Lost + Found

Christopher Sickly

:Author's Note:
This chapter is not spell checked, if you think this will annoy you, am sorry, I may go back and correct things later! There is also a lot of things in this story that won't be completely factually correct, so if that bothers you to, than do ad you shall.

But for now,
Please enjoy!

!!WARNING!!
Scenes in the chapter describe knife crime and slight gore, with trauma from nightmares. If those are things you feel you might not be so comfortable with, continue with caution or click off.
Thank You!

POV: Nova

Gentle feet confidently making their way out the hotel door and down the left side of a very gritty grey concrete pathway. And to a short suprise, people of all qualities, huddled behind barricades of thin metal fences and security guards.

I remember him telling me how those gentle feet had just fancied paying their fans some respect, and how he regretted it, for the years of trauma it gave him after.

Furiously those off all genders and sizes started pushed through, egging those gentle feet for a photo or an autograph. He wasn't one to refuse, shy of guilt and so he went down the line, signing and taking photos of each card and camera that was waved in his face.

As he had turned the bed in the fencing, those gentle feet had become cold and stern. They had noticed a man, tall, pushing at the back of a small girl who had been there this whole time. "Stop Pushing!", He has reformed, trying to get this person with a strangely familiar face, to stop rangling the girl bellow him. "Look listen man, I'm not gunna sign your shit, if you keep pushing her!"

His stern feet pressed forward and his had grabbed the small girl to support her, but he had done exactly opposite. Like the sleak sound of metal sharpened by a rock, was the shilling sound that ran through his ears. The sky burning black from the random blue it was only seconds before. Those feet pressed back, agasp, as he stared in shock. The two prior, looked beyond human, their eyes piercing his face, nothing but black and blue goop, gouging out their eyes qnd mouth. And their voices swapped.

This is the part I always remember. Daddy tells my I'm lucky he let's me sleep in their bed, and papa tells me I'm lucky I don't have those sorts of problems.

"Jonny," The girls voice was soft spoken low like it belonged to the man above her, electronica, sounding like the pits of hell had fired from her. "Why did you stab me in the back?"

They spoke in unison. The man's voice sweet like it belonged to the girl below him, but also sonic, like Saten himself had drooled out his vocals. It petrified those feet to be frozen, and for the time it took, everyone had disappeared, but the nauseous sight before him.

They were still, silent. But I remember the way my daddy's face had contorted as my Papa had held me close and recalled the whole story.

The girl had jittered forward, the mangled mess of red drink, guts and hair dangling down the back of her spinal cord, knife twisted ajar clearly in her back. One had held firm on the grip, leading faster and faster to the man above her. A demonic wide spread smile lead apon his curls and his face. "Look what you have done, Jonny-"