Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to "Andromeda" or its characters. I am simply borrowing them, I swear!
A/N: Thanks for the reviews!
Title: "The Girl Who Hated All"
Summary: When the Andromeda comes across a very strange young girl, they have no choice but to allow her to come with them. But when strange events begin to occur, there is only one suspect, and they can't seem to get rid of her . . .
Genre: Supernatural/Horror
Rating: PG-13 for language and supernatural occurrences.
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Chapter Six
Harper rubbed at his back. He could already feel the burns begin to scab over, but they still were hot to the touch. Harper began to yawn, but snapped his mouth closed, in an attempt to cut off the yawn. He knew that he needed a good rest, but after all of this time spent reading The Book, The Wrath of Whirling, he wasn't about to give up now.
He stood up off of the stool he had been sitting on and was hit with an intense head rush. He stumbled a bit, shaking his head to rid himself of the dizziness. He blinked his eyes a few times; the Andromeda seemed to be rocking back and forth, and the movement of the Machine Shop was making him slightly nauseous.
The ship suddenly lurched forwards, and Harper felt himself lose his balance and begin falling down towards the floor . . .
. . . but no, it was no longer the floor; it was a deep abyss that catapulted into a deep, dark nothingness. Harper's eyes grew wider and he waved his arms about frantically. "No no no no," he whispered, repeating that one word over and over.
He was falling. He looked down into the abyss; it seemed to grin up at him menacingly, because it knew, it knew . . .
. . . it knew Harper's fear. It knew that once his balance gave out, he would be completely gone. Gone. The word stuck in Harper's mind. Gone. His stomach flip-flopped at the mere thought of it. Finally, his balance completely gave in, and he fell down into the mouth of the abyss . . .
. . . he was sent sprawling onto the machine shop's cool, metal floor. He grunted as his body hit the ground; all of the wind had been knocked out of him. Harper did not move. What was the point? His eyes were squeezed tightly shut. God, he wanted, needed, to go to sleep, but no! What he really needed was to make sure that Agrona did not get at the book. If she did-Harper didn't even want to think about what could happen.
He sighed, pushing himself back up into a standing position. He staggered a bit, grasping onto the table as he regained his balance. His back was burning like Hell, and now he felt as though his ribcage had collapsed. He rubbed his arm absently over his chest.
Harper's head snapped towards the door as footsteps began to approach . . . and then fade into the distance. He ran a hand through his blond hair. "What is wrong with me?" he asked himself, slumping down onto a stool. He placed his hand on the cover of the book, soaking in all of the power, the evil, the destruction. It amazed him as well as terrified him.
His eyelids began to slide closed. He lowered his head onto the table and buried his face in his arms. "Just . . . a rest," he said in between yawns. A sense of mirth overtook him as he drifted off into a small doze. Just . . . a rest. Nothing more. His body rose and fell with each even breath.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open at the sound of an ear-pitching scream. His head rose and he glanced towards the door. That scream . . . had it, had it been . . . real? Or just another figment of his imagination? He shook his head. "No, it couldn't have been real," he decided.
But there it was again; the shrill scream of a person in pain. No, not just some person: a woman. "Beka?" he said, nervously, rising from his seat. He started towards the door.
As Harper entered the hallway, he called again: "Beka?" He walked down the hallway, a little boy trying to find his mother in a large crowd. "B-Beka?" It had sounded a lot like her, although Harper could not recall hearing her scream in such a way before.
There it was again: that scream. There was no doubt in Harper's mind that it wasn't Beka. He took off into a sprint, towards where he believed the screams were coming from: the main deck.
He passed through the doors, into the main deck. What he saw sent his heart racing and his breathing into the same form as someone having a severe asthma attack: Agrona was standing over Beka's gnarled body. Agrona was grinning madly, her green eyes flashing at Harper wildly.
Harper stumbled back a few steps, grasping at his chest. In Agrona's arms was The Book. The red hexagon was just barely visible over her arm. "W-Wha? H-How?" Harper stammered, looking from the gleaming eyes of Agrona to Beka's still body.
He began to tremble uncontrollable, shaking his head. "No, no, n-no." He backed up quickly, slamming his back against the wall. The sudden shock of the pressure against his burn wounds causing him to cry aloud.
He slunk down into a crouching position. His head was buried deep in his arms, but he continued to shake his head. Was it possible? Did Agrona win? Was it all his fault?
"Harper . . ?" Harper froze. The voice had sounded like Beka. But it wasn't possible. She was . . . gone, right? "Harper, what's wrong?" He felt two hands land on his shoulders and give them a small squeeze. His head flew up and he looked into Beka's confused eyes. "Seamus, what's the matter with you?" she asked, the question coming out a little harsher than she had hoped.
Harper stared at her, then glanced back at the spot where she had been lying; Agrona was gone. "Beka, you're alive!" he gasped, throwing his arms around her shoulders. "Oh, my God," he mumbled, releasing his arms from her. "I-I saw . . . you were-oh God." He rubbed at his temple. "I don't know . . ."
Beka offered Harper a hand; he accepted it and she pulled him to his feet. "You look terrible," she said, placing a hand on his forehead. "No fever. How long has it been since you've gone to sleep?"
Harper shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know; a day or two . . . or three," he added, quietly.
"Three days?" repeated Beka, raising her eyebrows. "Harper, go to Med Deck and, for the love of God, go to sleep." She looked into Harper's bloodshot, tired eyes. "Please?" she added, a hint of pleading in her voice.
Harper thought about her request. Sure, he really wanted to go to sleep. He sure as hell needed it, but if he did, well . . . He shook his head. "No, that's okay, I'll just go to my room to go to sleep, okay?" He gave her a small grin.
Beka looked down at the engineer. "All right, but you'd better get some rest. You can't afford not to sleep."
"Right, Mom," he shot back, rolling his eyes. Man, he hated being treated like that. He hated it with a passion, but, at that moment, he couldn't care either way; he really needed to get to the Machine Shop and get The Book before Agrona did. "Okay, g'night," he said, turning around and walking out of the main deck out into the hallway.
As soon as the doors shut, Harper sprinted off towards his shop. He reached it in a matter of minutes, and went through the doors. He breathed a sigh of relief; The Book was still there on his table. He walked up to the table and picked it up.
But there was something wrong. His eyes narrowed. The Book was warm to the touch, and he knew that it couldn't have been his own body heat that had warmed it. "Oh no," he moaned. Could that girl (and he used the word "girl" loosely) have gotten into the shop, read over whatever spells she needed, and left? Harper assumed that it was possible. After all, she was some sort of a demon, so memorizing a spell should have been no problem for her.
Harper turned on his heel and left the machine shop. He figured that Beka and/or Dylan was monitoring him to make sure that he went to bed. He rolled his eyes. "Why can't they just leave me alone?" he asked himself, walking down the hall to his quarters.
As soon as the doors slid shut behind him, Harper dropped The Book onto his bed. "Andromeda, privacy mode on," he commanded, sitting down on his bed and flipping open The Book.
As soon as he opened it, he slammed it shut. What was he doing? There was no way of figuring out what spell Agrona looked up, if she had gotten to The Book at all. He sighed in aggravation and (gently) laid down on his back.
Harper stared at the ceiling for, what seemed like, hours, days even. It all seemed so unreal, like it was all a dream that he would soon wake up from and begin laughing at himself for ever thinking that there was such thing as a "Demon Child." He waited patiently in the dark for some kind of sign that would prove to him that none of this was real . . .
. . . nothing. So it was real. All of it; the fear, the spells, The Book, Agrona . . . all of it was real. Deathly real. "Great," he murmured, rubbing his exhausted eyes. Finally, his body gave out, and Harper fell into a deep, deep sleep . . .
"What do you think is wrong with him?" Dylan asked Beka. They were both in the Observation Deck. Beka was staring through the window, immersed in thought and still puzzled about Harper's behavior earlier. And what he had said: "Beka, you're alive!" Why would he think that she was dead?
She snapped out of her thoughts and looked at Dylan. "Huh?" she asked.
"I said, what do you think is wrong with him?" he repeated.
"I have no idea. Exhaustion, probably." Beka shook her head. "But he seemed so, you know . . ."
"-terrified," Dylan finished, nodding. "But why? Do you think this is about Agrona again?"
"Well . . ." Beka paused. She was ready to say no, but the idea made her pause. Agrona did seem to freak him out, but why? She was just a little girl, nothing more, right? But what she had seen earlier, when Agrona had placed her hands on Harper's back, she still couldn't make sense of it.
"I don't know," she said, finally. Beka was beginning to wonder if there was something extraordinary about Agrona, and what that book Harper had been obsessing over in the Machine Shop was . . .
Harper slept, but a restless sleep nonetheless. What he had seen, Beka lying in a pool of her own blood, Agrona grinning wildly, would not leave his mind, even in sleep. He tossed and turned under the sheets, wanting none of it to be real . . . none of it.
As he flipped over to his left side, his hand smashed against the wall. He awoke with a start, nursing his hand gently. He sat upright in his bed, staring at the dark wall ahead of him. He was slightly glad that he had woken up. Sleep wasn't healthy for his sanity at the moment.
He sat in the darkness, listening only to the sound of his raspy breathing . . . and the footsteps that were pacing behind his bedroom door. He sucked in his breath, not wanting to make any noise in case it was who he thought it was.
The footsteps walked back and forth in front of his door. Back and forth. Back and forth. Harper stared at the crack below the door; he could see a shadow of a person pacing, but he couldn't tell who it was. But he didn't need to. He knew who it was, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
She was waiting for him. Waiting patiently for him to leave his room, and then she'd place a curse on him where he'd die a slow and painful death. He shuddered. He knew that Agrona could do that, if she wanted to.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Harper stared at the moving shadow, waiting for it to leave, although he had a feeling that it wouldn't.
Humming. Agrona had begun humming. What was the tune? He couldn't tell, but he didn't want to. 'Leave!' he shouted at her in his mind. 'God damn it, LEAVE!'
No.
Harper's body gave a quick jolt. He had heard Agrona's voice . . . in his mind? No, there was no way. Right? Just his imagination going at it again. Ha ha. Agrona in his mind. Ha ha.
I'll never leave.
Harper's eyes widened. The voice, it was there again. Or his imagination was doing it again. Ha ha. It almost got him that time, but there was no way she could get into his subconscious. Right?
I'll stay forever and ever . . .
Harper swallowed. It wasn't his mind, he was sure of it this time. Agrona was listening to his thoughts. His thoughts. 'Oh, my God,' he thought, crossing his arms tightly. 'Oh my God . . . she's in my mind.'
I'll never leave. I'll stay out here forever until you come out. Come out. We'll play a game.
'No, no, NO!' he thought. 'Get out of my head! Damn you, get out!'
No. I like it here. You're going crazy . . .
'No I'm NOT!' he thought, his hands flying to his head. 'You're making me seem crazy.'
There was a giggle. Silly, no I'm not. They all think that it's you. And that's whose opinions matter, right? Your crew members, they all think you're going crazy.
'I don't care; once I kill you, you little shit, they'll see that I was right.' He grinned despite himself. The thought of Agrona dying was a wonderful thought.
Kill me? KILL me? You can't kill me, Harper. I could kill you now if I wanted to, but I don't. Not right now. I'm enjoying seeing you suffer.
'Get out of my HEAD, you demon!' he screamed inside his head. 'Get the hell OUT!'
Agrona giggled in his head, but her voice did not come back. He looked at the shadow that had been outside of his door; it was gone. There had been no departing footsteps, nothing. They were just . . . gone.
"Oh, my God," he murmured. "I am going crazy." He drew in a shaky breath. "Someone help me," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Someone help me."
In his mind, he could see her killing his crew, his friends. Their blank eyes staring up at him, saying, "How could you let this happen? It's your fault. Your fault . . ."
His hands flew to his head again. 'My fault . . .' he thought, burying himself in his arms. 'My fault. Someone, for God sakes, help me . . .'
To Be Continued . . .
A/N: If you read, please review! That's all I have to say . . .