Story: "Zygote"
Synopsis: After Donnie's death, Gretchen and the town lose their memory of the tangent universe, and ever being part of the manipulated living (and dead) that helped Donnie sacrifice himself for the world. With time being reversed, and Gretchen being a new student at Middlesex High, she quickly begins to have nightmares of a past she can't remember or make sense of. When nightmares evolve into physical symptoms that begin presenting themselves at school, Gretchen gets an inkling that there's a particular book she needs to seek out in order to find answers. Meanwhile, the mysterious 'Frank' only adds to the strange works at hand.
*OCTOBER 30TH 1988*
Seven quick knocks came at the Darko's front door.
Donnie Darko was just fortunate enough to be standing beside it at the time: otherwise, he never would've heard it over the blaring music from inside the house.
Haphazardly swinging the door open, he was met with a disheveled Gretchen Ross; hair tossed about, and clothes looking sloppy.
"Hi," she said quickly.
"Hey," he replied eagerly.
Then he noticed the tears pricking at her eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
She held herself tighter.
"Yeah. My mom's gone." she looked down, before nervously meeting his eyes.
"You want to come in?" he motioned with his head over his shoulder.
"Yeah,"
Donnie stepped aside, allowing her to brush past him into the house.
He grabbed hold of her hand and led her through the small crowd of teens and college kids that were invading front the entrance as well as the bottom of the staircase.
They walked silently with each other, an air of anxiousness around them as they ascended the stairs.
Donnie's sister, Elizabeth, stared up after them as they disappeared up to the second floor.
So, this was the elusive "Gretchen" he'd mentioned about a week ago?
Elizabeth Darko thought to herself.
She guessed it was about time her brother had a little 'fun' himself.
"What do you think happened?" Donnie asked.
"I don't know, she didn't leave a note and the house was all messed up..." she whimpered.
"But you're okay?"
She looked down and nodded.
"Did you call the cops?"
"Yeah, they said I should leave the house, and that I should go to a safe place."
Donnie was glad that meant she felt comfortable enough to think of him first when 'safe' was mentioned, despite him being known as the town's 'juvenile delinquent'. Even if at times it felt like he was farthest from the case.
"I'm just so scared," she sobbed, Donnie brought a hand to her knee in comfort. "I keep thinking something awful is happening, and..."
"It's my freaking stepdad, I know it."
She shook her head and cried, but Donnie seemed to be somewhere else. Just staring a little way off at the ground.
She looked at him; just observing his face and features, taking in his profile and lips. Until he turned his head towards her, and his eyes met hers, drifting to her own lips.
She pulled down the hood of his jacket, their eyes both on each other's mouths now.
The air was starting to feel hot, and there seemed to be a certain chemical reaction going on below for the two of them.
"I guess some people are just born with tragedy in their blood," she stated, just before his lips collided with hers.
His kiss was powerful, and hungry. But it didn't scare her; it just felt right.
Going from one strong emotion to the next just felt natural to her for some reason. Like it was meant to be.
Soon enough they found themselves lying down on the bed, their kiss intensifying into many lustrous kisses.
They both reached for his jacket at the same time, pulling down on it to free themselves of some of the building heat between them.
She pulled at her own jacket shortly after.
Despite the beeping, and the sound of his mother leaving a concerned message in the background, neither of the teens even heard the phone ring.
Too enthralled with each other's bodies and exploring each other fully.
It was like a beautiful dance, moving together, in sync. He'd make one move, and she'd make the other. They fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces clicking into each other. It was like acceptance.
Love.
They descended the stairs in perfect sync, each feeling reborn and complete.
Holding hands and smiling.
They shared one more kiss at the bottom of the stairs, and Gretchen went off to the kitchen to get a beer.
Shortly after parting, Donnie started to make his way through the hall, and the entire room starting spinning. He felt a sharp pinching in his head and tried to shake himself of it, bracing himself against either side of the walls with his hands.
He felt his aura emanation oozing out of himself to stretch forward. He followed it tentatively as he watched it unfold.
It led him to the fridge, to discover a message hand-written on the dry-erase board.
"FrAnK wAs HeRe." It read. "WeNt To GeT bEeR."
Donnie then noticed that he was able to see everyone else's emanation at the party, his mind splitting off into all these other possibilities, and futures.
People walking, people chatting, he could see all of them.
He saw one emanation in particular, reaching out to him, beckoning him to follow it.
It led him into a long-distorted tunnel, with voices that reverberated in his head.
"The Cellar Door..." - he heard his English teacher, Karen's voice.
Grandma Death's statement of "All creatures dying alone,".
And all kinds of voices reaching out and talking.
His vision landed on a tiny orb; one that looked like a yolk sac. And a little dot, with a creature shaped like an upside-down fish-hook wriggling beside it. Almost playing with the orb. Or teasing it.
Eventually the two beings merged together and formed a full substance: like a zygote. Making its way down a long tube and burrowing itself in the wall of a dark dome.
"DoNnIe?"
He heard a voice call his name.
A girl's voice.
One that that sounded quite familiar...
"Donnie?" the voice repeated, breaking him from his trance. He was no longer in the tunnel.
He awoke to find himself on his knees. His hands on Gretchen's waist, staring directly at her stomach as she peered down at him in worry.
"What's wrong?" she asked him.
He didn't know how to explain it to her, or if she'd even believe him that he somehow knew that a tiny embryo was quickly developing inside her; but he felt a very sudden, overwhelming sense of responsibility for it, and his instincts told him he had to protect them.
Groggily getting to his feet, he noticed the beer in her hand.
"You didn't have any yet, did you?" his voice echoed in his head as hers echoed back at him when she spoke.
She lightly shook her head.
"No, why?"
"Come with me," he told her hurriedly, knocking the drink out of her hand, and grabbing hold of her wrist.
"Where are we going?" Her voice continued to echo as he pulled her along with him.
"Donnie -" she tried again, wondering what could be wrong.
He stopped for only a moment, telling her:
"Look, Gretchen. We gotta go,"
"Where?" she pleaded with him.
His face shifted to one of pain.
"We have to see Grandma Death,"
"Why, is this about the book?"
"I - No, it's Frank," he sighed exasperated. He wished he could explain everything to her; the book, how it was real. How she was involved in it, how he was the 'Living Receiver'. And how he knew if he didn't do something, she would forever be one of the manipulated dead.
But he couldn't.
He couldn't bear to tell her of her own death.
He didn't even want to believe it himself.
He just couldn't let it happen.
"Look - Time is running out! We gotta go!"
They left the party on their bicycles. Riding through the town, using the golf country club as a shortcut, going around the bend by Forster Street. All in an effort to prevent the end from happening.
When they finally arrived at the elder woman's house: Donnie stopped in his tracks.
They were at her cellar door.
It was almost like going to her would cause the end to happen, not solve it.
"Roberta Sparrow...Grandma Death." Donnie absently spoke aloud.
"Do you know her? Have you talked to her before?" Gretchen inquired softly, still confused as to their reason for being there.
"Once."
"I mean - She talked to me. And I really need to find her right now..."
"What for?" he fell silent, his eyes going to the ground.
"Donnie?"
Suddenly, Gretchen gasped, as two hands came up from behind her, and brought themselves over her mouth and neck.
A dark figure pulled her away from Donnie.
Donnie didn't miss a beat, but unfortunately Gretchen's assailant had a friend; and he soon found himself being dragged away by hands as well.
"Donnie-! "
"Don-!"
Gretchen gasped for air between strangles, only to be pushed to the ground and held at knife point by a panty-hose masked figure.
"Don't frickin' move! Don't MOVE!" they screamed down at her.
Donnie watched on helplessly, as his own masked assailant gripped his neck, and forced him to the ground.
"Gretchen!"
Soon enough the other figure was on top of him, pinning him down with his knees and hands.
"Donnie..." she exhaled in shallow breaths, choking and coughing as she tried to regain her composure.
"Let her go!" Darko yelled back at them.
"I think not," The taller assailant retorted, unable to conceal his mirth under his mask while he held Donnie down.
"Um, Seth. There's a car," the heavier thug warned, still standing over Gretchen.
Donnie knew right then who was taunting them.
"There's a car coming, let's go!"
"Did you call the freaking COPS?!" Seth shrieked.
"Deus..ex... machina," Donnie muttered under his breath as his fellow classmate choked him.
"What the hell did you just say?!"
"Our Savior..." Donnie told him, tilting his head as far as he could towards the unknown person in the distance.
Suddenly, Grandma Death appeared, standing firmly in the dirt road, an opened letter in her hand.
The car swerved off out of the way, and Gretchen gave one final scream of fright.
"Donnie -!"
The vehicle rolled over her. The front and back wheels making contact, forcing the last breath from her lungs as her ribs collapsed.
As the red car skidded to a stop, its passenger swung open its door frantically to see what damage had been done.
Seth and his buddy bolted from the scene, leaving Donnie to cope with the aftermath.
He rolled over on his side, quickly getting to his feet to meet Gretchen.
She was still on the ground. No movement except for the strands of her brunette hair, blowing in the night breeze.
He knew what had happened before he even knelt beside her.
It was just very hard to face the fact.
"Gretchen...?" he whispered to her softly. "Gretchen..."
He stroked her forehead with his right hand and caressed her stomach with his left.
He brushed away a few strands of hair that had blown onto her face and felt with his left hand that their tiny being-in-the-making was inevitably gone.
He was utterly heartbroken, though he only knew briefly of their existence.
He wondered how Gretchen would've felt about them, had he had the time to tell her...
"Frank,"
A worried, clown-costumed college kid chastised the driver of the red car.
Donnie felt tears welling up in his eyes as his lifted his head to face her killer.
A tall, fluffy, onesie-dressed man stared down at them in shock.
Gray fur, white tummy, and a twisted metal rabbit mask in his hands.
"Is she dead...?" he asked tentatively, his mind refusing to believe what his eyes were seeing.
Donnie rose from the ground. Hot tears spilling down his cheeks.
He stared back at the man menacingly.
Daring him to make a move, daring him to speak one more time.
Frank's demeaner changed.
He didn't like feeling threatened.
"What were you guys doing in the middle of the road? Huh?" he deflected. As if her death was somehow Donnie's fault, and not of his own actions.
"What were you thinking?"
Frank took no responsibility.
And Donnie was having none of it.
Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket, and produced the small pistol he had been struggling to pull out earlier on Seth.
Aimed directly at Frank's head, he waited until he could see the fear cross the other man's face.
And, just as he was about to move; Donnie pulled the trigger.
BANG!
A loud crack resounded off the hills and echoed into the night.
Donnie lowered his weapon just as the man-rabbit doubled backward and fell flat to the ground. Dead.
A life for a life.
The Clown back peddled, stumbling in place as Donnie eyed him next.
"Go home!" Darko yelled at him, waving his gun off to the side.
"Go home and tell you parents everything's going be okay!"
The Clown didn't need to be told twice, he doubled backward once again, and sprinted off into the distance. Trying his hardest to get as far away as he possibly could.
Donnie knew that Grandma Death had gotten his letter. However, he didn't understand why she didn't help him or seek him out.
Just as his faith was starting to further crumble, she came up behind him and brought a gentle hand to his shoulder, jolting him back to reality.
"The storm is coming," she told him. "You must hurry."
"I don't want to..." he admitted defeatedly. His eyes betraying him once again as another tear slipped down his cheek.
"You must," she whispered. "You can save her..."
His head finally turned to face hers, his voice cracking:
"How?"
*OCTOBER 2nd, 1988*
"What's going on?" Gretchen Ross stopped her bike, planting her shoes on the ground, and holding tightly to her handlebars.
She was at the end of a long road, staring over at a house surrounded by police cars and ambulances.
A young, short-haired blond boy stood beside her, gazing on at the happenings across the street.
He looked despondent, and troubled.
The last thing she wanted to experience when her and her mother fled her father's abuse was more trouble in another state.
Yet here she was, and here there appeared to be trouble.
"A horrible accident," the boy replied.
She swallowed, shifting slightly on her bike's seat.
"My neighbor; got killed."
"What happened?" she asked tentatively.
The boy didn't hesitate to respond.
"Got smushed by a jet engine."
"That's awful." she breathed out, staring on at the scene.
A woman stood by at the tree out front of the crushed in house, smoking a cigarette, and looking dead inside.
A man holding a little girl and wailing loudly stood a way off next to her, and a young woman with tear-streaked mascara cried on silently beside him.
It was horrible.
"What was his name?" Gretchen asked after a while, feeling helpless and useless.
"Donnie," the kid responded. "Donnie Darko."
"Hm.." she mumbled quietly to herself.
"I feel bad for his family," the kid stated.
"Yeah," Gretchen agreed.
"Did you know him?" he asked.
She thought for a moment.
She didn't know why; it should've been a simple answer.
She just moved to Middlesex, so there was no way she could have known him.
But still, there was a weird hesitation on her part. Almost like his name sounded, or even felt familiar.
"No.." she shook her head lightly.
She locked eyes with the grief-stricken woman across the street smoking her cigarette. Presumably the mother of the young man.
Something about her made her feel an immense sadness for the loss of the stranger's son.
In some way, she felt like she could feel the woman's pain.
Or understand her loss.
It was like somehow; they'd met before or knew each other. But she couldn't figure out when or where.
Absentmindedly, Gretchen slowly raised her hand in a gesture of acknowledgement.
Not quite a wave, but more like a; "I'm here, I see you. I'm sorry for what happened."
The woman looked surprised. For a moment, almost broken from her sorrow.
She pulled her free hand out of her pocket, and proceeded to wave rather awkwardly, with a slight corner-smile tugging at her lips.
It wasn't a pleasant day, or even a pleasant time to get acquainted with someone, but it was nice; being acknowledged in an understanding way, as opposed to gawked at by her other nosey neighbors.
Kitty expressed her false sorrows earlier, but Rose hadn't listened.
She knew that the devil-of-a-woman probably felt "safer" without her 'trouble-causing sleep-walking son' about, as she so tactfully put it before, when she tried to raise the concerns of others in the community.
It didn't fully take with everyone in town, of course. Perhaps because the Darko's were of a higher financial status than the other people about Middlesex and had a much more respectable reputation before Donnie had started his troublemaking at age 14-15. But still, it was nice to know which people truly supported her family, and which ones didn't.
Anyway, now there was a new family in the neighborhood. One with a daughter, apparently. She seemed to be just about her son's age.
Funny. If this hadn't happened, Donnie might have even gone to school with this new girl.
Her being 'new', maybe she wouldn't have been privy to Donnie's past antics and wouldn't have been scared off like some of the other kids.
Maybe she and him would've been fast friends, and she could've even kept him out of trouble.
Rose Darko took one last puff of her cigarette and threw it out on the ground, snubbing it out with her slipper.
Wishful thinking, no doubt.
If her son ever made friends with a girl, with her luck they'd turn up pregnant.
She wrapped her robe more tightly around herself, and grimaced at the cold morning air.
Although she supposed there were worse things that could happen.
Who was she kidding?
She'd take alive and reproducing over 'dead' any day.
Screw consequences.
There was just nothing that could fill the void in her heart now.
A/N- I plan on trying to incorporate more of the original biblical themes from the cut version of the film if I can. Until then, I will get back to plotting out where I want to take the rest of the story. However, I am open to any of your input, and will consider it with the upcoming chapters. Thanks for reading. ;)