Amber Silverblood: Silverpack

Chapter Fifty

Darkness. Peaceful, quiet, darkness. All of my rage and anger evaporated, leaving me feeling calm for the first time since I'd fought the hyena. I didn't want to move, or think, or do anything except lie here and drift in the endless sea of shadows behind my eyelids, because I knew as soon as I woke up the anger would come back and I would go on another rampage. I didn't want that, not yet. Now it was time to rest.

All too soon, though, a ray of light pierced the darkness, rousing me despite my best efforts to ignore it.

No. Not yet. Just a little longer.

I couldn't stop it, though. My brain had woken up, and the rest of my body started to follow. I cringed, waiting for the wave of anger to roll over me, washing away everything else and sending me into a blind murderous rage.

It never came.

"W- What?" I asked in confusion, and then jumped when I recognized my human voice. My eyes shot open, and I found myself lying on the floor in Stark's living room, buck naked. The furniture lay strewn around the room, and a huge, gaping hole in the wall led into Stark's bedroom. In there, another hole led into the front yard, through which the morning sun shone into the ruined house. I shook my head, trying to chase away the sleepiness. What the hell happened last night? I closed my eyes again and tried to remember.

There was... Becky. Yeah, I remembered now. And Rebecca. No, they were the same thing, weren't they? She'd beaten the hell out of me, beaten the hell out of Stark, beaten the hell out of my mom, and then... nothing. I couldn't remember anything after that.

A chill ran down my spine. No, that wasn't true. I could remember some things. They were scattered memories, mostly just flashes of images, scents, sounds, and an overwhelming sense of anger. I'd... fought Becky? And won, if those memories were reliable. I couldn't remember much, but I remember her being there one minute, and then not there the next, so I must have won, right?

Then I had... I racked my brain. I'd gone home? I saw my mom, I saw Stark. They'd both still been knocked out, but then something else had happened. Something that had made me angrier than ever. What had it...

I froze.

KIMBERLY!

Scrambling to my feet, I ran through the house, ignoring the chunks of wood and plaster that cut my feet. I hopped through the hole into Stark's room, and there, lying on the floor...

"No," I whispered, stepping back. I tripped on an overturned lamp and fell onto my backside. She was still there, lying on the floor in a puddle of her own blood. I started hyperventilating and stars danced in front of my eyes. This couldn't be real. It was a trick. I was hallucinating. Moving with dreamlike slowness, I slapped myself across the face, hoping I would wake up and end this horrible nightmare. My vision flashed white, but when it cleared nothing had changed.

Kimberly was still lying there... and her right arm lay on the other side of the room.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," I whispered, sliding backwards across the floor until I hit the wall. After everything I'd done, everything I'd promised... I'd sworn to protect her. I'd sworn to myself and to Stark. And then this? No, I was still dreaming. I had to be. Either that, or Becky had killed me after all, and now I was in some special ring of hell made just for me. This couldn't be real, because if it was, I hadn't just failed her. It was so much worse than that. I was the one who'd done this to her.

Again.

My mind went blank, already overwhelmed not even five minutes after waking up, and I got to my feet and walked toward her. My ankles caught the lamp again, and I tripped a second time, landing flat on my face. I ignored the pain and crawled across the floor until I reached her. Then, with a trembling hand I reached out and...