—Darkest Days—

by: Glass Angel

CHAPTER III

This can't happen to me. . .

I killed all of the metroids. . .

I killed all of them. . .

I killed all. . .of them. . .

I KILLED ALL OF THEM!!!!

Samus woke up screaming once more, her icy fingers grasping the edges of the soaked sheet until her knuckles went white. She stared around the room with the wide eyes of a child, but found nothing ominous or threatening.

"God, I can't believe it." Samus wiped the cold sweat from her brow. "Why the hell can't I get a grip? I've had the same dream for four damn months!" But something just wouldn't let her calm herself during those nightmares; almost as if a pair of sharp, bony hands were holding her eyelids open and forcing her to stare into the gruesome bowels of the damned metroid demons.

She heaved a heavy sigh and climbed out of bed. There's no way I'll be able to get back to sleep with these sheets, she thought to herself; They're so cold and wet from my sweat that'll I'd probably freeze.

With a quick sweep she pulled the sheets off of the bed and walked down the hall, then dumped the cold mob into a hamper nearby. She shivered and pulled on a dark silk robe that she had found near the hamper, for the hard linoleum floor was cold at night, and she didn't really sleep in much.

Samus sleepily tugged out some new white sheets from the dryer in the dark and began to walk slowly back to her room with light steps to keep from resting all her weight on the cold floor. Finally she made her way onto the warmer carpeted hallway and looked up to see a faint light escaping from her cracked door.

That's strange, she wondered. I never turned a light on. I've been stumbling around in the dark all night. She cautiously tip-toed to her doorway, the pile of warm sheets in her arms forgotten, and immediately whipped open the door.

A dark figure's head whipped up in her direction, a faint flashlight-type object in his hand. He was standing at the foot of the bed, but before Samus could make out anything more than that, he was out the open window with the agility of a stealthy black cat.

"Hey!" Samus dropped the sheets and dashed to the window, but the violator was no where in sight. She stared out the window for a few moments, then closed the hatches and locked them tight.

Great; now I've got a stalker on me.

She pulled the sheets over her bed absent-mindedly and looked down at it, but thoughts of rest were now forgotten and impossible to retrieve. She knew now that someone was after either her or something she had, but which of the two? Samus then began to wonder how long this person had been there and how frequently he visited. Was this the first night he had come, or had he been there several times in the past? The bounty hunter knew well that she could defend herself, but how well could she when she was asleep?

Samus walked over to the nightstand and opened the bottom drawer. A silver handgun was revealed, and she took it out of its home and let her robe drop to the floor. Climbing back into bed, she tucked the gun under her pillow just in case she ran into any more unpleasant surprises that night.

* * *

Talon looked up as Samus sat down beside him at the bar. It had become some sort of routine for the both of them now to meet at the bar at certain points of the day. Although Samus thought Talon was a little more than different, she possessed a rather morbid curiosity for him and couldn't break her frequent trips to the bar to either wait for or meet him.

"Good morning." Talon nodded to her, smiling good-naturedly. His smile faded slightly as the fellow bounty hunter thunked herself down on the adjacent stool and quickly wiped a bit of sleep out of her eyes. "Are you all right?"

"No," she answered bluntly, eyeing him tiredly. "Some jackass was in my room last night."

"Oh." Talon sounded surprised, his eyes slightly widened for a moment. "Was he. . . invited?"

"Hardly." Samus glared. "I don't know him."

"Okay." He looked relieved, then grew serious. "There was a stranger in your room last night?"

"I don't know what the hell he was doing in there." Samus shook her head. "As soon as I went in, he shot back out of the window as fast as someone escaping death. I couldn't see any features of him, only the fact that he was male."

"Damn."

"I know." She looked back up at him. "I guess I need to start locking my windows now."

"Do you need anyone to stay with you for now in case the bastard returns?" Talon eye's met Samus's.

Samus narrowed her eyes. "I think I can handle this, Talon. And," she raised an eyebrow, "I don't need a hung and decapitated corpse in my room. I'd have to pay extra to get the blood hosed off."

Talon laughed. "You humor me shamelessly." He smiled back at her. "You probably can take care of him yourself, but just remember that I'm here to take him out if you need me to."

"Why do you care so much, anyway?" Samus queried.

The dark bounty hunter continued to smile. "It's just what I said when we first met; I do enjoy competition, and that last bounty that you beat me to proves that life around here should get a little more interesting. I don't need my fun to be spoiled by a sick lecher or murdering assassin, do I?"

Samus shook her head. "Whatever you say." She tossed another glance at him. "Where do you live, anyway?"

"Wherever," Talon replied. "I'm not native to this planet. I usually stay in my ship, but I might rent an apartment or something like you did to find a more comfortable setting. And besides," his smile grew daring, "I need to spend all that money I earn somehow."

Samus eyed him with a small smile. "I was expecting that." She stood up.

"Where are you off to?" Talon looked up at her as she straightened her dark purple jacket.

"Probably to take a look around the town, see what I can dig up." She smiled wryly. "Or just beat you to another bounty. Later." She waved behind her as she left the bar.

Climbing onto her motorcycle, Samus pulled out a scrap of paper and studied the names scrawled in a quick fashion in black ink. "My next target is across town. Guess I'll have the scenic way this time." She rode down the street, making sure to slow a bit more than usual to familiarize herself with the scenery.

"Not much around here," she muttered, unsurprised. "All I need to do is get those bounties before Talon does; otherwise, I won't be able to make any money."

* * *

Samus walked into her apartment late that night, dropping a blood-stained ID card onto the kitchen table. Yawning, she stepped into her room and tiredly undressed, lazily tossing her gun on a nearby chair. Pulling out the sheets of her bed, Samus settled in and shut out the light, the only thought in her mind being the word 'sleep.' But no matter how tired she was, her body refused to give in and let her slip into the sweet subconciousness.

"Just let me sleep. . ." she muttered to herself, eyes closed, hand clutching the pillow.

Minutes soon grew into hours as Samus laid in her bed, silently begging her body to rest, but it just wouldn't. With her eyes still closed, she rolled over. exhausted. She suddenly felt something light brush her cheek, but she thought nothing of it; as drowsy as she was, she only believed it to be just a simple insect or the corner of her sheet. She then felt five long, thin warm objects touch her chin and lift it slightly. They felt very much like fingers to her. . .

Samus's eyes immediately shot open, the figure in front of her leapt away from the bed instantly. It was obvious that this person was the one from the previous night, but he wasn't just holding a light this time—in his other hand was a long, thick cord.

Samus grabbed the gun from under her pillow and let out a barrage of shots as the figure shot out of the room. She immediately took up the chase and followed him, still firing her gun at the killer. He found a window and crashed through it, sending shards of glass everywhere. Samus dashed to the window and sent another barrage of bullets out of it until she heard a dull click and no bullets came out.

She glared out through the window darkly and faced the room. There were several bullet holes in the walls where she had missed the bastard, and shards of glass were scattered all over the floor. Samus began to make her way back to her room, but halted with a gasp as her bare foot met a long shard. She weakly raised her leg with a cringe and removed the glass, watching the fresh blood pour out of a large laceration. She carefully limped over to the bathroom and filled the tub with water. Wiping off the wound as best she could, Samus slowly dipped her foot into the cold water and cringed in pain. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

What the hell is going on. . .

* * *

The next night, Samus turned out the light to her room and sat down in one of the chairs silently. She hadn't said a word to Talon about the past night's attack; she was just silent the whole time she was at the bar. She knew he suspected that something had happened, but he didn't press her to tell him. All Samus wanted to do now was to kill whoever was trying to kill her.

So patiently she waited in the inky darkness, her eyes open and alert from the chair. She had piled some of her clothing underneath the sheets, creating an illusion of a body in deep sleep under it. Samus knew her killer wasn't so stupid as to fall for something like that for long, but she hoped it would at least entice him into the room.

She watched the window next to her bed carefully; she guessed that he usually got in through there, since it was so close to the bed. It seemed like the only logical thing for him to—

Samus let out a choked cry as a metal cord was wrapped around her neck and pulled taut. Her hands flew to the cord, trying desperately to loosen it. She fell out of the chair as the cord was jerked roughly to one side. Two strong hands grabbed her own and tore them away from the cord, binding them tightly behind her back. Recovering from her surprise, Samus immediately rolled over and kicked the man in the face, for he had to bend over to tie her hands together.

The man jerked backward and covered his face with one hand in pain as Samus struggled to get up. Unfortunately, he still had hold of the metal cord, and Samus was feeling very lightheaded and dizzy. She leaned against the wall and tried to pull herself up, but was sharply jerked to the ground again. She hit the floor with a dull thud, choking and coughing up a warm solution. Her captor regained his composure and stood up again.

She felt him grab her feet and bind them together as well as she struggled weakly in vain. Samus tried to turn her head to look at him, but the cord was still taught, forcing her to stare at the wall across the room. She was helpless, completely bound, unable to move. Her vision became blurry from lack of air, for the cord around her neck was closing off her breathing supply. A dark puddle of blood was collecting from the edge of her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut as she was lifted up and carried out of her room.

She was brought into the largest room in her apartment—the den. There were some large boxes still left in there from when she moved in, and her captor stacked them up on the wooden coffee table in the middle of the room. Samus felt herself being laid onto the topmost box, then opened her eyes weakly. They immediately grew wide.

The killer was tying the cord connected to her neck on a strong hook on the ceiling.