He Left Me - KotLC fic (after Unlocked)

Chapter 20

Keefe's POV

I jogged down the steps into the subway, hoping my train hadn't left yet. I had become more and more used to the strange, terrifying machines, and used them daily to get to my job at the art gallery. Today I had stayed late to finish a drawing for a customer and had run the entire way trying to make it on time. I had almost saved enough to afford the down payment of a small studio apartment near Tracie's, and my current commissions were extremely time-consuming.

I rounded the corner to find the last car going home pulling into the tunnels.

Swearing under my breath, I found a bench along the walls to sit and wait for the next one. It would be at least twenty minutes. I unzipped my bag and pulled out my sketchbook.

After about a month of working every available minute, I finally broke down and bought a new pad. My old ones were completely filled, and I had been drawing on scraps for days. Human sketchpads were different paper than Elvin ones, and the smooth pages were easier to draw on.

The next free page was somewhere in the middle, and I pulled out my favorite drawing pencil. The station was mostly empty, only a few people with headphones on lingering around.

I began sketching a girl with a large afro and headphones and an Asian boy with a suit on. They were sitting quite close across the tracks from me, looking at something on the boy's phone.

"Excuse me," someone said from my right. An oddly attractive man was struggling to balance a tower of boxes, and the top one was sliding off. He looked almost familiar. "Do you mind giving me a hand?"

"Oh, sure." I stuffed my sketchbook in my bag, looping the straps on as I stood to help. I grabbed the top box and waited for the man to readjust before setting it back on the stack.

"Thank you so much, Keefe." The man smiled, and I was unnerved by the slightly cruel look in his eyes.

"No pro—" I froze. I hadn't given the man my name. I took a shaky step backwards as he began to grin. That's why he looked familiar; I saw him once when I was with the Neverseen. I spun, preparing to flee, and found two black-cloaked figures waiting for me. One of them tossed an obscurer to the man I had helped, and then they sprayed an awful mist into my face. The sickly-sweet smell invaded my senses, and they caught me as my mind was overcome by strange, foggy softness.

I woke slowly, coming to consciousness with a blinding headache. I gasped at the pain and inhaled slowly. After a few more deep breaths, it felt less like someone was stabbing my head and more like I had been whacked with a sledgehammer.

I cracked an eye open, grateful when I found there to be dim lighting. Faint dusky light filtered through a narrow window high on the wall. I watched the dust particles float in the air for a moment before prying my other eye open.

The ceiling was a dingy gray, and the walls were the same color. The Neverseen could really use an interior designer. The air was slightly musty and cool, like I was underground.

I sat up, stretching from where I had been dumped on the floor. I was almost insulted. Thankfully, my hair didn't feel too awful. My backpack was on the floor near me. I looked around the small room, freezing when I saw the body against the wall opposite the door.

"No," I whispered, stumbling over to it and dropping to my knees.

Foster, my beautiful Sophie, was lying supine on the cold concrete. She was in a long red dress, her hair in a complicated updo. Gold glitter and black liner coated her closed eyes, and her wrists had faint abrasions, like she had been bound. A long cut was sliced into her shoulder, red around the edges like it was infected.

I gently cradled her face with one hand while I checked for a pulse with the other, but at the feel of her cold skin, I knew I wouldn't find anything.

I bowed my head over the girl I loved so much. "Sophie. Sophie, come back. Please." I begged in a whisper as tears dripped off my cheeks. "Don't leave me."

I held her close, shaking as the sobs wracked my body. "I'm so sorry, Sophie. I tried to protect you."

The tears streamed down my face, soaking my t-shirt.

Something crinkled, and I stilled, holding my breath. Gently, I patted the side of her dress, finding a subtle pocket. I pulled out two photographs.

In one, Dex, Biana, Fitz, Sophie, and Wylie lined up against one of the glass walls of Havenfield. Everyone was looking at Sophie with confused expressions as she grinned at the camera. They were all dressed up, Sophie in the outfit she wore now, albeit less rumpled. The boys towered over her. Biana was only a few inches shorter than them due to a pair of silver heels, but Sophie had obviously opted for flats, and the top of her head barely reached Wylie's chin.

She was breathtaking. She looked so happy without me.

In the second photo, Dex held Biana in the air, and Fitz and Wylie had lifted Sophie onto their shoulders. Sophie had her tongue out, obviously laughing with her friends. They all were making similar faces, even serious Wylie going cross-eyed.

My heart ached at the sight of them. Grady said Sophie was growing cold and emotionless, but the Sophie in these photos couldn't be happier.

I looked back down at the girl in my arms. Her elegant dress had been wrinkled, but still flowed around her figure in a flattering way. Her mascara had been smudged under her eyes, and a few strands of her hair had been pulled loose. The curls that framed her face in the photos were limp and messy.

She was still the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

And she was dead because of me.