Never Close Your Eyes

TC 🔒 : C. 39

| Chapter Thirty-Nine |

Her hair that looked to be braided in a decent manner was slowly falling out of it's intricacy, more than likely from the fall she took.

Dark colors of dirt caked her features, but he'd know that cute face anywhere—even if he was blind. For a minute, he could feel his heart skip a beat as if he saw his first love.

Well, in his eyes, he did, to much of his surprise. The hard reminder had set in, though, or could he be wrong? Maybe she wasn't sick. Either way, he'd fix her up real pretty for display, at least.

He found himself getting excited and rushing home with his new collectible doll and subjects.

Two bodies laid on the cool metal slab he stole from a morgue. Another body was set aside in a wooden chair, her head looking like it was hanging on a mere thread.

Silence covered all bodies like a veil, despite two out of three breathing. Murphy's tired eyes stared at the ceiling lights, his memory coming around the corner with his sight following close behind.

His skin was prickled like he was in a snow blizzard with nothing but a trendy sweater—which barely covered his stomach if he lifted his arms and had more small holes in the knitted fabric than a fifth-hand sweater.

Frantic, when he noticed Warren and the others hadn't came and rescued him, he breathed in his surroundings like it was oxygen. If he wasn't with Warren, then he wanted the next best thing to come into sight: (Y/N).

His breathing didn't rationalize until he took in her sleeping form. She was a couple feet from his feet, her body not moving but dressed way different from the last time he had seen her.

'Why can't I move?' He thought back to what was going on with himself before he worried about her odd attire.

When he had tried to sit up and get to her, he noticed the familiar material of restriction down against his skin. An ugly reminder that once again, another villain had him where they wanted him.

For now. Either he'd break himself out and wait for Warren, or said woman would save him from himself. His eyes had glanced to the side before having to do a double take at his right arm's surrounding.

Tyler's dome had been sawed open in a perfect cut, already mercied by their captor. Half his brain had been gauged out, but it didn't look like a crime scene; Murphy could only figure this guy was a scientist of some sorts. It was a wonder he hadn't shared the same fate already.

Unsatisfied with the view, he looked back at the (H/C). He hadn't seen her hair down since they first met; much less combed and shampooed..? He tilted his head at the odd realization.

Was there conditioner in those strands as well? Not a matt could be detected. If anyone were to run their fingers through her hair now, they would want to know her hair routine.

Despite the oddness, it was in a half-and-half ponytail. The strands that were free from the ponytail, were somehow curled. Along with the pieces of hair that were tied neatly.

She looked unfamiliar, but he knew it was the same smart-ass mouthed kid he had adventured away with. The bright blue dress popped her skin tone out, meshing well with white frills.

The theme looked similar to that of Alice and Wonderland, but seemed to have it's own brand. The dress stopped a little pass mid-thighs, but not meeting the thigh-high socks.

Black and white swirls surrounded her calf, shin and knee with black flat shoes with white ribbons horribly glued on.

The prestige white in the socks and a few fabrics in the dress were what really made her whole attire stick out, especially in the apocalypse.