XXV.

SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT

Better were the days before the modern songs. Days in which the world was simplistic in appearance and highly colorful in the eyes of a younger girl. The innocence of a cheerful child, unaware of the cruel future she would be dealt with. Those days are gone. That girl alongside her hopes and dreams was gone. Lyra sat all alone with evil surrounding her; darkness in her heart and murder on her mind. His memories now the only remedy to ease her pain. Her brother's grave now her only alter. Her lover's murderers still at large. Her promise, all that matters.

A full day has passed since she agreed to speak to Sam. Another sister she had just learned about. A mother she still refuses to contact, yet their shared memories won't stop harassing her. A broken family that needs her support, too bad her shame is keeping her away.

"...Lyra..."

"Lyra..."

"Earth to Lyra, hello?"

She came back to reality as the snapping of two fingers rearranged her senses. Terry stood next to her, eyeing her with worry as the young vigilante stood in place, with a gun wrapped around her hands.

"I'm here." Lyra said.

"You kinda dozed off there and holding that piece in your hands was a concern for that matter." Terry explained.

"Sorry."

Lyra refocused on her initial task at hand. Concentrating once more she lifted her weapon and took aim. The bottle ahead of her stood in place awaiting it's destruction as the teenager took her time to aim down her sights. Terry backed away a couple of feet and put on her earplugs. After a few more seconds of aiming she squeezed the trigger and the bullet came out roaring.

The bullet missed it's target.

"Hmph..." She aimed again and fired again and again and again.

One of the bullets finally exploded the glass bottle, nothing more than five wasted casings to hit a single immovable target. Lyra glared at her gun, feeling frustrated at her lack of proper aim. That night she managed to nail all of them , why was she suddenly struggling at this moment? Some of those kills were sure hard to score from the distance she was firing, yet an absolute amateur as herself managed to hit them all.

"You suck."

Lyra lowered down her gun, "Thanks... really, I do." The sarcasm hard to miss.

"Now I'm certain that your previous encounters were nothing but shear fucking luck." Terry replied back to Lyra who was putting her gun away.

"Maybe." Lyra walked over to the car and sat on the hood.

They had driven out of town to conduct some target practice in the deep woods of Michigan. Nobody around for many miles to interrupt them or get alerted to the gunfire. She needed to practice, like Terry stated; Lyra could only get lucky so many times. Eventually she's going to fuck up and that would be the end of this story. Just another corpse for the police to collect, another relative lost to the gang violence, another child that two parents had lost and a broken promise that she failed to uphold. That shootout from many nights ago made her realize that shit was more complicated that she initially thought. Junkies, hooligans and vagabonds, all easy pickings, the lowest tier in society, those she could handle. A dangerous street gang that deals in narcotics? That's a new stage level for her. She needs to upgrade before proceeding any further on.

It was getting late, friends and family might get curious of her whereabouts. She can come again tomorrow and practice further more. After all she's got enough ammunition to spend and the money to purchase more. Then again, she needs to find a shady arms dealer first to make such a transaction. One step a time, she'll figure it out.

"Let's go." Lyra waved over to Terry and both got inside the vehicle.

"You sure you don't want me to give that pistol a try?" Terry took the driver's seat.

"No."

"I just want to know the feel is all."

"No."

Terry rolled her eyes and shifted gears. Both girls drove out from their secluded spot and on to the main lonely road, back to Royal Woods. As they drove back, Lyra only stared out the window, dully looking past all the pastures they drove by, hypnotized by the beauty of the countryside. Despite being a small town girl, she never truly experienced the outdoors. The wilderness and remote, peaceful regions of the land. A she kept starring, she figured that her and Lemy would have loved to rent a nice cabin way out here and live in solitude and peace.

Not anymore.

"Thanks... for helping. You didn't have to, but... thank you." She said without looking back at Terry.

"Sure."

The rest of the ride back to town held no more conversations with the radio being the only source of noise and distraction for the two. Lyra shut her eyes and relaxed her mind, taking in the small window of peace at her disposal. A peace that was on a short timer, for her war was eternal.

June 26th

#04

My dreams haven't changed. They still haunt me everytime I close my eyes. I wake up in the middle of the night sweating and gasping. Choking on my own breath. Too terrified to close my eyes. These nightmares will not end.

Fuck these dreams. Fuck that night. Fuck does animals. Fuck it all.

Lacy called today. Nice to hear her having a great time at her summer camp. Always great at hiding the pain with that damn stupid smile. He died in my arms, she will never be hurting as much as me.

Better me than her if I must say, don't ever want to see her lose that smile anyways.

Dad's been acting like a caretaker. He already was one, but he's actually trying for once. I don't know how to feel about him. Before it was simple. Now I'm just too tired to have any hate in my heart. I don't feel like doing much anymore. I guess I can say "about damn time." to him, but that's too cruel even for me. Mom was right all along.

Death changes people.

Liby keeps on prying. Wants the full details of that night for her stupid detective work. I told her to fuck off. I didn't really mean it like that. I just don't like to remember that night. I don't want to remember that night. But that's all that's ever on my mind.

Maybe this is my punishment?

Maybe Lyra was right and there is a God after all. He must hate me so much.

Closing her journal, Lupa placed down the pen and rested her head against the couch and tried to imagine anything at all that could ease her troubled thoughts. They all went back to Lyra. The hatred in those crazed blue eyes was haunting. All aimed at her, the troublemaker, incest abomination that sent her older sister's lover to the grave. Everybody kept telling her that it wasn't her fault. That it was a random event, an unfortunate coincidence, the fates rolled a pair of dice and this was the outcome. However if Lyra said it was her fault, then it really was her fault. Her words are what mattered the most to her, above anyone else, Lyra's judgement was her greatest pain.

Loan came down the stairs to refill on more soda cans when she spotted her younger sister alone and silent, "Hey." she said, gaining Lupa's attention.

"Hey." Lupa said back, not much emotion in her response.

Loan ignored her initial objective and approached her sister, sitting next to her. Lupa didn't mind her presence and kept on flipping through the channels of the television.

"... How's your writing going?"

"Steady."

"T... that's great." Loan twirled her fingers, "Do...do you...want to hang out in my room? F-For a while a-at least?"

Lupa eyed her before looking back at the screen, "Nah... I'm fine."

"O...okay. I-It's okay." Loan awkwardly replied. Not having any idea on what to do or say next she stood went to the kitchen for a refill then headed back up the stairs.

"Hey Loan?" Lupa called out to her.

Loan stopped to look at Lupa who remained laying on the sofa. She was looking away from Loan, but she wasn't ignoring her either.

"Thank you...Thank you for trying."

Loan said nothing at first, actually bewildered at hearing the younger girl speaking with calm sincerity. Coming back to her senses, the oldest of the kids returned the appreciation with a gentle smile. One step at a time. The pain was real, but wounds do heal.

The day was long, but her patience was short. Despite all the past events and her many nightly strolls she was nowhere near to finding the ones responsible. She had a name, but as far as she's tried, it doesn't ring to anyone around. Terry had done her own digging into the matter, asking questions to known acquaintances who are more in tune with that side of the world. Outcasts, potheads, nobodies, the likes that society has disowned and forgotten, the ones that can operate and understand the criminal underworld. Most had yet to hear of a man called Dice or anyone associated with that name.

Aside from feeling restlessness, Lyra was starting to feel the effects of misery again.

That whole day after arriving back to town she locked herself up in her motel room and brooded the entire time. Lights off, curtains dropped, nothing but darkness to keep her company during her hour of daily pain.

Laying down on the bathtub, fully clothed with a gun in hand, she spent that time alone to lounge in self pity and the ever present heartache. Holding his bandana in hand, she somberly eyed it, played with it; simply admired it wholesomely. The only earthly possession that meant the world to him and now it meant the same to her. Resting her gun on her chest she used both hands to tie the cherished bandana around her head. Fully tighten she embraced the feel of the fabric pressing against her head. Through its sensation she could feel his touch again. Placing her boot on the edge of the bathtub she grabbed her gun again and pulled out the clip. Depressed as she was her itch was still as willing, pulling on the trigger the hammer of the gun went of with a click of the metals colliding. She repeated the process many times, always picturing his face. Always imagining the bullets going into his face. Her pain was great, but her lust for murder was greater.

"I'm sorry for taking so long." Lyra spoke to no one but herself, "I'm trying. I'm really trying to find them, Lem. I keep having too many distractions and... detours, it's frustrating.

She got up from the bathtub and sat down on the edge, "Terry wants to help, can you believe that? Didn't expect that from her at all. I don't want to lose more people Lemy. I really don't, so the quicker I can get this done the better."

She got to her feet and walked out the bathroom and fell on the bed facing up, "I can't go back. Home is not home anymore, I destroyed that on my own. Once I kill the monsters that took you from us... I'm leaving. There's no coming back. Please take care of them all from up there in the big blue sky."

After that was all said and done, she placed away her gun, tooked off her boots and jacket too. Resting her head on a pillow Lyra went to sleep, hoping to meet her brother in the land of dreams.

Sometime later her phone began to ring out. Waking from her slumber she annoyingly reached for the phone. Still groggy didn't bother to check the name as she answered the incoming call, "Who the hell is it?

"Lyra I found something!"

The sky was dark now, sun gone and the beings of the night emerging from their hidden spots. Lyra reached the location of the meet up that Terry had set up. A friend of a friend had supposed knowledge of the men she has been searching for. It took long enough, but this was a step closer to the end.

As the lamp posts across town came to life, she reached her destination in hand. Another part of town that she could not recognize, not because of the unfamiliarity, but because she could now see and identity the corruption everywhere. The infection was spreading and her small town was slowly beginning to show the many negative symptoms as of that result. It was all on them, it was all on Dice and his ilk. She needed to remove the cancer as quickly as possible.

Up ahead Terry was waiting for her, standing by the entrance of an alleyway.

"This better be real." Lyra cut to the chase.

"His name's Quick. He's been about that circle of life, just hear him out. He's down there." Terry pointed down the alley where a person with a grey hoodie mingled about.

Lyra nodded and turned to meet this dubious man.

"Don't kill him, please." Terry begged.

"Unless he draws first." Lyra replied back as she continued on walking towards the man.

Upon closer inspection the would be informant was a young man, no more than probably 21 or 24, somewhere around that age rage. Tall and lanky he clearly didn't eat much or neglected it entirely. The bags under his eyes indicated a lack of sleep and his somewhat pale complexion was enough to deduce that he was mostly a shut in, not a fan of the sun or fresh air she concluded. Lyra stood at least an arm's length from the guy, already on a defensive stance. She's currently carrying a gun and a pocket knife. Just let him try anything, she was actually hoping he would do something stupid. It's been a while since her last kill hasn't it?

"You've got something for me?" Lyra calmly asked.

"I may have heard a thing or two." His voice was raspy for his age.

"Share." Lyra ordered.

"Yo, Terry promised a reward. Why go through all this trouble and not get anything in return." Quick responded back.

"Go fucking figure." Lyra rolled her eyes.

"Life ain't cheap, we only have one to spent." He reached for his pocket, but Lyra immediately pulled out her pistol and aimed it at his face.

"Woah!" Take it easy! Fuck!" Quick lifted up his hands in surrender. On his left hand a cheap zippo lighter and a cigarette in tow. That explains his fucked up vocals. Lyra lowered the gun but kept her eyes on him, menacing him with just her stare alone. He carefully lowered his hands and lighted up his smoke.

"Fucking dodgy ain't ya?" He inhaled the smoke before releasing it through his nostrils, "Then again anyone who's about the life and plays the game is an idiot if they're not."

"I don't play games. I want names." Lyra tucked away the gun and crossed her arms, trying to preserve her patience.

"Like I said." He rubbed his thumb with the index and middle fingers indicating some payment for his services. With a grunt Lyra reached for her jacket's pocket and pulled out a stack of cash. Extending her arm she offered it to the dude. He happily took it without any objections and marveled at the many bills it contained.

"That's a grand. Now talk or I will shoot your fucking dick off." Lyra demanded.

"Okay, okay." He tucked away the money as he proceeded, "That dude you are searching for, Dice? He's new in town, but his grunts have already claimed street corners out and about. I've never met the guy or even seen him from a distance, he's one of those low profile gangsters. What I do know is that he's in cahoots with this fucking weirdo and I mean weirdo in a really bad way. This guy freaks me the fuck out."

"What's his name?" Lyra's heart skipped a beat, a new target had been revealed to her.

"John. Last name, who the fuck knows? But the streets call him Johnny Malice and for a good fucking reason. That guy is a fucking sociopath. If you ask me he is one step away from becoming a straight up serial killer." He revealed all this new information to Lyra.

"Crazy motherfucker likes to show off his big ass knife and nonchalantly threaten people with it. No emotions on that sick fuck." Quick blew more smoke as Lyra listened on.

She felt a terrible twist in her stomach. The pain doubled down as her informant described the man and his unhinged habits. It just occurred to her that Lemy had bled out because of a severe stab wound to the chest. Had she just learned the name of the main bastard that took his life? Was this 'John' the one to land the final blow on her brother and by the description of the freak, relish on his death? Her blood was boiling while at the same time her head was dizzy and her body suddenly felt light and weak. Luckily by shear determination did she held her balance and stood tall before the man. She wanted to scream and cast every known insult to that motherfucker John's name. Condemn him to the lowest pits of hell as well riddle his entire body with bullets leave him unrecognizable for the police, paramedics and any fucking relatives too.

"Hey you okay there?" Quick tilted his head, "You hyperventilating a bit."

"I-I'm fine! Is there more?" Lyra dodged the question.

Quick took a long drag from his cigarette, "Last I heard, they went down to Detroit for some 'business meeting' of sorts. You want to go hunt them down then good luck in that decomposing industrial maze of a city. Other than that, yes that's all for tonight."

"You bribing me now?" Lyra accused him.

"I'll happily accept more money from you, but that's all the information for now is what I mean." Quick clarified.

"Fine." Lyra turned around to leave, "Keep those ears open Quick, I may need your services again."

"Sure." Quick tipped her with his hoodie.

"What's your name anyway?"

Lyra stopped momentarily still giving him her back. Quick waited for a response, but it appeared that he wasn't going to get one. He shrugged it off and turned to walk across the alleyway. Pulling out his fresh stack of bills he hummed as he counted it when she called out to him.

"I'm just a sinner." Lyra raised her voice and continued on walking.

Terry waited by her car checking her phone when Lyra re-emerged from the alley. Immediately approaching her for answers, "Anything good?"

"You trust that guy?" Lyra asked.

"Well... he's a friend of a friend. I can't be certain...I hope so?" Terry said.

"Money talks." Lyra reaffirmed, "Gave him a sample of real money. If he wants more good payments then he now knows better to not be stupid and fuck that up."

"I suppose so." Terry nodded.

"I can just put a bullet in his head if he flips." Lyra nonchalantly said as she walked away.

"Not everybody needs to die!" Terry groaned while rubbing her forehead.

"That's up to everybody else." Lyra countered.

"What now?"

Lyra hated that question because she already had the bloody answer for it.

"Wait."

She had no choice, but to just wait. The idea sickened her greatly. She wanted to go out and continue the hunt. But as Quick had told her, there was no solid location or people of interest to lead her closer to them at the moment. Regardless of her frustrations, she got a second name out of it. This so called Johnny Malice, Lyra was now a hundred percent sure that he was the main one out of the three to fatally stab Lemy that night. Lupa had described one of them as a grunge creep, he fit the description. Lupa had also mentioned that the sick fuck had straight up told her that he wanted to rape her as he terrified her with his knife. Lyra's blood was boiling and her heart clenched with anger as she imagined herself murdering the son of a bitch in the most gruesome ways possible. Took the love of her life and threatened her little sister's purity, that motherfucker was going to die a slow and painful death by her hands.

"I'm going back to the motel." Lyra growled.

"Let me give you a ride." Terry insisted.

"No! Leave me... I'll walk." Lyra controlled her growing temper, "Thanks, but I'll walk."

She waved her goodbye and strolled down the street under the watch of the many stars of the night. No rain, no fog, wind or physical distractions to ruin this peaceful walk. Lost in her thoughts Lyra wondered many things all at once. Murder aside, she deeply thought about her family. About her sisters, her aunts, father and lastly her mother herself. She hasn't physically seen any of them for a very long time now, it felt like ages had passed by since that dreadful night. Thinking about her horrendous treatment towards them all twisted her stomach in a painful manner. Lyra can't ever forgive herself for the cruel words she told Lupa and alongside her nightmares of Lemy's death it would haunt her forever.

It was odd for her to think about her mother in the same category as the rest of the family, but it was a thought that was unavoidable at this point. Sam's conversation repeated itself in her mind. It was hard to fully understand what she truly meant by all that she said in defense of Luna that day, but the gist of it all was simple enough: Luna wanted nothing more than to reconnect with her daughter and now only child. A lost dream that Lyra couldn't see happening. It was too much for her, too painful to reach out down that pit, for she had a feeling she would get bit again if she ever tried to.

"Mom..." She murmured.

Looking up to the sky in sadness she sighed as more memories came through. Why did it have to hurt this way? Luna had already hurt her many times in the past, so why was this new feeling even more painful than before?

"Can't get rid of you huh?" Lyra took a corner down main avenue street and followed the sidewalk.

"Lemy never stopped loving you." Lyra spoke, "Really wish you could have seen him one last time. I...he...he should have hugged y-you...one...l-last...one last time too."

Reaching a commercial plaza she saw much activity from the bar up ahead. Looks like some people can smile through all the bullshit and drink their many pains away. She hasn't drank any alcohol since that house party that she happened to drunkenly ruin, much to her amusement. What a fond memory that was, until she got back to the house and acted like a complete shithead to her concerned father however.

"Wonder if they will check for ID." She wondered as she approached the establishment.

Normally she would feel like a fish out of water in these particular situations, but for tonight and evey other night moving forward she could care less about such a small and meaningless detail. She's got about ten kills, more or so under her name, underage drinking is a laughable offense on her behalf now.

Pushing the glass doors open the vibe inside was a complete atmosphere opposed to the natural night for the outside world. Full house, live music in the corner and many drunk smiling faces having a great night and social interactions. A few eyes, both male and female took notice of the new patron who had entered. Not exactly dressed for the occasion was the main issue in hand, looking more like a typical rocker and with a bandana wrapped around her head, she was an eyesore for everyone else there. If this was a cheap dive bar then it she would feel right at home, anyhow she could care less about the perspective looks she was receiving. She walked to the circular island bar in the middle of the building and took a seat on the stool

"Give me a cold drink." Lyra asked the bartender.

"Your age?" The man looked at her knowingly.

Lyra came prepared for this one and reached for her pocket. Instead of an identification card she placed down folded bills on the smooth counter and slide it halfway towards him.

"This green paper here says $200 pal."

The bartender raised an eyebrow, yet he subtly snaked his hand forward and grabbed the money without question.

"What will it be?"

Something strong." Lyra ordered, "I've had a shitty summer."

"On it."

The music was good. Lyra paid attention to the two man duo singing and beautifully stroking those key chords with great bliss. Listening to them play made her miss her own guitar and how much she loved playing it as many times as she had whenever time was available. The one thing she forgot to pick up from home before she took off for good. Well she has enough money to buy a new one and a new one. The bartender came back to her and handed over a glass drink with a ball shaped ice cube in it.

"Enjoy." Lyra nodded and grabbed the refreshment.

Taking a sip, her head kicked back as the strong liquor travelled down her throat, burning her inner pink meat as it went. Smacking her lips, savoring the lingering taste she nodded in approval and downed the whole drink down her throat.

After that she ordered a couple more and took them all like a proper champion. She was feeling the effects. The slight unbalance in her vision and body was noticable to her. She was tipsy, but unlike the first time, she was tipsy on quality product over the cheap beer she first consumed. Waving the bartender away she crossed her arms and rested her head in between them. The mixture of alcohol in her blood system was producing unwanted negative feelings in her. Despair, sorrow and loneliness were swirling around her intoxicated head. She pulled out her phone and opened the photo gallery. Scrolling through the many photos of her and Lemy, Lacy and her, Lizy and her she landed on the one she was looking for. An old picture of her and Luna together. It was taken the night of her first freshman talent show. She won second place with her guitar cover solo of Ellie Goulding's Lights. Shame that the break dancing kids won the gold, but she wasn't complaining. That performance earned her admiration from the music director and many lucrative opportunities at a musical career. None of it mattered now.

That night Luna had attended and cheered on her daughter. Afterwards both hugged, joyful for each other. Lyra stared at the picture for a long time, unable to look away or form any other thoughts to ruin the moment.

"Why did you do this to me?" She muttered out.

The phone screen blazed up with a blue background as an incoming call blocked the picture. It was Lincoln calling her. Lyra watched the phone ring a couple of seconds before finally choosing to answer.

"Yeah?"

"Lyra? Please don't hang up." Lincoln pleaded.

"I won't." Lyra answered while downing another shot.

"I haven't seen you at all. Panther said you moved out on your own? Where you at?" Lincoln inquired.

"I'm safe dad." she said back, not wanting to reveal the location of her safehouse.

"...We all miss you. Please come back."

That was a hard question for her to answer. She's going to say no regardless, but it's still hard to actually say it without good reasons. She did miss her house, miss her family, wants nothing more than to hug Lupa and beg for forgiveness. Unfortunately this road she's on has no u turns or detours. It's all straight down the highway to hell for her. She doesn't belong there anymore, she doesn't deserve their love anymore.

"I'm sorry...I just... can't go back." Lyra sighed, "I don't trust myself."

"You're in pain Lyra. I'm in pain, Lupa's in pain, and so is your mother in pain. We're all suffering, we all loved Lemy, we all carry the scars with us. You loved him more than anyone else, but the love we all had for him is what's keeping us alive and united" Lincoln's voice changed to a more somber tone as Lyra listened on.

"Dad..." Lyra paused, contemplating her next words, "If you had the chance, the opportunity...would you kill them?"

"That's tough." He replied back, "I hate them for taking my son away, taking your mother's youngest child away, taking your sisters' brother away. Destroying a beautiful relationship that the two of you had successfully flourished..."

Lyra took another shot, really feeling the swirling sensation much more heavier now as she waited for an answer.

"If they were in front of me...yes, I would murder them all with my bare hands." Lyra face lit up with surprise, her father's words impacting her.

"Without question...but why would I sacrifice my family for vengeance? They need me. I'm no good to your sisters dead or behind bars. Its okay to carry hate in your heart, that just means you truly cared about him after all, your love was real. He would be in the same predicament as you, even your mother is likely feeling just the same as you." Lincoln explained.

Lyra didn't say a word, digesting her father's words. He had more to lose, but in the end agreed with her wholeheartedly.

"How's mom...?"

"Oh?...I haven't really spoken to her for a while now." He sounded surprised at the question.

"Sam came to talk to me some days ago. I... don't understand...why, why won't she leave me be?" Lyra felt her frustration growing.

"She doesn't want to lose you too."

"Then why didn't she stay?" Lyra moaned, her emotions spilling out, courtesy of her inebriated state, "Why didn't she...why, every damn day I wanted her to come home. I prayed and hoped for my mom to come back and stay for good, but she never did!"

"Lyra...your prayers, in the end God answered them. It sucks so bad that it had to be this way, but she's here now. Your mother is back and she wants to be here for you. Please I beg you, don't throw away your only chance. I...lost mine when Lemy died. I have to live with that cruel fact, knowing that I could never tell him how much he meant to me and how...sorry I am for not...loving him better. Not getting the opportunity to be a real dad too him." She could hear her father's voice breaking down, it pulled at her heartstrings knowing how much pain he truly was in.

"I'm sorry dad." She shed a single teardrop, "I stopped hating you for that a while ago."

"Thank you, I will always love you." Lincoln said.

"...I know." Lyra added.

They said their goodbyes and ended the call. Lyra was more depressed than before. She was done drinking and got off her stool and waltz out of the building. The fresh air hit her face as she gingerly attempted to maintain her balance, equilibrium all disorganized. She continued walking until her senses couldn't carry her any longer and she unceremoniously slumped down against the side of a vacant building in the plaza. The nausea wasn't there yet, but the world was slowly spinning around her. Even with her eyes closed she could feel the earth rotating in different angles all at once. Laying down she decided to rest in this spot for a while. If anybody asks, she's a drunk bitch taking a nap. If anybody dares, she's got a fully loaded gun on her jacket to end their lives with.

"Hey, you looking for a quick hit?"

She begrudgingly opened up one eye. Next to her stood some dude wearing a Detroit Lions jacket. What the hell did he want?

"Girl let me tell you I got some good medicine to cure that hangover for tomorrow morning. Trust me on this one babe, you'll feel the urge to take on many guys or girls all at once." He snickered at the last part.

"Fuck off! I'm sleeping." Lyra ignored him.

"Your lose babe. You'll be missing me in the morning." He walked away from her.

"You'll be missing me in the morning. Fuck you." Lyra mocked him as she tried to sleep again.

Wait a damn second.

Lyra opened her eyes again and looked around for the man. He had just offered her drugs! He was a drug dealer and Quick had said that Dice was a distributor making shop here. Quickly getting to her feet she frantically scanned the area for him. Lucky for her she caught a glimpse of his sports jersey up ahead. Detroit, why didn't she piece that together, he had to be from the same gang or at least have some information on the man. He was on the other side of the plaza now, speaking to a pair of girls on a sports car. Lyra needed to get to him, but she was to exposed in this parking lot and with many patrons chilling outside the bar.

She was drunk, but still functional enough to act on instinct. She started walking ahead, but not in a fast pace. Not wanting to get noticed she travelled between the many parked vehicles, slowly approaching the man.

"You two ladies are gonna have the night of your lives with these, enjoy yourselves." His smug grin pissing Lyra off by the seconds.

Once the sports car drove off he started counting his ill earned cash. Unaware that a predator was stalking him from the shadows.

"Oh yeah. I knew this was a good spot." He whistled to himself.

At that moment he heard some footsteps approaching, but a blunt object pressed against his right kidney stopped him from reacting in time.

"You don't say?"

Lyra grabbed ahold of his collar while aiming her gun against the rough fabric of his jacket. All the drug dealer could do was raise his hands in surrender. Lyra looked around for any potential witnesses, she didn't want to get rudely interrupted.

"Fuck, you?" He recognized her, despite lowering the bandana down to hide her face, he remembered her from no more than a few minutes ago.

"Look I'll cut you a deal." He eagerly told her.

"A deal? Sure, your life for some meaningful words. Fair enough?" Lyra pushed him forward, he complied and walked ahead with her.

Both walked at a steady pace across the parking lot away from the crowded bar behind them. What was her actual plan? Beat him up for information sure, shove the barrel of this pistol down his throat and threatened to pull the trigger if he didn't comply? Check. Leave him breathing if he answered all her questions? Debatable.

"Look you can have all my money. No need to shed blood." He reasoned.

"No. Money isn't a luxury I desire to have." Lyra pressed on, almost out of the plaza and into the street across.

"Everybody has a price, what's yours?" She added.

Reaching the sidewalk she looked around the building's corner for any pedestrians walking by. There was a small alley up ahead that would serve her interrogation just nicely. While she was looking away she failed to notice her captive lowered his left hand reach for something in his pockets. Before she realized what happened, he pulled out a pocket knife and stabbed her in the stomach.

"Urk!" Lyra reeled down in pain.

"To live another day bitch!" He shouted out while pulling out the knife out of her.

Despite the horrible burning pain in her gut, Lyra quickly lifted her gun up and shot the man square in the chest. He fell to the ground as she stumbled down on her back in gruesome pain. She could hear the shouts from down behind her, those people are surely calling the cops right about now.

"Ah..." Lyra could barely form a word as she pressed her hand to her stab wound, feeling the hot liquid pouring out.

"Fu-Fuck..." the bastard still lived.

He sluggishly got to his feet and jogged away. He didn't make it that far as Lyra shot him a second time on the back. Collapsing on the middle of the street he could barely move now, his groans of pain the only sign that he still lived.

Against her better judgement Lyra got back to her feet, a painful process as the wound made her yelp out in pain.

"Agh!" Lyra pressed down on her stomach while stumbling towards the guy.

Close enough she eyed him with malice and aimed her gun one last time. He faced her and before he could muster out a word a bullet blew up his right eye and buried itself deep into his skull.

"F-fuck you!..Aghh!" Lyra fell to one knee, the pain was fucking unbearable.

Tucking away her gun she used both hands to apply more pressure to the wound. Blood was spilling on her shirt, hands, pants and the asphalt of the street road. Like a true soldier she forced her way to the other side of the street. At this point her vision was turning into a blur, with the alcohol to play with she was much more dazed than before. She had no idea what to do, where to go or who to call. She thought about Terry again and with a shaking hand pulled out her phone, smearing it with her blood. Trembling with agony she pressed down on the touchscreen, but unfortunately she dropped her phone to the floor. It bounces off into the next street in the corner she had reached.

"No..." Lyra complained.

Attempting to kneel down and grab it she lost her balance and fell flat down on the street floor. Her strength depleted and oxygen giving out, she felt tired and worst of all sleepy. Seeing the headlights of a car approaching her she tried and failed to get up to her knees. Falling hard on the floor again her wound screamed out as it made hard contact with the rough asphalt.

She lost.

Unable to do anything else she just laid there on her own small pool of blood. The car behind her came to a full halt, the headlights beaming behind her. She could see the silhouette of a person exiting the vehicle. That was it. She was done for. Her mission and promise, she had failed to honor them both. If she didn't die on the way to the hospital then she would spend the rest of her existence locked up in a penitentiary.

Either way she was going to hell.

Weakly lifting her head up, she raised an eyebrow in utter surprise.

Lemy was sitting crossed legged in front of her with a confused look on his face.

"Lyra, what are you doing?"

End of Act 2