XXIII.

IN BLOOM

Midnight had just passed and the night had reached it's peak. The dense darkness of the night sky was brightened by the flashing colors of the many patrol units all gathered in one spot. The rain had stopped, leaving behind mud and pools of water everywhere, not to mention the pools of blood scattered about as well. Both men walked around the crime scene. Bodies, bullets and a damaged, bullet ridden truck littered about, Clearview Trailer Park was by definition a damn war zone. Only a few local renters were injured in the ensuing chaos from last night, they would live, but their insurance wouldn't.

"Detectives, just got off dispatch with highway patrol over at route 94, two vehicular collisions and a single casualty. One of the vehicle's plates matches the missing vehicle from a few nights ago." a police officer notified them both.

Gibson and Kellerman looked at each other in shock.

"What the fuck is happening here?"

8:57 PM, Three hours earlier.

"This is stupid. Yet here I am writing anyway. Doc says this is helpful, that it supposedly helps one better express themselves, instead of using words. What the fuck do I know right? "

Lupa stopped writing and massaged her forehead, her headaches coming and going all day. The displeasure of her current state of mind was too great to possibly reduce to a normal level. Dad had been keeping an eye on her, but unlike before when it was out of distrust now it was purely out of genuine concern. She couldn't stop rolling her eyes hard at the man, but at least he was trying, she could admit that much.

"Loan invited me to her room again and again I said no. Not angry at her, but this new sisterly attitude of hers is going to take time getting used too. She's still a fucking neet, don't get mistaken. At least she treats me like a human being. Lyra, fucking hates my guts."

Lupa ceased her writing again, taking in a deep breath as her heart gave out a small aching pain at the thought of her older sister. Those cruel words Lyra threw at her had hurt her, it was the worst thing that anyone had ever said to her, but given the circumstances, Lupa understood and actually accepted them with a heavy heart. It was hard to accept everything that has happened, she lost her only brother, she now feels to have lost a sister too.

"It's okay. I hate myself too."

Someone knocked at her door. Lincoln's face came into view as he slightly opened the door enough for both his eyes to see inside the room. He saw his daughter sitting on the desk writing on the journal that Clyde had giving her. Curiosity wanted him to read her written thoughts, but he needed to respect her privacy. Only when she wanted to open up on her own would he ask, for now his emotional support was all he would give her.

"Hey, want to watch a movie? Lynn and Loan are already downstairs." He smiled at her.

"Nah, head hurts."

Lincoln lowered his gaze, giving a small frown to her response, "Okay, rest up. Love you."

Closing the door, Lupa was left alone with her thoughts again. What a strange thing for her father to tell her, her of all people. Did he already forget that she got his only son killed, little ol' don't give a fuck about the consequences. Scream at her, hit her, disown her, she'll accept all the above, sympathy for this white haired fuck up is not what she wants. Now she knew better and it still didn't matter, her dreams would constantly remind her of it.

She wondered if Lyra was having similar nightmares of that night, or more painfully appalling for the young goth; dreams in which Lyra happily allowed her to suffer Lemy's fate instead of him.

"I'm sorry." Lupa choked up, the pain in her voice evident as both her eyes became watery.

Why did it have to hurt so God damn much?

"Didn't want to join?" Lynn munched on her bowl of popcorn.

"No." Lincoln said in defeat.

"I know it's a broken record, but give her time." Lynn motioned him to sit next to her.

Loan sat on the opposite end of the couch, covered in her own blanket, just her face exposed. She didn't speak, but her simple frown said as much regarding Lupa's rejection at movie night with them all. Earlier she had invited her, on multiple occasions to play videogames with her all ending with the same repeated words, No, thanks, she felt useless. To be quiet honest she has always felt useless, to her mother most importantly, but to her father, aunts and siblings as well. She's the oldest, yet never before had she ever desired or be gifted the mantle of elder leadership, that had always been shared between Liena and Lyra. Her social anxiety prevented her from seeking change or even from interacting with others, and yes that included her own flesh and blood.

That was no longer the case.

Her brother's death, one of the few people she trusted and felt comfort with his presence had ruined that perfect portrait. Death was not something she daily thought about, despite her many issues. Witnessing firsthand just how cruel it can devastate many people, herself included made her fear it greatly now and right now Loan feared for both of her sisters' well-being.

Loan was far from perfect, but apparently something within that had laid either dormant or locked away had been provoked. It first came out when she confronted Lyra, creating a barricade between the erratic teen and the fleeing goth. Is this what it meant and felt like to be a big sister? She wasn't certain, gnawing at the many mistakes she could and would produce, not entirely confident in herself at all to pick up that responsibility. It was just her and Lupa together for the rest of this hollow summer. She had to try, even if she completely sucked at it, she owed it that much to her brother who had always held her hand regardless of the situation.

As the movie started, Loan could only think about them both. Lupa, just like herself had transformed into a complete shut in. Lyra...she lost the boy she loved, in more ways than one. Loan had noticed her true emotions for their younger brother longer than anyone else, and she secretly watched their interactions out of curiosity and unashamed perversion. She fondly remembers squealing with joy when soon found out about their official hook up, a fairy-tale that ended way too soon. Lyra was now broken and Loan had witnessed first hand the demon that had secretly resided inside her good-hearted soul. Loan could never and would never again complain about her social problems again, not after seeing the true face of tragedy in human form.

Wherever she may be, Loan was hoping that Lyra was safe. She was too worried about her sister allowing herself to get in harm's way on purpose. Great, her anxiety had just reached a new high, having to think about what Lyra may be up to, even at this very moment.

9:25 PM, 4.8 miles away

"Can you walk?"

Lyra without much care lifted him up to a sitting position, despite his painful groans. They needed to get out of here, waiting for the police was not a desired option for the both of them. This whole situation had turned an unexpected 180 degree into the nearest contaminated shit creek. Lyra had no choice, but to assist her would be assassination target against another group of assassins here to commit the same deed as her. She'd rather much just blow his brains out and jump out the nearest window. Unfortunately, this quick thinking asshole gave her a good reason to keep him alive, lucky him.

"Hurts like a bitch... don't expect me to run." Francis winced as he slowly dragged himself towards the kitchen counter.

"Francis! Hand over the money and I promise to shoot both your legs only!" The leader of the hit squad yelled out.

Fuck, despite having shed enough blood to lock her for life, Lyra was finally feeling the fear creeping up on her. Before, she was either in control or too enraged to care about her surroundings, now, it was suddenly weighing heavy on her. Trapped, surrounded and outnumbered, she couldn't have felt this extremely scared since her first kill. Alas, with great determination, she kept her head above water, not allowing her emotions to get the better of her. Her lost love was strong enough to counter the growing fear, she was going to get out of this and continue her mission.

"Bullshit..." Francis scowled, "The Machine Guns don't show mercy! Taking me for a fucking amateur, those cocky dumbasses!"

"Hey! Bitch about it later, we need to bail!" Lyra crouched by the table pistol in hand, harshly whispering at him.

"That handgun ain't gonna do shit against them all. Lucky me I got us some extra firepower, always knew this day would come eventually." Francis gave Lyra a smug smile as he pulled out a switchblade from his pocket.

"I gave you my word, will you keep yours?"

Lyra eyed him and him in return. Could she trust him? Given the dire situation, she had agreed, but it was a spur of the moment. Right now, she wondered if he wouldn't toss her to the wolves awaiting outside and make a run for it. Again she would much rather put a bullet in his face, but that fucking proposition...damn him.

"Yes." Lyra responded

Francis motioned her over. Lyra crouched over to him and extended her tied up hands, handgun still gripped. With the blade switched out he carefully placed it underneath the wire and pulled up, snapping it in half. Now freely able to move her arms, Lyra immediately grabbed the other handgun and tightly held them both, aiming them both up to the ceiling as she cautiously eyes the front door. She had at best around 30 rounds in total and had only shot and killed three times, all close range. This was going to be her first real gunfight.

"I'm not going to pray." Lyra muttered.

"You don't have to..." Francis coughed, his wound starting to take a toll on him, "Check the closet, big black...bag and a backpack too."

Still crouching, Lyra reached and opened the closet door. She found both the items in place as he had said. Ignoring the constant threats coming from outside, she unzipped the bigger bag. Much like a star-struck fan attending her first live concert, Lyra couldn't hide her astonishment at the new weaponry now at her disposal.

"Stop stalling and come out!"

"Come and get me then you blooming bellend!" Francis finally retorted in frustration at his attacker.

Lyra walked back to him with both bags in hand. Francis grabbed the larger bag and pulled out a small machine gun with a curved ammunition clip. That was just one, inside the duffle bag was another similar machine gun; two at a price for one anyone? A sawed off pump action shotgun, another handgun and a shit tone of ammo. Yeah, the odds were now even.

"Hurry up and grab one already!"

Obeying, she grabbed the shotgun and held it in her hands, feeling it's weight and cold metal. She wasn't expecting to graduate up the totem pole of firearms giving her lack of resources, guess her wish got granted after all. She wondered if God was purposely making things harder for her, or easier, probably hoping either route would mentally break her...again and have her crawling back to Him for mercy and forgiveness. Lyra snorted at the thought, only if he can resurrect Lemy, which He won't, would she let it go and return back to His presence. She didn't give a rat's ass how heaven now viewed her, disgust, disappointment or sadness; she was about to claim more souls for Lucifer in a few minutes.

"Do you know how... how to work that piece...in your hands girl?" He was starting to feel the pain, luckily the bullet had went right through, no need for a pair of tweezers prodding inside the bullet hole.

"No." Lyra kept it simple.

"Fucking amateurs." He rolled his eyes at her, "It's already loaded, just pump back the fore end...after every shot!"

The front door was kicked opened without warning and in rushed in a man, giving out a battle cry. Both hands held on to a shotgun that he fully intended to use, unfortunately for him he failed to focus his eyesight directly about two feet below him on the floor. In an instant, Lyra whipped the shotgun around, pumped the fore end and pulled the trigger on instinct. The man was blasted on the chest and he went flying backwards to the ground outside. Lyra for her part got a kick out of the recoil for this new level of firepower. Her hands trembled as the lingering effects of force the gun had produced and her ears rang out in pain as the gunshot was the loudest one closest to her yet. Lyra was in a sudden stupor, like, holy fuck! Did she just do that? Exploded a grown man's chest with a shotgun shell, not overkill, but still...

'That...wow!' Lyra's fears and concerns were replaced with pure adrenaline now.

"Hov! You motherfucker!"

The shooting commenced shortly after, not happy they took the first loss maybe? Lyra and Francis ducked further as bullets flew above them in the numbers. Francis laid next to the door, Lyra on the other side. This was it.

"Wait for them to pause!"

And they did, after a few more seconds the shooting stopped, those outside most likely reloading their empty clips. Once that happened both immediately aimed to the outside. Lyra found her target standing in the open, widely exposed for a quick kill. Without hesitation she squeezed the trigger and the barrel of her gun burst out a barrage of pellets. Of course forgetting to firmly grasp the gun, the recoil kicked Lyra hard in the shoulder, as well caused her to miss her intended spot. The gang member got hit on the left arm entirely, dropping his apparent submachine gun, an Uzi, to the ground as he yelped in pain. The others ran for cover as Francis began to spray his gun wildly at them all. Without thinking, Lyra leaped out the door and down to the hard concrete next to the stationary truck, thank God for the knee pads and extra plastic quasi-armor.

"Scatter you fucking idiots! Scatter!"

Most of them failed to react on time for Francis had already claimed two kills in a matter of seconds, one of them, the same guy Lyra had shredded his arm whole fell dead to the ground. She didn't want to admit it out loud, but Lyra's panic meter was rising by the second and also by the bullets being exchanged out in the open. This was bad, she needed to regain control, she could not allow this very spot to be marked as her grave. Still laying on the ground she looked up as loud bursts were being traded and saw a reason to focus. One of the thugs was hiding behind the northern side of the trailer, peeking as little as possible, he quickly noticed her. Lyra snapped out of it and aimed the barrel of her shotgun just as he moved out of cover and did the same, unfortunately, he was too slow.

Another burst of lethal power struck the thug and a portion of the wall, he gave out a quick scream of pain and disappeared behind the wall. Now, she wasn't certain if she actually killed him, but she did hit him and that was satisfying enough for her. Getting up to her knees, she attempted to take a quick peek, but a bullet flying right next to her head had decided that choice for her instead. Grinding her teeth in frustration, Lyra couldn't find an opening to take out whatever gang bangers remained.

'Just bail already!' She thought.

Looking back at the door entrance, which at this point was riddled with over a hundred bullet holes, she continued to remind herself of the bigger picture.

"Gotta save that fucking prick!' Lyra angrily reminded herself.

With all shooters concentrated on the shitty trailer, Lyra crouched around the truck and made it to the front end of it, away from the hot zone, hiding behind a soaked couch that was just laying out there. Again, she pulled from cover and to her luck had a free shot at one of the two still remaining. To far away to possibly critically hit them, she went for something extremely stupid beyond any logical measure.

With adrenaline rushing in her veins she jumped out of cover, with shotgun in hand and ran right at them both. The extensive gunfire must've damaged their hearing, because Lyra was emitting a war cry at them as she raised her gun and fired from the hip. Noticing her far too late, Lyra completely emptied her chamber of shells as she relentlessly opened fire on the last two remaining. Three slugs were all that were expended, every inch of their bodies were punctured with metallic pellets. The closest one got shot directly in the chest, some of the scatter shot hitting his partner behind him too. The second shot destroyed his face as a burst of red blood and flesh exploded where it used to be. The last thug in her line of sight had fallen to the ground in shock and slight pain from the buck shot that hit him. Before getting a chance to raise his gun, Lyra shot him point blank in the face as well with similar results as the first. She was extremely livid and allowed her body to take control and the flesh was itching for more blood to spill.

Once empty, Lyra panted heavily, her lungs exhausted, her mind a den of homicides and her eyes wild as ever as she stared at the now deceased men who had been brutalized up close on her behalf. It all came back to her quickly, just how far off the deep end she had journeyed into. She was murdering by the digits now, soon to be double if she allowed it to continue. For just a brief second the innocence in her eyes returned, fearful of what she had fully become.

"Fuck, you a fucking lunatic there girl! You certain never haven't used a gun before?" Francis yelled from the door, slowly climbing down the steps with some difficulty, "Come, hurry up you bloody twat!"

Lyra snapped out of her mental dilemma, "Shut the fuck up!"

The glint in her eyes replaced by her now common hardened glare. She walked up to him who was leaning on to the truck, catching air as he grabbed his gunshot wound. Surprising that he was still alive, maybe it wasn't as lethal as she had earlier presumed, good to know, he has some questions to answer anyhow. He struggled to lift both bags on each hand, she felt generous enough to lend a small hand. Grabbing one bag, it was yanked away from her, "ah nah, I'll h-hold...this one." He handed her the larger bag containing all the weapons. Which she casually tossed in the back of the pickup.

Both stood still, facing each other, ignoring the light rain that had was damping their clothes and heads. Lyra clutched the shotgun tighter, despite it being empty she was ready to club him over the head with it, "They're all dead...now talk."

"Right..." He warily eyed her, intentions both clear and dangerous. Those blue eyes of hers, radiating with pure homicidal urges, her entire body specifically her hands and the shotgun to an extension, shaking with subtly. Was this quick shoot out taking a toll on her nerves? No, it wasn't panic or fear, it was pure excitement, the rush that a soldier or cop gets after bloody combat, she was more alive than ever. She impatiently awaited his response, now.

Unfortunately that would have to wait for now, for more gunshots came at them from behind. Lyra grabbed him. by the shoulder and roughly dragged him to the ground behind cover as more bullets hit his truck. More of them had appeared, out of the darkness and into the fray.

"Who the fuck did you piss off?" Lyra angrily exclaimed.

"Some peddling hotshot fuck is who!" Francis replied back.

The gunfire continued on as both remained hidden. This was by far the most interesting and surreal night of her young life, so far at least. Currently trapped, they had to move ahead, the truck was a no go at this point. Just a giant moving target, they'll get gunned down quicker than they can reverse out of the lot and switch to drive to move forward. Also during the time she was taking cover behind said vehicle it was probably shot up to hell with many bullets having damaged it whole, she was certain to have heard one tire get blown up if memory recalled.

"Bloody hell, these blokes won't let up will they?" Francis said, swinging the backpack over his shoulder

"I just want a fucking name." Lyra muttered, the stress building up inside her.

"You'll get more than that, right now we got to survive this fucking ambush first! Francis added as he raised his submachine in the air out of cover and fired blindly at the direction of their attackers, "That shotgun is empty, either reload or grab something else!"

Lyra begrudgingly nodded and as quick as she could hopped to her feet reached out into the bed of the pickup and yanked the weapons bag down with her. So far not a single bullet had scrapped her or critically wounded her, lucky indeed. She decided to try something different and grabbed both handguns, checking if they were loaded first. Zipping the bag she placed it over her back as she held both guns in hands. Now ready both needed to get the fuck out of this death trap, police would show up in full force if they chose to make a stand, it was time to flee.

"You're shot, so follow me." Lyra ordered and fired a single shot at one of the gang members, "Keep your head down. Don't forget, I need it."

Hyping herself up as much as possible, Lyra jumped out from the safety of the truck and ran towards the next trailer home upfront. Dual wielding she randomly fired both guns at the direction of the other shooters, hitting one of them in the arm and missing the other. The bullets flew past her as she slammed herself against the safety of the home. Heart pounding loudly, Lyra couldn't place her breathing under control, this night was turning into a fucking riot.

"What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?" She repeated herself as she couldn't wrap her head around how badly this simple objective had turned out. A crack of thunder added more noise to this hectic night, the rain now pouring hard.

"I just learned how to fire a shotgun for the first time! What's with all this extra bullshit?" Lyra complained to the stars as she waved over to Francis.

It was his turn to run as Lyra began providing cover. Despite being wounded he was fast on his feet and reached her as she successfully shot one of the gangster's directly on the forehead, falling backwards into the mud that the current rain was mass producing.

"Girl you're on a kill streak. What's your background?"" He complimented her.

"Not now!" Lyra rolled her eyes at him, she was getting a headache for sure.

Lyra saw one of them running for a different position and aimed both handguns at him. Multiple gunshots joined the current chorus of the night and all hit their intended target as he spun around and landed on his back, dead in the mud and above the rainfall. The others retreated further ahead, creating a distance in order to continue their shootout.

"Come on!" Lyra elbowed Francis, escorting him further out into the main entrance and only exit out of this fucking trailer park.

Behind her Francis fired his submachine gun, killing another gangster who unwisely stepped out of cover for a brief second. Lyra kept running through the mud and puddles when she felt a strong object strike her in the shoulder. Crying out in shock she collapsed to the ground in one knees as she recoiled from the sudden shot. The surge of adrenaline kept her from fully allowing the blow from knocking her out of the game, raising both pistols she angrily opened fire on the direction of the shooter.

"Fuck you!" Lyra yelled out as Francis lifted her up and helped walk her over to the next area of cover. A dumpster.

"Shit! oh shit!" Lyra lightly bashed her head in pain against the metallic structure.

Francis being kind enough moved her jacket to examine the gun wound. The bullet had hit her indeed, but it got lodged right into her shoulder pad instead. The fact that it actually managed to get stopped at all was a miracle on it's own, a chest protector of this caliber is not meant to stop bullets, this was a genuine one of kind unusual incident and she would be thankful for it.

"You...have no idea just how bloody lucky you are right now." He told her.

"Speak...for yourself." She grunted.

Francis' wound was still fresh, but lady luck was also on his side as she was on Lyra's. The bullet had gone directly through, he was quick enough to wrap enough bandages and cotton around his waist to pressure shut the leaking of any blood while she had been cleaning up outside with his shotgun. Of course he couldn't be like this forever, the wound needed to get disinfected and treated properly.

"I'll live, let's go."

As he got to his feet he got clocked right on the face by a rear end of a handgun. The thug appeared from the other side of the dumpster, having sneaked his way across and aimed for the kill. Lyra raised her guns up and emptied the remaining bullets into his chest and face, mostly his face. As Lyra tried to get back up she was placed into a chokehold by an unseen force.

"Oh hell no! All my friends are dead, I'm killing both of you fucks, with my bare hands!" The remaining thug said, adding more pressure to Lyra's throat.

Francis was still down and too slow to respond, Lyra was thrashing about, fighting to stay unconscious, fighting against the the painful feeling of her throat getting crushed. She had dropped both handguns to the ground, so no blunt weapons available to whack him over the head with. Right now as the rain poured and a mixture of blood and mud decorated the area, Lyra's life was slowly fading out.

Until she saw Lemy's pale battered face.

Snapping out of it, she launched her body towards him and thanks to the slippery mud and grass he fell backwards while still holding on to her. On the way down he bashed the back of his skull with a porcelain plant pot. His arms now loose, Lyra got up and took in a quick gasp of air before crawling her way to the bag. Just as she unzipped the bag she got dragged back by the feet as the thug began punching her in the ribs, albeit her chest protector did it's intended job. Lyra reached over despite the beating and grabbed something she had been looking forward to trying out.

Turning her body around she got decked with a solid punch to the face as she swung the combat axe at him. For a brief second everything in her vision turned bright white followed by mass pain in her cheek. Her attacker on the other hand was grasping his throat with both hands as the blood oozed through his fingers, a perfect cut. Lyra once again possessed by her rage punched him back, dropping him back on the ground and proceeded to wildly hack his face off with the axe.

Needles to say, he was beyond dead and unrecognizable once she stopped herself. Blood splattered on her jacket and face, she jammed the axe into his face where it remained wedged in. She remained on her knees, wiping away the blood from her eyes.

"Girl... you're scaring me." Francis replied behind her.

Lyra, still kneeling moved only her head to directly see him behind her. Her wet hair and bloody face added to her psychotic look, but the hate in her eyes build up an aura of untamed violence. Francis being a career criminal, having dealt with the worse was deeply spooked by this teenage girl. To believe that all of this was happening because of her dead brother, it left him deeply scared. All that red in her face, yet the blue in her eyes was the most haunting of it all.

"Let's go." Lyra calmly responded.

That had been the last of them. Lyra and Francis could now safely reach the front entrance. Without a car they had no choice but to walk, but Lyra wasn't going to do that anyhow. As far as she knew everybody that wanted him dead is dead, no need to escort any further. She stood still as Francis dialed a number on his phone, axe still in hand, staring at him with contempt. He cursed as whoever he was calling didn't immediately answer, before noticing her, just standing there.

"Talk."

Lyra grip on the axe strengthen as she locked eyes with the man before her. Just because she saved his life from others, didn't mean she wasn't going to personally claim it for herself either. She did her job, kept her word, now it's his choice to live or die.

"Right..." Francis answered. Putting away his cellphone to fully focus on her.

Before he had a chance to utter a word a burst of multiple shots reclaimed the silence of the night. A sudden scorching burn pierced the skin in her shoulder, same where her knife wound was located. Francis fell to the ground as a barrage of bullets exploded into his chest, blood spurting out, most landing on Lyra's jacket and chest protector. Landing down hard on the ground, Lyra was lucky enough to avoid sudden death at that moment. Looking back up, it shocked her to see the same thug who she was so certain to had killed over by the first trailer as he hid behind it, bloodied face and all executing a drive by in a white car.

As he sped off out of the trailer park, Lyra looked back at Francis, now in a pool of his own blood.

"NO!"

She got to her knees and lifted him up from the collar of his tainted shirt, his dead weight giving in, but her anger and anguish at possibly losing her only major clue granted her an impressive strength. He was already at death's door, blood running out his mouth and the kindle in his eyes slowly dying out. This was his end.

"Tell me! Who are they? Who killed my brother!?" Lyra yelled at him, demanding he answer before passing of into the afterlife.

"Uh...D...Motor C-Gu-*urk*...Di-." He could hardly speak anymore, just gargles of his own blood slowly suffocating him while the rest poured out from his fresh wounds.

"Please...tell me!" Lyra cried out, her heart in pain, not for him, but for the damnation of being so close yet already so far away.

"D-D-*cough*...Di-Dice...him."

In the end despite Lyra failing to both protect and get him to safety he remained a man of his word and finally gave the vengeful teen the name she had been desperately searching for.

Taking it in she felt a new sensation through her being, one that was internally congratulating her on a successful accomplishment. Dropping his body back to the ground she got back on her feet as she looked at the carnage around her. In the distance the sirens of many police cruisers were fast approaching, she needed to flee, yet her mind was oddly at peace, she continued to look around, noticing a few of the trailer residents starting to come out of hiding. Placing her hood back over her head she reached out for the duffle bag containing the cache of weapons and slung it over her back, she too also took the backpack as well, having a good idea of the contents it was holding.

Running towards the fence, she tossed the bigger bag over before attempting her climb up. That's when she felt it...the stinging pain in her arm, the blood was still rushing, but the sensation of feel had returned to her. Her upper arm muscles hissed in pain as she applied force climbing over the fence.

"Fuck!" Lyra complained, placing her hand in the injured arm.

She had no idea how serious the gun shot wound was, but she couldn't afford the time to check, the cops were just around the corner and the other residents may have grabbed their own weapons and started patrolling the perimeter. Lyra picked up the bag with her good arm and jogged towards her parked car. The mud created from the constant rain slowing her steps, but regardless she made it over and immediately tossed everything inside and cracked on the engine.

Kicking out mud into the air behind her, she did a quick turn which almost caused her to skit off the main road. She drove wildly away from the area, reaching 60 miles in seconds as the engine choked out the fumes it produced. Erratic breathing and a dazed, wild look in both eyes, Lyra kept only seeing forward and ignoring all her surroundings on the road ahead. So much had just occurred, it wasn't planned, it wasn't destiny, but these series of events had, despite the injuries and casualties, finally provided Lyra what she had been searching for.

"Dice? Dice? Dice?" Lyra repeated the word in a trance, searching any possible links or faces associated with said nickname. Of all the faces she could muster to visualize, none of them clicked at all with said name.

"Who the fuck is Dice?" Lyra bemoaned.

And just like that, it all came to her, the one memory she needed to find and unlock.

"Have no regrets. If he means the world to you and you are 100% certain that he is the one...then don't fall on your ass, do what you gotta do, show no regrets for your actions because in the end it's not for him or you it's for both."

"Thanks."

"Sure, its not everyday I help a lost soul in this shit world. I very much prefer to fuck shit up, but it is what it is."

"I'm Lyra by the way."

"Pretty name. D-ahhh, Dice."

Lyra was stunned. She was absolutely shocked, paralyzed and above all appalled. He was right there across from her, talking to her, consoling her and she had fully accepted his words as an act of kindness. She remained dazed with this cold revelation that she failed to notice and hear the upcoming car that honked at her, having crossed to the opposite lane.

The crash that followed was a highly disastrous one. The airbag deployed itself as Lyra's body shook in accordance to the gravity of the crash, thank God for a seatbelt. The entire front bumper of the car was gone and crushed in, the other driver's vehicle was equally damaged to the same degree. Lyra's car flew to the side, rotating to a 180 degree and the other flipped over and rolled a couple of times before stopping, upside down.

As the air bag deflated, Lyra's expression didn't change, it remained the same on the verge of panic with widened eyes. A bloody nose and a small cut over her left eyebrow, Lyra was too lost in her own thoughts to recognize what had just happened to her.

"Ahhhh!" Lyra screamed in agony, in anger and with a full broken heart, slamming into the steering wheel with closed fists.

She got her name.

Sell the kids for food

Weather changes moods

Spring is here again

Reproductive glands

He's the one ( 2x )

Who likes all our pretty songs

And he likes to sing along

And he likes to shoot his gun

But he knows not what it means

Knows not what it means