Hatchetfield Stories

Glass

*opens document* "I'm going to write something happy!"
Spoiler alert: that didn't happen

Also, does anyone else find it harder to come up with titles that writing the actual story itself?

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Torture
-Needles
-Blood
-Injury
-Death

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Emma screamed as her injured leg gave out underneath her. The aliens, invading the bodies of the people the thought she could trust, towered above her.

"The apotheosis is upon us!"

The apotheosis. Who even uses that word? Well, these aliens, apparently. They were singing. She was screaming.

Emma pulled her legs against her chest, making herself as small as possible. She wouldn't give up without a fight. She was Emma Perkins, and Emma Perkins doesn't give up that easily.

She screwed her eyes shut as the aliens touched her, prying her hands away. They were going to rip her guts out, weren't they? She braced herself for the pain, though nothing happened, just the feeling of someone pulling her into a standing position.

"Emma."

Emma opened her eyes, and she saw him. Paul. The man she could've loved, if those alien fuckers hadn't killed him.

"Paul..."

He smiled, too wide for Emma's liking.

"Take the girl," everyone in the room said. Emma shivered, the way they talked, like a bunch of robots, freaked her out. "She was the one who made you blow up the meteor, our mother. She must pay for her actions."

"She doesn't deserve to be one of us!" someone shouted, Emma was pretty sure it sounded like Paul's coworker, that asshole. What was his name? Todd? Ted? She didn't know his friends' fucking names!

Silence. No one talked or sang. Emma cried out as Paul lifted her into his arms, struggling to hold her as her legs kicked everything they could reach. "No! Paul! Put me down!"

She kept moving, determined to make it as difficult as possible for him to hold her. But he was strong. Stronger than he was before. Stupid aliens.

"Emma, stop struggling," he said, putting her down on her feet, though he held a tight grip on her wrist.

"Fuck you!" she shouted. "Fuck all of you! You guys don't want this!"

"No, Emma," everyone spoke with that same robotic voice as before. "All we want is revenge. And we'll get it."

Someone grabbed her from behind, and she could see a flash of professor Hidgens's gray hair before she felt the prick in her neck. "No!" she shouted, trying to blink away the black spots in her vision. If they knocked her out right now there was a huge chance she wouldn't wake up. Well, at least it wouldn't hurt if she was unconscious, she thought as she was embraced by darkness.

*** *** ***

When Emma woke up, Paul was restraining her to a table, tightening the strap around her chest. She immediately started fighting, tugging at the restraints around her ankles and wrists. "Let me go, you bastard!"

Paul just smiled. "Glad to see you're awake, Emma."

Emma looked around. She recognized this room. It was the lab of professor Hidgens. The interior was all shoved to the side, and the desks were empty, aside from a few beakers filled with all sorts of blue substances. The table she lay on was in the middle of the room. Did they prepare for her or was the professor crazy enough to have a table with restraints? He probably was.

"Emma Perkins," Paul interrupted her thoughts. "The girl who caused us so much trouble. You will now pay for your actions."

The door of the lab opened, and professor Hidgens entered the room. "Hello, dear."

Paul smiled, and the professor handed him something, but Emma couldn't move her head enough to see what it was.

Paul walked towards her, and he hid the object he was holding behind his back. He put it down, and started unwrapping the bandages around Emma's thigh. Fuck.

"I swear to God if you get any blue shit near my wound I will kill you!"

Paul just chuckled, continuing to unwrap the bandages. Emma bit her lip as they stuck to the dried blood and pulled at the skin.

He grabbed the object the professor had given him. Tweezers. Emma's eyes widened. "Fuck, Paul! Don't do it!" she screamed as he brought them closer to the wound, to the stitches.

She struggled against the restraints as he carefully grabbed one of the stitches on the outside of her thigh. "Emma, stay still."

"Don't do this! Please!"

The professor put his hand over her mouth, and she tried to move away, but he kept it in place. She didn't dare to lick his hand in an attempt to make him let go, scared his skin had any blue shit on it.

She screamed as Paul pulled the stitches out of her leg one by one, tearing the skin. How on earth was she going to explain this when she got saved? 'Yes, some alien ruined the stitches, and it started to bleed again.' There was no way any doctor would believe her.

Professor Hidgens smiled and took his hand off her mouth. Emma took a deep breath as Paul moved onto the wound on the inside of her thigh. She didn't even scream as he pulled the stitches out, she just clenched her fists and closed her eyes.

This is just some kind of fucked up nightmare, she kept telling herself, this isn't real.

But it was real. The man she thought she could've loved was actually hurting her, torturing her, while humming a song Emma only vaguely recognized.

She was still struggling, but she knew it was a fight she'd lose.

Paul put the tweezers down, next to the small pile of stitches. He smiled at her. She hated that that smile made her feel something. Love. Even though he wasn't even the real Paul.

He uncuffed her hands, instead attaching them to a rope. He untied all of the restraints and forced her to stand up. Emma tried not to cry out loud when she put pressure on her leg.

"Come with me," professor Hidgens said, taking the ropes attached to her hands. He led her to another, smaller room. He threw a few glasses on the ground. "Clean that up," he said, shoving her into the room. "If you miss anything you will be punished. You have five minutes."

He gave her a bowl, switched off the light, and closed the door, leaving Emma in complete darkness, as there were no windows in the room.

Emma carefully lowered herself on her knees, and she could already feel the glass dig into her skin. She started feeling for the glass, her hands were bleeding heavily after finding only a few shards. She could feel the warm liquid trail down her wrists. And her knees... she had never hated Nora more for making her wear shorts with her uniform.

After a few minutes, the door opened, and Paul grabbed her from behind, dragging her out of the room and back to the lab. She fought as they laid her back on the table, but they were strong. She was lying on her front now, and they were taking off her blouse, exposing her back. Shit. Professor Hidgens was holding a small bowl with glass shards. "You missed those," he said, before grabbing one of them and impaling Emma's lower back with it.

Emma didn't scream, but she gasped in pain and surprise, while the professor continued to press the glass into her skin.

Paul was holding her hand. He squeezed softly, as if he was trying to comfort her. Was there something left of him? Or had the alien full control over his mind and body?

When professor Hidgens was done, Paul stood up, and grabbed a knife. "We can let you go," he said. "But we have to make sure you don't go anywhere." He stabbed the knife into her leg, ignoring Emma's screams as they echoed through the room.

He untied the restraints as Emma cried, and they left. She was alone. She was free.

She sat up the table and hopped to one of the cabinets above the desks. She knew the professor kept a first aid kit there.

She took out the supplies, biting her lip as she cleaned all of her wounds.

A gunshot. Screams. Another gunshot. Footsteps coming closer. The door opened...

Emma looked up, and a soldier stared at her, his eyes wide. "You're human!" he said.

Emma nodded. The soldier kneeled down next to her. "I'll get you out of here." He lifted her into his arms, and together they went upstairs.

"What happened?" he asked.

And so Emma explained. Everything. About Paul, about his colleagues, about professor Hidgens, about the helicopter crash, about the songs.

The soldier was silent, listening to what she said. He probably wanted to keep her talking, as the stab wound in her leg was still losing a lot of blood.

"And Paul? Did you-"

"I- Yeah. I'm sorry, he's dead."

Emma nodded. "I wish things had gone differently."

Emma tensed up as she realized where he was taking her. A helicopter. She allowed him to put her down in one of the seats, though. She didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

She lost consciousness before the helicopter even took off.

*** *** ***

"You're good to go, Kelly," colonel Schaffer said, holding the door open.

"Ugh, stop calling me that." Emma had spent the last month in the Clivesdale Hospital, and she was given a new identity to prevent information to get out to the public. Apparently the government doesn't want people to know about the fucking apocalypse.

"Sorry, Kelly, but you have no choice. If we ever find you telling anyone about Emma Perkins, you'll be in serious trouble."

Emma sighed. "Okay."

"Well, I sure hope you'll enjoy your pot farm in Colorado. Maybe you could give me a discount?" The colonel winked. "I'm just kidding, get that money, Kelly."

Emma chuckled awkwardly. "Thanks."

"Goodbye, Kelly."

"Goodbye."

Emma stepped outside for the first time in a month, standing still to let the warm breeze hit her face.

She was safe. But alone.