Fear Factory / reddie circus au

Fifteen - Loss

(Warning: brief mention of dead animals- if you don't like that stuff, skip to where the '*' is to avoid it (it isn't too graphic though))

Richie sprinted through the forest, shrubs and brambles clawing at his legs as he bounded over fallen branches.

His breathing was shallow and quick as he moved clumsily through the darkness, trying his best to retrace the way in which he had entered the woodland several hours ago.

As his lungs began to burn and his legs ache he could see the wiry iron fence ahead of him. He picked up the pace, his lanky legs carrying him to the perimeter of the circus grounds.

He clambered quickly under the gap in the wire, the jagged metal catching on his shirt and snagging at his hair. But he pushed onwards. Panic coursing through him like electricity.

"Eddie!" Richie wheezed, staggering into the courtyard.

Please be here, please be here Richie thought, anxiety erupting in his chest.

Richie's thoughts were accelerating inside his head. He desperately wanted them to slow so he could breathe, but they wouldn't. His heart was hammering inside his chest like it belonged to a rabbit running from a predator. The courtyard around him melted away and span as Richie fell to the floor, trying to make everything slow and something his brain and body could cope with. He felt so sick.

"Richie?" A concerned voice murmured, like a streak of blue sky in a storm cloud.

Richie turned his head, his panicked eyes meeting Stan.
Stan looked at Richie with a concerned expression, reaching out and helping Richie clamber to his feet.

"Richie what's-?" Stan began, but he was interrupted by Richie,

"Eddie's gone... he's gone, and Mike... and Ben and Beverly, they're-,"

Stanley looked at him with a nervous expression, taking Richie's arm and leading them to their trailer.

"They're using us," Richie managed to say between strangled gulps for air, "They're trying to get in our heads, mess with us, fucking scare us!"

Stanley didn't say anything he just dragged Richie up onto the decking and unlocked the door.

"We are going to sort this out," Stan said firmly, pulling Richie inside, "We just need to-,"

Stanley froze. His eyes meeting the massacre that lay before him. He dropped Richie's arm, a hand reaching up to cover his mouth.

Stan let out a heart wrenching sob.

Richie looked past Stan at the scene that had unfolded, his eyes widening and his stomach churned with nausea.

Lying on the ground, claws in the air, were Stanley's birds. The birds were as cold as the ground they lay on, feathers matted with a sticky crimson. Despite their lack of warmth they had died recently, none of them covered with flies and their eyes still moist and unsunken.

*

"What the fuck," Richie gasped, turning to look at Stan.

The boy had tears forming in his eyes and his whole body trembled. Richie felt sick as he looked at the misery all around him, from the tiny lifeless bodies to the heartbroken boy beside him.

"Stanley," Richie started, but he didn't know what to say, he knew how much Stanley loved his birds and clearly someone else had known too, "Try and be strong, this is what they want... they're messing with us,"

Stanley turned around to look at him, his face red with frustration.

"Richie could you be anymore insensitive?" Stan sobbed angrily, "Just because your boyfriend ran away doesn't mean you can be an asshole,"