Chapter Text
I wake up with a cold shudder. The warmth quickly leaves me as I wrestle myself out of the covers. My body does a practiced combat roll face-first onto the floor, producing a sound all too familiar to both myself and the walls of this humble abode.
THUMP*
Yup, still hurts like a bitch. I lift myself up with a groan, still groggy from the long night’s sleep. Seems like the ass-kicking Fang dished out yesterday took more out of me than I thought. I feel my body screaming in protest, begging me to go back to sleep. Well, who am I to complain? It’s still morning, after all.
I get up from the floor and prepare to return to the comfort of my bed. Yet, as I lay my eyes on it, a peculiar detail catches my eye.
Fang isn’t in it.
‘Did she leave early?’ That’s very unlike her, especially after what happened last night. The memory of her carnage is still fresh in my mind. I didn’t think she would have it in her to go to school after all that.
The sound of birds chirping outside brings my attention to the window. I frown in confusion at the sight outside. It’s way too bright for an early morning. The mist would usually be obscuring the faint sunlight at this time, and yet it’s shining through much brighter than usual.
Something’s wrong.
Why is the sun so far up? My alarm hasn’t gone off ye-
“...”
A cold feeling envelops my body when I take a look at my alarm clock, all the sleepiness leaving me in an instant. It’s unplugged, the digital screen on the front devoid of numbers being proof enough.
Any other day, I would be worried about running late to class. Wouldn’t want to piss Spears off anymore than I already have. Knowing him, I’d probably get detention for the next two weeks for this.
But... that’s not even close to being my priority right now.
Fang is gone. My alarm is unplugged. No notice of where she is. I try to connect the dots, but my mind comes up with nothing. Nothing that would make sense. Why would she sneak out? Did she not want to talk to me? I guess I can understand where she’s coming from after last night, but still, it’s way too unlike her to just leave without a word.
Ding*
My phone makes a notification sound, as if sensing my unease.
I quickly pick it up from my table and check the messages. There’s only one, and it’s from Fang.
‘Good, that’s... that’s good.’ It means she’s fine. She probably shot me a text to tell me that she went ahead of me. I’m glad we’re still on speaking terms at least. I need to apologize for last night.
I open the text and check its contents.
♪ Control over my life you denied,
And now death approaches from the sky,
Why’d it be me you had to vilify?
Goodbye, Volcano High.♪
‘Wh-What the fuck!?’ Goosebumps erupt all over my body as I read the cryptic text. My mind immediately goes back to my previous thoughts.
Fang’s gone. My alarm is unplugged. No notice of where she is. Her mental state last night...
‘This, what does this mean?’ The pit in my stomach grows larger the longer I stare at the words on the screen. I need to see her. I need to-
I book it out of my apartment at a speed that would put olympic athletes to shame, my mind going through a hundred different scenarios. The adrenaline pushes me to go faster—much faster than I’ve ever ran before.
‘Please, please be alright.’ I run and run. The cold morning mist sticks to my skin, making me shudder. But I don’t care. There’s no way the morning cold can measure up to what I’m feeling inside. My entire body is awash with a special kind of cold that permeates every fiber of my being.
The whole time my mind floods with horrid worst-case scenarios.
The outline of Volcano High makes its presence known from a distance. As I approach the school, I notice a crowd through the haze. There’s a large gathering of students near the bottom of the steps.
Maybe it’s just some natural disaster test drill. Yeah, that’s why they’re all gathered outside during class time.
As I approach, the illusion I put myself under is shattered when I see the majority of the crowd huddling and crying, with teachers quietly making sure everyone is accounted for.
She has to be in this crowd. There’s... There’s just a fire in the school, is all.
“YOU!!” A voice calls out through the silence for all to hear.
I turn towards the source of it and notice a familiar purple figure pointing a shaky finger at me.
It’s Trish, red-faced and screaming, with tears running down the sides of her face. Her expression is that of anger and hate, no doubt directed at me. But why?
“You bastard!” She screams again. “Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?!”
“Now look at what happened!” Her screams threaten to tear her throat. “Look at what you’ve done!”
The cold feeling in my chest only intensifies. My limbs feel stiff yet full of adrenaline. I’d like to get more information, to ask someone what’s really going on. But not seeing Fang anywhere makes me want to waste as little time as possible.
I book it up the stairs, Trish’s cries resounding in my head again and again.
“I was right about you!” She screams from behind me, but it’s all drowned out by the thousands of the worst thoughts running through my head.
...I don’t have time for this.
‘Where is Fang? Where is Fang!?’ I slip in through the side entrance into the school unnoticed.
The halls are silent, eerily so. It’s a stark contrast to the loud commotion outside. The school hallways are made even more creepy by the faint light coming from outside. The shadows seem much deeper than usual, almost as if they’re alive.
As I begin to walk forward I notice a large string of letters hanging from the ceiling in the main hall. The words ‘Welcome, students of St. Hammond High!’ make a mockery of the current situation. I’d like to make a snarky comment at the irony of it all, but there’s a more pressing matter at hand.
‘Fang should be having a period with Naomi now.’ Shit, that’s not on this floor!
I quickly navigate the now familiar halls of the school, reaching the stairs in record time. As I prepare to go up, my legs freeze up. My instincts scream at me to stop, to turn back. There’s a certain heaviness in the air that makes my caveman intuition scream in fear.
‘No, no... Fang, Fang needs me!’ I push my cowardly body up with a grim determination.
“...”
I freeze again as I reach the midsection of the stairwell. The reason? It’s the smell. It hits me with a shocking realization. That electric, almost metallic stench of wet ozone. Something I’ve smelled only a few times in my entire life when I got into a fight.
And now, there’s so much of it. So much more than I’d ever thought possible. It’s overwhelming my senses, as if threatening me to go no further. But I can’t afford to listen to its threats right now, not today.
I take a deep gulp and lean on the railing, slowly making my way upwards. The sight that greets me is something I wouldn’t be able to conjure up even in my worst nightmares.
Bodies litter the floor. The students of Volcano High lie scattered across the hallway. Their contorted expressions of fear and rage showcasing their final moments, as if frozen in time.
‘This isn’t real; this isn’t real.’ I tell myself as I take shaky steps forward, navigating among the corpses of my former classmates. I-Is that Naser over at the end of the hall? No. No. No. This can’t be happening. I just... I just need to focus on one thing at a time.
...Where is Fang...?
I continue forward with her in mind. There’s one open door in the middle of the hallway. As I look inside, a scene that I will never be able to forget enters my sight.
Naomi...
Naomi is lying on the cold ground, a stream of blood pouring onto the floor from her head. But she’s not alone.
A short distance from her lies another victim, an unfamiliar dark blue parasaur with brown hair sits slumped against another body. A bloody stain mars his shirt as his purple, lifeless eyes stare forward.
I resist the urge to hurl as my eyes lock onto his. This is too much, too wrong. I avert my gaze from the bloodshed and turn around to continue walking. The carnage in the hallway greets me once more. Did Fang really do all of this? I’d like to believe otherwise, but considering how she was acting last night, and the things Trish screamed, it all points to the worst possible scenario.
‘I need to find her bef-’
“Mhm.” A low voice breaks me out of my thoughts. It echoes like a silent chime in the empty hallway, making me stop dead in my tracks.
“Mhm, ugh.” Again, I can hear it clearly. It’s coming from behind me, from the room I just left. The room where Naomi is...
No, it can’t be Naomi.
I slowly turn around and glance back inside. Who?
“Ah... ha... ha.” The sound of slow, labored breathing draws my eyes to the ‘corpse’ behind the dark blue parasaur I saw earlier.
Behind him sits a third parasaur, this one dark red with blonde hair. He, no, she is struggling to breathe, fading in and out of consciousness before my very eyes. A small pool of blood is slowly forming underneath her.
‘I-Is she alive?’ How did she manage to survive for so long when everyone else couldn’t?
What do I do? What the fuck do I do? Do I give CPR? Does that even work with bullet wounds? I don’t want to make the situation worse with my stupidity.
‘Wait, no no no. I need to find Fang!’ Right, that’s the most important part. That’s what I’m here for. That’s what-
“Mhm.” Another pained moan breaks my thought process.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. What do I do!? Do I try to play hero, or do I try to find Fang? My heart is telling me to leave and go find her, but my instincts command otherwise.
I hate to admit it, but... I’m scared. I’m fucking terrified of running into Fang right now. The image of Naser’s lifeless body flashes through my mind. If she shot him, then would she spare me?
‘Could that be the reason she unplugged my alarm?’ Did she not want me to get caught up in her rampage? I don’t know what to make of it.
“Ugh.” Another groan comes from the girl in front of me.
Shit, okay, calm down. I can’t just leave this girl to die. I can get her out in a few minutes and come back in. Fang is probably not going anywhere anytime soon.
And maybe, just maybe, she’ll run out of bullets by the time I’m back.
‘I’m such a fucking coward.’
I shuffle forward and reach for the lifeless body of the guy in front. As I pull him off, a pained cry escapes the girl’s lips, and her face morphs into an expression of agony.
There’s a hole in her stomach in the same place as the body in front of her. Did this guy shield her with his body? I take a glance at his back as I lay him off of her.
‘...Looks like it wasn’t enough.’
There’s another hole coming through his back, leading to the entrance of the girl’s wound. His sacrifice might not have saved her from harm, but it looks like it was enough to save her life.
I reach out to the girl and pull her on my back, making sure her arms are around my neck so she doesn’t fall off and hurt herself even more.
‘Fuck, she’s heavy.’ Her weight makes my legs wobble under the strain. The tail must add a lot to it.
I slowly make my way through the door and into the bloody hallway, the sight of the brutal carnage once more being burned into my memory. I want to vomit, to scream, to cry... But that can come later.
The adrenaline is doing its job. I somehow manage to get to the end of the hallway and down the stairs without dropping the girl onto the floor. My muscles, my eyes, my nose, even my mind. Everything burns. It feels like my body is catching on fire.
‘One, two. One, two. One, two.’ I slowly count my steps towards the front door. It feels like I’ll break down if I think of anything but getting outside. That single-minded determination is the only thing pushing me forward. I can’t afford to let it slip from my mind.
“Wha-Where...I?” I hear a voice next to my ear, scaring the shit out of me. I crane my head back and look at the ‘baggage’ I’m carrying. My vision is met with half-closed blue eyes that express confusion and a great deal of pain. The girl is mouthing some silent words I can’t quite make out, her labored breaths doing little to help her speak properly. It’s clear she’s distressed by the situation. I need to calm her down before she starts fidgeting.
“Just, just hold on. Can you walk? We need to get you out of-” I try to say something, but the girl’s head drops down again and she fades back into unconsciousness, robbing me of my chance to get a response.
Well, maybe it’s a good thing. She would probably have had a panic attack if she stayed conscious long enough. And that would make this much, much harder than it needs to be.
As I reach the front doors, I give them a kick with all the strength left in my body. They open with a loud sound that alerts the crowd at the bottom of the stairs. Their gazes now rest on me. Fear, shock, awe, surprise. There’s no shortage of such expressions.
“Freeze!” A squadron of police officers quickly surround me with their guns drawn.
“Wait, she’s alive!” I scream at them, uncaring if they even shoot me anymore. Maybe I’ll wake from this nightmare if they do.
But, for better or worse, they don’t.
Instead, their expressions quickly change from caution to apprehension, to surprise, and, finally, to urgency. Two of them holster their guns and rush towards me while a third one runs down the stairs to alert a nearby ambulance. The rest keep their eyes locked on the hallway behind me, their guns drawn.
They take the girl from my shoulders and carefully set her down onto the floor, letting me finally catch a breather.
My lungs greedily suck in the fresh air. I never realized how much I took it for granted before I entered that hallway. Yet, no matter how much I try, I still can’t get the smell of blood out of my head.
I see a pair of paramedics running up the stairs with a stretcher. Good, that’s settled then. Now I just need to go back in and find Fa-
CRASH*
The sound of something hitting the pavement to my left stops my thoughts from continuing further.
“NOOOO!” A familiar loud scream sounds from behind me. I turn back and look at Trish. She’s fighting tooth and nail against the teachers and cops to get closer, tears streaming down her face. Her screams are getting more and more frantic, her hands pointing towards something.
For some reason, I don’t dare to turn and look. The worst possible scenario flashes through my mind.
And, as if to confirm my suspicions.
“Suspect down. I repeat, suspect down.” The policemen next to me rush towards the source of the crash with grim expressions.
Suspect down? What the fuck do you mean ‘suspect down’?!
‘No, no.’ I crane my head sideways. ’It can’t be.’ My brain scrambles for an answer.
Instead, all I’m greeted by is a singular grey feather that falls next to my shoe. It catches my attention and forces me to look away before I catch sight of something I’m not ready to see.
I want to turn my head more, to see it for myself. My mind longs for confirmation of my worst fears.
...But I don’t dare to.
Instead, I pick up the feather, feeling its soft plumage in my hands. It feels like Fang. It’s like she sent it to me, made it its mission to avert my gaze.
I hear more police sirens approaching, with another ambulance following right behind. A swarm of officers in blue approach with hastened steps; they quickly surround the crash site and cut off all angles I could use to look further.
“Let me go, you fucks!” I hear Trish’s voice again, this time pleading with the officers and teachers to be let through.
Eventually, she breaks free from their grasp, rushing up the stairs and toward the commotion with all the strength her little body can muster. There’s a desperation in her steps that causes her to almost stumble several times.
She doesn’t get far though. Her path is cut off by the dozens of police officers and paramedics on the scene. She huffs in anger and tries to push through to no avail. She screams, punches, and pleads, using every word and action she knows to try and get through.
But, just as a couple of officers are about to split off and escort her back down...
She catches sight of me.
And when she does, a newfound rage takes hold of her. Anger, hate, derision, hostility, abhorrence. No word in the English language is enough to describe the kind of expression she makes upon locking eyes with me. It’s like she found the one thing in the world that will allow her to vent her emotions.
She rushes past an officer who tries to stop her. Her eyes are locked onto mine, not letting me move an inch with her steely gaze. I can only stand there and watch as the little trigger makes a mad dash towards me.
“It’s all your fault!” With one last scream she rams straight into me, her horns piercing my skin and muscles with ease. She gores me with all her strength, her arms delivering a series of blind punches to my body as I fall down to the ground. It’s clear she intends to inflict as much harm as possible before the officers take hold of her.
I don’t even try to fight back. What’s the point? It’s not like I don’t deserve it. It’s a funny twist of fate, really. I was so afraid of her doing this to me these past couple of months. But now? I accept it with open arms.
Maybe it’s the shock. Maybe it’s the guilt. Or maybe the empty feeling in my chest, but it pushes down my self-preservation instincts and allows Trish to use me as her punching bag. Heh, it’s almost as bad as the stairs.
My vision starts to darken, and the world starts to spin. With the last of my strength, I can barely perceive a few officers and paramedics rushing towards me with startled expressions.
...
...
...
I awake to the hum of cheap LED lights. My body feels cold, extremely cold. I feel a soft sensation all around me, my body resting in some sort of bed no doubt. A rhythmic ‘beep, beep’ sound comes from my right. My eyes slowly open as a strong bout of pain radiates from my stomach, causing me to wince.
‘Where am I?’ I lie there, confused. My brain can barely process my surroundings as I look around the... hospital room? What happened? Why am I here?
“Agh, damn it.” A burst of pain breaks my attention and causes me to seize in bed. My hands involuntarily try to reach for my stomach but fail; the multiple tubes connected to them not granting me much freedom in terms of moving.
I barely manage to sit up, my apparent wounds making such a mundane action that much harder.
My eyes slowly adjust to the light, allowing me to take in my surroundings with greater clarity. I’m stuck in some dull hospital room, the heart monitor next to my bed being the only source of disturbance in the eerily quiet space.
My head, arms, and especially my stomach all hurt like a bitch. Even the smallest thoughts bring forth a splitting headache that causes my vision to become blurry. Did I get hit by a truck or something? No, that wouldn’t cause me to only have a bandaged-up stomach. Maybe I got stabbed walking through Skin Row?
Before I can ruminate on these thoughts any further, the door to my room opens. In walks a pink Allosaurus in a nurse’s outfit, reading something on a clipboard. She doesn’t seem to have noticed me though, instead robotically closing the door before going back to her notes.
“Uh, hello?” I try to get her attention.
Her head snaps in my direction, a startled expression on her face as she almost drops her clipboard in surprise. She looks at me for a few moments before her demeanor takes on a more professional tone.
“My apologies. I didn’t notice you were awake, sir.” She says, adjusting her uniform.
“It’s, it’s fine.” I accept her apology. “But... do you know where I am?” I ask one of the questions weighing on my mind.
She looks at me in confusion for a few moments before a knowing expression appears on her face. “You’re currently receiving treatment at the Volcaldera Bluffs General Hospital.”
Hospital. Yeah, I knew that. But why? Why do I have a wound on my stomach? What even happened? Dozens of questions erupt in my mind, each one fighting to be asked first. It causes my head to hurt even more, almost bringing me down into unconsciousness once again.
“How long was I out?” Yeah, one at a time. Nice and slow.
“Please allow me to call your doctor. He will be glad to answer your questions.” She rejects my question with an apologetic look, opening the door and leaving before I can get another word in.
As I’m left alone, the reality of my current situation starts to set in. Shit, how am I going to pay for all this? They might as well have left me to die. Hospital bills are not cheap last time I checked.
‘I hope Fang comes to visit.’ Hopefully she’s not too mad about what happened last, well, that night. I don’t know how long ago it was, but, judging by the feeling of weakness in my body, I think it’s fair to say I’ve been here a while.
“Fang...” A word involuntarily escapes my lips.
Why do I feel so... cold when I think of her? Sure, we didn’t leave on good terms, but it’s not like-
“Agh!” A searing pain erupts in my head at the thought. I think, I think I’m starting to remember. Bits and pieces at least. I recall Trish rushing at me in fury. A-And a crash. What happened? What the fuck happened?!
A familiar smell invades my nostrils. Blood. Wait, why blood? Why do I smell it so clearly? It feels so familiar. The sticky, almost wet, and pervasive sensation sticking to my skin. My eyes and nose burning from it.
The door to my room opens just as I’m about to remember something. I turn my head towards the entrance and see a white triceratops in a doctor’s coat walking in. He pauses at the entrance and looks at me with a frown.
“Good morning, Mr. Mous. Is everything alright?” He finally addresses me after a second of silence.
I take a second to recollect myself. “Uh, yeah? I hope so.” I answer. It’s only after a second that I come to the realization that he’s not looking me in the eyes, but instead inspecting my lap from afar.
I look down and notice that I’ve balled my hands into fists, tightly clenching the bed sheets with enough force to almost rip out several tubes out of my arms and stomach. I quickly relax them, hoping to not look too much like a weirdo. Don’t want him to put me in a loony bin over nothing.
“You can call me doctor Hill.” He introduces himself. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a million bucks.” I reply, the sarcasm evident in my voice. I feel awful. Between the sudden bursts of pain and the confusing situation, I find myself wondering how he can even think my answer would be anything different.
“Right. Well, the media has some questions for you regarding the... incident.” Hmm? Incident? What incident? “I understand if you’re not comfortable sharing your experiences just yet. The hospital will provide you with all the peace and quiet you need to properly recover from your injuries.” He starts going on and on about the various services they will provide, but my mind is focused only on the word ‘incident’. It rings a bell, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
“W-What incident, doc?” I shakily ask. There’s something in that word that causes my chest to seize in pain.
He opens his mouth to answer, frowns, and then closes it, a contemplative expression on his face.
After a minute, he simply asks. “You don’t remember?” Remember? Would I be fucking asking if I remembered? What is it that I’m missing? I feel like it’s something important—very, very important.
“No.” I take a deep breath to calm myself down. “No, I don’t.” I wish I did. But something in the back of my mind tells me that it’s better I didn’t.
“I see.” He notes something down in a small notebook he procured out of nowhere.
He walks in and closes the door behind him, checking the various machines around my bed, asking me several questions, but making sure to avoid one particular subject even when I ask. He doesn’t provide many details, choosing to stick to basic questions about my well-being. Whenever I try to bring up the ‘incident’, as he would call it, he just assures me that I will have my chance to speak to a mental health professional and that he is not qualified to give an answer.
What the fuck do I need a mental health professional for? It’s pretty clear by now that I have some sort of amnesia. Can’t a regular doctor tell me what’s going on?
“Hey, doc. Mind if I-”
CRASH*
“Where the fuck is he!?” A cry comes from the hallway beyond the room’s door, causing the words to die on my lips. I hear the sound of footsteps coming closer to my room.
“M-Miss, you shouldn’t be walking around just yet.” Another voice follows the fist, adding on another pair of footsteps that follows rapidly behind.
“Show me where he is! I need to see him.” The first voice angrily shouts. I can hear the sound of a nearby room’s door opening.
The doctor slowly makes his way to the door to check what’s going on. He opens it and takes a look outside before a white hand forcefully pushes him out of the way.
A red and white parasaur pushes herself through the door with forceful steps. She’s dressed in a hospital gown with brown slippers on her feet. One hand rests on her stomach as she limps forward. She takes a look at me, and her blue eyes widen in surprise before a smirk appears on her face.
“There you are.” She says, looking me up and down before her gaze stops on my stomach. “Looks like that bitch got you pretty good.” She starts limping towards me with slow steps.
I just sit in my bed, dumbfounded. Who the hell is this? What is she doing in my room? What the fuck does she mean by that?
Before I can process any of it, she arrives at the side of my bed and looks down at me. She leans in and puts her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. Her blonde hair brushes against my bald head. The force of her labored breaths causes her chest to rise and fall, a rapid heartbeat greeting my ears.
“You know you didn’t have to do that for me, right? I would’ve decked that slut in the face if you hadn’t stepped in front of me.” She says with a shaky voice that betrays her earlier confidence.
What?
“But still... thanks.” That last sentence is quiet enough only for me to hear.
I try to wrestle away but sorely lack the strength to do so; my lanky arms weakened even further by my injured condition. Thankfully, the doctor and the nurse come to my rescue, pulling her off of me.
“Miss, you can’t just barge into a random patient’s room like that.” The doctor says, holding one of her arms.
“The fuck I can’t!” She fights to set herself free. “He’s my boyfriend. I have a right to see him.”
What? Is this bitch fucking crazy or something?
“Oh, a-apologies then.” The doctor lets her go. She stumbles and almost falls after losing his support, but manages to catch herself on one of the metal railings on the side of my bed.
“I-I’m not-” I try to join the conversation but am quickly cut off by the nurse.
“Miss, you’re still hurt. You need to stay in your bed.” The nurse chimes in, throwing a worried look at the girl.
“I’m fucking fine.” The girl snaps back. “He took the worst of it. That bitch shot him right in the stomach.” She points to my bandaged stomach as if to prove a point.
“Wait, I got shot?” I ask, bewildered.
The doctor doesn’t answer me, instead once again checking the clipboard he’s carrying. He furrows his eyebrows and looks at me before saying. “I was under the impression that you suffered from wounds inflicted by a triceratops’ horns.” His gaze shifts between me and the clipboard. “These must be wrong then.”
“You can’t be serious. He got shot right in front of me.” The blonde girl turns towards me. “Right, Ben?”
The doctor’s head shoots back in surprise, once again looking at the clipboard before turning to me with a questioning gaze. The nurse also stops and throws a look my way, clearly hoping I can somehow defuse the situation and get the girl to calm down.
All three pairs of eyes are on me, waiting for an answer. I have none to give, however. Instead, all my thoughts are plagued by a singular question.
‘Who the fuck is Ben?’
END OF CHAPTER 1*