BONES
The Demon in the Dark
I do not own Bones or the characters
Rated T for violence, etc.
Wendell just so happens to be my favourite intern. xP He's adorable!
Oh yeah. This is before Brennan's pregnancy/Vincent's death even though Vincent doesn't appear in the story.
Or maybe he will. I don't know yet.
Hodges POV
When Wendell hadn't come back after a few minutes, he began to get annoyed. What was the kid doing, throwing a party in the back of the van?
He waited a bit longer.
"Oh, come on," he complained, finally giving up his lone search to find his missing colleague. He was puzzled when he reached the side of the van and saw that Wendell wasn't even there. Did he go for a -
He blanched when he saw that the evidence locker on the side of the truck had been repeatedly bashed with something hard - some kind of metal, probably - and that the evidence was gone. Wendell obviously would never do that... So did that mean...? He spun wildly, searching.
"Wendell? Hey, Wendell!"
He would tell the kid all the time, usually teasingly, that he was just some silly kid who didn't belong in the lab. But they both knew it wasn't true. They were colleagues, but more than that, they were friends.
He looked across the street, shivering fiercely now.
Shit, shit, he thought. He was too worked up to realize he was swearing, and he neverswore! What had happened? Had he run off? Had someone, presumably the killer, attacked? Wendell would never run off with evidence. Not to mention there was nowhere to run to. He began to head down the road, looking at every mark on the ground. He reached for his phone and found is soaking wet - damned Jeffersonian coats made of crappy material because of the cheapo government!
"Wendell!" He shouted desperately.
It was no use.
He slipped, twisting his ankle and falling hard to the muddy roadside as he stepped in a hole... A hole?
He blinked through the pain in his ankle to stare at the tire marks of a heavy vehicle, which had obviously sped off in quite a hurry.
Oh, God, no, he thought.
Wendell POV
His dreams were dark and swam chaotically. The world was dark and unfamiliar, and his head... God it hurt! He could hardly think through the haze of exhaustion (ironically he was exhausted in his sleep) of pain. But he could still dream.
His dreams were a strange collage of things.
Panic. Flashing roadways and lights of other cars. They were speeding along and he could have sworn there were blue lights flashing. It was raining. Lightning flashed and the scenery changed. They were driving more slowly now, and the rain had stopped. He could see out the window and there was nothing but forestry - no sign of human habitation. Somehow he wasn't able to feel fear anymore. In fact, he couldn't feel anything except the pain ricocheting in his skull. Staring out a the forest, he could have sworn he saw a terrifying creature that was nothing but skin hanging from bone and red eyes, but that was probably the concussion. He acknowledged that he had a concussion, but didn't have the interest, energy, or mental ability to explore it any further.
He closed his eyes and tried to rescue himself deeper in to dreams.
His side hurt suddenly. His ribs were searing with fire that made him groan and try to wriggle away from the fire that was pressing in to his side. Either it followed, or he wasn't able to move.
His eyes drifted open slowly.
Seeing as almost impossible. He was looking through a cloud, and his hearing was a megaphone amplifying all sound and sending it rocking off the walls of his skull. Heartbeat. That hurt too. Mostly because it was too loud. That, and it felt as though it was beating in the back of his neck, rendering him next to immobile.
"You're awake!" A gleeful voice made him jump.
He moved his eyes instinctively towards the sound of the voice, noting the dark figure of an enormous man crouching before him.
"Who are you?" His voice sounded raspy, even to his own ears. How long had he been out? Better yet, where in the world was he? He wondered why he hadn't thought about that before now.
"That's what they all ask. 'Who are you,' or 'Where am I,' or 'What are you doing.' Why does it matter?"
The voice took on a maniacal edge.
His heart began to race and for the first time he was beginning to understand. This man. He hit me over the head? Does that mean... He tried to sit up but immediately grew dizzy and was forced to relax again. Is this the serial killer?The thought seemed more terrifying to him now than it had before. How things changed according to the situation...
"This is a little game that I like to play. I'm the hunter, you're the prey. But hey - I have an advantage. I'll give you a head start. Run. Run.
Pure terror was enough to make him lurch to his feet. He was wobbly and the movement blurred his vision even more. The killer pushed him hard, saying "run now!" and he fell flat on his back. Groaning at the protest in his skull, he shuffled sideways on his hands and knees, using the wall as a guide to prop himself up. Feeling the killer's amused, hungry eyes on him, he staggered like a drunk in the first direction he could, for no purpose other than to get away.
OC POV
Kidnapping the lab rat had been a last second decision. He had been stunned to find that his bloody tissue had survive so long. He knew he had to get rid of it.
He had planned only on knocking out the kid and destroying the evidence. But seeing the lab rat lying unconscious in the dirt had given him better ideas. His next game - a higher level. This one would be missed. This one would make the police go crazy. Besides. The kid fit his... appetite. Young, on the 'fragile' side, and easy to bring back to the perfect place to hold his game.
Given that the kid was hardly capable of moving, he would give him an hour head start before the real games began.
Patiently, he sat in his chair and waited, knowing that the lab rat had no chance of getting away.