silentlystrong (silentlystrong) wrote in the_dome, @ 2014-01-05 17:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | #group-scene, 04-18-2017, mickey, violet, zania |
It's Over
Who: Mickey, Zania, Violet
Where: Where Mickey’s being held
When: night 04-18-2017
Warnings Violence
Mickey kept flitting in and out of consciousness. It was hard to stay awake, between fear and exhaustion. There had been more cutting, more spots on his body burned from her shallow cuts that burned as they healed. His shirt was off, he was still tied to the bed, blood still on his skin. Some moments he wanted to break free, others he just hoped he died. It was a terrible place to be in, waiting for something to happen that wasn’t Violet and her constant torture.
Zania had started going door to door. Her real problem was not being able to enter them, but unless she saw something of interest then that didn’t really come up. Slowly she circled Violet’s house, listening to who was inside, taking a deep breath to inhale the scent. It was the first time she caught the scent of Mickey in days and she wasn’t about to leave without knowing if he was there. Stopping by the window, she turned the axe over in her hand and broke it through the glass. It was a test, of course, to see who would come running or would would yell for help.
No one came right away. But Mickey heard it, jerking him out of his stupor. He struggled, looking for Violet, but realizing the noise came from somewhere else. He turned his head as best he could, trying to see the window that he thought the noise came from. He didn’t yell, not yet. Not if it brought her and her beast back.
There was no response, which didn’t really help her, but she supposed it was better than the owner running out and asking why she was breaking windows. “Mickey?” she called out, not too loud, but loud enough that he would hear her if he was in that room. If not, she’d go to the next.
First he cringed, not sure he wanted to hear his name. His mind went to Violet, but it wasn’t her. That wasn’t her voice. “Yes!” His voice was croaked, barely there and hoarse, but there. He knew what voice. Who was it? December? No, no there would be no doubt if it was her. “Zan?”
“Mickey!” she said, then proceeded to smash the rest of the window with her axe. She needed to see him, needed to get inside, yet she couldn’t and it was the most frustrating thing in the world. “I’m going to get you out. Just-- Just be patient with me while I figure out how to get in.” Even if she had to chop down the house, she’d do it.
“Can I let you in?” he asked, struggling against the bonds, but they were tied tight. The struggle reopened new scabs, his wounds seeping fresh blood. “Get in here and untie me.”
“I don’t know. You can try?” Zania said, reaching in and pulling the curtains down from the inside. It gave her a view into the room, where she could see Mickey tied to the bed. “Shit. Who has you? What am I up against?” she asked, pulling out her knife so she could cut the ropes. She might not be able to enter the house, but she seemed to be able to reach in.
“You can come in,” Mickey tried, hoping that would help. He could use some back up. “A crazy girl and a bison.” He didn’t want to talk about more. About the way his own blood was smeared across his skin, or the word carved into his arm.
Zania tried to enter, but found that his invitation didn’t help. It was frustrating to finally find someone, then not be able to get to them. “A bison?” she asked, pushing herself in the window as far as she could. While she could get her arm in, her body refused to move past the frame. Fortunately, Mickey wasn’t far from the window, so she began to cut through the tie she could reach. “You look like shit,” she muttered, worried about the sight he made. She would have to see to that, once he was free.
“Yeah,” Mickey answered since that was what Violet’s counterpart was. A giant monster of a human being who was abnormally strong. When Zania reached for his ties he flinched, though wished she’d swing the axe and just hope not to hit his arm and chop his hand off. “M’fine,” he said, though he had a feeling once he got free he really wouldn’t be fine.
She cut through the ties on one hand as fast as she could, then handed him the knife. He would have to do the other hand himself. “You’re not fine. You look like me when they took Clementine. I’ll give you some blood when we’re clear.” And she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Mickey hid the wince of pain as he moved his arm from a position it’d been in for more than a day. His muscles were stiff and protesting, but he managed to get the knife in his free hand and work at cutting the ties of the other. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “I don’t need it.”
“Yeah, right,” Zania said, rolling her eyes. She didn’t want to argue with him, but it hurt a little that he’d so easily turn down her help when she was literally cutting him free from a bed. He was bruised almost all over his face and she could tell that was blood smeared on his skin. She got that he wanted to be strong, but she thought they were close enough he’d know it wasn’t always necessary.
Being tied up and at Violet’s mercy had done a number on Mickey’s head. He didn’t want to be weak no matter who it was. He’d protest to anyone that he was fine, not just Zania. The tie on his other arm finally broke free and he was able to sit up properly with a groan and start to make work on his feet. “Is December alright?” he asked, remembering the fear that Violet had tried to put in him.
“She’s fine,” Zania said, settling in to watch him free himself. Maybe it should have been December there, saving him. She could have just stopped and called her, let her come instead. She would have been able to get in the house, where Zania couldn’t. “She’s been running point from the morgue.”
Mickey let out a sigh of relief. He’d been sure Violet had lied. “Good. She should be.” Better than her out there getting caught and killed. It took a moment to break the binds at his feet but then he was free, handing Zania back her knife.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the knife and sticking it in her belt. “So, are we gonna kill this bitch and her cow?” Because now she needed someone to take her anger out on. If not, she needed to start searching for someone who actually cared.
“No, thank you.” She was the one who showed up and broke him loose. He pushed himself to the edge of the bed, every inch of him screaming with pain, but he ignored and worked his way to his feet. He was unsteady, not sure when the last time he ate was, but after a second he got his footing back. “Yes. Yes we are.” His eyes were on Violet’s bag of knives and sharp things, headed that way to root through it and find something to take her out with.
“You sure you don’t want a little blood?” she asked quietly, still watching him from the window. It annoyed her that she couldn’t come in. It annoyed her that his first line of questioning was about December. But most of all it annoyed him that she could help heal him and he wouldn’t let her. If Mickey was going to go up against anyone, he needed to be in better shape to do so. Either that, or he needed to get the bitch or the bison outside where she could help properly.
His limp was bad as he moved across the room, practically dragging his leg with him for some steps. But what mattered was that he got to the bag, finding a sharp double sided dagger and a hunting knife he’d seen her use on him. Perfect. “I want this to be over.” He needed it to be over. Then he could deal with everything else.
“Awesome,” Zania said, leaning against the window frame. “Can I have the big guy? Though, I should point out that you need to get ‘em outside or I’m absolutely useless. I don’t think they’re going to invite me in.” Then again, she didn’t think they were home. Maybe she should go around to the front door and wait.
Mickey tucked the hunting knife away. He’d use that later. “I was hoping you would. I’ll help, but the girl is mine.” He was going to kill her. Something in him was screaming that was wrong. He didn’t kill humans. Zombies, monsters, giant wolves, probably evil vampires. But little girls who were just insane. He didn’t kill them. She was probably the same age Rose would be. Or his other sister. Mickey couldn’t think on that right now. He’d falter. Heading back to the bed he sat on it, taking a deep breath. “Stay out of sight,” he told Zania. “When he comes, I’m coming through that window and he’ll follow.”
“Sure thing, Mickey,” Zania grinned, madness in her eyes. He didn’t know it, but she needed this. She needed someone to pay for these kidnappings, for taking him, Clementine, Kenzie, and so many others. If the girls were in half as bad a shape as Mickey, she hoped they’d survived. Kenzie, she thought was strong, but Clem… Zania was truly worried about her. Zania moved beside the window, hidden from sight. “Ready when you are.”
Mickey caught that look, not sure what to make of it, but he didn’t have time to think about it. He might wonder about the look in his own eyes. He didn’t want to do it, but after a moment he lay back on the bed, stretching out his arms and legs the way they’d been. He closed his eyes, wishing Zania wasn’t here for this, but he needed her. One arm gripped the dagger, out of sight, but still in his hand. “Violet!” he called out. She was here. He knew she was here. The second time it was louder. “Violet, baby! I need you!”
Violet had had her headphones on and was dancing to the Jonas Brothers in her room so she hadn't heard anyone breaking glass. Hadn't heard a thing. Simon had though and he was already on his way around the outside of the house to get a drop on whoever was trying shit. When Violet took off her headphones she thought she heard something, someone calling her name. Then she heard it again and a slow smile spread across her lips. He had called her baby. Maybe he was finally coming around. She was pleased and went skipping off into the room to see Mickey. "I'm here. What's the matter, lover?" she asked, her tone syrupy sweet as she climbed up beside him. She was wearing another one of her hideous and inappropriately revealing dresses, feeling very sexual now that she understood how things worked.
He waited until she was next to him, until she was so close. He didn’t want it. He wanted to attack, but he had to get her there, close enough to reach. Another stupid dress, another stupid word she didn’t understand. “I needed you. Here. Closer love.” It made his stomach turn but he had to focus, focus on what came next.
Zania stood outside, making faces at the things Mickey was saying. It wasn’t the words themselves, but the fact that he had to say them to her. Zania didn’t think she could have done it. She would have been hunting the bitch down, but she knew this way he could take her by surprise. What she didn’t expect was the beast to come around the outside of the house, looking for trouble. When she saw him, she put on her best face of surprise and backed away from the window, putting her finger to her lips as if asking him to be quiet.
Violet felt a flutter in her tummy at being called his love. She was so focused on him that she didn't even notice he was no longer tied up. She slid closer to him, pushing her skirt away from her legs so she could scoot down and snuggle in against him. She didn't quite get all the way there though, pausing on one elbow to look at him. "Why did you need me? What can I do?" she asked.
Simon caught sight of Zan immediately, his brow furrowing when she asked him to be quiet with her finger. "Oy, what are you doing?" he asked being quiet for some reason he didn't understand. He was so used to taking orders from Violet apparently that any little girl with a pretty face had his allegiance. For the moment at least.
Mickey spun the dagger in his hand, moving quicker than he thought he could. “You can scream,” he told her, eyes dead serious, a darkness in their blue that shouldn’t have been there. Then he attacked, arm free and moving, stabbing the dagger into her middle. It would hurt. It would bleed. That was what he wanted. He’d hate himself for it later.
Zania almost laughed at the fact that Simon complied to her request, but was able to keep her mouth shut, beckoning him closer. She was waiting for Mickey to make the first move, waiting for the scent of blood to permeate the air. It came only seconds later, then Zania slid the axe out from behind her back, giving him a fanged grin before she moved so fast he would’ve never had time to react. One second the axe was in her hand, the next it was buried deep in his neck. If she’d been any stronger, she’d have taken his head clean off.
Violet barely had a moment to realize what was happening when he pulled the dagger out of seemingly nowhere. Her eyes bulged and she opened her mouth, trying to scramble backward off the bed. "No," she whimpered because when he'd moved her dress had caught and she couldn't get away. Cold, hard pain exploded in her gut and she shrieked, looking down at herself. "Noooo," she squealed as she saw the blood and began to feel like vomiting. The edges of her vision were getting blurry and dark but irrationally her fingernails were going toward the cuts in his side, wanting to make him hurt too.
Simon came closer as instructed but his eyes whipped wildly toward the window when he heard Violet scream. He was moving, or at least, he had tried to move, but something stopped him. There was nothing else because she'd successfully disconnected the messages from the brain going to his body which simply slumped down to its knees and then crumpled away from her.
Her fingers hit the mark, earning her a grunt of pain from Mickey, but it didn’t stop him from twisting the knife more, pushing harder with a coldness seeping through him. Awful things. He was damned. Damned in this moment. If there was a God, his soul was headed for hell. But he didn’t care. She deserved it. “I’m not yours.”
As soon as Simon went down, Zania was on him, sinking her teeth into his flesh and drinking as much as she wanted. This week had done a number on her and she could use a little extra, especially from someone who wouldn’t notice it missing. It was one of the few time she could drink without reason to stop, though she kept an ear out for what was going on inside. If Mickey needed her, she’d toss an axe through the window if she had to.
Violet's mouth opened but nothing came out when he twisted the knife. She could feel the warmth of blood all down the front of her but she barely registered it. She made a gurgling, sick sound in the back of her throat and closed her eyes. She fell backward onto the floor beside the bed with a loud snap, her neck breaking from the angle at which it hit and her body following partially after. She might have been dead before she hit the ground but she was certainly dead now. She lay perfectly still. As still as Simon outside who had no knowledge of what was happening to his empty shell of a body. The two had been inseparable for years and it seemed, even in death, they were together. Violet would have thought that rather romantic.
Mickey pulled away when he heard her neck snap, breath coming in ragged, struggling gasps. He couldn’t handle this. Not right now. He had her blood all over his hands. All over him. It had stained the sheets he was laying on, wet and sticky against him. He had to move. The dagger was still in her he’d let go as she fell, though he didn’t remember it. Scrambling back he stared at what he’d done in horror. She was dead. Finally. He was free. He could have used the door, but the window was closer and he didn’t have to go over her to get out of it. He scraped his skin on the broken glass, but fell through it, landing hard on his good leg. “Go. We need go. Get me out of here.” He could barely choke out the words, but the fresh air and grass were a godsend. Free. Finally.
As Mickey fell out the window, Zania rose to her feet, letting the body fall to the ground. She wiped her arm across her mouth, cleaning away some of the blood, then grabbed her axe. “Let’s go,” she said, looking him over. He needed some of her blood, but she was willing to let him put some distance between himself and the horror of the house. “You okay physically?” she asked, walking beside him, just in case he needed help.
He couldn’t look at her with the blood on her face. Not right now. There was too much blood already. Flashes of Violet rubbing it against her chest, of it staining her dress as she died, they were powerful, but he pushed forward, walking slowly, but walking. “I’ll live, but we should get to the hospital.” He needed to be patched up. His breathing still wasn’t right, but he was moving. “Thank you. For that.” He’d have to repay her better, when he could focus, but right now that was the best he could do.
“You won’t let me heal you?” she asked, her lips tight. Micah was a good doctor, but he couldn’t do what she could do. And after draining Simon, she was plenty strong enough to offer. “You’re welcome. It’s nice to finally find someone.” There were others missing, but the fact that Mickey was alive gave her hope for the others.
Mickey shook his head. “No…no more blood. I can’t...no.” He pressed his palm against his forehead only to feel the tackiness of Violet’s drying blood. “I’m sorry. I just...not right now.” He looked back at her, swallowing hard. “Maggie? Have you heard anything?”
She gave a little nod, having to remind herself that not everyone saw blood the way she now did. For her, it was life. For him, it was death. “It’s okay. Just… if you want it later, just ask.” He’d been willing to give her blood when she needed it; she would do the same. “I think she’s still missing. So is Clem, Kenzie, and a couple of the O’Reilly’s. And some kid. I need to check in with December and see if anyone’s made progress. Speaking of.” She pulled out her phone, realizing that she really needed to let December know that Mickey was alive.
Mickey frowned. There were too many. And he wasn’t in any shape to help. “Don’t bother with me if you need to keep looking. You’ve already done more for me than I could muster myself. I can get to the hospital on my own.” He looked at her when she pulled out her phone, feeling an ache in him to see the other woman, but not mentioning it. Not to Zania. Barely to himself. December was upset with him, though in his current state having spent more than one hour in the time Violet had him, wishing for death, he was ready to give her whatever she wanted to fix what broke between them. “I can tell her myself. When I get there. Go...help others. Do what I can’t.”
“If you think I’m leaving your side before you walk through those hospital doors, you’re out of your mind,” Zania said, looking up from her phone. “You’re the first person I’ve actually found, which is the problem we’re having. Finding people. There’s more of us looking now, so maybe we’ll make progress, but I can spare the time to see you get to the hospital.” She put the phone back in her pocket, but if he thought she wasn’t going to give December some warning, he was crazy. She’d just wait till they parted ways, then send the other girl a text. “I didn’t go inside, so I just want to ask. You were the only one there, right?”
Mickey nodded, not fighting her on walking him. He knew better. He hated that he knew where he was in the dome. He’d been out this way more than once for work. It was too jarring to think he’d been so close and yet so far at the same time. “Just me. She wanted a boyfriend.” He winced when he said it, but powered through the thought. “She didn’t have an interest in anyone else. She was with me too much.”
“That’s… fucked up,” she said, looking up at Mickey, then forward again. He didn’t look good, but she had the feeling this girl had messed with his head even worse than his body. She let them walk in silence, not sure what else to say. Making a pie wouldn’t fix things this time, nor would giving him a hug, though she’d probably do both, just in case.
“Mm,” Mickey agreed, but didn’t say anything else. He was shutting down, going quiet. It was taking more energy than he would have liked to put one foot in front of the other and right this second that was all he could focus on. “It’s over.”
Zania nodded, but she didn’t quite agree. It was over for him, but for so many others it was still happening. They were still trapped, being tortured or were already dead, and no one knew. While she was glad Mickey was safe, she wouldn’t stop after she dropped him off. There were more people to find and she wouldn’t rest until they were back home.