15
She knew she was still asleep, well half. She knew that she had to wake up before seeing his death all over again. It was hard enough seeing him lose all faith in his self and fall into despair. It was hard enough seeing Alexia force Steve in becoming the beast.
No, she didn't want to see Steve suffer the way he did, as she stood hopeless to help him. She didn't want to see him cry out to her for help when she couldn't give it to him as she did before. She didn't want to see him scream as the pain of his transformation cut him through and through like he was butter.
Something was preventing her to wake; something manmade was forbidding her to escape from the torment.
She had to open her eyes now!
A bright white light shone down on her, she frowned and re-closed her eyes averting from the light. Someone was with her, his or her faint voice sounded from below her. She couldn't put her finger as to what gender was the voice. Then she realised that she wasn't standing, but lying down.
Claire took a deep breath and opened her eyes again, slightly. She peered through her eyelashes at the strange voice.
"Where was she picked up?"
"Lowland Street," the person sighed, "She was in an accident and she has grazes on her right arm and leg. And a nasty bruise on her face. The police found a motorbike two streets away. They think it's hers."
"And they think she walked away from the wreckage?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't explain her outburst."
"Outburst?"
"Didn't the attending paramedics tell you? Anyway, witnesses saw her screaming about how a 'tyrant' was coming to get her. She then pulled out a knife. She had four of these and she was about to strike. Luckily a member of the public took her down."
The other person flipped through something, it sounded like paper, "She has a history of psychiatric problems as early as a child. We best keep an eye on her she's suicidal."
"Would you be prescribing anything?"
"For the time being we'll keep her sedated, we need to contact any relatives."
"The only relative she has is a brother. He has already-"
"Where I'm I?" Claire said. She opened her eyes fully; two people were with her, a man and a woman. They were both dressed in white, the room was white. She tried to sit up, but something kept her down.
"Hey what's going on?" she panicked.
The woman walked up to her, "its ok Claire you're safe, the 'tyrant' isn't going to get you."
"What? What tyrant? What's going on?" her heart quickened she didn't like this. This wasn't right. The events the night before were still obscure.
Then it clicked to her. Umbrella, they had to be behind this.
She tugged at the restraints; she didn't notice them before until now.
She jerked desperately to get out of them, "Help," she yelled.
The woman glanced at the man; he moved to the door and vanished, "Claire its ok, there's nothing to be afraid of."
Claire narrowed her eyes, "Fuck you! I know how Umbrella works!"
She yanked at the Velcro restraints. It was working! The material was separating. The woman ran to Claire's nearly freed arm. Claire grabbed the woman hard and pulled forcing her entire wrist out of the strap.
The woman glared in fright, "Security!" she screamed.
She tried straining at Claire's grip, but Claire wasn't about to let go. She finally did let go pulling the Velcro strap from her other arm and legs. She got up, only to have the woman block her path to freedom, "Get out of my way," Claire demanded.
The woman wasn't listening or she didn't care. Claire had enough; she didn't know where she was or what happened to her. All she wanted was to go home. She only wanted to see Chris and Leon, but the woman wasn't having that.
She grabbed her arm; Claire struggled and pushed her back. The woman fell to the floor hitting her head on the wall. Claire knelt down and checked her vitals; there was a strong pulse within her neck. She would be fine, just a little pissed.
Claire stood up fast and moved to the door swiftly, she glanced through the window if anyone was outside.
No one.
She opened up the door and stepped through; the hall was long and seemed to go on forever. Her feet were bare and the floor was too cold for her liking. If she walked to her left, which only led to a window, she would be trapped. And she didn't think she was on the ground floor so she opted for the right. She moved on and walked silently to the end of the hall towards a stairway.
"There she goes!" called a voice behind her; she glanced back only to be confronted by three huge men in white. They began running towards her. Claire headed down the stairs, her only thought was to get away from them first and then find a way out.
But that was beginning to look impossible, voices; several voices weren't only coming from behind her but from below her. They were getting louder and louder as they climbed the stairs.
"Fuck!" she muttered. She hated this, now where could she go?
Over the banister?
No, she couldn't, the drop was too faraway. She would surly die! But what else could she do? Go back to Umbrella peacefully and let them perform perverted and very excruciating experiments on her?
No! Of course not!
She stepped towards the edge of the banister and grabbed the wooden frame. Her white gown fluttered, the air rising up from the bottom of the stairway was cold. She shivered, not only from the cool air, but because she was scared. Cold sweat trailed down her face, she wiped her forehead.
She wasn't sure if she could do this.
"Claire," called a voice, "Get away from the railing."
She glanced from her left to her right. There were at least five people on either side of her, "No," she whispered, "I'm not dying like that."
One person moved nearer, Claire shifted closer to the railing and leant forward, "Don't think about it!" she gasped, "I know what you're doing!"
The man knelt down, "Claire do you want to do this?"
She turned to him; tears ran down her cheeks, "Steve?" she sniffed, "Is that you?"
He smiled his beautiful smile. It only broke her heart more, "Yes my angel it is."
Claire burst into tears, "I dreamt about you," she breathed, "You were lonely and sad. I hate seeing you like that."
His red hair fell gently across his forehead, the red of his hair shimmered slightly against the light. It looked like metallic blood. His eyes mirrored the deep oceans of Earth.
Deep blue-green seas.
"Claire," the way he utter her name was like poetry to her ears, he only had to say her name and she would melt there and then, "That's in the past, I'm here now with you."
She laughed bitterly. She hated herself. But more to the point of disgust. Especially for making herself go through this unnecessary pain and anguish.
"It's never in the 'past' Steve!" she sobbed, "You're dead damnit. I can't accept that! I'll never get over you. The only way would be to die," she laughed slightly staring down the stairway, "I'll never have peace without you. Because I love you so much that it kills me!"
He moved up to her trying to get as close as possible, "Claire please!" he begged, "Don't do anything stupid, please."
She turned to him and reached out her hand. He took it and caressed it. His hand was silky soft and warm. She smiled, "I never do."
Something sharp pierced her, a needle of some sort. She looked up at Steve with worried eyes. Her body felt light and she didn't know if she was standing or lying. His arms encased her fragile body protecting her from the harsh world. He smiled down; pushing strands of her brown hair away from her face. He cradled her close, rocking her body gently. She kept staring into those green-blue eyes of his. He leant down and kissed her forehead delicately. Claire closed her eyes, huddling into his everlasting warmth. She was falling asleep in his arms.
But it was as if she was dying in them as he did in hers.
She knew she was still asleep, well half. She knew that she had to wake up before seeing his death all over again. It was hard enough seeing him lose all faith in his self and fall into despair. It was hard enough seeing Alexia force Steve in becoming the beast.
No, she didn't want to see Steve suffer the way he did, as she stood hopeless to help him. She didn't want to see him cry out to her for help when she couldn't give it to him as she did before. She didn't want to see him scream as the pain of his transformation cut him through and through like he was butter.
Something was preventing her to wake; something manmade was forbidding her to escape from the torment.
She had to open her eyes now!
A bright white light shone down on her, she frowned and re-closed her eyes averting from the light. Someone was with her, his or her faint voice sounded from below her. She couldn't put her finger as to what gender was the voice. Then she realised that she wasn't standing, but lying down.
Claire took a deep breath and opened her eyes again, slightly. She peered through her eyelashes at the strange voice.
"Where was she picked up?"
"Lowland Street," the person sighed, "She was in an accident and she has grazes on her right arm and leg. And a nasty bruise on her face. The police found a motorbike two streets away. They think it's hers."
"And they think she walked away from the wreckage?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't explain her outburst."
"Outburst?"
"Didn't the attending paramedics tell you? Anyway, witnesses saw her screaming about how a 'tyrant' was coming to get her. She then pulled out a knife. She had four of these and she was about to strike. Luckily a member of the public took her down."
The other person flipped through something, it sounded like paper, "She has a history of psychiatric problems as early as a child. We best keep an eye on her she's suicidal."
"Would you be prescribing anything?"
"For the time being we'll keep her sedated, we need to contact any relatives."
"The only relative she has is a brother. He has already-"
"Where I'm I?" Claire said. She opened her eyes fully; two people were with her, a man and a woman. They were both dressed in white, the room was white. She tried to sit up, but something kept her down.
"Hey what's going on?" she panicked.
The woman walked up to her, "its ok Claire you're safe, the 'tyrant' isn't going to get you."
"What? What tyrant? What's going on?" her heart quickened she didn't like this. This wasn't right. The events the night before were still obscure.
Then it clicked to her. Umbrella, they had to be behind this.
She tugged at the restraints; she didn't notice them before until now.
She jerked desperately to get out of them, "Help," she yelled.
The woman glanced at the man; he moved to the door and vanished, "Claire its ok, there's nothing to be afraid of."
Claire narrowed her eyes, "Fuck you! I know how Umbrella works!"
She yanked at the Velcro restraints. It was working! The material was separating. The woman ran to Claire's nearly freed arm. Claire grabbed the woman hard and pulled forcing her entire wrist out of the strap.
The woman glared in fright, "Security!" she screamed.
She tried straining at Claire's grip, but Claire wasn't about to let go. She finally did let go pulling the Velcro strap from her other arm and legs. She got up, only to have the woman block her path to freedom, "Get out of my way," Claire demanded.
The woman wasn't listening or she didn't care. Claire had enough; she didn't know where she was or what happened to her. All she wanted was to go home. She only wanted to see Chris and Leon, but the woman wasn't having that.
She grabbed her arm; Claire struggled and pushed her back. The woman fell to the floor hitting her head on the wall. Claire knelt down and checked her vitals; there was a strong pulse within her neck. She would be fine, just a little pissed.
Claire stood up fast and moved to the door swiftly, she glanced through the window if anyone was outside.
No one.
She opened up the door and stepped through; the hall was long and seemed to go on forever. Her feet were bare and the floor was too cold for her liking. If she walked to her left, which only led to a window, she would be trapped. And she didn't think she was on the ground floor so she opted for the right. She moved on and walked silently to the end of the hall towards a stairway.
"There she goes!" called a voice behind her; she glanced back only to be confronted by three huge men in white. They began running towards her. Claire headed down the stairs, her only thought was to get away from them first and then find a way out.
But that was beginning to look impossible, voices; several voices weren't only coming from behind her but from below her. They were getting louder and louder as they climbed the stairs.
"Fuck!" she muttered. She hated this, now where could she go?
Over the banister?
No, she couldn't, the drop was too faraway. She would surly die! But what else could she do? Go back to Umbrella peacefully and let them perform perverted and very excruciating experiments on her?
No! Of course not!
She stepped towards the edge of the banister and grabbed the wooden frame. Her white gown fluttered, the air rising up from the bottom of the stairway was cold. She shivered, not only from the cool air, but because she was scared. Cold sweat trailed down her face, she wiped her forehead.
She wasn't sure if she could do this.
"Claire," called a voice, "Get away from the railing."
She glanced from her left to her right. There were at least five people on either side of her, "No," she whispered, "I'm not dying like that."
One person moved nearer, Claire shifted closer to the railing and leant forward, "Don't think about it!" she gasped, "I know what you're doing!"
The man knelt down, "Claire do you want to do this?"
She turned to him; tears ran down her cheeks, "Steve?" she sniffed, "Is that you?"
He smiled his beautiful smile. It only broke her heart more, "Yes my angel it is."
Claire burst into tears, "I dreamt about you," she breathed, "You were lonely and sad. I hate seeing you like that."
His red hair fell gently across his forehead, the red of his hair shimmered slightly against the light. It looked like metallic blood. His eyes mirrored the deep oceans of Earth.
Deep blue-green seas.
"Claire," the way he utter her name was like poetry to her ears, he only had to say her name and she would melt there and then, "That's in the past, I'm here now with you."
She laughed bitterly. She hated herself. But more to the point of disgust. Especially for making herself go through this unnecessary pain and anguish.
"It's never in the 'past' Steve!" she sobbed, "You're dead damnit. I can't accept that! I'll never get over you. The only way would be to die," she laughed slightly staring down the stairway, "I'll never have peace without you. Because I love you so much that it kills me!"
He moved up to her trying to get as close as possible, "Claire please!" he begged, "Don't do anything stupid, please."
She turned to him and reached out her hand. He took it and caressed it. His hand was silky soft and warm. She smiled, "I never do."
Something sharp pierced her, a needle of some sort. She looked up at Steve with worried eyes. Her body felt light and she didn't know if she was standing or lying. His arms encased her fragile body protecting her from the harsh world. He smiled down; pushing strands of her brown hair away from her face. He cradled her close, rocking her body gently. She kept staring into those green-blue eyes of his. He leant down and kissed her forehead delicately. Claire closed her eyes, huddling into his everlasting warmth. She was falling asleep in his arms.
But it was as if she was dying in them as he did in hers.