Disclaimer: Total fiction, not true, events are fake, people here are figments of the imagination, leprechauns are real, and there�s someone standing right behind you. Boo.
The Next Part of the Story:
The assault on his mind was nearing a brink. The twenty telepaths stationed around the perimeter of his rapidly deteriorating wall were just finished gathering one last heap of energy for a final blast.
The man, desperate and terrified, could do nothing. His memories, his mind, was nearly gone. He had no name, he had no life, nothing to remind him of who or what he was. One goal remained, though, set deep into the very roots of his being. The. . . wall. . . must. . . stand.
Whatever happened, the wall must stay, must stand. It cannot fall, it cannot let out whatever is behind it. The Man, now The Person because he no longer remembers the differences between male and female, watches the ruins of the wall tremble and sway in the dark void of his mind. What�s left of them is mere columns of blackened bricks, dark from the blasts that took out their neighbors.
The intervals between each pile of forgotten memories should have been enough to see just what was hiding behind the wall. Something that powerful should have been clearly seen by now. But whatever it was that The Person who was once called Adam Carson tried to hide, to protect, to forget, it was intelligent enough to hide, just beyond the scope of sight. The Person peered closely into the shadow of the wall, to the nothingness beyond, and blinked. A brief, flashing blink answered back, then was gone with a whoosh of familiar, vanilla scent.
The intruders raised their hands. They began their final assault. The Person, unable to do more than whimper sadly, watched from just behind the last telepath. As one, they drew their blasts, then suddenly disappeared. All of them, every single telepath to invade in his space, just. . . vanished. Gone. Alone, he was simply alone.
If he had remembered that this was a good thing, he would have smiled and rejoiced, but that memory was gone, too. The goal was still there, however. The wall needed to stand, it needed to be rebuilt. The Person stepped forward and looked around. Remnants and pieces of old memory scattered about the ground after the blast. He tried to grab several of these together to make some sort of makeshift barrier, but the pieces crumbled to ash beneath his fingers and disappeared. He gave a weak, helpless cry and began reaching for more.
But his searching took him too close to a gap in the wall. The Person froze as he heard shuffling, quite near, and very excited to see him. He looked up and met two gleaming eyes.
�Hello.� The Person said, ignoring the last ringing memory about the wall standing. Besides, it was annoying. Why should he listen to this last warning when all the other warnings had already left? With this last one gone, his mind would be nice and empty. And peacefully quiet. He didn�t realize how much he wanted that quiet until he saw the large eyes before him.
�Hello,� The Person said to the darkness again, �I said hello. Who are you?�
Shuffling, shifting, slight scrambling over fallen debris. The eyes came back, now set in a face. A nice, youthful face, achingly familiar. The new person, for it was a person, The First Person knew, was no more than a child. They blinked at The Person innocently with soot stained cheeks.
�Can. . .� It spoke softly and unsure, �can I. . . come out now? I promise I�ll be good. Please? Please can I come out?� Tiny hands, dirty but still so small and young, slowly reached out to The Person.
�Can�t you. . . can�t you get out by yourself?� The Person asked, growing just a little uneasy. �It�s not that much left on this here wall. Just. . . just swing your leg over. You can get out by yourself.�
The child shook its head sadly. �I can�t. I can only be let out by the person who put me in. The wall is only for show, to hide what I look like, so no one will see me. The person who put me in has to pull me out.�
The Person frowned. �Now who would do that? Who would be that horrible to hide a kid? Why, you�re just a little thing, ain�t you? Who did this to you? Who locked you up?�
The child blinked rapidly, head tilting down as if to hide the tears it was sniffling back. The Person began to reach a sympathetic hand over to pet the child�s head. But as he did so, the back of his hand brushed against the wall, and a memory came back. A brief flicker of thought.
Hey, The Person thought to themself, I remember that! That�s. . . that�s my memory! That kitten, her name. . . The Person pulled back and touched the brick of memory again, clearing off some of the dirt collected on the surface. The full memory came back to him now.
�The cat,� The Person whispered now, �the cat was named Fluffy, only I wanted to call it Gut-Splatter! That cat. . . that was when, when. . .� he had no words for the pictures flashing before him on the brick�s surface. The memory, it seemed, was of two little boys, one dark haired and stringy, the other short and with blond hair long enough to be pulled back in a braided plait. Together, they sat on a carpet, playing with a smoke-colored kitten. The cat. . . the two boys. . . one of them looked familiar. . .
The Person looked up and into the large eyes of one of those boys. Tears filled their eyes as they pleaded silently at The Person. Let me out, they begged, let me out let me out let me out let me out. . .
The last warning, the last goal The Person had came raging back to his mind. He yanked his hand back from the memory brick just in time to avoid the quick, desperate snatching hand of the imprisoned child. It hissed and drew back into the darkness.
The Person shivered. �I know who you are!� he whispered as he scrambled backward as far as he could. Then his voice took on strength. �I know who you are! You�re not escaping! You�re staying in there forever!�
�No, I�m not!� The child hissed back. But it was more than a child, he knew now, it was so much more. It took the form of the child he would have recognized, the child he would have helped no matter what. But it wasn�t THAT child, it was. . . . It cut his thoughts off. �No I�m not!� A dark chuckle from behind the fragmented wall, �You can�t sense it, but it�s coming! It�s coming, and when it does, it�ll tear down the last of this wall, and then I�ll be free forever! Ha, ha, ha!�
The Person stood quickly and searched around. What was that? What was coming? He sensed it now, just past his barriers. It was the thing that took the other intruders, he knew now. It took them away to leave him with his wall. But what was it? Was it good or bad?
The Person paused, hearing the oncoming approach. Bad, he realized immediately, it was bad, very bad. He turned one last time to the wall and now saw the actual form of the hidden monster take shape and stand before the gap, in full view. Behind him, the wave of badness began to roar across the horizon, lighting everything like the dawn, but The Person ignored this. He stared at the monster and sighed.
�Now you recognize me?� It asked, voice familiar but happy now that it was about to be released. �Do you know who I am?�
The Person nodded. �Yes. I know you. You, are me. I am you. We were together once.�
�We will be once again.�
�No, we can�t. It won�t just kill us, it will kill him.�
�But, I thought you knew.� The monster behind the wall grinned broadly, �It�s because of him that I want out again. He is mine, and I am his. We will be together once again, and then, no one will be able to stop us.�
If the other had anything to say about it, it was lost in the fierce wave of the Psych-bomb as it tore through and incinerated the remaining bits of the wall. The two facing each other began their reunification, voluntary or not.
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The bomb wore off and Steven woke up from the mind-numbing trance. He sat up with a groan and shook himself. That proved to be a mistake.
Steve whimpered and tilted slightly until the world stopped spinning around him. When he was sure the trails he saw after he moved his hands about in the air were perfectly normal, Steven wobbled to his feet and peered over the wooden fence. What he saw made no sense for nearly five minutes. It was the screams of his friend that brought him to his senses.
Steven�s spine stiffened and he gripped the fence tightly. His eyes widened at what he saw. Stefan, good ol� funny, mostly horny, Stefan lay on the ground, shaking violently. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and two twin trails of blood leaked from his nostrils. Ten telepaths stood over him, at the furious command of Madame Scarlett. Too many, Steve knew, which meant they were going to break, then kill him.
He looked around for Brian, half hoping the short, hot-tempered cuss had managed to get as far away with the lovebirds as possible. But his disappointment dropped like lead in his stomach. Brian lay on the grass, hands still clasped over the wound on his stomach. Blood leaked over his fingers and fell to the dirt. His wide, clear green eyes lay open and vacantly at Steve.
�Bri,� Steve whimpered softly, unable to take enough air for anything louder, �Nooo, Brian, noooo!�
His eyes watered and his first instinct was to pull back and away from the fence long enough to wipe them. But something stopped him. That something nearly made him fall from the fence in surprise.
Steve wiped his eyes frantically with one hand, then peered closely again. There, dammit! Brian blinked once, twice. Slowly, weakly, his mouth moved and twisted into his familiar mischievous grin. A moment later, and the sly wink followed. Steve nearly pissed himself happy. He looked up and down but his happiness faded. There was no way to get to his friend. He was in the middle of the yard, unable to move or be moved without getting noticed.
Steve looked at the groups over Stefan. They were close, he saw, dangerously close to killing him. He had no choice, then. He had only one last option.
He turned back to Brian. With a solemn expression, he made a cranking motion. Brian frowned slightly, but nodded slowly. He understood. He knew what Steve meant to do and agreed. He didn�t smile, but blew a kiss before Steve disappeared over the fence again to set the bomb one last time. Hopefully, Brian would be strong enough to succeed this time.
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Davey looked down in horror. �Adam? Adam, are you. . .?� But he could get no more. The sight he saw made him cringe and whine.
Adam Carson lay on the ground, eyes searching about blindly and hands waving frantically. �Davey,� he cried again, �Davey! Where are you? Davey!�
Davey tore loose from his aunt, no mother, and rushed to Adam�s side. �I�m here, Adam, I�m here. Oh, God, Adam, look at me!�
Finally, those blue icebergs turned and met frightened browns. They blinked and Adam shook his head in rejection. �No, no, not Davey. You�re not Davey. Where�s Davey? Where�s Little Davey?�
He could do nothing but stare at his stripped friend. Here was Adam, his love, but he wasn�t really here; he was gone. He wasn�t the person Davey knew anymore. And maybe, he wouldn�t ever be.
Davey looked away, unable to see the rejection in those almost blind eyes. He looked up and saw the other half of the telepaths conferring with Celeste. She was making it clear she wanted not only Adam stripped, but for Davey�s own memory to be altered, if possible. It looked like it just might be, too. He looked away desperately and saw his friend, laying with his back to Davey, facing the far fence.
Davey stopped and looked back at the fence. The man on the other side made a motion toward Brian, then disappeared. What. . .? But Davey had no idea what it meant. What he needed was help. Help that wasn�t hiding behind a fence or bleeding to death on the grass. He needed. . .
But just then the second and final wave of the Psych-bomb began, freezing and taking over the telepaths once more. Davey held on tightly as Adam suddenly arched in his embrace, clawing frantically at anything.
�Adam!� Davey cried out. He tried holding his friend down but Adam was showing some very inhuman strength. Adam�s fist connected with Davey�s jaw and sent him flying backward into a small pile of beer cans.
�Find it!� Davey heard Celeste�s voice screeching commands. �Forget that bastard. Find it, Scarlett! It can�t be far off. Find it and kill whoever keeps turning it on!�
Davey sat up and looked immediately to the gate. The fleeting glimpse of Scarlett�s red dress flashed as she hurried to do as her boss ordered. He groaned and forced himself up. However, he wasn�t the only one struggling to stand.
Adam had rolled over to his stomach and now appeared to be shifting to his knees. His elbows shook and his knees nearly gave, but one more gigantic push and he was on his feet. He tottered to the left, to the right, then seemed to find his balance. Davey watched his friend eye the fallen telepaths for a moment before turning to look at him.
Davey should have been alarmed. That much he knew. He wasn�t sure why he wasn�t afraid, it was just seeing Adam up and walking again that drove every other thought from his brain. �Adam!� Davey whispered breathlessly. He started forward, but was stopped by Adam himself.
�Wait, Davey.� Adam said, but not aloud. The voice in his head was calm and sure. It sounded like Adam, just two of him talking at once. �Don�t come near me. I can�t control it if you come near just yet. Stand back.� Davey nodded dully and moved back. Here was Adam at last to tell him everything was all right, that everything was going to be just fine.
Adam turned back to the main problem. Celeste stood, noble and proud, in the middle of the pained telepaths. She was a pillar of calm in a sea of madness. She held a small knife in one hand and a gun in the other. The gun was pointed at Adam, the knife was held at her side, ready if she needed it.
�You won�t need it.� Adam said, this time with his physical voice. �I�ll give you one last chance, Celeste. Leave here now, without Davey, and I�ll let you live.�
Celeste knew a real threat when she spoke it. It was always hard to hear a real one not her own. A small smile played at her lips. �Tell me, little Adam, how on earth did you block out the Psych-bomb?� Out of the corner of his eye, Davey saw Brian struggling over to his friend, the one the telepaths were hurting earlier. He didn�t look so as not to draw attention.
�I�m more powerful than I was, Celeste.� Adam said, avoiding the answer. �What should concern you is just how you�ll leave here still alive.�
Celeste sneered. She heard it. Alive, not unharmed. �You arrogant piece of shit. I�ve killed more people than you�ve got years, brat. Besides, Scarlett is now disarming the fuckin� bomb as we speak. As soon as my men wake, they�ll tear you to pieces.� But Davey heard her insecurity. Adam hadn�t picked up on it since he didn�t know her cues as well as Davey. So he helped.
�If they could do it,� Davey said suddenly, catching Celeste�s eye briefly, �they would have done it by now. Give up, Celeste. Give up and go home, please.�
Celeste sniffed sadly. �Traitor. Spawn of my body, traitor of my heart. If I had known you�d betray me like this. . .� she was trying to play on his heart, but he had her number.
�You betrayed me first, Celeste,� Davey said quietly. �You sent me to live with Frank and the Crazy Bitch. She hit me, he fucked me up. You ruined me from the start.�
It worked. Celeste shifted uncomfortably. �Oh, Davey,� she said at last, �You know how sorry I am! I didn�t know they were that bad! The most I figured they would simply ignore you and let you be yourself! Understand, baby, it was a very hard time. I was caught every other day the year you were born! I had to keep you safe! No one knew I had a half-sister. I hardly knew her, but she was very keen to have a child in the house. I made a bad decision, Davey, I�m sorry. But come with me and I�ll more than make it up to you, Davey dearest!�
But Davey shook his head. �No, Celeste, I�m staying, you�re going back. That�s all there is to it.� Now Brian was standing. He was dragging himself over to the fence. What his friend was doing, he had no idea, but it was making Davey deathly curious. Besides, not to be rude as hell, but wasn�t she supposed to be dead? Wasn�t she stabbed by Celeste in the stomach?
Celeste looked from Davey to Adam. Trails of tears fell across her cheeks just as she straightened her spine. They weren�t her usual crocodile ones, either. �Well, then,� Celeste said, addressing Davey, �I expect to see you and your intended at my mansion for Thanksgiving. And Christmas. You�ll come Christmas, won�t you?� She looked at Davey, helpless and very much the sixty years she was carrying around.
Davey felt his eyes water. He nodded, unable to find the words. Celeste smiled, a simple one, devoid of anything but kindness and relief. �Come on, Davey dearest, give an old woman one last hug.� She held open her hands, the weapons still held tightly in both, to receive her son.
He thought nothing of it. Adam was awake and able to take care of him again. He was safe. Besides, Celeste was admitting defeat. She always gave in when she knew she was outwitted or outnumbered. He went to her willingly, almost not hearing the sharp warning from Adam. But it was already too late.
She dropped the knife to the ground and took hold of Davey wrist. With a great heave, she turned him around so the he faced Adam, the barrel of the gun shoved into his side. �Celeste!� Davey managed before she jammed it aggressively between two ribs.
�Shut up.� she whispered, the emotion in every word. �I gave you a chance, Davey. You chose him. Now you�ll go with him. You�ll go with him to hell. Goodbye Davey. You should have known by now that if I couldn�t have you, no one would.� He looked down and saw her finger begin to squeeze.
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Hunter slipped his shirt back on and re-looped his belt. He glanced up and saw Jade�s flesh hide once more under his clothes.
Jade looked up, nearly catching Hunter�s eyes. But the blond turned away before they could meet. Jade would have taken this for shame, embarrassment, many things actually. But the flush and faint traces of a smile told Jade something different. Hunter. . .
Jade smiled broadly and turned to put on his shoes. Hunter glanced again and saw the smile. He paused, then burst into a grin as well. That is, until they heard the shouting.
As luck would have it, they had missed Adam�s earlier screams because. . . *cough*. . . they were too occupied with their own. But this time, there was no heated-body pressed to heated-body, no whimpers, no strings of affectionate curses, no squeaking bed springs, no pounding of the bed against the wall. Just the soft sounds of the two of them dressing. It was a shame about that blanket, though, Jade thought, maybe a little washing was all it needed. . .
They both froze when they heard it. They caught gazes again but this time it was for a different matter. Hunter was first to reach the door. He led the way through the house and to the open kitchen door. They took a few moments to gather what it was they were seeing, then act on it. The first thing they saw was the woman holding Davey hostage, Adam standing before them, unable to move.
�Hey! Hey, fucking. . . Jade!� Hunter rushed over to Adam, but Jade turned to the person who called him. It was Brian, over by the far fence. He was clutching his stomach with one hand and a gun with the other. �Come here, motherfucker!� Brian called out. Jade could have sworn he was happy to see him.
Jade started forward, then slowed. There was one of Brian�s friends, he was sure, still kicking spasmodically on the grass. �Leave him!� Brian�s voice was a hoarse whisper now. Jade new whatever the man wanted, he had to do it quick. He left the man on the ground and hurried to Brian.
�Climb this fence,� Brian flicked his head behind him at the gate supporting him. Sweat beaded across his upper lip and at his temples. �Hurry, there�s not much time left. He�s too close to the bomb. Hurry the fuck up, man!�
Jade didn�t bother to ask questions. He braced himself and leaped over, only banging his ankle slightly. When he landed, the first thing he saw was the dead woman in the red dress. She was an older woman, but still pretty in a soft way. A charred black and red hole oozed blood out of the middle of her forehead.
�Go to the bomb,� Brian called over the fence, panting heavily, �release the pin. It�s got. . . it�s got a big ring through it. Sorta looks like. . . ha, ha, ha, a fuckin� grenade pin. Pull it! It�ll turn the fucking thing off. Wake Steve up before his head explodes.�
Jade saw who Brian meant. Steve lay off to the side, eyes filled with blood and breath shallow and labored. Jade ran to the. . . did he say it was a bomb? Nevertheless, he did as commanded and released the pin. �Okay, I pulled it.� Jade called over the fence. He waited. No answer, no movement. �Brian? Brian? You still up, man?� No answer.
�Oh, shit.� Jade muttered as he watched Steve begin to recover.
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The telepaths began to stir, much to Celeste�s pleasure. She eased up on the trigger briefly. The head of the squad shambled over, but not too close to Celeste. She glanced at him, then at Adam.
�Take him out.� She said. The leader of the Peeps nodded once, then gathered his group together.
�Don�t.� Adam warned. His jaw was set in his �stubborn� face, but his eyes were uncharacteristically cold.
Celeste grinned. �Afraid?�
�No,� Adam admitted truthfully, �But they don�t have to die for your stupidity. Let them go.�
�You�re in no position to demand, let alone bargain.� She shoved the gun further, making Davey cry out. Adam�s flinch was visible, but it wasn�t frightened. It was mad, and every minute that passed, he was getting even more pissed.
He turned his eyes of blue fire to the twenty telepaths. Where he looked, a convulsive shudder wracked through a body, eyes looked aside and breath caught in throats. There was a silence, then each telepath raised their hands, just as they had done for their earlier attack. But this time there was no attack. Not when Adam had already killed them where they stood.
One by one, starting from the first to the last he�d looked at, they all fell with a thud to the grass. Celeste cursed and toed the nearest one with her boot. This happened to be the leader of the squad.
�Get up!� she demanded. �Get up and kill him already!�
�They won�t listen to you, Celeste,� Adam said. Beside him, Hunter slowly began to back away in undisguised horror. Adam ignored him presently. �Not even you have the power over the dead.�
Celeste cursed. Her eyes flickered back and forth across the yard. �Scarlett! Scarlett! Where are you? You turned it off, so come back here!�
�She�s dead.� Jade said, hopping down from the top of the fence. As he walked toward them, he saw the rows of their friends, the ones who came for the party, slowly begin to wake and sit up.
Celeste heard him and knew it was true. Her grip on Davey�s wrist was painful and hot. She couldn�t even get a curse past her clenched teeth. So she fell back to plan C. It was all she had left, anyway. �Davey, dearest,� she whispered sweetly, quietly to Davey�s ears alone, �take a final look at your beloved. This�ll be the last time you�ll see him on this earth.�
Davey did as she said and looked up at Adam with sorrowful eyes. Adam seemed to realize what was about to happen. �DAVEY, NO!� but it was too late. The gun went off and Davey felt the bullet rip through his body, trying desperately in its crazy angle to find and silence his heart.
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