Nobody But You

Nobody But You

I was too late.

I knew this as certain as I knew the Sun would rise in the morning. It was confirmed by the burning of my lungs as I breathed in the smoke and ashes that were once the people and place I had come to save. Stray embers kicked up by my boots singed the skin of my bare arms, making my failure all too evident as I traipsed through the fresh graveyard that used to be my home. I ignored the pain, and continued undeterred. It was nothing compared to what had happened to them. I was supposed to save them, the least I could do was stay and watch them burn.

My foot connected unexpectedly with the hard shell of what I could only assume to be bone. Tears sprung to my eyes, but I blamed the burning on the inhospitable environment and blinked them away. I already knew they were all dead, a reminder should mean nothing to me. I tried to focus straight ahead and keep moving, but instead my eyes connected with the remains of a charred doll with blonde hair dyed dark with soot and burned short by fire. It wore clothes of bright colors, standing out against the grey and black that blanketed the ground as far as I could see. A perfect mirror.

I loosed a scream of anguish that left my throat rawer than before. The sound carried wide across the open plain. It didn’t matter.

There was no one here but me.

No one but me-

And Him.

A figure stood tall and alone on the other side of what should have been a joyful place full of people, full of children, full of families, full of couples, full of love-

I had never been in love.

I had never been anywhere close, never so much as kissed a peer in school behind the gym, never held hands with the neighbor under the big oak tree, never confessed crushes with my best friend during a late-night sleepover.

I wondered, now, what it was really like.

How did it feel to carry another in your heart, to be connected so intimately? Was it heavy? How did it feel to be carried in the heart of another, to trust so deeply? Was it freeing?

I knew of butterflies, the so-described fluttering of the stomach that sounded curiously close to fear. Fear, I had felt before. I knew it well.

Now, however, I felt no fear. There was nothing left to fear; the worst had already happened.

When I found myself standing in front of the man responsible for destroying everything I had ever known, there were no butterflies. The only thing I felt in my stomach now was a deep, cavernous pit.

I longed for comfort, for warmth, for the chatter and bustling that should have surrounded me here. Instead, I heard only a solitary voice, smug and victorious.

“How does it feel? To lose?”

Heavy.

I heard once that, sometimes, love hurts. I was definitely hurting now.

Certainly, it was not supposed to feel like this, tinged with a festering hatred, full of a craving for anything, and topped with inexperience and confusion.

I looked into his darkened eyes, reflective of what he had done. We were close, too close for being in such a vast and empty place.

I did not know what love felt like, but I knew what it felt to be desperate for it.

Although I knew this wasn’t right, that this was no where near ‘good’ or ‘healthy’ or ‘normal’ or true love, I also knew it was as close as I would ever get.

I was out of time. For me, there was no later, there was no where else, there was no one else.

Not anymore.

And so, when I found a pair of lips hovering so very close to mine, I closed my eyes and shut out the decimated landscape. In that moment, I could almost believe that this wasn’t the same man that guaranteed I would never get the chance to experience the very thing we were pretending to have. We kissed, and he held me close with the very same hands that brought such catastrophic loss and devastation into my life. I let myself fall into the feeling, get lost in the touches—wrong as it all was.

Freedom.

It was over.

This is Love (3 hero/villain snippets)

(All based on the song “This is Love” by Air Traffic Controller)

1. Run

“Villain,” Hero acknowledged with a slight inclination of their head. “Back again so soon?”

“What can I say,” Villain grinned back, all teeth. “I just love to pick a fight.”

Hero readies themselves for the inevitable attack, planting their feet wider and placing a hand on one of several throwing knives strapped to their thigh.

“This time, I won’t let you win,” declared Villain.

Hero did not bother to indulge the jab, instead focusing on the move that they intended to distract from. Villain’s own knife sailed past them on the right as they dodged smoothly to the left.

Quick to respond, Hero sent two of their blades into the air in rapid succession. They both narrowly missed the target, one drawing just a single drop of blood from Villain’s ear.

Villain rolled, ducking behind a barrel before popping out the other side while simultaneously loosing their last long range dagger.

Hero tracked them easily, and they were ready to block the blow with a makeshift shield. The knife lodged itself in the wooden board and Hero chucked it back to the side where they had found it.

“Get your blood pumping yet?” Villain called from behind the corner of the brick building they had moved to.

“Not hardly,” Hero replied, palming two more daggers and stalking towards the alley in which they heard the villain’s voice.

“Don’t worry,” Hero turned the corner just in time to see the maniacal grin spread across Villain’s face. “I have just the thing.”

Hero raised their throwing arms just as Villain reached into their back waistband and pulled out a gun.

“Now, let’s see how fast you can run.”

2. Betrayal

(tw: mention of past abuse, mention of suicidal ideation, toxic relationship)

“I’m an idiot for thinking…all those late shifts, God, I just thought you were saving up for us! To think you were out there….doing, doing those…those things,” she spat, and she didn’t stop there. “And the laundry, GOD I praised you for helping out. I didn’t think…why would I ever think! The hydrogen peroxide…the cold cycles!” Her voice carried nothing but despair when she realized, “Everytime I thought you were spoiling me, you were really just destroying evidence! Oh my god, and the gifts-“

“I was going to tell you,” Villain replied evenly, holding his hands up placatingly.

“Don’t you even start with me. Where is this necklace from?” She questioned, looping a finger under the chain and shaking the charm violently, “Did you get it from that heist I heard about? The one two towns over, out that old highway-“ Lover paused to suck in a affronted breath before she renewed, “Where did you get my ring! I swear to god, if you got my engagement ring off some poor dead woman before you got down on one knee-“

“I bought that ring. How could you ever think I could do that to you-“ Villain responded with only the smallest hint of malice in his tone.

“You could kill me! And maybe you should!” Lover shouted, before sinking to their knees on the kitchen floor, body racked with sobs. “God, I’m stupid. I’m so, so STUPID.”

Villain stared at the form of his lover, fallen to the tiles, curled up against a wooden cabinet. His face didn’t change, remaining impassive as he kneeled beside the love of his life.

“I knew it would go like this,” he started with what seemed like calmness, but if you knew him well enough—like Lover did—you would know that this was his true anger. “You say that we are partners, we fall in love, we get married,” something like disdain crept in between his words, “but once you see the darkness, you get uncomfortable and you forget all about who I really am-“

Lover scoffed loudly, a sound Villain would have been pleased to hear from her if directed at anyone else.

“You must love playing the victim. Do you actually believe that? That I couldn’t handle this?”

“I was good once, you know? I could’ve been what you wanted, back then, before my father beat it out of me,” he spoke matter-of-factly, voice devoid of any emotion.

“You know, what you’re doing out there…,” Lover shook her head. “You’re just a part of a pattern. When you make others feel your pain, you’re just continuing the cycle. And you’ve done nothing to get out!” She explained. “God, Villain, what if we had kids?!”

Lover slowly pulled herself up off the ground, clutching the countertop for balance.

“Everyone who’s tried to fix me knows that I can’t change. This is just who I am. I could promise you that I’ll try. Then you’ll forgive me, and then we’ll move on and—like always—nothing will really change. You’ll play house and pretend everything isn’t the exact same-”

“I am not your past lovers, Villain. Do not make assumptions about my decisions,” her words burned with thinly-veiled fury. “I want this to work. I really do. I love you.” She added, some doubt creeping, “It’s pathetic, I know. Especially to someone like you-”

“It’s not pathetic to love me. This is love, and I’m not going to just let you leave like it was nothing. I’m a jealous fool who won’t let go. You know that. I don’t want to see you with someone else,” he admitted, and he spoke it like a true confession.

“Then work with me! Let’s make up for it. All of it. Let’s do good,” she clasped his hands and looked up at his face, trying to catch his eyes.

“What if I don’t want to do good? If I was sorry for my actions, I would have shame. I would never stoop as low as to have pride in what I do. You should be disgusted by me,” he stared past his fiancée towards the window above the sink and watched the evening light filter through.

“You really are a fool. Don’t you understand?” Lover grabbed him by the chin and forced him to meet her gaze. “I would've taken you. Skeletons and all. If you had just told me. You didn’t have to hide. We could've figured it out together. We’re supposed to do this together.” She held up her ring finger to punctuate her point.

“It’s too late now,” he tried to break away, but Lover held strong, “I've got nothing left to give you. Without you I have nothing. No laughs. No joy. No reason to live. This is over.”

“You cannot put that on me. That’s not fair. You’re sick. This kind of love will only make you mad,” Lover defended, but it didn’t seem to Villain like she really believed it. Her face fell, like she could hear the untruth in her words, too.

“I’m sorry, Lover.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

…

Lover had no regrets as she perched on the rooftop with Villain, hiding in the shadows and waiting for the target to pass by. A figure crossed the street below them, and they both smiled.

“Fuck it, this is love.”

3. Bank Robbery

Hero struggled fiercely against the two men at her sides, jerking her arms where they held her and cursing when they didn’t budge. These guys were ridiculously strong, and impassive to any of her attempts to free herself. Both their expressions were hidden behind black ski masks, which naturally made them hard to read. She was actively trying to jam one in the foot when another man approached.

“Ah ah,” tutted the third man, obviously the leader and the only one who had spoken thus far. “Do I really need to say it?” He asked as he rested the butt of the gun against Hero’s forehead.

Hero went still but continued to glare into the mask of the man in front of her. Unfortunately, this only seemed to amuse him.

Outside, the other heroes could be heard arriving. Deafening sirens and the cheer of the crowd gave them away easily. Hero couldn’t see the leader’s face, but she could somehow still swear he grinned and his eyes lit up with glee.

He placed his hands on both of her shoulders as he spoke, “Perfect, now you can actually be of some use.” At the same time, the two burly men released her.

Before Hero had time to start formulating any sort of a plan, the leader used his hands to shove her out in front of him, making her stumble towards the doors. Hero whipped back around to face him, not wanting any of these people to be out of her line of sight for long.

“I think you’d better tell your friends to go,” he suggested, then added casually, “And if you try to talk to someone, well then,” He gestured lazily with his weapon, pointing it towards the cowering mass of civilians across the room, “someone has to die.”

Hero could hear the quiet whimpering of some of the hostages as she walked towards the door. She was shadowed by one of the men that had held her earlier, no doubt so he could listen in on anything she did (or didn’t) say.

Great, so these criminals weren’t quite as dumb as they looked.

With no other reasonable course of action coming to mind, Hero crossed the lobby with a straight back and chin held high.

“I have it handled, guys,” she called out conversationally when she reached the glass entryway. “Seriously, go home.”

Hero threw back a glance to the group of robbers, and she once again found herself with the uncanny feeling of being able to tell the leader’s expression—this time, a sneer.

So definitely not what he was going for. Oh well, he should have been more specific. Hero certainly wasn’t going to go beg. That just wasn’t in the job description.

Confident in her attempt, Hero walked back towards the vault and shrugged her shoulders.

“I tried.”

She could hear the snarl in his voice when he spoke.

“You think that’s funny? I’ll show you what’s funny-“

Except, he never got the chance. You see, all Hero ever really had to do was rile them up. After that, criminals basically do the job for you.

He was too blinded by anger to see her grab for his gun, and his lackeys were too busy underestimating her to bother to point their own weapons in her direction.

When glass shattered and the rest of the heroes busted in, all the soon-to-be-prisoners were already on the ground.

“I told you guys, I had it handled.”

Spontaneous Parenthood

(Prompt by @autocrats-in-love : “Are you my new daddy?” The hero’s child asked, blinking up with wide eyes. The villain sighed. “For the last time, I’m trying to kidnap you! Get in the car!”)

The villain was overjoyed when he learned the address of the hero’s real home and was practically vibrating with excitement as he followed the GPS to the location.

“You have arrived at your destination,” a monotone feminine voice announced.

“Yeah yeah, I see it.”

Villain slowed to a stop just in front of a classic suburban home, complete with grass that almost needed to be cut—such was the life of a hero, Villain presumed; too busy to pull out the lawnmower every weekend. He took in the off-white paint and the layered grey shingles on the roof. Two deck chairs sat adjacent to the front door, and a hydrangea bush in full bloom next to the mailbox. There were no cars in the driveway, and the garage was open and empty, beckoning Villain out of his SUV and into the home.

Once inside, he took in the large kitchen, with shiny countertops and a giant island. The living room was just as overwhelming, plush carpet and huge couch not quite properly filling the huge space. There were more doors on the far wall, but Villain found his gaze drawn to the grand staircase settled to his right.

Start upstairs, then work his way down.

Villain ran his hand along the carved wooden banister until he reached the top, then he headed for the farthest door on the hall.

Surely he could find something to use against Hero in this practical mansion.

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs behind him sent Villain spinning into the nearest room, shutting the door swiftly but silently.

When he turned around, he saw something completely unexpected.

A child, sleeping in a small bed, tucked beneath a Tinker Bell comforter.

There was no time to process the discovery because outside the door, a woman’s voice sounded, “Yeah, it’s still in the shop. Katie’s taking a nap though, so I think I’m gonna let you go. Yeah, finally some Mommy-time. I can’t wait to actually finish this book.”

The voice faded, and Villain breathed a sigh of relief. This, however, was premature.

A new voice, this one tiny and young, caused Villain to jump two feet in the air.

“Who are you?” It asked, and the villain froze.

“Um…” he searched his surroundings for any plausible cover and found nothing but butterfly lamps and Disney Princess dolls.

“I’m a friend of your Dad’s?” He finally tried, uncertainty lacing his tone. He had no idea what kind of acting it took to convince a child, but he figured that probably wasn’t good enough.

His plan was in ruins, house now unsearchable with two occupants. He couldn’t just leave either, the kid would rat him out immediately.

That left only one option.

“I’m taking you somewhere else,” Villain spoke quickly, poking his head out the door to ensure the woman—presumably this girl’s mother—was gone.

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise,” he replied as he took hold of a tiny hand and pulled the girl towards the door.

Kids like surprises, right?

“Uh uh,” she shook her head. “How do I know you’re not a bad man?”

“I am a bad man,” Villain responded automatically. When she tried to pull away from his hand, he scooped her up and started down the stairs quickly.

Distraction. He needed a distraction.

“What’s with the tutu?”

The girl looked down at her outfit: a pink tutu overlaying a pair of Mickey Mouse themed footy-pajamas, complete with an eye patch flipped up over her forehead.

“I’m a fairy Princess pirate!”

She appeared utterly displeased with Villain’s ineptitude at recognizing her incredibly well-established costume.

“Shouldn’t you have a tiara or something?”

Wrong question.

He watched as she took a big breath and opened her mouth and realized he had to act fast.

He said the first thing that popped into his head.

“We can get ice cream!”

Villain grimaced. His current plan was contingent on a child staying quiet for frozen treats. Not his best work.

Luckily, the promise of ice cream seemed to easily override the kid’s survival instincts. Villain would be sure to mention that to Hero when she gets returned.

Speaking of Hero.

“Where’s my Dad?” The little girl asked as they reached the driveway.

“He’s not here right now, but if you come with me you’ll see him soon.”

He unlocked the car, but Hero’s daughter refused to get in.

“I don’t want to go. Why are you here and Dad isn’t?”

Villain opened his mouth to reply before realizing he had no idea how to comfort a confused child, much less one he was kidnapping.

“Let’s just get in the car.”

The girl seemed to think for a moment before she spoke again. Her face shifted from upset to…curious?

“Are you my new daddy?” She asked, blinking up at him with wide eyes.

The villain sighed, exasperated. “For the last time, I’m trying to kidnap you! Get in the car!”

“Daddy told me I shouldn’t get in the car with strangers,” she said sternly, pouting her lip slightly and planting her feet.

“I- okay, you know what, fine. I will be temporarily filling in the role of father in your Dad’s absence. Is that good enough? Can we get in the car now?”

“Sure!” Her face returned to its usual brightness, and she lifted up her arms and made grabby-hands at the villain. Villain loosed a sigh of relief and bent down to lift the child into the car.

“I can’t ride in the front,” she protested, and Villain froze holding her hovering in front of the open passenger side door.

“…right,” Villain hesitated, looking around for anyone to come catch him in the act and solve this problem easily. If the police were called, he could just drop the child and run.

Unfortunately, the street was quiet, and Villain had no legitimate reason to halt this abduction.

Setting the girl back down, Villain closed the door and opened the backseat.

Taking a second attempt at lifting her into the car, this time, she almost reached the leather seat before stopping him again.

“I need my car seat! It’s in case I get in a axe-see-dent,” she sounded, kicking her feet in displeasure.

Villain groaned.

“I don’t have a car seat.”

“That’s not very safe,” Katie—if Villain remembered correctly—crossed her arms and huffed exaggeratedly.

“Okay…I’ll just go…find one,” Villain murmured, mostly to himself.

Villain wandered absently into the garage in search of a car seat. He saw several things he had missed the first time in his excitement. For example, three bikes mounted to the wall, one suspiciously small and pink and sparkly. If the training wheels weren’t a big enough red flag, everything else should have been: a pink life vest, chalk, sidewalk paint, bubble solution. Villain certainly didn’t take Hero for one to occupied by a giant bubble wand in his free time.

By a stroke of luck, he recognized the seat sitting in a corner.

A few minutes later, after studying confusing safety instruction stickers and teaching Katie a few new words in the process, Villain successfully buckled Hero’s child into the seat.

Villain finally settled into the front, driving away after buckling himself—at Katie’s insistence.

“Play Lil Jon!”

“I told you, this is a kidnapping, I’m not going to play you music.”

Katie went silent, and Villain prayed she wasn’t about to burst into tears.

“When are we getting ice cream?”

Villain adjusted his rear view mirror to be able to keep an eye on the kid. Her eyes were locked out the heavily tinted window and her lip was trembling.

He cursed, internally this time.

Villain blamed innate parental instincts as he pulled into the Dairy Queen, ‘Turn Down For What’ blasting through the speakers.

He could feel the beginning of a headache pressing behind his eyes.

It was going to be a long ride.

Rain Check

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take a rain check on this?”

The villain currently had the hero pinned harshly against the wall, incredulous eyes roaming across the hero’s face, searching for any sign of a joke.

They had spotted the hero sneaking through the shadows along a long line of buildings, moving quickly and carelessly with little awareness of the space around them. They were alone, dressed in civilian clothes and the villain could see no obvious weaponry on their person. All they seemed to be carrying was an unidentifiable plastic shopping bag that swung wildly with their pace. It was perfect, and the villain would never let a good opportunity go to waste. The villain was able to get closer, and closer, and finally close enough to catch the hero completely off guard and land a solid unguarded punch to the gut, causing the hero to drop their bag and double over. The fight commenced from there, and soon brought the hero’s back to collide with hard brick.

“Right when I’m winning? I don’t think so, Dear,” the villain spoke pitifully, before grabbing the hero by the shoulders, then throwing them off the wall roughly to the ground and following them onto the concrete.

“I’m serious-“ the hero started, but was cut off into a wheeze by the weight of the villain kneeling on their chest, hands forcing their arms down by their sides.

“So am I. Why would I forfeit such a victory?” The villain teased towards the obviously-overpowered hero. The question was mostly rhetorical, the villain was not one who gave up advantages easily.

Despite the hero’s pleas, they weren’t struggling, and the villain suddenly found themselves somewhat disconcerted. Come to think of it, the hero hadn’t landed a single good hit on the villain, despite the fact that the hero was almost certainly already turning black and blue themselves. The villain leaned back to study the hero, wondering if maybe something was wrong. Certainly, there was no fun in beating an opponent that didn’t even bother to put up a fight.

“What’s the matter with you?” The villain asked after a moment still absent of any defiance from the hero. Not so much as a glare; in fact, the hero was pointedly ignoring the villain’s gaze. Their eyes appeared to be locked across the street, possibly at the freshly-graffitied dumpster that provided a colorful distraction from the rest of the dull city, and from this situation apparently.

The hero finally spoke after another moment passed, reluctance lacing their tone, “What will it take for you to let me go right now?”

The villain did not see that coming. They should have been overjoyed, mind racing with the possibilities of what they could extort from the hero, or how much they could make them suffer by keeping them here. Instead, they just felt their face souring.

After the villain failed to produce any words of response to the hero’s question, the hero’s eyes finally turned to the person atop them. Desperation, clear and heavy, was written across their face.

The villain was once again taken aback. Shaking their head to clear their thoughts, they suddenly remembered the bag that the hero had dropped. They looked over, and the plastic was within reach so they began to pull it over and dump the contents out onto the concrete.

“Please! The fate of the world depends on it-“

Three Elmer’s glue bottles tumbled free of the plastic, causing the villain to stare wide-eyed at the pile.

“The fate of the world depends on,” the villain sounded carefully before they shifted their gaze from the orange-capped bottles to level deadpan at the hero. “…glue.”

“You don’t understand, okay? The flour wasn’t working and we ran out of Elmer’s and the project is due first thing in the morn-“ the hero rambled, stopping only to suck in a breath before they were interrupted by the villain.

“Flour? Glue? Please tell me you aren’t subbing a baking ingredient for white glue.” The villain imagined how it would taste to eat the props from those cereal commercials, the ones where the milk was replaced with glue to keep the pieces from getting soggy. They grimaced. The new scented sticks would taste so much better than the liquid.

“First of all, it’s nontoxic,” the hero stated.

“That doesn’t mean-“

“Second of all, that’s not what it’s for,” the hero continued defensively.

“So what is it for? How could you possibly be saving the world with four ounces of school glue?” The villain eased their knee off the hero’s chest so they could breathe, but kept them lying with their back on the sidewalk, definitely-non-edible glue bottles strewn out beside them.

“Paper mache. Obviously,” the hero rolled their eyes disapprovingly at the villain, like it was a well-known fact that the world has been saved with newspaper and liquid glue countless times.

“Right…” the villain was dumbfounded. Were they…missing something?

Luckily, the hero continued, “We saved the Earth for last; we had the paint and everything but I mixed in too much water and now it’s just floppy–which is great if you believe in flat Earth I guess but not great if you’re trying to get a good grade for the science fair-“

The villain blinked. Science fair. Earth. Paper mache-

Oh my god.

“You’re asking me to let you go so you can build a replica of the solar system?!”

“Look, it’s really important to him and I promised we’d do it together-“

“Who?” The villain interrupted.

“My brother. Duh.” Right. Of course. How could they possibly not have known?

The villain honestly had to respect the audacity.

“How about we come back tomorrow,” the villain offered. As much as they hated to admit it, the mental image of a frowning child holding up an incomplete 3D display of the solar system all alone in front of a poorly-decorated tri-fold board pulled at their heart strings.

“After 12? That’s when it ends,” the hero blinked up at them with pleading eyes, and the villain caved, releasing their arms and standing up off the ground.

“Sure.”

The villain couldn’t believe they’ve gotten so soft.

The hero and the villain is cuddling

Villain held the Hero in their lap, on the bed, in their bedroom. Surprising, I know. They sighed softly, burrying their face in Hero's hair.

"...You've changed me, Hero. You've made me see things differently, made me reconsider my path as a villain. You know, I used to revel in the chaos and destruction, in being the bad guy" Villain spoke lowly, a smile tugged on their face as they looked back on the years.

"But now... now I don't know if I can go back to that. Not when I have you."

The hero tilted their head up to meet Villain's face with a smile. They turn around on the bed so they were meeting Villain's face, placing their hands on Villain's chest.

"Id appreciate if you change your ways for the better but... Honestly? Ill accept anything, from your worst to your best. everything. You could burn the world and I'd still let you in my heart the next day..as much as I hate it" The hero spoke, meetin Villain's sharp green eyes as Hero chuckled.

Hero was laughing, Villain thought. Laughing and smiling and safe in their arms. True genuine happiness, they couldn't believe their luck. Hell, they couldn't believe their fate! It was so far different from when Hero tried to stop him. The fierceness and determined look, not that Villain was complaining, changed to this..vulnurable love.

Villain would be damned before something ever happens to their Hero.

Song inspiration :

Searching

She stepped carefully across the gravel that filled the lot behind the abandoned building. Her eyes flicked from side to side, searching between the broken cars and machinery that littered the surrounding area, searching for any sign of him. She had scoured the entire town for any account of a sighting, any tip as to where the villain may have been. This location had been her first lead— a sighting reported by a gentleman in ragged clothes who had since migrated to the other end of town. She moved as quietly as possible, on the very off chance that someone was around this part of town at this time of day. It was the evening, about six o’clock, rush hour was over and the working class had already returned to their homes. This part of town was mainly abandoned anyway, the only intact buildings around had weathered for-lease signs and most businesses had long since moved on. She desperately hoped to find something, anything here that could aid in her mission. The man she searched for had so far proven himself to be a ghost— not a trace left or seen anywhere.

That wasn’t going to stop her though.

She peeked into an old truck bed, and her eyes zeroed in on a piece of clothing that had been discarded in the corner. It was the most out-of-place article that she had encountered so far. Temporarily, poorly-contained optimism clouded her senses as she reached for the dark blue fabric. Too late she heard the crunch of rocks underneath the heel of a boot. Too late she tried to spin around, only for her body to be slammed into the tailgate of the old red truck, her outstretched arm now twisted painfully behind her back. Before she could finish the groan that escaped her lips when her stomach collided with the rusted metal, a second hand reached and grabbed the large knife she had sheathed at her hip. She attempted to crane her neck back unsuccessfully as her concealed weapons were one by one removed from her person by a skilled hand that worked quicker than she could process. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she attempted to thrash and kick back at her assailant. Her free arm tried desperately to claw or reach for any remaining knives. Unfortunately, the figure behind her held strong and worked fast, their now-free hand tangling itself into her hair and pushing her head down, erasing any chance of catching a glimpse of its owner. Her mind raced now that her protections had disappeared and she was clearly outmatched in strength. However, her rapid thoughts froze immediately after a voice spoke behind her.

“Looking for someone?”

She couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. She knew better than to get excited at a stupid piece of cloth. She had training and yet she had managed to be bested in a matter of seconds.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt once again as the figure pressed up against her back and warm breath met her ear.

“Cause I don’t appreciate people sniffing around in my business.”

No.

There’s no way this was him. This was just supposed to be a lead. She was not prepared to actually encounter anyone yet, let alone him. This was supposed to take months maybe even years…

And yet she had found him.

No. He had found her.

The hand in her hair yanked back before releasing and returning to pull her other hand behind her back, attaching her wrists together with the zip of a plastic tie. Before she could think of using the opportunity to twist around and use her legs to her advantage—however stupid that may have been now that she was unarmed and her opponent was now definitely not—she was manhandled back by her wrists and forced onto her knees by a swift kick to the back of her legs. Gravel dug into her skin through her pants and she gritted her teeth.

A sudden anger surged within her. She had just let this happen. Why didn’t she fight harder? Why didn’t she know someone was behind her? She should have scouted the place out faster, been more prepared for a fight. Truth was she was too stunned to do anything. She was unprepared and all of her opportunities were lost.

She took in her new situation. Weaponless, on her knees in unfamiliar territory with an unknown assailant.

“That was way too easy for someone who’s shown as much tenacity as you. You just couldn’t let it go, could you? You knew you’d find nothing and yet you continued to look. I’m sure you were warned, so why? Why search for a ghost whose notoriety means only certain death for you?”

She stayed silent, her eyes trained on the ground. She didn’t dare take her sights off the grey rocks. If it was really him, he couldn’t know who she was. Why she was here.

Not yet at least.

“The way I see it, you must have a damn good reason for coming here. And by here I don’t just mean this side of the tracks. So I think I’m gonna meet the person in front of me, whether you like it or not.”

Still, she didn’t provide a response. Even as she sensed him stepping closer.

“After all, you could have fought harder.”

And DAMN him. She knew she could have. She knew she should have…

But he was right. She had a damn good reason. Because he knew everything.

Everything she needed to know.

She fought the urge to slam her head into his at his whisper in the close proximity. He seemed to have sensed this by the twitch of her neck in his direction.

“Trait number one: smart. That move would definitely not have earned you any points. I believe I sense a bit of feistiness in you too. I like it.”

The hand returned to her hair and soon her face met the ground, her nose crunching with the gravel as blood began to trickle down her face without her hands to break the fall.

“But you know what I don’t like? People who don’t listen when I speak. I said, ‘who are you?’”

The force on her head multiplied and she turned her neck so that her mouth could suck in much needed air. A knee pressed into her back, keeping her down.

“You technically never said that, and I am smarter than to answer that anyway,” she forced the words past her lips in a manner just short of a chuckle.

“Definitely feisty. Smart-ass may be more accurate.”

His grip lightened and she was pulled back upright by a strong hand clamped on her shoulder. In front of her, a view was revealed of the sun dipping below the trees across the lot, the sky turning a fiery orange at the horizon. Each object around the lot cast a long shadow in the evening light, each stretching out towards her like they wished to envelop her in their darkness.

She almost wished they could.

But she had finally found what she was looking for.

Now what?

“So Ms. Smart-and-feisty, to what do I owe the pleasure of being the object of your obsession?”