by C. S Luis
“Don’t you understand they would stop at nothing to get their hands on you? I can’t and won’t let that happen,” he sternly said.
He suddenly reached out and grabbed my arm, then pulled me to him. I couldn't break away as he held me tightly in his embrace and wouldn't release me.
“I’m sorry but—you don’t know the danger you’re in.” I could feel the energy of emotions flowing from his body.
“With time, I hope that you can forgive me…for what I’m about to do. But know that I did it because I care...because...” His lips brushed the side of my cheek as he held me tighter.
"It's going to be alright,” he whispered into my ear as I struggled in his arms. "There's nothing we can do for them now. But you're safe. And that's what's important. I won't let anyone hurt you. I—"
I fought him away, distancing myself from him.
"It's not true. I can save them. I know I can. There's always a way. You just don't care what happens to them or Q. Because you knew all along, and you didn't care. And now you’re trying to convince me to forget them, to forget Q. Why, Mr. Slater?"
Tears rolled down my cheeks. Mr. Slater sadly stood at distance, watching. A guilt growing in his mind as he suddenly looked up at me.
"Because—I love you," he boldly admitted.
“I’ve always loved you. I just couldn’t tell you that before.” His thoughts became a haze of images and emotions that I couldn't make sense of.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
Speechless, I stared into his bright green eyes as he slowly took a step forward. A web of emotions rolled from within him. I could feel what he felt, what emotions and love he felt for me, what desires now were emerging from within him. His dark secret was revealed, he was in love with me. It was what I had felt long before he had actually revealed it.
"And I'm not going to lose my girl—I promised you I would never let anyone hurt you. And I intend to keep my promise, because I love you."
It felt like an eternity before I could speak, and then we were interrupted.
"It's true, Miss Belle, he cares far too much," a voice said from across the hallway.
Mr. Slater pulled out his gun, darting protectively forward; he pointed it at the figure now approaching from the distant hall.
From the shadows, a man in a white suit and red tie had been watching us and now he walked towards us, wiping blood from his lip.
"Bryce?" Mr. Slater growled, clenching his teeth.
"I must give him some credit for keeping you hidden from me. To think I would have missed such a fascinating opportunity. That would have been a shame."
Mr. Slater slowly moved forward as I backed up against the wall far from both of them.
"What do you want, Bryce?" Mr. Slater snapped, pointing his gun at the man in the white suit. His suit was covered in blood.
"Das Mädchen—all I want is the girl," Mr. Nicholson answered.
"She's not part of the deal. You got what you wanted. I delivered the alien. That was the agreement." Mr. Slater declared, sliding his finger on the trigger.
"Oh, but I beg to differ, I strongly believe that she is. In fact, I think she's the missing portion of this equation. Die Quelle, the source. I want the source. She's the reason for all of this. It didn't make any sense before, but now I see the connection is undeniable," Mr. Nicholson argued, his eyes found my figure standing behind Mr. Slater.
In disbelief, I nervously looked away.
"Now let's make this as easy as possible," Mr. Nicholson said. Extending his hand, he motioned me over to him.
"Come along, Miss Belle," Mr. Nicholson invited with a grin, taking a few steps forward.
"That's close enough." Mr. Slater growled. The gun in Mr. Slater's hand clicked as his finger slightly pulled back on the trigger.
Mr. Nicholson seemed unmoved, locking his eyes on me; he glared over at Mr. Slater in annoyance.
"It's over, John, the girl will be mine. She’s what I’ve been in search of. You know that. I want her."
"Not without a fight," Mr. Slater snarled, Mr. Nicholson's laughter filled the hallway.
"Do you really think you can win, John?" He looked over at me. "Miss Belle, try to convince Mr. Slater of his irrational decision to deny me what I want. Help me, Miss Belle; help me make him understand... your undeniable importance to me. You and I both know you’re the missing piece to this puzzle."
He smiled over at me then winked. His confidence startled me and made me uneasy.
"You leave her out of this!" Mr. Slater yelled, darting the gun towards him.
"How much does Mr. Slater’s life matter to you, my darling?” I glared at him then over at Mr. Slater, unable to respond.
“Let me make this easier, Miss Belle, how much do you value your friends? Is Mr. Slater’s life worth more than theirs?" Mr. Nicholson said to me, his slim lip curved slightly. “Shall we bargain for his life? For theirs...? Come with me and I will spare him…”
"I said leave her out of this!" Mr. Slater yelled.
I came from around Mr. Slater to look at the man who had shot me, killed my friends, and taken Q away from me.
"ok…" I said.
Mr. Nicholson's eyes widened with delight.
"Claudia, you can't trust him. You can’t listen to anything he has to say." Mr. Slater insisted.
"You said it yourself, Mr. Slater—there has to be another way," I reminded him of his own words.
"But you can't make deals with this man. He can't be trusted!" Mr. Slater yelled, keeping his gun pointed directly at Mr. Nicholson.
"Nor can you be trusted, John. Can you?" Mr. Nicholson replied, then tilted his head slightly, looking over at me. "Miss Belle, I will take you to your friends if you come with me. Then you can save them…" My name coming from his lips made my skin crawl and my body shudder.
He was naturally calm and no matter what I did, I could not read his intentions or his feelings, not by a mere look or by sense. And I wondered why and how he was doing this. Mr. Slater, whose feelings and thoughts seemed so easily readable before, suddenly became undecipherable and distorted and only now had I noticed.
"Shut up!" Mr. Slater screamed, pushing the gun forward. "Claudia, don't trust him!" Mr. Slater pleaded, keeping his eyes on Mr. Nicholson.
Ignoring him, I glanced over at the other man. "You must promise not to harm Mr. Slater, if I come with you," I told Mr. Nicholson.
"Claudia, don't!" Mr. Slater screamed.
"No harm will come to him, I give you my word." Mr. Nicholson responded, glaring over at Mr. Slater acknowledging his victory.
"Claudia, what are you doing? Don't trust him!" Mr. Slater again screamed but I was no longer listening to him.
“I don’t trust him,” I harshly replied back at Mr. Slater. “But then I don’t trust you either. I have to do this.”
He looked hurt when I said those words to him. His face became filled with guilt and sadness. Even though I could no longer absorb the feeling from him as I had before, I could tell he was deeply hurt by my words. He had become that man I didn’t recognize again. A shell of the former Mr. Slater I had known a year ago. Why was he so easily defeated by my words? I hated to see him that way. Was he fighting something unseen?
“Claudia?” he again sadly called.
"That's enough, John. We are done here. Miss Belle has made her decision…" Mr. Nicholson grimaced and walked over to me. Mr. Slater made an effort to intervene but was suddenly surrounded by men in military uniforms pointing automatic weapons from every angle. Outnumbered, Mr. Slater had no choice but to give up and hand over his weapon.
Mr. Nicholson extended a hand out to me. "Shall we, Miss Belle?"
"Claudia, don't!" Mr. Slater sprung free but didn't make it far, as Mr. Nicholson's men grabbed him before he could escape.
"Take him away and make sure he's comfortable," Mr. Nicholson added.
"Claudia, no----don't trust him. Read his thoughts. You'll see that he can't be trusted." But I knew he cou
ldn't be trusted. Just as I knew I had no choice but to follow The Man in the White suit for now in order to save my friends and Q.
"Come along, Miss Belle we have a lot to discuss," Mr. Nicholson said.
"No!" Mr. Slater yelled.
"Get him out of here," Mr. Nicholson demanded. A group of men in black armor dragged Mr. Slater away.
"No! Don't you dare hurt her! You bastard!" Mr. Slater's cries slowly faded as he was led from the hallway and down the staircase and I was left alone with Mr. Nicholson.
I slowly moved over to Mr. Nicholson as he grimaced at me, and began following beside him when he motioned me forward in the other direction. Only now looking back slightly as Mr. Slater's cries faded behind us.
"Don't concern yourself with John, Miss Belle. He will come to no harm." Mr. Nicholson offered as I looked over at him, finding those icy blue eyes bearing down upon me.
I nodded at his words, looking back, hearing the fading sounds of Mr. Slater’s screams behind us.
Mr. Nicholson pulled me near, putting a hand on my shoulder as we walked down the hallway towards the auditorium. Ahead, men in black armor guarded the stairwell and entrance to the auditorium doors. Mr. Nicholson led me down the stairs and finally passed the entrance where the men in armor were standing guard.
We entered the auditorium; it was dark, except for the stage.
"Project X—although I believe you refer to him as Quentin—correct?" Mr. Nicholson and I stopped a few steps from the entrance, and he pointed to the stage where a large metal container sat and revealed a pale figure within the window.
"Q!" I immediately raced towards the stage, but three men in black armor blocked my way, drawing their weapons. Backing away, I glanced back at Mr. Nicholson when the men didn't change their positions.
"Allow her through," Mr. Nicholson ordered the men. At once, they lowered their weapons and slowly moved away. Mr. Nicholson casually came to stand behind me. I felt him just a few steps behind as I looked up to the stage with anticipation. Eager to free Q from the metal container but afraid to move to him with Mr. Nicholson standing so close by.
"Your friends are there,” Mr. Nicholson said to me. I didn’t understand right away what he meant by that.
I leaped onto the stage, landing in front of the metal box that held Q. Mr. Nicholson joined me on the stage as I took a step closer to the container, and touched the window.
"Q," I whispered. Encased in a tomb, but alive, he seemed asleep.
"He's dreaming," Mr. Nicholson simply said standing behind me. It was true, I could see the lines on Q's face reveal a glimpse of activity. He was in there, drifting from a world he knew into another that was parallel to this reality. And he couldn't distinguish from the two nor could he escape. What did he dream of?
"He's dreaming of you," Mr. Nicholson said as if he had read my thoughts. "You are the connection to all this, the source. Your link to him is undeniable and what I’ve been in search of for a long time. That's why I need you." His cold hand touched the side of my cheek when I turned to glance back at him, finding him frighteningly closer than before. I turned my face, pulling away from his hand.
“Need me?” First Q’s obsession with me and now Mr. Nicholson. I didn’t understand it and it frightened me.
“You’re far more valuable than you realize,” he offered again.
"I refuse to help you with anything," I firmly voiced.
Mr. Nicholson grabbed my arm suddenly and leaned forward, "You will if you don’t want anything to happen to John." Mr. Nicholson scowled.
I freed myself from him and stumbled backward. And that’s when I noticed them—behind the container in a line on the stage, wrapped in black body bags, were my friends, their cold dead faces, unveiled to my eyes. I held back a scream, putting a hand to my mouth as a sob broke through my whimpering lips.
"What have you done to them?" I wept as I stumbled back onto the figure of Mr. Nicholson who grabbed hold of me and spun me around to face him; tears traced the side of my cheek.
"I had nothing to do with this," Mr. Nicholson softly said to me, putting a gentle hand on my wet cheek, wiping at the tears racing down my face in an attempt to comfort me.
"I give you my word." Did he expect me to believe him? After all, he had shot me without as much as a thought.
"But you can bring them back," he grinned, stroking my face with his large hand.
"Just as you brought yourself back." I pulled away at his touch, turning my face sideways.
"I can't do that. Only Q can bring them back. I need him. Without him—they're lost." I said as he let me go unable to look at him, unable to stop crying.
I took a step over to the container holding Q but Mr. Nicholson blocked me. It frightened me as he simply stood before me. His towering form a monstrous luminous figure above me. Like a ghostly figure, calm and emotionless he stood, the black silk shirt he wore enhanced those fearless and so cold clear blue eyes.
His blond hair looked more like a veil of white strands and his brow seemed to disappear, blending into his colorless face. He looked like his face had been washed by light. It was these features that made him a far more frightening figure. About the only color visible was the red tie he wore and it only accented his already ghostly complexion.
In others, I could see curiosity, perhaps even an emotion, but in him, I only saw emptiness and solitude. His thoughts non-existent. Other than a curve of the lip here and there, a glimmer of a smile, cruel in nature.
"I need Q. I can't do this without him. I must connect with him. Please, you have to let me save them." I pleaded with Mr. Nicholson whose expression seemed unchanged no matter what I said.
If I could connect, there still might be a chance. This could be another way to save them. I would try anything before it was too late.
"If I allow you this, will you come with me willingly?”
I hesitated, looking into his cold blue eyes. Even without his thoughts to guide me, I could see malice in his stare. He held no care in his heart.
I slowly nodded; realizing that perhaps if I agreed and succeed in connecting with Q, I wouldn’t have to help him, once Q was free.
“Yes,” I whispered, staring over at him as a smile spread over his ghostly face.
“Come along, then—We have a procedure for this," Mr. Nicholson said as I looked over at the container that held Q.
"What kind of procedure?" I curiously asked, wrinkling a brow over at him.
"You just do as I say and everything will be fine." Mr. Nicholson grinned, leading the way.
I glanced back at the bodies of my friends laying motionlessly on the stage, they appeared to be at peace and I knew Death had kept his appointment. That only meant it would be a great struggle and fight to get them back, and for that, I needed Q. I knew I had no choice but to obey Mr. Nicholson, for now.
38
Old Friends Quentin
He realized he was in the hallways of Milton High again. The smell of pencil shavings and bubble gum was soaking the air. He was home now but there was one thing missing.
"Q!" a cry came from the other end and he turned and spotted her. As she came, she wrapped her arms around him and tightly held him in her embrace.
"I thought I had lost you," Q said as Claudia smiled at him.
"You'll never lose me, Q." But as he looked at her, she started to disappear and her image began to melt into the floor of the school and dissolve into the cracks, like ink washing away.
"What's happening?" Dr. Klein asked, looking over at the monitor, then over at the container holding the alien.
"I don't know, sir," a young assistant in a white lab coat said.
Dr. Klein moved over to the container.
"Do something, damn it. We're losing him!"
An alarm sounded, followed by a flash of lights all around them.
Quentin knelt on the floor, hoping to gather her back up, hoping to hang onto her pieces but it was of no use. She was gone.
He began poun
ding his fists onto the floor; digging into parts of the marble to try to get what was once her. From above, he heard laughter and immediately rose looking every which way for the sounds that were now coming from every direction.
"You promised! We had a deal!" he yelled to the unseen. "We had a deal!"
He lifted his hand into the air, revealing a cursed marking in the center of his palm. He flashed it up towards the laughter in the hope its visible mark would be acknowledged by the source.
"These readings are not normal. What did you do?"
"I simply added more images. That's what we've been using. I don't know what went wrong."
Bryce entered the classroom that had been set up and arranged as laboratory headquarters, Claudia was with him. Now that he had the girl, it was time to continue working on his experiments. He planned to move the alien and his source to better accommodations once they were ready.
"What's the problem, Dr. Klein?" Bryce demanded; the two men in lab coats appeared unsure and confused.
"The beast is out of control. Something has gone wrong."
39
Source
The container holding Q started to show signs of cracking. I smiled with relief; perhaps they wouldn't be able to contain him any longer and I wouldn't have to do what they asked.
"It seems we are losing control a lot sooner than I had anticipated," Dr. Klein revealed.
“We need to move him to a more secure facility; at least one of the trailers would be a better holding area. They’re better equipped, so he can be better contained, this thing isn’t going to hold him for long.” The man called Dr. Klein said.
Mr. Nicholson grabbed my arm, pulling me beside him. He held my face up for Dr. Klein to see.
"No need—She’s the complete part of the equation. He will no longer be necessary.” He simply put it.
‘Not necessary?’ I thought. ‘Wait, what do they plan to do with Q?’