Akeldama | lrh

eighteen - crimson

When our actions do not, our fears do make us traitors.

-William Shakespeare

•••

Xavier is dead.

My head throbs painfully in slow, rhythmic pulses, my throat burning.

Xavier is dead.

I'm floating in and out of consciousness, unable to move or open my eyes. I can hear screaming, the sounds of metal on metal, blood splattering, but it's like a million miles away.

Xavier is dead.

Somewhere in my sludgy, tangled thoughts I recognize Ivy's voice. She's growling words you wouldn't even find in a porn magazine, her tone full of pain and tears. A loud smack ensues. A slap.

Everyone I love is dead.

My eyes snap open.

At first all I can see is red, blurred and hazy. Then everything slowly comes into focus and I realize I'm laying on the floor.

The bottom of the hovercraft is red metal, hard and unforgiving. I try to move my arms to help push myself up, only to find that they are tied tightly behind my back with nylon. My legs are too, but after a lot of struggling and sharp pains I am able to pull myself onto my butt, my back against the wall.

It takes a little bit for my vision to clear, and I let out a sharp breath at the sights in front of me.

We are in a small hexagonal shaped cavity, presumably the bottom of the hovercraft. Ashton, Jess, Michael and Ivy all sit in front of me, all tied up. Michael is slumped against the back wall, the entire right side of his face purple and swollen. If it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of his chest, I would think he was dead. Ashton is passed out on the floor, Jess is crying, and Ivy is struggling hard against her restraints (which are titanium, I realize) spitting at the guard watching us all.

She's obviously been beaten up. Her left eye is swollen and dark, blood running through the flame tattoo and down her shoulder from a cut just below her ear. Her wrists are blistered and swollen around the cuffs holding them together. Tears form little tracks through the new mixture of blood and grime on her face, tears undoubtedly coming from anger and grief. My heart aches.

"I'll rip your fucking heart out and feed it to you, you bastard." Ivy snarls at the guard, fighting hard against her cuffs. I recognize him instantly as the one who killed Zay.

Zay.

Xavier.

Dead.

Gone.

My chest burns, and the tears form of their own accord. Suddenly, I have the urge to hurl obscenities at the man too.

"I'd like to see you try." The man chuckles, his arms crossed over his chest. "But I can see you're a little tied up at the moment, so if you want to wait that is totally fine."

Ivy's eyes narrow dangerously. If I were the object of that gaze, I would be terrified. Something tells me that getting on Ivy's bad side is the worst thing a person could possibly do.