The Runaways

Heaven Can't Help you now

This is the last chapter.... I'm crying.

• Nick •

Of course I attempt to open the door. Of course it's locked. It doesn't faze me, I just bang on it to hopefully rise attention from the inside. Michael isn't a coward, he'll open the door and give me a fair fight. I haven't brought a gun, I had forgotten it in my rage driven state.

I hear voices from the inside, multiple feet rustling. A man opens the door wide, smirking once his eyes land on me. Tall built, 6'5 at the least. Roughly 230 pounds.

He opens his mouth, "he's here!-" Before he can get another word out, I punch him directly in his jaw.

It hurts me so badly when our bones collide that I have to cradle my fingers for a moment. The man, however, falls to the ground, unconscious. I step over his body and enter the house. No one seems to be in the front rooms and that's when I know that he's planning something. Whatever it is, I don't have time to care or plan a surprise attack against his schemes. I don't know what scenario I'll be running into, I just know the task I have to execute.

"Michael?" I yell out, continuing through the house, looking left and right for threats. "You're fucking dead!"

I hear mumbled voices coming from the back of the stench filled home, so forgetting all the other rooms, I march strait towards the noises. When I open the back door, I nearly fall backwards. Erin stands in front of Mike with her arms crossed defiantly across her chest, but is listening intently to his words. She looks stubborn and tough like always, but at the same time like a child. Listening carefully to her superior as if he knows something she doesn't. Michael has insincere pity covering his face. At least six body guards line the room but I ignore them. They try to come restrain me but I am already across the room with Mike's neck between my tightening fingers. A girly shriek and a few manly yells come as fuzzy, muffled words to me. The words don't penetrate the wall I've built up that's blocking anything not relating to the man in my hands taking his last breath.

I pull back my fist before hurdling it towards his smiling face as hard as I can. His nose breaks and I punch him again. He spits blood and a tooth from his mouth before smiling again, antagonizing me. I go to punch the bastard again, but my feet are no longer touching the floor.

"Let go!" I swing my head until it hits the guard to my left, once he lets go, I swing my free arm around and hit the man to the right. It doesn't faze either of them long, but it gives me enough time to pull a knife from one of their pockets.

I push the knife into the first one's stomach before yanking it down, making sure he won't recover. The second man grabs me around my shoulders, giving me enough room to stab him in the thigh. Once he keels over in pain, I knock him to the ground with a punch. More guards are on me faster than I can respond. I slice one's arm, kick the other's stomach, but that's all I can get in before I'm restrain by four men who are each easily twice the size of me.

No, I haven't done enough damage yet.

"Do you see, Erin? Now you've seen it for yourself." Michael says as she helps him to his feet.

I stare, completely perplexed by her audacity and idiocy to actually come to the man you has done nothing but make her life hell, for help. Help to be safe from me. If only she knew what a terrible mistake she's making.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I scream. "He tried to kill the both of us, multiple times! You're a traitor! And the funny thing is, you left your allies for your damn enemy! What happened to the smart Erin I knew? The one who never trusted-"

"Stop." She speaks in a low tone, her eyes meeting mine for the first time in three days. My breath catches for a moment. She looks like the spitting image of how she looked in my dream. Her eyes are so distant, like she doesn't know who I am. She doesn't recognize my soul but knows my face. It's the worst feeling in the world to see someone who once knew you better than you knew yourself, lose recognition. It makes me question how well I know myself now, but I know I haven't done anything wrong. At least, not much.