*I am not liabul for any loud screams, waterdamaged laptops (from spitting out water) or any other things that happen as a result of reading this chapter.*
Enjoy ;)
~Christianne
Nikki POV
His broad torso was pressed flush against mine and his hands moved up from my upper thighs, squeezed my butt briefly before pushing under my t-shirt. I shivered as Sam's long fingers traced over my rib cage. One hand went back up to my head, cupping the side of my face, and the other stayed under my shirt, brushing against my side, stomach, and the undersides of my breasts.
When Sam's lips left mine, the sound of protest I started to let out quickly became a gasp-like groan as his hot mouth left hard, wet kisses down my neck. All I could do was keep making these little whimpering noises every time Sam's teeth grazed my neck. One particularly hard nip made me squeal, and I realized he was mumbling something. I brushed it off and grabbed the sides of Sam's face, my fingers knotting in his lengthy hair as I made him kiss me again.
A low grown came from the back of Sam's throat and he grabbed my face with both hands, his fingers knotting in my hair as his torso pressed me tighter to the side of the car. I grabbed onto his neck so I wouldn't fall on the ground. Sam started trailing his lips down my neck again, he used his hand on the side of my face to tilt my chin up so he could get his face closer to my neck. His soft brown hair tickled my cheeks.
I gasped as my eyes shot open.
I was laying on Kory's sofa, and going by the silence, she was still asleep.
I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees, then rested my chin on them. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.
"He doesn't remember it, you know."
I grabbed the pistol out from under my pillow and aimed it at the end of the sofa, where Used-to-be-Fake-Chris was sitting on the arm.
"I'm not dreaming." I stated plainly. "I took galangal before I went to sleep. I'm not dreaming. How are you here?" I questioned.
"First of all," Used-to-be-Fake-Chris started. "Put the gun down. It's too early for stuff like that. Second, no. You're not dreaming. I'm just…A figment of your imagination." He said with a grin.
"Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"No, not really." He admitted with a shrug.
I sighed and put my gun down. "I know Sam doesn't remember." I muttered.
"So? Why you still boo-hooing?" Used-to-be-Fake-Chris asked. I looked up and glared at him. "Jee, touchy subject."
"Why are you here?" I asked him. "Haven't heard from you since you taught me that demon thing."
"Haven't needed me." He said simply, resting his elbows on his knees.
"And, what? I need you now?" I asked, almost laughing.
He shrugged. "I think you need to take a personal inventory of those squishy gushy humany feelings you have, put on your big girl panties and go back to the Impala Crew."
I snorted. "And I'm going to do this just 'cause you told me too."
"That's what I was going for." Used-to-be-Fake-Chris shrugged.
"Yeah, not gonna happen." I said, scooting back so I was leaning on the arm of the sofa opposite Used-to-be-Fake-Chris. "I'll meet up with them when, if, I choose too."
"If! What do you mean if?" Used-to-be-Fake-Chris asked in a hushed whisper, like he was afraid to wake Kory up.
"Have you ever…" I trailed off. "Have you ever wanted to be with someone so bad it hurt? And that person doesn't feel the same way?" I asked him.
His light brown eye brows pulled together over his brown eyes. They looked like they had tiny flecks of gold in them from the morning light filtering through the open windows. "…No." He said slowly.
"Well, it sucks." I sighed. "It's…" I laughed once. "It's painful and frustrating and unfair and why would I put myself through that?" I asked him.
"'Cause they're family." Used-to-be-Fake-Chris said automatically. "You do stuff that hurts for family."
"I don't have a family." I snapped irritably. "I'll never have a family. Any chance of that went away when I was left in a church in the rain."
Used-to-be-Fake-Chris raised an eyebrow at me. "That's not true." He said. "You know that's not true."
"Yeah, well that's what it feels like, ok?" I snapped, raking my curls back with my hand and looking out the window.
"You have your mom's hair, you know." Used-to-be-Fake-Chris said suddenly.
I slowly looked over at him. He had a different expression on his face; reminiscent and a little sad.
"I do?" I asked quietly. He nodded.
"What…What was she like?" I asked hesitantly.
Used-to-be-Fake-Chris looked down at his twiddling thumbs. I didn't expect him to answer, so I was surprised when he did.
"She would have liked you." He told me. "She…She would be proud of the woman you're becoming."
I swallowed down a lump in my throat. "How do you know that?" I asked softly.
"'Cause I knew her. Probably better than anyone else." He mumbled. "And I know what you're thinking, princess." He added before I could as him a question. He looked up at me. "I didn't lie to you. I'm not your dad."
I was a little let down, I had to admit. I wriggled around under my blanket. "Well, are you gonna tell me who is?"
Used-to-be-Fake-Chris looked at me. He looked at me for what felt like a long time, his hands forming fists, and one of them bounced on his knee. "You know what he'd do to me if I told you?" He asked me flatly.
I shook my head. "No, 'cause I don't know who he is."
"I think your friend is about to wake up." Used-to-be-Fake-Chris said suddenly.
I looked over my shoulder and saw Kory roll over and groan. I looked back to where Used-to-be-Fake-Chris had been perched, but he was gone.
I pouted and threw the blankets off my body.
"What time is it?" Kory moaned as she sat up.
"Early." I said, walking to the kitchen to make coffee. As I did, I told Kory about how I burned the bones of the real killed last night. She was a little miffed I didn't tell her, but was relieved that this whole thing was finally done.
I was taking a sip of my coffee when my phone rang.
"Hello?" I answered, holding in a yawn.
"Detective Howard? This is Lieutenant Smith—Tyler. We met yesterday?"
"Yeah, hi." I said.
"Barry wanted me to call you, we found another body." Tyler said.
I slammed my mug down on the counter. "R-Really?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.
"Uh-huh. Jeremiah Quinn, 28." Tyler told me.
"Oh…Uh, well, I just got up-" I started to say.
"Oh! Uh, sorry. Just stop by the station when you're all awake and around." Tyler said quickly.
"I will, thanks." I said, taking the phone away from my ear, not listening to what he was saying, and hanging up.
I groaned. "It didn't work." I said into the counter.
Kory fell back onto the bed wordlessly.
"Ok, I think I got something." I said, getting up off my place on the floor (back on the hardwood, feet up on the brick wall) to walk over to the coffee table where Kory was.
"What?" she asked eagerly. It was almost 8 at night. We'd spent all day making phone calls to people and rechecking our work; seeing if we missed something.
"It's a spell." I said, dropping my book on the coffee table and grabbing my herb bag. "It…It sort of makes a compass, you know? Guides you to what you need to find."
Kory nodded and watched me pour different herbs into a mason jar. After I added some water, I shook it, then looked at Kory.
"What?" She asked, squirming under my gaze.
"Well, you're going to go find whatever is keeping Sherman here and burn it. I'm going to walk around the park with a gun full of salt rounds and make sure the mother doesn't kill anyone else." I told her.
"Ok." She nodded slowly.
"But, this is Wiccan magic. Not everyone can use it." I told her. "Give me your hand." I demanded, fishing around my bag for a few things. Kory carefully held out her hand, and yelped when I stabbed the tip of her pointed finger with a needle.
"Ow! Warn me next time!" She complained as I squeezed one drop of her blood into an empty glass on the coffee table.
"For a normal person to do some basic Wiccan magic without going through all the steps and spells and stuff, you sorta have to be…blessed, by a powerful Wiccan." I told her as I dropped some dried Looestrife into the glass.
"Quae talis est ut cum magicis Venas in hoc mortali Wiccan beatus est." I recited, then lit a match and dropped it into the glass. It gave off a poof of green flames, and Kory let out a squeak.
"Congratulations!" I said dramatically. "You're now an honorary Wiccan!" Kory rolled her eyes and looked down at the finger I'd stabbed.
"Now…You're turn…" I mumbled to the mason jar. I took out an arrow head from my bag and held it over the open top. "Quod, me perdidit, me ducere ad petendum." I said, holding the arrow head with only my fingertips.
The arrow head began to spin, and I stopped reciting. It slowed, and pointed steadily behind me. I picked up the jar, and walked to the left. The arrow moved so it was pointing the same direction.
"Here." I said, handing the jar to Kory. "Go follow it. When you find it, the arrow head will fall into the jar." She nodded once, grabbed the Zippo off the coffee table and headed to the door. I grabbed my pistol, checked the clip (full of salt rounds, thank you Bobby), put a bullet in the chamber, put the safety on and tucked it in the waste of my pants.
I pulled my jacket over the grip and walked to the park.
"What the hell am I looking for?" Kory called after me.
"You'll know!" I called back.
Omniscient POV
Nikki was wandering the park, playing with the end of her long, dark braid. Every sound made her head snap up and her hand twitch to her back.
…
On the other side of town, Kory was walking quickly along the sidewalk, following the arrow head like Nikki told her. She stopped when she saw what it brought her too.
On the edge of Cheyenne, the abandoned theater. It was supposed to be torn down in a few weeks. Kory took a shaky breath, and flipped open the pocket knife she'd gotten a few days ago. She walked up to the door, set the jar on the ground, looked over her shoulder, and stuck the thin blade of the knife in between the doors and jerked it up. The satisfying click it made, made a grin spread over Kory's face.
Nikki was still just walking around, but stopped dead in her tracks.
"Oh God." She breathed, running towards the body of a collapsed person on the side walk. "Shit shit shit!" she cursed, skidding to a stop and kneeling down to the man.
He was wearing an out-of-date suit with a red tie. She put a hand on his chest to feel for a heartbeat or breathing.
The second her hand hit the man's chest, he shot up and grabbed her throat.
Kory was half holding her breath as she walked through the pitch black lobby of the old theater. She had a small flash light focused on the arrow head, jumping every time she almost stepped on something.
The arrow head led her down the large, dark hall with the theaters in it.
"M-Maxwell." Nikki gasped out, clawing at the garyish hand around her throat.
Maxwell Sherman tilted his head to one side briefly, before throwing the girl ten feet to the left. She hit a tree with a thud.
Nikki groaned, and looked up as Maxwell Sherman walked up to her. "You think I'm afraid of you?" She asked through gasping breaths.
"Everyone's afraid of me." Sherman said lowly. "My own mother was afraid of me." He said as he leaned over her.
"Yeah? Good for you." Nikki said before quickly skittering back to kick Sherman in the face. He grunted as he fell to the ground, letting Nikki get to her feet. "Mine would be proud of me, evidently."
"Everyone's afraid of me!" Sherman growled, running at Nikki.
"Oh…Why'd it have to be the theater at the end?" Kory whimpered, walking into the last, darkest theater. "That's where all the horror movies start."
"Ah!" Nikki yelped after being hit in the jaw by Sherman. She managed to get a grip on his hair, and jerked his head hard to the left. He howled in pain and released Nikki's arm. She gave him a solid kick in the gut that sent him flying back.
"It's the book, isn't it?" Nikki asked, looking around for her gun. She'd lost it somewhere in between the head lock he had her in, and her kicking him so hard in the crotch she was sure his charred corps rolled over in its grave. He'd lost his knife; she grabbed it, cutting her palm, and threw it in the bushes. "People were scared of you then. But they are terrified of you now. That's it, isn't it?"
Sherman let out a snarl and tackled Nikki to the ground. She dug her fingers into his throat, and tried to protect her own with the other.
"People think I'm a killer." He hissed. "So I became one."
"Ok…Ok…Ok…" Kory told herself as she walked towards the topmost corner of the theater, the darkest corner.
The arrow tilted down, and Kory kneeled down, her flashlight scanning around the floor. She moved the beam slowly, and froze when she heard the arrow head drop into the liquid in the jar. She frowned and looked closer at the floor.
"I'm not scared of you." Nikki hissed at Sherman, wiping blood off her lip.
"You should be!" Sherman growled, running at her and grabbing the girl in a headlock.
"People think I should be feared." Nikki said as she struggled in Sherman's grip.
"Really?" he hissed in her ear.
"Yeah." Nikki hissed back, throwing her elbow into his stomach. "They do."
She felt Sherman yank painfully on her hair, and the next thing she knew she was being choked.
"C'mon…c'mon….c'mon!" Kory plead as she looked along the wooden floor. "What the hell am I looking for?" She hissed.
Then she saw it.
The corner of a yellowed, frayed paper.
A ticket.
Fumbling in the dark, she tried to get the tweezers from her Swiss Army knife.
Nikki was being choked with her own braid. She was gasping for air as Sherman pulled tighter and tighter.
"Why would anyone be afraid of you?" Sherman hissed at Nikki.
She pinched her eyes shut, and just…let go.
Sherman went flying into the nearest tree. Nikki fell to her knees, unwrapping her braid from her neck.
Nikki stood up, panting. She walked towards Sherman, who was pinned to a tree. "Because, I don't know what I'm capable of."
"Ah-ha!" Kory said, pulling the movie ticket from the break in the floor boards.
It was for Mister Roberts.
Ticket number 82184.
Nikki was currently holding Sherman against a tree. She wasn't letting him scream, but she could tell the spirit was in tremendous pain.
And she didn't care.
Kory fell back into one of the moldy theater seats and pulled out the Zippo lighter.
She flicked it, and touched the flame to the corner of the ticket. She let it burn almost to her fingers before she dropped it onto the floor. Once it was just smoldering ashes, she stomped it out.
Nikki POV
I released Maxwell Sherman when he disappeared in a puff of flames.
I stumbled back a step and held my ribs. I could barely breathe, I was swaying on my feet, and my eyelids were getting droopy.
"Whoa, careful there kiddo." I heard Used-to-be-Fake-Chris say. I felt two hands on my shoulders, and then a light touch on my forehead. I gasped as I straightened up.
I felt fine.
I looked at Used-to-be-Fake-Chris, shocked. "What-What are you doing here?" I asked, shaking his hands off.
"Ok, ask me again." He said, gesturing to himself.
"What?" I asked, confused.
"Earlier today, you asked me who your dad was. Ask me again." He clarified.
I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "Ok…Who's my father?" I asked.
"My brother." Used-to-be-Fake-Chris said simply, before disappearing right before my eyes.