Disclaimer: Not mine blah blah blah no infringement intended.

This is a new story I'm writing, but don't worry, I won't neglect Echoes.
I got inspired watching My Fair Lady of all things, which is amusing cause it's such a nice, lighthearted film whereas this.... isn't:)

Title may or may not be temporary, rated R for violence, feedback please.
 

The Nature of Things

by Melody

13th Jan 2000
10:39 pm.

A heart-beat was the loudest noise in the room, echoed by shallow breathing. One heart-beat but two bodies, generally not the healthiest thing in the world. Jarod wondered if it were possible to share the one heart-beat, if both he and Miss Parker could live off the breath he drew. Miss Parker... he wished. This broken and bloody form beside him was not Miss Parker. Her torn dress. Her blank eyes. No, this was not Miss Parker.

He would call her Morticia, he thought to himself, and chuckled, vaguely aware that pain, blood loss and hunger was causing reason to leave him. Mort would be her nickname, he told himself, the French word for death, it would suit her waxy, porcelain skin and long tresses, black with blood. His hazy mind briefly entertained the idea of manipulating her stiff limbs, making her dance like a puppet. A garish, yet fascinating vision. But impossible, what with his broken legs.

Jarod began to sob.

*****

Two weeks before,
Blue Cove, Delaware.
31st Dec 1999

8:26 pm.

Broken branches tugged at his skin, tearing through his clothes as he ran, his breath rasping out of his chest as he ran from unseen forces. But this was nothing, he could deal with physical pain and fear. That wasn't what worried him, what made his feet to thump on the ground haphazardly, what caused his mind to spin. No, those things, although in the past they had seemed like such terrible things, they paled in comparison to what he ran from now.

His wild dash through the forest surrounding the Centre was from what he knew was chasing him. Although he heard no shouts, no footsteps, saw no flashlight beams, no glint of light on metal guns, he knew he was being followed. It was the nature of things at the Centre. Hunt and destroy. Except this one was better at it than most.

He stumbled, a branch cracking overhead distracting him, and he ploughed down into the dirt in front of him. It was here. He raised himself into a low crouch, hands positioned in front of his body defensively, knees bent and ready to spring, lightly resting on the balls of his feet, an automatic defence mode through time. Licking his dry lips he stared into the darkness around him, up into the treetops, listening to the night-birds call, feeling the sweat trickle down his back.

Silence and serenity, a tempting illusion. He turned slowly, searching the inky blackness for a sign of his hunter, peering through the fog that was rolling in, wrapping him in it's slinky dampness. If he could just make it out of the forest, he thought, if he could just find help, a phone booth, anything or anyone with which to pass the message along, it would reach the right people eventually. The terrible truth would be known.

Hearing the slightest noise he whirled, too late to stop the attack that left him screaming. His body sliding to the ground as he let out one last groan of pain, Broots realised he had failed.

-------

11:19 pm.

Ecstasy filtered slowly out of her body, leaving coldness behind. Cigarette smoke trailed into the air, making the man cough as she watched him dress. Silently he left, the echo of a car roaring off making her shiver as she drew the sheet further up her body. She hadn't even got all of her clothes off this time, but she couldn't be bothered doing up a few loose buttons and retrieving her skirt from the floor.

Happy New Year's, Parker thought to herself, staring at the glowing red numbers of her bedside clock. Happy-fucking-New Year's. Eventually she rose, shedding her rumpled clothes in favour of a short, black cocktail dress, determined to have some fun before the night was through. She grabbed the half-empty bottle of vodka on her way out, taking a swig of the burning liquid as she clutched her car key to her.

Parker was feeling hazy as she turned the ignition, slightly seasick as she drove. Thus she wasn't terribly surprised when the car, no longer under her dubious control, drifted off the road and into a tree, releasing her into the dark realm of bloody unconsciousness.

11:23 pm.

It was his headlights glinting on metal that caught his attention. In the woods of Blue Cove this was a highly unusual occurrence. He pulled his car over to the side of the road, contemplating the intelligence of exploring. He had many enemies, it could be a trap... but then again, who knew he would be here? Curiosity won hands down.

He collected his overcoat, retrieved his flashlight from the car, and went in search of what he had found. The mist that had gathered played tricks with his memory, and he spent several minutes cursing and stumbling through the dark, feeling the damp night air soak into his bones.

And there, in the darkness, another reflection of his light. Not metal this time, but something else, something glassier, deeper, absorbing light as well as reflecting it...

"Jesus Christ!!!" It was an eye. This glassy reflection was coming from that techie Broots' open eyes, the metal flash before from his watch. Which was embedded in his neck. One hand was clawing its way in the direction of the road, a look of pain, terror and desperation on his face.

Sudden caution caused him to freeze, slowly raising his head to gaze into the darkness. The body was fresh, light wisps of steam still rose from the gaping wounds. And, strange as it was, he felt something. A presence, it was still in the area, watching him. He backed up slowly, keeping his eyes open as he fumbled with the doorhandle of his car, finally wrenching it open and dropping heavily inside, willing a wave of nausea to pass as he recalled the bloody body. Flicking the key in the ignition, Lyle sped off, in the direction of his sister's house.
  ----

11: 25 pm.

The air-bag had saved her life, but had not kept her completely unharmed. A tree branch had smashed through the windscreen, narrowly missing piercing her head, instead grazing of the side, leaving a bloody gash behind it. One arm was sprained, by the looks of its swollen redness, perhaps a few ribs cracked. And Jarod was thankful that that was all that had happened.

He had seen her drive away from her house, knew she was probably drunk, befitting a New Year's tradition, and had driven a safe distance behind her, to keep an eye on her. And now, as he lay on the grass beside her, watching her car explode, he was thankful he had done so.

Tenderly Jarod stroked Parker's hair, laying gentle kisses on her forehead as he heaved great, gasping sobs, the shock of the last five minutes leaving him shuddering. His relief was overwhelming when she stirred, her eyes opening slowly as he tried to control himself. Carefully he helped her to sit up, seeing her stunned expression as she took in the fireball up the road from them.

"My... my car?" she questioned tremulously, and Jarod nodded, running a soothing hand down her back as she began to tremble with shock. This time the sobs were hers as she buried her face in his chest, and Jarod held her, murmured comforting words, tried not to take too much pleasure from the action.

A car sped by them, towards the inferno that had once been Parker's car, screeching to a sudden stop. Jarod watched in trepidation as it backed up, stopping beside them. The door was flung open, Lyle staring out at them.

"Get in." he barked hoarsely, and Jarod scrambled to his feet, taking Parker with him. With his eyes he measured the distance to his car, surprised at Lyle's sudden growl of impatience.

"For God's sake Jarod! It isn't about that! Get in the car or you'll both be dead, and it won't be me that's doing the killing!" Parker stared at him, automatically taking one step forward before hesitating.

"It's out there! Don't you feel it?" Lyle whispered hoarsely, his eyes flicking into the darkness, "It killed Broots and it's still there!" his words were desperate, urging Parker and Jarod to step into the car, the realisation of his last statement not sinking in. It wasn't until they were both in the backseat that Miss Parker understood.

"Broots...  is dead?" she whispered, and Lyle nodded.

"I found him in the forest, beside the road... " he grimaced in an expression of disbelief and disgust, "Not far from here... I saw the car and thought it must have got you too... "

"What must have? What precisely are we talking about here? Did you see it, whatever it was?" Jarod asked, and Lyle shook his head.

"No... but I felt it. It was still in the area when I found Broots, I could feel it watching me." Lyle murmured and shivered, while Miss Parker gave him a distrustful look.

"So it, whatever it is, killed Broots and decided to hang around, but not taking any more victims, such as yourself or us. You haven't seen it, but can feel it. And you expect us to believe this?" asked Parker sceptically, and Lyle grimaced.

"I now how it sounds but it's true! I felt it!" he cried, and Jarod nodded.

"It doesn't matter anyway. We need to figure out what it is, where it is now, where it came from and why it's killing. I say we go to Parker's house, it's closest."

****

11:45 pm.

Bright lights and loud noises was all it understood, much blood gathered in one place. From the edges of the trees it watched, feeling a mixture of terror and fascination. All it understood were brief commands and grey walls, this gathering of meat, civilisation, had never been encountered before.
 
 

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