CONTAINS CONTENT:
Threat, strong violence, gore, attack, mild SA, force, foreboding, hanging onto life, stabbing / slicing. Strong language.
{{Unedited}}
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The first thing that comprehended was that she couldn’t feel her legs. In fact, she couldn’t feel anything, and the world around her was blurred and upside-down; she couldn’t make heads or tails of. All that registered was an intense ringing in her ears that was suddenly coupled by harsh pain that shot up her left arm as she tried to use it to push herself up from the ground – how did she get on the ground? – which she realized was cold… really cold. Frozen.
Realization was beginning to dawn… they were in trouble. Once she was aware that she was conscious and not dead or dreaming, she sat back on her butt, which ached in a way that told her that she was probably bruised badly if not broken in the upper leg, tailbone, or one of her hips.
Not only was the world a blur, but it was still dark out. In the distance a hundred feet or so back from where the bike was – wait, had she skidded or slipped that far? Or was she dragged? Nothing made sense – she thought that she could make out a shadowy black figure as it moved toward something dark splayed on the ground. The dark figure lifted it, and jabbed something upward in its middle.
Then more realization hit her as she hard blinked several times… the something was Austin, the shadowy figure was probably Tundra, and what he’d just jabbed into Austin’s lifeless body was long, silver, and glittering even in the darkness. Now it was also dripping.
Internally she was screaming, externally she looked like something just raised from the dead, confused, and unable to move.
Her legs wouldn’t respond to her, and she didn’t know why. In the blur, she could see them and neither appeared broken. Reaching up, she found her earpiece missing. A quick glance at the ground didn’t reveal its location.
The black figure seemed to stand, get on his own bike, and ride it back toward her. But instead of stopping adjacent to her broken body, he pulled back a good ten to fifteen feet and stopped – engine rumbling – and staring at her.
Her eyes were just starting to clear, and she could make out his visage, helmeted and glaring at her like she was a wounded animal, dying in the street.
She mentally reached out to Austin and was horrified when she found her mind blank. Panic gripped her throat as it went painfully dry and dropped into her stomach.
The figure removed his helmet, setting it behind him and began to move like a cat hunting its prey; both hands on the seat as if he was holding it down; he swung his leg over.
Panting, he began toward her…
This was Austin, alright; she could tell by his movements and the way that he walked.
Something was wrong with him. She’d always known this of course, but she hadn’t tried to assess it when they encountered him in the van on their way to Kingdom.
It was his eyes, she thought. They were distant; hollow, but they echoed something terrifying and deadly back from a void somewhere within.
If Austin’s theme song was something like Crash into Me by Dave Matthews, then this guy’s theme song was more like Closer by Nine Inch Nails.
The closer that he got, the more she begged her legs to move again; they wouldn’t, so instead she tried to turn onto her stomach and crawl, but was frozen… against what? She didn’t know. She was fixated on him like an oncoming train.
He paused and gave her a smile that made her so uncomfortable that she felt like she was coming clean out of her skin. The devil himself was proud of that smile.
Finally, he spoke, “Hi, Marielle,” he said flatly. Then he grinned at her the way that a snake grins at a mouse before he swallows it whole, “God, it’s good to see you again.” She tried again to move; to scurry away as strange, throaty croaks came from her mouth. He lifted his hands as if to try and hush her, but his knife was in one of them and it waved in front of his face with each movement. “Oh, nonono, you don’t have to be afraid of me,” he soothed. Then a slow, demonic, mischievous grin came over his mouth. “Well…” he began, “Actually, maybe you do,” he added with a look that said that she knew that he couldn’t lie to her.
She was reaching, lifting a hand back towards Austin’s body. “Au-Austin,” she was trying to get out.
He threw a glance over his shoulder at the lump in the street. “Oh, him? He’s out… I’ve made sure of that.” He gleefully put the tip of the blade between his lips and twisted it against his teeth, “He’ll die soon. I’ve made sure of that, too.”
“N-no…” She tried again to stand, and this time she found her legs and began up on them as they wobbled, desperate to get to Austin. “Austin!”
“Austin,” he mocked, in an altogether too familiar tone, except this was malicious. “Austin.” Then he looked from Austin’s body back to her and a hearty laugh bellowed from inside as realization pooled in his blue eyes. “You love him, don’t you?” he asked, eyes dancing with excitement. He looked her in the eye, searching her and how her eyes were pleading for him. “You love him!” He pumped a fist in the air. “Fail, Vincent!” He cried at the sky. Then he came closer to her, and with one of his gloved hands, he dragged his fingertips down the front of her face, and gave her a deeply compassionate look. “Oh darling, you love me,” he whispered, putting his fingers to the sides of her face. The knife was still in one of his hands.
“You… are not him,” she hissed.
He grinned at her wryly, pulling here taut against his hard body, “Oh, you misunderstand. I’m not him, he’s me. It’s only me, Marielle. And you will have no other gods before me.”
“You… are not God,” she spat. He snickered, shaking his head at her adoringly. She tried to fight, but nothing was working, “You’re a psychopath,” she growled.
He only pressed more into her, “Oooh, Marielle. Call me a psychopath again, I kind of liked it,” he chuckled, sardonically
She was lifting her hands, trying to push him back. “No… no, please. Please let me go.” She didn’t have full control of her body back; again, she found that very little was responding. Then it became worse. He lifted a hand, angrily ungloved it, and sent a spray of cold at her that was enough to render her immobile. It was so frigid that it felt like she’d fallen off a bridge into an icy river. She went to her knees, convulsing so hard that she felt like her ribs were going to shatter and her last meal was going to come up all at once. He came to her and held her from behind, leaning into her ear. “Go? You’re not going anywhere except with me. You’re mine now,” he whispered, gently kissing the back of her left ear. “You were always mine.”
He smelled like Austin. Her head spun. -Austin. She begged. –Austin, please wake up!
Tundra ground his teeth together. -I told you, he’ll be dead soon. Tundra’s voice echoed in her head. -He’s not real, anyways, Marielle. I’m real.
Marielle’s head flopped back against his chest, “Get out of my head!” She demanded through clenched teeth.
He lifted a finger and traced it down her cheek, her neck, and slipped it under her shirt, “No… we’ve always been in each other’s heads,” he purred. “Darling.”
She crumpled, trying to fall forward and away from him, but he kept her there. “Please, please let me go,” she begged, still unable to move from the ice coursing through her veins. She was going into a state of shock. “I’ll do anything you say, just please let me save him!” She cried, reaching for Austin again.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be together soon,” he whispered. “I have my own plans now. I won’t let Cory hurt you anymore.” He squeezed her little arms, and gently ran his hands up and down her curves. “No, darling, you’re coming home with me… finally. We’ll be us again.”
All Marielle could think to do was pray. God… God, please…
-Yes?
She felt a wave of nausea overtake her at that, and bit back the pain that was seizing her core as she continued to freeze. He was continuing to kiss her, her neck, her shoulder where he bit, hard enough that she bled and cried out in anguish.
Summoning all her strength – which wasn’t much – she pushed him and he fell backward, smacking briefly against the ground. In that moment, she fell to her stomach, knowing that her mouth was bleeding from the crash and began to try and crawl away. One of her legs was definitely broken, or sprained.
She couldn’t stand Tundra’s ice, but Austin could. “Austin!” She screamed, forcing one small push towards him before she was spent and collapsed, fingers stretched out toward Austin’s body.
Tundra was on her, again, this time yanking her up by her hair and pulling her against him. “That was stupid, Marielle.” He glared at her with razor sharp blue eyes. “You’re my wife, you do as I say.”
“I’m not your wife…” She whimpered.
“You’re gonna learn to obey me,” he growled shaking his head slowly, and glowering down at her. “And I’m gonna break you for that.”
Marielle kept her eyes on Austin, willing him to move, get up, breathe.
Tundra must have sensed this because he whipped her around, away from facing him. Marielle sobbed, and Tundra was gently fingering her lips, parting them and pressing a finger in to mingle with her tongue. When he pulled his hand away, he looked at his fingers, stained with her blood… “Red,” he breathed, excitedly. He took her blood and smeared it over her mouth like lipstick. She tried to jerk away, he grabbed her forearm and pulled her against him. “Like your lips, the night that you screwed Vincent.”
“My lips…were black that night,” she gagged.
“In my world? They were red… because you fucking loved me!” He raged.
She sobbed again, unable to move as he jerked her against him, forcing her to partially straddle him as he pressed his hips into her lower half.
***
He wasn’t even aware that he was on his knees, leaning awkwardly as the world tilted.There was no sound in either of his ears except for piercing ringing and all visuals were indistinct. His first thought was… this isn’t good. His next thought was… where is Marielle? I need to help her.
Then his vision cleared a little bit and he wasn’t sure if he was dead or not, because what registered was that he was looking at… himself, or at least that’s what he thought. For a moment nothing connected in his mind, except that maybe he was dead and had fallen outside of his own body. But that made no sense… the body, his body was moving.
Sound slowly crashed back into his ears, and then disappeared again, like breaching the surface of water only to be dragged back down.
He clapped his hands over his ears, wincing in terrible pain.
He also heard the body speaking. It was him, alright; his voice, he knew it well. But what was he doing?
Austin’s heart slammed into his throat, and his neck. Tundra… Tundra was on his knees, and he was holding someone against him from behind. Marielle. Oh my God.
He slipped a little, trying to remain quiet but having little sense of direction as his vision blurred out again, and at this, he lost hearing once more.
Something was really wrong in his body. Instinctively, he knew that he was dying.
As his memory fuzzed in, he recalled that before he’d lifted his head, he’d heard Tundra say- “What, him? He’s out. I’ve made sure of it. He’ll die soon. I’ve made sure of that, too.”
I’m definitely dying, but I’m not out, you fucker.
He tried to stand, but not only were his knees scrambled eggs, there was ice all over the ground. This was the first moment that he realized how cold it was; freezing in fact. It wouldn’t hurt him, but he could feel it all the same. He knew this wasn’t good for Marielle.
His eyes focused once more. One of Tundra’s hands was around her neck, the other had a blade in it, sharp and glittering in the dark as he pointed it at her mouth- and while he was doing this, he took his hand off her neck, and snaked it down her right side, over her chest, and to her breast where he squeezed.
I have to get to her…
He slipped again, but moment by moment he was getting more of his bearings. He still knew that he was dying, but the only thing that he could think was I can’t do this to her… him. I can’t let him do this to her.
He stood again and the searing pain in his right leg told him that it was broken. He knew that if the world would just stop spinning a little bit, he could do something, anything.
“Austin!” He heard that.
–Phase through him… phase through him… phase through him, darling. Get away. Or give me a moment to figure this out.
He tried to beam those thoughts into her mind, uncertain of whether he was close enough or not. They’d never tested their range.
Despite his determination to get to them, Austin had to lean over for a moment and cough. Blood spattered the ice beneath him; he had no idea how but he was on his knees again. He stared for a moment at the spots of deep red that he’d just expelled. Also, not good. Okay, just get to Marielle. He was having a hard time breathing. In and out felt like air trying to force itself through something like a fishing net stuffed into his lungs. Punctured… he thought, lifting a hand, and feeling… he felt his flesh opened and what he was pretty sure was his lung. The fact that he registered very little pain was terrifying. He shook his head. No, stabbed. With his right hand, he frosted over the wound. That wouldn’t hold him long, but maybe long enough.
He hard blinked several times and forced himself to his feet. –Phase through him, Marielle. Come on, darling. I know you’re scared. I’m here. I’m coming. You can do this.
He lumbered forward, stumbling a little and knowing that if he didn’t use every ounce of focus to walk, he’d slip on the ice again… the ice, right, he moved off it.
Marielle was whimpering; his ears went silent again. Something was in his eyes… blood. He wiped it from his forehead. Where was he bleeding from?
His hearing came back for a moment and his visuals cleared. He saw Marielle peel away from him after having apparently leaned back, and phasing through, her back slapping against the ice, unable to move as she pulled her knees slowly through him as well. She’s hurt. He’s frozen her, hasn’t he?
Tundra was in a state of pleasure for a moment before he laughed, wickedly. Then he turned and looked down at her as she heaved in pain, and tried to slowly move away. She was growling in frustration; her body stiff.
Tundra straddled her body, but didn’t sit on her. They were facing away from him as Austin came towards them. “Good girl…” he said, pleased. “Oh, how I have missed that move.” He lumbered over her, laughing at her torment. “Oh, how I…have…missed… that move. Let’s try again,” he said, jerking her lifeless body up against him. “One more time, we both know that you can do it.”
“P-please,” she begged, her tears freezing to her face. “Oh, God…”
“God?” he laughed, lifting his hands, the blade in his right, gleaming. “If you’re going to beg, and pray… then you’re going to get on your knees and beg and pray to me!” He was starting to force her to her knees, and when he got her down there, he ran his fingertips down her face as he came back around behind her, pulling the back of her head against his crotch. “I’m going to cut your tongue out and then make Kirra heal you that way, so you can’t tell me no anymore!” He put the tip of the blade to her lips, slicing one so that she bled. She was so cold that she hardly felt it…but that red that he loved so much dripped down off her chin. “Eat my knife,” he whispered gently. “Come on,” he urged, and Austin’s stomach churned and twisted at his tone; it was so calm that it was like he was speaking to a child, asking her to give him a hug. “Eat my knife,” he repeated.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she whimpered, trying to formulate a thought or a plan in her mind. She knew that she had to be careful, he’d be able to read her thoughts. It was as the blade was passing between her lips that he sang the lyrics to the song, “Cease to exist…” He…was…insane…
-Marielle… don’t look, but I’m coming. I can’t see or hear, and I’m dying.
All that came back was. -Help me! And Austin was grateful for that, because he knew that if she’d responded as if he was up, it would have drawn Tundra’s attention.
Austin staggered and slammed into Tundra’s body from behind, knocking him away, and when he stumbled and went to the ground, Austin lifted his trembling blood covered left hand and frosted over his double’s face, knowing that that would only last mere seconds.
Austin dropped to his knees, looking up at Marielle, she knew instantly that he was good for the grave, his teal button up was soaked in thick, red blood, and it was trickling out between his lips. -Listen to me, don’t respond. Just do what I’m about to tell you. I can’t see, and I can barely hear. I’m dying. Reach through my hand, and take my tattoo gun. There’s one bullet, Marielle, use it well.
He forced a soft smile at her as his head was starting to spin.
She nodded, rapidly, knowing that she’d once again have to gather every bit of strength that she had.
Austin reached out behind his back and spread his fingers, Marielle pushed herself forward just enough to move her hand through his where she found the snake gun, and took hold of the grip, relieving him of it. As she did, Austin collapsed to the pavement.
Tundra clawed the last bit of ice off his face, and was raging as he stood back up only to find a trembling, pallid Marielle with a white pistol in her hand. He froze…she froze… She fired. Bullseye… Tundra went down, and his head rolled to the side as a hole spurted red blood from between his eyes; dead.
Marielle collapsed onto Austin, and shaking, she forced herself to move, reaching up she found his earpiece. Sobbing, she yelled into it, “Help us!” She put a shaky hand to Austin’s chest. He was still alive. “Please, help us! Austin is dying!”
Austin was seeing something that looked like flames dancing in front of his face. There were several of them; large, orange and gold balls of fire moving in circles in the darkness. Torches? Bodies seemed to dance on the other ends of poles where these fireballs lived. They were all nude. He was in the middle of this weird circle, also nude… he was only seven.
Amid the fire circle, he could distantly hear a voice, “Austin… Austin, please stay… Please… I’m with you.”
***
The doors to the medical ward at the Italian Valorant building burst open as Vincent, Chamber, and Kirra wheeled Marielle and Austin in on gurneys and put them side by side, with Sabine and John frantically working to hook them up to all the machines.
Needles pierced their skin, mechanical devices were whirring up, and lights were dangling, bright and blinding over their faces.
Austin’s head rolled to look at Marielle, his face spattered in red, one eye dark and dilated. –I love you so much. Was all that he said.
Chamber reached down and took Austin’s hand, squeezing it. “Stay with us,” he whispered.
Austin wouldn’t remember that later.
Vincent turned to Kirra, “Her?” he asked.
Kirra’s eyes were constantly leaking tears as it was becoming clear what she was going to have to do. She began reading the machine hooked up to Marielle, “Uh, she’s going into shock… severe frostbite, fractured leg, bruising, one of her fingers is broken, she’s bleeding from a…a bite on the shoulder.” She squeaked out.
Vincent looked to Austin, eyes wide, but fixed. “Him?”
Kirra broke. “He’s…” She shook her head, rapidly, “dying…” she moaned. “Collapsed lung, concussion, brain bleed, broken leg, stab wound puncturing his right lung.”
“Heal…her,” Austin wheezed.
Everyone’s wide, incredulous eyes focused on him as silence engulfed the room, only the EKG beeped. “Wei Ling, when you get here come directly to Austin,” Sabine was saying into her earpiece. “We’re in the medical room.” A faint agreeing reply came through.
Vincent leaned in, inches from Austin’s face. One of his eyes was turning red. “Austin, listen to me,” he said in a deadly serious tone, “you are actively dying. Wei Ling is on her way, but she may not make it. If Kirra heals Marielle first, you probably will not make it.”
Austin glared at Vincent, trying to convey his insistence, “Heal…her…” he growled, through his teeth.
Marielle was sobbing, “No!” She cried, reaching a hand out to Austin. She was too far to actually touch him.
“I understand completely, I would do the same thing,” Vincent said quickly, then he turned to Kirra. “Heal her,” he ordered.
“Oh no,” Kirra sobbed, obeying, but knowing exactly what this meant. “No, no, no…” she moaned, putting her hands to Marielle’s face. Color came back into Marielle’s pallid cheeks, her gray lips became pink and flush again, and her wounds closed.
Austin was gazing into the bright light hanging above his head, and he was beginning to breathe in a way that sounded like he was choking on something…the room went silent; his own blood. The wound in his chest squelched with every sharp breath.
The moment that Kirra felt that Marielle had taken all her power, she let go of Marielle and rushed to Austin, putting her hands onto his face. There was nothing left in her, but she tried to find something- anything to help him, even if for a moment longer. “Nonono, not again. I can’t do this again,” Kirra was pleading, eyes squeezed shut. “Not you… Not you!”
Marielle slowly sat up, dizzy, terrified, and finding Austin dying on the table next to her, she spilled off her own gurney and went to him. “No, Austin, no!” She screamed. “Stay!” She ordered. “I need you to stay!” She sobbed, laying her head against his chest. She could barely make out a heartbeat, it was faint and slowing by the moment. “No, keep going, Austin, keep going, please,” she pleaded.
Kirra was a mess, pressing her finger tips into his head hard enough to indent, and pleading still.
John wrapped his arms around Sabine and turned her away from the scene.
Vincent came alongside of Austin and traded Chamber’s hand for his own. Austin’s eyes blurred and focused on Vincent’s face. Vincent squeezed Austin’s hand. He couldn’t read Vincent’s mind, but he knew what Vincent was telling him… It was gentle, but firm, and clear-
Just die… You’ve done your job, brother. You did well… now just… die. It’s okay. You’re surrounded by people who care about you. I’ll take care of her, and you can rest at last… Just…die…
Chamber was eyeing Vincent; he could read this as well.
Austin looked back up into the light…the balls of swirling flame… the nude bodies… and he could feel himself start to finally reach for death.
“Come on!” Kirra screamed, pressing her fingertips into his temples. “Come on!”
In a moment of insanity – or perhaps brilliance – Marielle crawled on top of him, straddling his body. “No!” She was screaming. She reached down into his chest, where she phased, found his heart, and wrapped her fingers around it, trying to sync their heartbeats.
“W-what… is she doing?” Sabine asked, eyes wide with something that resembled disgust warring with awe.
Vincent sighed and glanced at Sabine. “She’s trying to keep his heart going,” he said flatly. He looked back to Austin, and again he urged, gently. Come on, Austin… just die. It’s okay. It’s okay, brother.
Austin choked again…then again…
Marielle could see the life begin to flee as she continued to massage his heart, even attempting to force it to pump… it was no use. It ta dum’d… tad dum……….ta dum…….ta……… There was a brief pause, as she held the fading thing in her hands, sobbing. The entire room froze as he jerkily sucked in his last breath.
No one made a sound or moved for what seemed like an eternity.
Then a voice from behind them, “No! You will not die, today!” And everyone broke down when Wei Ling rushed to his side, and filled him with life again. Liam and the others burst in behind her.
Austin’s back arched and he took in a deep pull of air like he’d been under water for several minutes as his skin returned to its pale coloring, his eye cleared of blood, his lung wound sealed up, the concussion melted away, and the bleed in his brain vanished.
Marielle collapsed onto him, crying and he held her with one arm as someone inserted an IV into the other.
Vincent hung his head and nodded, defeated. “Good,” he whispered. “Good.”
The room teemed with joy, relief, and tears, overflowing into laughter for a few moments.
But Vincent had disappeared.
Out in the hall, he paused, standing tall, his knuckles to his chin. A hand on his shoulder turned him around; Chamber. No words were necessary. Chamber knew what Vincent had just been thinking; he’d seen the look on Vincent’s face. They stared at one another for a moment before Vincent collapsed against Chamber, holding him close and sobbing.
“I know,” Chamber whispered, patting him on the back. “Je comprends. Je sais à quoi tu pensais.” Then he fully wrapped his double up against him and simply held onto him as the other man broke.
The difficult and emotional part of this would have been done if Austin had just died in there.
Fate… It was a cruel mistress.
The medical room was full of laughing, but shortly thereafter the entire team realized that not a single soul was truly happy as they returned to the rental mostly in silence.
They packed the same way…and a little less than an hour later they boarded their flight home, carrying two bodies; a friends, and an enemies.
Both Austin and Marielle sat in total silence on opposite ends of the plane the entire way back. Vincent boxed Marielle in against the window and held her quietly the whole way. She was voiceless the entire thirteen hours back… Vincent glanced back; Austin was staring at the wall, and he didn’t see him move once.
Marielle was unresponsive as she stared at an empty chair… which held a blue cloak that once rested on Sasha’s shoulders as if it was simply keeping the space for him until he returned. He never would.
No, Marielle, listen… who was I, really. Who are any of us?
You are the hunter.
She felt nothing.
Glancing back around the seven-hour mark, she saw Austin. He was either asleep, or pretended to be for the rest of the flight.
Once they were back, Vincent insisted that Marielle, Austin, and Chamber stay in the rooms at Valorant. Marielle and Austin needed to be watched, and with supporting friends. Both were experiencing severe trauma, and neither had spoken much. He asked Chamber to stay in the room adjacent Austin to help him keep watch, which he agreed to.
Marielle briefly twisted and flinched at the ghostly memory of Sasha standing guard there, this brought a wave of panicked tears to her eyes, and Vincent swept her into his arms and carried her into their room.
That evening, in the same bed that Marielle had only a few weeks prior removed her shorts in an attempt to seduce Vincent, Vincent crawled into bed with her, held her against him, and refused to let go the entire night as he hushed her, and gently kissed her shoulder blades and bare back.
Austin… alone and more than a little confused in the room adjacent, set fire to the two adult magazines that had been left in his room in the wastebasket from the bathroom.
He sat on the cold bathroom floor, watching them go up in flames. As the fire grew, he opened his wallet and began tossing photos of women wearing little to nothing except red from the flap that held photographs in with the magazines.
He looked at his right hand as it pulled back from the wastebin. It was shaking violently. He placed it on top of his bald head, and dragged it down the side of his face. Nothing was working in his head. Who am I? The fire reminded him of the torches that he’d kept seeing in his head, the twisted crown of branches. Who am I? He put a hand over his heart.
Did I die?
He found a strong heartbeat, there, and his eyes returned to the trashcan where he watched a photograph of a woman’s heart-shaped red mouth bubbled, blistered, blackened, and curled. Why am I asking myself if I died, I’m obviously not dead.
The picture curled away into nothing but bright orange for a moment… Did I die?
He eyed another picture; this one was turned away from him, he had no idea what was on the front. But it was blistering and peeling the same as the other.
His fingertips worried his left eyebrow as the same thoughts past through his mind over and over again.
This made him wonder something; something that just wouldn’t leave him alone as night began to melt into day.