𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.
❝ UM... ALLISON
YOUR BROTHER
ALMOST KILLED
ME WITH A KNIFE. ❞
in which allison's best friend
visits her after finding out her
father dies and manages to catch
the attention of number two.
(chapter twenty-three.) zoya popova ❝ OLD RUSSIAN BROAD, SHORT, WITH A LIMP. ❞
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☂
PARIS WAS WALKING ALONGSIDE THE HARGREEVES WITH LUTHER CARRYING A very drunk Five and Diego, who was just staring ahead, wondering where the hell Poet was. The 14-year-old boy was feeling anxious, each step they took making him more anxious. His body was vibrating, aching to find where his aunt was at. But Diego didn't let him.
"I need you to be safe," Diego had told him sternly. "Your aunt will have my head if she knew I let you chase after her. Do you want a pissed off Poet?"
It was gonna be a day that his aunt has been missing and Paris couldn't help but feel hopeless. And now here he was after finding a drunk Five in the library where multiple people had complimented him based on his hair and eyes, walking alongside the two men that were surrounded with nothing but a tense, awkward silence.
"If you vomit on me... " Paris turned to look at Luther who was staring at the boy in his hands. But Paris was paying attention to the mannequin held tightly by the boy.
"You know what's funny?" Five questioned, looking up at the sky. Paris looked up at Diego, the man looking down at him. They both shook their heads, letting out sighs. "Aah! I'm going through puberty. Huh. Twice. And I-I drank that whole bottle, didn't I? That's what you do when the world you love goes bye-bye. Poof, it's gone. What are you guys talkin' about?"
"Two masked intruders attacked the Academy last night," Luther answered.
"They came looking for you," Diego spoke, not daring to look over his shoulder as he and the younger Capulet walked ahead. "So, I need you to focus. What do they want?"
"Hazel and Cha Cha," Five breathed out. Diego turned around immediately at the boy's words.
"Who?"
"You know I hate code names," Luther commented and before said man could register what was going on, he felt a gush of wind and watched as the nephew of the strange girl that was friend's with Allison eating ice cream and a bag of donuts in one hand for the guys.
"Ah, the best of the best," Five mumbled, still slightly drunk. "Except for me, of course."
"The best of what?" Luther asked. Paris sighed in an annoyed manner when he heard that the boy didn't answer the question and for once in his life, he was about to disobey someone if this was how it was going to be when his aunt was somewhere out there.
"You know, Dolores always said she hated when I drink," Five only answered, clearly off topic. You should've made me a Shirley—"
"Hey!" Diego yelled over his shoulder, just as annoyed as the brunette boy next to him. Paris watched as Diego fully turned around to look at the boy in Luther's arms and he looked around, a sort of paranoia coursing through him.
"Hm? Yeah?"
"I need you to focus," Diego looked at the boy with such a stern look it made the Capulet take a step back. "What do this Hazel and Cha Cha want?" Five only smiled in response, not uttering a word. "We just want to protect you. And hopefully find Poet."
"Protect me," Five repeated. "I don't need your protection, Diego. Do you have any idea how many people I've killed? No. I'm the Four frickin' Horsemen. The apocalypse is coming."
And just like that, Paris lost his appetite when Five faced the other way and threw up. Diego looked away, before he looked at Paris and noticed him shaking slightly. He shook his head and Paris sighed, letting out an "I know" when he noticed it.
☂
Poet was getting irritated. She was losing blood and she had a pounding headache. She was annoyed at the woman that only she and Klaus could see. The woman's voice was loud and it was like a drill to Poet's ears. She was staring at the two people that were cowering and Ben stared at the Capulet and his brother when he saw their tense expression.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Poet panted slightly when she noticed the woman's face. She made a face of disgust and she heard Klaus say something similar to her words, making the same face she has.
"Look at her," Ben said, getting something that the two didn't. "At how she's looking at them. She's one of their victims. We can use this." The two did as instructed and as much as it disgusted them, they faced the woman who was still staring at the people. "Go on. You haven't been this sober since you were a teenager, since you decided to keep the ghosts at bay. This is your chance, Klaus. To control them, learn their secrets. And this is your chance Poet to test your abilities to see dead people. Try to talk to her."
Poet heard Klaus let out a shaky breath. "Hi-Hi!"
"Hi..." Poet trailed off, glancing at Klaus. He nodded his head slowly at her, concerned over the girl. Any moment now she was going to die. Any moment now her breath was gonna stop. Any moment now her last words were going to be said. It's almost close. "Do I talk to her in Russian?" Klaus and Ben nodded. "Как тебя зовут?"
"Zoya Popova," the woman answered, looking at the two people. Poet gulped and looked at Klaus, who was staring at the woman already.
"Oh!" He let out, a small smile on his lips. Poet let out short breaths, each breath slowing down and becoming more softer each second. She was close. "That's a lovely name."
"Are you sure I should talk to her in Russian? It seems to me that she already knows what you're saying," Poet asked. Klaus shrugged and Poet turned turned to look at the woman. "Can you tell us what happened?" Poet questioned in a soft tone, not wanting to anger or trigger the woman. She didn't want to ruin anything. She didn't want to. She wasn't questioning anything of this. She didn't. But she was rather questioning what would happen if she died. What would Paris do if she died? Would he be happy? Would he be sad that his father's twin sister died? Would he blame himself? Poet couldn't bear to think that.
"What happened is if you don't shut up," Poet rolled her eyes when she heard the other woman's voice, "I'mma cut your tongue out with a grapefruit spoon."
A few seconds of silence passed before Klaus decided to say the woman's name. "Zoya Popova."
The two gunned people looked at each other now.
"What did he say?"
"Zoya Popova."
"Old Russian broad," Poet started to describe, "short, with a limp."
Klaus chuckled. "Oh, she's really pissed at you guys." He let out a whistle, making Poet chuckled a bit at his actions.
