What were the symptoms? “Muscle relaxation, problems with vision, disorientation, dizziness and confusion?” Nowhere on that list is “lying down and taking it.” The drug may be taking effect on his body, leaving Victor feeling rather weak and dizzy, but it doesn’t seem to have had any effect on his rage. “You’re going to Hell,” he growls, using his anger as crutch to force his muscles to move. It’s an arduous process, especially when the world seems to be spinning, but he’s able to pull himself away slightly.
Drew chuckled, noting,
"You really are quite hard-headed, aren’t you?"
He put one hand on his chest and pushed him down, using his free hand to teasingly tug at his shirt.Believe what you will, but he knew about what happened to Victor. Him and Bumby had a plan for Victor to be sold off to him and he’d simply sell him off to another; It was how things worked. Although, he wouldn’t just give him up immediately; He’d want to play with his new toy first~.
“Never,” Victor growls, barely noticing the pain his wrist or back. “You’re mine.” He’s too blinded by rage to think clearly — all he wants is to see this man die beneath his hands. (This is what comes of trying to repress all your bad feelings for who knows how long, kids!) He grabs Drew’s hands and bends back the fingers, intending to break them.
Drew only had to endure the pain for a while longer until Victor’s time is up. Once his grip had loosened, he shook his hand, trying to rid the pain. He also tenderly rubbed his neck, dully noting he’d be left with bruises. He didn’t care now; He’d gotten his prey.
"Anything you want to say, young man?" He asked, his voice suddenly softer, and the name he called him no longer taunting.
Victor lets out a cry of pain as the needle goes into his neck. He’s never heard the term “date rape drug” before, but it’s pretty easy to guess at what he means. For a moment, terror overwhelms him. Oh God oh God I’m going to get raped he’s going to do what Bumby couldn’t oh God —
And then, there’s that internal scream of rage. The one that signals rational thought has completely left the building. It’ll take a bit for the drug to work, and Victor intends to use every second of that time. He lunges upward, fastening his hands around Drew’s throat and squeezing as hard as he can.
He may not have changed, like he did in Wonderland — but we’re definitely dealing with Hysteria Victor here.
Drew winced and squeezed one of Victor’s wrists with a painfully tight grasp. Air wasn’t the problem; He could hold his breath for a fair amount of time. It was the pain of his fingers digging into his neck and throat. He tried to jerk back and out of his hold, angered.
"Let… go…" He choked.
In a final effort for him to release the man, he grabbed the front of his clothes, lifted him slightly and slammed him back on the ground with intent to harm.
Pierces wrapped her in a hug. “Pl-please don’t cry. You ha-haven’t done anything wrong. No-nothing at all.”
Alia held onto him tightly, sobbing into his chest. It took her a little while for her crying to subside to small hiccups. She was still curled up against him, not wanting to leave the comfort of his embrace.
“I don’t need to guess,” Victor says. For some odd reason, he’s staying remarkably calm. It’s like he’s somehow managed to shut off the part that normally makes him stammer and stumble and worry about everything. “I believe I know. Or if it’s not the substance I think, it’s something equally toxic.” His eyes narrow. “And you may be bigger and stronger, but that doesn’t make you invincible.”
Case in point? Back into your groin goes Victor’s knee.
The man tensed and shuddered in pain but, before Victor could try anything else, he stabbed the needle into the side of his neck, forcing the liquid into his system.
"I’d love to say yes, but I’m loving saying no; how about guessing a ‘date rape drug’? something along the lines of Rohypnol~."
He smirked at the man under him, going over the symptoms in his head,
'Muscle relaxation, problems with vision, disorientation, dizziness and confusion.'
Victor’s response is to slam the pipe onto Drew’s head, as hard as he can. The ringing headache should show him what good a pipe can do. Of course, Victor knows it’s not the most efficient method for killing, so once Drew’s sufficiently dazed, he’s going for the gun.
That’s part of the reason Victor wants to see him dead, yes. And he’s definitely not letting that happen to him again.
The man let out a whine of pain, shutting his eyes tightly. This guy was serious now, he could tell. Giving a grunt of effort, he threw him off, taking his turn to pin Victor.
"I’m bigger than you, stronger than you." He reminded with a growl.
He took out an injection from his pocket and took the protector off it with his teeth, waving it in from of his face tauntingly.
“You did,” Victor said. “I was a f-fool not to listen.” Back then, he hadn’t wanted to actually kill anyone in the real world. Alice was made of sterner stuff than him, he felt — she could kill someone who deserved it and not be wracked with guilt. Victor was certain he couldn’t. But now…now his heart’s gotten colder. Seeing how awful the world can be has changed him a lot.
The instant Drew starts running, so does Victor. And however fast Drew is, Victor’s got a) a lot more experience at running and b) much longer legs. He jumps as he catches up with the man, tackling him hard to the ground.
Drew let out a surprised grunt as he was suddenly on the ground.
"Get off, stupid boy!" He shouted angrily, then smirks to himself, "Besides, how are you going to kill me? You’ve only a pipe and what good owuld that do, hm?"
This boy did have strong willpower; Maybe, instead of killing him, he could break him down, just like Alia. Drew had the same idea as Bumby did; To break down their prey and sell them. It was whatever brought adoptive man pleasure and a great sum of money.
The mouse was starting to relax. It was nice here. And safe.
Alia gently tugged on his sleeve and pulled him over to a corner that was shadowed, but still able to see through. She sat own in the area of soft blankets and pillows, hugging a stuffed tiger. She patted the ground beside her.
The area was fairly big, dry and comfortable. She slept here, after all. Sometimes with any others who were willing. She wanted him to rest here too.
Victor steps backward, hands still on the pipe and eyes narrowed. “About the same as it did when I discovered that my old psychiatrist was using his orphanage and asylum as a front for making child p-prostitutes,” he says, voice cold as ice. “People like you and him m-make me doubt the existence of God. How could any kind and loving creator allow people like you on this earth?” He starts walking slowly in a circle around Drew. “I s-should have killed you the first day I m-met you.”
"Indeed," Drew agreed, keeping his eyes on the other, "And did I not tell you to do it?"
Glancing over, he saw the glow of light from the main den. He was still for a few moments, his featured betraying nothing, until he made a quick run. He had the intent to carve her body and dump it in the water, so no one knew anything. He’d do the same to Victor when he was done.
Victor starts a little upon hearing the pipe, then looks down and sees it lying not far away. He looks up to see the kitten, nods gratefully, then goes and retrieves it. He then moves quietly up behind Drew, clutching his new weapon. He knows he’ll probably only get one shot at this, so he has to make it count. Once he’s close enough, he lifts the pipe and swings with all his might.
Drew had raised his arm to block the attack. It was a powerful one, so it left his arm red and aching, but he’d heard the ‘swish’ it made as it had swung through the air. He pushed it away and turned to face him, chuckling in dark amusement.
"How did I know it’d be you?" he mused.
He abruptly pointed the gun at him, flicking the safety trigger.
"How does if feel, huh? To find your ‘little sister’ in an old house; To find out I’d raped a young, fragile girl and left her to die a slow, painful, humiliating death. How does that feel, ‘Big Brother’~?"
Victor hears it too. Slowly, he looks down, toward the voice. Then, equally slowly, he gently picks up the kit and puts it aside. “Stay here,” he says, voice low.
He swings himself over and climbs back down to the alley, then slides into the shadows to watch what Drew’s up to. And to look for anything that might serve as a weapon.
The kit mewled as it was lifted and told to stay. She watched as Victor walked in the dark, thinking on how to help. It spotted a loose, unused pipe and leaped at it. Hooking it’s arms around it so not to fall, the light kitten scrambled up and to the sturdy end of it. After a bit of hitting and jumping back and forth, the pipe fell. It’s noise was loud enough to alert Victor of it’s presence.
Drew looked up and around at hearing the pipe, but didn’t see anything. He tried to find his way through the alleys again, but it was taking him a while; He didn’t know the way, since he was never shown. He continued to gently squeeze his new gun, making sure it was still there.
Victor looks down at the scar, then back up at the sky. Very softly, he says, “I could have k-killed him that day. I could have s-stopped him for good, r-rather than trusting in jail cells.” Like the reason Alice pushed Bumby in front of that train — you can’t trust regular justice. It doesn’t do you any good in the end.
He rubs the kitten’s back, still staring upward. “I don’t like it either,” he says, voice still soft. “I d-don’t think anyone likes it. I’ll — I’ll m-make sure you’re all all right. And that she g-gets a — a p-proper burial.”
The kit was about to speak again, but a male voice interupted. From the ground, Alia’s foster father was grumbing,
"Fucking slut must’ve crawled back here like the little worm she is. Pathetic… making that much harder to dump the body…"
The feline’s fur spiked up and it spat in fury, drawing it’s claws.
“He dare come here after killing Alia?!" I hissed.
[ The air was filled with meowing, from all sorts of different cats. ]
“It sounds like there are quite a lot of kitties here. Just how many are there…?”
[ A kitten nudged his hand with its head. He began petting the tiny, soft animal immediately. It reminded him of Digi; whom of which was staying at his house until Hongou was well again. ]
The kitten loved the petting, but then it backed away and pawed at his hand, jumping and running away, then back. The kittens got playful and ran off to catch something, roughhousing along the way. Alia laughed lightly, looking over the sunny den.
"I-I dunno… all-all the s-stray cats l-live here… E-even some th-that’ve come h-here from out-out of th-the country..!" she said, smiling happily.
Some cats did find themselves stuck in a train, or being caught and dragged along to the city. They all managed to find this safe haven and earned their rightful place, every one watched over by Alia.
[ The den… What a strange name. Well, if it does turn out to be some sort of trap, I know full well how to defend myself. ]
Alia smiled happily and took his hand with a light touch. She led his through the alleys and under a large pipe until they were in the den of cats. Kittens playing, elders telling stories, warriors going about their duties.
The group of kits came running over to them, mewling and sniffing at the new arrival.
Alia struggles to follow a cream-colored tom as she ran through the streets. He’s wanted to show her something, but she didn’t know what. Not paying attention, she bumped into someone, letting out a small yip. She backed away a little and whimpered,
[ Light stumbled a bit and took a single step back. He turned in the direction of the voice. Young, female… ]
“Are you all right, miss?”
Alia hummed a shaky ‘yes’, daring to glance up at him. She was a little confused as to why hiw eyes were closed; How could he see like that?
"I-I’m so, so s-sorry, s-sir… It-it won’t h-happen again…"
She nervously wrung her hands, hoping he wouldn’t get angry and hit her. Why was she always screwing up..?
Alia struggles to follow a cream-colored tom as she ran through the streets. He’s wanted to show her something, but she didn’t know what. Not paying attention, she bumped into someone, letting out a small yip. She backed away a little and whimpered,
Victor takes the leaves, and after a moment gets the idea that he’s supposed to eat them. He’s quite glad that they taste better than some of the other concoctions he’s tasted. He follows the young kitten’s gaze as he chews.
Then he can’t help a start, because he wasn’t expecting to talk to the cat. After he recovers, though, he nods. “Yes, that’s a-about right.” He sighs deeply and puts his hand on the cat’s back. “I wish I c-could have helped her.”
"You’ve met her father; What could you’ve done? Remember here?"
The kitten pushed his clothes up with it’s paw, revealing the scar left by the extremely close encounter with that bullet. The soft-furred kitten gently licked his hand and climbed up to curl up in his lap, closing it’s eyes.
Victor’s baffled by the kitten’s behavior. What is it doing? “What are you up to?” he whispers, following it up. He feels odd, leaving Alia’s side, but she has the older cats to watch over her. And besides, they probably want to be alone right now. “What is that?”
The kitten mewled and gently nudged the leaves closer to him. They were sweet and easy to eat, unlike most of the other plants Swiftweed has. they were those same plants that helped him talk to cats. The kit wanted to talk with him.
It looked up at the sky; It looked like it was about to rain. The first thing the small critter would say as soon as he’d taken the herbs would be,
"It looks like the sky’s crying. They’re sad Alia’s gone. Right, Mr. Victor?" It’s voice was young and a little shy, the kit smaller than others it’s age.
Victor holds the kitten gently but tightly, not wanting anything to happen to it. He does notice the similarities to Alia — how peculiar. But oddly touching. He holds it close, gently rubbing its fur, as he joins in the silence. He thinks about trying to reassure them, telling them that he knows where she’s gone and that it’s a good place overall…but no, it’s not time for those words yet. Right now, it’s time for silence.
Any of the cats who didn’t know her too well, or if they were kittens or apprentices, they backed off, letting older warriors and elders stay by her side for now.
The kitten roused from it slumber, looking around. It suddenly jumped out of Victor’s hands and sneaked into the medicine cat’s ‘den’. It quickly returned with a specific type of plant and scrabbled up to the roof. It mewed quietly, looking down at him, wanting Victor to follow.
Victor winces, the tears coming back full force as the cats yowl their shock and grief. “I’m s-so sorry for you all,” he whispers, kneeling down beside her body. “I — I f-found her too late…”
It’s the feeling of the little kitten’s head in his hand that does it. He picks it up and strokes it, surrendering to a second bout of crying. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats, wishing he could change things, make it all better…
All the cats sit or lay in silence, some crying, other silently grieving. As with any other cat, they would vigil. Alia deserved it. The entirety of the alleys was silent, as if all knew she was dead. It somehow, they did; There was an emptiness and a cold feeling without she young girl.
The kitten curls up in his grasp, just as Alia would, feeling safe in the heat of his hands. With it’s tail tucked around it comfortably, it dozed off. So many traits of Alia, even with the black and white fur that matched her shirt. The cat wanted to be Victor’s as well; It was like this cat was giving him another way to take care of her…
“I-I don’t think I’ve e-ever been g-given this-this much…” Alia murmured.
I definitely smelled good. She couldn’t help but to remember how, for a while, she was a vegetarian. She hated, and still does, the thought of eating something that use to be alive and was killed for human indulgence. But she wasn’t picky with food anymore. She ate what she got.
“Thank you…” She said and smiled again.
She liked smiling, liked laughing. Even more so when she was with others.
“There’s no need to thank me,” Tamaki said with a wave of his hand. “If you’re going to live here, this is how you’re going to eat every night.” He took a bite of his food, smiling to himself at the taste. His chef never ceased to amaze him with his ability to make such fine meals. “And that means, we’re going to have to figure out what you like and what you don’t, allergies, and things like that. This is your home now, Alia. So, if there is something you don’t find to your liking, don’t hesitate to say so. Your happiness is what we’re striving for, so you’ve got to speak up if there is something you want. Alright?”
Alia smiled faintly, nodding. She took her fork and prodded her meat, but then, the thought of eating it was too overwhelming; It nearly made her sick. She took a long drink from her water to rid the taste of her sickness before setting the gllass down and deciding to eat any vegetables or something like it.
She made herself comfortable with resting her head on her arm, which rested on the table as she poked at her food with her fork. She should’ve just asked for an apple or something; She didn’t realize she was still so much a vegetarian inside. But she didn’t want to admit it either…
Victor knows. It’s taking a lot of his willpower not to cry. Just remember, she’s in a better place, he tell himself.
He gathers up the clothes, then — feeling a bit icky — puts them back on her. “There, that’s better,” he says once he’s done. Now she looks herself again. He picks her back up and carries her outside, then around the back ways to the alley where she made her home. He doesn’t meet anyone, and he’s glad of it. He’s in no fit shape to talk to people now.
The kittens came running up happily, mewling and running about. When Victor puts her down, the climb up onto her, but when she doesn’t move, they back off, thinking she was asleep. A few cats sniffed at her, and they screeched in horror a disbelief.
How could she be dead?! Alia had been living with them for so long! She was young, fast, took care of herself and them and now she was- she was… dead..?
Cloud, one among the group that surrounded the two, dashed away, unable to believe what was happening to his life-long friend. The she-kit that had brought him the leaf buried it’s head into the young man’s hand, old enough to be able to understand what was happening, too you to be able to cope with it.
Victor tries to touch the — ghost? Soul? whatever you define it as — but it’s not long before it vanishes. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. “I r-really hope they’re treating you well Down there,” he whispers.
He gathers his wits and stands up, cradling the body to him. He knows he’s got to tell her little clan of cats what happened. And then he’s got to give her a proper burial. But first… He looks around for her clothes. It’s not right for her to have to look like this in death.
This was when she’d normally lean up against him, holding him gently and doze of in the safety of his arms, feeling warm and content…
Her clothes were abandoned in a corner, covered in dirt and a bit torn from her trying to run from her attacker before she ended up here.Her clothes were always the same; Simple stripped black and white sleeves, opposite to each other and a star in a circle on the front. Jeans and basic black sneakers did fine for her as well.
Okay, there is definitely something touching him — he can just barely feel it, like a light breeze on a summer day…and then there’s a voice that’s like the barest breath of a whisper — Alia? He can’t really make out the words. But — just in case — he reaches up with his own hand and does his best to put it over the spot where she seems to be touching him.
“I — I’m all right,” he whispers, not sure what to do. “If you n-need to go…go.” Honestly, he would have thought she was Downstairs already, but he had no idea how it all worked. (Despite having been pulled down himself twice — but then again, that was clearly magic that allowed a living person to go down there. The only time he’d seen a person truly cross over was with Barkis, and he didn’t know if the lord was a special case…)
Alia feels comforted that he’s talking to her again. She closes her eyes and tries to hug him one more time before she fades. It feels like she’s dying all over again. But there’s nothing she could do, either way. She doesn’t know what’s gonna happen, but she’s already gone. No life, no soul, no spirit; Gone for good this time.
But now, the cats are blissfully unaware, waiting for her return. Kittens running and hunting leaves to impress her with, elders remembering stories to tell, warriors wanting to chat; Cloud, her most precious friend, who’d been the only living thing who’d been with her all the way…
Victor can’t help but want her to move. Barkis had still been conscious and moving when he died — but then again, he died surrounded by walking dead. Maybe the rules were different in such a situation. He just wants to know she’s all right, that she’s passed on peacefully…
He finally gets a handle on his tears, looking up. This just isn’t fair. She’s so young…and she went in such a — how can people like her foster father exist? How can God allow them to exist? He’d say there is no God, but he’s seen the afterlife, so doesn’t that mean there has to be one? God, this always leaves him so confused…
And then — he jumps, looking around wildly. What was that? He — he’d swear he felt something touch his shoulder… .
Alia herself jumped and squeaked when he did; He could feel her? She took a deep breath and rested her hand on his cheek, nuzzling her head against his and whispering, desperate for him to hear,
"It’s okay, Big Brother, I’m okay… Please, don’t cry…"
She could see her own hand growing clearer, as if she was dying all over again. She didn’t know how this whole ‘Afterlife’ thing worked, so she was helplessly confused. Would things just happen on it’s own, or would she have to do something..?
“W-we were, weren’t we?” he nods, trying to smile, even though his own vision’s getting blurry with tears. “You d-deserved so much better than this…and I know you’re going to a b-better place, I’ve seen that it is, but… I’m v-very glad I got the chance to m-meet you. To b-be your big brother…”
He can see she’s leaving him, so he gently kisses her forehead. “I l-love you too, little sister…”
And then…he feels her just stop.
And that’s when the tears come, streaming down his cheeks as he holds her limp little body against him.
Alia’s body slowly got paler and colder, despite being near his cold body. Something like her spirit is sitting beside him, unable to be seen or heard, guiltily watching Victor in misery. Maybe is was a waiting period to watch the people they parted beside, but she was grateful. Once he’s calmed down, she wanted to tell him that she was alright now. She didn’t feel the weight of sin on her shoulders, didn’t feel the constant headache of alertness, didn’t feel the ache of anxiety.
She dared to put one feather-light hand on his shoulder, wanting so badly to hold him. She didn’t want to be dead, but it wasn’t terrible. She’d just have to bear with it…
Victor sees red for a moment. “That — that—” Then he manages to reign in his anger, because Alia needs him a lot right now. “Oh God, Alia, I’m s-so sorry — I wish I—” He doesn’t even know. That he’d been there, that he’d found her another home, that something different had happened. Just not this.
He picks her up and holds her close. “We can s-still get you to a doctor,” he says, but the words sound hollow even as he says them. He can see it in her eyes — the way they’re dimming. There’s no hope. He got here too late. “I — oh, I’m s-so, so sorry…” He feels his eyes being to tear up, and tries desperately to blink them away. He doesn’t want her to see him crying.
Alia watched as her focus slowly got darker and darker. She knew this was it.
"Please, don’t take this out on yourself…" She forced out with what little breath she had, "Don’t be sad; I want you to be happy, please. Don’t get sad when you think of me, because we were always happy, whenever we saw each other…"
“Alia! No, don’t — stay with me, I c-can g-get you to a—”
The bottle hits his hand, and Victor looks down at it. He picks it up and reads the label, then his eyes go wide. What — what was this — had she — Oh God, what had happened? He leans over her, trying to get her to meet his eyes. “Alia, p-please. Talk to me.” He has to know what’s going on, if she’s really…oh God…
"D-Drew… He raped me, because he… knew you wouldn’t be around…" Alia breathed out weakly, "He… gave me a-a shot… I dunno what it was, but… I think I know now, B-Big Brother…"
She smiled again as tears streaked down her cheeks. She believed what he said about the afterlife being friendly and how she was suicidal, but she didn’t want to die anymore. Everything was getting better, so much hope was shining in her world for the first time. She didn’t want to lose it all when she tried to hard to get it.
"I’m scared, Big Brother… I wanna be… here with you…"