Chapter Four
The windows in Rufioh's car are down, your hair whipping around your face and getting caught in the corners of your mouth. Music swims through you, nuzzling inside of you until you smile, turning the radio up. The bass pulses through your body and continues to lift your spirits. Despite the good vibes wrapped around you, there's a sliver of unease. You're in such a good mood that you easily pull it out and toss it away. Rufioh grins at the road goofily, obviously absorbing the good feelings along with you. He glances at you and your eyes meet. The wings of unseen butterflies tickle in your stomach, as if you haven't shared lust filled glances before. Warmth blankets your cheeks, making Rufioh laugh and clutch your hand. As you drive through the city, your mind is blissfully clear and empty. For the first time in several sweeps, you aren't trying to hold back tears or about to fall into a fit of panic; you aren't struggling. Relaxation sinks into you. This day will be wonderful. Is wonderful. One of the best ones you've had in a long stream of terrible ones.
You turn into the Captor driveway and feel the first anxious tremor slide through you. The prospect of socializing always brings about unwanted anxiety, and the fact that there's a purple car in the driveway with an unknown owner makes it even worse. Rufioh squeezes your hand then brings it to his lips. "Have fun, doll." He flashes you a dorky grin. There's a pang in your chest, a nudge in your mind that something is off. The sliver nestles in again, deeper this time. You ache dully in your chest, thinking that you're going to miss that smile of his. But that's ridiculous, you'll see him in less than three hours. The better part of you knows it's a terrible idea to push away the feeling of wrongness this time, but you do it anyways. You've spent too much time being cautious and today is a good day, not just an okay or tolerable one. To appease the all-knowing edgy sliver, you give him a lingering kiss, pull away and get out of the car. You turn and smile at him as he drives away. The feeling that he's gone forever kills a bit of your excitement, and yet again, you shove it away. Honestly, your pessimism is really getting on your nerves. Behind the front door, you hear a crash, a muffled scream and loud laughing. You knock timidly and the ruckus in the hive abruptly stops. You sure hope those weird feelings have nothing to do with you or that sense of dread. Aradia opens the door with a wide sweep and her glassy smile startles you, makes you pause to look into her serious gaze. She mentioned that the voices were getting excited about you. Maybe the event they're excited about it is soon to be at hand.
Behind Aradia, Sollux stands on the coffee table with a pillow in his hand, glaring down at the pouting Eridan Ampora. It completely baffles you as to why Eridan is there. Him and Sollux make an adorable kismesis couple but that's not exactly the type that goes to parties together. You wander in, avoiding thinking about Aradia's eyes trailing you and wave to no one in particular, eyes fixed on the floor. "What's he doing here?" You ask, gesturing to Eridan and then looking to Sollux for the answer.
"I have no fucking idea. This douche stick decided to invite himself and ruin the party. Tell him to leave, Aradia!" He shouts the last part and throws his pillow at her. It bounces against her horns and falls to the floor without causing a reaction. She shakes her head.
"Sorry, Sollux, he won't listen to me," Sollux whines, and then Eridan joins in, the two bickering at each other. Mituna is nowhere to be seen, but you can guess that he's probably in his respiteblock hiding from the unknown Ampora. You walk away from the group that is gradually getting louder and walk through the nutrition block, into a hallway painted a sickeningly bright yellow. Before you can knock on Mituna's door, a hand pokes through, grabs your arm and pulls you inside. The door is slammed behind you, Mituna hugging you from behind.
"Hi, Tuna!" you exclaim, turning to hug him back. "You ever clean your room?" you release him and examine the area. Game Grub magazines are strewn all over the floor, mind honey dripping from the small hives in the corner, video games spread out around a TV sitting on the carpet. He laughs, rolling around on his bed with exaggerated laughter, his hair falling around his face in different angles. You see his helmet hiding under the bed and know he must really be comfortable around you if he doesn't feel the need to it.
"That's what they want you to do," He says, and it takes you a second to decipher what he says through his heavy lisp. You sit on his bed, trying to ignore the obnoxious buzzing of bees that bores into your brain. An hour passes and you play video games, talk in length about how highbloods undoubtedly are the dumbest of all the trolls, especially the one and his older ancestor that have nearly ruined his party today. Though you still fight for equality like The Signless, you don't say otherwise. He has a right to those opinions and a good reason for them. The reunion goes well, really well. "The Grand Highblood is out," He says solemnly, lifting his bangs to look at you with his red and blue eyes. You nod, swatting absently at a passing bee. "This means we're going to die."
"I know," where the fuck did that come from? You know? You don't know that. You don't know anything! Why does this revelation leave you with trepidation rather than paranoia and anxiety? Before your fidgety friend can respond, you shout out in pain and slam your hand against your cheek. Between your face and your palm is a squished bee. You look at the crumpled insect in your hand in alarm and back at Mituna.
Not good. Not good at all. His jaw hangs open. Blue and red sparks fly from between strands of his hair. "I'm so sorry, Tuna, it was an automatic reaction!" Tears fill your eyes in a panic. You don't want to upset him, you don't want him to be upset. You don't want to ruin his wriggling day. Guilt nearly pulls the tears from your eyes as you look at him grow angrier. "Mituna I'm sorry... maybe he's-" There's a knock on the door. Mituna gives you one last hard look, barrel rolls off of the bed, falls on his back and reaches for his helmet. He stumbles as he slips it over his head. You awkwardly cradle the bee in your hands, unsure of what to do with it. It's not like you can just throw it on the floor... Is Mituna still mad? He seems to have completely forgotten about his dead pet already.
"Who dares to request entrance into the Hive of Rad?" He calls out.
"Come on Tuna baby, it's me!" Latula's cheery voice makes Mituna perk up and fling the door open.
"Tula!" He throws his arms around her shoulders and snuggles his head into her neck, grinning sloppily. She laughs and squeezes him close. This scene almost makes you smile; it's really nice that Mituna has such a supportive matesprit. One that he deserves. You stand to leave, give them some privacy, but when you try to move past the couple, Latula crushes you to her. Your face is pressed between her breasts, clad in a shockingly bright blue, smelling like the bitterness of a teal blood. "Hey, girl! Don't think you can leave when the party just showed up! We gotta have some bonding time, just the three of us. We'll save the sloppy make outs for after you leave," You smile despite yourself. She's always grinning and radiating comfort. It's easy to see why Mituna is in love with her. She releases you, shuts the door behind her, and slams herself onto the bed. With the bee still cupped in your hand, you cross your legs on the floor, watching as Mituna crawls into his matesprit's lap. She removes his helmet, stroking her fingers through his hair. You think again of Rufioh and how he does the same thing with you. Then you think of how you told Mituna you knew you were going to die. Do you really know that? You aren't exactly surprised to feel like the days of your life can be counted on one hand.
Not too deep into the conversation, and there's screaming from another part of the hive. You scramble onto the bed with the two older trolls, huddling behind them, wishing there was a window to escape from. There's more screaming, male and female, cursing, grunting, bangs. You're shaking, but really, you don't feel much of anything. Nothing, in fact. All three of you stay quiet, completely still, listening, judging. To protect the dead bee's body, you wrap both hands around it and hold it to your chest. It's easier to protect something so little than it is to protect yourself. At least you can protect something. Latula slowly turns to you and points towards Mituna's closet, which is empty save for a barrel of honey and a lone skateboard. You silently walk into the closet, Mituna nestling behind the barrel. The noises have stopped completely. You hold your breath as Latula closes you into the closet.
There is a clap of thunder overhead that makes you jump as you look through the slits of the closet paneling. Latula carefully opens the bedroom door and sticks her head out, looking right. You hear the sizzling of Mituna's nervousness spitting from his eyes beside you in the muted silence. Latula opens the door more, leans forward, then looks left and suddenly stumbles backwards, slamming the door and locking it. You cringe against the back wall, still trembling without feeling anything. You're too far away too see what's going on in the respiteblock but you listen. Latula curses under her breath. You hear the door splinter as it's forced open. Heavy footsteps.
"Come on, man, I haven't hurt anybody. Do you-" She's cut short by another roll of thunder, this one accompanied by the patter of rain. You listen. All you can hear is heavy breathing. Latula doesn't make another protest. She's dead. You know it. She must be. How did The Grand Highblood do it so quickly? After all, you know it's him. It was always him. It will always be him. You're contemplating whether you should peek out again or not when the slants of light that enter the closet are disturbed by an all too familiar set of eyes.
They're ringed with black, the irises a blazing purple. Close enough that you can see each diamond shape and contraction. His lashes are long and heavy. Hardness and insanity intertwine within his messy, high-raised highbrows. Gray cracks the white makeup that smudges the black on his eyelids. You take all of this in silently despite your palpitating heart. "Peekaboo... I see you," His voice violates your mind, tracking mud on it like dirty fingers. An unpleasant shiver trails down your spine. The door is whipped open and you work on autopilot, shooting out from under his arm. Latula lies on the floor, blood dripping from her temple. Probably dead. The sight slows you down and The Grand Highblood takes the opportunity to cup his arm around your stomach, lifting you off the ground. You thrust yourself downwards, centering your weight to fall towards the floor. It works, and you fall, but into his calves. He still has the upper hand.
As you fly to your feet with speed you never knew you could ever possibly possess, he wraps a fist in your hair. The bee in your hand is squished between your fingers as you thrash around, perturbation inflating your chest. His other hand clamps around your throat, black bugs already dotting your vision. "Remember what happened the last time you fought?" he asks and you do. But you don't revisit the memory, determined this time to avoid capture. You thrust your foot behind you, miss, and are thrown to the ground with a single push. His muddy boot is pressed into your back as you wiggle, repeatedly grasping at the carpet for a hold. He picks at the fingers of your fist, trying to unclench them from around the bee. You struggle to look over your shoulder as he forces his fingers under yours, absorbed in the task. At the same time you buck your lower body, you lift your hand awkwardly and rub the guts of the dead insect into his face. He clamps his hands around your wrists, twists them in horribly aching positions and forces them between his knees, which are wrapped around your lower back, as he digs in his various pockets and pouches. It's significantly harder to fight when five hundred pounds of troll is crushing your pelvis and your back is arched back. Your face goes red. You can't move at all. Your spine is bending, cracking, breaking. You can feel the vertebrae snapping. He frees your hands from between his legs and in the same instant traps them with zip ties. The crumbs of food in Mituna's carpet fade with the first bit of the fight left in you as your face drops to the floor. The Grand Highblood is crouched beside you now, humming a circus tune in your head distractedly as he slips his hands gently down to your ankles. You whimper, the stains on the carpet blurring with your tears. There's no use, anyway; you really did know all along that this was going to happen. The warm hands working on your ankles suddenly stop.
With your cheek squished against the floor you see The Grand Highblood floating in a staticy bubble of red and blue. His face is twisted in anger. Mituna stands, still behind the barrel of honey, his hair pulled back as beams of psiionic power keep The Grand Highblood in his place. "Go, I can hold the bastard back." Mituna says with a quaver in his voice. You immediately do as he says, standing on your unbound feet and running for the door, leaving your closest friend behind you to fend for himself.
What should you do next? What the hell should you do? Guilt will tear you apart if you don't help Mituna, but there's nothing you can do to revive the situation. Everyone else in the hive must be down on the count. You don't know where the police station is. You can't grab your phone. Hopefully the neighbors won't think you're pulling a prank. You stand in the doorway for only a few unsure moments before everything turns a hue of white and you feel like you've been doused with ice water. You don't know what happened but you're on the floor, unable to contain the jerky movements of your limbs. The only thing you can see is the blackness in the back of your head. Convulsions continue to rock through you but you manage to hear the zap and steady buzz of what you assume is a taser. You hear someone fall. Your seizure begins to fade away as your feet are tied together by a girl with a lifeless smile and knots in her hair. The Grand Highblood takes Aradia's place and throws you over his shoulder in one swift movement.
A wave of dizziness sweeps over you as you're jostled down the hall. When you pass the bathroom, you see Cronus poke his head out, eyes wide, watching as you go by. You make eye contact, desperate for help, and he nods firmly. "Hey, douche nugget!" He calls, The Grand Highblood swinging around and nearly colliding your head into the wall. That's not what you had in mind. "Come and get me, sugar!" Cronus entices with a quivering grin. There is no reaction from your abductor. You wish he would have just called the police. "What, I'm not good enough for you? I'm fuckin' royalty!" Maybe he already has? His efforts are fruitless; even if The Grand Highblood sets you down to capture him, there's no chance you could get away. It'd just be one more to add to The Grand Highblood's collection. One little troll, no matter how much he works out at the gym, will not be able to hold this guy back for any amount of time. It kind of is rather strange that Cronus is being ignored rather than attacked. The Ampora follows you all the way down the hall, chanting antagonistic terms, even daring to poke the scary troll, only to once again be ignored. You're slammed to the ground by the back door in the nutrition block and watch as the large juggalo shadows over the greaser. From the look on Cronus's face, The Grand Highblood must be scolding him. Cronus opens his mouth to speak but instead looks to the living room, where his chiseled face goes slack with shock.
You follow his gaze and see Eridan with quivering lips, tangled in his cape, his fins pressed flat against the side of his head. Purple blood trickles from his mouth. His legs and arms are in states similar to your own. With the older Ampora distracted, The Grand Highblood propels a fist out, connecting with the side of the seadweller's head. He instantly falls forward, catching himself with his arms, but the subjuggulator presses a boot into his back calmly. Just as you start to scoot towards him, still unsure of what you're going to do, you're once again enveloped in an ice coldness, and this time you can smell the hair on your body singeing. It doesn't release you for a long time and when it does, froth bubbles at the corners of your mouth. This time the convulsions are harsh. They hurt your neck, repeatedly slam your head into the tile. All you can do is watch the scene unfold around you with your cheek pressed against the cold floor. You have a good view of the living room, which wavers sickeningly, bouncing with your seizure, and you are surprised to see Terezi, bound with rope back to back with Sollux. His eyes are covered with a blindfold and he's slumped forward. Terezi, on the other hand, writhes around and growls from behind her duct taped mouth.
The duo is carried passed you and out the backdoor, Eridan dragged by Aradia, whose eyes trail you as she passes with indifference. A sudden ripple of nausea rolls through you and there's no time to even consider stopping the small spray of puke that shoots from your mouth. You hardly care that it seeps under your cheek and sticks in your hair or that it smells mephitic with fear. You don't care about anything. You know there's no escaping it this time. No one will rescue you and there will be no comfort from here on out. Writhing on the floor in your own bile, barely conscious and too frightened to think straight; that's the state in which you will die. Maybe not here, maybe not now, but you can feel it coming. Reality dives in and out of your awareness. Cronus shouts something at you, his face blurry and far away. You blink so you can hear him better and he's suddenly peering into your eyes, inches away. Desperately, you try to keep your eyes open, listen to what he has to say, respond, but they're so heavy...
The next time you open them, The Grand Highblood has taken the place of Cronus. Death hangs from his breath and paints your face, worse even than the bitter vomit that invades your nostrils. You want to pull away, spit in his face, cringe, but you blink. You see the sunset above you. You're careful not to look into the green ball, instead focusing on the yellow and blue rings circling it as The Grand Highblood carries you in his arms almost gently. This isn't reality. That is why you knew this would happen. It was inevitable, pre-planned, fate. The sky is bathed in gray clouds that swiftly breeze by with a small hungry rumble. Rain lightly splashes against your forehead, dribbles down your shirt. All around you are cool hues and comforting colors that offer no solstice. The most beautiful display you've ever seen. It's whipped away by the slamming of a van door that rips away the view, taking with it your freedom. You're left in artificial darkness, listening to the breathing and struggling of your friends until you finally give in and slip into an easy natural crepuscule.
Once again, any advice, criticisms, comments etc. are welcome and enjoyed! It gets more interesting from here, I promise. Major death and sadness. All that good stuff.