If I'm late with the next updates, I apologize in advance. I'm attempting NaNoWriMo this year, and that would be the reason. Per the norm, I only own Stranger, Seventeen, and the writing. Enjoy and please review!
I don't think. I'm up, I'm running and grabbing your arm to pull you along. The smoke and flames blind me, and the reach through the void to the dull presences I feel. Stranger is dark, painless but dark, Seventeen roils in agony, and the four larger presences I can barely feel are violently churning, stinking of blood and rage. I quickly disconnect as we move.
Dark people move in the halls, carrying guns and firing them randomly. They're masked, but I recognize the style. The SCP has found us. And there's more of them everywhere; I sense them at the edges and corners of the mansion.
I hear a hiss from next to me, and when I turn to look I see you on top of one of them, beating him(or her, I can't really tell) into the ground. Someone else draws knives and leaps out with a scream. Another person seems to glitch in and out of the air, and one of the SCP falls to the ground shrieking with bleeding eyes.
Guess I better join in.
One of them sweeps the rifle around, firing around in a large swath. My knife is in my pocket, and it comes out and kisses their skin, drawing thin threads of red over their armor and pressing into their flesh. This one falls. I move on to the next.
They keep coming, though, no matter how many we all kill. I'm in the middle of tearing into one with my fingernail, which have thickened more and sharpened, when I hear a mental scream. I drop the SCP fighter and turn. It's Seventeen, and you're there, too. Caught in a web of flies.
One of those unearthly screams, like the one when I met Masky and Hoodie, comes from me. They die very quickly, but more of them flood me and I'm thrown to the ground, dazed. The world spins and the noise stops.
When they clear, you and Seventeen are gone.
The pain floods me first, then the rage. The void hums against my mind and I scream. My path to follow the fighters is paved with bodies. I only stop when I hear the first dull mental call for me since the whole thing started.
Stranger's pinned under a piece of ceiling, and it takes me a good fifteen minutes to push the thing off of her. When she pulls herself up, gasping for breath and holding her ribs, I fly into her and wrap my arms around her. I didn't realize I was crying until I felt the cool lines clean the blood from my face.
What's wrong? she asks, pulling my face up. She lost her mask in the fighting; her hair is tangled and her face is smeared with blood and dirt.
They took Seventeen and my friend, I manage to say. I feel her stiffen, and her own rise of rage.
It'll be okay, little one, she says quietly, rubbing my back in an attempt to sooth me. We will save them, and the mansion.
Her voice goes hard. Even if we have to kill every single one of them ourselves.
I can't say I have a problem what that idea.