Disclaimer: I don't own Warehouse 13 or any of its characters
Warning: a bit of blood and such lies herein. Read with caution.
Claudia Donovan burst through Steve Jinks' door one evening.
"Hey Jinksy, you ready?" She walked around his room, unable to keep still.
"Tell me again how you convinced me to go see some low-budget horror movie with you at a theater two hours away?"
"'Nightmare in the Wild West' is a classic indie horror film playing at a classy old-timey theater. How could you not be convinced to go?" The redhead cocked her head and raised an eyebrow.
"Fine. Just let me grab my wallet."
Claudia squealed excitedly and they left for the theater.
The movie was halfway over. Claudia was curled up in her seat, clutching Steve's hand with one hand and nervously biting her nails with the other. She alternated between suppressing yelps at the jump-scare tactics of the horror movie, and laughing at the random funny or cheesy bits.
Suddenly, there were gunshots. But they didn't coincide with the movie. They were loud. Too loud. And suddenly, the two Warehouse agents knew they were real gunshots. The sounds echoed outside, coming closer and closer, until one of the theater doors was thrown open and the lights turned on. A man in a black mask began open fire on the crowd. At first, the scene was too horrific for Steve to move, but once he came out of his trance, he grabbed Claudia and pushed her to the ground in front of their seats, throwing himself on top of her small frame to protect her as the man began to shoot. He noticed the gunman was moving in an organized fashion, going down each row on one side. Steve could only conclude that the man would finish that side before he started on the half in which they were crouching.
"Claude," he whispered frantically.
"What?"
"As soon as he passes us, while he's shooting that way, run to the other side of the aisle and lie down like you're dead."
"Okay."
The man had walked past them, continuing to rapid-fire with his automatic weapon.
Steve whispered, "Now!"
Time seemed to slow down as they got up from the ground and attempted to get to the opposite row. They were halfway across the aisle when the man spotted them. There were more gunshots, and for a moment, it seemed like nothing had happened. Then Steve looked over and saw Claudia clutching her stomach and falling to the floor, and suddenly he felt his shoulder jerk back. He realized a second later he had been hit, and sank to the ground as the world went black.
Helena Wells was freshening up in the ladies bathroom at the theater. Nate and she had gone on a romantic weekend getaway, and he had insisted she see a film entitled 'Nightmare in the Wild West." From the opening credits, Helena was bored senseless, and around halfway through, she had excused herself to the bathroom. As she smoothed down her dark hair, she heard the sound of gunshots errupt from the lobby. Quickly, she flattened herself against a wall, hearing the loud noise growing fainter, and ever so slowly opened the door a crack. A man in a dark mask was disappearing into the theater as more shots rang out, and screams sounded. Pulling a gun and her cell phone from her jacket, she dialled 911 and cocked the weapon.
"911, what is your emergency?"
"Hello, I'm at the Classic Theater in South Chamberlain. There is a shooter on the loose inside the theater."
"We're sending help right away, ma'am."
"Thank you."
"Do you want me to stay on the line with you?"
"No thank you."
"Okay. The police and medical help are on their way."
Helena hung up the phone and slid it back into her pocket. Holding up the gun, she slipped out of the bathroom and checked that the coast was clear. She slid against the wall toward the theater entrance, hearing screams and more gunshots, and then silence.
As Helena pushed through the doors, she held up her weapon, but found no one shooting. Then she saw man on the ground with an automatic weapon discarded by his side.
She stared at him for a moment before going to check on the many wounded and dead in the room. Some were dead or nearly dead. Others had only been superficially shot. And a few hung in the balance. Where was Nate?
She searched the entirety of one side of the aisle with no sign of her boyfriend. Suddenly, she felt a cold hand on her shoulder. Whipping around, she pointed her gun, but it fell to the ground when she saw who it was.
"Nate!" She threw herself into his arms. "Are you okay?"
The man nodded, grunting slightly when she hugged him. When she pulled back, she found blood oozing from his arm.
"Well, that's not really what I'd call okay." She ripped a piece of his shirt off and tied it tightly around the wound. "Meds and police should be here soon, darling."
"Okay." He hugged her again.
"I'm going to see if anyone else needs help," she said, starting up the aisle. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Claudia and Steve laying in the aisle before her. Her stomach lurched as she ran over to them. There was blood everywhere, so she had a hard time determining where exactly Claudia and Steve's injuries were.
She was going to check the redhead's pulse on her wrist but when she looked down, she found one of her arms mangled badly . Her other arm was wedged underneath her, so Helena put two fingers to Claudia's neck. The pulse was weak and thready, but still there.
"Claudia, can you hear me? Claudia?"
The girl's eyelids fluttered open for a moment, but then her eyes rolled back in her head again.
"Claudia?" She found that the younger agent's abdomen was hemorrhaging blood, and she balled up her sweater, pressing it to Claudia's stomach.
"Nate?"
He came over.
"Can you hold this with your good arm?" He did so, and the Brit moved over to Steve. He was slightly less messy, though still looked like something out of a slasher movie. His pulse was racing.
Helena grabbed Steve's shirt and ripped a piece off, using it to tie a tourniquet tightly around his shoulder, which was bleeding heavily, then took a look at a place in his ribs which was also wounded. She didn't have any material to press to the wound, so she pulled off one of her two layered tank tops and applied pressure to Steve's rib.
"Steve? Can you hear me?"
The man didn't respond.
The thick stench of blood hung heavy in the room, making Helena nauseous. She was in no way a pansy, but was understandably shaken from the incident.
Finally, the meds and police came, asking Helena dozens of questions. She barely heard them, watching as Steve and Claudia were picked up by EMT's and hauled away on gurneys.
"I'm sorry, could we take a five-minute break from the questions? There's something I need to do."
The police complied, and Helena stepped into the hallway, dialing Myka's number into her phone.
"Helena? Hi, how are you?"
"Myka, hello. There's..." Helena felt like she was going to be sick. "There's something I need to tell you. Steve and Claudia… were shot. They're on the way the way to the hospital in Featherhead…"
Myka didn't respond.
"Myka, hello?"
The woman had hung up, and Helena had no doubt that she was already on her way.
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