WARNING:
All characters and the story upon which this fanfiction is based are property of Dontnod Entertainment and Square Enix. I don't own anything.
As this is my first story to be published here, I will be happy about every reviews - both good and bad as only so I can know what I have to improve. :)
Rated M for crude and strong language at times, violence and mature content.
- Serial Killer-
The first thing her mind vaguely registered when she finally opened her eyes and glanced at the room around was that she actually couldn't move her hands or feet. Somebody had used duct-tape in several layers to keep her from getting up from a chair that was placed in a rather familiar looking room. Then it came to her in a rush. The creepy bunker they had found, the body of the long-dead Rachel Amber, the Vortex Club party, the junkyard… Jefferson had attacked them… a memory of him standing over her popped up in her mind and then there was one other thing – the most important thing to her - Chloe… 'Chloe! Oh God! Where is Chloe? What has happened? No! No!' her mind screamed in agony as somehow the memories started to fall and twist into place. Something was keeping her from focusing and at the same time it felt like she was more focused than ever. 'Wait! This is that fucking place! The Dark Room?' The second thing her mind registered was the music that was playing in the background, at first there were some classical pieces, but then the track changed and instead came a tune she recognised – 'In a house, in a heartbeat' by John Murphy. The third thing she registered was that she had been stripped nearly naked, as she was sitting on the chair with only her bra, jeans and boots on.
"What the fuck?" The rocker-girl muttered at first, her mind a warzone and in utter disarray over what had happened, as she strained her arms and legs trying to break free somehow. "What the actual fuck?!" She yelled, trying harder but failing to get her limbs free nonetheless. On the third try it happened then. With, what seemed to her dazed consciousness, an effort of titanic proportions she managed to get her right foot free. She strained to get the other one free as well, but her left foot seemed to be taped with more care to hold it into place.
Slumping slightly back into the chair, the still half-dazed rocker with brown-red hair took a new look around the room. A camera had been placed right in front of her. Next to it was a trolley with various tools on it – plastic gloves, syringes, something that looked like sedatives and a brand new red binder. Despite the odd angle and the restrains she somehow managed to pull the trolley towards her, by hooking her free foot behind one of its wheels. The photo she saw lying on it depicted her lying on the ground in the very same position as she had seen Kate and Rachel being placed there in the binders they had checked earlier. This shot however was somewhat of a close-up. Just looking at it brought a new pang of pain to her head, as memories of what she had lived through in this and other timelines blurred for a moment, forcing her to relive some of the most traumatic events of her young adolescent life. And with the memories came the rage… She trashed in her seat, but couldn't get her hands or her other foot free.
'I'm going to skin that fucking bastard alive!' She thought as she tried to prevent herself from falling into panic with mixed results. For a moment her gaze lingered on the photo on the trolley, but this gave her an idea. 'No. Strip the flesh and salt the wound – that's what I'm gonna do.' She concentrated on the black and white picture and for a split-second Max could have sworn to hear the photography teachers' voice faintly as her vision grew dim. 'Oh, this is just bloody glorious!' The rocker-gal focused again and this time she succeeded – the voice grew louder and clearer, as her vision turned to white and then…
Then she was there – lying on the ground, with that creepy bastard trying out various angles and taking pictures of her, while muttering.
"This angle highlights your purity, you see?" The older man was kneeling down and snapping a few pictures, before straightening up again, making a few steps and doing the same thing again. "There is roughness in you, but it's all a cover, a shield for your delicate soul, that still has retained its glow in this shut-in sanctity. The slightly unconscious model is often the most open and honest." The photography teacher droned on. "No vanity or posing, just… pure expression." It seemed he didn't mind or didn't care that he was talking to a girl that was basically unable to respond.
As her mind worked through the haze to discern anything that was said and to determine whether she was able to move a single muscle in her body other than her eyelids, she felt the sickening touch of the older man's hand on her leg as he adjusted it to his liking. She understood that she was lying on the ground on the same spot where she had been bound to a chair later. The fact that this creep was actually moving her legs was only a dull, little speck of hope, as the mounting panic of not being able to move at all, as well as some of the gruesome memories of different 'pasts' and 'presents' she popping up in her head, were threatening to overwhelm her.
"Oh Christ… Look at that perfect face." Jeffer-creep breathed heavily as he lined up another shot. She didn't know how she had done it, but somehow the rocker-gal managed to move her head a little bit, as the numb feeling in her body still prevented her to establish if she was actually doing anything. Nearly immediately she felt a numb sting on her cheek and her head jerked backwards.
"Hold that stare there!" The man had just slapped her. "Stay still!" He practically screamed with anger heavily swaying in his voice. He lined up another shot.
It wasn't like she could do anything really, but the slap had brought not only some clarity to her dazed mind, but also ignited the burning rage in her heart and mind. Defiance and pure hatred took a hold of her as she again jerked her head a little just as the psychopathic teacher was taking the shot.
"Oh, Max! You fucked up my shot!" Mr Jefferson yelled in anger, but his tone nearly instantly changed to the oh-so-normal soothing voice he used in class. "But please don't worry. We have all the time in the world. For now." Somehow this much quieter tone managed to make the man appear even more menacing. "I knew you were special the second I saw your first 'selfie'…" He took a couple of pictures, before adding, as if more speaking to himself than her. "Yes, I still hate that word. But I love the purity of your own image. The scars and tattoos only help to highlight the wounded but unbroken spirit in you… Not like Rachel, who was always looking in the wrong places. Poor Rachel. Wait… Let me try this angle."
The girl with brown-red hair could tell by the movement of his feet and shadow, that by now he was standing over her. She tried to kick out at him, but to no avail. Still, it appeared that she had managed to move at least slightly, for again the man with the black glasses moved in to turn her slightly whilst snarling angrily at her not to move.
"Ah. Much… better. Thanks, Max." The photography teacher said almost tenderly as he tried out another angle and shot a couple more photos. "If only Nathan could see this setup." And now there was bemusement in his voice. Vile, silky bemusement, as if he had succeeded where others had failed. "He tried so hard, but you can't just throw a few subjects around and expect a cohesive style or theme… But he had an eye for shadows. And an eye for a whole lot more, as his elite family will find out… along with Arcadia Bay." He stepped in again and turned Max's head a little, still rambling on. "Nice… Good… Oh, those eyes… the intensity of your stare is giving me shivers!" Again he moved and the rocker-gal tried to follow his movements with his eyes, all the while trying to shake off the feeling of numb helplessness and to regain control over her muscles.
"It's just too bad you're so goddamn nosy, Max!" It seemed the psychotic man's mood was swinging constantly between enragement and something like ecstasy. "But this room is under 24/7 surveillance, so all I had to do was text you from Nathan's phone and you fell right into my hands." Again this slimy, sickening tone of pride entered the older man's voice. "You really should have focused on schoolwork… not 'private detecting' with your little friend."
Just as he was saying these last words the rocker with the black nose-piercing managed to regain some control over her body and tried to roll over onto her back. Her mind was racing, repeating only one word and one word only. 'Chloe!'
"What was her name? Chloe? Something along the lines?" Mr Jefferson stood there for a while as if actually thinking about it, but the evil glint in his eyes betrayed the fact that he didn't. "Yeah, I'm sorry that I killed- that Nathan killed her in self-defence." He said with a sneer. "But she had a troubled history like most Arcadia Bay drop-outs… Nobody will be surprised, or care."
For a fraction of a moment their eyes met and despite the situation the teacher unintentionally took a step back. In this split-second there had been something in the eyes of the young woman. Something that made him slightly flinch. It was something he had not expected from one of his 'subjects'. Rachel had been defiant, but this girl here – she was of another calibre.
"I promise people will care when you die tonight, Max." He felt almost compelled to repeat it as if to reassure himself for some unknown reason. "I wasn't lying when I said you have a gift." He hunkered down again. This time around to make a close-up. "Okay. Now this looks good. Maybe a few more close-ups…"
Something felt like snapping inside her. Something that she probably wouldn't be able to mend afterwards. She tried to roll on her back again as the man had turned her before taking the close-ups and strained to reach for her power.
"Max, please do not move so much. I need you posed and framed my way!" The teacher said angrily as he stood up, clearly unsatisfied by the development of the photo-shoot. "Maybe a new dose will calm you down…" He said putting down the high-end camera and walking towards the trolley, before dragging it towards where the young rocker was lying.
"I will kill you." It was the first thing that the young woman had said over this whole time. It came out in a small, but steady and icily cold voice, prompting the older man to turn towards her.
The fact that she had managed to roll onto her back and was speaking to him were indications that the dose he had given her was clearly wearing off, but the calm and composed tone in which she had said, what she had just said, managed to somewhat unnerve him. This was so different from the other 'photo-shoots' he'd taken over the years.
"Now don't move, or thins will… hurt… much." He regained his composure quickly and but he couldn't deny that the look in the young woman's eyes and the surety of her statement were having at least some effect on him. He filled a syringe with the sedatives and was about to align the needle to Max's arm, when the rocker-girl kicked out and sent the trolley crashing into the desk. "Stupid bitch! You just don't listen, do you? In fact, you never did hear much in my class…" The teacher cried out in anger. "If you had, you might have seen all this coming. Goddamn, you are a fighter, though." He leaned in towards the young woman with brown-red hair and continued to speak in a more hushed tone. "I've had my eye on you, and I noticed that you've been more… aggressive and relentless this week than maybe your whole life…" Again there was this glare that gave him somewhat of a pause, but he moved in to give the young woman the sedatives anyways. "You should have remembered my number one rule – always take the shot." He said nonchalantly and then there was only the pitch-black nothingness and the numb feeling.
For one moment everything went white and then the rocker-gal jerked awake. She was still tied to the chair. Her breath came laboriously and her head felt like being split open. Something whimpered on her left and instinctively she turned to see where this whimper was coming from as her mind raced and started to paint all the possible scenarios. But nearly all of them were shattered, when she saw that the source of the pitiful noise was no other than Victoria Chase, who was lying on the ground – bound and dosed, just like she had been.
M-Max? Max? Can you hear me? Oh God, where are we? What's happening?" The young blonde whimpered in a trembling, barely audible voice, as tears were flowing down her cheeks. "I've been trying to wake you up for the last half-hour, but I can't move. Max, I can't move!" It was impossible not to hear the sound of utter panic in the young woman's voice. Only now did Max notice that despite Victoria being unable to control her body, she was slightly shivering and it was clear that it wasn't from the cold. It was pure fear.
"Shit! Goddamn that motherfucker!" Seeing the girl with short blonde hair lying there in that pitiful state just moments after experiencing this herself and being reminded of things far worse from the other 'pasts' and 'presents' that she had had to live through, was enough to bring nearly instant clarity of mind to the young rocker as somehow her anger pierced through the drug-induced haze. 'Hell, even if this Victoria is not the one I remember from the other timelines - she doesn't deserve to end up like this…' A voice in Max's head intoned as she took in the surroundings and the changes that her previous actions and rewinding had caused. "You've been drugged. Like Kate… and me. Do you remember how you got here?"
"No… I don't know…" Victoria chocked down a sob before she could answer. "Wait… You warned me. You warned me about Nathan… A-and I went to Mr Jefferson for help. He was acting so weird… That's the last thing I remember… Max, I can't move my hands! Please, Max, help me! I'm sorry for everything." She cried, but couldn't even draw breath normally as she was lying on a ground tightly bound.
"Listen carefully. Jeffer-shit is the one that kidnapped us. For all I know, he's using Nathan as well." The rocker-girl's voice was laden with unmasked rage, but somehow she managed to say it all rather calmly, but broke off as she was about to say the next sentence. She could feel the pain and rage tighten around her heart, like pitch-black darkness. "He… he killed Chloe… and seemingly Rachel too... I swear that I'll kill that fucker, but we have to get free before he comes back if we want to have a chance of leaving this place alive."
"Max… I just can't believe this is real. I don't want to die like this! I'm only 18!" The visibly shaken girl whimpered.
"I have a plan, but I am in the same position as you, which means we'll need to work together, if we want to get out of here." The rocker-gal said as she strained to get her arms and feet loose.
"Really? How? Max… I'm so scared. How are we supposed to do anything? I can't even move…" The young blonde didn't seem to calm down as despair grasped at her anew. "I can't move…" She repeated barely audibly, as if drifting off – not taking what was happening for the reality it was.
"We need to get loose somehow. I might have been dosed, but I can still break that fuckers' neck if I get my feet free. I'm not going to let that asshole walk away from this alive. Not after-" She caught herself midsentence as her head began to throb and a dull ache set in her chest. She took a slow, steadying breath to focus on the here and now. She couldn't let herself be overwhelmed by what she felt right now. "I need you to be strong. We need to act while we're clearheaded. If that shithead gets us again, we're as good as dead."
"But I'm not strong, Max! I'm pathetic and weak…I-" Victoria sobbed quietly. "I just can't believe this is happening… that Jefferson would do this to me… to us…"
"He is a sick, twisted dipshit!" The rocker with the brown-red hair replied, venom dripping from her voice. "But, we will find a way out of here. And if that happens to be over his bloody corpse – all the better. That I promise." And despite the situation Max's words seemed to somehow soothe the mind of the blonde woman, as she managed a weak smile and an 'I believe you', but this glimmer of hope lasted only so long and Max could already hear her start to cry again, muttering about what she had done to Kate and how she had no clue of what was going on, how cruel she had been to the innocent girl and how she might even deserve this fate.
There was something cold and dark in the young rocker's mind as she looked over the room again, but she supressed this feeling for now, as her eyes fell on a new picture that was lying on the trolley. It was depicting her sitting in the very same chair she was sitting in right now, with a vacant stare, as the picture was taken from an angle that would show her scars in another shade of red that apparently lit the room at the time the photo had been taken. It was nearly without thinking that she focussed on the picture before her, straining her powers to reach into the time, when the photo had been made. Again came the flash of white and again came the headache, though this time her vision cleared nearly instantly as she snapped out of the haze.
"I'm getting some spectacular images here, Max." The psychopathic photography teacher said as she adjusted the camera in front of her ever so slightly. "Yes, Victoria would kill to be in your place, but… she doesn't understand our… connection." Max's eyes fell on the still form of the dosed young woman lying bound on the sofa at the far end of the room, as the man droned on. "You're… the winner, Max. I choose you… your portrait."
"I will kill you." She repeated the exact same words she had said earlier, or had she said it? Was this the same timeline? She felt a slight throb in her head, but didn't pay it any mind. Seeing the man again had been enough trigger all the memories to float up in her mind again. And if before her statement had taken the man aback somewhat, this time she could have sworn that a nervous look shot over his face, but if it had she couldn't be sure as the light was making it hard to look in the direction, where the man stood.
"Oh, but you are trying too hard, Max." The smug, self-absorbed tone returned to the man's voice. "I know you're scared… You don't have the same doe-eyed look, when you woke up here as the others, but I see the façade for what it is. And I see how it is replaced by fear as you realize what's about to happen." He sneered at the young woman. "You see, simply put, I'm obsessed with the idea of capturing that moment innocence evolves into corruption." The photography teacher droned on as he stepped closer and came to hunker down on one knee before the bound woman with brown-red hair. "Of course in your case it's even more fascinating, as you try to hide who you really are behind that mask of rebelliousness and rock attitude. This shift from black to white to grey… and beyond. And despite all, you are not like the most models, which tend to become cynical and lose that naiveté. Like some other Blackwell students, you carry a certain hope and optimism with yourself like… an aura. Just like those lucky few you have become my model… my subject." He was so self-absorbed that he didn't seem to notice how the rocker with the nose-piercing strained against the restrains on her feet and arms. "And nobody will know what has happened to you as they don't know what is happening to you right now. As you can see, Sleeping Beauty here is too harsh for my gentle lens… And don't get me started on your late partner…" The older man said in an annoyed and disinterested tone, as he stepped away from the bound woman to stand next to his camera again. "I had enough of those faux-punk sluts in my Seattle days." He added in a voice that would say 'ew, I stepped into shit'.
"You killed Chloe… You murdered my best friend." Again the rocker with short brown-red hair had a feeling like something in her was about to snap, as she said the words. She strained against the tape that was holding her down on the chair.
"She had a loaded weapon. This was clearly self-defence." The teacher said as if what he'd done was the most normal thing in the world. "But that's what happens when you play with guns… or try to fuck with me. Though I have to admit – your little ambush surprised me there. Had I not been a better shot or more careful, I might have missed and that would have been a real mess, if I'd had to shoot my intended model." The tone of his voice changed from serious to amused and back to a mixture of menace and self-righteousness. "It's better when they don't know… like pure, sweet Kate."
"Before all of this is over, I will cut out your tongue. I hate to hear your voice and it would be bothersome if you'd scream all the time, while I break your bones." There was ice cold menace in the young woman's voice and somehow the teacher got the notion that were she free right now, she'd do exactly that. But, alas, she wasn't and so he had no qualms to tease the bound girl a bit more.
"Oh, but you might as well savour it, considering it's the last you'll hear. Oh… paint me surprised, but you do seem oh-so-calm, but I can still tell, when you grow pale in this light." Jefferson sneered and stifled a laugh. "Too bad you already made a convincing argument against Nathan in the Principal's office. Thank you so much, for setting him up for me. I know the Prescotts are going to have a major scandal when the town finds out what their elite son has been doing for homework…"
"You used Nathan. You used that little fuckturd to do your dirty job." This time it was not the tone of the young girls' voice that gave the man pause, but the glint in her eyes. It was as if she couldn't care less for the young man, who had drugged her friend.
"I prefer the term 'manipulated'. Like with an image… and I have to admit, Nathan's was easy to twist around." 'Talk about sounding perverse.' A voice in Max's head intoned and the rocker-gal couldn't help but sneer at the man standing before her. "I became a sort of father figure for Nathan. It happens often in teacher/student relationships. It was kind of touching for a while."
"Did you even tell him what your plans were at Blackhell, you shit-freak?" The aggressiveness in Max's voice prompted the teacher to cock an eyebrow.
"Don't be stupid, Max. I told him what he needed to hear and in return – voila – I was granted access to the Prescott fortune." He smiled smugly, gesturing around the room with a hand. "Who do you think paid for this glorious dark room and equipment? How else could I get all these hip new drugs for my subjects?"
"Yeah, right! Rachel Amber was your victim, not your 'subject' you twisted bastard." Somehow the rocker-gal had managed to calm her voice, but the hate she felt for the man standing in front of her was burning ever the stronger.
"Oh… Rachel Amber…" The teacher muttered, but if he felt any remorse or sadness his voice or tone didn't betray anything. "That's the real tragedy. Nathan thought he could be an artist like me… Instead, the dumbass gave her an overdose."
"You killed them both… Chloe and Rachel…" The cold fury welling up in the rocker-girl with the brown-red hair was swinging heavy in her voice.
"I'm sure they're fucking together in heaven right now. Happy? Is that what you want to hear?" Spat the psychopathic man in a tone that indicated his disinterest in the lives of the two murdered women. "To be frank – I don't care about that dumb cunt in the least bit. Rachel is dead, but you shouldn't shed any tears. Los Angeles would have killed her anyway. You should actually look at this as a favour." For a short moment the smug expression was back on the man's face, before being replaced by that of nonchalance and disinterest again, when the only reaction he could seemingly trigger from the woman in front of him was a glint of pure hatred in her eyes. "Oh, I see. You think me as the evil one, but we're not so different really. You almost beat Nathan to death. Judging by the way he was having trouble breathing I'd even go as far as betting that you broke at least four of his ribs… It's just too bad he fell in lust with Rachel. He actually thought he could mimic what I do with a camera and subject." The photography teacher droned on, but there was anger in his voice now. "Like father, but not like son…"
"Where is Nathan now?" The rocker-gal asked, though she already could guess by Jeffer-fucks' tone.
"Dead and buried. After what he did to Rachel, I knew I couldn't keep him as a protégé for much longer." The man replied with a shrug. "Now the police will never find his body… Do you finally get it now, Max? I can't compromise my vision with amateurs."
"Says the fucking king-freak of amateurs. Don't make me laugh. Look at the trail of death you left behind." The young girl with brown-red hair shot back with a disdainful glare. "You can't blame all that on Nathan, though I don't really care about that. You're going to die a painful death by my hands, motherfucker. I want you to know that. For Chloe, for Rachel and everybody else."
"I do love your spirit, Max, but you brought yourself here, by your own choice." Jefferson waved a hand in her direction in an annoyed manner. "Anyway, I like my models to be seen and not heard… So I have to make sure that nothing is left behind of you." With that he began to mutter more to himself again, not paying really any mind to the young woman with the nose-piercing, as he walked over to the camera. "Ok, now let's see how these shots came out… I understand why these instant cameras are appealing – you don't need a computer to print out your work. I think… our session was a career high for me."
"Work? Career high? You call that garbage work?" This time Max laughed with scorn, but there was something more in her voice, which the teacher couldn't really put a finger on. It sounded like… triumph? The mere thought of this enraged him for it meant that his work would have really been for naught – he had not been able to break the girl.
"Garbage?! How dare you call MY art garbage? You, whose talent is squandered on useless bullshit like these stupid selfies in your diary? You stupid cunt!" He nearly yelled at the barely clad woman as he threw the girls' diary ungraciously on the ground before her. "Look at that shot, Max! You could do so much better than that, but this is just filth!" With an abrupt turn he walked off towards the printer to see if the photos he'd made had already developed, furious about the impunity this young woman had shown in the face of a greater master of this art than she'll ever be. How could she not see this?
But the rocker with the nose-piercing this was exactly what she had wanted. As soon as he'd started talking she had tried and strained not only against the tape binding her to the chair, but also against the drug-induced haze in her mind, and it had worked. She could use her power again. With the fourth try at the end of their conversation she had go the result and reaction from the psychopathic teacher that she had hoped for. As the diary fell to the ground a page flew open containing a picture. A copy of a particular picture that she had taken just at the beginning of this crazy week. She focused on it and before the unsuspecting teacher could even reach down to turn on the electricity to the printer everything went white.
- Rose-
"Now, Max, as you clearly have interest to join our conversation on the history of portraits after capturing our interest in such a manner, could you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?" The teacher answered in the same annoyed voice as he had done before at the beginning of the week. 'I'm right here again. At the bloody fucking start of this damned week!' she thought, but the sound of the teachers' voice alone was enough to trigger the memories of what now was only one of the possible 'pasts' or 'presents'. For a moment it was like blind rage would take control over her, but she couldn't let it slip. Not now, for she knew this was not a 'complete past' or a 'complete present'. It was just her gut-feeling, but she knew it to be true, for parts of her vision or 'memory' about the layout of the classroom and other smaller details were blurred and as a result they appeared to be blurred in this 'here and now' too. It felt like she was somewhere between the 'here and now' or the various 'pasts' and 'presents'.
"I'm not really into 'capturing' your interest. That's kind of sick, isn't it? But let me ask you a counter question. Have you ever heard the term 'one shouldn't disturb sleeping beasts'?" The question came out as a low growl, dripping with venom and had the teacher not known better, he'd say there was unbound hate in the young woman's eyes, like she'd know something or that something had happened to her.
"Uh… I guess somebody hasn't had their coffee… Do you want to try again?" He inquired, cocking an eyebrow at the girl with the strange glint in her eyes.
"You don't listen, do you?" There was a truly menacing smile on the young rockers' face at the moment she said this and for the first time in many years the man, who had become so self-confident and knew just how ingenious he was, felt something akin to fear. But his thoughts were interrupted, when the young woman with brown-red hair spoke up again. "Daguerreian Process and all that crap, right? Happy now? Or, did I break your concentration on obsessing about portraits? Please, do go on. It's so fascinating." The sarcasm in the young girl's voice was equally balancing with pure disdain and anger.
"I do not appreciate this tone, but let's… Let's move on, hmm? Um… Anyway…-" The teacher went on rambling about the named process until the bell rang, indicating that the lessons were over. Immediately most of the students grabbed their stuff and lest, just as they had before, and just as they had before, Max, Kate and Victoria remained along with the teacher, who was still trying to remind the already leaving students to hand in their pictures for the 'Everyday Heroes' contest.
'Ok. First things first – let's try this approach.' The rocker-gal mused as she picked up her cell-phone and tipped in a quick, but concentrated message to a few people, of whom she knew that they wouldn't let the psychopathic teacher go on with his twisted 'photo sessions'. It was not necessarily what she had intended in the first place, but right now another thing was her main priority and that was her best friends' safety, even if that best friend didn't know anything about what had or would happen. She already could feel her head throbbing, something that was heralding the unbearable headache she'd get after this was over, but she ignored it. It was only now that she noticed the small droplets of blood on her desk. Her fingers came away bloody, when she touched her nose. 'Fuck all of this shit! I don't care what happens to me, but I won't let anything happen to Chloe!' Max thought, feeling the anger well up inside her again. He whipped the blood away. She was already heading for Victoria talking to the teacher, when a kinder voice in her head suggested another option that she should do before unleashing her fury on the young blonde woman at the teacher's desk.
"Hey, Bible-Kate!" This time around her voice had not the cheery tone that she'd used when she'd talked to the religious girl before, but a strong sound of determination and honesty.
"Oh, Max!" the girl weakly replied, the pained expression on her face was nearly enough to send the rocker-gal with the ever growing headache into a fit of rage, but she forced herself to calmly explain to the young girl before her what was on her mind.
"Listen, Kate. I know we haven't talked too much about this, but I want you to know that I'll always have your back. No matter what happens." She took a steadying breath, before she continued. "I know exactly how you feel right now, but where I was, there you are not. You are not alone. I care about you and so do many other people. We all care; we're all here for you. And if push comes to pull – I want you to know that I'll beat the living shit out of anyone that tries to harm you. You need to know that."
"Max… That- That makes me feel so blessed for the first time in this week… I… I don't know what to say…" The young woman said as tears started to run down her cheeks, an expression of thankfulness and slight relief on her face. "Can I-… Could I get a hug?" She asked somewhat shyly and for the first time on that day the rocker-girl caught herself chucking with joy.
"'f course you can, bible-girl." Max smiled as she embraced the other woman for a short but heartfelt hug.
"Thank you, Max. You always know the right thing to do." The religious girl said with a small smile on her face as she let go of the rocker and sat back on her chair again focussing on her studies, but this time with a more life-affirming look in her eyes.
But for Max this precious little moment of joy didn't last long. As soon as her eyes wandered over to the teacher talking to the young blonde with short hair the dull throbbing in her head returned with a greater intensity, making it nearly impossible to concentrate. She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut tightly for a moment hoping that it would help, but it didn't. She felt like a black fog would cloud her mind, partially blurring her vision. Still – there was no time for wishful thinking and hoping that this daze would go away. She had to press on.
"Oh, if it isn't Queen-bitch sucking up to Jeffer-shit here! Oh, my! What a perfect expression! Isn't that lovely?" The rocker-gal rudely stepped in between the young woman and the photography teacher whom she knew to be a psychopath. The stunned and shocked expression on Victoria's face quickly changed to one of annoyance and anger, but Jefferson, who leaned against his desk, seemed to be just annoyed.
"What the hell do you want, Max Caulfield? Can't you see I'm talking to Mr Jefferson now about my portfolio? If you had at least half the decency to listen to the valuable lessons in class your photos wouldn't be total trash." The angry young woman shot back.
"Yes, I see that. But maybe you shouldn't." Just standing in the presence of the teacher in question made her fingers twitch.
"Uh, and why exactly shouldn't I do it?" The young woman with the posh look crossed her arms before her chest. She was about to add something, but the older man beat her to the punch.
"Hold on, Victoria. Are you okay, Max? You seem awfully aggressive today… more so than normally…" He inquired with a voice that would suggest he cared for his students.
"I will be a little better when bitch-face here understands that hiding behind a screen, posting videos of people is incredibly cruel, immature and unfair." The rocker-girl with the brown-red hair said, her eyes still locked on the woman before her. "You are smart enough to know how easy it is to hurt somebody, to destroy their life. Now just for a moment humour me and think about how much it would hurt if somebody did that to you. Or even better, if somebody went even further – making your life a living nightmare, hm? Wouldn't that be great?" The venom in the young rocker's voice was an unmasked hint that even Victoria couldn't pretend not to have heard.
"You can always make the right choice, Victoria. I hate to admit it, but you've got a good heart." Max mellowed her tone somewhat as she went on. She held up a hand to stifle any protest or attempts for response from the girl with the short blonde hair. "You don't have to explain. There is no reason for you to be so insecure that you can't be happy with your own talent and have to make others feel miserable. Just think about it."
"Well, I don't know what you're talking about… Do I, Mr Jefferson?" The young woman with the posh clothes turned expectedly to the teacher, clearly unhappy with the turn of events.
"I think I should stay out of this one, Victoria." The man replied with a slightly apologetic look on his face.
"Then I guess I'm done talking." Said the blonde girl. The expression on her face was that of anger and disappointment.
"Great! So? What are you waiting for? Run along." Max flashed the girl with the wounded pride an evil smile before turning towards the teacher, not paying any mind to the woman that just left the classroom.
"That was kind of random, Max. What do you mean?" The teacher inquired, arching an eyebrow.
"Oh, wouldn't you love to know?" She said as she casually threw a picture on the table on a heap of photographs marked as entries to the 'Everyday Hero' contest. "Was this what you were after?" The picture showed Max from behind to the middle of her back, standing in just a bra, facing the wall of her room that was covered in various black or dark posters of metal and rock bands. One poster however stood out as it had more colour to it and had a text that read 'Rose' beneath the logo of the band 'A Perfect Circle'.
"Oh… That was easy." The man before her seemed slightly surprised and touched, despite the displayed rudeness of the rocker-gal. "Well, I- I can't pre-judge yet, but I'm very happy you decided to enter. That means a lot to me… and Blackwell. The first step for any artist is to put themselves out there in the world without fear. To be… innocent." There was the smug smile on his face that the rocker with brown-red hair had seen so many times before on this day. "Thanks, for the photo. Maybe both of us will be jet-setting to San Francisco this Friday."
"Oh, I highly doubt it." The cold fury in the rocker-girls' gut had finally wrestled control from her mind. She absentmindedly toyed with a pen she had snagged from the teacher's desk.
"Don't be so modest, Max. Anything can happen in a week…" The man replied, still smiling to himself. He was about to reach for the picture to take a closer look, when suddenly a sharp pain seared through his hand. In the shock of the moment he didn't even manage to scream, when with a violent tug the rocker with the nose-piercing ripped out the pen she just had embedded in his right hand.
"It's not about modesty." She spoke in a low, menacing voice that involuntarily sent a cold shiver down the older man's spine, as he clutched his bleeding hand, staring at the young woman in front of him with wide eyes. She looked as if her mind was drifting somewhere and she didn't really register what she was doing, but at the same time there was such clarity and hate in her eyes, that he couldn't really put a finger on. "I just wanted you to know that I'm going to break and kill you. And know what? Nobody will ever notice or wonder. Oh, and, please, be so kind and try to report this. That is – if you dare to."
There was glassiness in her eyes and he could see that her nose was bleeding; still, he was transfixed by the look in her eyes and then he bent over and collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain as without a warning or even a change in the expression on her face the young Muay Thai boxer kicked him viciously in the privates. Before turning away she stepped hard on the man's bleeding hand prompting him to let out a half-audible scream of pain.
"You shouldn't disturb sleeping beasts." She said over her shoulder as she walked towards the door. For a moment it seemed she'd be able to just walk out of the door, but then it happened again, just as it had happened back when she had tried to save the life of her best friends' father.
Max's vision blanked out and for a split second all turned white. Memories, again weirdly ordered as snapshots and pictures, rushed by, changing all the while before settling on something specific, but for some reason it all was blurry and too fast to focus on. The throbbing in her head was nearly too much to bear, but just as she thought she'd pass out, she snapped her eyes open.
"Whoa there! Are you feeling ok, Max?" It was principal Wells, who addressed her with some concern in his voice. It was only now that she noticed that she was clutching the armrest of the plane-seat with such force that her knuckles had gone white. Small black dots clouded her vision somewhat.
"Where are we? What's going on?" The young woman pressed her fingers against hr temples. 'Where is Chloe? What is happening? Shit! I didn't retract the photo from Jefferson's desk!'
"Well, I can believe this is all quite exciting for you. Especially after what happened." The tone of his voice changed form a slightly worried, patronising one to a downright apologetic one. "Had I ever known what Mr Jefferson was in reality… I'm so terribly sorry for all you had to go through. It is brave of you to confront him like that. Your actions probably saved many, many more students from the clutches of that monster. Regrettably, it was too late for poor Rachel Amber, but I promise you, she will be remembered."
This triggered something and the memories of this new 'present' started to click in her head. She had saved Chloe, made a scene and had accused the photography teacher about molesting her. Just as the man had been about to state his side of the story, the police had burst into the principals' office and arrested him for murder, attempted rape, and other crimes. Somehow she had reconnected with Chloe and the two women had rekindled their friendship, although not on the high intensity level as before.
Sure, Chloe had been thrilled to get her old best friend back. They had gone through quite some quarrels and small-time adventures too, but with everything that had happened with Rachel, Chloe just wasn't truly there and Max couldn't bring herself to tell and burden the grieving blue-nette with her own feelings right now… Her own demons had plagued her too, but there was no way in hell that she'd let that rule her. Not, when it came to Chloe. The one she loved so much… Even if it was, for now, from a distance…
And then the jury of the 'Everyday Hero' contest had announced the winner. The rocker-gal had assumed it would have been Victoria, but to her surprise and dismay it had been her. A hastily planned trip to San Francisco had been organised by the Academy and now she was here on a plane, half dazed by everything.
'This is so surreal! I shouldn't be here! I had not intended to be here! I have to be by Chloe's side!' She thought with growing panic and uneasiness. Yes, she had saved her friend, but now was the time she needed to be a strong corner for the young punk-girl, not on her way to some fancy gallery in a different State.
As if on cue her cell-phone vibrated and made knocking noises, indicating that she had received a message. It was from Chloe.
'HOLY SHIT U RULE MAX! i am so proud of my superstar. this is just the start of your career' read the short message.
'Shit! I just know that something is not right!' She couldn't shake off the feeling of dread, regardless of how hard she tried. Her musing was however interrupted by the captain of the plane announcing the arrival to San Francisco.
Again the throbbing in her head returned and her vision clouded. She doubled over in her seat holding her head between her hands. She could hear the principal say something worriedly, but couldn't make out the words. Everything went white again.
And then reality returned with a snap of a camera.
She was standing in the Zeitgeist Gallery in San Francisco and somebody was shaking her hand. She jerked it back. The man in front of her, who had apparently been introducing himself to her, gave her an unsure, quizzical look.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have grabbed your hand like that. My name is Danny Lee and I'm with the Berkeley People's Herald. I edit their art section and I totally dig your work." The man decided to continue where he had seemingly left off. "Now, I know the whole 'ironic selfie' thing is kind of played out, but there's something… timeless about your images. So I'd love to set up an appointment or interview with you when you get a chance. Here's my card… So great talking with you, Max." The man handed her his contact card and with that he was off again.
"What the fuck…" the stunned rocker-gal muttered to herself. Her head felt like killing her. Her vision frequently shifted between clouded and clear. Only now did she notice that she was standing in front of her own picture, which had attracted quite a crowd.
She turned to look at the picture, but as soon as her eyes had wandered to the blue butterfly-tattoo on her arm in the picture a searing, stabbing pain manifested in her head. Instinctively she reached for her upper lip as she could feel a wet sensation there. Her hand came away bloody, as she had expected it would. Nearly instantly the room around her seemed to blur out of form and she felt like she'd fall any moment, but she didn't.
Instead she suddenly was back at the lighthouse, helplessly looking on as a tornado ripped through the town, destroying everything in its path. The image flickered, went black, then white and with a final sharp pang of pain she was back in the Gallery in San Francisco.
The crowd that had gathered looked at her worriedly, as someone held her by the elbow and tried to lift her up to her feet. She didn't recall falling to her knees. 'I have to go back… I have to go back and change everything again… I can't let this happen…' The rocker-gal repeated in her head over and over. She didn't bother resisting the man and woman, who helped her get to her feet. She hardly even noticed them, as her eyes were fixed on the picture before her.
The young rocker steered her tormented mind to focus on the picture. Again everything went white and then she was in her room. She nearly collapsed then and there as the headache reminded her of itself with a sickening sharp twist of pain that surged through her head, clouding her vision. As she gasped for air the young woman noticed that the black dots and the shimmering of her vision didn't go away. It was as if the whole room, her room, was flickering in and out of reality and existence.
'If I can't go back to the moment of me giving that fucking bastard the picture, I just have to make sure there is no picture that I could give him.' With a herculean effort Max steadied her breathing and focused on the task at hand. She snagged the picture from her instant-camera and ripped it in half. Immediately the pain returned and she felt like someone hand just kicked her in the head. She felt sick. A flash of white, a strangely familiar haze and then her vision started to clear again.
"What did you say, Max?" The man standing before her was no other Mark Jefferson. She was back in the dark room, taped to the same chair. Right back where she had started from.
'What the hell? What the actual fuck?!' Her mind was racing as the memories of various 'pasts' and 'presents' tried to rearrange themselves in her head. 'This doesn't make sense! That fucker should be in jail! What the hell went wrong?' Her eyes fell on the man's hands. No traces of recent wounds. This indeed appeared to be the same 'present' she had started out from. 'Oh, no! Chloe!' This one thought brought back everything again, but most of all – the rage.
"Jesus. It's like you're back in my class. You're still spacing out." The man seemed not to notice the change in the girl's eyes as he leaned in closer. "It might be cool if you took one of your patented selfies now… The transformation between the old Max and the new Max… Anyway, answer my question, please." The man waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention.
Cold fury burned in her gut, like it had been filled up to the brim with liquid, molten metal, but the young woman stayed silent. She didn't feel the blood flowing from her nose, but the man in front of her noticed.
"Hey… Your nose is bleeding! Probably gave you too big a dose. Sorry about that, Max. But considering you're about to die, a nosebleed is a first world problem." The man sneered at her, clearly not caring what actually happened to the woman before him. He already turned away from her, when he caught a glimpse of the young rocker turning her head to the side where hours before another woman had lain. "Oh, I had to let Victoria Chase go. She's exactly where she deserves to be…" He mused as if to himself, before turning back towards the rocker with the brown-red hair and looking her in the eyes. "Your iris… That… dilation like a shutter… the pictures you're taking of me now. Too bad you pissed away your gift. You could have won the contest, but you destroyed your own beautiful photograph… What a waste." He sounded almost sincerely sad, before continuing in a more serene tone. "Sorry, I burned all your stuff. I got a little carried away. Especially since you've developed from out-sider to the most-loved anti-hero of the school within a week. There's something… weird going on with you."
As the young girl with the nose-piercing continued to stare at the man defiantly a sudden flicker of the lights occurred. The sound of the raging storm was audible even here.
"Whoa! Did you see how crazy it is outside?" He laughed a little, but returned to look Max in the eyes again. "Like I said… something weird. Where is that fear?... Defiant to the last? Oh, Max… It's an honour working with you on these final sessions. I hope these images will be appreciated for what they truly capture." There was a sly, knowing and menacing grin on the man's face as he spoke this last sentence. "The loss… of youth and hope." As if he'd made a joke of sorts, the psychopathic teacher burst out in a low laugh. "At least… that's the last lecture you'll ever have to hear from me… And I promise you – no more nosebleeds."
As the man turned and walked over to the trolley to fill up another syringe with drugs, the rocker-girl noticed something as she strained against the tape that was holding her in place. Rage, like blinding white lightening shot through her. With a casual smile on his face the man turned again and strolled towards her, syringe in hand.
"I promise. This final dose won't hurt." He said as he placed the needle against the young woman's neck. But he never came to give Max this 'final dose'. A noise startled him. The noise of somebody opening the hatch.
Without a moments delay he turned towards the door and was already grapping for a metal pipe lying on the ground, when his feet were kicked out underneath him. As he fell, he tried to heave at his assailant, but the hand he was waving was hit by a fist at his elbow with a bone-shattering force as another hand had nimbly grabbed hold of his wrist and turned it into an odd angle before.
He screamed in pain, as the pipe fell to the ground, but in the next moment found himself gasping for air, as it seemed all the air had escaped his lungs in a single moment. He actually heard the cracking of his ribs as a forceful and vicious kick landed on his torso. Another kick followed and this time he howled like a half-slaughtered boar, as he felt his ribs breaking.
In a swift motion the assailant had straddled him and now was repeatedly jabbing his face and upper body, as if a hailstorm had come down - only that this time it was in a confined space, fist shaped and relentless. Still he tried to struggle, but through his battered glasses he saw that this attacker was no other than the girl he had thought drugged enough to not be able to move for at least six more hours. Her face was contorted in a bizarre mix of hate, rage and grief, as tears were freely running down her cheeks. She was muttering something, or maybe screaming, but he couldn't really tell the difference, as the woman had taken his head into her hands and had started bashing it against the floor. Somewhere in the distance a door creaked.
"Max? Oh Lord, Max! Are you ok? Are you alright? Max, stop it!" There was a male voice sounding in the room, but it seemed to come from far away. He felt that the weight pressing painfully against his broken ribcage was being pulled away.
'He killed Chloe… He killed Chloe… He killed Chloe…' It was as if someone had decided to play a certain movie or more precisely a snippet of a movie in the young rocker-gal's head on repeat. She didn't notice how David Madsen's hands released their grip on her as she staggered away from the beaten teacher lying on the ground.
"Damn, Max… I might be a veteran and I have had my fair share of hand to hand combat experience, but hell, am I happy that I haven't triggered you." The school guard looked up briefly at the young woman with the bloodied knuckles. She had knocked out the man on the ground along with quite a bunch of his teeth. "He won't be going anywhere when he wakes up." He tried to reassure the young rocker, as he put on handcuffs on the unconscious man. "Except you are going to prison forever. Or worse." He concluded, staring down on the man with unmasked disgust on his face.
'Save Chloe.' A single thought broke through the blood-red veil clouding the rocker-girl's mind. A quick glance at the trolley, where the remains of her diary lay told her that the psychopathic man had truly burned everything – including her photos. Suddenly a memory flickered to life in her mind. This wasn't exactly the 'present' she had started out from. There was one chance.
'Warren! Yes! I can use that picture he took of us!' Came the thought as the memories flooded her mind with a rush. She had reluctantly agreed to take a picture with the nerdy boy. At least in this timeline, but this might just be the thing she needed right now to set things straight.
She grabbed her cell-phone after she had pulled up her t-shirt, but there was no signal in the bunker-turned-dark-room. Had it been any other situation – she might have flung it against the nearest wall, but the safety of the one girl she so dearly loved was paramount. So instead she kicked the trolley sending it skittering against the furthest wall of the room. At the same time her eyes locked on an object on the table in the room and without further questions or thinking she grabbed it. It was the keys to Mr Jefferson's car.
A flash of Chloe getting shot flashed before her eyes again. Without uttering a word the young woman walked up to the man lying on the ground and before the security guard kneeling next to him could say anything, she broke the ankle of the man's left foot with two violent twists.
"Whoa! Max, I know this place looks like hell and I don't even want to imagine what he put you through, but there is only so much you can write of as self-defence." There was no accusation in Mr Madsen's voice, more like a cautionary tone.
"He was going to kill me… like he did to Victoria Chase…" Those were the first actual words she had said to the security guard after he had arrived here. The shock on the man's face was evident.
"Oh no…" This seemed to hit him hard. He did really care about the students, didn't he? "I always suspected that bastard, but I hadn't thought… I wasn't surprised when you accused Nathan of drugging Kate Marsh. I thought so too, but I treated Kate like shit. Like she was the suspect not the others… I know she's a good person… but I'm not. I hope I get to tell her that soon. I hope I can atone for what I've done."
"She was bullied up to that roof, and I know just how that feels, but it was still Nathan and Jefferson who put her there." It felt strange to talk to the man, who had become her best friends' step-father, in this hellish place.
"I knew Nathan Prescott was a threat. I just waited too long to neutralize him." The man continued to beat himself up about the whole ordeal.
"Shitfuck here already did. Buried him. They had some kind of twisted father-son thing going on." Max replied, her eyes not leaving the unmoving body of the man on the ground. He was out cold. "But Nathan killed Rachel, and Jefferson had to use him as a scapegoat."
"That pervert was pulling all this shit right under my nose too…" The ex-military balled his fists at his sides at the thought of that. "I could have stopped him and Nathan if only I hadn't been so stupid!"
"No… I told the principal about Nathan waving a gun in the girls' restroom and almost using it, but he dismissed it as groundless accusations." There was such hate in the girl's voice…
"But I have to admit I'm impressed by you… and Chloe, and your investigation. I had all the high tech toys – you had each other. I'm not going to make any excuses for my behaviour. I tried to be a good soldier, but… I wasn't so great. I tried to be a good father, too. But, I failed at that too… I just want to see Chloe safe with her mother. I don't expect her to call me dad, but maybe she'll stop calling me 'step-douche'." He said, hoping to steer the conversation into another direction, but by the sudden change in the girl's expression he knew he had just steered the hypothetical 'ship' of the conversation against rocks. "So, where is Chloe?"
For a moment it seemed the normally so livid girl would freeze up and stand still, but then she replied, stating that the young blue-haired girl had gone to 'medicate' before the rocker-gal had ended up in the bunker.
"She's safe? Oh, thank God! For once I'm happy Chloe's a stoner. And if I ever see you two hitting the blunt – just remind me that it can be a lifesaver." The man managed a small laugh, but the icy feeling inside Max's gut didn't vanish. She had to right this, right now!
"David, I have to go outside and get some real air… and use my phone." She said as the man pulled her in a short but warm embrace.
"Sure. Go on, Max. You're a brave soldier. I'm glad Chloe has a best friend like you." He said as he turned to watch the knocked out man again, leaving the girl to her own musings.
- Death is the road to awe-
"Warren? Can you hear me?" Max had to yell to actually hear the sound of her own voice as she stepped outside of the barn and dialled the number of the nerdy young man's from her class number.
"Max? Damn, where are you?" Came the worried reply from the other end of the line.
"Never mind. We don't have time for this right now. Listen, do you still have the photo you took last night in the parking lot?" The girl with brown-red hair cut him off crudely. "I have to have it. Where are you right now?"
"I'm at the Two Whales diner. Pretty much trapped in here with Joyce, thanks to Armageddon weather." The man replied with a worried laugh. "I'm expecting the ocean to turn red…"
"Stay there. I'm on my way." With that she hung up as she already got into the teacher's car and started the motor. This was her one shot at getting things right. She could not fuck this up. She wouldn't allow it.
She was already close to the Two Whales, when her phone vibrated and made knocking sounds. She had received a voice-message. Apparently received a day ago. She put it on more out of instinct than really caring for its content.
"Max, it's… it's Nathan. I just wanted to say… I'm sorry." The voice of the now deceased young man on the message was shaky. He was clearly crying and trying not to let it influence the flow of what he has to say. "I- I didn't want to hurt Kate or Rachel, or… didn't want to hurt anybody. Everybody… used me. Mr Jefferson… is coming for me now. All this shit will be over soon. Watch out, Max… He wants to hurt you next. Sorry." She only half-registered what the man she had so ruthlessly beaten had said in the message, but a small fraction of her, the one that remembered the young man from other 'pasts' and 'presents' where he had been a true 'knight in shining armour' for the students of the whole Academy, felt something along the lines of pity for him.
Still, she had no time to think about it too much as the debris blocking the road forced her to bring the car to an abrupt halt. It seemed the tornado had already reached the city, or very well would do so in the next few minutes.
She didn't really remember how she got to or into the dinner, but there she was – standing in front of an exhausted and battered looking Joyce, who nearly crushed her with the hug she gave her as the older woman noticed the young rocker, and the nerdy young man, staying a bit further away with a shy expression on his face. Another man was standing behind them, with a somewhat pained, but at the same time hopeful expression – Frank.
Before she had a chance to ask Warren about the photo, Frank had already stepped in front of her and after, shockingly, giving her a warm hug too, started asking about their investigation.
"Frank… Rachel… Rachel is dead." Her voice broke a little as she said it, her mind again a myriad of thoughts and memories. Rage, anger, helplessness and other emotions wrestling for control.
"God, no, please… Please, no… No, not Rachel… She can't fucking be dead!" The man nearly fell down to his knees, but steadied himself at the counter and let himself slide slowly against it to the ground. It was a moment before he spoke up again. "Are you… Are you sure? I mean, how do you know?"
"Frank, we used the names you gave us to track down a farmhouse. The professor, Mark Jefferson, had this creepy, fucked up photo-torture room there… and we found out he was using Nathan Prescott to drug and photograph Blackwell students." Max replied, trying to be somewhat considerate, but failing…
"Prescott? Fuck! Fuck, I knew it! I should never have hooked up with that sick punk! Pompidou hated him! You saw… you saw Rachel?" The emotions on the man's face changed by the moment as sadness finally overcame any other emotion.
"Yes." Was the only thing she could bring herself to say. All of this was too much. Too much to tell, too much to relive.
"Rachel… Oh, God. She was the one good thing in my life, Max…" The man's voice was barely audible over the raging storm outside. "I know she was too young, and… I expected her to leave me, just… just not how it happened… I would have never stopped her from going after her dreams."
"I know… She cared about you, Frank." The rocker-gal replied, her glance somewhat vacant, but the man didn't seem to notice.
"Rachel cared about a lot of people… especially Chloe… but, uh… now I see why Rachel dug her… and Chloe was man enough to ask me for help after all that shit we went through… You know, the one time I met my dad, the bastard quoted the bible and said he wanted to 'enter his house justified'." The man with the dirty blonde hair didn't notice the look on the young woman's face, but seemed to notice the uneasiness she felt. "In other words, to do the right thing… me too. And maybe you're helping me get there, Max. Don't get me wrong, kid. I still think you're scary and dangerous… but you're cool."
A silent 'yeah, you too' was all the rocker-gal managed to say. The quiet sobs of the broken man she had just talked to lingered in her ears as she turned and walked over to the young nerd with brown hair standing farther off at the counter.
"I hate to say I'm glad to see you, but I'm so glad to see you. But damn, Max… I can't believe you drove down here in the middle of a fucking E6 tornado, just for one photograph…" Warren addressed her as she stepped closer, but seemed somewhat embarrassed, as he probably expected to be able to hug her too. "I mean, I know you didn't come for me." He managed a small laugh.
"Warren, listen. This important. Tell me you do have the photograph." The mentioning of the picture in question pulled the rocker-gal out of the dark place of her minds jungle she had stumbled into.
"Yeah, sure, I just wanted to-" The man started, clearly at odds with himself, either due to the whole situation they were in or because of something else, but the rocker with brown-red hair silenced him with an upheld hand and a look that told him 'we don't have time for this'.
"Warren, shut up and listen. I know you mean well, but I need that picture right now. You have to trust me." For a moment the young man didn't seem to know what to do. He clearly had something on his mind, but after taking a long look at the young woman's face, which was a mask of fierce determination, he relented. With a sigh he pulled out the folded photograph from his wallet.
"Her you go, Max." He held the photo out for her. In a flash the young girl had snagged the picture from his hand and started to stare at it intently. For a brief moment he thought something shimmered in the young girls' eyes and was reflected on the picture…
For the umpteenth time that day everything turned white for the young rocker with the nose-piercing. The headache was still there, but as the light faded, her eyes settled on the one person standing before her – a certain blue-nette.
"We got no time for this shit. Come on, Max." The punk-girl said with an annoyed tone waiting for Warren to let go of the rocker-gal in question. Nearly immediately the vision of the shocked blue-haired woman was obscured, when in the next moment the shorter woman practically leaped from where she was standing next to the young man, crushed her in a tight hug and kissed her hard on the mouth not caring for the audience present.
"Jesus, dude… what's up with you?" Chloe asked a bit breathlessly, when the other girl released her from the tight embrace. It was only now that she noticed the tears running down the young woman's cheeks. "Are you ok? What's going on, Max? We have to find Nathan right now. Let's go." She urged her friend on. She could still feel the burning sensation of the other girls' lips being pressed against hers, but seeing the look on her best friends face had shaken her quite a bit. Still, she couldn't let it hold them back now. They were so close to finally avenging Rachel. She was so close... "Max, we really have to get going lest that fucker escapes." She felt a sharp sting of pain in her chest when she turned her back on the crying, clearly distraught woman, but this was it – the moment of truth. The moment she had not known she had waited for throughout many months. She could not falter. Not now. 'Fuck, Price! You're going to regret this. You are so going to regret this.' The voice in her head and heart told her to turn around and embrace the young rocker-gal, try to sooth her, but the bitterness and anger in her gut won through. She couldn't allow herself to falter. "Come on Max. Just tell me what is going on, while we walk. I can walk and listen, okay?"
She was forcefully grabbed by the shoulders. Painfully even. And suddenly she was face to face with the young rocker with brown-red hair. Max's face was a livid expression of anger and… pain?
"Stop and listen for once!" The young rocker nearly yelled. In the distance she could see the young nerdy man slip around the corner of the building, clearly not wanting to stand in the way of the angry rocker-gal. "Chloe, you can't go in that party. You're gonna die if you do."
"You used your powers, right? And you fucked around with time, and I died." The blue-haired girl said with venom in her voice that she had not intended to be there. She could see how much it hurt the woman in front of her, but time again her mouth just didn't know when to stop. "You're supposed to back me up. So there's no way that punk-ass bitch Nathan Prescott is taking me down."
"He won't." The face of the young woman with the nose-piercing seemed to be drained of colour. "Mark Jefferson killed you… and others."
"Jefferson, the art teacher? That's bullshit! Nathan is the fucking serial killer! We saw the proof!" Chloe said, but even as she did, the expression on her best friends face made her doubt it. "Now, excuse me, I'm going to that party to make sure he never hurts anybody again. Are you coming?"
"He's dead, Chloe! Nathan is already dead… and you're in danger." The burst of anger that shot over Max's face was enough to make the punk-girl regret her boorish attitude, but there was something in those eyes that she hadn't seen before – like something had seriously shaken the normally tough-as-nails rocker-gal to the core. Like there was something seriously amiss and one wrong word could send her tumbling into the deepest pits of darkness.
"Max, calm down…" For the first time in this evening since they had found Rachel's body Chloe's mind settled on the only other thing that had ever really mattered to her – her best friend. She could see the woman standing in front of her was shaking, despite the relatively warm weather. Her eyes were red from crying, but they had a vacant, haunted look in them. Instinctively the punk-girl stepped closer and wanted to hug the girl with brown-red hair, but to her surprise her advance was met with a silent, very silent 'don't'. 'Shit! Get yourself together, Price! She's in really bad shape!' "Will you please tell me exactly what happened? Please?"
"I was there…" She said it in such a quiet voice that Chloe didn't really hear it and unconsciously reacted with a 'huh?'.
"I was fucking there! Goddamn it!" The rocker-gal snapped at her as she hugged herself. Judging by the white knuckles on her hands, Chloe had no problems imagining that tomorrow there would be marks on the rocker-girls' arms. "Jefferson… Jefferson drugged and kidnapped me. I was tied up in his bunker and you-" Her voice broke there and for a moment before she continued in a low, quiet voice. "You were dead… You have no idea what hell I went through to get back here! But I couldn't let you die! I can't lose you again… I won't!"
"Oh… Max… I'm- I'm so sorry…" Chloe's mind was racing now. "I was the one who dragged you into all this shit… Nobody, especially you, should have to go through that…" For a few moments she felt like she'd been petrified by what she'd just heard, but her determination to see things through were even more solidified by it than ever before. "Now we have to stop Jefferson… with one bullet."
"No! Not this way! Jesus, fuck! Can you just listen?" There was pure anguish in the rocker-gals' eyes. "I can't- I can't keep fixing everything, if all I'm gonna do is just break it over and over again. I can't do it! I know how this is gonna turn out… I can't keep pushing… I've fucked up so much… all those alternate realities-"
"Wait… alternate realities?" The blue-nette interrupted her friend and unconsciously grabbing her by one elbow. Only now did she fell how tense the other girls' body was, like she was ready to lash out at any moment. "What do you mean, Max? What did you do?"
"I fucked up, Chloe! I wanted to make things right… for you, for me… but everything turned out wrong. It turned out so wrong!" The response from the young rocker was a whimper, barely audible over the young woman's sobs and the far away music droning over from the party-area. "All I wanted was to see you smile… Just once… to be happy… with me…" This broken side of the young girl with brown-red hair scared the shit out of Chloe, for she knew – she wasn't much of a help. How could she help anyone if all she did was depend and vent her own problems on others? Had she not done the same to Max over this past week despite the young rocker giving her everything? "I was able to go back in time… to the last day William was alive."
"What?" Chloe felt like someone had just poured molten ice in her stomach.
"I stopped him from leaving, but you ended up in a car crash instead." Max's eyes had taken on a hazy dazed glint as if she was not really looking at anything. Or looking at something that no one else could see… "You were completely paralyzed… And you were in so much pain. You-… you were slowly dying… You asked me to end your life! I tried to change things. I didn't want it to be true, so I tried to change different things, but it just kept getting worse and worse from every timeline or reality that I came from… And at the end of it all, all I could do was do as you pleaded me to do… I did it… for you… I didn't want you to suffer in any other timeline or reality… Do you understand? The one true thing that I love, murdered by my own hands, because of MY mistakes! I couldn't bear the thought of you in any more pain… I just can't… I can't lose you!" It was as if something had finally given in inside the rocker-girl, as in the next moment Chloe had all hands full to hold her steady, when the young woman slumped forwards, seemingly reaching the limits of her energy to go on.
'Shit! Fuck! You dumb bitch! You can't even fathom what she's been through, but no – you have to keep on pushing her! Great, Price! Fucking great!' The voice of self-loathing boomed in Chloe's head. She could feel now, just how violently her friend was shaking as she pressed the woman against herself, holding them both upright.
"God, Max… That must have been… That must have been awful for you… I'm- I'm sorry I had to ask you that…" 'Of course you hadn't! She begged you to listen, but you didn't! Just like always! You just run off and let others deal with the mess you leave behind!' The venomous voice spat right back.
"It was worse for you… But I had no idea what would happen, and as usual, I messed everything up, and I can't… If it means losing you… I'd rather… I never want to hurt you, ever… You are the one thing that kept me going…" She heard the muffled voice of the shorter woman against the crook of her neck.
"I believe you, Max. Do you think I would even know how to handle that situation? Nobody would! You are so much stronger than me and all I've done is to just hurt you instead for all the good that you have done me… But I swear I won't let that happen again! I will change and make it up to you! For the important thing is that we're together again!" She softly cradled the shorter girl in her arms, speaking in a hushed mellow voice. It was too much to bear. 'How can she still go on? After all she's been through? How can she still say she loves me after all I said? After all I've done? How do I deserve this?' "I'll stay just right here, by your side. Together with you. Alive."
"We have to tell David. He'll believe us. We tell him everything, including that Victoria is in danger. She is Jeffersons next target…" The brown-red haired girl seemed to pick herself up again. Chloe could still feel that she was crying, but she was standing on her own again more than being held up by the punk-girl. "I don't know how this will fuck up the timeline. I might not remember any of this… nothing. But we absolutely have to stay in your room and do nothing. Regardless of how heartless it might be against Victoria, but we have to. Then we explain everything to David and we finally let him do his job. If I don't remember – you'll have to tell me exactly what I did and said just now. Just explain that I travelled through time using the photo." As she spoke the last sentence, the punk-girl felt how the shorter woman finally eased out of the embrace. The woman standing in front of her had the old glint of steel back in her blue eyes. "I'll believe you."
With a determined look on her face the blue-haired punk embraced her best friend again, briefly, warmly, before finally setting her mind on what the girl had said and instructed her to do. She didn't notice the small changes in the shorter woman's eyes, nor the blue insect that was happily, lazily flapping its wings in the late autumn air.
White flashed before her eyes as a myriad of memories flew past her minds' eye, but it was not the return of her vision that brought Max back to the 'here and now' this time around. It was the wet sensation of her skin. Like she'd held her hand in water. Or more like – she'd been thrown into a pool. She felt like she was freezing. It only then occurred to her that she was standing outside somewhere. The wind tore at her cloth as the rain whipped at her face.
"Chloe? Chloe!" The predominant thought returned with a surge. She felt a steadying hand on her shoulder.
"I'm right here, Max. I see that the real you is back, so… how was your time trip, dude?" The punk-girl with blue hair asked as her friend embraced her in a tight hug.
"Oh, you're alive! You're alive, Chloe… Oh, God!" The shorter woman released her grip on her best friend as she took a step back just to get a better view of the woman she had just embraced so tightly. 'God, please let this be it! Please, don't take it away…' "I did so much to bring you back… and now you're here, Chloe… It worked. It actually worked." Still, as she said these words, dread settled in her gut. Like an old wound that had been torn up again, it started to fester and grow. Even when the young blue-nette embraced her on her own and declared that fate didn't want to see them apart.
"You travelled through multiple realities just to save my ungrateful ass over and over." The punk-girl said as she stepped a few steps away from the still slightly dazed and confused rocker. "I hope it was worth it, but… I won't blame you if you want me out of your life after all my drama."
"What the-? Chloe! I came back for you. I did this so I can be with you. I mean, look at me!" The tiny flicker of anger in Max's eyes told Chloe that her friend was 'right here, right now'. "Just look at what my powers have caused in just a short time. I mean, look!"
"Max, we were meant to be here at this exact time of history together and if this whole crazy week doesn't prove it… hell, I don't know what will." The punk-girl managed a small smile as she looked at the woman before her. 'How can anybody ever deserve such a friend like her? How can I ever deserve that?' "I have to think that Rachel was somewhere behind the scenes, fighting for justice…" Too late she noticed the small tinge of sad bitterness in the other woman's eyes as it vanished nearly instantly, but it had been there… right? "Do you remember anything?"
"Yeah, yeah… It's all there… It's still all there. Chloe! We have to get to the lighthouse!" There was a slight tone of panic in the young woman's voice.
"I know. You told me. The storm is coming closer and it's still growing. Who knows… This could be Rachel's revenge… Our revenge." Again the blue-haired girl thought she saw something in her best friends' eyes, but then she noticed something else entirely. "Max? Max! Your nose… Max, can you hear me?"
"Chloe…" Was the last thing the young rocker-gal could breathe out as her vision swam, blurred, turned to white once more and then turned to a black that would have put the deepest abyss in the shadow.
"Where have you been, Max? Where has my proud warrior-princess turned puppy gone?" Max snapped around as if stung by something. Her whole body felt like ice.
"Oh, Max! Wouldn't it be great to spend the rest of our lives in that Dark Room, hm? Jefferson could be our slave, but oh… we would have to get rid of that pest Chloe…" She was standing at the blackboard in her class-room in the Academy. The woman standing before her was mesmerizingly beautiful. She had eyes like big green emeralds. Her hair, slightly whipping in a breeze that the rocker-gal herself didn't feel, was black as the darkest night. Her lips were red as rubies. Red as blood. Her voice tore through the young rockers mind like a claw, but sounded like the purring of a cat. The woman touched Max's cheek with one ice-cold hand. "I can't stand the thought of you leaving me!"
"Cassandra! No this isn't real! No!" Max bound for the door, but before she even had made a few steppes her vision turned to black once more.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hey, guys and gals. Really don't recommend sleep deprivation and working overtime. Especially if you're not getting paid for it at the end of it all! Anyways – here is the promised new chapter. Cooked it a bit longer, but doubt that it's improved much as the last chapters have been kind of mediocre (at least I do believe so, myself), but I hope you can still enjoy it. Still don't know when the next one will be out, but got some plans and maybe one or two smaller or bigger twists that I hope you'll enjoy, when they finally pop up.
With that said - cheers and have a great day and rest of the week ;)!
Yours,
Bovragor