This disclaimer should've been in the first chapter I wrote, but I
forgot, so I'll write it now:
I 'm so happy that I got a review (from a very very nice person) that I've decided to go ahead and release another chapter in the same day as the first two have been released. Please R&R. Thanks =)
************
Meryl watched in fascination as the words coming from the typewriter seemed to blend together. It's not that she was typing badly, more that she had been at work so long that most words had lost their meaning. She discreetly covered a yawn with the palm of her hand, leaning back to ease the tightness in the muscles of her back. A shadow passed over her after a few more minutes of typing, and she glanced up, startled.
"Meryl." the chief's droll voice sifted through her ears, "You look exhausted"
Meryl looked back down to the insurance claim she had been writing, embarrassed. "Heh.yeah. I guess I had a late night"
"You've been taking a lot of hours lately," chief stared down his nose at Meryl, almost making it seem as if Meryl's motives for working so much were corrupt.
"Well, yeah, I guess I have."
Meryl offered no explanation, and after realizing that he wasn't going to receive one, the chief sighed and went back to his office. Meryl simply went back to her typing, with nothing more than a shake of her head. She was unwilling to say that she was simply looking for an escape from reality.
Later that evening, as Meryl made her way back to her apartment, she paused at the glass pane of a shop window. Held within, like tantalizing treasures, fine silver weapons winked at her. She stared at them longingly, the sack of groceries clutched in her arms momentarily forgotten. Her thoughts turned to her two-dozen or so derringers. It caused a frown to take control of her lips. With a sudden stint of determination, however, she tore herself from the window and made her way the rest of the way home.
A rather disturbing scene greeted her when she came to the door. It wasn't so much that she found anything amiss, rather that there were several things missing. The biggest of the missing items being her roommate.
"Millie?" Meryl called, poking her head into each room. It didn't take her very long, considering there were only two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom in the whole apartment. She found no Millie. Meryl was suddenly worried. Millie had told Meryl that morning that she was too sick to go to work, and now suddenly she was healthy enough to get up and run around?
Meryl tore through the apartment, looking for some sign of where Millie might be. Her usual clothes were gone, as well as her shoes.
Finally, Meryl looked in the most obvious spot: the fridge. There, tacked up by one of the corny little fridge magnets they had bought to make the place seem more home-like, was a note. Meryl struck the heel of her palm against her forehead, cursing herself for her paranoia of people being missing. She could blame that new trait on Vash, though, since he had that annoying habit of disappearing for long periods of time. Although.it seemed he had disappeared for good this time.
Meryl sighed at the note.
Meryl,
Gone to the bar. Be back late. Don't wait up.
-Millie
She couldn't blame Millie for wanting to drown herself in alcohol. She had lost the love of her life, and the life of her child. Tears came to Meryl's eyes, thinking about that day long ago at the hospital. It was still a fresh wound, to the both of them. Deep down though, Meryl envied Millie. Millie had gotten one night with the man she loved. It was more than Meryl could even hope for. Still, she had grieved both for Wolfwood, and for her friend, as she had watched helplessly while Millie had sobbed until she couldn't breathe. Not that Millie had wanted to still be breathing after that night. But she had pulled through. Meryl admired her strength.
With one final sigh, Meryl thought of the long workday ahead of her day, and went to bed.
Later that night the sound of a crash brought Meryl back to consciousness with a vicious slap. She sat bolt upright in bed, her hand instinctively swiping up the derringer she kept on her nightstand. She froze, then, and listened, her ears straining for even the slightest sounds.
Nothing.
And then.muffled cries. Cries of pain. In a voice that Meryl recognized all too well.
Her bare feet hit the floor, and before rational thought could reach her, she was barreling from her room and down the hallway to Millie's room.
"Millie!" She cried, throwing open the door, "I heard sounds a---"
Her voice died in her throat as she took in the scene before her: blood on the floor. Millie's blood.
"MILLIE!" Meryl screamed to the empty room, dashing forward to look out the shattered window, hoping to see the culprits, and her best friend, on the street below. But there was no one.
However, there was the soft sound of a click behind her. Meryl whirled, coming face to face with the barrel of a pistol.
"Don't move." a familiar voice told her. She couldn't place the name of the voice, however.
Meryl didn't bother asking who it was coming to call at this hour, however, as her arm snapped up, the hard steal of her derringer connecting with soft temple. The person crumbled, crying out in pain.
Standing over them, the fury of hell in her eyes, Meryl's foot came down on the injured spot. There was another cry, but Meryl felt no mercy.
"Where are they taking Millie?"
"Annng..." Was her only reply.
"WHERE?!"
"To December!" The woman gasped finally, "20 miles North of December!"
Meryl narrowed her eyes.
"That's all I needed to know"
With a swift kick to the same tender spot, the woman was unconscious. Meryl glanced around for a moment, taking stock, before bolting from the apartment.
She didn't stop running until she reached her vehicle. The fact that she was still clad in her pajamas never crossed her mind. She only thought of Millie's safety. She had to save her.
Meryl couldn't see anybody left on the all-too-quiet street, but she could see the tracks of another, larger vehicle well enough. There was another small jeep parked in front of the building. Meryl assumed it belonged to the woman who had tried to gun her down.
Taking off, she was going a ridiculous speed before she slammed on the breaks, causing the tires to skid and her car to come dangerously close to crashing into the handrailing of the walkway on the side of the road. She leapt from the vehicle, leaving the keys, and moves up to the window of a dark shop. She hesitated only a moment before once again lashing out with her derringer. The glass broke easily, and Meryl took no notice of the small cuts she received from flying shards of glass.
A minute later found her once again roaring down the road, headed now into open desert. Murder was on her mind. She would settle for nothing less
I 'm so happy that I got a review (from a very very nice person) that I've decided to go ahead and release another chapter in the same day as the first two have been released. Please R&R. Thanks =)
************
Meryl watched in fascination as the words coming from the typewriter seemed to blend together. It's not that she was typing badly, more that she had been at work so long that most words had lost their meaning. She discreetly covered a yawn with the palm of her hand, leaning back to ease the tightness in the muscles of her back. A shadow passed over her after a few more minutes of typing, and she glanced up, startled.
"Meryl." the chief's droll voice sifted through her ears, "You look exhausted"
Meryl looked back down to the insurance claim she had been writing, embarrassed. "Heh.yeah. I guess I had a late night"
"You've been taking a lot of hours lately," chief stared down his nose at Meryl, almost making it seem as if Meryl's motives for working so much were corrupt.
"Well, yeah, I guess I have."
Meryl offered no explanation, and after realizing that he wasn't going to receive one, the chief sighed and went back to his office. Meryl simply went back to her typing, with nothing more than a shake of her head. She was unwilling to say that she was simply looking for an escape from reality.
Later that evening, as Meryl made her way back to her apartment, she paused at the glass pane of a shop window. Held within, like tantalizing treasures, fine silver weapons winked at her. She stared at them longingly, the sack of groceries clutched in her arms momentarily forgotten. Her thoughts turned to her two-dozen or so derringers. It caused a frown to take control of her lips. With a sudden stint of determination, however, she tore herself from the window and made her way the rest of the way home.
A rather disturbing scene greeted her when she came to the door. It wasn't so much that she found anything amiss, rather that there were several things missing. The biggest of the missing items being her roommate.
"Millie?" Meryl called, poking her head into each room. It didn't take her very long, considering there were only two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom in the whole apartment. She found no Millie. Meryl was suddenly worried. Millie had told Meryl that morning that she was too sick to go to work, and now suddenly she was healthy enough to get up and run around?
Meryl tore through the apartment, looking for some sign of where Millie might be. Her usual clothes were gone, as well as her shoes.
Finally, Meryl looked in the most obvious spot: the fridge. There, tacked up by one of the corny little fridge magnets they had bought to make the place seem more home-like, was a note. Meryl struck the heel of her palm against her forehead, cursing herself for her paranoia of people being missing. She could blame that new trait on Vash, though, since he had that annoying habit of disappearing for long periods of time. Although.it seemed he had disappeared for good this time.
Meryl sighed at the note.
Meryl,
Gone to the bar. Be back late. Don't wait up.
-Millie
She couldn't blame Millie for wanting to drown herself in alcohol. She had lost the love of her life, and the life of her child. Tears came to Meryl's eyes, thinking about that day long ago at the hospital. It was still a fresh wound, to the both of them. Deep down though, Meryl envied Millie. Millie had gotten one night with the man she loved. It was more than Meryl could even hope for. Still, she had grieved both for Wolfwood, and for her friend, as she had watched helplessly while Millie had sobbed until she couldn't breathe. Not that Millie had wanted to still be breathing after that night. But she had pulled through. Meryl admired her strength.
With one final sigh, Meryl thought of the long workday ahead of her day, and went to bed.
Later that night the sound of a crash brought Meryl back to consciousness with a vicious slap. She sat bolt upright in bed, her hand instinctively swiping up the derringer she kept on her nightstand. She froze, then, and listened, her ears straining for even the slightest sounds.
Nothing.
And then.muffled cries. Cries of pain. In a voice that Meryl recognized all too well.
Her bare feet hit the floor, and before rational thought could reach her, she was barreling from her room and down the hallway to Millie's room.
"Millie!" She cried, throwing open the door, "I heard sounds a---"
Her voice died in her throat as she took in the scene before her: blood on the floor. Millie's blood.
"MILLIE!" Meryl screamed to the empty room, dashing forward to look out the shattered window, hoping to see the culprits, and her best friend, on the street below. But there was no one.
However, there was the soft sound of a click behind her. Meryl whirled, coming face to face with the barrel of a pistol.
"Don't move." a familiar voice told her. She couldn't place the name of the voice, however.
Meryl didn't bother asking who it was coming to call at this hour, however, as her arm snapped up, the hard steal of her derringer connecting with soft temple. The person crumbled, crying out in pain.
Standing over them, the fury of hell in her eyes, Meryl's foot came down on the injured spot. There was another cry, but Meryl felt no mercy.
"Where are they taking Millie?"
"Annng..." Was her only reply.
"WHERE?!"
"To December!" The woman gasped finally, "20 miles North of December!"
Meryl narrowed her eyes.
"That's all I needed to know"
With a swift kick to the same tender spot, the woman was unconscious. Meryl glanced around for a moment, taking stock, before bolting from the apartment.
She didn't stop running until she reached her vehicle. The fact that she was still clad in her pajamas never crossed her mind. She only thought of Millie's safety. She had to save her.
Meryl couldn't see anybody left on the all-too-quiet street, but she could see the tracks of another, larger vehicle well enough. There was another small jeep parked in front of the building. Meryl assumed it belonged to the woman who had tried to gun her down.
Taking off, she was going a ridiculous speed before she slammed on the breaks, causing the tires to skid and her car to come dangerously close to crashing into the handrailing of the walkway on the side of the road. She leapt from the vehicle, leaving the keys, and moves up to the window of a dark shop. She hesitated only a moment before once again lashing out with her derringer. The glass broke easily, and Meryl took no notice of the small cuts she received from flying shards of glass.
A minute later found her once again roaring down the road, headed now into open desert. Murder was on her mind. She would settle for nothing less