Far From Normal

by The messed up writer

My life was nothing but systematic torture for the longest time, the hellish abuse cliche we've all heard. But my bit takes place after it all, after that victory and defeat years ago. It was only time until I'd have to help someone else get theirs, even an alien. Time to pick up the gun and raise hell again. Rated M for language, gore, non-con/rape, and much more. Slow-burn M/M.

7. Chapter 7: I Can't Live Here Anymore

Chapter 7: I Can't Live Here Anymore

People are hard to trust, hard to believe. Everyone has some facade they hide behind, and though you may trust and like that facade, you probably know next to nothing about their true personality. Everyone creates their own mask to hide behind - I'm guilty of it, and so are you.

Of course, I wasn't born with this knowledge. Well, not all of it.

I had my mask, and it was pretty intricate in design too. Lots of time had been spent creating it, and new additions were always present to cover my real colors - black 'n' blue.

But her mask… It was beautiful. She was beautiful. And the day I was asked out by her was the greatest thing in the world. I suppose I could be seen as a coward for not taking the initiative and having the courage to ask her myself, but God knows what Frank might've done with that. I don't think it really mattered how it started though, it just felt like less of a risk with her starting it first.

Good God, how could I be more wrong?

It was the end of the year then, and we went to go see Raiders of the Lost Ark. We were both thirteen. She had to buy the tickets, and I could barely afford popcorn, which I gave to her as some form of payment. I didn't mind, I hated popcorn. She looked somewhere between disappointed and annoyed when she learned of the money problem, but she never brought it up.

We must've had a few more outings like that, with her, of course, paying for a good chunk of them, I mean. She kissed me on the third date, something that should've grabbed my suspicion much earlier. She got a little feely when she did, reaching under my shirt before immediately pulling away. Before I even had a chance to ask what was wrong, she had yanked my shirt above my face, and by the time I had it back down, her face was something of horror.

"Is that… Frank?" She asked. I could only nod, though it was barely noticeable. "Jesus, he does that to you?"

"I'm begging you - no one can know this. He'll probably kill me if this gets out." She looked surprised.

"What? I… You need to tell someone about this! Get some goddamn help or something!" She said. "Hell, I'll tell someone for yo-"

"No!" I interjected. "I mean it! You don't know what he can do…"

"I'm not scared of him."

"It's not you I'm worrying about here. I'm the one who's gonna get shit if this gets out, not you. Seriously, don't worry about this."

She sighed, looking around for a few seconds before looking back at me. She had a guilty look on her face, and I would've never guessed what she was going to say next. "Alex, me being with you has been part of a bet. The goal was to be with you for a few months and I'd get some money. Nothing about any of this has been in the slightest part meaningful, but that doesn't mean I'm some completely heartless cunt. I'll tell everyone if it gives you some shot of safety."

"What?! Did you not hear a thing I just said?!" To say I was baffled by her reasoning was a huge understatement, and I could only chalk up her decision to 'not ever have been in a situation such as mine'. I felt like crying. She didn't say a word back, rather just walking away. It wasn't until a few moments passed that I realized what I had just heard her say, and I couldn't help but feel hopeless at my situation. She was done with me - though it never really started, either. And I was probably gonna die the next day.

As the next day rolled around, I was walking to my locker when I felt arms grab me from the back. I was twisted around and pinned against the lockers as someone grabbed a pair of scissors out of their pocket, slicing down my shirt and ripping it open. People who came around expecting some fight were rather horrified and surprised as they saw the deep scars and bandages surrounding my body. I already knew who got these guys to do this.

"No one can say a thing about this to Frank," I begged.

"Run away!" One said.

"Fight him!" Said another.

"Call the-" Everyone glared at the one kid who said this, before he finished, "Right, stupid idea.." Everyone knew just about all the cops were dirty and under Frank's control.

"It ain't that easy, you all know that! You can't let him find out about this - none of you are supposed to know this!" But nothing would stop the gossiping of hundreds of teens, and the confrontation between me and the school largely didn't matter afterwards.

When I came home early to get a new shirt and stayed there, Frank noticed immediately.

"Boy, where's your shirt?" He said, before the realization hit him like a truck that the secret of the torture and atrocities committed on my body had been revealed. "How many?"

"They just came up and sliced it off me!" I explained. "Please don-"

"HOW MANY?!" He roared, spraying the words on my face more than saying it.

"...The entire school." His face made no change, except for the slight twitch in his right eyelid which was more terrifying than anything that he could've done then. He got up from the chair he sat in.

"Go to the garage." He said. I did, happy that we weren't going to that damned secluded cabin again.

Inside was no vehicle, but rather a table and a two chairs, which had dried blood stains on them. I sat down. Something around two minutes passed, until he came back, holding a set of bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and a large hunting knife, which was sharpened to a razor's edge and serrated along the entire length of the blade. He set them all out neatly on the table.

"Grab the knife."

I did.

"Place your arm on the table."

I did.

"Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna drive that blade right there through your arm until it sticks out the other end. I'll give you a minute starting twelve seconds ago." My heart beat fast, and as I lifted the blade above my arm and pressed the tip into it, I watched my blood begin to well and run down my arm onto the table. I barely felt the puncture, the blade sharper than a razor. I thought about how sick I was of seeing that shade of red all the time. I thought about what that one kid said about fighting back. I don't know what spurred me on that day, but I took the blade away from my arm and stabbed it into the table.

"No," I said.

"I'm sorry," He said, "What was that?"

"No."

"You misunderstood me, boy. Drive it through your arm like a FUCKING shishkebab in twenty seconds or so help me God I'll do it. And lemme tell ya, I ain't gonna do it fast."

"NO!" I yelled. He stared at me, before reaching for the blade. I was faster though, and managed to grab it and point it at him.

"No." Barely a whisper this time. He stood up, as did I. He looked like he wanted to do something, to attack, but instead, he turned around and walked out to the living room, closing the door behind with a click! I just stood there, not quite realizing what had happened until I heard his truck start up and drive away.

Sweet mother of God, what have I done? I was locked in, since the garage door was actually chained and locked down from the outside.

An hour passed by, and all I could do was shiver and pace around. I still had no shirt. I considered driving the blade through my arm like he asked, maybe even both if I could manage it as a form of regret or something.

But it was as I was working up the balls to do it that I heard the truck approach the house. When the engine was killed however, there was no silence.

There was barking.

He brought dogs?! He's gonna kill me this time. He's actually gonna do it…

As I heard his door slam shut, I was brought back out of my thoughts.

Don't just stand there - Do something!

I knocked over the table, giving me some cover towards the garage door. I heard him start unlocking and pulling the chain out.

Dogs. I've never fought dogs. How the hell is this gonna work?

The door was lifted up, opening immediately and slamming stop at the top. Outside was Frank, blood covering a good portion of his upper body - and likely not his - with two german shepherds on leashes side-by-side with him. I ducked back down, though I don't know what good it'd do me…

"You got five seconds. Better start runnin'!" He yelled.

I couldn't've gotten up faster. I jumped over the table, knife in hand, and started booking it past him towards the woods. Once I was outside, his 'four' jumped straight to 'one', and then I heard running and even more barking. My heart was beating a million times a minute, my legs carrying me faster than I thought they could.

I wasn't surprised he let them go early, though, because this wasn't about escaping the canines. This was about splitting the pair apart. If I could get something between me and them, somewhere open and not so damn claustrophobic, I could get some plan formed on taking them out.

I weaved in and out of trees, twisting my path somewhat in a desperate attempt to gain some ground. As I went around a tree, I failed to remember the blade in my right hand, which smashed into to the tree and dislodged the thing from my grip. I didn't even think about going back for it, considering how close I could hear them. I risked a glance behind me, horrified to see that they were less than five feet away and quickly closing in. A tree up ahead had a large fork in it, splitting it two ways and giving enough room for me to jump through it.

As I clambered through it, grabbing onto the two halves of the fork to get through, I was ripped back by my right arm as a pair of jaws clamped down on it. I held onto the tree with my left, digging my fingers in as best as I could while the dog thrashed his head left and right rapidly to my arm. I felt it finally come out the socket, a pop accompanying the pain and lack of control. A steady stream of blood was going down my arm, the bite being more in the middle of my forearm.

It was at this time that the other dog had gone around the tree was making a run straight towards my back. I couldn't turn around due to my arm being pinned, so in a last ditch effort to keep myself from being mauled, I dove back through the tree and crashed into the one that had my arm. As I did, I swung my left as best as I could in that awkward state, hitting him in the nose. That combined with my sudden advance was enough to get him to let go and back away for a moment. I dug into my pocket and pulled out a pencil as I backed up against the tree, figuring some weapon was better than none. The bark scraped my back, but I paid it no mind.

As the dog from before came back around the tree once more, the one in front began its charge. I reared back and kicked as hard as I could with my right foot, clocking the dog in the side of the head and knocking his body down. It rolled away before getting back up, though seeming dazed somewhat. During this, the other one, now on my left side, launched itself at me. I twisted my body around and swung my legs to the left up and over the dog as it made an attempt to bite my face or throat. I pressed all my weight down on it and locked my legs as best as I could, raising the pencil up and down into his eye. I forced it in as hard and far as I could, the dog giving a yelp as I felt the other jump on my back. It bit into the back of my shoulder, barely missing the back of my neck as it dug its claws in. I released my grip on the one below me, jumping up and backwards to land on the one behind me, bringing the red and white-ish pencil to my side and jabbing it hard and fast into the dog's side.

The other dog was watching from afar, whimpering a most God-awful noise that almost broke my heart. The jabs were doing nothing but making the dog beneath me growl and bite harder, prompting me to roll over, force my legs to stand up, and back into the nearest tree as hard as I could. The teeth dug in even further, but as I did this twice more, I felt the dog stop biting me and drop back to the ground. It attempted to bite my leg, but I managed to get a good kick into his side before he could. He yelped, but before he could think about making another advance, I was back up to him and kicking again. It wasn't until my fifth or sixth that I stopped, backing away and up against a tree. Neither of the dogs were doing much of anything now but whimpering, before one started to run back towards Frank. The other, not wanting to be alone with me any longer, followed behind the first. I sighed, feeling pain in many various appendages and my soul.

I started walking back towards the house, slowly and dreadfully. It was before I was even close to it that a sudden blow struck me in the back of the head. I fell to the ground and blacked out.

When I awoke, I was being dragged down a set of stairs by my feet. My head smashed into each step until we reached the bottom, where I was flung like a ragdoll inside without a word from my assailant. As I stood up, taking note of my now working arm, I looked back towards the door, seeing Frank grin something sinister before slamming the door.

---

Technically, we didn't see a sunrise, thanks to the surrounding buildings and crappy weather. But it was around that time when it was safe enough to leave. We laid there all night in that makeshift bed, neither of us getting any sleep. At some point, I had removed the tail-and-blade from my belt and set it behind the driver's seat. I looked at my watch, reading 5:48. I sat up.

"Are you okay?" I asked Xerxes.

"Are you?"

My mind flashed back to the bodies that were ripped to shreds, the stench of copper and acid, and the near overwhelming feeling of doom and demise.

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Right, stupid question." I climbed up to the front seat and turned the ignition, the truck humming to life.

"How's your shoulder?" He asked.

"I swear to God, you better give me a warning next time. That sucked." I pulled out of the alleyway, heading back home while doing my best to avoid the few patrol cars still around.

"I was pissed at you. I didn't want us to die because you went there - That happening terrified me."

"...I know. I should never've gone…" Silence surrounded us afterwards.

That is, until the sirens and flashing lights appeared behind us. I looked in the mirror, spotting the car as it drove my way. I thought about running, but that get 'em all after me then. I kept my cool, finding an empty parking lot where I pulled in.

"What's going on?" Xerxes asked. I turned towards him and waved him to get down.

"Get down! We got pulled over. Just keep down from the windows as best you can."

The cop pulled in behind me, before getting out with a flashlight and his hand on his holster. There were a few other things he had, such as a taser-gun on his left side, cuffs, mace, etcetera etcetera.

I rolled down my window as he came up. "Do you know why I pulled you over, son?" He said, shining the light directly in my eyes.

"You tell me, officer."

"Don't get smart with me." He shined the light inside, searching. "You got anyone else with you?" I shook my head, though it didn't matter when he shined it in the back, his face scrunching up in terror.

"Jesus Christ, it's one of those?!" He raised his gun up towards me, then the back-side window as he backed up. But before he ever even had the chance to actually aim, his left hand betrayed him and grabbed his taser, before shooting himself in the neck with it. He dropped the gun in his right, falling to the ground as his twitchy fingers held the trigger.

I got out, mindlessly wiping away my bloody nose as I slowly approached. He was still pulling the trigger, until I kicked his hand away. His only movements were sporadic twitches.

I opened his door, slowly carrying him back into his car and killing the engine. I grabbed his taser, wiping it down as best as I could with my shirt before awkwardly slipping it back into his holster. I thought about taking it or his gun, but figured I shouldn't test my luck. I closed the door, wiping down the handle before getting back in the truck. I sighed, put my belt back on, and started driving.

"So, he knew about ya - Hell, all the cops probably do now. Hopefully that won't bite us in that ass, too…"

"What's the plan?" He asked moments later.

"We go back to the house, pack up, and wait until one. I trust you know what we're doing then, you eavesdropper."

"Heh… Yeah, I do."

---

The drive lasted forever.

We laid there all night, listening in fear and sadness for the police.

How many bodies were there? A dozen? A couple dozen?

Not just human, but my kind too. How many have I killed?

Too many.

Alex blames himself, which I hate. This is more my fault than anything, considering that I was catalyst that made them hunt him.

And then there's Lawrence who now has to live with those sights and memories now. That is, if he did survive.

He did. He was a fighter, reminded me a bit of Alex. Like he's been through his own Hell, too. He couldn't have died, he just couldn't…

Alex is strong, and I'll help him get past this.

I just hope I can get past this.

---

As we came up to the house, it became apparent that mom wasn't there at all, her car still missing since yesterday. Not that I was surprised - in fact, I expected her to be gone. Maybe we should be quick about this. I mean, I barely have anything to pack, but maybe it'd be best for us to leave without her knowing.

Not like she deserves a goodbye anyways, I thought. I sighed.

I opened the garage door with the press of a button, backed in, and closed it behind us. Xerxes climbed out the back as I walked around to the door to the living room.

What followed next was the lengthy process of carrying my stuff out to the truck. The T.V. was coming with no matter what - that thing was not cheap. I emptied out my backpack in my room and stuffed three sets of clothing and socks, as well as an extra coat in it. I tossed my pillow in as well. I stole a few soda and food cans, as well as a can opener, and tossed them in the back, giving us a few days of free food. I emptied the box of my old assignments, packing it full of the comics I had and stuffing it in the back. I did a careful search about the house, grabbing my stashed pocket knives (including the one I left open in the bathroom) and tossed them in the truck as well. A quick count showed twelve of them. Finally, I grabbed the gun and ammo, thought about putting it away in the truck, before jamming the gun in my waistband and the ammo in my pants pockets. The moon-clips put large, noticeable lumps along my leg.

A solid hour later, everything but one thing had been packed. As I walked back from the garage to my room, I knelt down beside my dresser where the T.V. was, pushing it to the side a little too hard and losing it, the entire thing tipping over and crashing down. I paid it no mind, reaching into the hole in the wall and placing a small amount of dead presidents into my wallet, which equated to about a quarter of the stash. The rest of it was divided up and stored in my socks.

Xerxes came down the hall as I closed the door behind me. "What was that?" He asked.

"The sound of good ol' American tender." He said nothing, still looking at me. "Money. I emptied out my stash, so we should be okay for a little while." I walked past him.

"The one in the wall?" I stopped and spun around, talking the second he said that.

"Good God, you been snooping in my room, too? You didn't take any, did ya?" He shook his head grinning.

"Yeah, Alex, because I wanted to go buy another pizza."

"Smartass," I said as we made our way to the living room.

"How much is it?" I landed on the couch as he sat down, grabbing the T.V. remote and turning it on. David Hasselhoff appeared, driving a familiar black Trans AM.

"Honestly? I don't exactly remember. It'll be enough though, that much I know."

"And where are we going?" He asked.

"Dunno yet. All depends on what happens at one." We said nothing for a moment, before I stood up and said, "Okay, I'm gonna take an actual shower this time. If you want to change it to something else or make it louder," I handed him the remote and pointed to the buttons, "Press these. You'll figure it out."

Ten seconds later, I was back in my room, lifting my dresser back up on its side and grabbing underwear and gray socks. A pair of blue jeans, a red long-sleeved shirt that had a camouflage style, and a thick, but not heavy, black cotton coat came from the closet.

As I closed the door behind me, I remembered the last time I was in here. I shuddered slightly, before shutting the memory out. That sucked then, it still sucks now. I undressed, looking at the lines across my body and the familiar sight of bandages wrapped around me. I sighed, cutting them all off with my pocket knife.

I saw my collection of cuts, all of which had a black, powder stuff around them - like charcoal. The cuts themselves were already almost gone, but it was still visibly red and tender around them. I didn't bother re-wrapping any of them aside from my hand, since it was still looking and feeling pretty nasty.

I climbed in the shower, turned the hot water to the max, and sat down, letting the scolding water hit my back. Well, in reality it just felt warm, though I'm willing to bet it would burn any normal human. Feeling exhausted, I leaned against the wall and assured myself that I was merely resting my eyes.

I couldn't get my mind off of yesterday; Jackson's, Lawrence's… Are our lives really worth more than everyone else's?

…It terrifies me how easily the answer comes to me. Of course they are. Nobody deserves to live more than us - We've fought too hard to die now. The thought sickened me, but I refused to deny it. It's too late for them, but we can NOT let their sacrifices be in vain.

God, how's Xerxes holding up? He doesn't seem to be doing all that bad, but what do I know? He could be torn up inside, or maybe he's not. I'll have to talk to him later.

And then there's that fucking cop from earlier. Gotta hope he doesn't remember anything or something. Maybe I should've seen if I could just erase it. I'm capable of all those other things, maybe I can do that too.

A few moments passed by as I felt the water pelt me, my mind not really focusing on anything, that is, until…

Next thing I knew, I was thinking about me and X, going at it. Admittedly, I've never had sex, not even with Tony. We should've died so many times in the short time we've known each other, and with me about to go back to Jackson's, well… Maybe death'll threaten me, maybe he won't. Either way, this will likely mark the last set of freetime before we either leave this town or leave this life. I really don't fancy the idea of dying a virgin. Yeah, I'll definitely have to talk to him.

At some point, my eyes had opened. I guess I turned around, too, as the water was hitting my front and I could see the drain. Something was off, however, as I couldn't hear the water anymore - even though I could see it hitting the tub and myself. I was confused at my deafness, until I started to hear some sort of groaning, as if it was coming from the drain. I looked at it, wondering what the hell I was hearing until a black mass started to bubble up from it. It was coming up at a slow, but steady pace, and it wasn't before long that it had started crawling up my leg.

I made an attempt to yell, but my voice was gone. It burned as it crawled up my thigh, up my torso, and eventually, over my entire body. Everything was on fire, and it didn't end until it had covered every last bit of light I could see, surrounding me in darkness.

I gasped awake, my eyes shooting open as I looked around frantically. I was still in the tub, my body untouched and the sound having returned. I swiveled around, looking at the drain and seeing nothing out of the ordinary before getting the courage to get close enough and place the plug on it.

Fucking nightmares, I thought. I heard the door open and immediately stood up, even though I couldn't see Xerxes and he couldn't see me due to the curtain.

"You okay? Your fear, I could sense it," He said.

"I… yeah, I'm alright. Had a bad dream, 's'all."

"Why are you sleeping in there?" I said nothing. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, no, I'll be fine." There was a brief pause. "I really do love you, Xerxes and… I'm sorry I put us through hell like that earlier, that was so fucking stupid and selfish of me. I… I got a lot of people pointlessly killed and…" I was about to continue, until he decided that he too wanted in the small tub. We were both hardly a foot and a half apart.

"Woah, what're you doing?" He ignored me, getting closer and hugging me. "Hey, man, there's a time and a place."

"Shut up," He said. "I love you, too. You swear we won't do any more stuff like yesterday?"

"Not intentionally, at least," I said. "Yeah, I swear." He let go of the hug, giving a nod before making an attempt to leave. However, I grabbed him by the arm gently, pulling him back in.

"Look, confidence and unbacked sureness of our survival tonight aside, we need to acknowledge the fact that this night may be our last. I think that we should - and only if you're okay with it - ...do a little more than kissing, if you catch my drift."

"Oh yeah?" He said with a sly, bordering on mocking tone.

"Yeah. We can go at your pace, so you don't lose control or anything. But I… I would like it if we could…?" I trailed off. "Like I said, only if you want-" He placed a finger on my lips - much more coordinated than when Jane did it - effectively shutting me up.

I think it's safe to say, we were pretty audible throughout the house.

---

We sat on the couch, both of us under a blanket and watching Gunsmoke. Xerxes held me close from behind, pressing up against me. His leg was hooked over mine.

"Alex… You're shivering. This isn't getting better," He said.

"I'm fine. It'll get better, just give it time."

"What if it doesn't?"

I hesitated. "I'll ask someone when we go later, though I doubt they'll have answer."

"What about a healer?"

"Like a doctor? They'd probably have some questions as to why I'm freezing in sixty degree weather, questions I would have no answers to." I paused. "It has to get better."

Xerxes didn't reply.

Doc Adams started talking to someone, though I couldn't catch their name as the signal started to buzz in and out.

"How much longer do we have?" I reached out from under the blanket towards the coffee table, grabbing my watching and turning it on.

"Little under an hour." I rushed back under the covers. "We still got time." I planned to make this time last as long as it could. Calmness like this was deserved, and I refused to pass it up.

It only lasted for another seven minutes.

"You hear that?" Xerxes asked.

I muted the T.V. and listened, not catching on until I could just barely hear it in the distance.

"That's that lady, isn't it?"

"Shit, yeah. My ma." I swiveled around and sat up. "Get in the truck and hide. I'm gonna stay behind - tell her I'm leaving."

"Are you sure? Shouldn't we go before she finds out?" I shook my head.

"She ain't no saint, but she deserves to know that I'm not dead in some ditch I suppose." I unmuted and turned off the T.V., placing the blanket back on the back of the couch exactly as it was earlier. He didn't move. "This isn't me doing something stupid, trust me. Go!" He did.

I snatched my watch, running to my room before doubling back to the bathroom, grabbing my clothes that were still there and only then getting to my room. I closed the door as I heard the car pull up.

As I pulled my shirt over, tripped while putting my pants on, and secured my watch to my arm, I could hear the front door open. I slipped my coat on as I heard this, immediately regretting my idea considering how spaced she probably was. The window was a very appealing escape at the moment. I shook the idea away, swallowed my pride, and reached for the door. I took one last look at my room, before closing the door behind me. This place was nothing but a bed for nightmares and trauma that I needed to forget. I hoped the next place would be better.

Of course it would be better. Now I had Xerxes with me.

I walked down the hall, spotting Cassandra and someone else sitting where Xerxes and I sat earlier. The guy looked like a twig, marks so visible on his arms that you'd swear he wore them with pride. She was looking a little shaky, sort of tilting back and forth, side-to-side. Though she was still conscious enough to realize I was here, visibly jumping when she glanced in my direction.

"Alex? Kid, why ain't you at school?" She asked.

"Don't worry, I was just leaving." I struggled to find a way to say it, until she continued.

"Where to?"

"None of your concern."

"Hardly a way ta talk to ya momma," The guy said.

"Hardly a way to live as a grown-ass man, druggie."

"Hey, man! I've been trying-!" She gave me a dirty look as she hushed him up, calming him down somewhat.

"...You are coming back, right?" A small grin or a sad smile - I'm not sure which - crept across my face as I looked down, shaking my head.

"I can't live here anymore. This place is nothing but a bad memory to me, and I don't think I can take another minute staying."

"Where the hell do you plan on going? And what about your school?"

"Dropped out and don't know," I replied, walking up the window behind the T.V. and seeing her car blocking the garage. "Can ya move your car?" She stood up and walked to me.

"Dropped out? Kid, what're you doing?"

"Honestly, I haven't a fuckin' clue. I know it's what I have to do though if I want a snowball's chance at happiness."

"What? You are happy here."

"Move your car."

"Alex, you ain't leaving."

"Move your car," I repeated.

"Alex, I-"

"PLEASE!" I shouted, before quieting down. "Please, move your car." She shook her head, less in disagreement and more in disappointment.

"Don't do this." I sighed.

"I'll move it." I walked to the garage room door. "Have a good life… Mom." And the door was shut behind me. She never opened the door, or came after me. I pressed the button to open the garage door, walking under it as it still opened and into the downpour.

I walked to her car and tried opening the door only to find it locked. I picked it, swinging the door open before reaching in and putting it in neutral. I angled the steering wheel and walked to the front of it where I started pushing. I heaved and groaned, but within a minute, the car was backed up enough to allow me to leave. I got in the truck, and before I was able to start it, I heard the door to the living room open. I turned, half expecting to see her come out, but being greeted with the guy's presence.

"Ya really got her all kinds of torn up, kid." I started it up and put it in drive.

"Not enough to get her to tell me herself," I said, and started driving. I got outside the garage, where I pressed the garage button on the remote before tossing it outside as far as I could, the thing landing somewhere in the woods. I went down the drive, not once looking back or thinking about it. I cranked the heat up. Xerxes came up from behind, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"You okay, Alex?" He asked.

"...I'll tell you when we leave."

---

Another dark, back alley later, I put the truck in park and turned it off.

"Okay, this should be a quick in-and-out type of thing. We shouldn't be more than an hour at the most."

"This sounds familiar," He quipped.

"Ye of little faith! There's no room for my dumbass to lose track of time this time 'round. Like I said, just an hour."

"C'mon, we can leave right now. You just have to start the truck and drive, and we can do whatever we want." I shook my head.

"It's not that easy. They'll come after us if we do. I just have to do this one thing, end things on good terms, and we can leave."

"We'll fight if they come."

"No," I said firmly, "We won't. They brought me in when no-one else would and were all but family to Tony, and I could never betray his memory like that."

"Guy on the phone sure seemed dead set on labeling you as a traitor."

"He ain't never trusted me. Fuck him."

"...Please, Alex."

"...If I'm not back in an hour," I grabbed his hand and forced the keys into it, "Go. Do not, no matter what, stay or look for me. Wait until dark, and drive the hell outta here. Ditch the truck after a while, and run as far as you can from here. You can make it, I know you can."

"Except you're coming back, and I'll drag you from Hell if I have to. Actually, no, what am I saying? We're leaving, now," He said.

I got close to his face. "Stop me," I growled. He backed up slightly, taken aback by what I said. I opened the door. "I'm going. I will be back. I love you." I closed the door behind me.

"Alex…" He said, barely over a whisper. I said nothing, walking away while rain water built up around my eyes.

I wanted to say, "I'm sorry, Xerxes, we can go." Something like that, at least. But that just can't happen, not until this is finished.

An uneventful, three block walk later, I was standing in front of a large office building, the bottom of which has been refitted for a mechanic's shop. It is certainly not the type of building one would expect for a mechanic, but its large size has allowed for many vehicles and workers to be present at once. A small office was in the back.

There was another two floors on top of that, providing storage for various car parts, some beds for a safehouse, and a small armory - mostly consisting of a few small pistols and a shotgun last I checked. Going upstairs was impossible, unless you had the key to the doors in the stairwell.

In the back of the shop itself was a small garage, which held a few cars and vans which would be used when we leave later. The garage itself leads into a back alley, with the garage door painted to match the wall it was in by some really good painter. It does the trick, too, since it's nearly impossible to see it.

I headed for the office inside. When I opened the door, I saw Devin sitting at an office table. He's like the middle man between Jackson and the boss, though Jackson and I were still to report to him every now and then.

"Alex, you're early. Early is good." He motioned for me to come. "Sit down." I did.

"Y'know, y'all are kinda hampering my efforts of learning." He snorted.

"Kid, don't play that shit with us, you should know that by now."

"Just making sure you're keeping tabs on me." They probably knew about Xerxes, but if they ain't mentioning anything, it doesn't matter.

"You know what to do, right?"

"Of course."

"And you're armed?"

"C'mon, we both know the answer to that. Any seventeen year-old doing the dirty work for their employer would be."

"Right, right." He leaned forward, looking at me funny. "Kid, you okay? You're shivering and it's gotta be seventy-nine in here." I shrugged.

"Can't keep warm. Don't know why," I breathed out.

"You gonna be able to do your job?"

"We're gonna find out…" I looked down at my shoes, before remembering something and looking back up quickly. "Hey, I need you to set up a meeting with the boss after this for when we come back."

"Awfully short notice."

"I gotta quit and leave town. Tonight."

"You got people after you?"

"I got a whole motherfucking species after me." He snorted again.

"I'm not sure I quite follow, kid."

"...Can I talk to you? Like, off the record?"

"Whatever you say, I ain't gonna rat you out. So long as you ain't bringin' the hammer down on us."

"No, never," I said. I racked my brain for some words in some order to say what I meant to him. "You hear about that massacre that happened at that party last night?"

"Of course, it's all over the news. What about it?"

"..." Words, goddammit, come to me! But he already knew.

"Wait, you were there?" I hesitantly nodded. "Good lord, kid, you alright?" I looked down at my shoes again.

"I don't know, man. I've never seen that much blood. Hell, I don't think anyone here would've ever seen that much blood in their life." My mind was flashing back to then, and I forced my mind to think of something else. Xerxes was the first thing, and it brought some semblance of calmness. "But the creatures there… Those are why I'm quitting."

"Creatures? Back up, what creatures?"

"Now don't you play that shit with me. The cops've gotta know about it, and by default, you should too!"

"I…!" He drifted off, looked around real quick, before getting up and quickly shutting the blinds to all the windows, including the glass door, which he locked. He sat back down.

"How much do you know about them?" I said.

"Black as night, quick as hell, tough as shit… Missing anything?"

"They hate fire and they've got acid for blood." I pulled the shirt on my right shoulder down. "Could've been worse, I suppose. Still hurt like hell."

"That the party or Jackson's?"

"...Jackson's…" I lied, "You do know that they're probably what killed the last guys you sent in, right?" He sighed.

"Wouldn't be surprised. And the fact you got one to bleed is a step up from most of our guys."

"...How long have you known about them?"

"Little less than a month."

"And you didn't think about warning us?!" I said. "Jesus, maybe Jackson didn't have to be gutted like that then!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"Why does nobody know?!" I whisper-yelled.

"Oh, hey, Dan, don't forget to look out for those fuckin' aliens runnin' about. They'll ruin your day right bad, yes they will," He mocked. "They haven't killed our own until yesterday, everything else is maulings and missing persons cases that were well covered up."

"How in the Hell do you cover that up?" He shrugged.

"Couldn't tell ya. We had an insider in the police station, guy who filed reports in on evidence and such. Well, he had access to some case files, and there was a code that appeared in almost all of the homicide cases popping up near the edges of town."

"What was it?"

"XX121." I looked at him funny. "Yeah, we got a hunch that its some third party or benefactor or something paying the police some good money, sorta like what Frank did." I stopped listening, quickly getting lost in my thoughts at hearing his name.

I said, "What does the team think we're about to do?"

"It's a rivalry between gangs, and that this is less about the car and more about a message now." He paused, then added, "But still get the car."

"You still sending me there with this?" I pointed to the handle sticking out from my waistband.

"Fuck no. Come on." He left the office, with me trailing behind.

"Damn, and you were gonna, too." He shook his head, going up a flight of stairs.

"Nah, I knew you knew, just had to make sure." I could feel my stomach steadily drop.

"...How much do you know?"

"Enough to know that this Xerxes guy is something of importance," He said. "Don't take that as a threat, not what I meant. Now, you can't quit, and this isn't gonna be a case where we kill you if you leave. This is because you are something of a prodigy among us."

"What? A prodigy?"

"Kid, you gotta know. Tony said a lotta good about you. Couldn't get him to shut the Hell up about you. Guy had a million and one plans laid out for the perfect opportunity to get you out of Frank's house, most which ended with Frank dead." He sighed. "You were his world, and kid, you're a hard worker here, and that's because you learned from the best. And we can't have you, or Xerxes, leaving."

"I…"

"I know what Xerxes is, and I know what you two are, and I couldn't give less of a shit about that. But here's the thing: I know you and him have to leave town tonight. So here's what's going to happen: You're not quitting, you're being transferred."

"Transferred? Where?"

"We're not sure, but we'll be able to tell you when you get back. But this is how it has to be."

"...He will not work here. Only I work." He nodded.

"Of course, of course," He quickly said, before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a key, and unlocking the gated room to the right. "Grab the shotgun and as many shells as you want." I did, moving the revolver ammo to my right pocket and stuffing my left pocket full until my pants were liable to fall down to my ankles. As I packed it full, I felt other shells already in my left pocket, before realizing they were the shells I took from Law. I smiled at the fact that I unintentionally stole them, though it quickly disappeared when I remembered… well, Law. Devin grabbed my shoulder as I walked out. "Hey, you bring that back when you return, alright? Don't you dare lose that." I nodded.

"Got a death grip from Hell on it."

"Good, keep it that way." Back down the stairs and towards the back garage. "Holds eight shells, twelve gauge. Kicks like a mule, but might be enough." I nodded, loading it as we walked.

"So, who's coming with?" I asked.

"Eh, you won't know any of them. They got experience though, well, most of them."

"Most?"

"You got a rookie with you."

"The fuck," I said.

"Keeps it looking normal; we always send a rookie if we can."

"That… is still fucked no matter how you look at it." He shrugged, and that was that. The last shell was loaded, before I pumped it and listened to satisfying noise.

We finally got to the back after a short minute, and behind a locked door was two small vans, with seven other people standing about. The team.

Eh, they look competent enough. Then again, who the hell's the rookie? They all sort of look rookies… Just one hour, then we're good, right?

It was here that it would collectively begin to go to shit.

---

He's doing something stupid.

He's doing something really stupid and I just can't wrap my mind around it.

I'm still in the truck and I don't know why. I need to go after him, keep him out of trouble and alive. He's being trivial about this. We should've just left when we could've.

So why am I still here? I've followed him before, why not now? This isn't about trust, or respect, or whatever…

I should've stopped him. Pinned him down, made him see reason. Or at least long enough for it to not matter anymore…

I heard footsteps approaching, a giggling noise, before a terrible screeching noise rang out against the truck. I jumped, before darting out the door and catching the noisemaker.

It was the guy that left with that girl, Jane, yesterday at the party. He had a set of keys, similar to the ones I slipped under the seat in the truck, in his hands and aimed at the vehicle. There were large, unsightly marks along the side of it. The guy had a look of pure terror plastered across his face, and a large stain was quickly becoming larger and larger near his groin. A growl built up in my throat before I rushed to him and slammed his head into the side of the truck.

In relatively short time, his knocked out body was glued to the roof of a nearby building, his arms and legs pinned to the ground by copious amounts of resin. He was still out by the time I was done, and likely wouldn't open his eyes until much later with how hard I hit him. The rain was pelting him like crazy, but it did nothing to him. The more I looked at him, the more I realized why I was still here, and I internally slapped myself.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Xerxes. Chase him down before he gets stuck to a wall like him, NOW! I told myself, and I was off that roof before I could decide otherwise.

---

It had to have been twenty minutes, maybe more by the time I got to the place.

It was a massacre.

Trucks and vans were there, most of which were burning. Bodies were strewn about, and I passed by them all to make sure none were Alex. The car that Alex got yesterday was gone, and a large gap was in the garage door behind where it was, as if something broke through it. It wasn't the car though, it was way too big. And metal was pushed inwards, like something broke in, not out.

On the ground was his jacket, lying next to one of the burning hunks of metal, which I slowly picked up. It was smoldering, but not from fire. I dropped it, before looking back at the garage door.

I went in through the gap, carefully avoiding any small flames present. The body of the one I killed was still there, plus a few more here and there, including the body of a Praetorian! I saw a small device on a workbench against the wall. It was the same thing Alex had when I tailed him that first time, but now without the earbuds. But it wasn't that that grabbed my attention, but rather the 'Play me' written on the wall behind it.

With blood.

My heart pounded, and I desperately hoped that Alex was the one who got the car and got out.

My thumb hovered over the small triangle symbol for a small eternity, before I finally allowed myself to press it.

There was a click, and then it played.

---

It's been a rough few hours for Ben.

First, he gets assigned to this stupid fucking job. "Get the car," They said, "Recover any members from the previous team and their weapons if possible, and leave the ones that did this a message."

"Who're the pricks that killed Jack?" He asked.

"Dunno, probably fuckin' Aryans or some biker wannabes. Doesn't matter, just take care of them."

Who the hell was he to questions orders? They weren't paying him to think.

Still sucks though.

And now he's gotta deal with this fucking kid, who's got that fucking shotgun looking like it came fresh from the SWAT armory. Bit overkill for the situation, in't it? And he's shivering when it's gotta be just barely under seventy with the heater on.

They couldn't get to the damn place fast enough.

"Awfully young for a job like this, ain't ya? You know how to even shoot that thing?" Ben asked.

"You know how to even hide your boot knife? Right foot on the outside, prick, I can see the bulge."

He looked down, and sure enough, the strap must've loosened and was now letting the sheath lean against his pant leg. The third guy in the back suppressed a chuckle.

He grumbled while fixing it, mumbling many words that could make anyone blush. Fucking kid.

By the time the anger simmered down to mild dislike, they had arrived. The endless rain battered all eight of them as they filed out of the two vans, four people each. You'd think with an organization as large and done up as theirs that they'd have some outfit they'd all wear, but most of them just wore whatever. Hell, two of them were still in overalls and covered in grime and oil having just come from working on… something.

Ben really didn't give a shit either way.

What he did give a shit about was the fact that there were a lot of cars around, and a lot of bodies around. And the real kicker was: they weren't all human.

Many of them muttered while some others just didn't care for whatever reason. Those others, two to be exact, were the rookie and someone else.

"C'mon kid," The guy said to the rookie, "Simple job for ya: get the car runnin'." The kid nodded furiously, obviously eager to prove his worth, and ran around to the car.

The actual kid, when he saw some of the bodies, mumbled something as well, sounding most like a curse to God. He was busy eyeballing the bodies, the inhuman ones to be exact, while sweeping the area with the gun. The barrel visibly shook with his hands.

Ben looked around, seeing the cars were parked so that the original two vans that came in were parked left of the muscle car, while their two vans were parked to the right of it in a row.

A small group broke off, trying to get in the front while Ben systematically checked both of the two vans. No souls in either.

He jogged over to the car the rookie was starting up and peered in the back, seeing an old walkman. He ripped the headphones out before tossing it at Alex, who just barely caught it.

"Make yourself useful and give some words about the scene," Ben said. He walked away before the kid could say anything.

He knelt down beside a body near the previous team's van, noticing the large frame of a gun pinned beneath his body. He lifted him carefully, plucking the submachine gun from under the corpse and inspecting it. It looked firing ready, and a quick mag check showed it to be, for the most part, fully loaded and ready to go. Hell, the safety was still on, like he got killed with no warning whatsoever.

That was a pleasant thought.

He put his pistol back in his jacket and un-safetied the gun, putting it on full-auto. As he stood, he could've sworn that he saw something move past the vehicle. He aimed the weapon, darting between both sides of it.

"Contact!" He yelled. He quickly went around the right side, letting his hand rest his gun on the hood as he slid all the way over. Nothing was there.

Then, gunfire was heard, before it stopped and was replaced by a scream. Ben turned as there was more gunfire and a scream of someone else, until he saw someone stumble out of the room clutching their gut with an ever increasing amount of blood covering his stomach. But before he could be helped or fall to the ground, a black form charged him from behind, ripping into his head before darting to another in the blink of an eye. He wasn't paying attention to them or the noises of shotgun and pistol shots ringing out anymore though.

More were quickly coming from the surrounding forest, and Ben hightailed it back around to the passenger side of the van and ran to the end of them so he could secure their exit. However, as he passed the first van, something darted from between the two vehicles and grabbed Ben by the back of the neck, lifting him off the ground. He was spun around, meeting the dangerously close face of a no-eyed monster. Ben knew he was pissing himself now, but he didn't care about that. It roared in his face before letting him drop, but before he could even fall a centimeter, he was held back off the ground by the large blade and rope thing protruding from his chest.

He sobbed and screamed in pain, his right arm flailing wildly as he unknowingly held the trigger down. Bullets flew everywhere, but before the mag could be depleted or his life force expended, a single stray bullet caught the gas tank of one of the vans they took. Normally, it would've done nothing, but it was unbeknownst to Ben, or any of his team for that matter, that the loaded rounds were not normal rounds.

They were incendiary. Military-grade. Someone from the last team knew something, and they were packing just for it.

Ben's agony lasted for almost nothing as the blast and inferno knocked the rest of him out of commission.

---

My ears were ringing terribly, and my body ached something fierce. The wind was knocked out of me, and I coughed and sputtered into the grass as I remembered how to breathe. I sat up shakily, turning to my left and planting a hand on my shotgun as I tried getting up. However, I was quickly forced back to the ground as the black form crawled over me and got close to my face, examining me with interest. He had his hand on my chest to hold me down, but that didn't stop me from raising the already pumped gun to his head and pulling the trigger. My wrist flew and so did the gun, while I quickly pulled my unzipped coat well over my face with my left hand. I could feel the blood melt and burn into my hand while I shoved the creature off with my right.

It hurt like Hell, and I quickly tore my coat off and wiped my hand as best as I could with the clean bits before tossing it beside the body. I stood up, my hand still burning terribly as I picked up my gun with the other. I paid no mind to my aching wrist as I turned and looked about with a sense of urgency

All around was fire and death. A dead body of one of our team was next to me, his blood staining the grass beside and under me. I couldn't hear the screams and gunfire of everyone around me, but I knew it was there. One of the vans was on its side and decimated, while the other was quickly beginning to warm up, its paint getting burn marks around it. I couldn't see the muscle car between the two vans; Rookie must've drove off when the firing started.

I saw someone run into the garage and turn around, nearly closing the door before seeing me and waving me on, shouting something. I stumbled towards him, pumping out another exhausted shell and blasting the knee out of a form rushing to the door. The recoil against my shoulder was hard and aggravated the burn on it.

As I got up to the door, the guy wrapped his arm behind my back and pushed me back as he slammed the door shut. He locked it, slid the deadbolt left and down, and pushed the shelf back in front of the door. It had many thumps resonating from it, and it wouldn't be long at all until it came down or they found another way in.

Apparently there was another way in, because the other guy started running to the busted window in the back that I completely forgot about. Thankfully, there was another shelf for him to push in front of it, but it wouldn't last for long either.

I looked around frantically, unable to take the burning in my hand anymore, until I saw a sink and rushed to it. I turned it on cold and let it pour over my disfigured hand, the back of which burned red terribly. Part of it bled which ran down the sink, but for the most part, there was just a small chunk of missing flesh in my hand that didn't got to my bones, thank God.

It was kinda funny. I'm freezing to death but I can't take the heat in my hand. Beautiful.

My hearing must've been coming back, because I could barely hear the other person say, "Hey, you're Alex, right? I'm Jenson - you alright?" I looked back at him, realizing it was the guy the other guy we rode with. That made me smile a little, for whatever reason.

"When we leave, yeah," I said. I turned the water off and started walking to Jackson's room, my hand already heating up again.

He was still there, just as terrified as ever. Truly a gruesome mess, though the screeching and banging on the building kept me from focusing on that.

I lifted the shelf up off the ground, seeing many small trinkets and pictures busted and broken on the ground. I stepped over them, searching around his room for anything, anything at all. There were three whisky bottles on his table and a lighter beside an ashtray. I pocketed the lighter before moving it all - including the table - to the outside of his room's door, just to the side. I set the shotgun beside that as well.

"You got a plan?" He asked. I went back in.

"It's coming to me." I ripped his dresser drawer open and grabbed a black shirt before coming back out. "You know what a molotov is?"

"Yeah?" I tossed him the shirt and handed him my pocket knife, before going back in. "You wanna burn the place down?" I knelt down in front of the bed, carefully avoiding the blood on the mattress and the little bit that dripped on the floor.

"I think it was already beginning to burn in the first place, Jenson." My hand was searching under the bed as I spoke until I felt the handle of a box which, when I pulled it out, showed it to be a first aid kit. I got up and went to the table where Jenson was getting the knife open. "That's their weakness, and I don't think running from here's an option." I paused, before saying, "I got it."

"Hit me." I opened the box, snatching the gauze and wrapping my burned hand.

"I saw you searching the bodies. Don't suppose you found their keys?" He nodded and pulled them out.

"Yeah, but we can't go out there, it's suicide."

"So we gotta arm up and get ready to fight, and when it comes, we slip through them and get to the vans. We just gotta lower their numbers, right?" He didn't look to enthusiastic about the idea.

"That's the plan? Not gonna lie, it's a pretty shitty one."

"Of course it is, but we ain't got any other choices, do we?" Silence. "That's what I thought. Jenson, you wanna live, don't ya?"

"Of course I wanna fucking live, what kinda question is that?"

"Then you better gather every ounce of your strength, every ounce of your willpower, and get ready, because the two of us?" I pointed towards the barricades. "How the Hell do you fight that? They just wiped out everyone! We're not meant to survive this, but we're gonna, because we fought for it, and we earned it." The screeches just got significantly louder, something we both noticed. "We've already wasted too much time, you ready?"

"...We ain't got nothing better?" I shook my head solemnly. He looked down, swore something under his breath, looked back up, and said, "Alright, let's do this."

I loaded a few more shells into the gun, having fired four of them so far. As I did, I did a quick look about the garage, looking for anything of benefit. I spotted it in the back corner in what looked like a sort of welding area, which I ran towards.

"Good idea, kid. Here, I'll help you push 'em," He said, referring to an acetylene tank.

"Not that! If that goes, we all go!" I yelled. "The clothing - that shit's thick leather, maybe thick enough to hold back that acid blood they have long enough to protect us." They're were multiple sets of it, too, so Jenson and I both were well set.

I could hear sizzling, and I realized that they had begun to melt down the garage door. I grabbed the clothing, ran to a nearby workbench, and set the Walkman I had been carrying in my pocket on it while I dressed, hitting the record button.

---

"My name… My name is Alex Danar," It began, traces of static and animalistic noises in the background. An even louder roar was heard, and I swore I heard him wince. "Oh, shit," He breathed out. I started pacing around, holding the device in my hand as I did.

"I'm with Jenson… What's your last name?"

"Clark."

"Jenson Clark, I'm with Jenson Clark at the mechanic shop where this will likely be found. We are the only survivors remaining, the rest are dead or dying."

"Shit, kid, stop talking and get your goddamn suit on!"

"Hold on!" He shouted. Movement and rustling could be heard as he talked, focusing more on whatever he was doing.

"Xerxes," He said, and I immediately turned back to the device. "Xerxes, if your listening to this, please, don't come looking for me. I know I can't stop you, and you'll probably ignore me regardless, but I need you to understand something. The shit that I'm doing now and what I did yesterday to save you, that's been for you.

"I don't know why I've been helping you or been with you so much in these past thirty something hours - maybe I pitied you and wanted to help or something. Maybe I've been feeling a little suicidal lately and just haven't given a damn whether I die tomorrow or today, I dunno."

"ALEX!"

"IT'S ALL FUCKING ON! JUST GIMME A MINUTE!" He roared back. He started again, talking a lot faster now. "The more I look back, the more I can't help but wonder why the hell I stuck around, why I didn't do anything else that could've changed this path I've gone down…

"But I regret nothing - not a single thing - that has happened to us in this short time…" He sighed. "I wish you were here, Xerxes, or better yet, I with you. You'd probably say something sappy like I am, but with fewer words or something. Maybe some alien proverb or something…

"I hope you never hear this, but if you do, leave. Never come back, and let all that I have done not be in vain, please." I could hear a loud crashing in the background, followed by even louder and more present screeches and roars.

"Heads up!" Jenson yelled in the background, and I could hear Alex catching something.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm fucking terrified right now. I love you, X, I really do, I think. I'm sorry for putting you through the party last night and how we last talked, but just know that whatever happens…

"I tried…" There was a 'click!', and then it was over.

"Alex?" I said pointlessly to the thing, "Alex?!"

I ran back outside, looking rapidly all around me.

"ALEX!" I yelled as loud as I could.

Nothing.

Where could he be? Where can I find him?! I thought, but I already knew the answer. I considered, for only a fraction of a fraction of a second, of leaving forever, never to come back, but I wasn't, I couldn't.

I looked about one last time, seeing the fire lick at the building's walls now, the rain doing absolutely nothing against it.

"I'm coming, Alex," I said, before sprinting as fast and as hard as I could, reaching the tree line before the Walkman even hit the dirt.

---

'Click!'

It was done, and I felt like I had just signed away my life. I sighed, set the Walkman down, and wiped away the tears on my face.

Jenson saw me, saying, "You alright?"

I shook my head and walked, going over to the dead guy and gathering up his blood in the palm of my now gloved hand. I was fully covered, and even more so once I pulled down the welder's helmet over my face.

"Ah, man, he probably doesn't want you doing that, kid." I stood up and walked back to where I set the Walkman, before smearing my message on the wall behind it.

"And I don't want my friend coming here and getting himself killed, but this is about all I can settle for," I said as I painted. "You did grab his gun and anything useful off him, right?"

"Yes, now hurry up man, I think I can see a hole forming!" I did.

By the time I was done, I ran to Jenson and stood beside him, the two of us watching the garage door melt and bubble into nothing. The barricaded door was also melting, but nothing was happening at the window. Odd, but I wasn't going to it; they probably had some ambush set up outside of it.

The garage door had a fairly large hole now, but neither of us saw anything behind it. However, that all stopped when we heard a faint thumping in the distance. The noise got louder and louder, and it wasn't long before I could feel the vibrations in the ground.

I looked at Jenson and mouthed the words, "What the Hell is that?" He looked back at me, nervously shrugged, and said nothing.

But then, we saw it. Through the hole in the door, down the lane of the road and past the burning wreckage, we saw it.

It was giant, maybe double the height of the normal creatures. The top of its skull was wider, and looked like it was meant to ram something, which was quickly confirmed once it started charging towards us.

The two of us started falling back from the garage door. "Get the mollys ready!" I yelled, and he ran back. I backed up to the side, keeping the gun aimed at the door. I could feel a bead of sweat going down my forehead, hidden by the mask, and I took a breath.

The door was nothing to the beast, bits of it exploding and tearing inwards as it slowed to a stop. It turned its head towards me as I aimed the gun, grinning as if he had already won. As a molotov flew towards him, he sidestepped, dodging the firebomb but allowing it to instead land at the doorway he created. One of them nearly went through, but jumped back in terror when the flames threatened to lick him.

I pulled the trigger, pumping a shot out as shells pelted his head. It did nothing but scrape, like metal on metal. I pumped and refired, hitting centermass where it stuck in his chest, but didn't bleed.

By then, he was already running towards us, and I had to dive out of the way just in time to avoid getting ran over. It made and attempt to grab me as it passed, but missed and continued towards Jenson, whom it grabbed as I chambered another shell.

I was about to run to him before I saw the horde pushing through the burning doorway, using the human fallen as a fire-blanket. I scrambled back up to a knee, aiming and firing another two shots as fast as I could pump and fire. Blood flew towards me, landing on the welding mask as two fell down. I grunted, stood up fully, and shot once more before turning towards Jenson and running.

I pumped another shell, having lost count at this point how many I've shot, before jumping on the table and landing on his back. I planted my foot fast and hard on one of the sharp spikes, before lifting the gun up to the back its neck and firing, pumping, firing, pumping, firing, pumping, click!

Blood flew out, and a lot of it, The beast had stopped moving by the third shot, and I fell back as it began to topple over. The wind was knocked out of me again as I fell on my back, but Jenson, who was still alive, came around and picked me up as he fired at the monsters.

"Get up!" He shouted. "Take off your helmet, it's gonna melt through!" He started firing again as I stood up shakily, tossing my helmet elsewhere and looking at my shotgun. The barrel was melted terribly, and so was my left glove until I tossed that too elsewhere. Jenson started to push forwards as I pulled out the revolver, the two of us firing into the breach until no more appeared through.

"Holy shit," He said, "We're still alive."

"It ain't over yet!" I yelled, checking my ammo count, only three remaining rounds. "C'mon!"

We went through the hole, looking around warily before running towards the vans. The bodies were gruesome, many having their insides torn out, large holes in their heads, or their throats destroyed beyond belief.

"Toss the keys, I'm driving," I said. He did. I ran around the side of the van and got in, slamming the door and turning the key. It stuttered, like it wanted to give out, and started shakily.

But before I could even put in reverse, the glass of my window shattered and sprayed me, my head being slammed back by a black hand. I could see claws going for my exposed throat, and I slammed my arm down on his, raising my gun in my right. He swatted it away, and next thing I knew, my door was collapsing and I was being shoved.

I toppled over onto the grass, rolling to my side before quickly standing up and backing away. I looked at the van, Jenson in the driver's seat and already backed up enough.

"Jenson!" I yelled, but he was already flooring it down the lane. I looked back at the alien, before sprinting as fast as I could to the van. "JENSON, GODDAMNIT, STOP THE VAN!" I nearly got close enough and jumped, missing the back bumper or anything at all I could grab on, before rolling and spinning to a stop, seeing the red tail lights continue down the distance as I laid on the ground. I got up and spun back around, seeing the now multiple aliens looking at me with interest.

"Oh, shit," I breathed out, "Oh, fuck." They were everywhere, all down the lane to the garage, I took a quick glance over my shoulder and saw none behind me, like they were inviting me to run. But we all knew I couldn't outrun them forever.

Rage, fear, despair - The wombo-combo that was beating the ever living shit out of me. What could I even do? Jenson fucked me. I hoped he crashed and is burning alive. They were getting closer by the second.

I had no plan, but I did. By God was it a bad one, too, worse than the one I had earlier.

I ran towards them.

I went full sprint as fast as I could down the lane, dodging between them. As I did, I was keeping as many of them in check as I could, forcing their bodies against them and holding them back one at a time. My brain hurt, somewhere between a headache and migraine forming as I ran. Blood was already going down to my lip.

It wasn't long before I was back to the burning wreckage. I didn't slow down until I saw a body beside the only van left in one piece. When I saw him and the gun he had in his hands, I stopped dead in my tracks and tried to make it a quick grab.

But I had misjudged the scene, missing the shape of a creature as it darted around the side of the van in silence, coming up on my left and slashing upwards at my face. I had no time to even react, flying backwards and landing a small distance away from the garage door. Pain burned up the left side of my neck, my face actually being relatively unscathed. But when my hands reached my neck, I could feel just how bad it was, and when I sat up, I could see blood.

So much blood… Jesus… There's so much blood.

Blood was dripping down on my jacket, going over the bloodstains of the fallen and into the bloodstains of the enemy. A small amount was visibly spraying out at my every heartbeat. Even as I forced my hands to the point of choking me on it, it still bled heavily.

"Not like this!" I heaved, rapidly crawling backwards to the garage in terror and clutching my neck. I could feel myself getting weaker, somehow even more cold than I had already been. I scrambled up, backing up as I retreated into the building. I tripped backwards on the body still in the gap, landing flat on my ass on the unforgiving concrete and crawling away again.

My hand landed on a wrench on the ground, the same one I used two nights ago in my last fight here. The idea of fight renewed a spark in me, one that made me clutch the wrench and force myself up. I stumbled as I turned around, just barely catching myself, saying, "Come on, come on!" under my breath. I pushed myself back up and into the only place I could go: Jackson's room.

They were all walking now, no longer running at me but savoring the kill. This I saw as I nearly collapsed into the room, slamming the door shut and weakly getting it latched. The banging once again started. Thank God Jackson had those thick, metal work doors or whatever.

Poor guy, never even got a decent burial. He was decaying - you could smell the rotting meat. I would've gagged if I wasn't literally dying.

I backed away and started looking about the room one more time. I pulled out a shirt from his dresser, which I ripped in half and folded as tightly as possible. I looked up and down the once fallen shelf, before finding what I needed on the floor beside it. I picked up the roll of duct tape and peeled out a large strip as best as I could with slippery fingers, before taping the shirt to my neck, followed by more tape going around my neck entirely. Breathing became harder, but I wasn't bleeding as bad anymore, and that's all that matters.

That door was really starting to budge. Wasn't long now, maybe half than a minute, more if I'm lucky.

I wiped my nose and grabbed the wrench I had to set down while bandaging up, gripping it until my knuckles turned white. No longer was this an escape attempt - it was a last stand. And this time, I didn't have Xerxes or the cops coming.

"Come on! You want a hunt?! You want a fight?! WELL YOU FUCKING GOT ONE!" I yelled. I tried to get myself pumped up, and it was sort of working.

I took a step towards the door, before slipping on blood - mine or Jackson's, I didn't know - and landing on my side, my head hitting the floor. I didn't pass out, but the added pain was certainly there.

I couldn't help but wonder if that's what it was gonna feel like to die - lying cold in a pool of blood like that. However, where I landed allowed me to look under Jackson and his bed, knocking me out of my thoughts when I saw a large crate taking up most of the space in the far back near the wall. There was a rope connected to it that led just an arms length away from reaching out from underneath.

"What…?" I said. I put the wrench in my pocket as I crawled to it, gripping my neck tightly as my arm reached further in. I was just barely able to grab it, slowly pulling it out. I got my back up against the bed, not really caring about the blood, and peeled off the small tarp covering the top.

"No fuckin' way…" I breathed out, barely audible. I looked back at the door, the poor chained dead-bolt about to give away any moment. I reached in the box as my breathing quickened in excitement, pulling out the large assault-rifle. I don't remember the name of it, but I knew it was Russian made. Goddamn was Jackson packing.

The door made a horrible screeching noise, and I quickly reached in and slammed the magazine in. I looked for whatever I needed to chamber the round as I carefully stood up, the door falling down just before I was able to find it. It made an amazing 'cha-chink!' when I released it, and a small grin formed on my face.

I got the stock up to my shoulder and fired, dodging to the left behind the shelf to avoid the acid blood and toppling body. I started to yell at some point, never releasing the trigger and having to dodge back to the right and step on the bleeding body to avoid being ran into by a second, before they too fell. I slid down to a knee on the right wall as a third one came in, the second flew against the shelf and tipped it back forwards where it stopped just above my head. Three made an attempt to grab for me and slam the shelf back up, but he was slow, and I rolled to the left on my stomach further beneath the shelf as his body hit the ground.

No more were coming in, and I was gasping for breath. I carefully put the shelf back up and stood up, watching where I stepped as I grabbed the additional mags, stuffing a mag in both my front pockets and replacing the spent one. A quick chamber check and additional layer of bandage on my neck later, and I was stepping back out in the main room.

I looked around frantically, before turning around and seeing one jump at me from the roof of Jackson's room, a large gap between his room's ceiling and the building's ceiling. I couldn't bring the gun up fast enough, the alien landing on me and knocking the gun from my hands. He was quick to try and finish the job, getting up to my face and nearly jabbing a hole in my face with that tiny lil' fucker in his mouth. I grabbed him by the neck as I pulled the wrench out with my left, making him take it as I swung the wrench into his head and knocked him off.

He did nothing, falling to the ground as I groaned and got up. I walked around him and hooked him by the neck with my arm, dragging him to the wall to Jackson's room where I slammed him into. He did nothing but make a noise like a whimper, and I almost came close to not swinging that wrench like a baseball bat into his head against the wall.

Almost. Now I was missing both gloves and a wrench.

I grabbed the rifle and darted to the twisted garage door, muttering, "Come on, come on." But right as I made it to the gap, another came around the corner. I cursed and doubled back, seeing the window barricade topple with ease and another two come in. I cursed again, turning back around near Jackson's room and the massive body and firing.

Two semi-quick shots in the one in front of me, kneecaps. He falls as I turn to the right, shooting at the pair and hitting the one to the right, who came to a knee fairly close. The left one of the pair tried tackling me, but I dove to the right and faltered her step. She flew past me as I got up and rammed the stock of my rifle into the wounded one's head. They flew backwards, and I saw just how much damage I did to him; five holes in his chest, abdomen, and neck. He'd be gone soon enough.

The one whose knees I blew out was crawling here now at a fairly rapid speed, but they stopped entirely when I fired four more into their head. The one who dove past me was already up, screeched or roared in rage, and ran to me. Only five more shots came out, only some hitting her but not killing her. 'Click! Click!'

"Oh, shit." I started backpedaling as I knocked the magazine out, replaced it, and rechambered it. Right as I brought it up to aim, just before I was going to pull the trigger, she was on me. The gun was ripped from my hands tossed well across the room. But before she tossed it, she slammed it across my head twice and made it hard to concentrate. She shoved me hard and I fell, her tail shooting around my left leg tightly. The tip of it was near my thigh, and any attempt at forcing their bodies against them was blinded by pain as it drove in. It was slow, twisting as it dug deeper. By then, she was back on me, pressing her weight on my pelvis and holding me down. Blood ran down her body, threatening me as it got closer.

She pressed her claws around my bandaged neck, slightly peeling it away before stopping. She gathered her saliva in her hands, morphing it into what I quickly realized to be what Xerxes put on me.

The bandages.

I squirmed and made her focus dissipate, before she drove the blade in deeper. I groaned with pain and terror, my fear spiking at the thought of having that shit healing me again, infecting me like a virus. I struggled and looked around quickly, the blade going in deeper and faster. But as this fear and pain kept growing, I could feel something forming in the center of my mind. It was quick, and I screamed in even further agony as what I could only describe as a shockwave came from me. The creature on my front was dead, and I could've sworn I saw the severely injured one of the pair still crawling around in my peripheral before whatever happened. A body fell dead from the roof of Jackson's room, the roof of the actual building much higher and creating a gap between roofs. The sight startled me, and I realized that another was still up there and ready to pounce.

My head throbbed, and I felt like puking. I moaned in pain as I crawled out of the grip and tail and got up slowly, blood flowing from my leg. I grabbed my rifle and just wrapped a bunch of duct tape around my pant leg, before replacing the loaded mag and pocketing the last one left. I was breathing hard as I walked to the garage door, a limp very visible in my step.

Outside was the same shit; dead bodies, fire, fucking rain. It didn't matter, and I stepped out while checking all around me. I limped my way to my revolver that I lost, gritting my teeth as I got low and placed it back in my waistband.

But these masters of stealth were already surrounding me, coming from around the corner of the building, off the tall roof, and just a few out of the woods. They sure did like this whole 'bait-and-retreat' method.

I fired at one as I dove under the nearby, final functioning van. I tried crawling under to be closer with where the muscle car was earlier, but my arm was grabbed from the other side and I was ripped the rest of the way out. A small rock the size of my hand was sticking out of the grassy mud, and I gripped onto it and pulled it with me.

I was stood up with my left arm being pinned against the vehicle, the rifle held firmly in the immobile limb. But my right was armed, and I slammed the hard earth down on their arm hard enough to create a painful 'snap!', before coming back and hitting them in their dome where they had to get away from me. They acted like they were gonna fall, but I was gone the second they let go. I tossed the rock at them when I started moving, my final glance of them being a large crack in their skull.

I hopped between the two burning wrecks quickly, my foot landing awkwardly with the pain in my thigh. I wasn't fully out yet, and I placed my right hand on the scolding rear bumper to keep my balance. Though I'm numb to the heat, I'm not to pain, and I made a noise between a hiss and cry as it fueled my strength. I stumbled out and scooped some mud in my blistering red hand, sighing for once at the coolness on my skin. Infection be damned; the hole in my hand was the least of my problems now.

I was on the edge of the woods now, and I risked looking back before I entered. Some acted like they wanted to just vault the burning vehicles, but none did. I think I could see some of them already past the one I crawled under, some jumping over it and shooting towards me. I aimed the rifle, the weapon visibly shaking with my freezing hands, and fired. The recoil wasn't an issue, it was keeping the rifle steady in unsteady hands. Somewhere north of ten rounds came out, and out of the three targets I hit, only one fell. I didn't even bother counting how many were still coming, and I started booking it through the forest.

I swear to God, I was passing dozens of them as I ran, like the shape of them was just barely being caught in the corners of my eyes. My finger was ready on the trigger.

Another glance behind and I immediately regretted it, seeing them less than ten yards away if I were to estimate. They made little noise, and it was confusing to hear nothing and see them be so close. I didn't question it, however, and just kept running.

There was a small hill up ahead, which I put everything in to get to. However, when I reached the peak it became apparent that this was no small hill, but the edge to a steep slope. I was is no way prepared for this and flew off, screaming, "Shit!" at the surprise. I wasn't in the air for long, and my back quickly collided with the slope. I was in the process of trying to right my feet and legs for landing, and I ended up pushing off on accident when I did finally connect. Something happened, and my knee exploded in pain. I kept rolling and tumbling the rest of the way down, and it was when I finally rolled to a stop at the bottom that I realized that I had no idea where I was going. Doesn't matter, I thought.

I was covered in mud and scrapes from the fall, but was devoid of anything serious minus what I already have. Talk about luck.

Well, that's what I thought at first, but it quickly vanished when I tried getting up only to fall back down in pain. I looked down at my legs, now realizing my previous assessment was wrong. Along with the painful gash in my thigh, I now had something up with my right leg at the knee. I tried moving it below the knee, and I cried out in agony as I did. When it subsided, I moaned in pain and disgust.

"No…" I tried moving it again, grunted in an attempt to suppress the scream of pain, and yelled, "No!" I think I shattered my kneecap.

In fewer words, I'm fucked.

I looked around me, seeing that getting out of this pit wouldn't be hard since everywhere but the way I came gently went up instead of the steep wall I fell down. But what I was looking for was the rifle, which was further away than I fell. It wasn't far, but everything was far as I pulled myself closer to it. At least the fistfulls of mud cooled my hand down.

I heard a noise, a set of noises, and when I looked back at the slope I came down, I saw the horde still following me. They slid down the hill with ease, not a single one tripping up like I did. I grunted and fought through the pain, screwing my knee up even further I'm willing to bet.

It was right there, and when I grabbed the rifle, I really doubted it would fire again. It was coated in mud and barrel was probably jammed full of it.

But that didn't stop me from rolling onto my back pulling the trigger. Surprisingly, it fired, and I had a great appreciation for the Russians now. And Jackson, God rest his soul.

I think I saw four of them after me now, and one was already dead before the others dove behind the trees. The mag ran out then, as well, and when I looked for my spares, I found that I lost one of them. It could be anywhere between the shop and here, so it might as well be in another dimension.

"Fuck," I muttered, jamming the mag in place and tossing the spent one at one of the trees they were behind. "C'mon! Finish the job, you pussies!" I was slowly crawling back, trying to get as much distance as possible.

As I did, I felt my neck, the bandage completely soaked and now leaking down my neck. It hurt, and I forced myself not to think about it.

Not to think about the fact that I'm going to bleed out.

In the woods.

Freezing.

Alone…

I wanted so desperately to call for Xerxes, but I knew he wasn't coming. Not this time. He wouldn't be coming to save me like he did those other times.

It's kinda funny how much of fuck-up of a life I've had. I was tortured the moment I was born, or pretty close at least, by father who's a psychopath while my mother stood beside and drank her wine. Now she's a full time drunk plus her job, since she doesn't have Frank to worry about anymore. I've joined an 'organization' - they like to say, but really it's just an over glorified gang of car thieves and racers - and have stolen and even gotten into small races - which I won, by the by - for the last two years. My first - and last - time was with an alien. And to sum it all up, I'm gonna die at the ripe age of seventeen, in the middle of the woods, clutching an AK-47 (That's the name!), and likely very violently by the brothers and sisters of the one I'm in love with.

I hate myself for the way we last talked.

Xerxes can never find me. Hell, I don't think he will - There'll probably be nothing left! At the most, I'd probably look like Jackson. Though I think I deserve a little more than that after the shit I've caused them…

Did I do something in a past life to deserve this? Was I a 'Frank' once upon a time?

I stopped thinking and focused when I caught a shape in the corner of my eye to the left darting between trees. I fired. I know I hit them, spotting the green blood shoot out and start smoking on a tree, but they kept on moving and dove to a tree relatively close to me. I couldn't see them at all, and I knew this was a losing battle.

I looked back to the right, panicking and unloading at least half of the magazine into the creature bum rushing me. Their body collapsed and rolled towards me, and I rolled to the left to avoid it. It was agony on my leg, though.

When I stopped moving, I could actually see a portion of the alien who I shot earlier behind the tree. I brought the stock up carefully and did my best to keep it steady, but in my focus, I overlooked one important fact.

Where was the fourth one?

I was given an answer when the rifle was kicked out of my hands. Horror spread on my face as I saw them, a large dent in their skull. The other one came up to me, bleeding a good amount from the side of their stomach. It made me smile in a sick way.

Dent, who I so lovingly named, placed his foot on my knee and pressed down. I cried out in an insane mixture of pain and laughter. I guess I deserve it! I thought, and embraced the madness.

Dent pressed down even harder, and I only shouted in agony for just a moment before resuming my laughter.

But it was as I laughed that I revealed my sinister intentions, grabbing my revolver in a quick motion and firing the last three rounds. Two went into the neck and head of Dent, who was already falling backwards when I put the final one in the chest of the wounded one. He was on me in an instant, grabbing me painfully by the neck and knocking my lights out with a powerful punch.

I never let go of the gun.

---

My heart was breaking with every step that I took.

If Alex isn't dead yet, he's gonna wish he is. Not unless I get to him.

I just had to get there before he was implanted, please, just let me get there.

I can't let them kill him.

I can't let him die.

I can't let him.

I can't…

I…

…I stopped thinking and just ran.

At some point, I knew I was getting closer to where I needed to go. I felt a connection - a link - being established, but it wasn't Alex. They said two words, two simple words, and I realized how close I was to the entrance leading to Hell.

"Hello, Xerxes," Said The Queen.

Thanks go to Incurser for trudging through this marathon of a chapter and beta-reading it. Should I keep doing long chapters like this or not? Lemme know in the comments.

A little note from incurser: Say yes! I honestly don't mind. I quite enjoy it. :p

Well damn, you heard the man. Say yes! Plus, it makes me smile every time I get a comment notification.

Final note - go read some of Incurser's stuff okaythanksbye.