Morph [EDITING] || Wattys 2017 Winner

~FORTY THREE~

~amelie~

There's a gun in my hand, and I don't know where it came from.

The fog in my mind clears as I stare down at the ground, at the two bodies beneath my feet. Matthew, and the girl. My uncle looks uninjured, but there's a messy hole in the centre of the girl's forehead that trickles scarlet blood. The colour fills my vision as my gaze returns to the cold metal I'm holding, shouts and gunfire echoing all around me.

I shot her.

She's beautiful, lying there, blonde hair fanned out behind her, bright eyes open and unseeing, no longer black. I can't stop looking at the hole in her head, and the gun in my hand. It's shiny and silver, and too pretty to be so deadly. But it is, and the proof is lying sprawled in front of me.

"Amelie."
I don't move.
"Amelie, look at me."
Hands touch my shoulders, and then someone is in front of me, talking to me. He's not unconscious anymore.
"Amelie, this wasn't your fault. Do you understand? Do you understand me?"
I raise my eyes to stare at him. "I shot her." My voice is a whisper.
"It wasn't your fault. I promise you -"

Suddenly, his eyes flick to something behind me, and he curses. "We need to get out of here. Okay?"
I nod numbly, staring at the body again. The body of the girl I killed.

He grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet and I follow, stumbling along on numb legs. Slowly, my surroundings come back to me - people shouting around me, bright flashes of energy clouding my vision, Matthew's warm hand in mine. The trees around me disappear suddenly as we run through the wall, back into the base, and then we're breaking through the lines of our defence, and I recognise Thomas somewhere there, but we don't stop until suddenly nobody is around me apart from my uncle, and he's gripping my shoulders and talking to me.

"Amelie, are you alright? Are you hurt?" he asks, frantically checking me for injuries.
"No," I manage, and then he looks me in the eye and pauses as I say, "I killed her."
"I know," he says softly, and he wraps his arms around me for a few seconds. He breaks off the hug, and stares at me intently. "It wasn't your fault, though, alright?"
I whisper, "But I did it."
"You did it to save me," he replies. "It wasn't your fault. You did what you were forced to do." I nod uncertainly, and he lays a hand on my shoulder. "Your... your father has been feeling a lot of the same emotions as you for sixteen years. He's been through the same, Amelie, and he's still going. Still trying to help, no matter how..." he hesitates, "...misguided his actions might have been in the past. But you're stronger than him, okay? You can deal with it too, and remember that I am so proud of you for beating her. For not letting her force you into killing me. Okay?"
I nod again, this time with more conviction, and he smiles. I'm still half in shock, weighed down by a feeling of leaden heaviness, so my own expression turns into a crooked, regretful half-smile. But it's a smile all the same, and through the mess of conflicting emotions I know I have to keep fighting.

Blue light fizzles from somewhere behind my uncle, and a shadowy figure appears. And then there is a gunshot, and Matthew yells out.

For one heart-stopping moment I think he's been shot, but then he twists away from me and shouts, "Take cover!" I dive out of the way as he roars and the wall behind me disintegrates, the dark dust flying forwards to meet the figure. At the last moment it swings something up, like a shield, blocking the dust, and dodges swiftly. I watch in horror as most of the particles miss it, and it darts into the lighter part of the corridor to attack my uncle.

The figure is a slim, agile-looking man, with dark hair and startlingly grey eyes. Muscles ripple up his arm as he grabs a gun from nowhere, firing at my uncle, and he cries out, forming a dust shield in front of him just in time. But the intruder is already firing again, and this time Matthew's shield falls apart on impact. He takes another shot and my uncle drives out of the way, landing sideways on the ground, flinging a hand towards him, and then the gun in his hand disintegrates and he curses. I stand, paralysed with shock, with the strange leaden feeling still weighing me down, as Matthew reaches to control the gun's ashes, and I realise he's capitalising on the intruder's surprise and sudden disorganisation.

And nothing happens.

A look of panic crosses Matthew's face as he flings his hand out again, and again the dust just stays on the ground. I'm not the only one that notices his expression, though, and I watch, unable to help, as the enemy realises he's defenceless.
"Stay back!" Matthew shouts, scrambling to his feet, desperately attempting to manipulate the dust again, but his opponent just reaches for something and flicks it out, brandishing a deadly-looking serrated knife. My eyes widen.
The intruder smirks at him. "I think I'll use this to kill you. It's more personal... more deserving, for someone who almost managed to actually reach me."

His voice triggers a memory, and I flash back to sitting in the vents, hearing Roman and my mother talking, watching one shoot the other, wondering which one was dead. And now, now that I've heard that voice, Roman's voice, it means -

No.

The lead weight lifts from my limbs and I expel all thoughts of death from my mind, of my sister, of Ryan, of my mother, of the girl I just killed, and I roar and launch myself forward to meet the intruder just as he brings the knife down. There's a loud noise, like metal on metal, as it makes contact with my arm, and a burning feeling races through my body, but I ignore it and throw a punch straight at Roman's face, a fast, vicious hook, and he dodges and swears again, dropping the knife, and backs away. But I follow, and then my fist is swinging again, and just as it's about to make contact Roman taps something on his wrist, and then blue light flashes and he's gone.

The only sound is Matthew's heavy breathing as I stare at the space where Roman was, and I realise that he's somehow teleported away.

"Ha..." Matthew says humourlessly, panting, "I guess... my powers aren't what they used to be."

The adrenaline in my veins is still flowing, and my heart beats quickly as I frown, knowing something was... wrong about that encounter.

I don't work out what it is until Matthew says, "Are you... okay?" There's a look of intense confusion and concern on his face. "Did he cut you?"
"Uh... no," I say, my frown deepening.
"But he did make contact, though, right? Between you and that knife?"
"Yes," I answer. "But... I don't think it hurt me."
Matthew's brow creases. "How? Why not?"

I check the spot where the knife hit me, and I stare. My skin looks strange, and I'm reminded of just before I gave my 'inspiring' speech to everyone. When I noticed it was odd then, too. I move into the light, and gasp. My skin doesn't look like skin anymore, but is shining silver, a steely and metallic colour, and as I tap it with my other - metallic - hand it makes a small 'clink' noise.

"Did you... have you just... have you turned into... metal?" asks Matthew, incredulous and astonished.
"I... don't know," I answer, still staring at my arm. I look over at him. "But we need to get back out there."

So I grab his hand and pull him up, and then we're both running, back past the Defenders, back into the outside world, back into the battle.