The Last Order | Requiem 2

Before, Ella Lives, and Here's the thing

"You've impressed me." Ella said. "That's a rare occurrence. I'll remember you long after you're dead."

"You made a mistake." Hatcher replied.

"Oh, please tell me how I'm the one that made the mistake. This will be fucking delicious."

"I've been waiting to put a bullet in Ella Croft for a while now."

Hatcher fired and the bullet slapped Ella's shoulder. Ella fired back, but Hatcher dove behind the couch, taking one in the left arm.

Jerico slammed his shoulder into Ella's side, knocking her over the back of the couch and sending her gun sliding across the floor. Jerico jumped for it, but just as he was about to grab it, the gun flew across the room and back into Ella's hand.

"What the fuck was that?" Jerico said.

"Doesn't matter," Ella aimed at Jerico. "You won't live long enough to find out."

She fired, hitting Jerico in the body, but before she could get another in him, Hatcher unloaded her magazine.

All fifteen bullets struck Ella, ripping through her skin, organs, and bones.

* * * *

Ella sat up in the bed, gasping.

"What happened?" Ella said. She tried her best to remember but nothing materialized in her mind.

She tossed the covers off and stood up. Her legs felt like jelly so she stumbled to the door. Along the way she crossed the mirror on the back of the dresser and caught a glimpse of her reflection.

Her skin was milky white, her brunette hair was now black, and her brown eyes were now bright red. She noticed a mark along her collar bone which prompted her to lift her black tank top. Rounds scars covered her stomach and chest.

Broken images appeared in her mind, each one feeling like a knife to her brain.

A struggle—bright flashes—gunshots.

Ella bared down into the top of the dresser with her hands. She moaned as the pictures came and went, and when it was over, she glared at herself in the mirror and wondered just what in the fuck did Pan do to her?

Ella walked down the hall and found and entered the kitchen of a studio apartment. The man standing in the kitchen was six feet tall with perfectly parted hair and wore a pink polo shirt and cargo shorts. Their eyes met as he put a bottle of muscle milk to his lips.

"Where am I?" Ella said.

The man darted away and Ella chased after him, running around the mini bar and through the living room.

"Where am I? Who the fuck are you, and what am I doing here? Answer me, you fucking weirdo!"

"Okay, okay," he held his hands out. "If I talk, you promise not to do whatever it is you do? Do it to other people, but not me."

"Talk!"

"Alright, umm, my name is Geoff. And you're here because Pan said you needed a place to hide out."

"How do you know Pan?"

"We kind of crossed paths a few years ago. I was at a low point in my life, and then he came along offering me everything I ever wanted if I agreed to help him with something. He never asked for a single thing from me, not until he appeared in my apartment with you. Right over there, in front of my entertainment center."

"Where is he right now?"

"I have no idea. He leaves for days at a time. I let him use my apartment as his hideout, you'd think he would try a little harder to communicate."