11.4 - Confrontation

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Lucinda's POV:
This was it.

After all the pain and suffering, I had finally made it. Mr.P would be just down the plant's hall. Glowing a light blue with walls of gray, the hall seemed to lead to a black void. I let out a heavy sigh and stuffed my hands in my pockets. I thought about what lengths I had gone through and everything I had done that brought me to this point. Rose, my mother, my father, Doggy, Bunny, and everyone else who suffered during this tragedy. They were my reasons.

My reasons why I pushed myself, closed myself off. I had grown alot since my sister was killed, and I learned how to do the same things she did. I taught myself the advanced sword and gun tricks that I struggled with for years. I forced myself to spill the blood of those who were once innocent beings living their lives for the sake of getting ahead. I forced myself to build walls around myself for the sake of others. I forced myself to pretend to not care, even though deep down I did.

Mr.P and the researchers thought I was a goner, yet here I stood. I realized that I wasn't just here for me. I was here for my family, my friends and Lucella. I felt everyone's anger towards Mr.P run through me. I was going to force answers out of him, no matter what. I didn't care if I had to kill him for them. The price that I was willing to pay was beyond expensive. I had absolutely nothing to lose. I let out a shaky sigh before speaking.

"This is where Mr.P is..." I said. Pony seemed nervous behind me, and Zizzy was silently trying to comfort him by putting a hand on his back. "Are we ready to face whatever is in there?" the zebra asked. I nodded while keeping a straight face. I was more than ready. "You seem pretty ready to tear this guy apart, Cindy," Pony added, his head down. I nodded once more. "I am," I replied, "I'll break him down until I get answers."

Pony seemed a bit intimidated. I couldn't blame him, but I also found it odd that he didn't notice the shift in me earlier. Then again, it had been a month since I last saw him and Zizzy. I let out a sigh before taking my gun out of my belt. I checked to make sure that it was loaded and that the safety was off. I took another deep breath, ignoring the pain in my lungs, and began to walk towards the entrance of the plant, where Mr.P was.

"Wait!"

I immediately stopped and turned around to find the source of the sudden voice. I nearly let out a gasp when I saw Georgie running towards us, his bat in his hands. He seemed as though he was out of breath. I turned back around, but kept my head facing my best friend. Why was he here? Weren't Zee and Zuzy supposed to watch over him? Did he have anything idea how dangerous it was here, especially at a time like this?

Luckily, Pony expressed my concerns for me. "Georgie!" He said, shocked at young pig's presence, "Aren't the sisters supposed to be watching you?" Georgie's face turned a light shade of red once he realized that he was in somewhat big trouble. He let out a light and nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his head. "I convinced them to play a game of hide and seek," he replied. I mentally facepalmed and sighed at his response.

"Why did you follow us, Georgie?" I asked him, and he turned to look at me shortly after, "You know how dangerous it was for you to come all this way at a time like this." His face immediately went from nervousness to determination before he replied. "I know, Cindy. I want...no, I need, to see the person who hurt our families," he explained. Then it hit me. I never told Zizzy or Pony about my family's killers in detail.

"They were killed by the infected."

That was all I had told them, and I found myself being thankful because of it. It would've broken Georgie's heart knowing that his family killed mine despite having spent years together. I decided that I would let Georgie find out of his own accord instead of me telling him directly. "Hm...I see," I muttered under my breath. Though it was dangerous, his reasons for being here were just as valid as my own. A nervous chuckle from Pony stopped my train of thought.

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