Will and Fate
By Jeremy
Chapter 7
January 8, 1995
The two young men stared at each other across an empty hospital room. Once inseperable, the two had become estranged during the past few years, to the point where trust and reunion seemed all but gone from the field of hopes. One who was in the right and the other in the wrong, both sides of a coin.
It was Jeremy, of course, who was in the wrong. Thomas was certain of that. His truth was The Truth, after all. He was a Faithful to the Truth, not a Betrayer. When had the Truth shown himself to him? He couldn't say, he was very young when it happened. But it had changed his life. The Truth had shown him that there were Betrayers in the world, many of them, ready to tear apart the lives of those who were honest and true. At first confused and doubtful, he had come to believe, as he had to in order to save his soul. And so, in coming to believing, he had reached the decision that his family, all such good people, would never suffer from those inhuman, thoughtless Betrayers. And so, in secret, his Holy Mission had begun.
Alas, althought he had become convinced his parents were strong enought of will to resist Those Who Would Betray, his cousin, his dear cousin, seemed to fall deeper and deeper into great danger. From the moment he had hit him at that tournament years ago, betraying him, Thomas had felt the danger, for Jeremy had betrayed him. However, the teint was faint, and could be removed if there were no more Betrayers to lead him astray. And to that he had worked. To no avail, for always he seemed surrounded by Betrayers, ready to pounce on him.
And now, because of the bitch Melissa and that dangerous monster Nathan, his dear cousin was standing close to the Abyss. But he would be saved. He had to be! And there was only one way to do so.
"There is an explanation for all this, Jer." he said reasonably. His cousin seemed stunned by this, his eyes unbelieving. Obviously the teint was very close to his cousin's heart. He had to act fast.
"An explanation? For all...all this?" whispered his smaller "brother".
"But of course. There is an excellent reason for all that I have done!" he exclaimed.
Jeremy seemed struck dumb for a moment, then closed his eyes tightly. "So there's no doubt now, huh? You r-r-really d-did..." his voice broke, and he choked visibly. Thomas thanked the stars. This show of grief meant his cousin had had no true intention of betraying him. He could still be saved!
"Yes. I did. It had to be done, you see. For your sake."
"For MY sake?!?"
"Yes. See, you were being betrayed by so many people. You were in danger of becoming one of them, become a Betrayer, and thus teint our noble family."
"W-w-w-what?..." stammered the brown-haired youth. Thomas looked at him with compassion. His smaller counterpart, dressed in his khaki pants and black t-shirt, exhuding so much physical strength. And yet so weak in the mind! But he would save him.
"For example, remember Kate Madison. Very sirruppy bitch, all nice talk and all..."
"Kate. Yes. I remember, the...t-the name b-but she never betrayed..."
"Oh yes she did and you know it!" Thomas exclaimed, a little angry at his cousin's thick-headedness. "Remember when she invited you to that place, and then left you for another guy during that very evening, and never paid attention to you afterwards. If that's not betrayal, what is?!?"
His cousin, however, still seemed mired in incomprehension. "But, yes she...but she...she was fourteen! She was incredibly self-centered, yes, maybe she did hurt me back then, but, to kill her like that...because she cheated on me..."
"All was done so you could be free from her teint, and that of all these others."
"Betty Aklem, who copied my answers in an exam and almost got me kicked out once. Bernard and his trick he played on me after I had helped him ace Phys Ed..."
Thomas beamed. His cousin was finally seeing the light. "Yes, cousin, finally the truth will be yours. See them for what they really are! Monsters, all of them. Ready to plunge you into something that would shame out proud and honest family."
Jeremy lowered his head and whispered "You killed...because they hurt me..."
"Yes, cousin!"
"You beat them to death... because...they hurt me?"
"Yes! At last your eyes are opening to the Truth."
"Y-y-y-you m-m-monstrous BASTARD!!!" Jeremy suddenly spat, his voice rising, his head rising to face him. Gone was the doubt, gone was the compassion. Only grief and hatred remained.
Thomas almost sobbed. So close, so very close. But his cousin had fallen nonetheless.
"You killed a bunch of kids. You're right, I do remember Kate. Yeah, she hurt me. But she apologized afterwards. Betty, well, I lived it down - it wasn't like she and I we're gonna get married or anything. And Bernard was the same thing. All of them! All of those you killed! They we're just a bunch of kids acting like a bunch of kids!"
"Fool..." stated Thomas angrily.
Jeremy thumped his arm against the wall, starting to circle the larger man. The noise they had just made must have woken up all of the hospital by now. Soon, people would come, very soon indeed. Thomas started circling too, edging towards the door.
"But you never stopped to consider that, huh? You just cut them down! Beat them to death! Called them stained or soiled whatever the fuck you call them!" Jeremy was getting angry, his words were now more snarled than spoken. "And you call me the one who is dishonouring this family?!?"
Thomas could only sigh. He had lost his cousin. He had taken the wrong step and fallen into the unending ravine of the Betrayers. And he, who could have been his savior, had failed in his task. How aggrieving. Now there was nothing left but to cleanse his cousin, too.
And so, Thomas readied himself to fight his cousin. He took on his most refined fighting stance. Jeremy saw this and shifted and readied on instinct. It was then that Thomas realized how bad his position was. Certainly, he had never shown his cousin his true strength, and he had the advantage of the knife. However, and much to his annoyance, his poor lost cousin still had the edge as far as fighting skills went, even thought he might not want to fight all out. Victory in a one-on-one fight was difficult enought. And nurses would definitely alert security guards, who, being blind to The Truth, would support Jeremy, changing the notion of victory from extremely difficult to impossible.
He hated impossible situations. There had to be something else.
And there was, fortunately. He suddenly heard a gasp behind him, and saw a nurse, a red-haired woman in probably late thirties looking at the scene, confused and fearful. They hadn't heard anything, so focused they were. Shameful. Grandpa and Father would be grossly disappointed. But this oversight would serve him well. Quick as lightning, he grabbed her, putting her before him and encircling her arms in an iron grip, using his other arm to hold his knife against her throat. She uttered a cry, then went still and stiff. Before him, Jeremy's expression shifted from grim and angry to hesitant and desperate. So typical of him. His dear cousin acted like that everytime someone pulled something on him like this. Like all Betrayers, it was probably that he didn't like losing any sort of advantage.
"Kinda in movies, huh Jer? 'cept this time its the good guy who gotta pull the stunt to help himself. Ironic, no?" he giggled. Ah, his cousin's acting was marvelous! He really looked like he was worried for this unknown nurse. Fortunately, Thomas was a disciple of The Truth. He knew there were no true redeeming emotions within Betrayers. They were but cold shadows.
"Let go of her." said the new Betrayer. Hah, he even had the worried tone right, what an ace.
"Right. Like you care!"
"I do. Let go of her. She has nothing to do with all this."
"So noble." Thomas smirked. "So fake. But I might humour you, if you just stay put." He started out of the room, dragging his whimpering captive with him, as he headed towards the elevator. Jeremy followed, cautiously, slowly. Like he cared, which was a blatant lie. He stopped as he came to the elevator doors. He slapped the down button using his knife hand, bringing it back to its former position before his opponent could react. They waited for a moment in silence.
At length, he spoke. "I am sorry that I have failed you, cousin, The ones who brought you to this shall pay dearly. The sinful Melissa will be first."
"No way, pal." growled Jeremy. "There's no way you'll get anywhere near her while I'm still alive. I'll warn her before you can reach her house."
"Ah, no, you won't have to do that." was his confident reply to that particular fake outburst.
"What?!?"
"You're a bit late. I've already taken her, just in case I failed here."
His cousin blanched. Great acting again! Thomas could have sworn that the look of terror was real.
"What have you done to her?" the grey-eyed Storm asked him voicelessly.
"Not much right now." his voice became grim. "But that will change, for it is because of her influence if I have lost you."
"No! Tom, if you do that...!" at that moment the elevator doors opened. Using this new element, he shoved the nearly-catatonic nurse toward his foe with all of his strength. She hurtled to Jeremy, who stumbled under the impact. In half an instant, he had pushed the button to close the door. He saw his lost cousing trying to steady both himself and the nurse, and smiled sadly.
"She will pay, cousin." he vowed. "For what she did to the both of us. And then the doors were closed.
And he, Thomas Storm, follower of the Truth, knew that he had to keep that vow. He would make her pay. Dearly. Completely. In the name of what had once been, and what was now irremediably lost to him.
Oh, yes, that Betrayer would pay, more than the others. More than even Nathan would have, if all had gone as planned.
* * * * * * * * * *
Five minutes later...
Moving Nathan out had been a very good idea, they had all agreed when they all knew what Thomas was capable of - althought they had needed Claudia's charm and mastery of improvisation to convince the hospital staff to do as they wished. Leaving Alex to protect him in case he somehow found out where his would-be victim really recuperated was also sound, althought the fact that Claudia had stubbornly decided to stay with the crippled man and her lover had been taken rather badly by both these men and even the one who was about to confront his cousin about murder. Her presence thus made Alex's presence all the more important. But he still couldn't help feeling irked.
Not that the young whrestler would leave his post now, but he had secretely wanted to be there, to see what kind of twisted reasons the guy would spout to redeem his unredeemable actions. It wasn't that he really was worried that Jeremy would be in grave danger. If it came down to hand-to-hand - and he rather thought it would - his friend was definitely the stronger fighter. Nevertheless, he still ached to be there.
He looked over the room where Nathan now rested, a room that - to him at least - seemed to be the exact same dull sterility of a room that the other had been. Nathan had fallen asleep almost immediately, despite the stress of what had happened just a few hours ago and what was probably happening right now. It wasn't much because he didn't care but rather that his shattered body was completely spent. He looked briefly at the scarred face and listened to the slightly wheezing breath and once again cursed himself for judging Nathan. After all, hadn't the guy gone to see that mad bastard Thomas by himself to try and prevent this? And this had been the price he had paid for that foolhardy but well-meaning action. No wonder, after that, that he had wanted Thomas dead and cared little about everyone's feelings on the subject.
Claudia was seated just next to the crippled teenager, comforting the troubled sleep of one guy and the troubled thoughts of another by her mere presence. She had been the one to apologize first when they had discovered how much of a monster Thomas really was, and he had acepted them so gratefully that it was clear he had felt ashame of his own actions. He had also apologized, but by the time he had, things had already gone back to normal between the two.
He sighed and walked over to where Claudia was sitting. She looked up at him tiredly.
"No sign, huh?"
He shook his head. "Nah." But no sign is a good sign as far as I'm concerned, he thought silently.
"Jeremy will be allright. He's way stronger than Tom is."
"The Tom we thought we knew, maybe. But who can really tell the inner strength of a psychopath?" he asked.
She was silent for a moment. Then she smiled. "Bend down."
"Huh?" That wasn't something he expected.
"Just bend down. I want to kiss you." she stated simply, as if she was talking about something completely normal to do. He contemplated how to answer that, then finally decided the easiest thing to do was to obey. He was thus in the process of bending down his great frame, when a cold voice snapped behind him.
"Fuck! Do that later, we don't have much time!!!"
He had whirled around at the first syllable, assuming a whrestling combat stance and mentally kicking himself for being so neglectful. Fortunately, it was Jeremy, and not Thomas, who looked back at them both. He relaxed slightly before fully reading his friend's expression. When he saw it - anger, fear and more than a touch of deperation - he felt very cold very suddenly. Claudia also saw it.
"What's wrong?" they both asked at exactly the same time - something that would have been funny had the situation not been that tense.
He was silent, fighting what seemed to be an overwhelming tide of emotions. "That...monster... has Melissa. Now come. Claudia, you drive. Alex, I'll need your power and strength on this." he started to move off, then realized they were gaping at him, dealing with the news of Melissa's plight rather badly. He made angry motions of impatience. "Come on! Come on!" And started off into the corridor. Hesitating a second more, they both ran after him.
Alex was beside him in three strides. In his mind, he was still trying to deal with the fact that Thomas had Melissa. If he was as mad as his actions were pointing him out to be, what he might do to her, the pain she could suffer, the things that....no. Enough. He couldn't think about that right now. Definitely couldn't think about it, for his personal sake. He thus took on another tack with the smaller fighter.
"Jer...If he really has her..." he started.
"He does." was the impatient reply.
"Okay, then...how are we gonna find him? He could be anywhere!" The wrestler's statement had little effect, as the brown-haired youth only quickened his pace.
There was, however, an answer. "I may have been blind to his madness, Alex. But I knew the place he prefered to go to. I kept a track on him, if not his actions." the last part was spat like a curse.
"Then why do you need us then?" asked Claudia, almost jogging to keep up with the two. The answer came only when they came to an elevator. Punching the call button, he turned to them with a grim outlook.
"I want you two for a good reason each. Thomas certainly isn't alone because then Melissa could escape. I need Alex's skill and strength to help me there. As for you Claudia, she's the one who can drive us to Tom's place fastest."
Alex nodded. It made sense. However, there was one question he had to ask. Not one he wanted to ask, really, but seeing the controlled rage and despair etched on his friend's usually mild face, he found it was a must.
"Jer..." he coughed, hesitated. This wasn't easy. "Jer...what if we're...too late."
And the look that Jeremy gave him told it all. He never spoke. He never had the need to.
The look clearly said I'll KILL him!
It was a look Alex never wanted to see again from someone he called friend.
* * * * * * * * * *
Twenty minutes later...
One could have said Melissa was afraid. Or terrified. Scared shitless. They could have said all that and more. And she would simply have stated that they knew nothing about the situation, for the terror she felt was unbearable and unimagined by those who have never felt it. And those who were in this world who could speak of this kind of situation were few.
She tugged at the rope that tied her to a wooden beam in the ceiling, knowing it was futile. The rope was too sturdy, the beam too strong. Her wrist were red and bloody from her previous attempts, and her strength - just like her hope - had died quickly when she saw that there was no getting out of this. Once again, unbidden, her mind showed her how she had come into such desperate position.
It had come in Thomas's car. Stupid girl, she was. Stupid to have followed him, to have left the safety of the tournament's crowd behind, to have ignored the sense of danger she felt for him. And the sense had been right. He hadn't taken the way that led to the hospital. When she had inquired why, he had told her to shut up, that he was only doing the right thing. She had inquired further, despite the fear which was quickly rising within her. That's when things had gone crazy. His whole outlook had changed, his face becoming increasingly demented as he told her that she was nothing but a Betrayer or whatever and that her presence was, as he said, corrupting Jeremy and making him like her or something similar. It was then that it truly struck her finally.
Thomas Storm, she had always thought somewhat dangerous. But the man next to her wasn't simply dangerous.
He was also completely and, if that was possible, gleefully insane.
Good sense had screamed at her to flee, to throw herself out of the blasted car, injuries be damned. After all, she was better off wounded, even gravely, than with him. She had started to go for the door, but he had seen her. Not surprising. Trained since childhood to detect small changes in opponents demeanor, even more heightened by dementia, he had read her like an open book. Out of the corner of her eye, she had seen him lash out with his fist. There had been a brutal impact, much pain - as if she'd been hit by an hammer on the side of the face - and then, blissfully, darkness.
She had come to here - wherever here was. To her it looked like an old room in an old warehouse. Perhaps a room where a manager worked. She couldn't know and at that moment she didn't care, for it didn't change her position. She was helpless Her hands tied and hooked to the ceiling, forcing her to remain at a standing position, the side of her face still burning. He had been there when she had come to, looking at her with an expression of revulsion, contempt and fascination - like she was a strange but precious specimen in a lab. She had tried to speak to him, but had found out that he had gagged her as well. So she could do nothing but look back, and pray he wouldn't hurt her anymore.
She had been somewhat lucky. The only thing he had done was to clamp one of his hands around her jaw, forcing her to face him eye-to-eye.
"You're alive right now because of only one thing: my cousin. I'm going to try to bring him to reason. If it works, I'll consider letting you go - not whole, mind you, but alive at least. If it does not work, and my cousin is lost because of you, I'll give you the worst kind of death that I'll be able to imagine on the spot." he had let her go, then had added, like an afterthought "Oh, and don't bother trying to get out of here: I got three guys here who'll make sure you stay put. They won't hurt you - much, that's my duty, but they'll prevent you from making too much noise." and with that, he had left.
It had been at least an hour since then, and she hadn't dared move much. Althought she couldn't see them, she could definitely hear the "three guys" that were supposed to keep her in line. She had at first been terrified of them entering the room, and using her to...to...she couldn't bear to really think about it, her mind wouldn't let her. But they hadn't entered. Probably at his order. Tom had distinctively said that he would deal with her, that they wouldn't hurt her. And the three thugs outside probably didn't want to mess with someone so strong and so very completely mad.
She then remembered that, if things didn't work out, if Tom couldn't make Jeremy "see reason", he punish her dearly - something that could only make her panic. Because she knew Jeremy and Claudia and even that huge young man called Alex enought to know none of them would see Tom's reasoning as anything even ressembling sanity. Which would piss Tom, who would take revenge on her.
That thought would have made just about anyone in her position panic. And Melissa wasn't an exception to the rule. Not at all. She used all of her remaining strength to struggle one last time against the ropes that forced her to stand upright, guards be damned. It was no use. No use at all. The only thing she got for herself were deeper cuts on her wrists, more blood, and complete despair. Giving up at last, she closed her eyes and sobbed, the sounds muffled by the gag.
"So, tried to escape, huh, Betrayer?" said a cold voice she now would recognize anywhere. Her eyes shot open. Thomas Storm was standing at the door, looking at her with an expression that she simply couldn't define, but that gave her chills all over her body nonetheless. "Told you it was useless." He closed the door sounlessly and started striding towards her, like a cat reafy to pounce on an helpless mouse. His eyes, displaying only a cold void, remained fixed on her. "No Betrayer ever could escape me and you certainly won't change that. The one Betrayer who ever survived his cleansing did so out of luck. You won't have that luck. Not you. Not after the vow I made."
She could read his eyes now, and what she saw made her shake uncontrollably. She saw madness and fervor, and his voice carried a near-religious glee that absolutely terrified her. Tom reached out when he came near her and stroked her cheek softly with his left hand. Althought she tried to remain relatively calm, muffled whimpers issued forth when he did so. He didn't seem to notice.
"To him. To my beloved cousin. A cousin that is lost, now. Corrupted. Fallen!" his stroke suddenly became a harsh slap which cracked loudly throught the room. The pain to her face, which had nearly vanished, returned fully, and she saw stars for a moment. But the man before her - or rather, what had once been a man - never noticed the pain, too bent on his mad rage and confronted with his inner demons.
"He was pure once, bitch. Pure. Untouched. He resisted the corruption brought by that fucking meddler Nathan, that whiny slut Claudia and even from that huge, muscle-bound moron Alex. And then you came along. You, the greatest Betrayer of them all! You changed him! Made him into a Betrayer." Something seemed to snap then, and the fullness of his madness and fury was revealed. "HE'S GONE, AND ITS ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU DAMN, STUPID BITCH!!!"
He hit her then. A direct blow to her stomach. She felt like someone had driven a hammer throught her. She felt her ribs crack under the strain, while the air was knocked out of her and bile rose to her mouth. She nearly choked on it and the only reason she didn't scream was because she couldn't find the strength to do so. She ver had a chance to recover, when he punched her again, this time right in the face, making her black out for what seemed only a few seconds. Blackness ruled her then. And she welcomed it. But she came back too quickly.
Pain was awash now, all over her body, and she couldn't help but scream. She found then that she could scream, that the gag had been removed. Tom was there still, sitting on the floor, looking at various knives when he heard her. He looked at her and giggled madly.
"Back with me, Betrayer? Good! I want you to feel this fully." he got up with a knife, and she recoiled from the look he gave. Amused, angry, lustful, maddened, so many emotions, making such a terrible mix. He reached up and swiftly cut the rope that held her in her standing pose. Her legs, painful and weakened, were unable to hold her weight, and she crumbled to the floor. Her hands were still tied, bleeding, in front of her. She looked up at his wildly triumphant face, and she felt new terror course throught her body.
"What are you g-g-g-going t-to do to m-m-me?" she managed to stammer. She knew she wouldn't like the answer, if there even was one, but she had to ask.
He smiled. "Play with my prey before the kill." he answered simply.
She was intelligent enought to know what the last statement meant. When it hit her, all her being froze with the implications.
It was only when he bent over to her that she screamed.
* * * * * * * * * *
At the same moment...
The three men waiting outside hadn't flinched when they had heard the first of the girl's scream. But they had all cringed with the second, which was filled with horror and denial.
"NO!! DOOON'T!?!?! PLEASE!!!! NO!!!!! N-mmmph!" was the last thing coherent they heard for a long while. They her noises after that - muffled screams, the faint crack of bone breaking, other sounds they didn't really didn't want identify. With the treatment that seemed to be going on, that girl couldn't last long.
"Hey, hey!" siad one of the men. "No way I'm letting him do this!! We were told that he was just gonna rough'er up a bit, no torture her to death!!"
Another one, who had been smaking a cigarette in the corner, listened to the brutal - if faint - sounds that came from the other side of the closed door, and looked to the only calm one of the trio, who saw at a table rolling a pair of dice. "Mike's right here, Ian. No way we can let him go that far. I'm a thief, maybe, but not a fuckin' murderer."
The third man - young, early twenties, looked at the other two thugs with a cold look. Of the three, he was the only one that hadn't blanched when the beating had begun. The only one that seemed set on the path the group had taken.
From the other room, the sounds of beating died down, to be replaced by raspy grunts and muffled sobs. They couldn't here what was going on - not exactly - but they could tell what was going on. Rape. Ugly word for many. Common place for the places the three hanged out in. But it was one thing to hear about it and quite another to be a spectator to the very thing. Hearing the sounds, Mike went green while his partner went paler than ever. They looked at Ian. Always at Ian. Stupid, mindless thugs, always looking for guidance. Ian Deneen knew these two well. But he had also come to know Thomas Storm.
"Just keep your cool. He won't go against us if we do. Now sit down." The grunts cot louder on the other side. Ian tried to ignore them.
Mike wouldn't be sensible, however. "But, hear that!" he said, pointing to the closed door on the other side of which a gruesome drama was unfolding. "He's...he's."
"Rape. The word you're looking for is rape."
"We gotta do something."
Ian nodded. "And we are. The only thing we can do. Nothing."
The thug called Mike opened his mouth to retort, but never got the chance to say anything. For from the other side there was a scream. Not a scream of pain or fear, but a mix of both, pushed beyond the limits of reason. An unending scream that bespoke hooror and agony, and the falling of a life. It was scream that made the thugs scramble as far away from the door as they could. The scream continued for what seemed an eternity, its intensity never wavering. It was worse than horrible - it was the scream of a person who was being ripped apart.
And with that scream, even Ian Deneed, heartless as he was, tough as he was, was shaken top the core of his being, pride and the knowledge of the monster that lay on the other side of the door being the only things he clung to in order not to clamp his ears shut with his hands. He looked at his partners sadly, his gaze broken by the despair and horror of the scream.
"We can't help her. You don't know him. I do. He'll kill us if we go in. All three of us. Easily. Gladly. There's nothing we can do. Her fate....its over for her. Over."
He was convinced of that. And he would always be.
But that scream would follow him throught the rest of his dark, unsavory life.
* * * * * * * * * *
Thirty seconds later...
They had heard the scream as they got out of the car, just a little way from the abandoned warehouse that Jeremy said was Tom's favourite place to seek solitude. The scream was so horrible, so intense, that they could do for a moment was stand, wedged to the ground, their minds frozen with an indescribable dread.
Then Jeremy's mind told him who that voice belonged to. Terror and a frenzied energy took hold of him, and he sprinted towards the warehouse, his legs pumping, his speed reaching a level that would normally have astounded him. Behind him, he heard words, then the hard clacking sound of feet running, catching up quickly. With him. That meant nothing to him. All that meant anything to him was the scream he was hearing and the portent of it.
A heavy body passed him, pounding, coming to the door and kicking it open easily. He followed the large man - he was so focused he didn't even remember who it was - and found himself inside the warehouse. All was dark inside. Dark and empty. This place certainly hadn't been used in years. But it wasn't completely empty. No, there was someone here. The light at the far end proved it. Jeremy and the other man ran toward the light as quickly as they could.
The scream abruptly stopped.
His heart skipped a beat at that. And then, from the core of his being, he howled in his turn. But althought there was horror in that scream, it was fueled by rage and despair, and was almost inhuman in its bestiality.
Three bodies came between him and the lighted room. He didn't know them. Didn't even know what they were, and not caring. One tried to block his way. Jeremy's leg lashed out in a blur, kicking it repeatedly. The body fell. He jumped over it, forgetting he had even hit something, and ran to the door.
It was locked. Without thinking, his right foot came forward and tore the door out of its hinges. He stepped in.
There were two bodies inside the room. One was standing up, the other was immobile on the floor. He looked at the immobile body, incomprehending. Then his senses caught up with him, allowing him to see the body for what - and who - it was. For a moment, he was so stunned with complete horror that reason returned.
His cousin - sweating, bloody, holding a long knife red with blood and gore, looked at him serenely. "It is done, cousin. She has been given what she deserved all along. You..."
The monster that had once been Thomas Storm may have said something else, only the smaller man was no longer listening. At the word "deserved", his mind went blank, registering nothing else but a burning wrath and the insane desire to hurt and kill. He charged with another beastlike howl, no longer caring about anything.
All he wanted to do was kill his cousin.
* * * * * * * * * *
At the same time...
Alex was having a harder time than he thought he would. Certainly, he had fought before, plenty of times. And he'd fought against more than one opponent two or three times before this. So he wasn't lacking on knowledge. And he wasn't lacking on skills. Yes, he could take them on. Only his mind wasn't on it at all. It was on the howl that belonged to a friend, and the madness that lay therein.
Fortunately, he was only fighting two opponents. The savage kick Jeremy had given to one of them had fairly assured that the thug would be out of the fight for a good long while. He studied his opponents. One of them was of average height, well-built, dressed in a yellow shirt and green pants. He held himself badly - no true skills beyond the basics. He also seemed scared all of his mind, which may make him stronger but also would make him fumble at all times no problem there. It was the other one that bore the most watching. All in black - shirt, pants, hair, hell, even the eyes! - that one was very tall, almost as tall as Alex himself, and had a good build. He also held himself with focus and a relaxed, assured stance that spoke of some skills. This was his target, the dangerous factor he had to take out first.
The dark-haired man attacked stealthily, without fanfare or warning. He sent a series of jabs and hooks aiming for diferent parts of the body. Face, groin, plexus, everywhere the blow would tell. That one definitely knew how to fight. Alex, however, knew best. He blocked the blows easily, but neglected to notice the man's shift of weight. As it was, he saw the kick at the last second, and barely had the time to twist as the foot came swinging up. As it was, he received it on the shoulder rather than on the shoulder rather than on the side of the head, but the pain was still unbelivably sharp, and his defense let up for a moment.
His opponent saw his chance. Swift punches fell on his face, and the tall whrestler stumbled back, trying to catch his breath and focus again. But always his opponent was there, snapping quick attacks here, there and everywhere. For a few moments, it was all Alex could do just to keep up.
That's when the giant got pissed. Here he was, losing to someone who didn't have even half of his skill! He parried one punch, then grabbed the next, holding the fist into an iron vice. His opponent winced at this, tried to pull back. But Alex wouldn't let him. He jumped up, driving a muscular knee into the low stomach of the black fighter, surging upward and crashing downward with all the strength and momentum his two hundred and thirty-two ponds of muscles could put in. That was a move of his, one he called the Grab and Slam His opponent cried out at the impact, then huffed as he tried to refill depleted lungs. Not hesitating a second, he drew back his great fist and slugged the groggy man with all of his might. The dark-clothed guy became still.
He got to his feet, looking at his other opponent, who had been to scared to even move. He walked towards him, intent on finishing this quickly...
"FLARE TALON!!!!!!!!"
Part of the wooden wall exploded at the snarled words, sending a bloody, broken body flying throught. The scared man freaked at seeing this, the last of his courage evaporating as he fainted dead at the giant's feet. The giant, for himself, looked at the events unfolding with wide eyes.
He saw Thomas - a very beaten-looking Thomas - rising painfully on unsteady feet. His clothes were shredded, and he sported wide, purple spots everywhere on his body. Nasty marks. Marks made by fists and feet. His face was what had suffered the most. Red and swollen, it was barely recognizable. Blood was flowing aplenty from his broken mouth, and only one eye still looked out, the other being swollen shut.
The broken man looked toward the hole in terror and anger, and Alex let his startled gaze wander to it, knowing what he would find, or just about.
Jeremy was there, charging. His clothes also lookes shredded, and he had marks on his body as well, but they were fewer and not nearly as extensive. His face was feral and unyielding, a mask of hatred and madness. Alex shivered.
The assault was brief. Thomas crumbled under the first punch, his body giving out. But it wasn't enought that he was uncouncious. Not to his maddened friend. Punches and kicks fell unendingly on the prone body, snarls erupting from a maddened man. Alex saw that if hedid not act now, the other man was dead.
He grabbed hold of Jeremy, holding the smaller man tightly with all the strength of his arms. There were screams as the smaller fighter struggled, and the tall blond youth found himself taxed heavily.
"Jer, stop! This isn't what you want! This isn't what you are! You're not a killer!" The pleading had no effect, the struggles from his captive were only getting stronger. In despearation, not knowing what to say, Alex shouted.
"JER! DO YOU THINK THAT'S WHAT MELISSA WOULD HAVE WANTED?!?"
And, somehow, that did the trick. There was a last howl as he said the name, and then the smaller body started to shiver. It was quickly followed by sobs, heavy and heart-broken. Alex kept his hold on his friend. Not in fear of the smaller man attacking, but to give his friend something tangible to hold on to. He looked at the hole and saw a broken, mangled body covered in blood on the other side. With an horrified start, he recognized who it had been, and he looked away. God, she had died so...horribly. She was so mangled she was barely human in looks. He looked at Thomas's broken body, at the great wounds that were on it.
He looked long at those. And spat on the man.
What had happened to Thomas wasn't horrible at all.
It was deserved.
It was justice.
And so, holding on to his weeping friend, Alex waited for the police he had sent Claudia to call.
* * * * * * * * * *
One week later...
"So, no contact darlin'?" said a raspy, strong female voice on the phone.
Steve Hemmerson sighed. "Nope. I don't think there will be either. And after what the guy has just been through, I can't blame him, either."
"Having your girlfriend killed by your own cousin, then coming within an hair of killing same cousin yourself? Sure is hard on one's karma."
"We're the losers here, as well." Steve added earnestly "The kid was strong, and getting stronger. He probably would've been the strongest among us yet."
"Besides Giorgio, you mean?"
"Including Giorgio. Maybe not at first but within a few years - at the rate he seemed to be going - he would have left even Giorgio behind."
The woman whistled. "That's quite a statement coming from you, Steve."
"I still got a few bruises to back that statement, Cindy."
"I don't doubt it, darlin'. Well, bon voyage! See you back in England!"
"Sure, bye!" and Steve hung up. He checked on his bag and his room to see if anything had been overlooked. Nothin, as he well knew. He sighed again, this time in true frustration. He'd given the kid the place he was sleeping at, not knowing if there'd be a follow up but deciding to give the kid a chance to make up his mind. But now...
Now it was all screwed up.
From what he gathered, Thomas Storm was probably going to go to a mental institute for the rest of his life. The jury had been adamant on that after Nathan McIntyre's journal and testimony. The Storm parents were shattered, as were the victims' - for that Steve could only sympathize. Who knew what these people were having to deal with? Claudia Levenson and Alex Strongarm had also given testimony. The only one who had refused to have anything to do with the prosecution - or anything, for that matter - was Jeremy Storm. The young man had locked himself up in his house and refused to see anyone. All in all, a very unpleasant affair. But there wasn't anything the SCD could do to help in this case. They'd just have to let go of it this time.
Hemmerson heaved his athletic frame and trudged to the door. Vacation was over. In two days he'd be back in England and'd go back to kicking some Shadowlaw assholes.
As he neared the door, there was a knock. Curious but cautious, he opened it, ready to act if it was a threat. It wasn't. Instead the would-be recruit, stood there, in jeans, sneakers and a white t-shirt and holding a green duffel bag over his shoulder. Nothing seemed to have changed in the lean, athletic youth, except the eyes. The eyes were older now, lacking the naivetéit had possessed even one week before. These were the eyes of someone who grown up seven years in seven days. And it wasn't only the eyes - the whole face seemed somewhat made of granite.
"Storm." was all he said with a nod.
"Hemmerson." was the even reply.
"Going somewhere?"
"Yah. Taking a trip to England with you."
Steve merely raised an eyebrow, althought he really felt confused inwardly. "You sure that's what you want? If you go in now, there's no backing out."
"So what? I'm in anyway." was the mild, cold answer the brown-haired youth gave.
Steve stared at the would-be recruit. Was it right to take him right now, after all he had been throught? Maybe. But he couldn't let the occasion pass. Let Brisby and Castillo deal with the kid if it came to that.
"Fine. Let's go then. We don't want to be late." he took his own things and left the room, closing the door behind him. He then started walking, the younger man keeping in stride, silent and brooding.
It seemed like his little vacation hadn't been a waste after all. He just hoped he wasn't making a mistake by agreeing so quickly to a sudden decision. But, as with all mistakes, he would deal with them.
Directly, if need be.
_______________________________________________
Here we go! Sorry I've been so long. Exams have been a drag these days. However, I'm finished now and will try to bring my chapters in more quickly.
This ends the "background" part of my story - the rest of Will and Fate will be less about Jeremy - althought he WILL remain the most important character MOST of the time - and will show more Street Fighters we know and other original characters. Hope you'll like it!
And people...I CRAVE FEEDBACK!!!
See ya soon!
-Jeremy-
By Jeremy
Chapter 7
January 8, 1995
The two young men stared at each other across an empty hospital room. Once inseperable, the two had become estranged during the past few years, to the point where trust and reunion seemed all but gone from the field of hopes. One who was in the right and the other in the wrong, both sides of a coin.
It was Jeremy, of course, who was in the wrong. Thomas was certain of that. His truth was The Truth, after all. He was a Faithful to the Truth, not a Betrayer. When had the Truth shown himself to him? He couldn't say, he was very young when it happened. But it had changed his life. The Truth had shown him that there were Betrayers in the world, many of them, ready to tear apart the lives of those who were honest and true. At first confused and doubtful, he had come to believe, as he had to in order to save his soul. And so, in coming to believing, he had reached the decision that his family, all such good people, would never suffer from those inhuman, thoughtless Betrayers. And so, in secret, his Holy Mission had begun.
Alas, althought he had become convinced his parents were strong enought of will to resist Those Who Would Betray, his cousin, his dear cousin, seemed to fall deeper and deeper into great danger. From the moment he had hit him at that tournament years ago, betraying him, Thomas had felt the danger, for Jeremy had betrayed him. However, the teint was faint, and could be removed if there were no more Betrayers to lead him astray. And to that he had worked. To no avail, for always he seemed surrounded by Betrayers, ready to pounce on him.
And now, because of the bitch Melissa and that dangerous monster Nathan, his dear cousin was standing close to the Abyss. But he would be saved. He had to be! And there was only one way to do so.
"There is an explanation for all this, Jer." he said reasonably. His cousin seemed stunned by this, his eyes unbelieving. Obviously the teint was very close to his cousin's heart. He had to act fast.
"An explanation? For all...all this?" whispered his smaller "brother".
"But of course. There is an excellent reason for all that I have done!" he exclaimed.
Jeremy seemed struck dumb for a moment, then closed his eyes tightly. "So there's no doubt now, huh? You r-r-really d-did..." his voice broke, and he choked visibly. Thomas thanked the stars. This show of grief meant his cousin had had no true intention of betraying him. He could still be saved!
"Yes. I did. It had to be done, you see. For your sake."
"For MY sake?!?"
"Yes. See, you were being betrayed by so many people. You were in danger of becoming one of them, become a Betrayer, and thus teint our noble family."
"W-w-w-what?..." stammered the brown-haired youth. Thomas looked at him with compassion. His smaller counterpart, dressed in his khaki pants and black t-shirt, exhuding so much physical strength. And yet so weak in the mind! But he would save him.
"For example, remember Kate Madison. Very sirruppy bitch, all nice talk and all..."
"Kate. Yes. I remember, the...t-the name b-but she never betrayed..."
"Oh yes she did and you know it!" Thomas exclaimed, a little angry at his cousin's thick-headedness. "Remember when she invited you to that place, and then left you for another guy during that very evening, and never paid attention to you afterwards. If that's not betrayal, what is?!?"
His cousin, however, still seemed mired in incomprehension. "But, yes she...but she...she was fourteen! She was incredibly self-centered, yes, maybe she did hurt me back then, but, to kill her like that...because she cheated on me..."
"All was done so you could be free from her teint, and that of all these others."
"Betty Aklem, who copied my answers in an exam and almost got me kicked out once. Bernard and his trick he played on me after I had helped him ace Phys Ed..."
Thomas beamed. His cousin was finally seeing the light. "Yes, cousin, finally the truth will be yours. See them for what they really are! Monsters, all of them. Ready to plunge you into something that would shame out proud and honest family."
Jeremy lowered his head and whispered "You killed...because they hurt me..."
"Yes, cousin!"
"You beat them to death... because...they hurt me?"
"Yes! At last your eyes are opening to the Truth."
"Y-y-y-you m-m-monstrous BASTARD!!!" Jeremy suddenly spat, his voice rising, his head rising to face him. Gone was the doubt, gone was the compassion. Only grief and hatred remained.
Thomas almost sobbed. So close, so very close. But his cousin had fallen nonetheless.
"You killed a bunch of kids. You're right, I do remember Kate. Yeah, she hurt me. But she apologized afterwards. Betty, well, I lived it down - it wasn't like she and I we're gonna get married or anything. And Bernard was the same thing. All of them! All of those you killed! They we're just a bunch of kids acting like a bunch of kids!"
"Fool..." stated Thomas angrily.
Jeremy thumped his arm against the wall, starting to circle the larger man. The noise they had just made must have woken up all of the hospital by now. Soon, people would come, very soon indeed. Thomas started circling too, edging towards the door.
"But you never stopped to consider that, huh? You just cut them down! Beat them to death! Called them stained or soiled whatever the fuck you call them!" Jeremy was getting angry, his words were now more snarled than spoken. "And you call me the one who is dishonouring this family?!?"
Thomas could only sigh. He had lost his cousin. He had taken the wrong step and fallen into the unending ravine of the Betrayers. And he, who could have been his savior, had failed in his task. How aggrieving. Now there was nothing left but to cleanse his cousin, too.
And so, Thomas readied himself to fight his cousin. He took on his most refined fighting stance. Jeremy saw this and shifted and readied on instinct. It was then that Thomas realized how bad his position was. Certainly, he had never shown his cousin his true strength, and he had the advantage of the knife. However, and much to his annoyance, his poor lost cousin still had the edge as far as fighting skills went, even thought he might not want to fight all out. Victory in a one-on-one fight was difficult enought. And nurses would definitely alert security guards, who, being blind to The Truth, would support Jeremy, changing the notion of victory from extremely difficult to impossible.
He hated impossible situations. There had to be something else.
And there was, fortunately. He suddenly heard a gasp behind him, and saw a nurse, a red-haired woman in probably late thirties looking at the scene, confused and fearful. They hadn't heard anything, so focused they were. Shameful. Grandpa and Father would be grossly disappointed. But this oversight would serve him well. Quick as lightning, he grabbed her, putting her before him and encircling her arms in an iron grip, using his other arm to hold his knife against her throat. She uttered a cry, then went still and stiff. Before him, Jeremy's expression shifted from grim and angry to hesitant and desperate. So typical of him. His dear cousin acted like that everytime someone pulled something on him like this. Like all Betrayers, it was probably that he didn't like losing any sort of advantage.
"Kinda in movies, huh Jer? 'cept this time its the good guy who gotta pull the stunt to help himself. Ironic, no?" he giggled. Ah, his cousin's acting was marvelous! He really looked like he was worried for this unknown nurse. Fortunately, Thomas was a disciple of The Truth. He knew there were no true redeeming emotions within Betrayers. They were but cold shadows.
"Let go of her." said the new Betrayer. Hah, he even had the worried tone right, what an ace.
"Right. Like you care!"
"I do. Let go of her. She has nothing to do with all this."
"So noble." Thomas smirked. "So fake. But I might humour you, if you just stay put." He started out of the room, dragging his whimpering captive with him, as he headed towards the elevator. Jeremy followed, cautiously, slowly. Like he cared, which was a blatant lie. He stopped as he came to the elevator doors. He slapped the down button using his knife hand, bringing it back to its former position before his opponent could react. They waited for a moment in silence.
At length, he spoke. "I am sorry that I have failed you, cousin, The ones who brought you to this shall pay dearly. The sinful Melissa will be first."
"No way, pal." growled Jeremy. "There's no way you'll get anywhere near her while I'm still alive. I'll warn her before you can reach her house."
"Ah, no, you won't have to do that." was his confident reply to that particular fake outburst.
"What?!?"
"You're a bit late. I've already taken her, just in case I failed here."
His cousin blanched. Great acting again! Thomas could have sworn that the look of terror was real.
"What have you done to her?" the grey-eyed Storm asked him voicelessly.
"Not much right now." his voice became grim. "But that will change, for it is because of her influence if I have lost you."
"No! Tom, if you do that...!" at that moment the elevator doors opened. Using this new element, he shoved the nearly-catatonic nurse toward his foe with all of his strength. She hurtled to Jeremy, who stumbled under the impact. In half an instant, he had pushed the button to close the door. He saw his lost cousing trying to steady both himself and the nurse, and smiled sadly.
"She will pay, cousin." he vowed. "For what she did to the both of us. And then the doors were closed.
And he, Thomas Storm, follower of the Truth, knew that he had to keep that vow. He would make her pay. Dearly. Completely. In the name of what had once been, and what was now irremediably lost to him.
Oh, yes, that Betrayer would pay, more than the others. More than even Nathan would have, if all had gone as planned.
* * * * * * * * * *
Five minutes later...
Moving Nathan out had been a very good idea, they had all agreed when they all knew what Thomas was capable of - althought they had needed Claudia's charm and mastery of improvisation to convince the hospital staff to do as they wished. Leaving Alex to protect him in case he somehow found out where his would-be victim really recuperated was also sound, althought the fact that Claudia had stubbornly decided to stay with the crippled man and her lover had been taken rather badly by both these men and even the one who was about to confront his cousin about murder. Her presence thus made Alex's presence all the more important. But he still couldn't help feeling irked.
Not that the young whrestler would leave his post now, but he had secretely wanted to be there, to see what kind of twisted reasons the guy would spout to redeem his unredeemable actions. It wasn't that he really was worried that Jeremy would be in grave danger. If it came down to hand-to-hand - and he rather thought it would - his friend was definitely the stronger fighter. Nevertheless, he still ached to be there.
He looked over the room where Nathan now rested, a room that - to him at least - seemed to be the exact same dull sterility of a room that the other had been. Nathan had fallen asleep almost immediately, despite the stress of what had happened just a few hours ago and what was probably happening right now. It wasn't much because he didn't care but rather that his shattered body was completely spent. He looked briefly at the scarred face and listened to the slightly wheezing breath and once again cursed himself for judging Nathan. After all, hadn't the guy gone to see that mad bastard Thomas by himself to try and prevent this? And this had been the price he had paid for that foolhardy but well-meaning action. No wonder, after that, that he had wanted Thomas dead and cared little about everyone's feelings on the subject.
Claudia was seated just next to the crippled teenager, comforting the troubled sleep of one guy and the troubled thoughts of another by her mere presence. She had been the one to apologize first when they had discovered how much of a monster Thomas really was, and he had acepted them so gratefully that it was clear he had felt ashame of his own actions. He had also apologized, but by the time he had, things had already gone back to normal between the two.
He sighed and walked over to where Claudia was sitting. She looked up at him tiredly.
"No sign, huh?"
He shook his head. "Nah." But no sign is a good sign as far as I'm concerned, he thought silently.
"Jeremy will be allright. He's way stronger than Tom is."
"The Tom we thought we knew, maybe. But who can really tell the inner strength of a psychopath?" he asked.
She was silent for a moment. Then she smiled. "Bend down."
"Huh?" That wasn't something he expected.
"Just bend down. I want to kiss you." she stated simply, as if she was talking about something completely normal to do. He contemplated how to answer that, then finally decided the easiest thing to do was to obey. He was thus in the process of bending down his great frame, when a cold voice snapped behind him.
"Fuck! Do that later, we don't have much time!!!"
He had whirled around at the first syllable, assuming a whrestling combat stance and mentally kicking himself for being so neglectful. Fortunately, it was Jeremy, and not Thomas, who looked back at them both. He relaxed slightly before fully reading his friend's expression. When he saw it - anger, fear and more than a touch of deperation - he felt very cold very suddenly. Claudia also saw it.
"What's wrong?" they both asked at exactly the same time - something that would have been funny had the situation not been that tense.
He was silent, fighting what seemed to be an overwhelming tide of emotions. "That...monster... has Melissa. Now come. Claudia, you drive. Alex, I'll need your power and strength on this." he started to move off, then realized they were gaping at him, dealing with the news of Melissa's plight rather badly. He made angry motions of impatience. "Come on! Come on!" And started off into the corridor. Hesitating a second more, they both ran after him.
Alex was beside him in three strides. In his mind, he was still trying to deal with the fact that Thomas had Melissa. If he was as mad as his actions were pointing him out to be, what he might do to her, the pain she could suffer, the things that....no. Enough. He couldn't think about that right now. Definitely couldn't think about it, for his personal sake. He thus took on another tack with the smaller fighter.
"Jer...If he really has her..." he started.
"He does." was the impatient reply.
"Okay, then...how are we gonna find him? He could be anywhere!" The wrestler's statement had little effect, as the brown-haired youth only quickened his pace.
There was, however, an answer. "I may have been blind to his madness, Alex. But I knew the place he prefered to go to. I kept a track on him, if not his actions." the last part was spat like a curse.
"Then why do you need us then?" asked Claudia, almost jogging to keep up with the two. The answer came only when they came to an elevator. Punching the call button, he turned to them with a grim outlook.
"I want you two for a good reason each. Thomas certainly isn't alone because then Melissa could escape. I need Alex's skill and strength to help me there. As for you Claudia, she's the one who can drive us to Tom's place fastest."
Alex nodded. It made sense. However, there was one question he had to ask. Not one he wanted to ask, really, but seeing the controlled rage and despair etched on his friend's usually mild face, he found it was a must.
"Jer..." he coughed, hesitated. This wasn't easy. "Jer...what if we're...too late."
And the look that Jeremy gave him told it all. He never spoke. He never had the need to.
The look clearly said I'll KILL him!
It was a look Alex never wanted to see again from someone he called friend.
* * * * * * * * * *
Twenty minutes later...
One could have said Melissa was afraid. Or terrified. Scared shitless. They could have said all that and more. And she would simply have stated that they knew nothing about the situation, for the terror she felt was unbearable and unimagined by those who have never felt it. And those who were in this world who could speak of this kind of situation were few.
She tugged at the rope that tied her to a wooden beam in the ceiling, knowing it was futile. The rope was too sturdy, the beam too strong. Her wrist were red and bloody from her previous attempts, and her strength - just like her hope - had died quickly when she saw that there was no getting out of this. Once again, unbidden, her mind showed her how she had come into such desperate position.
It had come in Thomas's car. Stupid girl, she was. Stupid to have followed him, to have left the safety of the tournament's crowd behind, to have ignored the sense of danger she felt for him. And the sense had been right. He hadn't taken the way that led to the hospital. When she had inquired why, he had told her to shut up, that he was only doing the right thing. She had inquired further, despite the fear which was quickly rising within her. That's when things had gone crazy. His whole outlook had changed, his face becoming increasingly demented as he told her that she was nothing but a Betrayer or whatever and that her presence was, as he said, corrupting Jeremy and making him like her or something similar. It was then that it truly struck her finally.
Thomas Storm, she had always thought somewhat dangerous. But the man next to her wasn't simply dangerous.
He was also completely and, if that was possible, gleefully insane.
Good sense had screamed at her to flee, to throw herself out of the blasted car, injuries be damned. After all, she was better off wounded, even gravely, than with him. She had started to go for the door, but he had seen her. Not surprising. Trained since childhood to detect small changes in opponents demeanor, even more heightened by dementia, he had read her like an open book. Out of the corner of her eye, she had seen him lash out with his fist. There had been a brutal impact, much pain - as if she'd been hit by an hammer on the side of the face - and then, blissfully, darkness.
She had come to here - wherever here was. To her it looked like an old room in an old warehouse. Perhaps a room where a manager worked. She couldn't know and at that moment she didn't care, for it didn't change her position. She was helpless Her hands tied and hooked to the ceiling, forcing her to remain at a standing position, the side of her face still burning. He had been there when she had come to, looking at her with an expression of revulsion, contempt and fascination - like she was a strange but precious specimen in a lab. She had tried to speak to him, but had found out that he had gagged her as well. So she could do nothing but look back, and pray he wouldn't hurt her anymore.
She had been somewhat lucky. The only thing he had done was to clamp one of his hands around her jaw, forcing her to face him eye-to-eye.
"You're alive right now because of only one thing: my cousin. I'm going to try to bring him to reason. If it works, I'll consider letting you go - not whole, mind you, but alive at least. If it does not work, and my cousin is lost because of you, I'll give you the worst kind of death that I'll be able to imagine on the spot." he had let her go, then had added, like an afterthought "Oh, and don't bother trying to get out of here: I got three guys here who'll make sure you stay put. They won't hurt you - much, that's my duty, but they'll prevent you from making too much noise." and with that, he had left.
It had been at least an hour since then, and she hadn't dared move much. Althought she couldn't see them, she could definitely hear the "three guys" that were supposed to keep her in line. She had at first been terrified of them entering the room, and using her to...to...she couldn't bear to really think about it, her mind wouldn't let her. But they hadn't entered. Probably at his order. Tom had distinctively said that he would deal with her, that they wouldn't hurt her. And the three thugs outside probably didn't want to mess with someone so strong and so very completely mad.
She then remembered that, if things didn't work out, if Tom couldn't make Jeremy "see reason", he punish her dearly - something that could only make her panic. Because she knew Jeremy and Claudia and even that huge young man called Alex enought to know none of them would see Tom's reasoning as anything even ressembling sanity. Which would piss Tom, who would take revenge on her.
That thought would have made just about anyone in her position panic. And Melissa wasn't an exception to the rule. Not at all. She used all of her remaining strength to struggle one last time against the ropes that forced her to stand upright, guards be damned. It was no use. No use at all. The only thing she got for herself were deeper cuts on her wrists, more blood, and complete despair. Giving up at last, she closed her eyes and sobbed, the sounds muffled by the gag.
"So, tried to escape, huh, Betrayer?" said a cold voice she now would recognize anywhere. Her eyes shot open. Thomas Storm was standing at the door, looking at her with an expression that she simply couldn't define, but that gave her chills all over her body nonetheless. "Told you it was useless." He closed the door sounlessly and started striding towards her, like a cat reafy to pounce on an helpless mouse. His eyes, displaying only a cold void, remained fixed on her. "No Betrayer ever could escape me and you certainly won't change that. The one Betrayer who ever survived his cleansing did so out of luck. You won't have that luck. Not you. Not after the vow I made."
She could read his eyes now, and what she saw made her shake uncontrollably. She saw madness and fervor, and his voice carried a near-religious glee that absolutely terrified her. Tom reached out when he came near her and stroked her cheek softly with his left hand. Althought she tried to remain relatively calm, muffled whimpers issued forth when he did so. He didn't seem to notice.
"To him. To my beloved cousin. A cousin that is lost, now. Corrupted. Fallen!" his stroke suddenly became a harsh slap which cracked loudly throught the room. The pain to her face, which had nearly vanished, returned fully, and she saw stars for a moment. But the man before her - or rather, what had once been a man - never noticed the pain, too bent on his mad rage and confronted with his inner demons.
"He was pure once, bitch. Pure. Untouched. He resisted the corruption brought by that fucking meddler Nathan, that whiny slut Claudia and even from that huge, muscle-bound moron Alex. And then you came along. You, the greatest Betrayer of them all! You changed him! Made him into a Betrayer." Something seemed to snap then, and the fullness of his madness and fury was revealed. "HE'S GONE, AND ITS ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU DAMN, STUPID BITCH!!!"
He hit her then. A direct blow to her stomach. She felt like someone had driven a hammer throught her. She felt her ribs crack under the strain, while the air was knocked out of her and bile rose to her mouth. She nearly choked on it and the only reason she didn't scream was because she couldn't find the strength to do so. She ver had a chance to recover, when he punched her again, this time right in the face, making her black out for what seemed only a few seconds. Blackness ruled her then. And she welcomed it. But she came back too quickly.
Pain was awash now, all over her body, and she couldn't help but scream. She found then that she could scream, that the gag had been removed. Tom was there still, sitting on the floor, looking at various knives when he heard her. He looked at her and giggled madly.
"Back with me, Betrayer? Good! I want you to feel this fully." he got up with a knife, and she recoiled from the look he gave. Amused, angry, lustful, maddened, so many emotions, making such a terrible mix. He reached up and swiftly cut the rope that held her in her standing pose. Her legs, painful and weakened, were unable to hold her weight, and she crumbled to the floor. Her hands were still tied, bleeding, in front of her. She looked up at his wildly triumphant face, and she felt new terror course throught her body.
"What are you g-g-g-going t-to do to m-m-me?" she managed to stammer. She knew she wouldn't like the answer, if there even was one, but she had to ask.
He smiled. "Play with my prey before the kill." he answered simply.
She was intelligent enought to know what the last statement meant. When it hit her, all her being froze with the implications.
It was only when he bent over to her that she screamed.
* * * * * * * * * *
At the same moment...
The three men waiting outside hadn't flinched when they had heard the first of the girl's scream. But they had all cringed with the second, which was filled with horror and denial.
"NO!! DOOON'T!?!?! PLEASE!!!! NO!!!!! N-mmmph!" was the last thing coherent they heard for a long while. They her noises after that - muffled screams, the faint crack of bone breaking, other sounds they didn't really didn't want identify. With the treatment that seemed to be going on, that girl couldn't last long.
"Hey, hey!" siad one of the men. "No way I'm letting him do this!! We were told that he was just gonna rough'er up a bit, no torture her to death!!"
Another one, who had been smaking a cigarette in the corner, listened to the brutal - if faint - sounds that came from the other side of the closed door, and looked to the only calm one of the trio, who saw at a table rolling a pair of dice. "Mike's right here, Ian. No way we can let him go that far. I'm a thief, maybe, but not a fuckin' murderer."
The third man - young, early twenties, looked at the other two thugs with a cold look. Of the three, he was the only one that hadn't blanched when the beating had begun. The only one that seemed set on the path the group had taken.
From the other room, the sounds of beating died down, to be replaced by raspy grunts and muffled sobs. They couldn't here what was going on - not exactly - but they could tell what was going on. Rape. Ugly word for many. Common place for the places the three hanged out in. But it was one thing to hear about it and quite another to be a spectator to the very thing. Hearing the sounds, Mike went green while his partner went paler than ever. They looked at Ian. Always at Ian. Stupid, mindless thugs, always looking for guidance. Ian Deneen knew these two well. But he had also come to know Thomas Storm.
"Just keep your cool. He won't go against us if we do. Now sit down." The grunts cot louder on the other side. Ian tried to ignore them.
Mike wouldn't be sensible, however. "But, hear that!" he said, pointing to the closed door on the other side of which a gruesome drama was unfolding. "He's...he's."
"Rape. The word you're looking for is rape."
"We gotta do something."
Ian nodded. "And we are. The only thing we can do. Nothing."
The thug called Mike opened his mouth to retort, but never got the chance to say anything. For from the other side there was a scream. Not a scream of pain or fear, but a mix of both, pushed beyond the limits of reason. An unending scream that bespoke hooror and agony, and the falling of a life. It was scream that made the thugs scramble as far away from the door as they could. The scream continued for what seemed an eternity, its intensity never wavering. It was worse than horrible - it was the scream of a person who was being ripped apart.
And with that scream, even Ian Deneed, heartless as he was, tough as he was, was shaken top the core of his being, pride and the knowledge of the monster that lay on the other side of the door being the only things he clung to in order not to clamp his ears shut with his hands. He looked at his partners sadly, his gaze broken by the despair and horror of the scream.
"We can't help her. You don't know him. I do. He'll kill us if we go in. All three of us. Easily. Gladly. There's nothing we can do. Her fate....its over for her. Over."
He was convinced of that. And he would always be.
But that scream would follow him throught the rest of his dark, unsavory life.
* * * * * * * * * *
Thirty seconds later...
They had heard the scream as they got out of the car, just a little way from the abandoned warehouse that Jeremy said was Tom's favourite place to seek solitude. The scream was so horrible, so intense, that they could do for a moment was stand, wedged to the ground, their minds frozen with an indescribable dread.
Then Jeremy's mind told him who that voice belonged to. Terror and a frenzied energy took hold of him, and he sprinted towards the warehouse, his legs pumping, his speed reaching a level that would normally have astounded him. Behind him, he heard words, then the hard clacking sound of feet running, catching up quickly. With him. That meant nothing to him. All that meant anything to him was the scream he was hearing and the portent of it.
A heavy body passed him, pounding, coming to the door and kicking it open easily. He followed the large man - he was so focused he didn't even remember who it was - and found himself inside the warehouse. All was dark inside. Dark and empty. This place certainly hadn't been used in years. But it wasn't completely empty. No, there was someone here. The light at the far end proved it. Jeremy and the other man ran toward the light as quickly as they could.
The scream abruptly stopped.
His heart skipped a beat at that. And then, from the core of his being, he howled in his turn. But althought there was horror in that scream, it was fueled by rage and despair, and was almost inhuman in its bestiality.
Three bodies came between him and the lighted room. He didn't know them. Didn't even know what they were, and not caring. One tried to block his way. Jeremy's leg lashed out in a blur, kicking it repeatedly. The body fell. He jumped over it, forgetting he had even hit something, and ran to the door.
It was locked. Without thinking, his right foot came forward and tore the door out of its hinges. He stepped in.
There were two bodies inside the room. One was standing up, the other was immobile on the floor. He looked at the immobile body, incomprehending. Then his senses caught up with him, allowing him to see the body for what - and who - it was. For a moment, he was so stunned with complete horror that reason returned.
His cousin - sweating, bloody, holding a long knife red with blood and gore, looked at him serenely. "It is done, cousin. She has been given what she deserved all along. You..."
The monster that had once been Thomas Storm may have said something else, only the smaller man was no longer listening. At the word "deserved", his mind went blank, registering nothing else but a burning wrath and the insane desire to hurt and kill. He charged with another beastlike howl, no longer caring about anything.
All he wanted to do was kill his cousin.
* * * * * * * * * *
At the same time...
Alex was having a harder time than he thought he would. Certainly, he had fought before, plenty of times. And he'd fought against more than one opponent two or three times before this. So he wasn't lacking on knowledge. And he wasn't lacking on skills. Yes, he could take them on. Only his mind wasn't on it at all. It was on the howl that belonged to a friend, and the madness that lay therein.
Fortunately, he was only fighting two opponents. The savage kick Jeremy had given to one of them had fairly assured that the thug would be out of the fight for a good long while. He studied his opponents. One of them was of average height, well-built, dressed in a yellow shirt and green pants. He held himself badly - no true skills beyond the basics. He also seemed scared all of his mind, which may make him stronger but also would make him fumble at all times no problem there. It was the other one that bore the most watching. All in black - shirt, pants, hair, hell, even the eyes! - that one was very tall, almost as tall as Alex himself, and had a good build. He also held himself with focus and a relaxed, assured stance that spoke of some skills. This was his target, the dangerous factor he had to take out first.
The dark-haired man attacked stealthily, without fanfare or warning. He sent a series of jabs and hooks aiming for diferent parts of the body. Face, groin, plexus, everywhere the blow would tell. That one definitely knew how to fight. Alex, however, knew best. He blocked the blows easily, but neglected to notice the man's shift of weight. As it was, he saw the kick at the last second, and barely had the time to twist as the foot came swinging up. As it was, he received it on the shoulder rather than on the shoulder rather than on the side of the head, but the pain was still unbelivably sharp, and his defense let up for a moment.
His opponent saw his chance. Swift punches fell on his face, and the tall whrestler stumbled back, trying to catch his breath and focus again. But always his opponent was there, snapping quick attacks here, there and everywhere. For a few moments, it was all Alex could do just to keep up.
That's when the giant got pissed. Here he was, losing to someone who didn't have even half of his skill! He parried one punch, then grabbed the next, holding the fist into an iron vice. His opponent winced at this, tried to pull back. But Alex wouldn't let him. He jumped up, driving a muscular knee into the low stomach of the black fighter, surging upward and crashing downward with all the strength and momentum his two hundred and thirty-two ponds of muscles could put in. That was a move of his, one he called the Grab and Slam His opponent cried out at the impact, then huffed as he tried to refill depleted lungs. Not hesitating a second, he drew back his great fist and slugged the groggy man with all of his might. The dark-clothed guy became still.
He got to his feet, looking at his other opponent, who had been to scared to even move. He walked towards him, intent on finishing this quickly...
"FLARE TALON!!!!!!!!"
Part of the wooden wall exploded at the snarled words, sending a bloody, broken body flying throught. The scared man freaked at seeing this, the last of his courage evaporating as he fainted dead at the giant's feet. The giant, for himself, looked at the events unfolding with wide eyes.
He saw Thomas - a very beaten-looking Thomas - rising painfully on unsteady feet. His clothes were shredded, and he sported wide, purple spots everywhere on his body. Nasty marks. Marks made by fists and feet. His face was what had suffered the most. Red and swollen, it was barely recognizable. Blood was flowing aplenty from his broken mouth, and only one eye still looked out, the other being swollen shut.
The broken man looked toward the hole in terror and anger, and Alex let his startled gaze wander to it, knowing what he would find, or just about.
Jeremy was there, charging. His clothes also lookes shredded, and he had marks on his body as well, but they were fewer and not nearly as extensive. His face was feral and unyielding, a mask of hatred and madness. Alex shivered.
The assault was brief. Thomas crumbled under the first punch, his body giving out. But it wasn't enought that he was uncouncious. Not to his maddened friend. Punches and kicks fell unendingly on the prone body, snarls erupting from a maddened man. Alex saw that if hedid not act now, the other man was dead.
He grabbed hold of Jeremy, holding the smaller man tightly with all the strength of his arms. There were screams as the smaller fighter struggled, and the tall blond youth found himself taxed heavily.
"Jer, stop! This isn't what you want! This isn't what you are! You're not a killer!" The pleading had no effect, the struggles from his captive were only getting stronger. In despearation, not knowing what to say, Alex shouted.
"JER! DO YOU THINK THAT'S WHAT MELISSA WOULD HAVE WANTED?!?"
And, somehow, that did the trick. There was a last howl as he said the name, and then the smaller body started to shiver. It was quickly followed by sobs, heavy and heart-broken. Alex kept his hold on his friend. Not in fear of the smaller man attacking, but to give his friend something tangible to hold on to. He looked at the hole and saw a broken, mangled body covered in blood on the other side. With an horrified start, he recognized who it had been, and he looked away. God, she had died so...horribly. She was so mangled she was barely human in looks. He looked at Thomas's broken body, at the great wounds that were on it.
He looked long at those. And spat on the man.
What had happened to Thomas wasn't horrible at all.
It was deserved.
It was justice.
And so, holding on to his weeping friend, Alex waited for the police he had sent Claudia to call.
* * * * * * * * * *
One week later...
"So, no contact darlin'?" said a raspy, strong female voice on the phone.
Steve Hemmerson sighed. "Nope. I don't think there will be either. And after what the guy has just been through, I can't blame him, either."
"Having your girlfriend killed by your own cousin, then coming within an hair of killing same cousin yourself? Sure is hard on one's karma."
"We're the losers here, as well." Steve added earnestly "The kid was strong, and getting stronger. He probably would've been the strongest among us yet."
"Besides Giorgio, you mean?"
"Including Giorgio. Maybe not at first but within a few years - at the rate he seemed to be going - he would have left even Giorgio behind."
The woman whistled. "That's quite a statement coming from you, Steve."
"I still got a few bruises to back that statement, Cindy."
"I don't doubt it, darlin'. Well, bon voyage! See you back in England!"
"Sure, bye!" and Steve hung up. He checked on his bag and his room to see if anything had been overlooked. Nothin, as he well knew. He sighed again, this time in true frustration. He'd given the kid the place he was sleeping at, not knowing if there'd be a follow up but deciding to give the kid a chance to make up his mind. But now...
Now it was all screwed up.
From what he gathered, Thomas Storm was probably going to go to a mental institute for the rest of his life. The jury had been adamant on that after Nathan McIntyre's journal and testimony. The Storm parents were shattered, as were the victims' - for that Steve could only sympathize. Who knew what these people were having to deal with? Claudia Levenson and Alex Strongarm had also given testimony. The only one who had refused to have anything to do with the prosecution - or anything, for that matter - was Jeremy Storm. The young man had locked himself up in his house and refused to see anyone. All in all, a very unpleasant affair. But there wasn't anything the SCD could do to help in this case. They'd just have to let go of it this time.
Hemmerson heaved his athletic frame and trudged to the door. Vacation was over. In two days he'd be back in England and'd go back to kicking some Shadowlaw assholes.
As he neared the door, there was a knock. Curious but cautious, he opened it, ready to act if it was a threat. It wasn't. Instead the would-be recruit, stood there, in jeans, sneakers and a white t-shirt and holding a green duffel bag over his shoulder. Nothing seemed to have changed in the lean, athletic youth, except the eyes. The eyes were older now, lacking the naivetéit had possessed even one week before. These were the eyes of someone who grown up seven years in seven days. And it wasn't only the eyes - the whole face seemed somewhat made of granite.
"Storm." was all he said with a nod.
"Hemmerson." was the even reply.
"Going somewhere?"
"Yah. Taking a trip to England with you."
Steve merely raised an eyebrow, althought he really felt confused inwardly. "You sure that's what you want? If you go in now, there's no backing out."
"So what? I'm in anyway." was the mild, cold answer the brown-haired youth gave.
Steve stared at the would-be recruit. Was it right to take him right now, after all he had been throught? Maybe. But he couldn't let the occasion pass. Let Brisby and Castillo deal with the kid if it came to that.
"Fine. Let's go then. We don't want to be late." he took his own things and left the room, closing the door behind him. He then started walking, the younger man keeping in stride, silent and brooding.
It seemed like his little vacation hadn't been a waste after all. He just hoped he wasn't making a mistake by agreeing so quickly to a sudden decision. But, as with all mistakes, he would deal with them.
Directly, if need be.
_______________________________________________
Here we go! Sorry I've been so long. Exams have been a drag these days. However, I'm finished now and will try to bring my chapters in more quickly.
This ends the "background" part of my story - the rest of Will and Fate will be less about Jeremy - althought he WILL remain the most important character MOST of the time - and will show more Street Fighters we know and other original characters. Hope you'll like it!
And people...I CRAVE FEEDBACK!!!
See ya soon!
-Jeremy-
