:D Ahaha~ Hello lovelies~! At first I wasn't too happy about this chapter. Then it got awesome. So yeah... I have a few things at the end I'd like to ask m'kay? :D Urgh. I haven't slept in days. My paranoia has kept me up lately. Kept imagining that was desk chair was going to turn animate and kill me in my sleep. Yes, it gets THAT bad. Anywho...
Review Replies~
Annihilare: The cards! The cards! Ahahaha~! Don't deny your DESTINY~! Heehee~ Well, then. Will this one feel longer? You weren't able to pre-read ANY of it! HAHAHA!
Puppets' Master: Then you're just going to love this chapter~ Oh, I've said to much already~! *sigh* I know, I know. At least I'm not the ONLY one who feels that way. Woe is the way of the secret life of the witch~ Ah! We can always believe that he was pretending, no? That would actually make much more sense to me. Haha, Alfredka just wishes to hide his magick~!
TobiTheNinjaKitten: Thank you dearie~!
America96: *is already giggling* Yes, really~ (Hey, at least I update often~) Haha, that's actually rather cool~ There are many more of us out there than you think *wink* In fact, I know of three others just in my school (and those are the ones "out of the broomcloset" so to speak). Well, here you are~ This is what happens! *blushes* Yes, of course you're loved~ *interweb hug* And yes, we have fall break. *grumbles* To bad it ends tomorrow.
WARNINGS: Language, 2p!s, the usual
DISCLAIMER: Myeh. I'll make my chair eat you.
"There's a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can't take part; you can't even passively take part, and you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you've got to make it stop. And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it, that unless you're free, the machine will be prevented from working at all." - Mario Savio
"It's time to go! The alarm has been sounded!"
There was a split second of complete silence as the two at the door caught their breath and the other two were simply trying to figure out what in the hell was happening. Blank. It's time to go... It's time to go... It's time to go!
Then there was a flurry of action.
Matthew flew past the two and almost tripped over the couch, yelping out something about getting Arthur. Gilbert darted for the kitchen and began to tear open cabinets and drawers, gathering all their last minute supplies. Alfred, finally registering what was going on, leaped to his feet, only to be caught by a concerned Ivan when he stumbled from the pain shooting from his ankle.
"You will not be able to run with your ankle, dorogoi," his voice was soft, urging.
"It's just a fucking sprain! I can do this," he looked up at the other, pleading, stubborn. I'm the hero dammit!
"No," solid steel, non negotiable.
Alfred gave him an incredulous look, and was about to protest heavily when Ivan suddenly scooped him up onto his back. Ivan grunted at the weight on his back and Alfred yelped and clung to the other's neck. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. How can I be so weak in a time of danger?
"What the fuck? Put me down!" Alfred lashed out, kicking and screaming, a small child that wanted to do things on his own.
"No," Ivan was not so lenient.
"Ivan!"
"Not now."
Gilbert rushed out from the kitchen with two bags slung over his shoulder and thrust two more into Ivan's hand that wasn't supporting/holding back Alfred. The American squirmed and attempted to remove himself from Ivan's back without success.
"Ivaaan!" His childishness was beginning to show as his patience grew thin and his anger mounted.
"No."
"Fine. Then hand me the bags."
This was ridiculous, Alfred was the hero, he could handle running with a sprained ankle! Ivan was being far too stubborn, but perhaps he enjoyed the idea of being carried by his big strong Russian. Just a little, not that he'd ever admit it. Ever.
Ivan glanced up in surprise, not thinking that the obstinate blonde would have given up so easily, but passed the bags to Alfred none the less. They would talk about it later, when they weren't trying to cheat death.
Matthew and Arthur came running back in from the back door, Arthur was still covered in dirt from the garden and held a small bag in his hand with another already slung on his back. A worried frown marred his face. "Where's Francis?"
"Fuck! Pops is still in the market!" Alfred shouted from Ivan's back, anger and frustration amplifying his voice and causing Ivan to wince. Arthur cursed under his breath and was about to head for the door when a gunshot rang through the air and pierced the atmosphere. There wasn't supposed to be any gunfire. They weren't supposed to alert the guards like that! They were going to get caught, dammit! What the hell?!
"LET'S GO ALREADY!" The shout, surprisingly, came from Matthew, who was already leaping over the coffee table and hurtling toward the door.
"Wait!" Arthur hissed to get the blonde's attention, "we can't just go running out there! Not now that the guards have been alerted."
"We ain't just gonna sit here, are we? Pops is still out there!"
Gilbert frowned at the commotion going on before joining Matthew and grabbing his hand. "This is totally not awesome. Ve're leaving now, und that's final." That having been said, Gilbert kicked open the door and ran out into the fray. After an impatient nudge to the side, Ivan followed with Alfred still on his back. Arthur left the house last, desperately hoping that everything would turn out okay.
The outside world had turned to a tempest. People were screaming or huddling in corners or hiding from guards, the most of whom were knocked out cold (likely from the help of the fae). It was chaos. There was a building on fire a few houses down, the flames reaching high and starting to lick at the highly flammable wooden roofs of the surrounding houses. The structure was black and thin and looked ready to collapse. Flakes of ash danced in the wind, bringing with it suffocating smoke and unbearable heat. Animals and livestock were running rampant in the streets from the panic, screeching a cacophonous mess. It was hard to breathe and even harder to think.
"WHAT NOW?!" Arthur screamed over the sound of everything falling apart, frustration evident and panic not far behind. No one could spot Francis outside. Then the voices started.
"Over here..."
"Follow us..."
"No, this way!"
"Come, come."
"Follow! Run!"
"This way..."
The whispers came from every direction, drowning out the noise and echoing around them. It was eerie, such soft whispers surrounding and blocking the screaming that they knew was still going on. Ivan took up the best fighting stance he could and Gilbert raised his fists and rose a few inches from the ground. Matthew tensed and Arthur whipped around, searching for the source.
"Calm down! It's just the fae,"Arthur rubbed his temples before looking up and snapping, "find Francis and then lead us out!"
"Yes, fair Iggy, as you wish. Follow us..."
A small orb of light flashed at his side, skirting away to his right before dissipating. After a few seconds it popped back up beside Arthur and faded. "Thank you kindly, Wills o' the Wisp."
"You're very welcome, fair Iggy. Your lover is waiting for all of you at the stables..."
"Everyone to the stables!" Arthur turned to the group and waved them over to the right on the dirt road that led towards their new destination. He began jogging away before anyone could question him. Gilbert tugged at Matthew's sleeve before lifting them both in the air, soon overtaking Arthur and whizzing away, after a small amount of time they both turned invisible. Arthur waved a hand in front of himself and grumbled in another, ancient, language. A flash of green appeared in a bubble around him and went out. He turned back to the two still lagging behind. "Find some protection!"
A thought occurred to Alfred as the group ran down the road, away from the smoke and burning air. "Wait a sec, big guy. We should lift some guns from the guards, yeah?"
"Mm, da. That is wise." Ivan hurried over to couple of down guards and quickly let Alfred down so they could collect the guns. It took a few precious seconds to tear through clothing and find the weapons. Once they were collected, Alfred hopped onto the Russian's back again and they set off, only to find that Arthur was already out of sight. Ivan picked up as much speed as he could, hoping to find them waiting at the stables.
Ivan paused mentally, but kept running, as he saw a flicker of gray in one the small alleyways between the houses he passed. Guards. "Fredka," he shouted up, "we will be having company soon. Arm yourself."
"Roger that, Big Daddy!"
"Again with the Big Daddy," Ivan mumbled as he tucked both of his arms behind Alfred's knees and concentrated solely on getting to their destination, letting the blonde take care of any threats.
Alfred gulped as he pulled the safety off on the gun and made sure he was ready to shoot if he needed to. He really didn't want to have to kill anyone. Aim for the legs, Al. Aim for the legs. There was a click as he cocked the gun and held it steady in both hands. He aimed.
"Halt!"
BANG! BANG!
One guard down. This was going to be one hell of a ride. Worries and concerns flooded Alfred's thoughts as he tried hard to concentrate on shooting. Where's Winter? What if we don't make it out? Where the hell did Francis go? Is everyone okay? What happened to trip the alarm? What happened to the clones? Will any of us live to see tomorrow? His breathing slowed and his eyesight zeroed in on any threat, heart beat thumping louder in his ear. Everything else was drowned out. He couldn't hear a thing but a steady thump-thump, thump-thump. The only thing he felt was the weight of the gun in his hand, the warmth it held both foreign and familiar, like a friend he hadn't seen in years but couldn't quite remember in the first place. The only thing Alfred could smell was sweat and stinging smoke, it never even registered. His eyes narrowed. Time slowed. A flash of gray.
BANG!
The gunshot rang so loudly in his ears and he watched the guard fall to the side, his knee cap full of lead and and an agonizing scream of pain on his lips. Alfred didn't want to see this, hear this, do this, but at least he wasn't dead. Nor was the guard. He could handle that.
BANG!
That wasn't Alfred. There was a hiss of pain and he glanced down. Blood was the only thing that filled his vision. It wasn't his. The world tilted on it's axis and Alfred felt them fall. The ground was hard and filled with gravel and dust, pain was now radiating from his back and he couldn't breathe properly. His eyes were watering and his knuckles were turning white on his grip on the gun that he refused to release. Alfred slowly pulled himself out from under Ivan, he could hear heavy footsteps in the distance and coming closer.
Ivan was still conscious, but barely. He had hit his head on the way down and the world was fuzzy around him. He watched as Alfred hovered above him, tears forming in his crystal blue eyes. He wanted so badly to raise a hand and brush the tears away. He couldn't move. There was an intense stinging, stabbing, burning pain coming from his side. The bullet had grazed his side and the bleeding wouldn't stop. He was already starting to feel faint. He had to get up. He had to keep moving. He felt warm lips on his forehead and warm drops of water on his cheeks. Tears had fallen.
He had to think quick. He unwrapped Ivan's scarf from his neck, and re-wrapped it around his side, pulling it tight and praying it would staunch the flow. Ivan would kill him for this later, if they lived that long. He briefly traced his fingers along the numerous scars along the other's neck, the side wound would be yet another scar to add to the collection. The footsteps were getting closer. Alfred tensed and pulled a fist together, gathering all his strength and hoping against hope that one punch was all he needed.
"Get up. We must leave immediately."
The tension left as he lifted his head. Standing above him were his and Ivan's carbon copies. Franklin stood above him in a black leather jacket, jeans, and snake skin boots. A baseball bat riddled with sharp nails and drying blood was slung over his shoulder. Nikolai was behind him, in a long black coat, heavy military boots, and a blood red scarf, soon to match Ivan's own. He was armed with a bloody shovel.
"I don't know if I can. My ankle..."
"Do not whine at me. You are perfectly capable of getting up and walking. Do it."
Alfred glared at the other before huffing and lifting himself up with his arms. He got up to his knees and pushed up with his uninjured foot. At least he could stand... You can fucking do this, Al. Weren't you just telling Ivan that? Prove it. He winced as he put pressure on his ankle to step forward. It hurt, but it wasn't completely unbearable. He could do this, he really could. He took a few more shaky steps.
"Come on Mister Alfred, you're doing fine," Nikolai tried to encourage the other as he walked toward his copy. He slung Ivan's arm around his shoulder and heaved up. He staggered at the weight but dragged him on.
"Yeah," Alfred let out a trembling breath, "yeah." His grip on the gun tightened and his eyes met with the smoldering orange of Frank's. "Let's get going."
Franklin nodded sharply and waved Nikolai over, signaling for them to start going. Guards would be approaching soon and they really needed to leave. Before Alfred could take a step to follow he felt a hand cover his mouth and his nose was flooded with a strange scent. He watched as the others continued walking on, their backs to him. He couldn't even scream before everything went black.
"You are nothing but dirt," a hiss reached Alfred's ears as he slowly came back to life. The world was groggy and he couldn't concentrate on shit. He felt like shit. He took note of everything he could. He was sitting. He wasn't dead. He didn't know where he was. He was tied down. He still wasn't dead. He head hurt like hell and so did his foot and so did his back. He couldn't see clearly. He still wasn't dead. The lighting was dim and there was a man standing in front of him. He was walking closer.
"How could such a brat like you do so much damage in my life?" A cold hand gripped his chin and tilted it up. There was a low groan of pain that was probably from Alfred, he couldn't really tell. A sharp sting as he was slapped across the face. He whimpered but did nothing else.
"You are insignificant. A dirty little WRETCH. I AM A KING. A MASTER. You will not live this time. You will die as you should have so many years ago."
The man turned and walked out of Alfred's line of vision. A metal door slammed shut behind him with a clang. Well, Alfred thought belatedly with a sort of morbid humor, at least I found out where Winter is. If only I knew where I was.
His head tilted back on the wooden chair and he tested his ropes weakly. He groaned again as his headache suddenly intensified. Reality hit and he rocked forward on the chair, the force of it almost sending him toppling to the floor, chair and all.
"Fuck."
Song: Wretches and Kings by Linkin Park
:D Pleasedontkillme~
Okay, a few things. I wanna do a special for October because I love Halloween. Unfortunately, what I have in mind is too late in initiating. Next year I'm going to do it, I swear. What am I going to do exactly? Well, I'm going to write a horror type story and starting on Oct. first next year, I'll post one chapter per day. I'll make SURE I have thirty-one chapters exactly. What I want from you guys is an opinion on which type of story I should do. I've been thinking between a Zombie story (The Walking Dead style) or a Ghost story (Paranormal Activity style). Either one will most likely be RusAme and I'm good for either one. I'll post a preview description for both on my profile like I have with my other "to be written" stories.
... That was kind of long. Mm. I hope you guys liked the chapter~
See you next time!
Gilly B.