters giving a radio signal to the police for his capture, and then, eyes closed and running, he heard more screams, louder than ever in his mind.
They had taken his everything. There was nothing left. Nothing left. He charged forward blindly with all his strength, pain tearing into his destroyed heart.
Clutching onto the small box for dear life, with tears streaming down his face and his emotions in shambles, he ran.