11. Hallucinating
Fists slammed repeatedly into his body, no matter how hard he tried to dodge them. He couldn't fight back- he didn't know why- but something in the back of his mind told him that if he fought back, it would just make things worse. He couldn't physically feel the pain brought with all the punches, of enough brute strength to be fatal, but instead it was the emotional pain associated with it that cut like daggers into his heart, slicing it open just on the surface. He knew that there would be more to come, and sure enough, he was right. One final punch sent him reeling into unconsciousness, the images fading out along with the sound of police sirens.
He winced as he stepped forward, onto the street, and into the way. Now that he knew the outcome, he tried to make his feet stop walking but found that he couldn't. Instead, he could only watch in horror as he was blasted off his feet and onto the sidewalk, knowing that the concrete had slammed into his flesh and left scratches. Despite the physical pain that he should be feeling, he staggered to his feet, intoxicated by his emotions. Almost drunkenly, he took a piece of paper from the dead man's pocket, read it quickly, then hid it and started running as a flash caught his eye. But he refused to stop, and all colors and images blurred together faster and faster as he went, then faded back into a blood red house.
As he unlocked the doors of the house (not a home- a home was a warm and inviting place) he knew what he was going to find but still had to turn the doorknob. The smell, recreated by his memory of the day, was nauseating. It wasn't the first time he had smelled this, and it wouldn't be the last. He stared down at the mangled bodies for a moment, then grabbed his violin case from his room and jumped out the window- the police were closing in. People never listened to him- he wasn't going to stand around and get thrown in jail. When he ran to his father's house, he discovered the same scene and took off running, slamming the door behind him and running towards that border- the border that he had never dared to cross before.
His street smarts and inner instincts were telling him that this was a bad idea- and so was the back of his mind. But he couldn't change the direction of his feet. He just kept running, kind of and kind of not sure what exactly he was running from. He hesitated slightly when he managed to find the border, then decided that he was being stupid and ran right over. He hadn't seen anyone in front of him, but he rammed into something- someone- when he crossed. After a game of attempting to step around him and failing, the man's mouth moved, forming fatal words, and grabbed him roughly before tying him up and towing him away. The night only seemed to grow darker the further he went.
After that, everything sped up. Details were impossible to comprehend, flying past as a blur of mixed colors and other things. It slowed down enough to allow him to see a familiar female face- and the pain on it.
"No," he moaned, reaching out an arm feebly and trying to catch her, but she danced away mockingly, sauntering to a familiar blond-haired boy. "No, don't, don't leave me!" he cried out in anguish, stretching his arms out in vain. He couldn't ever get what he wanted, could he? Was it too much to ask for a little happiness in this miserable life? Apparently, that was so for him- the life he had led only proved it.
He thrashed and flailed, fighting himself and his emotions to no avail. He wanted to give up. He wanted to die. But even that satisfaction was denied to him.
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"What's wrong with Meyer?" Alex inquired, confused by the other boy's strange behavior. He lifted a hand, murmuring incoherently. Then his hand dropped again, and Alex decided that he'd probably be okay if he was still alive.
"I think that the medicine's making him hallucinate a little, that's all. That stuff does seem a little strong."
"Nessa, did he drink the entire bottle?" Vivie demanded, taking the bottle from Alex Meyer's hand. Alex made a face. How had he drunk all that stuff? It was utterly disgusting to him.
"Well, it was full when I gave it to him, and he'd never waste finite resources." Nessa seemed to understand and identify with Alex Meyer very well. Alex wondered why that was.
Vivie felt his forehead worriedly. "Nessa, I have a bad feeling about this."
"Calm down, Vivie," Nessa serenely told her, her dark eyes nonchalant. The way that she said it was almost insensitive, but Alex could kind of understand what she meant. She cared, but she wasn't going to stress over it- a smart decision.
"Nessa, should we call everyone we know and tell them to keep their TVs off?" Vivie suggested. "We can't broadcast it to the whole town, but it would help if we kept our people out of it..."
"Good idea. I wonder how he did it- hypnotizing... I'll have to look into it. I might need you two to try to find his base."
"Huh?" they both asked at the same time, prompting shy and reluctant smiles from both of them. Vivie was easy to connect with- Alex couldn't deny that. If he had to work with someone, at least it as an equal that wasn't over-confident, intelligent, and knew exactly what she was doing.
"Once we figure out what he's doing, we do need to kind of stop him," Nessa pointed out. "I'd prefer it if it was you two that did that."
"But Alex-" Vivie protested.
"Vivie, he's conked out right now. The guy's not going to be of any use." Alex liked that Nessa talked to them like equals and didn't order them around, even if it had kind of seemed that way in the very beginning. "Look, you don't have to go today. Just don't wait too long, okay?"
Vivie sighed. "Okay. Are you up for this, Alex?"
"I don't think that I have a choice," he admitted with a sigh.
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry that you had to be dragged into this."
"Don't be- it wasn't your fault." As Vivie reassured him, the figure on the couch moved, and all three of them immediately crowded around.
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"Why am I lying on a couch?" Alex groaned, sitting up. Three anxious faces surrounded him. "Um, hey, guys. What's up?"
"Andrew Yzcheck," Vivie reminded him.
"Oh, the guy that tried to kidnap Crisee?"
"I guess that it worked," Nessa decided, grinning at him. Alex was confused.
"What worked?"
"That Tree Frog stuff, whatever it was. It smelled nasty." Alex Rider made a face to punctuate that statement. "We don't do things like that back in England."
"Sure you don't." Alex couldn't help smirking. "Will somebody please tell me what's going on?"
"I guess that he doesn't have any memory of it..." Vivie murmured.
"Yeah, or of anything else, for that matter. Well, I had some pretty bad dreams... more like hallucinations..."
"That was it." Nessa grinned. "Well, you remember Crisee getting kidnapped, correct?"
"How could I not? That's where I met Rider."
Nessa shook her head. "It's like nothing happened."
"Yeah, for you. I'd like to be in the loop here." Alex pointed out.
"Vivie, will you-"
"Of course." She smiled. "Here we go."
