Chapter Eight

New York: Murder Three

Peyton closed his glassy eyes, tears running freely from her own like a raging river. The rest of the girls showed up next, then Candice and Todd. Some shrieked, others covered their mouths or eyes. But Peyton couldn't help but stare. She had only known John Cena for a week. Two weeks, maybe. Time didn't seem to matter anymore, just now. As she ran her right hand down his lifeless face, slipping her left one in to his open hand, it made her feel like her own brother was dead.

Todd ran up, panting. "What the hell happened?"

Then, Peyton was filled with a rage that she couldn't describe. Her legs started shaking, but that didn't stop her from standing up. Her anger made her feel like she was ten feet tall. "One of you did this, and I swear to God that if I ever find out who it is... you'll be sorry." She spoke in a hushed voice, but her tone made the message come across loud and clear.

Again, Peyton burst into tears and collapsed in a heap on the concrete floor. She wasn't afraid anymore. Now, she just felt like kicking the shit out of someone. Randy stooped down to her, wrapping his arms around her. He hoped she wouldn't push him away, and she didn't. Instead, she embraced him back. Her head had once fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, and she used that to hide her face.

Mickie saw him whispering something in her ear, and was growing angrier by the second. That was supposed to be her in Randy's arms. But as she continued to watch, she began to realize how stupid this whole thing was. If she wanted to have Randy, she was going to have to do more than just stand there and scowl. But how far was she willing to go? And had she made a terrible mistake?

Torrie placed a hand on Mickie's back, noticing that her face was beginning to swell where Peyton had hit her. "Mick, what did happen?"

Mickie crossed her arms, "Randy and I came across Peyton and Cena sitting on the staircase. We talked, and we were about to go find Todd because we think we found the boiler room. Then the lights flickered again...then..."

Panic raised over all the girls as they began to cower where they stood. Trish pointed a finger at Randy. "It had to be you!" She cried, backing into a wall.

"That's fucking crazy!" Randy protested, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Is it really? You still want Peyton back, and she was just getting close to John."

Fear rose in Randy's eyes. "Just before you were blaming Mickie. Now me?"

Todd, once again, broke the bickering. "Remember what we talked about before? The important thing here is to get out before anyone else gets killed! Who cares who did it if you're going to live!"

Finding that this was solving nothing, and because her anger was about to get the best of her, Peyton stormed off on her own. Candice, worried about her best friend's mental well-being, ran after her. Randy followed Candice, shooting off menacing glances at Trish as he past, and Mickie followed him.

- - - - - -

Peyton was aware that Candice was following her, but she had no intention of slowing her pace. Instead, she began running through the eerie hallways, searching for her own way out. The more she ran, the more her head throbbed. The more her head throbbed, the more dizzy she became. Still, she pushed on and ran her legs to the limit.

Peyton finally noticed that Candice, no matter how hard she ran, could not catch up to her. Once she was far away enough so that she couldn't hear Candice's footsteps anymore, she found a whole slew of crates that were used to store camera equipment and wedged herself in between them. She let the darkness envelope her, wrapping around her like a blanket and hiding her from all sight.

She waited for Candice to run past, then jumped up and started in the opposite direction. With a loud "thump", and a couple jolting steps backward, Randy ran straight into her. She would have fallen on the floor, but he had caught her just in time.

He held her close, feeling her entire body beginning to shake in his arms. Her fear was just starting to show, her skin turning milky white. Tears began streaming down her cheeks again, but this time they were tears of sadness and not anger. She was afraid for her own well-being, and worst of all, Randy's. She started to say something, but it came out in more of a inaudible whimper. He stopped her in mid-sentence, "Shhh, it's okay..."

"No!" She screamed, pushing him away. He almost cursed himself for opening his mouth. "It's not okay! Two people are dead Randy!"

Mickie had stopped running a long time ago, figuring she would find them sooner or later. And she did. Peyton was screaming at Randy, making a devilish smile slide across Mickie's lips, which she automatically felt ten different kinds of guilt for. There were people dead, and she was happy that an relationship was breaking up. It was already a shattered vase, but Mickie felt that feeling happy about watching this was just her smashing the pieces further. She stopped and turned around, keeping herself just behind the corner. That way, she could hear the goings on, but couldn't be seen.

Peyton was tired of yelling. She was tired of loathing Randy. And she was tired of going to bed by herself at night, and waking up just as alone. She found her hands clutching the hair around her temples, pulling with just enough might to make it hurt, but not enough to pull any out.

So she stopped.

She stopped everything. She stopped yelling. She stopped loathing. She stopped feeling lonely. She stopped regretting. She stopped shaking. And she stopped clutching. Instead, she crossed her arms and stared at him. "You never told me you were sorry."

Randy's eyes grew wide with sympathy. "But I am! Peyton...," He ran his hands down her shoulders until her arms were straight and his hands were closed in hers, "I am sorry for every minute that I didn't spend with you. I regret everything that happened, and I am sorry I ever had to put you through any of this."

She walked away with him, throwing her arms around herself to form her comfort bubble. She suddenly felt the fatigue of running hit her, and her knees began to shake. Needing to sit, desperately, she found the nearest window and hoisted herself up on the sill.

Randy saw her putting her walls up, and decided that he needed to just be silent for a while. She was going to talk when she was ready, and he wasn't going to force it. He found a convenient place on the wall, and slid down to sit on the cold floor.

Peyton hugged her knees to the chest, staring into the dark abyss of the night. The horizon seemed to be glowing with the prospect of day, a golden gleam peeking just over the hill. She just felt like losing herself in the sunrise, hoping that with the daylight would come safety. but then something odd made her really think. Just below the horizon, where she saw the sun rising, she saw another yellow light. A square light, that was only visible for a second before it extinguished. "Randy?"

Randy perked up, "Yeah?"

"What time is it?"

He wasn't sure, but he wanted to keep her talking. So he guessed. "Well, we were in Vince's office around midnight, and it's been around three hours since then. Why?"

"So it's only about three in the morning?"

Something in her voice was telling him that everything just seemed wrong. "What's going on?"

Peyton motioned to him to come sit next to her. When he was securely on the windowsill, she pointed to the supposed sunrise. "I thought that was the sun rising, but if it's only three o'clock it can't be. Randy, those are lights."

He stared blankly at her for a moment, "Todd said there was a blackout. If there was a fucking blackout, those lights wouldn't be on! And... if there ever was a blackout... and the lights came back on, the doors to the arena would open."

Randy perked even more seeing where she was going, but the green lights began to flicker again. Peyton and Randy didn't need to wait for the lights to come back on for them to jump from the window and begin running towards the way Candice had gone. The lights flickering only meant one thing, another casualty. And Candice was alone.

The were right in their suspicions when the lights finally came back on, but only following the loud bang of another life taking gunshot.

- - - - - - -

The gunshot was loud, which meant it was close. They didn't have to run far before Randy and Peyton came across Candice's limp body, prettily laying in a pool of her own blood, a gunshot wound to her head.

Peyton quickly dropped to her knees and vomited.

Todd was surprised by their sudden arrival, but more surprised that Randy was suddenly on top of his, wrestling to get the weapon out of his hands. Still, his hands clung tight around the trigger, causing the gun to misfire several times. One of those times hit Randy in the arm.

He rolled on his side, fingers digging into a hole in his bicep while the rest of him writhed in pain. Todd took the opportunity to compose himself before pointing the smoking pistol at his head. And he smiled.

Peyton pushed herself up from the floor, throwing her arms out in front of her and slamming into his chest just as he fired again, knocking off his aim, but still hitting Randy in the shoulder. Randy let out another scream as Todd quickly overpowered her, pinning her into the floor. "Look what you made me do..." He said, almost laughing.

Peyton closed her eyes, squeezing her lids as tight as possible, as she tried to free herself. No use. He would only push her harder. At least she could say she tried.

Just as she was ready to accept what she thought was her fate, she realized all the pressure that he had applied was no longer there. She jumped up, wheeling around to see Mickie clawing and biting. She quickly searched for Randy, finally seeing him laying on the floor, no longer moving or making a sound. Her heart sank into her stomach, but no tears formed. Instead, she rose to her feet, fists forming so hard her knuckles cracked. She turned to Todd.

He had overpowered Mickie just as easily as he had taken her, but he made one fatal mistake. He turned his back to her. Mickie was on the floor, crab-crawling backwards away from him. His arm was outstretched and the silver death machine pointed in her direction. "You bitch." He giggled, slowing following her movements.

Peyton walked up behind him, let her foot idle for a second, and made contact with his twins. Hard contact. Crippling contact. Todd doubled over, smile wiped from his now wincing face. He dropped the gun to try to help himself. Peyton snatched it up, motioning for Mickie to help her. She stood over him, her feet perfectly placed on his elbows and her knees on his shoulders. The handgun was against his skin, pointed right between his eyes.

well, now you know "who done it". now there's a new question: "why?" that, my friends, is to be revealed next chapter. hope you liked this one!

sorry for the semi-cliffy, too.

Ruby