I'm really sorry that I've been neglecting all of my stories on here. Its been a tough couple of weeks, but I'd like to thank AudreyMetalMouth and LadyStrength for listening to me when I needed to talk. You two have really helped me through this, and I'm really grateful. This chapter, as well as any other chapter of any other story I ever write, is dedicated especially to Jane Tyler and Rose Smith, forever my best friends. I know they'd want me to keep moving forward in my life, so that's exactly what I intend to do. Jane and Rose - rest in peace.

Chapter 8 The Final Phase

The gang sprinted out of the building. Adrenaline was pumping through the veins of each terrified teen.

"Faster!" Fred shouted as he ushered his friends as far away from the site as possible. "Duck behind the cars," he commanded, for they had exited into the school's parking lot. It was relatively empty, though there were a few vehicles that would provide sufficient cover from the explosion that was about to occur.

Daphne rushed toward a nearby Ford F150. Just as she was about to dive behind the truck, a deafening bang sounded from behind her. There was a moment of panic before a wall of heat sent her sprawling across the asphalt. Her head struck the pavement, causing her to be temporarily disoriented. After a moment or two, she looked up, but did not want to turn around to see the damage Morte caused.

Instead, Daphne glanced to her left. Shaggy and Velma were lying together in a crumpled heap. Shaggy's arms were wrapped protectively around the small girl in an attempt to shelter her from the blast. The two of them appeared to be unconcious.

Daphne turned now and looked to her right. There was Fred, his face now smeared with dirt and blood. He seemed to be struggling to sit up, though this effort was in vain. His muscular body now appeared so fragile and broken. Daphne noticed that his leg was bent in an awkward position. Perhaps that was the reason he could not seem to move, for it looked terribly painful.

Daphne suddenly felt anger toward the boy. Why did he have to go and be the hero all the time? Fred could have easily made it out of the parking lot before the bomb went off. But he just had to stay back and make sure everyone was out safely before he could even begin to think of himself. He just had to be brave, heroic, perfect. And look where that got him. Instead of being safe and unharmed, he was injured and unable to move.

Daphne lay there for a few more minutes, simply staring at him. Fred's blue eyes were soon locked in her gaze, and neither seemed to be able to look away. His countenance was a mixture of pain and relief. Fred, big, strong, tough Fred, now appeared vulnerable. He had never looked that way before.

For some reason, Daphne wondered how he saw her at that moment. Her red hair was probably slightly messy, though still neatly arranged; her clothes must be rumpled, but they were not torn; and, apart from the bump on her forehead, her body was physically unharmed. But mentally, she was scarred and crippled. Something in the explosion seemed to have changed her.

Daphne felt detached, emotionless. Similar to how Fred had acted the previous day - empty. She knew that her face was expressionless and her eyes had no life left in them. She felt as if all her feelings were being drained out of her as she rested on the ground.

It's better this way, she convinced herself. If you can't feel, you can't get hurt. And all Daphne truly wanted at that moment was for the pain to go away, to abandon her and feast on someone else. She managed to persuade herself to let go of every sentiment and passion that she had left. This solution succeeded in ridding her heart of its terrible ache, though now she was hollow. Still, the tenderness was gone.

As Fred and Daphne stared at each other, time seemed to slow down. But, all of a sudden, Fred's expression changed and everything was moving fast-paced once more. His big blue eyes were no longer pools of pain. Instead, a new emotion was taking over - fear. Fred bolted upright, wincing as his injured leg protested the sudden movement. Daphne observed him, no longer feeling empty. Instead, panic and horror began to pulse through her veins as she realized that Fred was no longer looking at her, but at someone behind her.

After several other futile attempts to stand, Fred looked at Daphne, helpless and desparate. He mouthed the word, "Morte."

Gripped with terror, Daphne began to cry. She found that she was unable to turn around and look that psychopath in the eyes. Instead, she kept her gaze locked on Fred, who had begun crawling over toward them. Daphe gave him a little half-smile despite the situation. They both knew that she was going to be taken, yet he was still trying to rescue her.

Never taking her eyes from Fred, Daphne sensed that Morte was growing closer. A sharp, sudden pain could be felt at her neck, and Daphne soon realized that Morte was injecting her with some sort of tranquilizer. Whatever the stuff was, it succeeded in knocking out the red-head.

"Let her go!" Fred demanded gruffly as Morte began to drag Daphne's unconcious body toward a nearby car. "Do whatever you want to me, but leave her alone!"

Morte merely smiled, her eyes wide and deranged. "But where's the fun in that?" she asked with a chuckle. In one swift movement, Morte scooped Daphne up off the pavement and placed her in the trunk of a Toyota. "Phase Five has just begun," she announced, climbing into the vehicle.

"No!" Fred shouted as the car sped away, taking with it the only girl he'd ever loved. "No, no, no, no, no!"

By now, he'd reached the truck that Daphne had been using for cover from the explosion. Lifting a fist, he was prepared to punch the side of the Ford out of frustration, but a strip of white stood out from the blacktop. Looking down, Fred realized that Morte had left a note for them.

Congratulations on Phase Four
Now you only have one more.
Your school is gone, your girl is too
Honestly, it would suck to be you.
If you want her back, do what I say,
Or she'll not live to see another day.
You'll get orders that must be followed
Or your love won't wake up tomorrow.

-Morte


So, what did you think? I haven't been writing for a while, so I'm sorry if my skills are a bit rusty. It'll take me some time to adjust, so I apologize if this chapter isn't as good as the others. Please review and give me your thoughts.