So somebody likes this eh? Well, I guess you can see the next chapter. Thanx a bunch for readin' it!
3. Giggles in the Dark
Not surprisingly, Heero sat in the midst of the soft glow of candles and typed on his laptop. His laptop had been fully charged before the blackout and could function two full hours before needing to be recharged again, unlike most laptops which could only work for one hour before being recharged. Thus, Heero defied the electrical loss Quatre's mansion had suffered and wrote up a mission report. He finished in record time and decided to check his e-mail. There was one message from someone called "2theMax". Heero raised a questioning eyebrow and opened the mail. There were only three words in it. Whacha doin', Heero? The screen went blank after Heero read this. It wasn't black as though it were off, but white instead, like a blank typing document. Words typed themselves on the monitor.
Hey, Heero. Heero hit the escape button but it did nothing.
That's just like you. You always try to escape what you don't understand. Heero decided to type a response.
Who is this? He typed.
I think you know. Was the mysterious person's reply.
Don't play with me.
Oh, look at the Perfect Soldier and his empty threats. I play with whom I please.
Get off of my computer.
You can't tell, but I'm laughing at you. I know you can't do anything to me.
Who the hell are you?!
What's the matter, Mr. P.S.? Are you getting scared?
Zechs? Is that you? I didn't give you real codes, so how did you hack my computer?
You're very funny when you're scared. I like seeing you scared.
What do you mean seeing? Where are you?
Yes, Heero, I can see you. But you can't see me.
Who is this?! Where are you?!
I'm surprised you're using exclamation points. You usually try not to show any emotion, especially when you're killing.
WHO ARE YOU!?!
Ooh, did I strike a nerve? You like to kill, don't you?
When I find you, you will pay for this.
Yes, you do like to kill. I know you do. I've seen the look in your eyes when you do it. I might even go so far as to say you LOVE killing. You're a cold blooded murderer.
I am not a murderer; I do what needs to be done.
Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.
Murderer. Murde- The word just continued to type itself onto the screen until it had taken up nearly two pages. Then finally new words appeared.
Look up on the wall behind you, Heero. Reluctantly, Heero turned to glance at the said wall. There was blood dripping from it, spelling out the word murderer. Heero spun back around angrily to type a heated response, but his computer was off. He watched as a thick crimson-hued liquid began to ooze up through the keys. It spilled over the edge of the table and into Heero's lap. Heero jumped up creating a loud splash as he sloshed through the rising blood that he hadn't even realized was there. He froze and strained his ears to hear a growing sound. The walls were creaking as if some immense amount of pressure was building behind them. Heero turned to the door only to see it bending and blood gushing under it into the room. The liquid was now up to Heero's knees and now even the ceiling was caving in. He spun wildly around and around, desperately searching for a way out of the collapsing room. The walls screamed from the growing pressure as they began to split and fall. Debris from the ceiling dropped into Heero's head, making him appear ghostly white then a light red color as drops of blood found their way through the resulting holes. Heero knew that if he opened the door, the blood on the other side would push him back and he would drown, never even getting a chance to get through the door – but he didn't care. He struggled through the now waist-high liquid to the door whose hinges were being torn mercilessly from their positions in the wall. He felt for the knob, found it and turned. The door was locked. Heero pounded furiously on the door and called for the other pilots. The other pilots, however, couldn't hear anything coming from the area Heero happened to be in and they just went about their own business. All except Trowa, who just happened to pass the study – which was where Heero was at – at that very moment. He still heard nothing, but that's what held him there. He knew that Heero had gone into the study to type…so why wasn't he typing? Heero ran a blood-covered hand through his hair and at last grasped a truly welcome hair pin. He endeavored to pick the door's lock only to discover that the door locked from the side he was on. The ruby-red fluid now past the Wing pilot's elbows, he attempted to unlock the door. His hand slipped numerous times and when he finally had a good firm grip on the lock, he found it wouldn't turn.
"Turn, damn you! TURN!!" Heero fumed. The walls and ceiling gave at last. Heero ducked, throwing his hands over his head, waiting for the mass of blood and bricks to hit him – but it never did. Heero jumped as the door opened and Trowa entered the room that was the study. Trowa was shocked, to say the least, at what he saw. Heero was curled up into a tiny shivering ball on the floor, his arms around his head. Trowa glanced at Heero's laptop. There was an army of miniature Wing Zero's flying across the screen – that was the screen saver.
"Heero?" Trowa called. Heero seemed to recognize his voice and stopped his violent trembling. He sat up and turned slightly to see if it was indeed Trowa who had spoken. When his eyes confirmed that it was, he blushed hideously, fury rising in his chest – not at Trowa, but at the fact that he had been seen in a moment of weakness. He stood, checked himself for blood stains and, finding none, huffed out of the room. But he stopped about a foot away from Trowa after he had passed him.
"Tell no one." he growled. Trowa said nothing. He simply stared at the still open laptop on the table in the center of the study and watched it shut down as the last of its precious reserved energy faded leaving it with nothing to function on.
***
Trowa retired to his quarters to contemplate the strange events he was witnessing. The first unusual thing that he'd seen that night was Quatre's CD player going crazy. After that he'd seen Heero curled up on the floor in fear. That was definitely unusual. He, like some of the other pilots, didn't know anything about the strange voice Wufei had heard or what Quatre had been scratching into the wall so he didn't muse over those two happenings; the other two were enough to grab his attention anyway. He was still thinking about it when someone padded quietly into his room.
"Hey, Trowa." the timid young blonde said. There was something strange about his voice…it didn't sound timid at all.
"Hey." Trowa grunted. Quatre moved further into the dormitory, his bare feet sweeping gracefully and without sound across the carpeting.
"Were you…thinking about something?" Quatre inquired, ever so innocently. Trowa nodded. Quatre slipped onto the bed, his weight pulling it down only slightly. He stared intently into Trowa's only visible emerald of an eye, his own bright blue eyes glinting oddly in the light of the candles.
"Who were you thinking about?" he asked, a feral smile forming on his lips.
"Why do you think I was thinking about a person?" Trowa asked carefully. Quatre leaned towards him, the expression on his face bordering on insane.
"Because I know…" he whispered. The candles were snuffed out instantly. Lightning illuminated the room and Trowa saw that Quatre had changed. His hair was long and dark his eyes were wide and there was an insane grin plastered on his face. He spoke in a voice that wasn't his own, but that still sounded familiar. "…that you were thinking about me." Icy fingers wrapped themselves around Trowa's throat and he was wrestled to the floor. Trowa reached out for the body that belonged to the hands but he felt nothing but freezing air. He couldn't even feel that hands that were choking him. He heard maniacal giggling as consciousness slowly began to leave him. His eyelids were dropping…he couldn't hold on much longer…
"Trowa?" The hands vanished and light came back to Trowa's eyes. Trowa lay on the floor gasping and staring up at the ceiling. A moment later, the face of the real Quatre entered his field of vision.
"Trowa, are you okay?" he asked. Trowa shook his head then rolled over and expelled his dinner.
*Hmm…I dunno. How's this turnin' out? Anybody still interested? No? Oh well. I'm still gonna keep writin' it.*