Rifle

Chapter Seven

At first it was darkness.

Then he was in a hallway- it looked familiar- the hallway of the academy. Usually, the academy never held dances, but it was a special celebration to honor some guest from far away.

She ran up to him, nervous, he had never seen her this shaken up before. It was almost improper: her: not the top of her class but not the lowest either. She had a huge interest in heavy artillery: Grenade launchers and Rocket launchers- anything that used fire and explosions.

"So… you have a date…?" she shifted uncomfortably from heel to heel, her shoulders slouched a little. Avoiding eye contact. Usually, she'd look straight into anyone's eyes- but not now.

"Hm… not really." He shrugged.

"Could I go with you? I-…I mean…if you wouldn't mind…" She bit her lip and looked away, her braces were visible. Someone her age with braces was kind of embarrassing, but it did show off her favorite color: Orange.

"Well…sure" He shrugged again, this time with less emphasis, he looked straight at her.

"R-really?" She perked. Her shoulders held back up, her eyes sparkled a bit, and she finally looked up into his eyes- full of hope and wonder.

"Of course." He smiled. Who knew, he was about to ask her the same thing. She had started to walk away in the sunlight; he saw the bright orange bow tied in her brown hair. It was a strange thing for someone who love explosions so much.
"I'll see you there, Ravel?" He turned towards her again, putting another textbook in his locker.

"You can call me by my first name." she turned around; face blank and stared at him.

"I'll see you there, Elizah?" He grinned.

"You bet." She smiled the brightest smile she had ever smiled at him, it was probably also because of the sunlight let in by the windows…or maybe it wasn't.

It was dark outside. The wind blew in a line- never stopping or starting again- but continually going on and on. She didn't like heels, he could tell in the way she pursed her lips when she walked.

Her fingers running up and down her arms in the cold, her small goose bumps evident even in the night. She wore a sleek black dress that shaped her all to well.

Is it just me or did her…uh…get…
Stop it! Stop thinking about that you man-whore!
He hit himself in the forehead. What am I doing? I haven't known her long enough to think about thinking about thinking about that!

She had red ribbons tied in her hair that blew in the night wind.
The walked in the building together, hand in hand.
Maybe that was the first spark, maybe not.

The party was very formal- not much dancing- but the academy students referred to it as a dance. The food was formal. The Champaign was formal.
Everything was formal.
The special guest that they welcomed was dressed in a white tuxedo- a black necktie neatly hung around his neck- like a professional person dressed him up. The name blurred, was he the only one that didn't hear it? No one else flinched. The world was spinning a little; it all seemed surreal for a moment.

Everything went back to normal, and he immediately forgot about the lack of normalcy. He drank some Champaign- but not too much. He had to drive back to his apartment later. He felt strange- was he drunk? Or was something else going on? He felt like he was watching a movie of himself. He could feel himself above the party and above the crowds.

Normal again. He sighed, and again he forgot about what had gone on.
He saw Kyle from across the room and waved. Kyle ignored him. No, that's not right…he was supposed to wave back.

Kyle was chasing tail- or more accurately- he was chasing Miss Kitsume. He followed that girl around like a lost puppy. Bant didn't see her as anything special- she was a sharp shooter, real accurate, but she was always distant and sometime rude and mean. He couldn't understand why Kyle didn't want someone who was sweet…
…Like Elizah. He pushed the thought away, what was he thinking?
Kyle never cared about appearances, though; he just always cared about Kitsume.
Maybe he's on a better track than I am.

He sipped. Even though he entered with Elizah, he couldn't find her. Where'd she go? He looked around the crowds, he couldn't see any red bows hopping, jumping, skipping or dancing. He sighed. Maybe she's in the bathroom or something.

Glass still to his mouth, he turned around and almost jumped backwards. Behind him, now blushing pink- was the girl with red ribbons. Her face had as much shock as his.

Did she know it was me she was approaching? Why is she blushing?

"Are you crazy? I almost spilled this all over myself!" he scolded her, throwing her a confused look. I held the Champaign glass up towards her, so it was at her eye level. Her face went back a few inches. She had a huge bubble of personal space obviously.

"I-…I'm sorry!" She covered her hands over her mouth, and looked down at her feet. She blushed even more. She looked worried and almost upset.

Was it because I scolded her?

He sighed and brought the Champaign glass back to himself. It shimmered.
"It's okay, I'm sorry…" he rubbed his forehead.

She looked back up again, her curious brown eyes dancing back and forth across the room. She smiled and looked at him again "Maybe you need some fresh air?" Without his reply, she pulled him by the arm towards the front door. He almost struggled against her at first, but then he decided to go with her outside. Maybe there was a logical reason to it, maybe there wasn't. He was curious.

The doors opened silently and they slipped outside-the cool air bombarded them again.

"So…it's cold, right?"

"Yeah."

"What do you think of the honored guest?"

"hm… he seems nice, but maybe a little fake behind that smile of his." He shrugged. It was the answer she was looking for- an answer with honesty. An answer that wasn't afraid to be spoken.

"What about the Champaign?"

"Pretty nice…have you had any?" he shrugged and looked at her again, she just stood still, her face in blank expression.

"I'm younger than you are." She pursed her lips.

It threw them into a silence. He wanted to say something more, but he didn't know what to say. It wasn't what she said that caused silence. They seemed to run out of conversation- but something was on her mind- something she was fighting against. They could hear the Jazz-like music that played from inside, which made it almost serene to out there in the freezing weather.

"You've been acting different lately…" She avoided eye contact. "I just want to know if it's because I'm annoying or because I'm weird…" She stared at her hands- popping her fingers one by one- not to intimidate- but to distract herself.

"Y-" he tried to speak, but she cut him off.

"I mean…It's okay…nobody really likes me…" Her eyes looked shiny, even from her profile view he had, he could tell she was gathering tears from some unknown corner of her being. He had never seen her this sad before- even though she always seemed a little sad.

"You're only annoying and weird when you talk like that!" He blurted out; it was a little too loud and caught both of them by surprise. She straight at him with wide eyes- caught in the same frozen gaze. She didn't move.

"You're my friend." He wanted to say, it was what he said in his memory, but his words were caught in his throat. Words wouldn't work anymore, somehow. Her face still frozen- it was as if time itself froze. He felt light-headed.

Something was wrong. Her pause should have only been for but a few seconds. She screamed and pointed behind him. He saw blood dripping from her mouth. She had knives protruding from her neck. Her head started to hand limply to her side-but she was still alive somehow. Still moving undead like a flood. This wasn't what I remembered- this wasn't happening- this didn't happen!

He turned around to where she was pointing to- he saw Kyle and Aron, covered in flood, morphing into creatures unknown. He turned back to Elizah, who was still screaming- somehow she maintained the same pitch and squeal as her mouth closed and flipped into an eerie smile that literally stretched from ear to ear in sharp, pointed teeth. Her eyes turning red- her hair caught in some strange hue between brown and green, her neck twisting like an owls and wrinkling in circles.

He stepped back, terrified. He bumped into Aron and Kyle, and their arms sunk into his back. He couldn't tell whose hand it was that went through his neck and through his skull to through his cheek to cover his mouth. Elizah's skin bubbled like Flood as she loomed into some ridiculously tall creature. Her smile and eyes still stuck on her face as her hands stretched into long and sharp knives.

He closed his eyes as she swung at him. Once again, he felt away from it all- as he saw himself die.

His eyes opened. He was panicking, sweating.
Why would a simple nightmare scare me that bad?

He looked up; there was a white room around him. He could've sworn he saw someone leaning over him…Blue hair… Elizah?
Yellow eyes…

…No…not Elizah…

Then it all went dark…and it looped- the circumstances and setting getting worse. He was in a dark room alone again.

This time, he was at home.
He circled the rug, and no matter how he wanted to stop, he couldn't- he circled the rug. He was a ten-year-old boy- walking around a rug. Stuck in infinite motion.
He heard a door slam, but he kept walking.
Elizah walked in as a young girl- or at least, what he imagined she looked like as a young girl. She had long hair.
Why did he imagine that of her?

She giggled as his mom walked in and greeted her.
She drew a gun.
Elizah shot his mother in the forehead.

Elizah shot herself through the ear.

Then Elizah shot him in the neck- still giggling- still squirming on the floor half alive.
Her giggles echoed a thousand times as she created more. The floor turning red, his mother wouldn't move, and he could feel the pain burning in his neck as he lay on the floor. He couldn't scream, move, or speak.

His limbs detached themselves from him and circled around the red carpet, while his half-lifeless body lied in the middle.

His mother was crying, Elizah was laughing- it was all echoing through the house like a huge cave. Elizah shot his mother again, and she screamed out in pain.
He tried to move, he tried to do something.
His mother moved up from her red spot in the floor, and wobbled over to him.

"Why won't you help me?" she screamed. She grabbed him by the neck and shook him- shook him until he could feel the bullet bouncing around more inside his neck. His mother clawed and tore at his flesh. She was strangling him.

Elizah fired again.

His mother's blood landed on him and she screamed in agony. Elizah just laughed louder to every scream emitted. Is she saving me? No. She shot me. She's laughing.

It was white again, then black.

Alone? No. Something's going to happen again.

Something happened again.

Each time, more people he loved died before his eyes- more people he looked up to.

A burning building collapsing on top of him- He could feel his skin burning in the flames. He could feel pain that should have killed him already. His shoulder burned the worst.

White- Dark- new place- new time- new age- new horrors- new people dying.
Each time in the white room he fought to stay awake.
After many tries, it finally worked. He was awake.
Or am I still dreaming?
His eyes adjusted and he sat up. He was in a bed somewhere. It was too dark to tell where.
He couldn't tell where he was anymore.
His shoulder still hurt- burned- was it from the fire dream?

Or am I still dreaming?

He fell back into a pillow; he didn't expect one to be there, honestly. He saw her sleeping in a chair by the wall, her blue hair shadowing her face. He couldn't remember when she first dyed it. He smiled.
Everything is okay, he told himself.

Or am I still dreaming?

He drifted back into sleep, which only brought back new nightmares.