Unfamiliar. Strange. Yet, not new in any way. The room was old, the
furniture antique. perhaps dated. The curtains were tightly shut. Light was
forbidden in this crypt. Cuatro Annilettia Winner, Deceased on the 13th of
April, AC 197. However, it is said that when the person dies, the body
continues to live. Hair and nails continue to grow. Cells keep dividing.
Kitty Winner was dead, but that body kept living. A shell. An empty frame,
bruised and battered, and a brain full of numbers and letters, formulae and
data, but no memory. Who was the young woman who lay curled on that bed,
hiding in the corner, facing the shadow ridden wall? Why did she scream at
light and noise? Who was she? She asked herself that constantly. Flashing
images plagued her mind constantly as she lay in a semi sleep, too afraid
to drift away to slumber, to afraid to come to terms with her losses and
wake up.
The crowd screeched with horror as the house bulged into a fiery cloud, blasting heat and debris in all directions. Roof tiles clattered down, smashing at the toes of the dignitaries. Smashed flaming rafters flew skywards, the great billowing smoky clouds rising from the dilapidated building. A pair of blue eyes pinched shut. How could this happen? This was a place of peace, and now it lay in smouldering ruin. Was this the fate that lay before mankind? That those who hoped for peace were to fall into chaos? She wouldn't let herself cry. Not now. She was too strong for that. Sirens squealed in the distance above the deafening chatter and wailing of the politicians. Relena fell to her knees and sighed. It was all over. They had tried so hard to preserve the peace, but no. A war was going to begin, and she would have to fight again for what she wanted so much. She would have to watch Heero fight again. She sighed. "Get a hold of yourself, Qua." drifted into her ears. She turned to see Quatre Raberba Winner doubled over in the distance, eyes wide in terror, having what looked like a severe asthma attack. Relena struggled to her feet as she watched the youth collapse on the floor. Someone was at his side almost instantly. She sighed. At least he was alright. Now she, someone who was able bodied and uninjured, ought to help out the ambulance crews and such who had just arrived.
"It's OK, I've found him!" Wu-fei called down his mic as he ran towards the blonde haired figure. As he approached, Quatre spun around, eyes wide, pupils dilated, surface glassy, panting like an over exercised dog, clutching his chest and gut. "Whoa, Get a hold of yourself, Quatre!" he cried and hastened his approach. Quatre seemed to collapse sideways onto the floor. Wu-fei frowned. Something was very wrong. He had heard rumours that Quatre could sense other people's emotions and pain, but this must have been something very serious. He dashed to Quatre's side and knelt down. A sort of wheezing noise afflicted the boys breathing, which was in stunted sobs. Quatre cried out and drew his knees up closer to his body. He was clutching his abdomen, breath almost halted in what seemed like agony. Wu-fei placed a hand gingerly on his friends arm. The blonde figure jumped at the touch before relaxing back into his almost spasm-like gasping and shaking. "Hey Quatre," Wu-fei said quietly, "just calm down, OK? We've gotta hurry. Trowa's at the carrier, Duo and Heero are on their way. You're in full view of all the politicians, and." Wu-fei broke off as Quatre stopped shaking. His eyes were still wide, glossy to look at. His breathing stopped. He was frozen. After a few moments, a slow solitary tear trickled out of his eye down his cheek. Wu-fei frowned. "Guys, Quat's gone coo-coo. I'm gonna get him to the carrier ASAP. hey!" Quatre staggered to his feet, leaning against a tree. "Have you ever felt a metal shaft piece your body?" Quatre said quietly, his fringe hiding his darkened eyes. Wu-fei got up. "If you mean a sword. then yes. and so have you." Quatre shook his head. "A shaft. A twisted, cruel piece of iron, falling through you. Have you ever felt that?" Wu-fei took a small step backwards. "No." he said quietly. "Its agony," came the reply. Quatre's face bore a dark shadow, covering the glittering blue eyes in a sinister veil. Wu-fei grabbed Quatre's arm. "Quatre, we have to go, now!" Wu-fei growled. Quatre pulled out of his grasp. "No!" he barked, "I can't go! Not now! I can't just leave! Not now!" Wu-fei sighed. "Yes now, now come on!" He tugged again. "SHE'S DEAD!!!" Quatre screamed, yanking away and falling against the tree. He sobbed a little, before sliding down the smooth back to the floor. Wu- fei watched him fall. "What did you say?" he finally hissed. A shivering sigh echoed in the suddenly silent air about the pair. "She's dead." Quatre repeated quite sensibly. "She has ceased to exist. She didn't make it. She kicked the bucket; I don't care how you put it! . and it's all my fault." Quatre got to his feet again and glanced at the building sadly "It's all my fault. Forgive me Allah." Quatre covered his mouth with his hand and took off towards the carrier.
Wu-fei didn't move. He couldn't. It was Meiran all over again. Except this time it was all his fault. If he had stayed with her, she would have made it out. It wasn't Quatre's fault. Wu-fei had taken her into his care, and had failed. Quatre's word echoed in his mind. Quatre had felt everything she had gone through. Except that Quatre was alive. Quatre was going to see another sunrise. Quatre was going to live. Wu-fei felt a lump grow in his throat. A cold, cruel, twisted shaft of iron. A water wipe contorted by the forces of the explosion. Quatre had told him. Why? Because he knew that she meant a great deal to Wu-fei? Or because he wanted Wu-fei to feel pain and guilt? Both answers were valid. Wu-fei engaged his link up. "I'm on my way"
The dignitaries were saved. 1000 spared, 1 casualty. Ten feet inside the now collapsed door of the building in a small cavern amongst the rubble lay a fragile figure. Her eyes were wide and clouded now with the steadily falling dust. Her features were a mix of uncontrolled relaxation, immense fear and pain. One hand lay gently out to the side, one leg twisted up beside her. The other leg was splayed slightly sideways. The left hand clutched a bloody shaft, which had embedded itself deep into the hard flooring of the entrance way. The long nails were thick with blood as the fluid crept across the cracked and dirtied floor. The mouth was slightly open, blood trickling from the corners. The nose was slightly twisted by the impact of flying rubble. From the ear crept a steady line of forking and twisting blood. Deep within the mind of this corpse however, beyond the blood stained golden strands of hair, beyond the delicate digits and delightful form of the body, deep within the brain, a small light glowed. It was dim and flickering, but it glowed. Images flickered within this light. A small boy. A ball. Another small boy. A man. A doll. A car. The man again. A young man. A television. A building. People. Another young man. A girl. A piece of blue paper. A jet. A face of someone very special. The light flickered once more, and then died. Five seconds passed. Small traces of light began to grow along the surface of the object, growing lighter and lighter. The light flashed red. A finger twitched. The light flashed yellow. The eyelid blinked away the dust. The light stopped flickering. A breath was drawn in, and a heart began to beat. The light burned green, blasting down optic nerves. Eyes flew open, taking in surrounds with a blank mind. There was a scream, louder and more eerie than any other. She was completely alone. The pain flooded her renewed system. She screamed and cried and yelled and yelped, but she was still alone. She couldn't be reached by anyone, or anything. She gritted her teeth against the burning pain. Blood stopped oozing and began to flow rapidly. She growled low in her throat as another hand flew to the shaft and with all the strength this broken body could muster pushed at the pipe. With the immense creaking of the rubble above, the further rupturing of tissues and vessels, and an incredible cry of agony and strain, the shaft was removed. The girl flattened herself again, panting heavily, tears flowing down her cheeks. Her brain flooded with numbers and designs and letters. She groaned. "You bastard," she whispered coldly, her eyes flashing a malicious vermilion, "what have you done to me?"
Kitty blinked and opened her eyes. It had been two weeks since her release from the hospital now. She had gotten over the original shock, and the doctor only visited once a week now. She had acknowledged that she had died. She had acknowledged that she was still Kitty. She had acknowledged that Quatre was missing. Others were missing too. Her memory was so poor after the accident that she had to be told the name. Who was Quatre? The name was so familiar, but no image came with the name. If she could not remember her existence past her fourth birthday, apart from data and numbers, how could she be expected to remember a person? She frowned. People were so insensitive. They just didn't understand. No one had visited her. No one except the nurse. She resented that. She knew she had been an important person. Why else would she have been at a conference, and why else would she be in such lavish surrounds now? Kitty growled. Life was such a bitch sometimes. The door creaked open. Kitty shivered. She raised a hand to the bandages on her face. The devil woman wasn't coming to change them, was she? She didn't need to see this destroyed form of life. A broken nose, severe burns to the right side of the face, especially along the cheekbone, Cracked skull in six places, broken collar bone, dislocated shoulder, fractured wrist, three broken fingers on the right hand, one broken knuckle and two broken fingers on the left, four broken ribs, one punctured lung, severe damage to muscle tissue, duodenum, ileum, colon and left kidney, two dislocated hips, one dislocated knee, broken femur, shattered fibula, cracked tibia and a broken toe. Dried, cracked lips eased open. "Go away," a cracked voice said. The nurse almost dropped her tray. "Oh!" she cried, "you're awake!" "I would presume so," was the quiet croaky reply. This whole talking lark was quite difficult to an unpractised tongue. The nurse smiled in the darkness. "I've come to check you over," she said quietly, placing the tray down with a soft gesture. Kitty frowned. "Go away," she spat, "I don't want to be checked over. My wounds are infected, everything hurts and I can't remember which ways up or down. There. Now you know everything without the poking and prodding lark. Let's do this again some time." he voice trailed off and she coughed slightly, her damaged chest protesting. The damn ribs should have been fixed by now! They were pinned, after all. The nurse sighed. "I am under strict orders to check all your bandages. Next week you're supposed to start your rehabilitation period, if I have ensured you are well." "Are you deaf or just plain ignorant?" Kitty growled, forcing herself upwards. "I told you to leave me alone! Go away!" The nurse picked up a syringe. "I can do this the easy way or the hard way, Miss Winner." "Don't give me that!" Kitty barked. "I-am-fine. Get it through your thick skulls that what I need is solitude now! I want to be alone. I need to be alone to fix this head of mine! I don't need rehabilitation. It's been three months since the accident, you say?" "Yesterday would be three months, yes," the nurse said as she advanced, tapping the syringe lightly. She hated doing this, but the girl was so grouchy. "Three whole months. All my bones are healing; the muscles are recovering for the devastated tendons. The cuts just need to heal over a bit more and then I'll be ready to leave this cell! I don't need you! Bog off!" The nurse frowned and padded at a section of the young girls skin with the swab. Kitty growled. "If the cuts heal over the infection, you could die of blood poisoning," the nurse said bluntly, inserting the needle and ignoring the wince, "The tendons are never going to properly heal, they never do. The only muscle you've exercised recently is that foul tongue of yours, and so you won't be able to walk when you are ready to. You will need a frame." The liquid was pushed out of the tube. Kitty's vision dimmed. "I hate you," she hissed, before falling unconscious once more, and suffering the evil dreams that filled her blank mind.
The crowd screeched with horror as the house bulged into a fiery cloud, blasting heat and debris in all directions. Roof tiles clattered down, smashing at the toes of the dignitaries. Smashed flaming rafters flew skywards, the great billowing smoky clouds rising from the dilapidated building. A pair of blue eyes pinched shut. How could this happen? This was a place of peace, and now it lay in smouldering ruin. Was this the fate that lay before mankind? That those who hoped for peace were to fall into chaos? She wouldn't let herself cry. Not now. She was too strong for that. Sirens squealed in the distance above the deafening chatter and wailing of the politicians. Relena fell to her knees and sighed. It was all over. They had tried so hard to preserve the peace, but no. A war was going to begin, and she would have to fight again for what she wanted so much. She would have to watch Heero fight again. She sighed. "Get a hold of yourself, Qua." drifted into her ears. She turned to see Quatre Raberba Winner doubled over in the distance, eyes wide in terror, having what looked like a severe asthma attack. Relena struggled to her feet as she watched the youth collapse on the floor. Someone was at his side almost instantly. She sighed. At least he was alright. Now she, someone who was able bodied and uninjured, ought to help out the ambulance crews and such who had just arrived.
"It's OK, I've found him!" Wu-fei called down his mic as he ran towards the blonde haired figure. As he approached, Quatre spun around, eyes wide, pupils dilated, surface glassy, panting like an over exercised dog, clutching his chest and gut. "Whoa, Get a hold of yourself, Quatre!" he cried and hastened his approach. Quatre seemed to collapse sideways onto the floor. Wu-fei frowned. Something was very wrong. He had heard rumours that Quatre could sense other people's emotions and pain, but this must have been something very serious. He dashed to Quatre's side and knelt down. A sort of wheezing noise afflicted the boys breathing, which was in stunted sobs. Quatre cried out and drew his knees up closer to his body. He was clutching his abdomen, breath almost halted in what seemed like agony. Wu-fei placed a hand gingerly on his friends arm. The blonde figure jumped at the touch before relaxing back into his almost spasm-like gasping and shaking. "Hey Quatre," Wu-fei said quietly, "just calm down, OK? We've gotta hurry. Trowa's at the carrier, Duo and Heero are on their way. You're in full view of all the politicians, and." Wu-fei broke off as Quatre stopped shaking. His eyes were still wide, glossy to look at. His breathing stopped. He was frozen. After a few moments, a slow solitary tear trickled out of his eye down his cheek. Wu-fei frowned. "Guys, Quat's gone coo-coo. I'm gonna get him to the carrier ASAP. hey!" Quatre staggered to his feet, leaning against a tree. "Have you ever felt a metal shaft piece your body?" Quatre said quietly, his fringe hiding his darkened eyes. Wu-fei got up. "If you mean a sword. then yes. and so have you." Quatre shook his head. "A shaft. A twisted, cruel piece of iron, falling through you. Have you ever felt that?" Wu-fei took a small step backwards. "No." he said quietly. "Its agony," came the reply. Quatre's face bore a dark shadow, covering the glittering blue eyes in a sinister veil. Wu-fei grabbed Quatre's arm. "Quatre, we have to go, now!" Wu-fei growled. Quatre pulled out of his grasp. "No!" he barked, "I can't go! Not now! I can't just leave! Not now!" Wu-fei sighed. "Yes now, now come on!" He tugged again. "SHE'S DEAD!!!" Quatre screamed, yanking away and falling against the tree. He sobbed a little, before sliding down the smooth back to the floor. Wu- fei watched him fall. "What did you say?" he finally hissed. A shivering sigh echoed in the suddenly silent air about the pair. "She's dead." Quatre repeated quite sensibly. "She has ceased to exist. She didn't make it. She kicked the bucket; I don't care how you put it! . and it's all my fault." Quatre got to his feet again and glanced at the building sadly "It's all my fault. Forgive me Allah." Quatre covered his mouth with his hand and took off towards the carrier.
Wu-fei didn't move. He couldn't. It was Meiran all over again. Except this time it was all his fault. If he had stayed with her, she would have made it out. It wasn't Quatre's fault. Wu-fei had taken her into his care, and had failed. Quatre's word echoed in his mind. Quatre had felt everything she had gone through. Except that Quatre was alive. Quatre was going to see another sunrise. Quatre was going to live. Wu-fei felt a lump grow in his throat. A cold, cruel, twisted shaft of iron. A water wipe contorted by the forces of the explosion. Quatre had told him. Why? Because he knew that she meant a great deal to Wu-fei? Or because he wanted Wu-fei to feel pain and guilt? Both answers were valid. Wu-fei engaged his link up. "I'm on my way"
The dignitaries were saved. 1000 spared, 1 casualty. Ten feet inside the now collapsed door of the building in a small cavern amongst the rubble lay a fragile figure. Her eyes were wide and clouded now with the steadily falling dust. Her features were a mix of uncontrolled relaxation, immense fear and pain. One hand lay gently out to the side, one leg twisted up beside her. The other leg was splayed slightly sideways. The left hand clutched a bloody shaft, which had embedded itself deep into the hard flooring of the entrance way. The long nails were thick with blood as the fluid crept across the cracked and dirtied floor. The mouth was slightly open, blood trickling from the corners. The nose was slightly twisted by the impact of flying rubble. From the ear crept a steady line of forking and twisting blood. Deep within the mind of this corpse however, beyond the blood stained golden strands of hair, beyond the delicate digits and delightful form of the body, deep within the brain, a small light glowed. It was dim and flickering, but it glowed. Images flickered within this light. A small boy. A ball. Another small boy. A man. A doll. A car. The man again. A young man. A television. A building. People. Another young man. A girl. A piece of blue paper. A jet. A face of someone very special. The light flickered once more, and then died. Five seconds passed. Small traces of light began to grow along the surface of the object, growing lighter and lighter. The light flashed red. A finger twitched. The light flashed yellow. The eyelid blinked away the dust. The light stopped flickering. A breath was drawn in, and a heart began to beat. The light burned green, blasting down optic nerves. Eyes flew open, taking in surrounds with a blank mind. There was a scream, louder and more eerie than any other. She was completely alone. The pain flooded her renewed system. She screamed and cried and yelled and yelped, but she was still alone. She couldn't be reached by anyone, or anything. She gritted her teeth against the burning pain. Blood stopped oozing and began to flow rapidly. She growled low in her throat as another hand flew to the shaft and with all the strength this broken body could muster pushed at the pipe. With the immense creaking of the rubble above, the further rupturing of tissues and vessels, and an incredible cry of agony and strain, the shaft was removed. The girl flattened herself again, panting heavily, tears flowing down her cheeks. Her brain flooded with numbers and designs and letters. She groaned. "You bastard," she whispered coldly, her eyes flashing a malicious vermilion, "what have you done to me?"
Kitty blinked and opened her eyes. It had been two weeks since her release from the hospital now. She had gotten over the original shock, and the doctor only visited once a week now. She had acknowledged that she had died. She had acknowledged that she was still Kitty. She had acknowledged that Quatre was missing. Others were missing too. Her memory was so poor after the accident that she had to be told the name. Who was Quatre? The name was so familiar, but no image came with the name. If she could not remember her existence past her fourth birthday, apart from data and numbers, how could she be expected to remember a person? She frowned. People were so insensitive. They just didn't understand. No one had visited her. No one except the nurse. She resented that. She knew she had been an important person. Why else would she have been at a conference, and why else would she be in such lavish surrounds now? Kitty growled. Life was such a bitch sometimes. The door creaked open. Kitty shivered. She raised a hand to the bandages on her face. The devil woman wasn't coming to change them, was she? She didn't need to see this destroyed form of life. A broken nose, severe burns to the right side of the face, especially along the cheekbone, Cracked skull in six places, broken collar bone, dislocated shoulder, fractured wrist, three broken fingers on the right hand, one broken knuckle and two broken fingers on the left, four broken ribs, one punctured lung, severe damage to muscle tissue, duodenum, ileum, colon and left kidney, two dislocated hips, one dislocated knee, broken femur, shattered fibula, cracked tibia and a broken toe. Dried, cracked lips eased open. "Go away," a cracked voice said. The nurse almost dropped her tray. "Oh!" she cried, "you're awake!" "I would presume so," was the quiet croaky reply. This whole talking lark was quite difficult to an unpractised tongue. The nurse smiled in the darkness. "I've come to check you over," she said quietly, placing the tray down with a soft gesture. Kitty frowned. "Go away," she spat, "I don't want to be checked over. My wounds are infected, everything hurts and I can't remember which ways up or down. There. Now you know everything without the poking and prodding lark. Let's do this again some time." he voice trailed off and she coughed slightly, her damaged chest protesting. The damn ribs should have been fixed by now! They were pinned, after all. The nurse sighed. "I am under strict orders to check all your bandages. Next week you're supposed to start your rehabilitation period, if I have ensured you are well." "Are you deaf or just plain ignorant?" Kitty growled, forcing herself upwards. "I told you to leave me alone! Go away!" The nurse picked up a syringe. "I can do this the easy way or the hard way, Miss Winner." "Don't give me that!" Kitty barked. "I-am-fine. Get it through your thick skulls that what I need is solitude now! I want to be alone. I need to be alone to fix this head of mine! I don't need rehabilitation. It's been three months since the accident, you say?" "Yesterday would be three months, yes," the nurse said as she advanced, tapping the syringe lightly. She hated doing this, but the girl was so grouchy. "Three whole months. All my bones are healing; the muscles are recovering for the devastated tendons. The cuts just need to heal over a bit more and then I'll be ready to leave this cell! I don't need you! Bog off!" The nurse frowned and padded at a section of the young girls skin with the swab. Kitty growled. "If the cuts heal over the infection, you could die of blood poisoning," the nurse said bluntly, inserting the needle and ignoring the wince, "The tendons are never going to properly heal, they never do. The only muscle you've exercised recently is that foul tongue of yours, and so you won't be able to walk when you are ready to. You will need a frame." The liquid was pushed out of the tube. Kitty's vision dimmed. "I hate you," she hissed, before falling unconscious once more, and suffering the evil dreams that filled her blank mind.
