Hetalia - Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 9, and we are back in the saddle! I can only apologise for the delays, uni work keeps distracting me. Regardless, let's get back into it.

Enjoy!

Terra City, Spades District, The Kirkland Residence.

Alfred Jones awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fidgety under the astounded stares of Dylan and Seamus Kirkland; the two auburn haired brothers sat on the apartment's cream horseshoe party sofa with slack jaws while he stood at the front below the plasma TV, their eyes locked onto the white star emblemed on his navy suit. Allistor stood over by the dining table, a soft smile of encouragement lingering on his face when Alfred had began his story to the three. Dylan and Seamus hadn't said a word throughout it, only stare.

Before he had even started though, he had called Matthew and introduced him to the Kirklands as his coordinator…Matthew had not been happy of this development, yelling at Alfred for exposing himself before Allistor had stepped in and explained the entire situation. His twin had remained quiet after that, and had stayed it throughout Alfred's speech; the irritated bitter kind. Alfred feared for the storm that would come when the Kirklands were out of earshot.

Silence drew out long after he had finished and Alfred's tongue was barren, swearing that the room had somehow been drained of oxygen. He swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat and his pupil's darted quickly between his audience, unsure how to continue, when Seamus gave out a deafening roar of a laugh.

'Bloody hell, ain't this something! You're actually him. You're actually Columbia!' He grinned and Alfred offered his own sheepish one, immensely glad they hadn't taken badly to the news.

Dylan regarded him with interest and pursued his lips. 'Colour me impressed. It mustn't have been easy, doing the whole hero gig with only the two of you. But I have to ask Alfred, how did you manage to fund your gear? I designed Britannia's suit and equipment, I know how expensive it is to do so.'

Alfred felt his stomach drop into his feet and squared his jaw. Dylan had tread onto a sensitive topic, one he didn't want to discuss. But on the other hand, if Alfred was being honest with himself, actually talking about being Columbia relieved some weight he hadn't realised he had been carrying. It felt good to share a secret that only Matthew had previously known, and if he was going to share it, he was going to share it all.

'When Matt's and mine parents…disappeared, I was in a bad place. We needed money so I— I participated in underground cage matches. No rules, no health and safety, no nice paramedics on the side if you hit too hard. Most people broke quick, and there were… there were some matches where I would literally have to fight for my life.'

All eyes were still anchored on him, but now, they were wide with horror. Make no mistake, the Kirklands were not unaware of the brutality and danger of the underworld. Hell, since they had been kids, they had learnt how to live in it. But that was what made all the difference; they had had Victoria Kirkland to train and guard them against the worst of that darkness, Alfred hadn't. Alfred had been normal, an innocent citizen who had been driven down under through sheer desperation.

'How old were you?' Seamus asked with a softness that questioned whether he truly wanted to know the answer.

Alfred bit the inside of his cheek. 'Sixteen. A lot of sick bastards paid big to see a kid in the ring.' He gingerly confessed, and the brothers visibly recoiled at the image.

'Jesus,' Allistor hissed. 'I'm so sorry lad.'

Alfred gave a half heartened shrug. It was a faded scar now, he had moved on. 'Well, y'know. Hey, I at least learnt how to defend myself. My coach, he—he was a good guy.' He stammered, his tongue swelling up like a balloon again.

'Was?' Dylan frowned.

'He- he died helping me get out when I was in too deep.' Alfred shivered and wrapped his arms over each other; keen to change the direction of the conversation. The brothers took the initiative and Seamus cleared his throat loudly.

'So Columbia, super strength huh?'

Alfred gave a huff of a laugh and breezily shook his head. 'Man, I've had it since I was born. I never even knew it was considered super until I punched down a concrete wall in a fight. Matt was the only one who knew.'

'And you're sure you aren't Lucid?' Allistor questioned and Alfred shook his head.

'No way dude. I've never been able to do anything on the levels that Britannia and that kid who attacked the school can do.'

'Talking of that kid, was he the one who tore up Britannia?' Seamus asked directly to Alfred.

Alfred gave a half shrug. 'I— I dunno. Honestly, the last time I saw them, they were fighting and the kid slammed Britannia into the gymnasium.'

'That would explain the heavy bruising on Britannia's back,' Allistor growled, his expression dark. 'There was also dark bruising around his neck. The little fuck must of strangled him.'

A violent chill rode down Alfred's spine, sending rippling goosebumps over his flesh. That kid, he strangled Britannia? As his stomach churned, Allistor's stare bore into his.

'Alfred, is there anything else you remember? Anything at all?' He said and Alfred dropped his gaze to the floor as he struggled to recall, when he suddenly remembered an oddity that his panic-ridden brain hadn't properly registered.

'When I found Britannia, there was a giant cat skeleton near him.'

'A cat? Gimme your goggles and I'll see if I can play the video feedback.' Dylan offered and Alfred handed them over. The second youngest brother pulled his laptop onto his knees and set to work to connect the device together with a mess of wires.

'Yeah, a cat. It was huge and there was—there was a lot of blood. I think Britannia had managed to kill it, but that was what could of clawed him.' Alfred clarified and there was a clear beep as the TV turned on to show the footage captured by Columbia's goggle camera. Dylan dragged his mouse to rewind the video, the scenes flashing in reverse order, and Alfred winced at the still fresh memory of believing Britannia to be dead.

Allistor made a thoughtful noise as he drew closer to climb over the sofa and sit beside Seamus. 'Could the wee bastard have summoned this beast?'

Alfred watched as they got to the point when he had donned his suit and had ran back towards the gym. The hallways of wandering students and vines skimmed past as though they were playing a first person shooter. 'No, plants were the kid's deal. He could control them with his brain or some junk.'

'Then where did the bloody cat come from then?' Seamus exclaimed just as they watched as Alfred burst into the gym of carnage. It was as Alfred had described, and over by where Britannia lay face down, was undeniably a skeleton of a gigantic cat. All of them narrowed their eyes as Dylan zoomed and enhanced the image.

'Definitely not something of this world,' Dylan stated, before his eyebrows shot up. 'uh-oh.'

'Uh-oh? What 'uh-oh'?' Allistor demanded and Dylan said nothing, but tapped at his keyboard to bring up what he had read. A digital scan of a police report on the incident appeared to overlap the video image, with the highlighted words among the text: an unidentifiable body of a child was found in the gymnasium without his head.

The room swayed around Alfred as he desperately tried to remember seeing the boy when he had entered the gym, but all he could think of was the all consuming grief at seeing Britannia laying in a pool of blood.

'Here.' Dylan quietly announced and brought up the boy's autopsy report: male, estimated nine years old. Estimated time of death, between one o'clock and half one. Body showed signs of bruising and abuse. Cause of death: decapitation; the special notes read that the neck break was made by no tool, the tear of the skin and fracture of bone was jagged and uneven, akin to the marks made by an animal attack.

'Pictures.' Allistor requested, and no one breathed when they appeared on screen. It was as Alfred had seen it, save the exception of missing sleeping students. There was blood everywhere, and Alfred could see the smears where he had knelt and moved Britannia; an trail of red footprints led out of the doors outside into the car park. Surrounded by yellow and black police tape, the boy attacker's corpse lay only a short distance away from where Britannia had collapsed, indeed headless, but that was not what made Alfred gasp aloud.

'The cat's skeleton, it's gone!'

'What?' Allistor hissed but Seamus nodded in agreement.

'No, he's right. There's nothing there where we had seen it.' The Irish man confirmed and Dylan toggled the screen so that the images were side by side. A twisted spot the difference, with the cat's skeleton clearly gone in the TPD's crime scene pictures. There was a morbid beat of a pause.

'Okay, so what does this mean?' Alfred broke the awful silence and looked to Allistor to see his jaw square.

'It means that there was a third party involved. Someone, or something, Lucid attacked Britannia.' He affirmed grimly and Alfred turned back to screen.

'Can't we— I dunno, pull up Britannia's feed and find out what happened?'

'That was the first thing I tried. No luck, the data was corrupted. It happens sometimes when Britannia uses extraneous amounts of his magic.' Dylan shot down.

Alfred's disappointment subsided with the memory of the fantastical sword he had seen Britannia sword. He would never forget that image soon. 'He did summon this bad-ass powerful sword. Cut through everything like it was butter, and it could shoot out these crazy light waves! Excalibur, I think he called it,' Alfred rabbled, when he realised that the Kirklands were deadpan staring at him. 'What?'

'Excalibur? He summoned Excalibur?' Seamus cried and Alfred looked around was a raised questioning eyebrow; lost.

The Scot sighed. 'It's only his most powerful weapon in his magic arsenal. Poor laddie, must have been desperate to summon it.'

'I hate this,' Dylan muttered, 'Not knowing what is going on.'

Allistor leant right and clapped him on the back. 'That makes three of us, but right now, we have to focus on the plan. As soon as he can walk, Britannia will want to spring it.'

'Spring what?' Alfred inquired and the three brothers shared a guarded look. A lightbulb lit up for Alfred when he recalled his and Britannia's argument on the beach the night before. 'He's going after Doctor Edelstein's research, isn't he? Britannia's going to try to break into Nova labs.'

There was another beat of pause before Seamus scoffed. 'Busted.'

'You can't be serious' Matthew rebuked, breaking his stubborn silence and Allistor cracked his knuckles.

'Aye, we are plenty serious. In fact, we've got everything pretty much figured. Except for one thing…'

Dylan tapped a button and a holographic blueprint appeared above the glass coffee table. Allistor got off the sofa and took a step forward, and Alfred felt the air take a dramatic shift. The Scot had such an authoritative aura about him (that Alfred had already felt when he had acted as a nurse under him) that it made the American naturally want to listen.

'This,' Allistor gestured to the hologram, 'is the internal structure of Nova labs. Five tier building, three above ground, two below, only accessible by elevator.'

He gave Dylan a nod and with a few clicks, he made the hologram rotate and zoom in on the second level; connected to the hallway that the core elevator arrived at, was what looked like a garage door. Allistor pointed to it.

'Now, that, there is the kicker. IMT Max security vault door. Made from titanium and steel, it weighs in at 2,700kg, or 2 tons. The same weight as an elephant. The door cannot be hacked in the little time Britannia will have.'

'How do you plan to get him in there then?' Matthew sneered.

'Well, we were originally going to have Britannia try to cut through with a high powered drill, but now,' Allistor crossed his arms, before looking suggestively at Alfred, 'I think there's a better way in.'

Alfred stared back blankly for a full minute, before his jaw dropped. He pointed to himself as though Allistor had been mistaken.

'Me?!'

'What?!' Matthew's, Seamus' and Dylan's cries all came shortly after. Allistor rolled his eyes.

'Unless anyone else in this room has super strength.' He smirked sarcastically and all at once, everyone in an uproar.

'You're actually implying—!'

'It's brilliant!'

'There is no way Alfred would be able to lift that much!' Matthew protested the loudest and Alfred took that as a blow to his pride as Columbia. Allistor's confidence, was undiminished.

'Not without proper training he won't.'

'You can't just ask him to break into private property!' Matthew persisted, and Alfred knew it was time to step in.

He totally got that what Allistor was asking him to do was illegal, and he knew that heroes didn't break the law. But really, when you stepped back to look at the larger picture; Alfred would be assisting in Britannia's efforts to track down the missing neuroscientists. They just had to a little bad to do a lot of good. And, if Alfred was being true to his feelings, this was the chance he had been dreaming of since becoming Columbia; the once in a lifetime chance to be at Britannia's side as a partner, to have his back when things got rough.

'It's okay Matt. I want to help,' He reassured and could practically feel his twin's scowl of disapproval. 'And if this is what it takes to find the missing scientists, then so be it.'

He heard a sigh of defeat over the line and Seamus beamed at him. 'Well said! Well said!'

'Aye! Glad to have you on board laddie!,' Allistor grinned before his tone turned serious. 'and I hate to cut the happy moment short, but if you're going to lift that door, we're going to have to start your training right away.'

'Which programme are you going to use?' Dylan asked over his screen.

'Heracles.' Allistor answered without missing a beat and Alfred felt his gut twist when he saw Seamus and Dylan grimace. Uh-oh.

'Good luck. You're gonna need it.' Seamus pitied with a sympathetic look that told Alfred he was not going to be in for a easy time.

Allistor cleared his throat loudly and clapped his hands once for attention. 'Alright boys, time to get to work. Dylan, now that Britannia has Columbia with him on the field, work with Williams to adjust the plan accordingly. Seamus, check in with Reina on Britannia's progress and then prep Britannia's other suit and get the rest of the gear together. Alfred, follow me downstairs. We begin immediately.'

Seven Years Ago, Russia, The Central Siberian Plateau.

.
A-…..

…Arthur!

HMPF!

Arthur Kirkland's eyes snapped open, dazed and still half asleep. The world swam around him in an unfocused swarm of blended dark colours. What? Where was he? Above him, a dark shape loomed above him, pining his wrists against his chest. An attack!

'N-no!' Arthur choked as he thrashed against the grip of his attacker, crunching his body into a jackknife to throw them. His attacker gave a grunt before redoubling his efforts.

'Arthur! Arthur, calm down! It's me, it's Seamus!' The shape cried, and Arthur blinked up at him furiously to have his elder brother's face tune into focus. Seamus stared back down at him, and only when Arthur regained control of his breathing, did he release his hold on his wrists. Slowly, his chest still heaving, Arthur pushed himself up to sitting in his bunk and shot out an arm to catch himself when a groan of metal and a shuddering jolt threatened to throw him out.

Arthur's bearings returned to him. He was travelling in an arctic Military Humvee, equipped with tank Mattracks treads for snowbound cross-country and camouflaged to match. While he slept on one of the two double bunks, Seamus beside him, his mother and eldest big brother sat up front, shotgun and driver respectively. The creaking interior space was cramped but clean (Victoria did not tolerant to anything other than militaristic discipline in her pride) and the powerful engine constantly rumbled as it carried it's passengers across the unforgiving winter plains of Russia.

'Bloody hell, is your head screwed on now?' Seamus huffed as he sat down heavily on the opposite bunk and looked his brother up and down. Like all of them, he was fitted in his black thermal suit and snow boots.

'Maybe you shouldn't of tried to wake me like that when you knew I was mediating.' Arthur argued with a glare as he swung his still booted feet off the side of the bunk to mirror Seamus' posture.

'Arthur, I'd been trying to wake you for the past five minutes. When I thought I was getting somewhere, you started speaking in tongues!' Seamus hissed back and jumped when a auburn head swung out from the bunk above Arthur.

'Arthur's speaking tongues?!' Dylan exclaimed loudly and drew out a hiss from Arthur when his mother's head snapped back to them from the passenger's seat.

'What?' Victoria demanded as she unbuckled herself out the seat and waded her way to stand in the archway connecting to the back. Her eyes narrowed as they alternated between the three Kirklands.

'What 'tongues'?' She asked again with bite and after a moment, Seamus reached into his pocket and withdrew a voice recorder. When he handed it over, Arthur shot him a look of betrayal even as his mother shot him one before she clicked the play button.

'Hatetr. Hatetr, I dno't wnat to paly any lgeonr. Og em tel!' Arthur heard his own voice slur, and felt his stomach drop when he saw an unbridled fury harden on his mother's face that the gibberish.

'Allistor pull over. Now.' Victoria growled and grabbed Arthur by the arm with a vice grip to yank him upright.

'Ma'am?' Allistor questioned as he cut the engine and the Humvee slowed to a stop. The second it did, Victoria dragged Arthur towards the door, opened it and then threw her son outside into the snow.

Arthur stumbled to find his feet and immediately assaulted by violent shivers as the subzero wind cut through him to the core. They had stopped alongside a dense pinewood forest, a desolate timber mill on the border. From the overhead dark grey clouds, fat clumps of snowflakes fell and made it difficult to see beyond about five feet. His mother emerged from the Humvee as a wrathful goddess, the cream of her skin luminous against the radiant gold mane of her hair.

'Who. Is. Hatter?' She snarled as she advanced on Arthur, who could not help but cringe away at her ferocity. From the Humvee, Dylan, Seamus and Allistor watched with furrowed brows; they knew better than to get between her and Arthur when she went into terminator mode.

'What?' Arthur squeaked under her painful grip when she grabbed him by the shoulders, and suppressed a cry when she shook him hard.

'You said 'Hatter, I don't want to play any longer. Let me go'. Also I'll ask again, who is Hatter?' Victoria interrogated, the innate maternal need to protect her child manifesting as fire behind her amber eyes.

Arthur's brain scrambled for an answer. Let me go? Was that what he had said? In the three years since they had met Hatter- Hatter had always been kind to him. He had helped Arthur push the limits of what he had thought possible with his magic. He had helped him create Excalibur, they had built Wonderland together. Had Hatter been forcibly keeping him under? Why would he?

'H-He's my friend,' Arthur stuttered, unable to think of anything else. 'He helps me with my magic.'

His mother's eyes narrowed. 'That's…not possible Arthur. Our abilities are exclusively unique. There is no one alive who could mimic your magic.'

Arthur reflective recoiled, and immediately regretted it when he saw his mother's horrified face. 'Arthur.' She cautioned.

'Hatter he- isn't technically alive.' Arthur muttered while looking to the ground, when a pitched howl turned all eyes to the forest.

Victoria's hand had already unsheathed her blade before the wolf's howl could finish. Even as she pivoted with fluidity to place herself between Arthur and line of trees, she heard the growl of the Humvee's ignition over the rushed cocking of guns. Behind her, Arthur caught a thrown pistol and wordlessly pressed it into her freehand.

She checked it's magazine for the bullet count and held it over the blade when she heard Arthur gasp. 'Someone's coming out of the mill.' He warned, and Victoria glanced over to see that his vision was keen. A figure trudged through the snow towards them. From what Victoria could gather, it was a young man with his features disguised by the heavy snowfall; his form was hunched forward against the wind with his head down.

'Orders, Ma'am.' Allistor called over from the driver's window, the foxglove's spare semiautomatic extended out and aimed on the figure.

'Hold.' Victoria barked and whipped back towards the treelike when a chorus of growls rippled from a pack of wolves that emerged from the trees; grizzled snouts pulled back to reveal slobbering yellow fangs.

'Of course. Of course there are bloody wolves.' Dylan snarked from behind her and Victoria heard the familiar clicks of safety locks being thumbed back. Her own gun never wavering from the canines, Victoria kept her face professionally neutral and her eyes shifted to the young man when he slowed to a stop about five feet away from them.

The boy looked like death. His skin, bloodless and so dry that it cracked and flaked away in large shreds. His eyes, bulbous with no pupil nor iris; a fermented moon reflected on a dead lake. Dark lines of thick blood trailed down from the corners of them and more from it's chapped blue lips and nostrils.

'Stay behind me,' Victoria ordered to her son before she turned her gun on the demented being. 'Not another step stranger!'

The stranger swayed on it's feet, and Victoria resisted the chills that ran down her spine when she realised what was truly causing them. Not the morbid, undead appearance, but rather where should of been the man's flaming consciousness, was nothing; nothing but an endless, starless void. By that fact, the person should be dead, and yet there it stood, moving.

A cheshire cat smile curled onto the stranger's face, and when it held up a rotten hand, the wolves' snarling ceased. Victoria thumbed back the safety off her pistol and aimed the barrel for the space between his eyes. A demonstration of power like that could only suggest some kind of power like that she and Arthur possessed. To say they were Lucid would be to say that they had consciousness, which Victoria knew they didn't.

'Who are you?' She demanded and heard a soft crunch of underfoot snow when Arthur stepped out from behind her.

'H-Hatter?' Arthur breathed, and Victoria had to catch herself from reactively pulling the trigger.

'What?!'

'Hatter's' grin grew wider. 'I'm so pleased that you were able to recognise me Arthur~,' His voice drooled, raspy and cracking in places as though his throat were hoarse. 'I was afraid you wouldn't. Non-consensual vessels fall apart so quickly.'

Victoria's blood chilled in her veins, and decided that the madness had gone on long enough.

The gunshot exploded as the bullet was spat out and impaled itself itself between the stranger's brows; snapping his head back with a sickening crack! The smoking barrel was already being lowered when the impossible happened.

'Ow.' Hatter deadpanned and rightened the corpse, frostbitten fingers reached up to prod at the stream of blood and brain tissue oozing from the new bullet hole in his dying vessel. 'Perfect. Now I have to rush this.' He growled before fixing his venomous sights on the one who had shot him.

Victoria stood frozen, temporarily paralysed by the abandonment of all thought, and stared at the unearthly abomination; the abomination that had spent large quantities of time with her child doing god-knows-what.

'Hatter! H-how can you be here?' Arthur cried as he gripped onto Victoria's arm, his own uncontrollably trembling while his breaths were erratic.

Hatter cracked his head and smiled eerily. 'New trick love,' He purred in an unmistakeable British accent, not unlike Arthur's own. 'Tell you all about it when we pick up where we left off, before we were so rudely interrupted.'

Victoria felt Arthur shrink back behind her cover, and she raised her gun again. 'He's not going anywhere with you demon.' She hissed and took aim. The monster, Hatter, had said that it was on a time limit after she had shot it through the skull; that implied that it's possession could only hold if the brain was still intact, regardless if the body wasn't. A wink of a smirk ghosted her lips. The old saying held true: if it bleeds, it can be killed.

The Hatter's decaying face contorted into a snarl. 'I won't let you tear us apart. I won't let you!' He shrieked, and the stationary wolves sprang. As a hail of bullets let rip on the line of wolves that charged, downing several before they had even made it out of the trees, Victoria was already moving in on Hatter. To her surprise, the demon in man's flesh moved to intercept her before she could fire another bullet, fainting left and lashed out a kick to knock the gun from her hand.

Rolling with the momentum that curled her sideways, Victoria twirled her knife into the icepick grip and leapt in a three-sixty turn to drive the blade into the prone Hatter's left breast. The man didn't have the courtesy to scream when she followed up with a palm strike and shoved the blade through the bastard's ribcage with a crack into his still heart. The strike's force, however, was enough to send him back a step, and Victoria did not permit a pause as she leapt high and tackled the body into the snow; wrenching the blade out of the gored chest and thrusting it downward to stab the leaking glutton liquid that used to be a brain through the bullet hole she had made.

Hatter gave a garbled, guttural wet laugh, a burst of blood spray from swollen lips spat in a spray against Victoria, who simply gripped and twisted the blade's handle painfully in response. Hatter stared up at her manically.

'And you call me a demon!' He hysterically giggled as Victoria looked down at him with complete disgust.

'The truth. What are you?'

A smug smile curled Hatter's lips, and Victoria pressed down on the bloody opening that had pierced his heart to draw out a hiss from him (morbidly ironic when he had a knife in his skull).

'Hsk-! You want to know what I am? I'm the fucking fourth dimension given thought. I'm the astral plane, the mindscape, the land of dreams. I am the Void, and I am the one that the ones like you draw your powers from! You think you're important? That you're special?' The Hatter shrieked, too caught up in his speech to care if she understood him. 'Every single one of you maggots are the same. You reach into me, and draw me out to use me, mould me in the shape of your will. Never once, did any of you ever reach out, ever try to do more than what was already set.'

Victoria doubled the pressure she applied on the Hatter's heart. 'What the hell does this have to do with my son?' She hissed lowly, and felt her stomach churn when the Hatter's face lit up in euphoria.

'Arthur~, ah, my very reason for being. Ha— Metaphorically, and literally.'

'What?'

Hatter smiled cruelly up at a stunned Victoria. 'Crazy concept, isn't it? A dimensional plane of existence being given an identity. Able to think, to comprehend self awareness. It goes against all rationality, but that's the thing with omnipotence, if it can be thought, it's completely possible.'

What could Victoria say? What could anyone when faced with that? Taking advantage of her stupefied state, Hatter minimally leant up and lowered his voice to a secretive tone.

'So my dear lioness, do you understand how utterly screwed you are if you try to stand against me? Try to keep me and my beloved Arthur apart? Think you can kill a god? He is mine, as I am his, and it is only because I hold a strand of appreciation that you were the one that brought him into this world for me, that I am ready to offer you salvation.

Turn him over to me, and I will be sated to let you live out the rest of your short continuance. Refuse, and I will kill you all before dragging Arthur away screaming through your blood,'

His eyes broke away from Victoria's to lock onto something else a distance behind her. 'Don't worry love, I'll never stop, I won't falter until the ones that that try to shield you from me are dead. This I promi—' But Hatter's speech was cut short as the impaled knife was ripped out of his forehead and slashed across his vessel's vocal cords. The milky eyes glinted and Hatter gave Victoria a final wink before the bloodshot orbs rolled back into the vessel's skull.

With stiff cramped legs, Victoria climbed off the body and flicked the gore off her knife before turning to see the carnage behind her. Wolves' caresses littered the snow, high pressure splatters and sprays of blood dirtying the purity of the white snow. The farthest away from her, Arthur was crouched over himself, his head in his hands hyperventilating. Dylan was leant beside him, rifle strapped on his back, rubbing small circles on the small of his back trying to soothe him. Allistor and Seamus stood side by side, the latter still staring horrified at the corpse whilst the former looked to Victoria with a hardened face; always the ready soldier boy.

'What do we do?' Allistor asked, and Victoria took several minutes to compose herself before giving her answer.

'We move.' She answered before marching for the Humvee, stepping over the wolf corpses, mentally skimming through her Lucid contacts who could potentially offer a solution to their problem. When she pasted Arthur, Dylan trying to coo him into standing, she couldn't bring herself to look at him as he sobbed over and over again as a sick mantra: He was my friend.

*Manically laughs*

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying, please take the take to leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again, thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks.