Through Hard Times. (Fantastic Foursome Fanfiction)

Picking Up the Pieces

I was sitting alone in the dark; nothing around me was visible. It seemed like I was just floating in nothingness. Then Phil appeared in front of me, staring at me with cold blue eyes.

“Phil?” I asked, my voice echoing around us, “Phil, what’s going on? Where are we?” But he just stared at me. I shifted uncomfortably and tried to stand up, but I was stuck. I looked around wildly, “Phil? Phil, help me up!” I said, growing a little panicked. Why can’t I get up? Why can’t I get up?! But he just stood there, “PHIL!” I called, “PHIL! Why won’t you answer me?!” But then he just turned around and walked away, stopping maybe a few paces away.

“Get her.” He muttered, shaking his head in disgust as he continued walking.

“Phil?” I whispered, who was he talking to? But then I saw red eyes peer through the darkness. I tried to scoot back, but I was still stuck and felt my body shake as Daryl barreled towards me through the darkness, his fingers stretching into claws.

“Come here, you lil’ whore!” He growled as he shoved his claw into my gut, twisting around painfully. I let out a scream and gripped around the entry wound, my insides burning. Phil appeared behind Daryl the same cold eyes staring at me, his face emotionless. Daryl took his other claw and sliced it across my face leaving three marks across my already bruised cheek, I screamed again,

“Phil! Phil, please! Help me!” I cried. Daryl pulled back and crouched in front of me,

“He doesn’t care about you.” He whispered, someone chorusing with him from behind me. I turned my head to look behind me and saw my father. I gasped as I took him in, looking the same as he did, his face still mask of evil as he grinned at me, slowly twirling a knife between his fingers, “No one will ever about you.” And with that my father finally sliced my throat, blood spraying everywhere as I screamed one last time before dying.

v  v  v

“Melanie!” Someone shouted, grabbing my shoulders, but I couldn’t process anything. I’m lost. I’ll always be lost. No one will ever come find me, “Melanie! Wake up!” I wrenched myself away from the person and let out a sob.

“Just stop hurting me.” I begged, “Please. Stop.” The person removed their hands from my shoulder and started whispering in my ear,

“Melanie, please, it’s me, Phil,” He muttered, trying to roll me back to face him. I slowly relented, and was met with his blue eyes, rimmed in red and full of concern.

“Phil?” I asked, hugging myself as he pulled me onto his lap with the blanket still wrapped around me. Tears continued to fall down my face as he sat there, holding me tightly. He’s gone, I tried reassuring myself. He is dead and gone. He can’t hurt me. He can’t.  

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, speaking as softly as he could, but I shook my head. I don’t want to talk to anyone about anything. “Maybe we should go and get some breakfast.” He added, lifting me up as he made his way through the hall, carrying me bridal style, being careful to not let me bump into any of the walls. He set me down on the couch and I pulled the blanket around me, absent mindedly touching the swollen side of my face as Phil made some hot cocoa and toast.

“I supposed now’s not the time to say: ‘I told you so,’” I heard a voice mutter sadly from behind me.

“Shut up, Dan.” Phil said harshly from the kitchen. I just sat there, looking out the window, not really caring about anything.

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood.” Dan said, clearly hurt, his voice slightly cracking.

“Just don’t.” Phil snapped, bringing the mugs and toast over to the coffee table. “Here, eat. It’ll make you feel better,” He reassured, handing a slice of toast to me. I took a small bite and then set it down, my jaw aching as I chewed slowly. We just sat there for a few minutes, Phil eating as he sat down next to me and Dan standing awkwardly behind us.