Kotlc Oneshots!

Car crash

Again, based on one of my theories for Unraveled.

(Keefe pov)

Keefe and his friend were driving to the store. Keefe hadn't been in a car very often, and it freaked him out.

Why would humans put their lives in the hands of other people in metal boxes on wheels going sixty miles per hour? Humans seemed way too comfortable with something that could easily kill them.

Milo wasn't aware that Keefe was an elf. So that meant Keefe had to keep his freak out to himself. Milo, unfortunately, just thought his driving was bad. He wasn't horrible. Keefe just didn't trust the other people beside them.

He relaxed when the car came to a stop at a red light. Eventually, the light turned to green, and their car started to slowly pull out.

Keefe relaxed into his seat. But both him and Milo screamed a moment later. A car came barreling out from the other lane. It slammed straight into the right side of the car.

The airbags went off. Pain shot through his body he was squished between the car. Milo beside him, let out a blood curdling screech.

Keefe's head rammed into the window. A sickening crack could be heard. Throbbing bloomed throughout his skull.

The momentum finally came to a stop. He fumbled for the car door. After struggling for a moment, he managed to get it open. He spilled out onto the concrete.

Sirens got closer and closer. But Keefe's head was getting hazier and hazier. It felt like he was somewhere else. And suddenly... he was.

He was standing by the British Library. He was at a street corner, his mom beside him. On the other side of the street, Ethan and Eleanor Wright.

His mother crouched down to his level. "Ok, Keefe. We're going to practice your telekinesis. When I say go, you're going to use it to pull that little girl closer to us."

Little Keefe nodded. He felt his past self's excitement of being able to go out in the Forbidden Cities was jittery. His present self felt nothing but bad omen. He could do nothing but sit and watch.

As soon as a big double-decker bus came by, his mom told him to pull. Little him followed orders while present him was screaming not to do it.

It was all in vain.

Eleanor was tugged out into the road. Ethan chased after his daughter. He grabbed hold of her hand and-

Screaming. Blood. Crying. Ethan had his head cracked open on the pavement, his eyes staring into the abyss. Eleanor had gotten run over by the wheel. She was so eerily still. It reminded him of the awful scenes he had seen of small creatures on the side of the road. It made him feel sick.

Little Keefe stared in horror at what he had done. Present him did too. Because... it was his fault, after all. He had killed them.

Little him screamed at the top of his lungs. His mother turned to hold him close to her as he cried at the horrific scene before him.

"It's going to be alright," she assured him. "The washers will be here soon."

The memory hazed back out, being thrown back into the present. He trembled at the uncovered memory. His throat was closing off.

He only realized he was laying in a sticky red substance when a paramedic rushed over to him.

He couldn't make himself speak when asked if he was ok. He just continued to shake and cry.

He hurt. His head felt like exploding. No doubt was he scraped and bruised and battered. But the worst part was the emotional storm going on in his brain.

My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault, was all that repeated in his head.

It had been his fault. He pulled Elenor into the road, and Ethan went after her. He let out a scream, putting his head in between his knees.

The paramedic waved others over. Keefe fought against them when they tried to help him, too disoriented from the trigger.

After plenty of struggles, they managed to get him trapped down to the gurney. He thrashed against the person who was trying to clean off his head wound. One of the others filled a syringe. He tried to squirm, but it was injected into his arm.

It made him start feeling dizzy and lethargic. The world started spinning, and he surrendered to the inky black pull of sleep.

When he awoke, he was somewhere unfamiliar. From the people walking around in scubs and the smell of anti-septic, he deciphered that he was in a human hospital.

His limbs ached. He reached up to his head and found stitches where he had hit it. If he was there, then.... where was Milo?

He sat up. One of the signs read, 'Trauma Unit'. He tried to get out of bed, but something kept him tethered. He glanced down where he felt a tug on his arm. Something was taped down inside his arm. He ripped it off

He hissed in pain immediately after, and a whole bunch of machines around him started beeping. The spot on his arm was bleeding.

Nurses came rushing into the rooms. They crowded around him with hands held out like he was a frightened animal.

"Where's Milo?" he asked before they could restrain him. "Milo. My friend that was also in the accident. Where is he?"

Keefe stood waiting for an awnser. After a couple of seconds, one of the nurses finally spoke up, causing his entire world to come crashing down

"Oh, honey." She gave him soft, sad eyes. "He was pronounced dead on scene."