1

Willo

' H

I'm alive.

That was the very first thing that Willo thought upon waking up from being dead. She couldn't quite tell what the strain of thought's mood was. At first she had thought it was relieved, which was only to be replaced with suspicions that it wasn't. Perhaps it had been shock, disbelief or even disappointment.

Willo wasn't exactly sure what to believe at this point.

One step at a time. She thought.

You're good at assessing things, start in one place and go from there. To build a tower, one must first begin with a base. She took in a shuddering breath, eyes closed. She waited until her heartbeat steadied. It had been jumping around, quick staccato notes of lub-dub. Was the reason for her strange heartbeat her shock? Or was it because her heart had just jump-started itself and was recovering. Or maybe it was because she had just got done running for her life.

She sure hadn't done a good job of running for her life. If she had, she wouldn't have died.

Or did she do a good job. She was alive now.

Nope. Thought Willo, Not the time, finish the base of the tower first. She evened out her breathing, still mildly concerned for her heart which was now making noises similar to l-lub-d-dub, but was still better than before. As soon as she had calmed enough to think straight, she opened her eyes. She had to figure out where she was before she could figure out how to get home. Or, of course, if she was even going home.

When Willo opened her eyes, she thought they were still closed. Then, she realized it was so dark that her eyes needed to adjust. After a few moments, her pupils obliged and widened to let more light in. She slowly swiveled her head around. She was lying in a heap in an alley, surrounded by bags of trash. The air was acrid, as with most city-air. She could taste the tang sulfur and iron in the air. Wait, iron or blood? She thought, wondering about the source before she realized she was lying in a puddle of red. Oh. Was all she could do to respond to that. She would have been creeped out, had she not seen so much blood throughout the course of her seventeen years. The concrete floor of the alley was cold to the touch, but she was glad for it. She pulled herself from the puddle of warm, sticky blood and sprawled herself on the ground in a messy flailing of limbs and drying blood. She decided to close her eyes again, letting a curtain of darkness fall over her vision once more. Right, now I know where I am.

Next level.

Willo thought hard for a second, trying to recall what had happened. She caught flashes of the "Incident" and began to piece them together. Just like a puzzle, she thought, trying to soothe her nerves. Yes, a puzzle. A bloody, murder puzzle- No, that is not how you should think of this. Think of this as if it were someone else. But that was easier said than done, and all that Willo was getting from putting her memory back in order was a splitting headache, stress, and an immense sense of betrayal.

He killed me.

The thought hit her like a tsunami. Like a wave that thrust her under the water, allowing the riptide to drag her under, deeper and deeper… until there was no sense of her left and all she could feel was pain. She let herself feel the weight of it, as if a hundred weighted blankets had fallen on her and were burying her until she couldn't breathe. It was still too warm and her breathing was ragged once more. Willo pulled herself together, she could feel the tears forming in her eyes. She couldn't cry. Oh, physically, sure. But Willo hadn't let herself cry in years and she wasn't planning on breaking tradition today.

You already have. Said a tratorious part of her thoughts. You died. That's breaking tradition , surelly.

Of course. If staying alive was a tradition. Which, Willo supposed, it sort of was. Or, perhaps the tradition was staying dead. Maybe that was the tradition she broke. This is immensely stupid. Thought Willo. Stop arguing with yourself. Pull it together!

Willo sat up and opened her eyes, sending a dizzying rush up her spine and into her head. She clutched her head for a moment and a thought struck her. She felt absolutely fine. Apart from being emotionally exhausted, overheated and covered in flaking, half-dry blood, that is. But physically she felt like she could run a marathon. Or win a fight. A fight with a full grown guy. Unconsciously she placed a hand on her ribs, right where she had been shot.

How did she know where she had been shot? She looked down, there was a hole in her shirt, right in her ribs on her right side. Her hand was underneath the bottom of her shirt, pressed to her ribs and she removed it. All she saw was a scar, a bullet wound scar, but a scar nonetheless. She closed her eyes. She knew where she had been shot, not just from the memory, but it was as though she had developed a sixth sense. Willo just knew. It felt like she had been a mug that was broken and glued back together. She could feel the seams, could feel where the glue held her together.

She shifted around, and she could feel the bullet poking into other things in her chest. She shuddered a bit and tried to ignore the bullet and how it felt when it pressed up against her organs. Willo stood up, shaky on her feet. Not for any physical ailment, just once more shock. She made her way out of the alley, ignoring the looks of horror people gave her. She made haste, walking quickly. A few people called the police, seeing the blood, but no one tried to talk to her or stop her as she walked towards the edge of the city. It was nearing dawn by the time she reached the edge of the city. The city's name was "Sincerity" How ironic.

Sincerity was next to a desert, if she could escape into the desert for a little, no one would find her. She could make a plan. No one would think she was stupid enough to hide in a desert, and no one was stupid enough to follow her there, either. She stepped out onto the sand, as the skyscrapers turned into smaller, older buildings and eventually disappeared.

The sun was coming up over the horizon, and Willo used her arm to block out the light. She hurried, the sand sticking to the blood on the soles of her shoes. She sat under a rock and took in the beauty of the desert. There were no huge buildings looming overhead. The air was clean and breathable. All she could see, assuming she looked away from the city, was dunes and rocks and the occasional saguaro cactus. She had settled underneath this particular ledge because it provided shade and a view of the city, far enough away that she couldn't hear or smell it. She sat there for probably an hour, just resting and letting her mind fuzz in and out of consciousness. What am I going to do? She pondered, smiling at how screwed she was.

After a while, she heard the rumble of a motor and jolted awake, fully this time. She froze. She heard the vehicle stop close to her, and heard a voice.

"I've been searching for hours. I can't believe I haven't found a single snake. Or lizard. Or anything." Willo could tell it was a male's voice, young, too. He was probably around her age, no younger than sixteen since he was driving, and he sounded alone, like he was whining to himself. She tried to hold her breath, to make him not notice her, but failed when he checked to see if there was anything- or anyone, in her case- hiding beneath the ledge.

"Holy crap!" He yelled, falling backwards, butt-first into the sand. His wide eyes were an innocent-looking blue, and his hair was a light tan-brown that went well with his darker-tan skin tone. He looked some-what slim, but not short either. He wore jeans, now covered in sand, and a gray shirt that hung loosely, not having been tucked into his pants. Over his shirt he had a dark-gray, almost black, hoodie. He wore a brown belt, which Willo personally thought looked stupid with his blue jeans. He had on light-gray tennis-shoes and white socks.

Willo returned his shocked expression with a scowl.

"Y-You're covered in blood…" He trailed off, his face unsure of which expression to hold. Fear, shock and confusion cept spilling across his features. One expression was certain: Distrust. It was written all over him. No poker face at all. Her thoughts were a mix of sing-song and disapproval.

"Oh, wow, thank you for noticing." She returned with dry sarcasm. Her eyes were narrowed and one eyebrow was querked. Willo had mastered facial expressions years ago, when she had first begun to interact with her father's businesses… "Customers", as her father had liked to call them.

"Yes, you are very welcome." He snapped back, glaring. He stood up and brushed the sand off of himself and then extended a hand towards her.

She looked at his hand with disgust and waved it away, standing herself up. On a standing comparison, he was taller, but not by much. She looked him up and down. He looked pretty weak, it would be easy to take him down. If she could get her arms around his throat and pin him to the ground, he probably wouldn't be able to get her off. She would be able to knock him out. She looked up at his gaze defiantly.

"Jeez, what's with the death glare? I'm not going to like… kidnap you and put you in my murder basement." He tried a light-hearted joke, but it just made the air between them more awkward. He reached a hand up and put it on the back of his neck, as though he was unsure of what to do next.

"Yeah, that's not what I was worried about." She offered. She shuffled her feet and looked down. Willo was still tired, she hadn't gotten to sleep well and it was so hot. Willo thought she was going to die.

again.

"Uhm, well, since you know I'm not going to kill you, can I… I don't know, help you or something?" He seemed unsure of himself, as though he was treading on a frozen pond and he wasn't sure whether the ice coating was thin or not. "I'm not trying to be wierd or anything, but if you need to you can sleep on my couch. I'll take you to the hospital in the morning." He bit the fingernail of his thumb, looking lost.

Willo tilted her head, not knowing whether he was being serious or not.

"I don't need to go to the doctor, I'm fine." Her voice was coarse, like sandpaper. She could tell from his searching gaze that he didn't believe her.

"Okay, but if you get worse then you're going to the hospital." He insisted. Half of Willo wanted to slap his concerned look off of his face. But, the other, weaker, part of Willo was glad that someone cared, so she didn't slap him. Instead she tried for a laugh, but it only came out as a shaky cough. Which earned him a glare when he tried to reach out to comfort her.

He gestured to his jeep, a gray one, and she climbed in the back. The seats were leather, which was uncomfortably hot against Willo's back, but would make it easier for the boy to clean up the blood that flaked and smeared onto the seat.

After about twenty minutes of driving towards the city- the place she did not want to go back to, the boy said a word.

"Cape."

She looked at him incredulously, but he was facing forwards, driving responsibly. Willo was very confused about what he meant by "Cape". She wasn't wearing a cape. She was wearing a blood-stained, olive-green shirt with a bullet hole in it. The sleeves stretched to her wrists to hide the scars that had been caused by switchblades in mock-fights.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded, scowling at the back of his head.

"Oh, Cape is my name. Nice to meet you." Only then did he turn around to receive the award-winning glare she was shooting at him. "What's your name?" He asked, promptly turning around before she could give him her thoughts on his stupid name.

"Will." She replied. "Call me Will." She sighed and rested her head on her hand. When were they ever going to escape the heat?

"Will? For a girl?" She could hear the confusion in his voice, and decided she might as well explain.

"Yeah, my real name is Willo, like W-I-L-L-O, not the tree. But, I go by Will." Willo was a bit surprised that Cape had bothered to even point out that she was a girl. Sure, she had long, wavy, caramel hair that flowed down to her shoulder-blades. But, her frame was very boy-ish and her chest was flat. She also looked a whole lot tougher than most other girls her age. Most of the time people assumed that she was simply an androgynous boy. But no, Willo was born a girl. She simply didn't care what other people thought about her gender. If they asked, she would say "girl" and if they didn't, that was their problem.

"So, Willo-" He started, only to get cut off, mid sentence.

"One, it's Will. Two, no talking. Not now. It's too hot." She unbuckled the seat-belt and splayed herself across the seats of the jeep. She heard him laugh a bit.

"True, that." He responded and they drove on in silence.

Willo nearly melted in the sun and she breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as they entered the city. The skyscrapers may not be as beautiful as the desert, but they sure provided more shade than the sun does. Cape drove the jeep into a parking garage and parked his car in his spot. Parking spot number 79. Which meant that she had to walk all the way down 76 more parking spots before they could even begin walking to where Cape lived, because, just Willo's lick, the elevators were "Closed for maintenance" They hurried down the garage as they got the strangest looks from passerby. As they were nearing parking spot 54, Cape took off his hoodie and gave it to Willo. She put it on, but it only pressed the blood to her skin and made her even warmer than she previously was.

They finally got out of the mouth of the garage- which meant more sun. She drearily followed Cape towards his apartment. They hurried up the monotone staircase and down the hall until he reached room 326. He stuck a key in the lock and opened the door.

Willo sank down on the cold tile floor. Thinking that she had never been more thankful for anything more than she was for air conditioning in that moment. She closed her eyes and took a moment to relish laying on the floor. Then, she sat up and saw Cape watching her, visibly holding in his laughter. His dark-tan skin stood out against the cream-colored walls of his apartment. She could see the couch that he had mentioned earlier, it was black and leather, but it looked comfortable and there was a blanket strewn across it. She was anxious to lay down on it and fall asleep, but not quite yet, she still had to change and think and do a million other things before her body would let her even consider sleeping.

She made a face at him and he shook with the laughter he tried to stop from pouring out of him. He held up a finger.

"Give me a second, I'll grab you something to wear and you can change in the bathroom… I'll be right back." He turned and headed into another room, which Willo guessed was his bedroom. He returned with a dark-gray t-shirt in one hand and a brown belt and jeans in the other. She curled her lip in disgust.

"What is wrong with you?" She groaned, "Get me a long-sleeve shirt, one that isn't gray but nothing overly bright. Also, the jeans are fine, but what is it with you and brown belts? Black belts look so much better with blue jeans than brown belts do!" Willo was trembling. She hadn't meant to snap at Cape, but she was under a whole lot of stress and she couldn't bring herself to keep her voice level any longer. She waited for his biting remark, but he only replied with a laugh, combing his fingers through his sandy hair.

"I was wondering when your calm facade was going to snap." He set down the clothes and sat next to her on the floor, leaning back on his hands. She looked up at him, she had been doing a wonderful job of staying calm. Maybe he wasn't as naive as she had originally thought. She had only trusted him because she thought it wouldn't be too hard to snap his neck if he turned on her or got in the way. But, now? Well, she was definitely going to be more wary of him, that was for sure.

"Yeah, I know." He said, seemingly reading her mind. "I look super innocent and gullible with my 'big blue eyes'. But I didn't invite you to stay on my couch because I was being stupid, I did it because you look like you could use some help." He shook his head softly. "I'm really trying to do the right thing, it's harder than it looks." He turned his head back towards her and he looked up, meeting his gaze.

Willo's voice broke. "I honestly don't know what the right thing is anymore. I've never been a 'good person' but I always tried to do the best for my family… and my friends." Her head fell at "friends". Where had her friend's gotten her?

Dead in an alleyway, her thoughts responded.

"But here I am!" She cried out, all of her emotions bubbling up in her throat. She cupped her hands around her face and let her head fall so it faced down. She felt an arm extend around her shoulders. She flinched. When was the last time anyone had done anything to comfort her? She couldn't recall. All she could remember was the sound of the gunshot and the pain as it barreled into her ribs. She could feel herself shaking, but couldn't do anything about it.

I own this story. All rights and the storyline belong to me. This is a teaser.

This is not Vicious Fan Fic. I do love V.E. Schwabs books and I got inspiration to write this from her and Rebecca Shaffer. Check out "Monsters of Verity" and "Market of Monsters"

-SanguineTangerine