Hey guys. I just re-re-re read last chapter, and noticed a shit load of typos and stuff. And it was unbearably short. And it felt… Eh.
That, in my mind, was one of the worst chapters I've ever done. But whatever, just have to make this one double the epic.
Oh yeah, and double the… longness. Prepare for super chaperitõ PLOT POINT. Limited edition. Read while you can.
Nah. JK. I'm not taking it down.
But srsly, read it. Now.
.Ri
Grace POV
"What was he thinking?"
The familiar clicking of the black BL/I shoes comes into my hearing range. It comes closer.
"I've no idea myself. I mean, go ahead, drink to your hearts content, but passing out afterwards? And while on duty?"
"Poor Marcus. He's no longer with us…"
"Don't say it like he's dead!" The second one says. "He was just rehabilitated, to be shot down by own of the colourful scum."
Now they're close to my cell, I can hear them. I sit on the graying, scuffed floor of my own little prison. Around me are a few children's toy this mean asian lady had given me, which are really too basic for my likes. One of them, though, I've taken a liking to. It was a bit shorter then a foot tall, made out of a tough plastic, painted to resemble a robot. I thought of it as my only true friend.
Me, friends with a piece of plastic. That's almost as insane as me being friends with that icky girl Sparx Fire… This place was driving me crazy.
I quickly tune back into the conversation between the two agents.
"I heard he was found with no mask or clothes." One of them says.
"Thought it was just the blaster?"
"No, I'm sure there was no shirt."
I silently snigger. Who knew even in jails like this one, rumours were spread? And exaggerated like so.
I guess my being silent didn't work out as well as I thought, because the footsteps ceased, along with the conversation.
"'Ey kid," One says. I can smell his icky breath. "What's so funny?"
I enlarge my eyes in fake fear and pick up the robot and a stuffed dog about the size of my fist. "Nothing,I squeak. "Just a tea party." I set the dog back down to line up with some of the other mundane toys.
They pause, seeming to think about it, before continuing to walk on. The topic changes to me, but I don't bother listening. I already know it's about my living conditions. Hey, some of them liked kids.
"Glow, baby! You okay over there?"
I hear a groggy voice call out from my right.
"Vocal Vendetta?" I grin at the familiar voice.
"Who else?" Her thick NY accent washes over me with relief. I had met "Vocal Vendetta" weeks ago, and she was the closest thing to a best friend in this hell. I loved everything about her, from her accent, to her wavy fluorescent green hair. I don't know how she managed to dye it in a place like this, but something about her hair reminded me of a neon green food coloring. Her real name was Maggie, she had whispered it into my ear one day, as we attempted to force lumpy gray mashed potatoes into our systems.
"What did the goons want?"
I shrug, before giggling. She couldn't see me… "I was giggling at their convo. They were talking about that one Draculoid, you know, how he got wasted and crashed out in the hall." I'm laughing the whole way through. She and her roommate were the only ones I had told about my deed.
She cackled with me. "Oh, that's too much. Well, G," I can practically see the wink she would usually give me after using her nickname for me. G, as in Glow, and as in Gracie. But we couldn't use our real names, so G it was. "Let's talk face to face during mealtimes, okay?"
I smile and press my tanned hand to the wall. "Yeah. I'm looking forward to it."
Her voice softens. "You know, Glow, I'm always just on the other side of this here wall." She knocks twice. "So if you need anything…"
"…Don't be afraid to say anything, yeah yeah, you tell me everyday. Vivi, you're the best."
"I know."
We both laugh girlishly, but are rudely interrupted by a certain cell mate of hers.
Chris, or otherwise known as Minute Missile, growls from what sounds like underneath a thin blanket.
"Best, schmest, I need my beauty sleep. Can't you guys learn sign language or something?"
I roll my eyes. He was grouchy in the mornings, but when he'd had his sleep, he was a fun, sweet guy, and I loved him to death. Sometimes he spoke of a woman he had lost when he was captured, but usually we avoided the subject. He shut up for hours, just thinking, twirling a plastic bloodstained rose he hung from his belt.
"Wake up, it's like…" I check my watch. "Fuck, screw that, battery's dead." I frown down at it. It was pretty much, other then those two, what kept me sane. "Just wake up anyway."
I can hear him sigh as he shrugs himself out of bed.
"Mornin'."
"Morning…"
I hear from on the other side.
They partake in a quiet, boring sounding conversation, so I get comfortable in my "bed", and stare at the ceiling for a while. My frizzy brown hair pools around my round face.
I had been there for 2 and a half weeks. I had counted each day. On the first day, when I was forced into my room, I had put up a fight. Chris, next cell over with Maggie had come to my aid, attempting to beat the shit out of him with me. They were lucky they hadn't been rehabilitated, but stupid baldy still had information that he wanted out of them.
Chris… He had been there for over a year. He says he'd lost count long ago, but at least a year and a half. Or something.
Maggie was taken in two months ago. Each of them are role models to me, brought in, and haven't said a word of top secret information to the bad guys. No matter how many punches they threw, how many laser guns pointed at their foreheads, they stayed quiet. My eyes twinkle just thinking of their bravery.
But soon a wave of sorrow crashes over me, making me shiver.
But, no matter how much I love my two friends here, I miss my guys. My Jet, Kobra, Ghoul, Party… The rest of them. My eyes squeeze shut. I won't cry. I can't…
Cry.
Tears pour out, but I remain silent. I don't want anyone thinking I'm a wimp. Although, I really am.
This is the first time I've really absorbed it all.
What if they've given up on me? What if they don't want me? What if I never, ever see them again…?
I shake the thoughts out of my mind.
They would never do that.
They'll come for me.
I know they will. They love me. They said so themselves.
And who in their right mind leaves a fellow killjoy behind?
I wasn't going to rot in here forever. If they didn't come to me…
I stroke the ray gun I had successfully stolen possessively.
I'd come to them.
Ivory POV
I wake up in a cold sweat. My blue hair is plastered to my forehead, and my eyes frantically search the room.
I lower my defences and stumble upwards, stepping over what used to be her bed…
No.
It still is.
My nightmare… It's all hazy now, I don't remember. All I remember is Grace. Going in to rescue her and… I had waited in the van with the rest of them. And all of them… Sprawled out. Dead.
That wasn't going to happen, we'd live happily ever after after Gracie was back.
Oh god, I may hate the shit out of the brat, but I kind of miss her provokes.
The wooden boards creak under my light step, and I squint as the chain of a light is pulled.
Cch-ck.
I turn around, to see Gerard staring me down.
"You're awake." He whispers. Looking him up and down, I realize he's in his t-shirt, and boxers. I laughed internally at this.
"Yeah. So are you."
We stand in silence for many awkward seconds, before he speaks up.
"Couldn't you sleep?"
"…I had a nightmare."
"Nightmares aren't real. Remember that."
"This one could very well be." I choke out, and he approaches me quietly and carefully… And then more forcefully, as he pulls me into a bear hug.
My heart skips a beat at his warm embrace.
"Tell Gee all about it."
..
We sit on the couch, steaming cups of coffee in hand. He listens attentively, nodding at each of my questions.
"You're a good listener." My voice cracks half way through as I hold the tears back. Really, the dream was scary. Not the dream itself, but the reality. The mission was suicidal. If we got there, they would just knock us all down again. Wouldn't they? And if we did manage to-
"Ivory." His hard voice interrupts the mayhem running free in my mind. "Calm down. We're gettingher back, no matter what. And we are coming back, no matter what!"
His words seem to snap me out of mass hysteria.
"How do you know that for sure?" I ask him, doubt in my voice.
Gerard wasn't fazed, though. No. He sounded confident as he placed his hand over mine. "I know this for sure, because the good guys always win, don't they?" A cocky grin was plastered on his gorgeous face, his soft lips.
His lips…
They looked so kissable, but I resisted the temptation of molesting his gorgeous mouth. No, Frank liked me. I liked Frank. Yeah.
"Don't you believe in justice?" He snickers at me. I scoff back and roll my big eyes.
"You're too confident…" I laugh.
He sticks out his tongue immaturely. "Hey, better cocky than insecure."
"Who says that?" I laugh, spilling a few drops of my rich brown coffee.
"Hmm. I do." And with that he takes my empty hand, stands up, and pulls me back to the bedroom.
I yawn. "Woah, Gee, how about dinner and a movie first?" I chuckle as he sits me down on the lumpy surface they called a mattress. He gives me and eye roll, and tucks me in, just like a mother would do.
"Just sleep, Ivory." Gerard whispers to me, and our eyes catch. My red, his hazel, mingling in the awkward silence. I feel myself plunging into his soul, feeling his sorrow, his love for all of his friends and family long ago departed…
He breaks the unbreakable trance, and kisses my forehead. His lips hover there for a second, until he pulls away and saunters quietly over to the door frame.
He turns around and smiles at me. "Night, you. If you aren't asleep in five, I'm waking you up early for Gerard's special before-sunrise morning patrol."
A wink, a grin, and he's out.
And then I'm out.
Like a light.
Morning hits me like a missile. The unfriendly sunlight beats onto my forehead, greeting me with a nauseating punch.
"FUCK YOU!" I scream, pulling the thin, tattered blanker over my head.
I hear jogging footsteps over to the wide open door, and glare up at the handsome, chiselled features that belong to Mikey.
"You getting raped or something?" He gives me a look, leaning against the frame. I secretly wish him to lose his balance and topple to the dusty floorboards.
"The sun…" I growl, and flip over so my back is to the cracked window. "It's deliberately trying to wake me up really early. Nature is out to get me, Michael. I'm telling you."
"It's not early."
"isn't it?"
"No," I peek out from my Batman(Yeah, you heard me. I had to trade my spare holster and some gum for it.) covers to see him check a dusty watch. "It's like, twelve."
What?
Twelve?
"PM?" I gasp, before throwing myself out of bed. I ignore the headrush and pins and needles greeting my feet, and stumble into the living room. The boys, lazing on the couch all look up with alarming looks on their battle-worn faces.
"She's alive!" Frank laughs at me, scooting over a foot and a half to give me room to sit.
Ray chuckles along with him. "Seriously. Sleep in much?"
I roll my eyes at them and take a seat on the arm of the chair. Frank looks up at me at frowns.
No. I'm not smiling like usually. Last night's nightmare still haunted me more than ever. Finally, I keel over. But there are no tears, I will never, ever let my tears surface. I place my head on my knees and weep silently. Hard.
"I-I… I miss Grace."
The pale, balded man paced around his monotone office space, knocking over anything that caught his eye.
Within minutes the office was trashed, and his expression as cloudy and hateful as ever.
"Sir-" A draculoid came barrelling in the room, jogging in rudely. His sentence was silenced by a thin beam of radiation to the head.
"KNOCK!" Korse screamed, holstering weapon. He glanced back to the warm corpse, sneering. He felt no remorse, no regret, no sadness for that human being. All his emotion had been washed away many years ago.
He pressed the intercom button and growled into a black, dusty speaker.
"Clean up on isle fucking three." Korse muttered, and straightened his posture immediately as the familiar noise of plain black pumps came into ear shot. He knew the slender and dainty body they belonged to well. He knew her long black hair fell just above her shoulders, how her arms crossed across her chest. But most of all, he knew the angry glare she gave him 95% of the time they did make eye contact.
"What is this?" He heard her sharp, angry voice clear cut across the room. To be truthful, she scared him.
Spinning around, he looked down at the dead draculoid being dragged away by two other workers, which she was pointing at.
"He pissed me off." He grumbled, looking away out the window.
"I don't have time for your stupidity." She stated loudly. "You, I, and many draculoid patrols are going to head down Guano in 10 minutes. We are doing what we should have down 7 years ago."
He opened his thin lips to protest, but she cut him off quickly. She waved a clean chrome panel, the size of a remote. Her pale finger hovered over a small red button.
"Or you can consider yourself deactivated, Korse." They held each other's loathsome gazes for two seconds, before she turned and strutted out.
He sighed, grabbing a jacket and hurrying out the gray, metal doors after her.
"Wait, crazy lady!" He yelled. She didn't wait up, not that he expected her to.
Within minutes, they were seated inside of a large black limo-ish vehicle, traveling at 120 miles per hour. 3 draculoid cars were in front, and 3 in back, for security.
The zones whizzed by, until they were stopped in front of a building oh-so familiar to him. He breathed in the scent of cigarettes and sweat.
He confidently strode up to the door of the diner. With each step, a new word popped up in his hate filled head.
Step. Hatred. Look at what they've done? Killed so many workers of his, ruined so many plans. And look what it's costing them.
Step. Jealousy. A hint of himself wanted freedom. But he knew he'd never have it. Never.
Step, this one harder then the rest. Perfection.
Because his monotone, black scale world was perfect. Everyone was happy, everyone was fed, no one spoke up, and those who did disappeared quickly. Never was there depression, was there economic plunges, and the only war that was being fought was the one the stupid, stupid killjoys kept rioting up to the surface of his perfection. Blemishing it. Making him pointless, worthless.
He needed perfection. Because it was what made the world go round.
And then he was at the melancholy door frame, cocking his weapon of choice, and kicking to door in. Everyone turned in a panic, to see him and the army of armed draculoids behind. They didn't move. They knew what was best.
Because, he… He was god. He Himself, was the one born to rule this world. To make it spin the way it should.
Perfectly.
Because sometimes, you needed to destroy something beautiful to make it perfect.
"I-I… I miss Grace…" I cry out. And then,
It's slow motion. The floor is flung open, and dracs and Korse file in quickly, ray guns in hands.
"You'll see her soon enough," He sneers. With on motion of the hand, the goons flood in and grab us all. In addition to my shorts and tank top, a stylish pair of metal handcuffs are shoved onto my bony wrists, the drac shoves my down, holding my arm in a painful hold as I scream out in utter agony. He chuckles coldly.
I look across at Frank as he is dragged into a car. His eyes are pleading me, begging me, to not say anything. Because this could be the end, and if it was, we were going down in silence. Our deadly secrets would be taken to the grave.
I give him one last look of sadness before I clench my eyes shut. Two dracs drac me into a separate cars from any of the others, and my head hits the rim of the roof on my way in.
A flush of unexpected color.
And then it's black.
Swirls.
What…? Where am I?
I open my eyes to the brightest colors I've seen since innocent childhood. Swirling colors were everywhere. I myself was in a gorgeous lavender Cinderella-esque gown, wearing satiny gloves hitched to my elbows. My long brown- Wait, my hair was brown again? Trippy.- hair is tied up in an elegant royal knot.
I stand and check out my surroundings.
First thing I do is strip off the gloves. Too girly.
And to my surprise, A handsome man walks into the room. A grin is placed on his fair skin, and he hands me a plastic rose. His face… It was…
"Chris…" I gasp out, reaching for him.
But I'm paralyzed, I can't move. Arms plastered to my sides, grin turned up. The gloves, I notice, are back on. I feel like a Barbie doll, all picture perfect for no damn reason.
I look at him, pleading for him to take me into his arms one last time. But he merely smiles again and drops the rose and my feet.
Then another figure walks in, this time his hair long and black. His striking hazel have me as he walks in. He's wearing the same formal attire, tuxedo, black tie, but his jacket is casually draped over one shoulder. He approaches me, and grabs my hand.
I feel myself melt for a second, enough time to whisper, "Frank…"
He nods and steps back a bit, grinning cockily at Chris.
Finally, I can move again. I flex my fingers joyfully.
"I love you," I cry out, but they're gone as soon as they came.
"I love you, can't you hear me?" And now I'm screaming, begging for them to hear me.
"I love you… Both of you, please, please, come back, I want you…" I sob. "I need you…"
I look down, and the bottom of my expensive dress is soaked in a red liquid. It reeks of death. It seems to pool at my knees, and creep up until it reaches my waist and sash.
I cry. I do. Louder and more painfully then ever before.
"What is there left to say?" I scream.
And then I'm swallowed by blood, taken to a place where even the loudest screams can't be heard.
Holy fuck, this was long, wasn't it? Longest I've ever written, but I'm glad I did. I had a lot to say, and I felt like I made up the shittyness of the last chapter.
Anywho, thanks for reading or something. Remember, more is to come…
BUT ONLY IF YOU REVIEW. So come on, take 12 seconds to type me up an encouraging word or so.
I love ya guys, you should know that by now. You give me my insanity. ;]