DO NOT judge this story by the default chapter. Read the first chapter…then hate it. That is the proper order of things.
Disclaimer: I don't own TT…or Slade. Lay off me.
Slade wants something; she's in the way. There are only three rules to surviving alone with Slade: don't be inconvenient, don't touch the mask, and don't be in the way.
Her chest was constricting. Somewhere in the blackness an infant wailed; a long, angry sound only perfect helplessness can produce. She had to breath. She had to see.
Hands and half seen faces floated in and out of the oily blackness surrounding her, like insects around a candle flame. They came close one second, and were gone the next. They peered down long noses with unseen eyes, watching, then disappearing. The terrified screams of a baby continued all the while, filling the empty void around the small circle of light.
There was a man's voice in the background. It was a voice she knew, yet didn't. A new face parted the blackness before her. Distorted by extremes of light and shadow, the face still felt familiar.
The baby's cries became less urgent, dropping away. The vice around her chest loosened, and she welcomed the new air, sucking it down in great healing gulps. A sad, half grin carved it's way over the new face above her. She wasn't sure, but he looked almost…sorry. Why would he be sorry? This was a face she trusted. He could do no wrong.
But, something was wrong. The child resumed her screaming, and that was wrong too. The noise was too close. It echoed in her ears, her chest, her throat. It was her, she was crying, and she was the baby. And, now, she was afraid
The familiar face frowned with what might have been resolve. The inky fringes of darkness pealed away, revealing a small red syringe. Quavering shrieks escalated as the needle drew close. The hands and faces of before had not yet ventured so near. A stabbing ache bled from the neck through her body as the syringe was unloaded into the white infant flesh.
Amber woke with a choking scream.