ultimateform14: Here you go then :D And, uh... yeah. 8D
CheLeapofFaith: LOL, it's supposed to. It depresses me, too ;_; Also, no death you say? Why, that's impossible! teehee.
Ginger Katt: AND a British-fetish. Hurr hurr.
And thanks to:
-CheLeapofFaith, for adding this story to their favourites and their alert.
Ummmmm so yeah. Have fun with the cliffhanger on this one.
Also, another stupid thing, I watched this video with Lucy's truck in it, and of course the freaking hood is flat. What kind of truck has a flat hood? Just ignore that, too ._.
And then the screaming, oh the screaming
It's nice to see you scared
-Blue October's The End
"We can't just leave it here!"
"Think about it, Lucy!" Desmond pressed, stepping closer. "We go find a repairman, and we take him back here. To what? Dead bodies? Blood? Strange equipment in the back? It just can't be done."
Lucy sighed deeply. "I am so fired."
"This is great. Really great," Lucy half-shouted sarcastically as they walked. "I lost my truck, all my equipment, and you brought the fucking first-aid kit. Oh, and of course you needed to jump back on the roof to get your shirt! You probably broke your fucking hand again, and don't think I'm resetting the bones this time."
Desmond tuned her out - she was just venting - and clutched the first-aid kit to his chest. He hadn't put his sling back on, so he carried his shirt with him, folded over his right arm.
He found himself glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. There were no streetlights on this road, so it was nearly pitch-black, the only light coming from the almost-full moon. The only sounds were their footsteps - Lucy had fallen silent - and yet Desmond thought the sound of his feet kicking through the dirt were the sound of someone else's.
Almost no cars passed them. It was odd; although this wasn't exactly a main road - Lucy had taken a less-travelled route - there still should've been at least a few other vehicles on the road.
The other thing that freaked him out were the mountains. This particular road snaked through the outskirts of the Swiss Alps, and there were peaks all around them, dotted with trees. He would've preferred a flat landscape, where it was easy to see anything coming.
They kept walking for a few more minutes in total silence, then Lucy muttered, "I'm sorry."
Desmond, not sure he had heard her right, did a double take. "What?"
"I'm sorry," she repeated, looking at him now. It was hard to tell in the dark, but she appeared to be looking at him with apologetic eyes.
"You haven't done anything." Desmond smiled reassuringly, trying to make her feel better.
Lucy sighed forlornly and stared away from him, toward the moon. "Not yet," she breathed.
"What're you—" Before the words could come out of his mouth, Lucy took off running, away from the road. She had the flashlight.
"Shit!" Desmond hissed, then called after her. "Lucy, wait! where are you going?"
"Away," was all he heard.
Gritting his teeth, Desmond dropped the first-aid kid and followed, trailing after the beam of light that projected from the flashlight. Ignoring his leg, he ran in a full sprint after her, but no matter how fast he went, Lucy was always out of his reach.
Eventually, they reached a small group of trees, into which Lucy slipped. Despite every cell of his body telling him not to, Desmond followed to a point where he could barely see two feet in front of him, let alone Lucy.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Desmond muttered, then stopped and spun around, looking in every direction. "Lucy?" he called, feeling himself beginning to panic. Every rustle of leaves, every small noise, sent him reeling, until his back bumped into a trunk. He slid down the tree until he was sitting on the damp ground. He could feel his breathing speeding up.
By instinct, he turned on Eagle Vision, needing to see something. He regretted it.
There was a red figure a few trees away, just standing there. Desmond nearly had a heart attack when he saw it, and the bright beam of light emanating from it was just too much.
He turned off Eagle Vision to find a flashlight being shone in his face. Lucy walked closer, still gripping it.
"What.. what are you doing?" Desmond gasped, squinting his eyes against the harsh light. The brightness of it made it hard to see Lucy's expression, but she walked toward him slowly, feet barely making a sound on the dense layer of pine needles.
"I'm sorry," was all she said, then it was if it was day again. Hundreds of lights materialized from the darkness, practically blinding both humans. Lucy hissed, almost as if she wasn't expecting this, then closed her eyes. Desmond, feeling his eyes starting to burn, followed suit. A harsh redness still shone through his eyelids.
"She has helped us," all of the lights said at once, hurting his ears.
"What?" Desmond demanded, convinced it was lying, that this was just another scare tactic.
"It's true," came the quiet confession of Lucy.
"They're. Trying. To. Kill. You!" Desmond screamed desperately, incredulous how Lucy could even consider helping the lights. "I told you myself!"
"He lies," the lights hissed. "He's the one that's trying to kill you."
Let it all burn,
I will burn first
Desmond was trying to convince himself that this was another dream, another hallucination, anything that meant Lucy hadn't betrayed him. And yet, squeezing an eye open, he saw tears - real tears - glistening on her cheeks, out of tightly shut eyelids.
"Oh, Lucy," Desmond said softly, closing his eyes again. "Why?"
"I said I was fucking sorry!" Lucy's rage exploded just a few feet away from him. "Why is that never good enough for you?"
"Sorry for what?" Desmond demanded, his frustration rising. "Making your own choices? Doing this to us? To me?"
"Yes, yes," the lights whispered softly. "Make her angry, Desmond."
Desmond growled at them, like an animal. "Go the fuck away!" he screamed in their direction, which was everywhere anyway.
The harsh glow dimmed significantly. Desmond didn't open his eyes, knowing anything could happen.
"They're gone," Lucy said, sounding somewhat surprised. Alarm resounded in his brain.
"No, wait Lucy!" he cried. "Close your—"
A near-blinding flash, even from behind his lids, erupted suddenly. Lucy screamed deafeningly, and he heard her thrashing around in the leaves. Then, suddenly, it was dark again. But nowhere near silent.
"My eyes! My fucking eyes!" Lucy howled. Desmond, hesitantly at first, opened his own, ready to snap them shut at a moment's notice.
Lucy was clutching her face, rolling madly on the ground, the flashlight long abandoned beside her. And the screaming, oh the screaming.
God I've tried, am I lost in your eyes?
"Lucy!" Desmond scrambled on his knees toward her, holding down as much of her as he could with one hand. She was screaming her lungs off, desperately rubbing at her eyes.
"Just try to calm down," Desmond urged, knowing she'd do no good panicking. He looked around and quickly picked up the flashlight with his right hand, directing the beam at her.
In one fluid motion, Lucy was on her back and her hands were at his throat. She stretched her eyes wide. Their pupils had completely disappeared, leaving twin blue pools lined with blood and tears.
"They fucking blinded me!" she cried. "You blinded me!" Her hands tightened.
"Stop!" Desmond choked desperately, trying to push her away. But her years of training, in contrast to his month, left him at a huge disadvantage. The flashlight slipped out of his hand and hit the ground once again, throwing shadows everywhere.
"Fight back," the lights encouraged him softly, inside his head.
"That's what you want, isn't it?" Desmond barely managed the words; his windpipe was almost fully cut off.
"Fight BACK!" they cried at him, sounding desperate as his vision started to blur.
No. He closed his eyes.
WHUT. Who saw that coming? ...no one I hope.