Archaic ||Peterick||

Hail Satan

Pete followed William and Ray through the eerily quiet halls. The sirens had been silenced and the lights had stopped flashing but were still on, painting the corridors in red. The lights were the only thing signalling any kind of danger in the empty corridors.

Pete vaguely wondered where everyone was. They must've evacuated but, wasn't this what they had trained for?

Pete followed the boys down to the basement and shuddered. He recognised this room and with closer inspection he managed to pinpoint it in his mind. Ryan Ross has lost his humanity in this exact room, the bloodstains remained to prove it.

It was like another world for Pete, to stand where Patrick once stood. It was like reliving Patrick's memories but this time as Patrick himself.

Ray shoved an empty water container and a bucket into his hands, bringing him back to his own scene. "Am I gonna fight them off with these?" Pete asked incredulously, wondering if they had some hidden power like Patrick's pen.

Ray rolled his eyes. "No, idiot. We're going to collect holy water from around the school." He threw some containers at William, finally grabbing his own.

Pete followed them back up the cement staircase and into the labyrinth of corridors. "Where is everyone?" Pete wondered aloud. He watched as Ray abandoned them down a dark corridor.

William slapped a hand over Petes mouth and pulled him against a dark corner, in between two rows of lockers. Petes eyes widened as he heard the footsteps that sounded all too similar to Patrick's heavy boots.

Pete watched in unadulterated fear as Patrick passed them. His lips were snarled and he was growling. His eyes were fully yellow, his clothes dirty. He looked around himself and froze. William quickly held his breath.

Pete felt a horrible choking sensation in his throat. He gagged against Williams hand and got a warning look in return.

Patrick eventually gave up and continued down the hall. Pete waited until he was a safe distance away to quickly threw up the flower in his mouth. Williams eyes widened comically. "Oh god..." he mumbled.

Pete gave him an awkward look and wiped his mouth. "Let's just go," He croaked out.

William pulled him down the hallway. He ducked into a dark classroom that resembled a church and ran to the basin in it. "Fill up as much as you can."

Pete nodded and dutifully dunked the bottle in the water. He held it down with the top of his finger and cursed. "Bilvy? A little help?"

William sighed and took it back out when it was full. "We'll get some from my locker next, that way you won't have to touch it."

William dumped half of his bottles into Petes bucket, making sure none of it splashed on him. William stuck his head out the door and glanced around. He gestured Pete out and slunk towards the hoards of brightly painted lockers. Each one seemed to resemble a different power. One particular locker caught Petes eye. It was dark and grim. The lockers had names, not numbers. On it was a faint 'P. Stumph'.  Words were scratched onto it, horrible mean words.

William opened one labelled 'W. Beckett' quickly and grabbed a bunch of vials and flasks. "Cafeteria. Then back to the basement." He whispered to Pete.

Pete remembered the cafeteria, they'd passed it on the way to the field. He lead the way this time, checking around corners and ducking into the shadowed places.

The pressed his ear to the cafeteria doors and quietly cursed. "There's someone in there." He mouthed to William.

The younger yet taller boy lead him away and to a smaller door. "Silent." He hissed and opened the door to let Pete in. Pete crawled in. He glanced around, noting he was in the kitchen. He peeked out through the window in the conjoining door. His breath hitched, seeing Ashlee.

William gently pulled him away and ran to the taps. He put Petes bucket under one and started filling it up. He then did the same with his own. Pete looked out the window again and bit his lip. "Bilvy? She's gone."

William cursed. "Watch out. If she sees you or comes near you, whatever you do, don't scream." He pleaded. He slowly opened the door and glanced around. "Cmon."

Pete followed him down the corridors, walking slower than William. He watched the water slosh around in the bucket and moved his foot when some spilled out. He could head Ashlees high heels clipping around quite near to them.

He followed William back down the stained stairs and back into the basement. Ray was tapping his foot loudly, surrounded by barrels of holy water. "I thought you were never coming back."

"See that?" Ray pointed to the ridiculously large water keg. "That's the sprinkler system. It's almost empty from the fake fires some students set off. We gotta dump all the water in." He explained quickly.

Pete and William nodded dutifully, dumping everything they had inside. Pete handed the two the containers, too scared of the splashing to go anywhere near it.

Ray stopped when the keg was filled to the brim. He rustled around in his bag for a match box. "Here goes nothing." He clambered up the stairs loudly, not that hiding would matter any more. William quickly disabled the sprinklers in the basement as Ray lit a match under the fire alarm.

Pete watched Ray from the open door. He began to panic when the sprinklers came on. It would hurt Patrick. Patrick couldn't die, Pete wouldn't let him.

Before either of the boys had the chance to stop him, Pete was darting out of the room and sprinting around the school. Tears fell out of Pete's whiskey eyes as his skin began to burn off. He screamed but didn't stop running.

His teenage facade fell and he was left to bare his emotions. Pete located the sound of Patrick's yells quickly and ran towards him at high speed. He froze when he saw him. He watched Patrick try to keep himself in control.

Pete didn't know what he'd hoped to accomplish, he couldn't do anything but watch. Patrick and Pete held eye contact as they both cried. The holy water hadn't reached the main hall yet.

The yellow melted out of Patrick's eyes and brown and blue locked together. Pete watched as Patrick tried to keep control. He felt helpless. Nothing he did or say would matter now.

He fell to is knees, watching as Patrick screamed.