GONE One-Shots

The Corpse

They'd found him by his arm, the lengthy fleshy tendril writhing like a snake with its head cut off. Still, Drake was very much alive, in his own way. Despite the nails poking out between his ribs, the shard of glass in his throat hanging by an ugly flap of skin, even the rebar piercing his torso, pinning him under the collapsed building. He was alive. Impossibly, horribly so.

Sam watched grimly as Astrid barked orders to the still standing kids. After Zils fire ravaged half of their town, most were in the care of Lana. Now, the shambles of the town council would need to settle the score of unsolved problems.

"Go find ropes, chains, locks, anything we can use to restrain him." When Astrid spoke, people listened. Dekka nodded, silent as ever, before going to pick through the rubble of the hardware store. Taylor was of course already gone, teleporting to her house, knowing there was a rusty bike lock in the garage.

Sam envied Astrid, when people looked to her, she had answers. When she decided something, it sounded right. Even when she failed, she did it with her dignity intact. Sam wished he could only be the same.

"I said I would kill him. Burn him to nothing." Sam willed the images away, a snake-like arm silhouetted by the blue glow of the nuclear reactor pool, lashing out at him. How drakes laughter had echoed with the alarms, ringing in Sams ears with his own screams.

"Well," Astrid said solemnly. "what's stopping you." For once, she could let Sam carry out his own plans with his digression. Especially with the thing lying before them. If anyone deserved to end Drakes existence it was his victim, Sam.

"Britney." Sams lips were set in a hard line. There could only be one possibility for Drake rising from the dead, and it was Britney's power of immortality. Somehow, the twos existence was merged. Killing one would kill the other, and wouldn't killing Britney, an innocent girl, be murder?

Drake sneered, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, the glass in his neck preventing him from saying the word on his lips. 'Coward.'

Edilio held chains and ropes in his arms, dropping them at the supposedly dead boys kicking feet. He grasped Sams shoulder, out of everyone, Edilio had proven himself to be a true friend. "You don't need to be here, go home, Amado."

Sam let himself smile softly. "I appreciate it, but I need to do this." He would do it for the old Sam, who died in that abandoned power plant. Alone apart from the company of Drake, a tentacle armed sadist, with whom there'd been unfinished business.

They'd restrained him with chains, Taylors' bike lock held his arms to his sides nicely, as they dragged his squirming body from the rubble. Drake almost didn't hate them so much, since he'd been stuck. Almost.

Edilio especially infuriated him, how could someone be so disgustingly humble? It felt like he was rubbing Drakes horrible existence in his face. Not like he minded his new life, free of pain. The rub was he could no longer pretend to be human.

The wetback, as Drake had affectionately termed him, brought him food, even a blanket. He didn't need the food, would never need it again. These gestures taunted him, as if mocking how trapped and miserable he felt in this basement, while others pretended not to live like animals.

He noticed how well hidden edilios inner evil was and scoffed at it. It was pathetic, to pretend to be anything other than an animal. Edilio was a good liar, even as he gently plucked nails and broken glass but he could tell his captor took a sick satisfaction in keeping him trapped. Call him what you would, Drake hid nothing of himself. He was honest, unashamed, evil.

"Don't be so gentle, I'm not going to break! Christ!" He writhed in his binds, furious, he could remove these foreign objects himself, with his teeth if need be. His flailing shifted the ridged rebar rod, which closely pressed to his spine. his legs lent themselves only to an odd sensation of numbness now, when he tried to kick edilio off.