A/N: This chapter gets a little intense. If your one of those humans with a weak stomach, I suggest clicking the X in the corner, as I always suggest. Ask your doctor before reading. Side effects may include crying, weeping, reviewing(a good thing), cussing out the author, and maybe even thoughts of suicide. If you experience these effects, I really don't care.
Okay, okay. Serious now. A lot of people suggested this death in the beginning, and since I'm far too lazy to type them all out, feel free to shout out in the reviews: "OMG I SUGGESTED THIS IS HOW THIS PERSON DIED!##%*"
For the death suggestions of Rachel, there were a lot, either in the reviews or in private messages. I have Pm'd some of you if yours was picked, and will credit you in that chapter. If you still have ideas, feel free to tell. You may get picked as well.
Sometimes, I weep softly, because I lost the one thing that was inside of me, apart of me. Beth.
This isn't one of those times.
Mostly, because I couldn't stand knowing that, along with myself, my child would die with me.
My mother is confused on why I'm so depressed, but doesn't ask.
I don't want to die.
I really don't. I'm beautiful, young, vibrant, and no longer pregnant. I could survive, and have a happy life.
Riiiiiing. Who would be calling at four in the morning?
I open my phone. "Hello?"
"Quinn, can we talk?"
"What do you want, Puck?"
"Just look outside your window."
I sit up from my bed, and smooth down my untamed hair before looking out my bedroom window. Puck is there, hands in his jean pockets, squinting up at me. "Come down?" he asks. I sigh, put on my sunglasses, and climb down the stairs into the front lawn. I cross my arms, and look up at Puck.
"Did I wake you?" he asks.
"No, already up."
"Doing what?"
I sigh. "Thinking."
"About?"
"What do you think?" I ask, a tone of bitterness. "All of our friends that have been dying. Me dying."
He reaches out, and strokes my face. I flinch, but don't pull away. The warmth is surprisingly comforting, and it's the only bit of soothing I've had since Beth,
"You're not dead yet," he says.
"Emphasis on the 'yet', Noah."
His eyes gaze down, smirking. "I'll let you get away with calling me that, just this once."
I smile, without showing my teeth. "Is this why you came? To remind me that I might die?"
"No, to remind you that we don't have to die."
"We?"
"Yes, we." His eyes are as endless corridors, and there's a light at the end. "Quinn, want to run away with me?"
At any other moment in time, I might have scoffed at the cheesiness, then maybe walked away. Now, it's the most romantic thing.
And a chance at life.
I hurriedly pack a large backpack, and kiss my sleeping mother's forehead, before we go to the Ohio Train Station.
The ticket holder is unphased by the fact that two teenagers are hopping a train at 5 in the morning to Las Vegas, Nevada.
"Lemme guess, she's pregnant," he begins, pointing a fat dirty finger at me. "And her parents are pissed, so you're running away together to get married."
His guess is so funny, that I start laughing hysterically. He raises a greasy eyebrow at me. "Good guess, but you're about a year off."
"Yeah, this time, we're just trying to stay alive," Puck says. The man frowns, and shoves the tickets in our hands.
"Good luck," he gruffs.
Maybe if I hadn't been so absorbed in the fact that this might just work, I would've noticed another teenager boarding as well.
"Why are we going to Las Vegas, anyways?" I ask Puck once we get in our seats. Everyone else is either asleep or too absorbed in a game to notice our conversation.
"I figured that no one would be able to find us. Lima, there's not many people. Las Vegas is packed to the brim, and this Killer would be hard pressed to find us there."
"Smart plan, but wouldn't we run out of money eventually? I mean, my college fund and the few hundreds of savings I've had over the years will only last us so long."
"I have an uncle in LV, he'll help us out." The train blows its whistle, and it jolts to a start.
"So how long have you had this all planned?"
He smiles, and looks into his lap. "Uhm, would you be mad that I've had this plan ever since you were pregnant?"
I gape. "What? You expected me to run away while I was still in school?"
"Technically, you still are. But I was thinking more of: after the baby, I would take you to Las Vegas, marry you, then we can go to the university there, and maybe start a life?"
"You wanted to marry me?" I whisper.
"Uh, yeah." He gets this goofy smile on his face. "I know you don't want to, but-"
I lean up, and kiss him on his cheek. "Maybe not marriage, but I'd be happy to start a life with you. We could go to a highschool there until we graduate, then we can talk."
"Sounds like a plan."
"Oh, how sweet," a voice says. We look over, and there's someone reading a newspaper. He lowers it, and his masked face is in full view. "Looks like it all worked out for you."
I clutch Puck's arm, feeling protected. "You're him."
"Is that a statement, or a question?" The Killer asks.
"A statement, I guess," I say.
The Killer folds his newspaper, and smiles. Those teeth are so bright and straight. Reminds me of a dog's teeth, before it eats.
"You can't touch her," Puck says, fists tight.
"I'm so afraid," he says. "In fact, I'm so scared, that I'm going to wait until we're off this train to kill you. I'll let you get into Las Vegas, and leave you alone."
"Really?" Puck asks.
"Yes. But I won't leave you alone forever."
The Killer stands up, and exits to the next car. Leaving us bewildered, and tenser than before.
Puck makes a move to follow him, but I stop him.
"Puck, if you try to go after him, you'll die. Can we just try to wring out all of the living we have left?" I ask.
Puck sits back down. "He's toying with us now," he says, teeth gritting together.
"I know," I say solemnly. "But I'm not ready to die yet."
We exit the train at the LV station, shaking and not seeing our killer. I lean into Puck, and he wraps his arm around me. In the early morning, the city is still and quiet, even with the flashing lights. It's still dark, but in the distance you see a hint of sun. It's chilly, and I forgot that Nevada weather is strange, even in late April. I forgot to pack a jacket, so I just shiver.
We enter a small 24 hour coffee shop, that only has one old waitress on duty. She smiles at us, and pours us two coffees. I sip mine eagerly. Neither of us speaks.
None of us notices the muffled scream from the backroom, and the quiet slam. We're both absorbed in our thoughts. Puck starts to speak.
"Hey, Quinn. You want to m-"
A crash rings out through the coffee shop. We look around frantically, searching for what the source was.
"What the-" Puck says, before we realize that the Killer is right behind him, and tying a rope around Puck to the chair. Before Puck can react, he's already tied it so tightly that Puck can't move. He struggles, but it's no use. I watch in horror.
"Told you I'd be back," he says.
I jump at him, trying to attack. He easily grabs me, and keeps my wrists in a lock with his hands.
"Delivery," he whispers, and with his free hand, gives me my card.
SLOWLY.
"No!" Puck shouts. "I won't let you."
The Killer shoves me down, and closes the blinds to the coffee shop. "Thought you could run away. How cute."
He pulls out a small container of pills. "These," he says, tapping out a few pills. "are pills called barbiturates. They are very effective in killing, and are often used in suicide. Takes a while, though. About fifteen minutes." He pins me to the ground, cold breath in my face. He pours about half the bottle down my throat. I choke, trying to cough them out. He forces my jaw closed, shushing me. I painfully swallow them all, tears dripping down my cheek. "But to torture Puck here, I'm going to make you suffer while you die."
He takes out his knife.
"FUCK YOU!" Puck shouts, still struggling. He manages to knock his chair over, along with him. Lying on his side, he's pretty much useless.
Forced to watch me die.
The Killer smirks at Puck, and looks down at me. "First, let's cut off some of your pretty hair. Then maybe he won't love you as much, sweetheart."
Lock by lock, long strips of my hair fall to the tiles below me. Then, he pulls out a pair of salon scissors.
"All of your hair," he says. Then trims off my eyelashes. I'm still crying, breathing heavily.
Please, God. Help me. God...
Puck watches in agony, breathing heavily.
"Just to amp up the suffering, let's take off those clothes." He pulls my shirt over my head. I try to resist, but the effects of the pills are already taking place. I feel myself getting weak, and can barely move. But I can still feel the pain. He takes off all of my clothes, and I'm still crying. Puck is still try to get out, and failing.
"Now, now. I'm not going to rape her," he says, laughing softly. "I'm not that kind of killer. Besides, I find her, extremely unattractive." He laughs a little louder. "But you are very beautiful. What a shame."
"Get off of her!" Puck shouts.
The Killer ignores her, and raises his arm, and plunges the knife into my leg. I scream, a chortled sound. The pills are making my tongue numb, and I can barely even see. It's all blurry. The screams collapse into more tears, and I can barely even stand the pain.
"Puck," I manage to say, gasping. "Puck, I-"
He buries the knife into my other leg. I bite my tongue down, trying not to scream even more.
Puck manages to break lose of the ropes, and jumps at The Killer. He acts fast, and pulls a gun out of a holster in his jacket. He aims, and fires.
Puck goes down, gasping in pain.
"Puck!" I shout. He's clutching his lower stomach. He aims the gun at me, and shoots me in the arm.
So...much..pain.
My vision is getting even dizzier.
"Quinn, I love you. So much..." he whispers.
Tears keep flooding my cheeks. "I love you too."
"Marry me?" he asks.
"Of course," I sob.
Everything is fading fast.
"It's been thirteen minutes," the Killer says. "Any time."
So much pain.
"Shoot me with your rubber bullets
Your finger's on the trigger, pull it
I know you want this suffering to end
So it is forgivable my friend." I'm singing. I manage to. I'm half singing it to my murderer, and half to Puck. I hear Puck sobbing.
"It's all to convince me that I'll be better off
So you go on and I'll be happier,
You go on and I'll be happier
You go on, yeah, you go on
You'll be gone and I'll be happier." Puck, please live. I'll be happy in heaven, I swear.
"Quinn, I love you so much. I love you even more than when you were carrying my child. Please don't leave me."
"You won't convince me, that I'll be better off
So you go on and I'll be happier, I'll be happier
You go on, you go
You'll be gone, and I'll be gone..."
"You won't be gone. I'll always remember you. I love you." I can barely hear him know.
I'm dying.
"Goodbye," he whispers.
"Fifteen minutes," The Killer says.
"You go on, and I'll be happier..."
"Quinn..." Puck whispers.
Puck.
Beth.
Everyone.
I'll be okay.
At least I didn't die alone.
Darkness envelopes me, and I take my last breath.
It's so bright...
