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Series Finale
\ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office - The Mezzanine / Reaching the abrasion’s end, Vic releases Scarlett’s throat from her grasp, the hand she holds the woman’s wrist with forcefully pulling away. Her propulsion too great to combat against, Scarlett’s figure flies into the bonsai tree’s towering trunk, colliding with the sturdy obstruction as her flight halts. “What are you doing, Scar!?” Vic exclaims, her feet hanging over the chasm as she watches Scarlett reposition herself, not dissuaded from her initial attack’s failure. Without a word, Scarlett places her back against the tree’s soaring length and propels herself forward, her hand reaching for Vic’s throat as the question is discarded. Aware of the danger that lies ahead, Vic prepares for Scarlett’s follow-through accordingly, her fingers snapping just as the fiery blonde lunges forward, barely escaping her ill-intentioned grasp. “Can you fucking hear me!?” Vic calls out, watching Scarlett’s thrust wane as she comes to a stop, aiming herself toward Vic once more. “Scar, whatever the hell this is needs to stop!” Vic shouts, pausing momentarily to look Scarlett in the eyes, unable to find emotion of any sort in the woman’s demeanour. “Can you hear me?” Vic asks for a second time, finally offered a response in the form of Scarlett’s slowed approach, the malicious advancement Scarlett had originally met her with having somewhat subsided. “All hail the king” Scarlett murmurs, her voice deepening as her hand takes Vic by the throat yet again, this time given the chance to follow through on her impulsive thoughts. With vicious force, Scarlett hand launches Vic toward the floor of a lower level, her brunette acquaintance fired like a rocket to what threatens to spell her demise. Having the foresight to predict the calm display being little more than a ruse, Vic aids herself in slowing her descent, though not enough to leave her unharmed. With the impact of someone falling down a flight of stairs, Vic makes impact with the ground, rolling through her collision as she crashes into the nearest wall. Aching, Vic rolls onto her back as the dark corner she’d come to a stop within begins to shine with a deep, red colour. Little time to consider a plan, Vic returns to her feet, affording her the chance to watch Scarlett’s feet meet the same terrain as her own, a motivated confidence in her posture as she prepares to deal Vic a fatal blow. “I’m not going to kill you” Vic proclaims, holding her back as she leans against the nondescript wall, her face filling with regret, “none of this is worth killing each other over.” Her expression unchanged, Scarlett remains standing before her friend, her golden locks shining as if kissed by the sun’s blessing itself. Her service dagger summoned, Scarlett’s weapon reveals colours as true as the ones awoken from within her, its pulsating glow shining a bold, bright shade of red equal to that of her eyes. A painful sigh leaving her lungs, Vic lets her hands fall to her sides as she shakes her head, refusing to fight the fate that lies ahead whilst simultaneously rejecting the realm’s desires. Dropping to her knees, Vic steadies her eyes upon Scarlett, openly accepting the end that awaits her. “I’m not living in a world without you” Vic remarks, lifting her chin as Scarlett steps forward, looking past Vic’s pleas with the gluttonous hunger for control driving her forward, “just make it fast.” The space between them shortened to the point of no longer existing, Scarlett pulls her hand back, preparing the dagger for its final place of residency. “All hail-” Scarlett repeats, pausing herself as her hand drives forward, its point held toward Vic’s face until the very last moment, where it viciously veers off course with a curious motivation. Her foot falling back to resteady herself, Scarlett struggles with what resides within, “All-” she further murmurs, trying to pull her hand back despite a greater force refusing to allow herself. “No!” Scarlett exclaims, her voice more defiant in nature as her hangs swings around, the service weapon relinquished as she ferociously spins herself around, turning away from Vic as she fights for supremacy, her greatest battle one fought on the battleground within herself. “All hail the king!” Scarlett growls in heavy opposition, her off-balanced retreat overthrown as she plants her feet upon the ground, quashing the internal rebellion that threatened to undermine herself. Resummoning the dagger, Scarlett turns back toward her potential victim, the moment of surprise that follows being reserved for herself. The brief sign of life that Scarlett’s demons allowed to slip through its strong, impermeable defence having driven her into action, Vic leaves her feet and charges forward. The element of shock falling in her favour, Vic wraps her arms around Scarlett’s person and tackles her to the ground, its physical boundaries contested as their descent fails to cease. Crashing through the ground, Vic and Scarlett’s existence merely discontinues itself as their souls travel elsewhere, their fight carried into the contorting realities they now unintentionally enter. Just as the many rows of desks at the abrasion’s entrance had, the mezzanine’s halls sit quiet and undisturbed, unaffected by the war that wages through its home as the air settles. = Dream Sequence is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = \ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office - The Motel / Her hand falling atop a bronze call bell, Scarlett leaps back, the rush of air that had been knocked out of her by Vic’s tackle suddenly returned to her lungs, the world around seemingly having rebooted. Frazzled and horrified at the implications that lie ahead, Scarlett’s eyes wander the empty walls that surround her, the floors lined with plain furniture whilst the counter ahead sits vacant, the chair left for those that have the job left uninhabited. “Hello!?” Scarlett shouts, her ears ringing slightly as she leans forward, peering down a hallway lined with doors on either side. Though most rooms sit with the entrances shut, one specific door remains open, an outline of window shutters cascading along the wall as they sit between the open room and a bright, orange light. With more personality than what she’s used to the realm beyond presenting, the motel’s interior clashes with itself, the orange lights that spill through each window somehow incapable of effecting the smokey blue colour that clouds the walls. “Is someone there?” a familiar voice asks with an unfamiliarly soft tone, an obvious confusion carried behind their inquiry. Her attention redirected to the room near the corridor’s end, Scarlett’s guard raises, her attempt at summoning the service dagger she relies on for protection proving ineffective. Pausing for a moment, Scarlett crosses her arms in an effort to surround herself with the cover of a shield, those efforts as unsuccessful as its predecessors. “Are you still there?” the faceless voice calls out once more, growing slightly concerned that a response will never arrive. Forced to move forward without the aid of her powers, Scarlett cautiously steps through the lobby’s hallway, her knees bending slightly as she lowers herself closer to the ground, each step providing her with a better look at what sits within. “Who are you?” the familiar soul inquires, a genuine look of uncertainty covering her face as Scarlett’s crouch eases, her eyes boldening as she stands on the doorway’s other side. Sat at the edge of a king-sized bed with her hands folded and legs crossed, Suzie looks into Scarlett’s eyes with worry, a doubt beginning to slip into her mind. “Are you here to kill me?” Suzie wonders aloud, Scarlett’s unfamiliar appearance striking her not only as odd, but as intimidating, her long-sleeved black shirt and dark black jeans providing an ominous aura “What are you talking about?” Scarlett replies, her voice losing much of its strength as confusion intermingles with her horror. “The woman told me to wait here. She said someone would be by soon to take me” Suzie responds, an awfully convincing innocence carried within her speech. Slowly retreating, Scarlett steps back until her hands graze the wall that stands behind her, finding it hard to breath as she turns to walk away. “Wait! Don’t go!” Suzie blurts out, stretching her hand toward Scarlett in a moment of desperation, the young blonde pausing mid-step at Suzie’s behest. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” the fearful young woman confesses, drawing Scarlett’s attention back as tears begin to fall from her face, the guiltiness that has built within her left with no option other than to pour itself from her heart. “They wouldn’t stop!” Suzie exclaims, her tears having descended into fully-blown waterworks as Scarlett slowly returns to the doorway, clueless as how to respond. “I told them to stop but they wouldn’t stop! I couldn’t get them to stop and I don’t know why!” Suzie continues, pressing her hands against each of her eyes as the strength depletes from her, “I tried to fight it but it just kept hitting me! Every time- it was like a punch to the gut and it never stopped!” “What never sto-?” Scarlett interjects, immediately thinking to ask a question before stopping herself, reconsidering the person she’d come across, “do you know who I am?” Her tearful admission forced to put itself at bay, Suzie looks at the woman stood across from her in silence, trying feverishly to recall Scarlett’s face to no avail. “No” Suzie whimpers, wiping tears from her face as Scarlett unhurriedly enters the room, her hand sliding against the smooth surface of the room’s door. “Should I know you?” Suzie wonders aloud, unable to comprehend the profound look on Scarlett’s face. Sliding her hand against the nearest stack of drawers, Scarlett enters the space just before Suzie’s eyes, the woman seated directly beneath her. “What was the last thing that you remember happening?” Scarlett inquires, refusing to answer the woman’s previous question as greater worries consume her, “before you came here?” Her lip quivering, Suzie continues to wipe her face as she speaks, slowly murmuring the faintest recollections she can muster. “I remember the ghouls. I remember them cheering for me-” Suzie replies, her voice going cold as her eyes trail toward Scarlett’s, a cold chill running down her spine as she glances up, “-calling me their king.” Distancing herself from the woman for a moment, Scarlett steps toward the window and presses one of its many blinds downward with her finger, staring into the foggy glass that cuts the snow-covered ground beyond from the motel’s warm window. “What else do you remember?” Scarlett queries, beginning to find the comparison she’s seemingly meant to draw. “I remember losing control” Suzie responds, her face falling toward the floor as harder memories begin to dawn, “I remember trying to fight until I couldn’t.” Bowing her head, Scarlett thinks quietly to herself, her eyes closing as Suzie falls silent, the tears beginning to run once more. “Do you remember what happened next?” Scarlett questions, hearing the distraught tone in Suzie’s voice take shape as the answer she’d begun to anticipate is given. “I- remember ki-” Suzie stammers, each failed attempt at replying forcing Scarlett’s eyelids closer together, “I killed my brother.” Just as she’d lost one battle, Suzie falls victim to defeat yet again, this time in the quest to keep herself from emotionally collapsing. A steady breath leaving her lungs, Scarlett’s eyes part once more as she steps past Suzie, her departure motivated by a renewed passion. “Where are you going!?” Suzie exclaims, watching Scarlett step through the doorway, her hands held at her sides in a tight fist. “To get myself killed!” Scarlett shouts back confidently, one foot fiercely placed in front of the other as she approaches the front desk, not a moment of pause spent as her knuckles slam into the call bell for the second time. | \ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office - The Motel / “What are you doing here?” Lincoln inquires, his elbows pressing into his thighs as his head turns toward the entrance, surprised to find Vic stood within his presence. “I- I’m not sure” Vic answers, cautiously stepping through the motel’s door as the man’s posture eases, his eyes taking to her presence as she walks through the room freely, “I don’t know how I got here.” His head pulling back, Lincoln pulls his feet against the bed, allowing Vic to step past him on her way toward the window, the snow-covered ground barely visible beneath the foggy air. “I guess that makes two of us” Lincoln coldly replies, paying Vic very little emotional care, “so, are you dead yet or what?” Slightly irritated, Vic fails to be any less than largely captivated by the environment she’s surrounded by, incapable of allowing her anger to assume the fullest control over her. “I’m pretty sure I did. I mean, in the real world” Vic responds, removing her hand from the blinds as she steps closer toward the man she can barely stomach hearing, let alone being within the presence of. “Well, I guess that leads me to assume you’ve made it to the war” Lincoln replies, instantly recognising the curious look on Vic's face when it appears. “Yeah, the great war” Lincoln nods, a half-smile appearing as Vic lowers herself to the unoccupied side of his bed, her elbows digging into the sides of her legs just as Lincoln’s had. “It’s the realm’s big finale. I always liked calling it ‘The Omega’” Lincoln jokes, “the sixth tragedy it never gives you the chance to avoid.” “Then how do I stop it?” Vic interrupts, calmly asking Lincoln the only question she cares to hear an answer to, his apologetic expression providing her with little hope. “We can stop this from happening. Neither of us need to die!” Vic exclaims, her hands wrapping around the collar of Lincoln’s shirt. “Yes, you do!” Lincoln shouts back, shoving Vic’s grasp from his clothing as distance is re-established between them, “Scarlett can try to fight it all she wants, but there’s something in there you just can’t break through to!” “What the fuck does that mean!?” Vic howls, propelling herself from the bed before looking down upon the man, his height no longer a factor in his visual authority. Holding his head in the palm of his hand, Lincoln wipes his brow as he tries to calm himself, steadying his voice just as he steadies his mind. “It means that she’s not Scarlett anymore” the man answers, slowly looking up to Vic, his eyes meeting hers, “the realm’s already sunk its hands into her. She’s a puppet to Mother’s will.” “I’d really appreciate it if you could just answer a question directly without all of this melodrama” Vic sternly replies, continuing to look down upon the room’s eternal occupant. “It means you were chosen- just like I was- to lead the realm. Scarlett- just like Suzie- is supposed to be your very last test” Lincoln clarifies, the side of his hand slamming against his open palm, “force yourself to do what’s necessary- even if you don’t want to- so you can prove that emotions won’t cloud your judgement.” Her mouth closed, Vic listens to Lincoln’s remarks carefully, trying to digest what he says before leaping to disastrous conclusions. “When she gave me a second lease on life, she told me that the greatest weakness humans have is our emotions- they’re as much of a detriment as they are strength” Lincoln continues, “be affected by them too much, and you won’t make the right decisions when they matter. Be affected by them too little, and you’ll be too attached to know what the right decision is.” “But find the sweet spot, and you’ll know what the right decision feels like and what it actually is” Vic finishes the man’s sentence, his refusal to correct her implying her assumption was precise. “If you can kill your best friend- not because you want to, but because you had to- and any decision from there on is a walk in the park” Lincoln concludes, leaning back in his seat as his palms rest against his knees, “it’s vile as much as it is disgustingly true. What choice do you have other than to accept it?” “I can let her kill me” Vic quickly replies, immediately earning a hearty laugh from the man who’d once tormented her with the constant threat of death. “Yeah, because ending up just like Suzie and I is exactly how you want to spend the rest of eternity, right?” Lincoln jokes, his humoured expression beginning to fall as he tries to bring himself to a more empathetic level. “Do you think Suzie wanted to kill me? No. We had our fights, that’s true, but she never wanted to kill me” Lincoln explains, shaking his head as he pauses, “but what took over her? That did.” “Why didn’t you fight back then?” Vic inquires, the subdued amusement behind Lincoln’s face falling the rest of the way as a sincere honesty presents itself. “Because she’s my baby sister” Lincoln answers, a surprisingly heartfelt reply for someone with his history, “for god’s sake, I was trying to keep her safe until the moment I died the second time around. Just imagine how shocked I was when she held me in her arms as I went! For a moment- just a moment- who she really was came back.” Her stomach tightening, Vic listens to Lincoln continue to speak as the room to run away from what truly lies ahead begins to shrink. “I couldn’t bring myself to kill her when Mother gave me the chance, and if I was given another shot, I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing” Lincoln confesses, his fingers snapping toward Vic’s face in an attempt to draw her away from the self-doubt that he can see creep in. “Think of how long Suzie suffered. Think of how long she’d been fighting whatever it was that possessed her without being able to fight back” he continues, drawing Vic back to the empty spot on the bed. “I’m sure Scarlett’s the exact same way right now. I’m sure she’s fighting however she can to not hurt you, but she’s not allowed to win- the realm wont let her. She’s a passenger in her own body now” Lincoln remarks, his eyes held firmly upon Vic’s, “don’t let her suffer like I did.” Pulling himself back, Lincoln opens the floor before himself for Vic to traverse, the sound of the call bell ringing near the motel’s entrance drawing her focus toward the way she’d arrived. “I think you’re needed elsewhere” Lincoln declares, jolting his head toward the room’s entrance. Hiding her appreciation for Lincoln’s advice, Vic bows her head and leaves the bed, her legs carrying her through the open doorway as the call bell rings for a second time. Her body covered in the motel’s blue tint, Vic approaches the desk and extends her hand over the bell, pausing for a moment to collect herself before being forced into writing her final chapter. Nodding to herself, Vic closes her eyes and lets out one final breath, converting her sorrow into fuel for the fire she needs to survive what lies ahead. Her lips pressing together, Vic’s eyes part, her pupils taking to the empty chair ahead of her as fervour spirits consume her. Before she can talk herself into resumed doubt, Vic’s hand swipes through the air, returning to the realm in search of finishing what she and Scarlett had begun with a single, resounding ‘ding’. | \ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office / Thrown from the heavens at identical times, Scarlett and Vic roll through their respective falls with eyes locked on each other, Scarlett’s service dagger resummoned at the threat’s sighting. Mirroring her friend’s display, Vic summons her own dagger, its blade shading the white walls of their broken-walled starting block a conflicting shade of blue, offsetting Scarlett’s red tinge. Swiping through the air, Scarlett’s dagger collides with Vic’s, the brunette’s mighty blade proving its value as Vic launches her offensive. Retreating to sanctuary, Scarlett ascends the steps toward her starting platform, returning to the place the girls’ journey in the realm began. Giving up the high ground, Vic proceeds forward, swiping at Scarlett as she climbs forward, her shield thrown outward in times of momentarily peril, affording her the opportunity at a further swing. Losing both the high ground and room to retreat further, Scarlett caves into the mounting assault, granting Vic access to the platform as she leaps to the next one over. Anticipating a meeting with solid ground, Scarlett’s feet join the rest of her body in falling through Vic’s starting block, transporting to whatever lies ahead. Capitalising on her momentum, Vic follows suit, bracing for impact as she touches upon her own platform, their first encounter with the realm falling in favour of their first true taste of the environment’s awe. Barely given time to prepare, Vic shields herself against a return attack, Scarlett’s dagger bouncing off her transparent orb as Vic quickly shuffles to her feet. A brief duel ensuing, the girls exchange swipes, each attempt on the other’s life met with a block that preserves their opposition’s existence. Leaving the ground, Scarlett takes her attack toward the sky, allowing Vic’s eyes to wander after her where the setting she enters becomes clear, the skylight she’d witnessed the final tragedy’s reveal through resting just over Scarlett’s head. “It’s specific to us” Vic whispers to herself, the realisation suddenly presenting itself to her, “it’s guiding us to the end.” In anticipation of what’s to come, Vic leaves the ground as Scarlett descends at light-speed, tearing through the air as her fist collides with the ground, the realm quaking in each of their directions as the attempt falls short. Pulling out of her three-point pose, Scarlett’s eyes take toward the sky, watching Vic hover overhead without the intention of attacking. Propelling herself higher, Vic ascends the atrium with her hands by her side, shattering through the glass as she advances to the proceeding level. Following the lead exhibited to her, Scarlett tears through the aperture and enters much of the same, the open air now surrounded by concrete floors that simply climb higher, winding upon itself endlessly. Her instincts kicking in at the last moment, Scarlett’s golden locks fly forward as the rest of her body comes to an abrupt halt, barely avoiding the chunk of marble that soars through the air and imbeds itself within the bark of the nearby bonsai tree. Attempting to summon her dagger, Scarlett’s arm pulls back, her body spinning as she levitates above the mezzanine’s abyss in a defiant act of self-surrender. Barely able to reclaim her wits, Scarlett’s possessor turns her focus back toward the levels above at the last moment, Vic’s arms wrapping around her body as she hurdles down from above. Returned to the chasm’s pit, the girls reemerge in the reinforced boardroom, crashing into the floor as they bounce off of each other, rolling into different, unoccupied corners. “Ah, ffuucckk!” Vic groans, bracing for cover as stacked furniture falls from its previously piled form. With the wave of her hand, Vic clears the debris from her path and struggles to her feet, quickly losing her balance as the strength in one of her knees gives out. “Oh fucking hell! Not now!” Vic shouts, summoning her service dagger as she limps forward, prepared for an assault that has yet to be launched. “Get out of my fucking head!” Scarlett exclaims, punching the side of her skull as she violently thrashes, her hands flailing as the tormentors that occupy her vessel struggle to combat the sudden environment. “All hail the king!” the woman growls, again forcing the woman’s soul back to the restraints placed upon her, hands still swinging wildly as the room’s strength loosens its grasp on Scarlett’s body. No longer capable of defending itself adequately, Scarlett resorts to desperate measures, her hands pressing their thumbs into thin air before her arms thrust forward, invisible detonators sent through every corner of the boardroom. As explosions are set off, Vic braces for cover, shielding herself beneath the transparent orb until the sounds of catastrophe cease, signalling a weakening of the spirit she battles against. Her opportunity presenting itself, Vic hobbles away from cover, hurdling herself toward Scarlett as quickly as she can. Tucking her head in, Vic drives her shoulder into her friend’s chest as they near the steps toward the central table, its wooden surface granting them acceptance into the fifth stage. Hitting the ground at the impact they’d carried with them, Vic and Scarlett emerge within the hall of the faceless figures, each pair of eyes watching from their desks as if the brawl were a spectacle for them to enjoy. Clutching the back of her head, Scarlett’s body forces its way up, slightly woozy from the collision with the ground, and somewhat preoccupied by the internal conflict that boils beneath her exterior. With a growl, Vic leaps at the opening made available, her dagger plunging through the air with its tip taken toward Scarlett’s chest. Following through with her swing, Vic falls forward, her dagger’s collision with the ground succeeding no other contact, the snap of Scarlett’s fingers at the last moment removing her from harm. Confused, Vic looks around the room for a brief moment, searching for her target until the sound of Scarlett’s voice captures her attention. “Serve your king!” the woman exclaims, commanding the legion in attendance to finish the bidding she’d begun. Standing from their desks, the feral ghouls turn their focus upon Vic, capitalising on her confusion as they break into a full sprint. Wounded, Vic’s fight remains persistent, the dagger she wields never once fading from her hand, its blue tint colouring the drab space in her image as the final phase of her war commences. Swinging and slashing, Vic carves into decrepit flesh, slicing and dicing through trapped souls that know of no better than what they’re demanded of. Tearing through and splitting apart, Vic’s dagger punctures those that stand in her way, the motion of her hand sweeping the legs from beneath an entire side at her will. Dashing through and scraping past, Vic lines the hall’s with the bodies of those that had once walked it religiously, her command the only prevailing force as the room becomes littered. Pulverising and ploughing ahead, Vic’s dagger falls to her side, the final few grunts that leave her lungs allowing her chest to expand and retract, each breath taken more freely than the last. In no worse condition than when her massacre had been initiated, Vic’s service dagger lifts across her chest as she hobbles around, her eyes taking toward the room’s back. Surviving the best that Scarlett’s possessor has to offer, Vic’s eyes hold a fury that no force beside that of her own can match, the final stage one which she not only needs to win, but knows herself to be capable of just as well. With shock, Vic finds the space Scarlett had occupied to sit empty, the woman’s captor refusing to even pay her disciples the respect of watching their souls be vanquished in her honour. As a cold wind curiously blows over her face, Vic’s eyes take to the room’s corner on instinct alone, widening as they fall upon the fabled set of double doors, the interior that hides behind them exposed to offer the realm entrance. “Get out of my fucking head!” Scarlett exclaims, violently throwing her body into the various mantles the line the never-ending corridor she walks within, its halls presenting the only detail the realm contains within its entirety. “All-!” Scarlett exclaims, steadying herself before once more falling off-balance, the woman’s trapped soul shattering glass as she willingly wounds herself, trying to disarm her body of its capabilities. “All hail the king!” Scarlett demonically howls, finally regaining control of herself as her progression forward halts, the sound of a voice in her near distance prompting the bulbs over each display case to illuminate. “Hey!” Vic screams, provoking Scarlett’s face into turning back, affording her the chance to watch the woman hobble forward, the hall she’d become familiar with from the midst of delusions having presented itself in its true, physical form. “I’m not finished with you” Vic growls, her service dagger glowing an even brighter shade of blue as Scarlett faces her, a flurry of scorching flames piercing through the dagger’s blade as their last stand commences. Leaving her feet, Vic flies through the air with her blade in tow, Scarlett’s reaction nothing less than an exact duplicate. Their daggers slashing together, the girls trade attacks and counters at will, each swipe met with a block just as each slash is met with an impediment. The sound of their weapons’ buzzing whipping past their ears with each plunge, Scarlett and Vic deal blows until the first sign of weakness presents itself, the soul confined with Scarlett’s body proving a tougher challenge than what the realm has seen before. “Get out!” Scarlett shouts, relinquishing her dagger as quickly as her captor reclaims it, flashing shades of red light reflected in each untouched pane of glass as Scarlett’s soul tries to sabotage herself. “All- Get- All hail-! Get out-!” Scarlett demands, the prevalent force within her switching with each sentence as Vic dashes forward. “All hail the king!” the realm screams, momentarily recovering from the obstruction at the last possible moment, Scarlett’s hand thrusting forward just as Vic prepares to deal the final blow. Her service dagger relinquished by force, Vic’s body powerfully jolts back, slamming into the ground before dragging itself to a slow and painful stop, the toll of their civil war finally beginning to settle in. “Vic, get up!” Scarlett exclaims, resuming the battle for control of Scarlett’s body as it marches forward, approaching Vic’s prone body just as the brunette begins coming to. “All hail- Vic, use-!” Scarlett exclaims, watching Vic struggle to a fighting stance, falling to one knee as her strength depletes, Scarlett’s detainer continuing to draw near. “Your paradox!” Scarlett exclaims, her desperate tone finally catching Vic’s eye, reigniting the fire that holds her together. Expending the last of her will to offer Vic her key, Scarlett’s last bit of fight wanes, granting sole custody of her control to the being that has installed itself within her directive. “All hail the king!” Scarlett screams, resummoning her service dagger with nothing left to stand in her way, Vic’s injured body sat beneath her on its last legs. Throwing her arms forward, Vic snaps her fingers at the last moment, her service dagger relinquished as time winds to a close. Driving her blade through the air, Scarlett’s might proves too formidable to overcome, Vic’s chest slashed through with ease as quickly as it had taken her to return to her feet. Her chest a grizzly sight, Vic’s eyes widen in awe as she falls to her knees, her brain yet to process that her moment of last-ditch hope came a simple moment too soon. Hands hung by her side, Vic’s palm slowly lifts to her chest as her chin is taken into Scarlett’s hand, the blonde’s jailer guiding Vic’s face toward her own. Her bold red eyes looking into Vic’s, Scarlett’s lips begin to part, her triumph not only assured, but mere seconds away. Her face drawing closer, Scarlett’s voice attempts to lower into a whisper, her eyes kept on Vic’s defeated expression until events turn strange. Her appearance turning fuzzy, Vic’s wounded person begins to glitch, short-circuiting like a hologram before Scarlett is prompted to back away, her hand leaving Vic’s chin. Glancing to her wound, Vic’s eyes soon take back toward Scarlett’s with a smile across her face. “All hail the king” Vic’s carbon copy replies, rapidly fading out of existence in a profoundly bewildering turn of events. Realising her victory to have been feigned, Scarlett’s instincts resume control of her actions, the woman’s head turning back as her fatal mistake becomes clear. Knowing she’d won before the blow can be dealt with a tear in her eye, Vic’s true form takes Scarlett’s shoulder into one hand whilst the dagger plunges through the woman with the other, piercing Scarlett’s chest before emerging through her back. Relinquishing her weapon, Vic’s hands wrap around the blonde as she falls to her knees, sobbing as Scarlett’s chin rests into the soft part of her neck. “I’m sorry! I’m so- so sorry” Vic exclaims, her right hand holding the back of Scarlett’s head as the woman falls the rest of the way to the ground, gently guiding her to a stop as Scarlett’s red eyes fade, the whites in her eyes quickly turning yellow. Her lip quivering, Scarlett’s left hand rests on Vic’s arm as her right rests against the side of her friend’s face. Looking the mortally wounded woman in the eyes, Vic watches Scarlett struggle to speak, stumbling over her words with a relieved smile. “I- I don’t f- feel” Scarlett whimpers, her voice softening as a tear streams down the side of her face, “I don’t feel any pain.” Sharing Scarlett’s pain-soaked chuckle, Vic’s face trembles as the sorrow consumes her, the girls’ eyes holding to each other until their last moments have passed. Swiping Scarlett’s hair away from her face, Vic’s face descends into disrepair, the grief overwhelming her as Scarlett’s soul gets the last laugh. “We almost made it” Scarlett whispers, trying to smile her way through the fear of what’s to come, “so damn close, huh?” Pulling Scarlett close, Vic holds Scarlett in her embrace, keeping her tight until the very end, their company shared with the other in the lone bright spot the grey, lifeless walkway can offer. “I’m gonna miss you” Vic weeps as Scarlett’s lips press against her ear, her tearful laughter the only thing keeping Vic’s final strands of composure from falling apart. “You don’t need me now that you have a kingdom” Scarlett jokes, locking eyes with her friend as their faces take to each other’s, Vic’s eyes watching Scarlett’s face ease as her time elapses. “I love you, sis” Scarlett whimpers, her eyes beginning to weaken as the reaper guides her to the pearly gates. “I love you too, sis” Vic whimpers, her lips pressing against Scarlett’s forehead as the woman’s life empties. Passing with a smile, Scarlett’s final breath grants Vic her effort’s justification, forgiveness offered in a warm wrapping beneath the weight of her final remark. “All hail King Vic” Scarlett whispers, dying in her sister’s arms as the illustrious corridor lightens, the dark chambers bestowing the realm with an angelic glow. The realm’s brutalist-inspired, nondescript interior given new life, Vic’s realm presents a new side to itself, each smooth, glossy, uninspired surface adorned with personality. As if more than just an alternative realm of existence, the eternal office prevails through the bleak standard it had set for itself. As drab walls gain colour, lost souls are returned to their mortal bodies, their ability to speak and think freely returned, released from the shackles of purgatory under Vic’s liberation. Pulling away from the kiss she’d left Scarlett’s head with, Vic’s eyes travel to what rests behind her, slowly looking over her shoulder. Pressing her eyelids together, Vic looks back to her sister’s lifeless face, the woman’s body gently laid back to the ground as Vic’s hands slide out from beneath her. “I love you” Vic whispers again, closing Scarlett’s eyelids so the woman can finally find the peace she’s long searched for, “goodbye.” Keeping herself from hyperventilating, Vic struggles back to her feet and crosses Scarlett’s arms across her chest, the corridor’s entrance soon filling with the slow approach of the reclaimed souls she now presides over. Forced to turn away, Vic’s attention rests on what lies ahead, the coronation she was promised no longer impeded. Leaving Scarlett’s side, Vic approaches the steps to her destiny, climbing to their pinnacle before turning back to face the crowd, taking in what rests before her and what it cost to oversee it. Silent, Vic rests her hands upon two large, stone-carved armrests before taking in a deep breath, only releasing it when she’s claimed her honour. With an audience watching over her, Vic assumes control of the realm beyond with a deep sigh, occupying her seat on the throne for the very first time as king. Dropping to their knees, the avenged mortals lift a fist toward the sky, their devotion paid to their new ruler. “All hail the king!” the crowd shouts. “All hail the king!” the horde roars. “All hail the king!” the throng screams. “All hail the king!” the flock bellows. “All hail the king!” the legion howls. With a single tear running down the side of her face, Vic’s eyes return to Scarlett’s body, her face still overtaken with emotion she’s forced herself to hide. Listening to the crowd roar, Vic allows them their moment of unity as she dwells on the journey she leaves behind, unable to consider the reward to be worth the loss. Shaking her head as her bottom lip is pressed between her teeth, Vic lowers her voice to a whisper only she can hear, her eyes still refusing to depart from her sister. “Long live the King” Vic sighs. == Dream Sequence ==
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\ Realm of Reality /
“Why the fuck does it have to be so cold!?” Scarlett exclaims, climbing into the passenger seat of Vic’s truck as she resides beneath a pile of coats bundled atop her. “Because it’s Switzerland, what did you expect it to be?” Vic responds with less vigour, handling the frigid temperatures with more grace than her blonde counterpart, “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but we’re not in the Maldives anymore.” Rolling her eyes, Scarlett nods her head as she removes the gloves from her pale hands, holding her palms against the vehicle’s ventilation unit as cold air gradually turns warmer. “Yeah, leave it to Lincoln to ruin another good thing for us from the fucking grave” Scarlett grumbles, fastening herself into the seat as Vic sits idle, letting the car warm as her head rests against the back of her seat, the sides of her face as red as her nose. “Are we gonna get going?” Scarlett asks, staring out at the vast array of mountain peaks just beyond their windshield, their stowaway home occupying a mountaintop of their own. “Let the car warm up first- I’ve barely thawed out!” Vic humorously quips, flashing Scarlett a smile as her hands rub gently together, her dark strands of hair blown back as her vents blow hot air over her frostbitten face. Sitting quietly for a moment, the girls settle into their seats, growing more relaxed as the minutes pass, almost forgetting the reason they’d entered the vehicle. “You never told me where you grew up” Scarlett remarks, her head turning toward Vic as the statement leaves her lips. Her lips forming a smile, Vic glances back toward the mountains for a moment before replying, the warm air that trickles over the sides of her face provides a welcoming atmosphere. “Washington- the state, not the capital” Vic answers, pushing further into the headrest as she nestles into the seat, “we moved to Georgia when I was ten, and Louisiana when I was fifteen.” Gently nodding, Scarlett glances through the windshield as a brief pause fills the air, each second that passes without the sound of a voice being spent in a comforting silence. “What about you?” Vic whispers, her voice sharing the same presentation as Scarlett’s the longer they speak, each girl’s tone softening. “I was born and raised just outside of New Orleans” Scarlett answers, her arms wrapped around her chest as she hugs herself, kept warm by thick layers of winter apparel. “I had family that lived in Minnesota, and relatives that lived in Hawai’i” Scarlett continues, an ingenuine frown finding its way to her face, “unfortunately, we weren’t ever really close with the relatives in Hawai’i.” Laughing through her nose, Vic’s hand takes to the gearshift and pulls the truck out of their parkway. “I knew the family on my mom’s side better than my dad’s, but that’s not really saying much” Vic confesses, Scarlett’s hand pulling the lever to tilt her seat back as her friend continues, “that’s probably the biggest reason I chose to lay low after what happened.” Eyes kept on the road, Vic swipes hair from her face with her free hand as Scarlett goes quiet, thinking to herself. “You got all of the death out of the way early, huh?” Scarlett queries, a downcast reflection in her voice, “it’s a pretty morbid way of getting lucky, ain’t it?” The liveliness in her eyes slowly fading, Vic shakes her head, tightening her grip on the steering wheel’s rubber covering. “We both got fucked over” the driver replies, prompting Scarlett’s head to turn toward her, “we’ve lost people that we shouldn’t have. The most important thing is that we’re here now- it’s that we survived it.” Passing a look toward Scarlett, Vic finds her friend’s expression unchanged, disconnected from the favourable light Vic had taken toward. “But the question is- for how much longer?” Scarlett responds, watching Vic briefly turn in her direction once more, the dark-haired driver returning her sights to the road ahead. “The worst part of it all is that I don’t think I have survived” Scarlett admits, speaking openly whilst Vic listens in, somewhat convinced that she’s meant to. “My parents, my friends, my home- both of them- they’re all gone” Scarlett recalls, her eyes trailing toward her lap, where the knuckles on her hands gently tap against each other, “I can’t stop blaming myself for letting it happen. It’s like I doubt that I can keep doing this for much longer.” “What do you mean by that?” Vic soon queries, her hands held on opposite ends of the wheel’s top. “I mean just that. I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this” Scarlett responds, little hesitancy in her remarks before they’re made, as if she’d already come to accept the predicament for which she braves. “I think about what we’re up against every day. I think about it when I wake up, and I think about it when I go to bed” Scarlett continues, “I can’t live without remembering that, whenever it happens-” “Then you need to stop thinking about that!” Vic explains, her voice raising from its whispered tone as she abruptly cuts Scarlett short. “We’re here! We’re here, and we’re alive even if we shouldn’t be” Vic follows on, her glances in Scarlett’s direction becoming more frequent, “yes- you’re right- we’ve lost shit-ton to make it this far, but we’ve done it! And more importantly, we still have each other! That literally cannot change until the very-fucking-end, do you understand me?” The question left unanswered, Vic slows the truck ahead of a hairpin turn before setting the vehicle into park, overlooking the sights of snow-covered trees along the Alps’ steep, downward slopes. “I asked you a question!” Vic repeats, her elbow pressing into the centre console as she looks Scarlett in the eyes, the passenger’s uncertain expression reciprocating the gesture, “it’s us until the end, do you understand me?” “How can I not!?” Scarlett quickly shouts, a fair question for the fate that awaits them at such an aforementioned end, “it’s ‘us until the end’ until it’s ‘us or the end’- what do you think I’m kept up at night by!?” Her head hung, Vic sits back in her sight, eyes taking to the road ahead as Scarlett continues, her words tapping a nerve Vic conceals as best she can. “Vic, I love you like family just like you do, but we can’t keep dancing around the inevitable!” Scarlett exclaims, Vic’s eyes gradually turning toward her own, “however the realm makes its decision, it’s going to get what it wants. It doesn’t want you and I, it wants one or the other. Please, tell me, how am I supposed to be sure of anything?” “Scarlett-” Vic remarks, grimacing as her dominant hand rests over the steering wheel’s top, interrupting herself without more to add, unsure of how to respond. “You can’t. You can sit there and be mad at me for as long as you want, but you can’t tell me-” Scarlett continues, watching Vic’s head bow for a moment as the car quiets, filled with Scarlett’s voice until the moment Vic’s grows louder, capturing the power from the passenger’s own. “Because I’m not going to kill you!” Vic screams, her face filling with anger at a moment’s notice, the muscles in her arms more defined as Scarlett falls silent. “Because I never wanted this! Because I don’t care about being king- or whatever the fuck the realm wants from us!” Vic pushes onward, her tone never dropping an ounce, “because I wanted to live a good life and die! That’s all I ever wanted! There’s nothing the realm can give me that would make me want to kill you for it!” Her lips pressing together tightly, Scarlett looks into Vic’s face, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes watery, the tears that wish to fall being refused the chance to. “If the two of us are gonna kill each other over some stupid-fucking--throne, I don’t want it!” Vic finishes, her screams having fallen to a more audible growl as she simmers down, “all I ask is that you make it painless so I don’t have to be afraid when I go- is that good enough to be sure of, Scar!?” Lip quivering, Scarlett watches Vic settle back into her seat, her breaths calming as she reaches for the gear shift, prepared to put the car in drive. Resting her hand against the spherical knob between them, Vic’s hand feels the touch of another prevent her from moving a muscle, Scarlett’s palm resting against her dorsal. “I don’t want it either” Scarlett replies, her voice remarkably lower than the one Vic had spoken with. “I couldn’t have asked to go through this with anyone other than you. It’s been hard and really fucking tragic, but I still don’t want it to end” Scarlett confesses, visibly distressed as her chest grows tight, “but- if it does- please, just do the same?” Her eyes lowering, Vic feels the weight of their admission settle in, unsure if she’d ever remembered fully allowing herself to accept what future had awaited them. Her friend’s hand turning over, Vic’s palm graces Scarlett’s, their fingers wrapping around the other’s hand. “I promise” Vic answers, not only speaking without certainty over how else to respond, but with a genuine willingness to provide Scarlett with the end she desires being met with. Nodding, Scarlett covers her mouth for a moment as she calms her disposition, her opposite hand squeezing Vic’s tightly. “So do-” Scarlett answers, her body violently jolting forward as Vic’s leaves the driver’s seat entirely, the air filling with the sickening twist of metal colliding with a similar framework. Their truck providing a second, less-damaged car with an unfortunate blockade to keep it from falling off the road, Vic and Scarlett discover themselves to be less fortunate. Their hands forced apart, the rate at which their truck slams into the ground and rolls along the Alp-slopes ferociously rips Vic’s body through the shattered window, Scarlett’s entangled person held to the tumbling confines by the strap of her seatbelt. Skipping through the air before colliding with rugged terrain once more, the truck rolls for as long as the mountain’s declivity lasts, all that exists to cease its descent being the ground below. Her mind scattered, Scarlett’s body takes enough of a beating to twist her understanding of the sudden chaos, the strikes to her head and whiplash of her ordeal taking a few, drawn-out moments to fully render her unconscious. With gruelling force, the vehicle’s carcass crashes into the rocky ground below, wrapping around sturdy tree trunks and shredding its own remains apart along solid stones. Resembling nothing short of a horrifying mess of mechanical engineering and human error, the truck’s corpse finally slows to a stop, entombing itself in the natural makeup of the mountain itself, its odds of ever being able to travel once more snuffed just as the lives of its occupants are. = Dream Sequence is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = \ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office / Her eyes shooting open as she draws in a deep breath, Vic’s sight lay upon a blinding light that force her eyelids shut, a sight all-too similar to one she’s seen before presenting itself yet again. “Hello!?” Vic exclaims, her mind wanting to push her body forward, though her ability to do so evades her, the hands that rest by her sides as immobilised as the rest of her body. “Vic!?” Scarlett exclaims, the woman’s voice seemingly emerging from the position beside her, though the muscles in her neck refuse to allow her head rotation. “Scar, I’m here!” Vic exclaims, wincing in pain the louder her voice is forced to be, the heavenly white light that drowns the mid-2000’s era office space proving less than optimal. “I can’t see you!” Scarlett exclaims, struggling just as Vic does to achieve similar results, the rigid, statue-esque posture they’ve been forced into proving impossible to break from. “Get ready girls” a distant voice remarks, prompting the pearly lights to fade into a menacing shade of red, the ground beginning to rumble as deja vu comes upon them. “Shit! Vic! This is just like that first night!” Scarlett exclaims, the quaking ground increasing in its rapidity as the girls recall what rages ahead. “It’s coming” the echoing voice remarks, its sound carried through the dark red halls with an ominously quiet tone. “Don’t struggle!” Vic calls back, releasing her tense hold on fighting the realm’s restraints, her body going limp as her mind shares the same course as Scarlett’s, easing with the thought of freedom preserved. “Get ready, girls” the voice calls out once more, provoking the realm into shuddering with greater intensity. Their binds removed, Scarlett and Vic’s feet land upon trembling freedom, their balance gained through instinct as their eyes take to the intact wall just ahead. “Scar!” Vic exclaims, providing her friend with the answer to their ongoing issue as she leaves the ground, taking to the air as Scarlett soon follows. As a unit, the girls prepare for what lies ahead, their hands balling into fists as they set their sights upon the ground, waiting for the premier opportunity to present itself. His skin glistening beneath the ruby-coloured lights, the familiar beast tears through the walls and marches on, his targets already privy to his impending entry. In unison, Scarlett and Vic descend upon the ground, their fist colliding with the featureless tiled floors as a wave courses through the realm. Swiping his hands through the air, the beast aims his attack wildly, unable to gauge the women’s positions as his wits are dishevelled. Their service dagger summoned, Vic and Scarlett pierce the glow of their incompatible blue weapons through the beast’s rough flesh, refusing to stop until the last of its life leaves its body, the fight he had entered with depleted in its entirety. Their butchering set aside, Vic and Scarlett catch their breath as their weapons are relinquished, hands placed on their knees as their faces meet, their persons separated by the large corpse between them. “What happened up there?” Vic inquires, barely able to remember much aside from her head slamming into the truck’s roof, “are- are we-?” “Don’t even say it” Scarlett responds, setting herself upright as she wipes at her brow, the headache she’d recalled having quickly vanishing. The room falling silent, Vic and Scarlett struggle to make peace with what they’ve come to believe had just happened, unsure of how to react to it. “We need to find Esotera” Scarlett remarks, leading the charge down the nearest hall, following the same path she’d remembered taking in the first few days. | \ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office / Their initial red scheme lessening into a dark shade of pink, the realm’s lights appear as odd as the encounter it’d presented its keepers with. “I know this is probably the last thing I should be concerned with, but I really hope this lighting isn’t a permanent thing” Scarlett remarks, trying to bring light to an otherwise disturbing situation, “I already know I have a vagina, and I’m not so sure I need this place reminding me of that.” Rolling her eyes, Vic remains quiet, wanting to share the high-spirit in Scarlett’s attempt at diffusing the situation, though can’t bring herself to do so. “Esotera!” Vic exclaims, finally joining Scarlett in uncovering familiar sights. With a gentle push, Vic and Scarlett step through the double doors they’d grown so accustomed to, the desk-filled room with faceless employees sat behind them embracing their presence with one caveat. With her hands by her sides, Esotera stands in the room’s centre, staring at the back wall as the girls enter, immediately recognising her upon their entry. “Hey, what’s going on!?” Scarlett inquires, stepping further ahead of Vic as she questions the woman, concerned by their guidance’s slow turn and silent demeanour. Silent, Esotera looks to the girls with a smile, the faceless figurines that work diligently behind her guiding their attention to Vic and Scarlett immediately upon the emergence of her perfectly white teeth. “Right on time” Esotera murmurs softly, Scarlett’s progression stopping upon the sound of the spirit’s voice a few metres ahead of her partner. Her eyes narrowing, Vic stares into Esotera’s eyes and notices something odd, the absence of character, even for the standard of existence Esotera had set herself forward as, strikes her as off. “Scarlett, get back” Vic mutters, stealing her friend’s focus momentarily, the command confusing Scarlett as soon as it’s uttered. Though unintentional, Scarlett refuses to obey Vic’s orders, her head instead turning back to take a second look at their guardian’s face, its lack of emotion noticeable upon a second look. As Esotera’s eyes take to Scarlett’s own, the blonde gazes toward, inspecting the being with a high level of curiosity, almost enchanted by the mystique that she appears to be plagued by. “What are you?” Scarlett suddenly murmurs beneath her breath, finding it impossible not to question the presentation Esotera has laid before them. Without any reason to ask the question, Scarlett allows it to leave her lips, an instinctual doubt having come over her. Her smile only widening, Esotera responds with a gesture, the hands she hangs by her side now lifting to her chest, her open palms pressing together as her sights remain upon the foremost woman. Her soft, synthetic skin wrinkling, Esotera’s appearance begins to soften, lessening until her eyes and nose seal up, the teeth she presents eroding until all that remains is the cracked lips around her mouth. Mumbling empty remarks to themselves, Vic and Scarlett step away, not entirely convinced that what they reside within is the reality they’ve always known. “It has now begun” Esotera proclaims, her true profile having now revealed itself, the faceless personnel behind her standing at her attention, her role as the girls’ guardian having concluded as she resumes her position as Mother to the realm. On command, the pinkish lights turn white, the walls remaining as empty as they had stood before, all within the realm returned to its normal state. “You’re Mother!?” Scarlett angrily questions aloud, her hands balling into fists as they rest by her side, Vic’s manner assuming an entirely different display as her back presses into the double doors, a look of betrayal worn in her face. “I am whomever I’m needed to be” Mother responds, taking a step forward as her body dawns a long, black robe. Infuriated, Scarlett summons her service dagger, presenting it toward Mother as a symbolic display of intimidation, one which does not phase the realm’s truest overseer. “Your act of defiance will not gain you access to anything of importance” Mother warns, stepping further toward the enraged blonde as her tone begins to echo. “I don’t care what it will or won’t do-” Scarlett replies, steadying it’s aim toward Mother’s throat without consideration over what’s at stake, “-you’re gonna pay for what you’ve done.” “And what exactly have I done?” Mother quickly combats, the strength of speech used to wage war on Scarlett’s outlook. Without an answer, Scarlett remains adamant in her quest for conflict, keeping silent as Mother approaches. “I’ve chosen the two of you to prove your worth to this realm. I’ve given you chances to prove yourselves worthy and unworthy all the same” Mother explains, “I’ve set the board for you to play on- every move that’s been made thus far has been your own.” Her service weapon relinquished, Scarlett stares down Mother with an expression filled with no less anger than what she’d held prior. “What was all of this for?” Vic finally speaks up, redirecting the attention of those that stand ahead of her toward herself, “we’ve told Esotera- or you- how little we wanted this countless times. You have seven billion people to choose from, and you picked two that never wanted this. Why?” The corners of her lips forming a smile, Mother steps past Scarlett, approaching Vic with little concern over how her blonde counterpart would react. “Haven’t you ever wondered why dictatorships and kingdoms have fallen? Why the strongest of forces crumble just like any other?” Mother asks aloud, her head tilting toward one side as she draws nearer, “the people that want such power, or the people they leave it in the hands of, never use it for the greater good.” “So you force us- two people that don’t want it- to fight to the death for it?” Scarlett quickly speaks up, re-earning Mother’s attention, “that’s a pretty shitty rule of thumb to choose your next leader with.” Her lips pressing together, Mother turns her back to Vic once more. “The two of you want it for different reasons- you just don’t know it yet” Mother replies, her face guided toward the tile Scarlett stands upon, “that is where your moves are made.” As her remark concludes, Mother’s head bows, the ground that Scarlett stands upon giving out with no warning provided, allowing the woman to descend toward whatever fate resides below. “Scar-!” Vic exclaims, unable to finish uttering the woman’s name before Mother summons a service weapon of her own, its point held toward Vic’s throat. “She’s alive and you’ll see her again” Mother warns, returning her attention to Vic’s face as the young brunette stares at her angrily. “Do yourself a favour and try to fathom what is at stake” Mother pleads with a frail voice, her dagger relinquished to the realm she presides over, “consider everything you’d known Christoper and Suzanne’s struggles to be and question whether or not you want that for yourself.” “Scarlett and I are not going to kill each other to control your fucking realm” Vic stubbornly refuses, her voice lowering a slight amount as she speaks with confidence. “Yes, you will” Mother replies, the control she has over the conversation itself proving the authority she wields. “Regardless of whether or not you accepted it, I’ve told you how all of this would end” Mother recalls, “the difference in your colours, the shortening of your name- I even put you in the literal driver’s seat!” Her face inching closer, Mother presents her empty face to the woman, her trust left in Vic’s possession. “You’ve seen what happens when I don’t approve of the person that sits upon my throne, do you really want that to be the life Scarlett lives?” Mother queries, her head pulling a slight amount from Vic’s face. “Scarlett’s not corrupted anymore. Her dagger glows blue, you’ve seen it- you know this” Vic counters, cut off before another word can leave her lips. “How do you know she won’t be corrupted by the next time you see her?” Mother answers, the question pulling Vic’s spirits further beyond the chasm they’ve fallen into, “how do you know this isn’t where your stories are meant to end?” Stuttering over her words, Vic finds herself unable to speak with any further coherence, the question Mother asks proving too difficult to answer. “Christopher wasn’t after the power when he and Suzanne collided” Mother reveals, her hand allowed to rest upon Vic’s shoulder as the brunette sheds a tear, “one was after clemency- the other was after control.” Lip quivering, Vic’s attempt at speaking is interrupted, a pair of doors opening in the back of the room captivating her. “Vic?” Mother whispers, returning the young woman’s attention to her as the unspoken question remains unanswered. “Do you understand?” Mother qualms, her chin raised toward Vic’s, the blank facade she presents returning to the familiar features she’d known Esotera to have. Wiping a tear from her face, Vic looks Esotera in the eyes, answering the woman’s question with one of her own. “What do you need from me?” Vic queries, watching Esotera’s smile re-emerge, the spirit’s head bowing as the floor gives out, releasing Vic into whatever lays below. | \ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office / “I am not listening to you!” Scarlett shouts, verbally combatting Suzie’s rhetoric as best she can, the brilliant blue hue of the service dagger she wields held in the apparition’s presence. “You’ve said it yourself- you’ve questioned yourself more with every person that dies!” Suzie exclaims, the only colour in her appearance being the dark, red glow in her blank eyes, “can you really trust yourself at a time like this!?” “Vic is not gaslighting me- you are!” Scarlett shouts, her dagger’s point drawing closer to Suzie with every line of dialogue spoken. “I’m not the one that just got you killed! I’m not the one that’s controlled you ever since we met! For as evil as you make me out to be, I’ve only ever been honest with you!” Suzie exclaims, matching the shouting tone behind Scarlett’s voice, “I was only ever out to redeem myself, and I’d do anything to take the throne!” Readied for war, Scarlett rests the point in Suzie’s direction, her feet carrying her back so as to gain separation. “Think about what’ll happen to you if you don’t take that throne, Scarlett” Suzie furthers, her voice dropping a few octaves as their feet begin to circle, the abrasion that sits in the distance providing a backdrop to the altercation. “Is this really what you want for yourself?” Suzie inquires, her hand waving toward the ground, presenting Scarlett with a detailed look at her hologram-like appearance, “do you want to spend eternity trapped here? A life of torture and agony in a forever-purgatory just because you didn’t have the nerve to lose one more person?” Scowling, Scarlett goes silent, her face falling as she conceals the fear Suzie’s claim strikes within her, the look in her eyes proving the effort futile. “Can’t you understand why I’d fight Chris just to stay alive? To rule this realm even though I was explicitly told it wouldn’t welcome me? It’s because I had the same hope that you have” Suzie explains, her encirclement stopping as they return to their initial places, Scarlett’s back directed toward the abrasion. “I believed- up until the very last minute- that I’d be fine with Chris putting me down. I didn’t want to kill my brother- I had to” Suzie explains, “your dagger may shine blue, but there’s still red in your heart- and that will never go away.” “I’ve changed” Scarlett quickly responds, the confidence in her voice having fallen, the self-doubt she’s tried to set aside slowly beginning to creep toward the surface. “You’ve changed, but you haven’t changed enough” Suzie replies, casually stepping forward as Scarlett’s guard raises, “and when push comes to shove, you’ll find yourself in the same shoes as me. You’ll have let that weakness inside of you- those imperfections- you’ll have let them take everything.” Closing her mouth, Scarlett stares into Suzie’s void eyes, the apparition’s soul appearing as incapable of being trusted as it had whilst alive. “All hail the king” a legion chants, each member sat behind their collective desks with their sights set upon the blonde woman, Scarlett’s head shaking as they chant. “I’ve seen it first hand, there’s still a fire behind those ocean eyes” Suzie murmurs, again presenting Scarlett with the horde’s chant, “prove to Mother that you deserve the throne!” “All hail the king!” the legion exclaims once more, forcing Scarlett’s guard to descend, her dagger growing pale as she swipes at Suzie’s apparition, its presence vanishing as the swarm persists. “All hail the king!” the mob cheers, forcing Scarlett to relinquish her dagger as her hands cup each side of her head. “No!” Scarlett shouts back, her voice nowhere loud enough to convince the legion’s chant to cease. “All hail the king!” the pack screams, prompting Scarlett to shake her head as her eyes press closely together, no amount of pressure she places to each side of her head is able to drown out even the slightest amount of noise. “All hail the king!” the flock hiss, forcing Scarlett to her knees as the pressure mounts, the veins in her forehead visible beneath her skin. “I’m not your king!” Scarlett screams, the top of her head pressing hard into the ground as the howls persist. “All hail the king!” the army proclaims as Scarlett’s teeth press together, the will to vanquish her tormentors lessening with each chant, her breaking point beginning to near. “All hail the king!” the herd bellows as the ground begins to shake, Scarlett’s struggle bending to their will as they seek out her destruction. “All hail the king!” legion declare, standing from their seats as Scarlett leaves the ground, ascending through the air as her voice outmatches each of those that reside beneath her. “SILENCE!” Scarlett commands, bringing the crowd to a standstill as she drops to the ground, landing in the three-point pose as her head faces the ground, the touch of a hand against her shoulder receiving her undivided attention. “I never misjudged” Mother remarks, vanishing as quickly as she had arrived as a pair of feet fall from the heavens, colliding with the ground just as the rest of her body does. Rolling through the impact, Vic takes a quick glance through the room she’d been hurled into, her sights first taking upon the createrous abrasion she stands just before the entrance to. “What the-!? Scar!?” Vic momentarily questions in silence, her freedom from Mother allowing her mind to return to the task at hand. With a simple turn, Vic rests her sights upon the room’s opposite end, the curious outline of a figure in the near distance immediately drawing her interest. “Scarlett!” Vic exclaims, taking off in a sprint toward the woman before her progress halts, her hopeful expression falling into curiosity upon her friend’s rejoinder. Her hands held at her side, Scarlett stares into the distance as Vic’s scurry halts, the sound of her name’s calling prompting her to gradually turn around. Her blonde locks shining brilliantly beneath the drab bureau, her eyes shining a demonic red as her face meets Vic’s. Silent, Scarlett takes a few steps forward, her weaknesses replaced with impenetrable strengths, the perfection the realm had wished for Scarlett to take herself now forced upon her. “Scarlett, what happened to you!?” Vic exclaims, matching her friend’s progression with retreat, one step backward taken for each step Scarlett takes forward. “I’m sorry, Vic” Scarlett responds, visibly struggling at times to move forward, almost as if a second force, more buried than the one she appears with, desperately tries to assume control. “Scarlett, don’t do this” Vic warns, leaving the ground as she hovers back, drawing closer to the abrasion without yet becoming aware of it. “I can’t end up like the rest” Scarlett responds, leaving the ground to join Vic mid-air, the distance quickly closing as Vic takes notice of the danger she nears. Her face scrunching, Scarlett spots her opportunity, extending her dominant hand whilst lunging through the air, her sights set upon the brunette. “All hail the king!” Scarlett shouts, slamming into Vic as their dominant hands take each other by the throat, the momentum carrying them through the abrasion as they re-emerge on whatever rests beyond its borders. Left standing without a leader, the legion stare toward the portal-like crevasse, the room they occupy as empty and lifeless as it had been prior to the girls’ arrival, the realm’s status quo resuming as if the moment of truth it had set in motion hadn’t just been initiated. == Dream Sequence == \ Realm of Reality /
“Back away from the premises this instant!” a general exclaims, standing at the forefront of his unit with a bullhorn in hand, the angry mob that stands before him, some waving fists in the air. Surging forward, an armoured cavalcade moves toward the unit, its progression moving sluggishly as the vehicle advances, its path largely blocked by the hostile mass impeding its furtherance. “This is fucking absurd” Scarlett murmurs, she and Vic having sought the comfort of a nearby set of bushes, concealing their identities as the group holds firm, refusing to let the convoy through. “I think releasing the video is even more absurd” Vic responds, her hands shuffled away to the sanctuary of her back pockets as she kneels toward the ground, her knee pressing into soft dirt, “this is the kind of thing that can cause a revolt.” “Yeah- that’s why I don’t think they did” Scarlett quickly responds, lowering herself close to the ground as Vic’s face gazes into hers. “Well, who else would have gotten it?” Vic queries, her eyes wandering back to the mass collective gathered at the troops’ borders, “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a news helicopter- it would have gotten out by now, wouldn’t it have?” “I saw the wreckage when we took that first shot at him, it wasn’t” Scarlett retorts, her left hand draped against her bent left knee, “but that doesn’t mean it was the police’s call to put the video out there.” Her head shaking, Vic thinks quietly for a moment before taking Scarlett by the wrist, her right hand snapping its first three digits together as they evacuate the once-quiet town. “Who else could have done it?” Vic inquires, leaving her knee as she steps through the parlour of their Maldives villa, approaching the set of sliding doors near the room’s back. “The only people that would have a motive to do it would be some anarchist looking to set fires and walk away” Vic proceeds, stepping onto the terrace as Scarlett slowly follows, her hands swatting at her jeans’ stained left knee, “and I have my doubts that Lincoln or Suzie managed this from the grave.” Tucked behind her ears, Scarlett’s long, blonde locks flow in the wind as she joins her friend upon their Arabian Sea overlook. “Does it matter at this rate?” Scarlett raises the question, her sights setting upon the waves that crash into the large, wooden stumps that support their home. “What’s done is done. Praireville was fucking destroyed and it doesn’t seem like it’s coming back” Scarlett remarks, her hands folded atop the bannister’s railing, “people were bound to question it eventually.” “Yeah, ‘eventually’ is a lot different from right now” Vic responds, her right elbow pressing into the railing as her hip rests against the glass divider beneath it, her front centred upon Scarlett. “Lincoln and Suzie may not be alive anymore, but we sure as hell still are” the brunette persists, “with that video out there, how long will it be before someone sees us use our powers? How long will it be before someone mistakes us for the same kind of crazy as Lincoln?” “Has it happened yet?” Scarlett quickly counters, the question redirecting the conversations focus entirely. Her mouth closing, Vic looks to Scarlett with a frown, her eyes gliding toward the greater Maldives coastline a near kilometre away. “We’re not fugitives, and we’re not on the run. We haven’t been ousted yet and we live in paradise” Scarlett continues, letting free a sigh as Vic’s eyes pull toward her own, “can’t we just enjoy whatever time we have left?” Rolling her eyes, Vic offers a frustrated sigh as she turns away, returning to the home in a curious way. “What did I say?” Scarlett inquires, following Vic back toward the parlour with the assumption that she’d crossed the line somewhere. “I don’t fucking understand you anymore!” Vic exclaims, throwing her arms toward the sky as she spins around, facing Scarlett once more, “you convince me to not fight what the realm wants, then spend weeks ignoring me to do the exact opposite, and now you’re right back with the ‘live each day like it’s your last’ bullshit!” “What more do you want me to do!?” Scarlett shouts, her face scrunching as it turns red with anger, frustration taking her over almost immediately. “I told you that I knew there was a chance that I could have been wrong!” Scarlett continues, kept from continuing as Vic interrupts her. “And what did it take you to figure that one out? Huh!?” Vic qualms, stepping forward with a visibly fury, “the realm turning itself into some freak with a mouth to tell you it was all fucking hopeless!?” Bowing her head, Scarlett’s hands find their place upon her hips as the room falls quiet, the soft waves that shift beneath their home filling the background with faint noise. “I’m sorry” Scarlett sympathetically replies, her eyes taking toward her disheartened friends’ face, Vic’s loss for words quickly becoming apparent. “I turned you away and I shouldn’t have” Scarlett further explains, watching Vic’s head bow just as her own had, “families fight. We’re no different.” Her nostrils flaring, Vic’s chin lifts, her face still filled with a simmering aggravation, its flame having been reignited. “Yeah, we are” Vic responds, backing away as the fingers on her right hand press closely together, “we’re not family.” Mirroring similar actions to those Scarlett had taken, Vic vanishes without another word, refusing to allow the opportunity for her friend to put in a final word. Looking toward an empty corner of the room, Scarlett shakes her head just as she turns away, sights setting upon the vast waters beyond as she conscientiously makes the effort to calm herself, reclaiming her calm demeanour from the grasp of shamefaced vitriol. = Dream Sequence is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = \ Realm of Reality / With her head hung, Vic follows the Bourbon Street walkway, its roads largely void of travellers in light of recent circumstances. Her brunette hair falling over her silk top-strewn shoulders, Vic carries on with her day, the sky clear of obstructions as the sunlight rains down upon her. “Get indoors, lady!” a nearby man exclaims, sitting at the entrance of a cramped, narrow alleyway with a paper bag in hand, “it’s not safe out here!” Her eyebrow raised, Vic barely passes the man an ounce of her concern, “why is that?” she asks, hands hung by her sides as she walks along. “‘Cause the world’s ending!” the man shouts back, a few teeth from the bottom row of his mouth visibly absent, replaced with nothing more than an empty gap. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Vic half-heartedly mocks, continuing her venture as the man responds. “‘Cause no one believes it!” the man exclaims, kicking over a metal cup as he uncrosses his legs for a moment, “but it’s happening! It’s happening and we’re all gonna feel it!” Pausing her leisurely stroll, Vic takes her head toward the man’s street-side corner, unable to shake the feeling that the nonsensical ramblings may have some weight behind them. “I’ve seen crazier things happen” Vic responds, squinting to brace against the sunlight shining in the distance directly over the older man’s head, “how’s the world going to end?” With a chuckle, the man’s head tilts backward, his hand fumbling along the ground in search of his overturned cup. “It’s gonna make the wrong choice, girl!” the man grunts, lifting the cup to his lip before spitting into it, flashing what’s left of his smile in Vic’s direction, “we’re all gonna pay for it!” Her face gradually lessening its tension-filled muscles, Vic subtly bobs her head and carries onward, her regard carried elsewhere without another word to offer. | \ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office / Her fingers curling, Scarlett angrily steps through the halls of the Realm Beyond, her hand thrown forward without anything leaving her grasp. Within seconds, a distant explosion rips through the eternal office’s nondescript walls, her mastery of the time grenade seemingly improving the longer it’s tested. As the minutes pass, Scarlett begins her descent through a massive stretch of floorspace, walls stretching dozens of levels through the air lining each side she walks. Nearing the halfway-point between the way she’d entered and the destination she has yet to arrive at, Scarlett’s eyes take to the lone ghoul rounding the corner ahead, its attention directed toward her the moment it steps foot within the labyrinth-like walkway. The growling it greets Scarlett with is kept to a minimum, the ghoul continues along its journey, its intent clearly not set on cutting Scarlett’s voyage short. Despite the lack of ill-intentions behind the emotionless display the feral entity has put forth, Scarlett summons her service weapon, its brilliant shade of blue illuminating the walls she walks through, the ghoul’s progression forward stopping upon this sight. As if accepting its fate, the ghoul’s head begins to hang, eyes directed toward the floor as it falls, knees colliding with the ground below. Already aware of the effect she has on the aimless that wander the halls equally destination-depraved, Scarlett remains somewhat taken aback by the sight, unsure how to react for a brief moment before acting upon her instinct. Raising the weapon, Scarlett pulls her index finger over where she’d anticipate the trigger to be, the lack of a fired pellet making her question what had gone wrong. Glancing to her side, Scarlett’s eyes take to her hand, the trigger guard she’d expected her face to fall toward replaced instead with a handle, the reality-warping firearm’s body having become the hilt of a blade, the barrel of her weapon’s tip replaced with the sharpened edge of a blade. “All hail the king” the ghoul remarks sadly, momentarily looking up to Scarlett before returning its head toward the ground, the blonde woman’s posture changing upon this strange discovery. Looking upon the back of the ghoul’s semi-decrepit skull, Scarlett lowers her service dagger for a brief moment, its blue tip falling into the ghoul’s line of sight. “Do you say anything else?” Scarlett inquires, prompting the feral soul to lift its head once more, its eyes travelling toward the hall’s distance. Without a word, the ghoul gently shakes its head in refusal, eyes lowering as its head bows once more, awaiting the sentencing its decided king prepares to bestow. A disappointed look carried in her face, Scarlett’s eyes take to the way she’d arrived, now carrying the fate of the ghoul that prepares to step within it. Relinquishing her service dagger, Scarlett steps back, watching the ghoul’s face lift toward her. “Carry on, ghoulie” Scarlett orders, resuming her stride toward her initial destination as the feral spirit watches on, surprised at his life being spared. “Is that growth I see?” a hauntingly familiar voice inquires, freezing Scarlett in the place she stands, her attention called back for the moment her first syllable is uttered. Her service dagger summoned once more, Scarlett spins around, her face returned to its bright, blue colour in the shade of her weapon. “It does become grating eventually, doesn’t it?” Suzie’s voice whispers, her semi-transparent, ghost-like body standing directly within Scarlett’s sights, the red glow in her eyes leaving little to assume. “What the hell are you doing here?” Scarlett inquires, stepping away from the concerning sight as she wields the dagger, prepared to lunge her hand forward at the first sign of danger. “What? Did you think I’d die and not find my way back to the realm?” Suzie inquires, stepping around Scarlett’s tense, defence-readied self as the living woman turns with her. “You’re dead” Scarlett responds, a remark that Suzie’s apparition can only nod in agreement to. “Of course I am, you already made sure of that” Suzie replies, her chin lowering as her red eyes stare intensely into Scarlett’s deep blue’s, “and soon enough, you will be too.” | \ Realm of Reality / Making her way through the empty parlour, Vic picks up on the strange sense of loneliness carried throughout her home, Scarlett’s absence making the villa feel larger than it truly is. Though she carries a photograph in her hand, Vic’s attention holds upon the empty living room, the white falls falling to a dark, greyish colour as the sun outside begins to fall behind the cloudy sky. Brushing off the odd aura surrounding her, Vic takes her photo through the sliding glass doors, her feet carrying her directly to the cushion-covered patio chair. With a sigh of relief, Vic sinks into the seat just as the large, burning star her planet orbits around becomes covered entirely, her hand extending toward the heavens as she closes her eyes. “You’re just going to say goodbye” Vic murmurs beneath her breath, her eyes closing tightly as her head tilts back, her breaths steadying as her head sinks further into the seat’s welcoming embrace. “You’re just going to say goodbye” Vic repeats, her eyes slowly releasing from their intense closure, gradually returning Vic’s view to the puffy clouds above, “you’re just saying goodbye.” Parting, Vic’s sights take to the photograph momentarily, the blue skies greying ahead of schedule as the world goes numb, Vic’s mind travelling with the rest of her body elsewhere. A breath of relief leaving her lungs at the sound of glass cups clanging together, Vic awakens in a world mirroring that of her own, a downtown bar packed to its limits in every direction she turns. “Happy twenty-first!” one older woman shouts in the distance, joining a group of friends as they surround a younger lady not too dissimilar from herself, a celebratory drink thrown down in unison. “Yeah, happy twenty-first” Vic mutters beneath her breath, tapping an older man nearby on the shoulder to little effect, her presence not only unattended to, but non-existent itself. Stepping around those she crosses paths with, Vic’s eyes navigate the busy bar room, billiard tables surrounded by beer-holding men whilst booths sit occupied by younger, less bar-experienced groups. A metaphorical fish out of water, Vic listens into conversations that surround her, waiting a few moments and traversing a few further tables before finally uncovering what she’d hoped for. “To the first drink of the night!” one woman from a group of others exclaims, an abundance of shot glasses clinking together at the nearest booth, its tall seats situated in the corner of the establishment. Her eyelids pulling away from each other slightly, Vic’s attention takes to the declaration, a group of familiar faces capturing her attention. As the unfortunate club remix of already unbearable pop songs blaring through randomly scattered stereo speakers persists, Vic drowns the garble out, her senses refusing to pay any mind to the distractions that surround her. “God, we haven’t done this in forever!” one woman, seemingly belonging to the group’s older side by her appearance, remarks aloud, the palms of her hands pressing against the table. “Well, most of us have kids- I don’t know why you’d expect any different” a second woman, likely on the group’s younger side replies, turning her glass over before resting it atop the booth. “I’ll still never be able to understand why you’d do that to yourselves” a third woman, also likely belonging to the table’s younger demographic remarks, tying her hair into a short ponytail. “Because they make our lives whole” a fourth woman, whose voice immediately brings the hairs on the back of Vic’s neck to a stand, responds, “you can’t for much more than a happy family.” “Who’s got a happy family here, Bethanne!?” a fifth girl shouts aloud, her attention driven to the mid-30’s brunette sat near the booth’s rear. “Don’t dig on her and Artie like that!” the second girl responds, her index finger directed toward the question-baring lady, “every marriage has its troubles!” Raising her hands in surrender, the fifth girl defends herself, clearing the air before it has the opportunity to grow fuzzy. “I never named names! You’re the one who named names!” she responds, the woman serving as the conversation’s subject forced to get involved in splitting the discussion apart. “Let’s not start arguing when we’ve got plenty ahead!” Bethanne quips, sliding past her situated friends on her way to the bar counter, “we’ve got too long of a night ahead for that!” The potential debate thwarted before it has the chance to begin, the group of girls collectively cheer as their fifth occupant steps away from the carrel. Her eyes watching Bethanne pass by, Vic remains silent, her chest tightening as her eyes fill with emotion, her hands shaking by her hips without certainty over how to respond. Her every breath growing shaky, Vic begins to tail the older lady, following the path she wages ahead as she steps between men and women at random. Occupying an empty seat at the counter, Bethanne snaps her fingers at the rushing bartender whilst Vic watches on, the fish-out-of-water presentation she’d sported previously having strengthened as the minutes pass. “Ten tequila shots, please!?” Bethanne exclaims, waiting a few further seconds before the steward delivers her a nod. Taking advantage of her inconspicuousness, Vic peers over Bethanne’s shoulder as the woman removes a phone from her purse, her thumbs immediately dancing across the screen to open her text messages. As the seat beside the patron opens, Vic’s hands swipe through the air, freezing time before it has the chance to pass any further, each frequenter of the bar left immobile as Vic sets herself down. Her left arm pressing against the oakwood countertop, Vic’s eyes take to the woman she’d centred her focus upon, her lip quivering as her mind wrestles with the words to speak. “I’m sorry this had to be the place we did this in” Vic opens, trying her best to loosen the rigid posture she sports whilst her eyes take to the remainder of the rowdy tavern. “I really wish I would have picked a better place than this” Vic explains, making an attempt at becoming more comfortable with the situation she finds herself in, settling into the stool she occupies whilst coupling her hands together, the base of her palms resting against the bar. “I never thought I’d see you again” Vic mutters beneath her breath, parting her interlaced fingers to rest her hand upon the woman’s wrist, a sudden crack in her voice emerging, “hi mom.” Her mouth going dry, Vic uses her free hand to cover her lips, tears beginning to run from her eyes as a result of the conflicting gestures. “Goddamn, this is hard” Vic murmurs to herself, shaking her head as she pulls her hand away, rubbing the top of her jean-covered thighs as her head bows. “I don’t really know what I was expecting” Vic murmurs, pretending the conversation she has is one with the woman responsible for raising her, “there’s so much I thought I wanted to say that I- I convinced myself I’d never have all the time to say it.” Her fingers running through her hair, Vic begins to lean back, her left hand wrapped around the counter’s curve to prevent herself from toppling over. “Sometimes I forget I have these powers, y’know?” Vic continues, her eyes beginning to water once more as her words stray from the script she’d prepared, her heart assuming control of her voiced thoughts, “I forget I could have all the time- literally all the time- in the world to do... To do anything.” Licking her dry lips, Vic holds her hand against her mouth as the sensation of sorrow becomes too much to carry, her eyes pressing together as she leans forward. “I just don’t really know what to do anymore” Vic weeps, looking into the side of her mother’s face, “it’s like all of this just keeps ripping pieces of me away- and I didn’t even know how many pieces I had left before it all began!” Hyperventilating, Vic wipes the tears from her face as she struggles to speak, each compilation of words spoken through spotty breaks in her speech. “All I had was Scarlett and now, well, now it feels like I’m gonna lose her too” Vic explains, clenching her teeth whilst returning her touch to Bethanne’s hand. “I didn’t know how badly I wanted all of this to be over until now” Vic confesses, squeezing the woman’s arm tightly as her head rests against Bethanne’s shoulder. “But now I’ve started to realise that- when all of this is over- I’m gonna lose everything I have left” Vic proceeds, her breathing finally beginning to fall under control, “so, no matter what I do, I keep living this cycle of hell that just never stops.” Pulling her head up, Vic looks to her mother’s face, pulling in a deep breath as her eyes redirect, staring at the counter for a moment before taking to the phone screen. Her once saddened expression turning around, Vic’s eyes wander through the contact list upon her mother’s phone display, recognising one specific combination of name and face from the many others. “Lincoln” Vic whispers beneath her breath, her hand pulling away from Bethanne’s shoulder as she backs away, her once bitter-rival’s face on the single message log above her father’s own. With a scowl, Vic’s face fills with anger, her attention squarely centred upon the back of her mother’s head. “Bye mom” Vic callously remarks, her fingers sliding against each other as time resumes, Vic’s presence returned to the realm above as more important matters occupy her headspace. | \ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office / “You still haven’t answered my question” Scarlett responds, tailing Suzie’s spirit closely with her service dagger in hand, cautious to ease her guard for even the slightest moment. “Which one was that again?” Suzie mocks, a smirk carried on her face as she turns her head around one hundred and eighty degrees, eyes locking with Scarlett’s, “you ask so many that I sometimes forget you want them answered.” “What’s the abrasion?” Scarlett queries, her eyes kept peeled, still uncertain as to whether or not Suzie’s ghostly figure can inflict damage upon her. “Oh, you finally found that old thing?” Suzie laughs, her head shaking as she proceeds at Scarlett’s whim, stepping through the executive sector’s massive depths as her body begins to momentarily destabilise, almost glitching in a weird sense. “That’s the canyon Razul, Kazro and I emerged from to get inside this god-forsaken hellhole” Suzie responds, a slight amount of spite carried behind her remarks, almost bitter in a way. “Then fucking fix it” Scarlett responds, provoking Suzie into a fit of laughter as the climbs the first set of stairs. “That’s your job, darling- not mine” Suzie’s soul replies, again beginning to rapidly glitch, “after all, I was only able to make it by combining Vic and your DNA.” “Then uncreate it” Scarlett responds, persuading Suzie to halt her march forward as she reaches the top-most step, her eyes beginning to roll. “The two of you need to step through it if you want that to happen” Suzie replies, looking Scarlett in the eyes as they stand one step apart, “there’s nothing in this realm, neither you or Vic, Lincoln or I, or even Esotera that knows who you and Vic are better than that abrasion.” Gazing away momentarily, Scarlett takes Suzie’s remarks to heart for a moment whilst the forefront woman moves onward, leading herself to the vast workroom. “What happens if I step through it?” Scarlett inquires, following Suzie toward the collection of desks in the next room over, a few brief glances shared with the realm’s red-coloured wound paid as the discourse persists. “It’ll show you who the two of you are, I’d assume” Suzie replies, venturing down a line of desks with Scarlett in her shadow, “either that, or it’ll kill you. Either way, I’m fine with whatever outcome happens.” “That’s just great” Scarlett returns, the remark she follows with guiding Suzie’s attention back the way she’d entered, her eyes falling upon Scarlett’s distressed expression. Attempting to speak, Suzie’s figment goes momentarily silent, her eyes travelling to a dark corner of the room as she struggles with what she tries to say aloud. “I’d really try to keep that growth going if I were you” Suzie remarks, nodding to herself briefly as she turns away, continuing her patrol. “Why is that?” Scarlett goes out, again prompting Suzie to halt her departure, her face turning back just as the rest of her body does. “Because this is right around the time it happened” Suzie replies, able to see Scarlett’s face shrink in curiosity, “around the time Chris and I had our fallout.” Nodding, Scarlett’s lips pucker as her head’s up-and-down motion begins to swivel from one side to the other. “Vic and I are on good terms” Scarlett responds, watching Suzie subdue a laugh that prevents her from speaking further. “Yeah, Chris and I were too-” Suzie responds, coupling her hands together as she steps forward, easing her approach as Scarlett lifts her service dagger a slight amount, “-that’s when the sabotage began.” Her posture as unchanged as her demeanour, Scarlett watches Suzie continue as the thoughts encircle her mind, the sudden emergence of banging in the spacious hall they occupy captivating Scarlett’s sights. “Have you noticed Vic sticking her nose in things it doesn’t belong yet?” Suzie inquires, continuing to draw closer as her hand reaches out, another set of knocks emerging in the unseen levels above. “Police, open your door!” a distant shout calls out from above, stealing Scarlett’s attention as Suzie’s smirk widens, her words only continuing to linger upon Scarlett’s mind. “Maybe you’ve seen her doing things you can’t explain? Maybe you don’t know how to make sense of them yet?” Suzie inquires further, watching Scarlett’s head shake as the pounding above continues, “things that, as long as you trust that she’d never do you wrong, she’d be able to get away with?” “Vic’s not that person” Scarlett replies defiantly, again listening to the angered knocking persist. “Police! Open your door!” the voice above repeats, captivating Scarlett enough to draw her face upward, nearly allowing Suzie’s creeping hand to draw near. “You’re both after the same thing” Suzie responds, Scarlett’s arm nearly gracing the tip of her finger, “why should either of you have to stab the other in the front when you can just do it in the back instead?” Leaping away from her place, Scarlett creates further separation between herself and Suzie before snapping herself free of the realm, returning to the world she’s needed within. Her feet colliding with the floor of the villa’s parlour, Scarlett takes Vic’s arm into her grasp as the brunette approaches the front door. “We have to go!” Scarlett shouts, again snapping her fingers as she vanishes into thin air, the girls fleeing their villa just as the front door is kicked in, a fleet of officers armed to the teeth storming through their entrance just a moment too late, a patch of the American flag adorned on the left sleeve of each armed soldier as they invade the home. == Dream Sequence == \ Realm of Reality /
Their hands coupled together at their lap, Scarlett and Vic stand beside each other in silence, their eyes held toward the ground where two fresh, unmarked graves reside. Refusing to utter a word, Vic’s eyes peer toward Scarlett, looking at the woman briefly before her stare returns to the ground. In the near distance, a fleet of helicopters soar through the air, monitoring the ground for activity they find intriguing. As the sky darkens, Scarlett’s period of mourning ends, her quiet turn away from the grave allowing her to retreat toward safer pastures. “When did you find out about all of this?” Vic inquires, a few steps taken away from the burial ground, though not enough to match Scarlett’s pace. “A few days ago” Scarlett answers, able to notice the distance between herself and Vic grow as the woman’s voice raises another question, continuing to leave the plot behind. “Were you ever going to tell me?” Vic wonders aloud, still greatly lacking behind Scarlett’s stride. “Sure” Scarlett responds, her reply purposefully brief and simplistic as she marches on, stepping through the remnants of Praireville’s natural landscape. Removing one hand from her pocket, Vic snaps herself directly into Scarlett’s path, returning the hand to its jacket-side pouch as her questions persist. “When were you going to tell me?” Vic queries, Scarlett continuing to approach with little intention of stopping. “In a few days, I guess- I didn’t give it much thought” Scarlett responds, directing her head toward Vic’s side before following that path, stepping around the woman as she proceeds forward. “Can you stop walking away?” Vic inquires, rolling her eyes as she spins around, looking at Scarlett’s back as she slows, additional helicopters passing in the distance. “Do I really need to walk you through this process?” Vic inquires, visibly aggravated at the woman’s nonchalant demeanour. Sighing, Scarlett spins just as Vic had, her eyes meeting the woman’s own as her head drifts to the side. “I’m not avoiding you like before, Vic” Scarlett remarks, a statement her other half agrees with. “I know that. I also know you’re trying to avoid talking about what happened in the realm” Vic responds, a declaration Scarlett has little argument against. “What do you want me to say?” Scarlett queries, her own hands falling into the pockets of a light jacket, “what you saw is what happened. Is there something I can tell you that your own two eyes couldn’t?” Forced to squint as her face aims toward the sun, Vic’s eyes take toward the distance, raising the questions that begin to mount. “How did you know to do that?” Vic first wonders aloud, her right knee bent as her foot stands outward, imprinting the pattern beneath her shoe into soft dirt. “I honestly didn’t” Scarlett responds, speaking with no reason to conceal secrets, “I was furious, I’d lost too many people to keep my mind right, and I took it out on her.” “Hold on” Vic calmly interrupts, her squinted eyes pressing closer together as she leans back slightly, “what do you mean by that?” “By what?” Scarlett responds, the look in Vic’s face implying a realisation Scarlett’s yet to find a source for. “You’d lost too many people” Vic replies, watching Scarlett’s eyes drop slightly as her question is finished, “what do you mean by that?” Taking in a deep breath, Scarlett’s face pulls away, the field they stand within ending just as asphalt begins, its surface covered in the thick overgrowth abandoned cities inevitably find themselves consumed by. Hands kept in her pockets, Scarlett steps through the tree line, Vic following the woman in silence as they emerge from their hiding, returning home if only for a moment. Catching up to her friend, Vic rejoins Scarlett’s side, their hands tucked into pockets as they come to a stop at the weathered walkway. “My mom died” Scarlett groans, her face shining beneath Praireville’s sunlight as Vic’s head turns toward her, looking at her with apologetic eyes. “Something about heart failure or- whatever it was- that’s what was on her obit” Scarlett explains, her head hanging as the tip of her boot kicks the small pebbles scattered along the side passage. “It’s just a lot of loss to process in so little time” Scarlett murmurs, a passing glance taken toward the broken skyline she’d previously had the ability to recognise by heart. “I’m so sorry, Scar” Vic responds, aware of how empty the response is, but unable to offer much else in the way of encouraging words. “I am too” Scarlett replies, nodding her head as she lowers herself to the ground, her legs crossed as her hands rest atop her thighs. “I’m starting to think we’re doing a lot more harm up here than good” the blonde confesses, able to feel the warmth of the burning star that stands out from the rest of the sky. “If we didn’t make it out of that plane crash, there’d be so many people alive right now” Scarlett continues, her seated stance eventually shared by Vic, who lowers herself to the ground just the same. “Even if we tried to do something about that now, it’d already be too late” Scarlett concludes, looking Vic in the eyes as she finishes her thought, “-everyone we loved is already dead.” Discomforted at the macabre sentiment, Vic sees the truth and irony behind it nonetheless, her spirit beginning to dwindle just as Scarlett’s seemingly has. “Don’t you think that’s part of the realm’s plan?” Vic responds, watching Scarlett’s head dip as she lets out a sigh, “even with Lincoln and Suzie around, I feel like there’s been too much that’s happened for it not to be.” Rubbing her calves silently, Scarlett stares ahead, intentionally refusing to look Vic in the eyes as she answers with silence. “What aren’t you telling me?” Vic wonders aloud, the look of guilt stretching across Scarlett’s face as her eyes slowly make their way back, looking Vic in the eyes. “She- Mother- She told me” Scarlett admits, a genuine worry held within her remark, Vic’s head pulling back as Scarlett’s thought concludes. “This is all supposed to make us stronger” Scarlett explains, Vic’s eyes taking to the same distance her own had when trying to avoid the conversation, “it ends with you and me.” = Dream Sequence is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = \ Realm Beyond / “Is Vic not with you?” Esotera wonders aloud, entering a vast, open space littered with empty desks as she walks ahead of Scarlett, the ceiling no less than four stories above their head. “No, she- uh- she needed some air” Scarlett replies, the tone in her voice making the blatant vagueness in her answer obvious, “with no more Suzie around, it’s not too dangerous coming in here on my own, is it?” “It’s as dangerous as anything you experience in the realm above” Esotera quickly replies, passing a glance to the light-haired woman following in her shadow, “you don’t hold her hand when you cross the street, do you?” “Not unless there’s an ice cream truck passing by” Scarlett quickly jokes, stepping through the large, ample bureau, “for the sake of her wallet, she needs to hold me back from spending a few thousand dollars on the driver’s inventory.” Each of their steps tapping loudly along the ground, Scarlett’s eyes begin to wander, the interior architecture inspired by the same brutalist craft as the rest of the office, though strangely feeling disassociated from it. Lining the walls, tall, concrete columns lift from the ground and toward the ceiling, their strange carvings unintelligible and cold to the unflattered eye. “Where are we?” Scarlett inquires, her voice carried throughout the spacious internal sanctum as the pair step forward. “The executive sector” Esotera replies, offering very little elaboration as if the room were second nature, “have you not been here?” “No, I haven’t- when have you?” Scarlett replies, following the spirit’s ascent with little other choice. “The realm continues to live its life with or without you here” Esotera replies, an eyebrow lifting as she glances over her shoulder once more, finally reaching the staircase’s peak, “you’re aware of that, right?” Hushed for a moment, Scarlett watches Esotera step through an already-open doorway, vanishing around the corner to a fate Scarlett has yet to join her in. “Yeah” Scarlett answers half-heartedly, never having asked herself the question that would have guided her toward such an answer. Continuing her progress forward, Scarlett joins her spiritual counsel down an equally-large flight of stairs, their concrete design comparable to the one she’d climbed minutes earlier. “And this place is the-?” Scarlett begins to inquire, her voice falling as her head turns toward Esotera’s direction, confused at what sits before her. “Is there something on your mind, Scarlett?” Esotera inquires, her back turned toward a large array of desks, faceless apparitions sat at desks whilst mimicking work, not a single thing atop their empty workstations to occupy their time. “Yeah” Scarlett replies, yet to pay any mind to the blank slates that line the room before her, sights instead set on an ominous display off to the room’s side. “What the fuck is that!?” Scarlett queries, wanting to step toward the crevasse sat across the room from her, though she refuses to do so. “Just how much of this realm have you seen thus far?” Esotera inquires, departing her stance near the vast office’s forefront in favour of the eyesore Scarlett’s attention has centred upon. “Not a whole ton apparently” Scarlett responds, watching Esotera venture closer toward the splinter whilst she slowly musters up the courage to do the same. Her face gradually coated in the glow of a bright, red light, Scarlett’s chin tilts upward, her eyes gazing at the impossibly deep gash carved into the room’s wall. “If this is the executive sector- what’s that!?” Scarlett asks for a second time, her arms hung by her sides as Esotera replies, unable to pull her focus away from the luminescent tower standing before her. “This is the Abrasion” Esotera replies, her hands coupled behind her back as she, too, stands in the deep, red glow of what lies beside her. Stretching a seemingly infinite number of stories through the air, a large, ninety-degree angle tear rips through the concrete facade, its limits reaching unfathomable depths. “The abrasion?” Scarlett repeats, peering through the wall’s breakage with her eyebrows furrowed, “you have names for all the other rooms, and this one’s called ‘the abrasion’?” “This isn’t meant to be here” Esotera quickly replies, her expression unchanged as if the sight were of no immediate worry. “If it’s not meant to be here, why is it here?” Scarlett questions with equal speed, the question she asks one Esotera had already come to anticipate. “I don’t know” Esotera returns, an answer that brings satisfaction to neither of the female figures, “but I’m sure it’s more than obvious that it doesn’t belong.” Stepping past Scarlett, Esotera returns to the post she’d occupied moments prior, leaving the blonde woman to stand beneath the abrasion’s glow. “My question still remains, Scarlett” Esotera remarks, guiding the woman’s face back toward her general vicinity, “you’ve come down here for a reason, haven’t you?” Subduing her intrigue at the striking sight behind her, Scarlett returns to Esotera, her eyes narrowing as she continues to fight her interest in the unnatural anomaly. “I wanted to figure out why I-” Scarlett begins, pausing as she makes peace with having to admit to her actions aloud, “-why I did what I did to Suzie.” Her hands still clasped behind her back, Esotera nods, turning away from the woman in order to peer out at the sea of nondescript employees behind her. “Do you regret what you did?” Esotera inquires, turning her back to Scarlett as she proceeds forward, eyes set on the workspace’s rear. “Of course not. She deserved every last second of her- well, of her last second” Scarlett replies, adamant in her stance, “I don’t know what I’d do to live that all over again.” “Well, there’s your answer” Esotera retorts, passing each desk, one at a time, whilst Scarlett begins to follow. “But that doesn’t tell me why I did it” Scarlett counters, hands swaying by her sides as she continues to pass a few momentary glances at the distant abrasion. “That’s because you don’t want to know why you did it- you want to know how” Esotera remarks, spinning around to look Scarlett in the eyes, aware of her correct assessment with a simple look into the woman’s eyes. “Okay, yeah- my apologies for using the wrong word” Scarlett mocks, rolling her eyes as she, too, stops stepping forward, “I still need help figuring it out.” “Of course you do!” Esotera responds, flashing Scarlett a smile before turning away, resuming her progression through the room without another word. Pulling her head back, Scarlett waits a few moments before replying, the follow-up she slightly anticipates not arriving as hoped for. “That’s it?” Scarlett calls out, refusing to follow the woman any further than she already had, “aren’t you going to help me?” Her mouth forming a smile, Esotera continues her departure, no longer offering Scarlett any help further than what she’s already offered her. “You shouldn’t need me to answer these questions for you anymore, Scarlett” Esotera responds, descending upon the next room without her blonde-haired shadow, “it’s time you answer your own questions.” | \ Realm of Reality / A pair of sunglasses worn over a dejected expression, Vic sits on a park bench with her hands in her lap, her dark hair shining beneath the sunlight as it floats across her face, carried by gentle winds passing by. A pair of earbuds resting upon each side of her head, Vic rests her back against the metal bench, its black coat of paint somewhat fitting for the trail her thoughts have recently taken to. Closing her eyes, Vic lets her head fall back, the back of her scalp resting against the curled bars the bench’s support is composed of, beginning to lose herself in the moment’s serenity. Paying little mind to the joggers that pass by, Vic’s awareness begins to dip, her eyes pressing closer together as her breath steadies, the expression on her face falling flat. “Ope!” a random civilian exclaims, tripping over her own shoe just as she begins to pass, leading her collapse directly into Vic’s line of presence. Jolted from her near-slumber, Vic catches the girl at the final moment, saving her head from meeting the unwelcoming railing she sits just beside, a fate worse than a concussion not unlikely without her intervention. Falling into Vic’s lap, the embarrassed woman can’t help herself from profusely apologising, gradually removing herself from the young woman’s body as she returns to her feet. “I’m so sorry! I don’t even know what I tripped on!” the woman exclaims, temporarily stationing herself on the open side of Vic’s seat as she calms herself. “It’s fine. Seriously, you’re alright” Vic responds, readjusting the glasses the woman had knocked off her face, the muffled music she’d been listening to now played to no one as the buds rest beside her. “Are you sure? Nothing’s broken?” the woman replies, brushing off her palms as she persists, wanting to ensure Vic’s reply isn’t out of sympathy. “Really, it’s fine. I’m okay, are you?” Vic promises, brushing a sand stain from the woman’s pant leg as she replies, silencing her music as the woman speaks. “Yeah, I think I’ll make it” the woman jokes, visibly flustered and ashamed at the incident’s occurrence. “Well I’m glad falling into me isn’t fatal” Vic quips back, sharing a laugh with the woman as she extends her hand, slightly relieved to see an unfamiliar face sport such familiar decency, “I’m Victoria.” Reciprocating the gesture, the woman takes Vic’s hand into her own, gently shaking it as she leans back in her seat. “Priscilla” the woman responds, undoing her hair tie as she fixes the strands of red hair that flow over her shoulders, knocked free from their restraint. “My friends call me Prissy ‘cause let’s be honest with ourselves-” the woman remarks, letting out a sigh of comedic relief as her thought finishes, “-what better shortname is there for Priscilla?” Parting her lips, Vic begins to voice her alternative aloud, her voice falling the moment second thoughts come over her. “Yeah, I see your point” Vic replies, allowing the question to fade off with her non-answer, “my friends call- my friend calls me Vic.” “Really? Not Vikki or Tori?” Prissy responds, watching the chuckle emerge from her new acquaintance as their conversation continues. “No. Well, my mom used to call me Tori. But, I don’t like people using it anymore, so it’s just a natural next-step, y’know?” Vic speaks, tucking the buds into her back pocket, “I’d rather go by Vic than Vikki.” Nodding, Prissy finishes returning her hair to the bind it had been pulled toward the top of her head with, “why don’t you like being called ‘Tori’ anymore?” she qualms, watching Vic’s face begin to fall. “Well, it’s a long story” Vic responds, fiddling with her hands as they rest in her lap, her back pressed into the bench’s corner to provide her with a better view of Prissy, “but at some point, she stopped calling me Tori. Ever since then, I’ve gone by Victoria or Vic.” Correctly assuming Vic’s privacy has influence in not delving further, Prissy respects the woman’s departure from openness, allowing her indistinct, open-ended response to prove a satisfying answer. “What about you?” Vic posits, redirecting the conversation’s focus to fulfil her need for reprieve, “does anyone else have a different nickname for you?” Appearing to shake her head in refusal for a moment, Prissy’s face soon drops just as Vic’s had, her eyes lowering as a change in demeanour presents itself. “Well, my fiance used to call me ‘Meadow’ instead. He used to think ‘Prissy’ was sort of rude, so he just went with something else” the woman responds, her smile less genuine than it had been before. “Did he start calling you ‘Cilia instead or something?” Vic queries, yet to truly recognise the disappointment in Prissy’s face until the question had already been asked. “He, uh- he died a few months ago” the woman answers, nodding her head as she tries with all she can manage to fill her grin with joy as it had been before. “Yeah, he got caught up in that stuff out in Praireville” Prissy continues, allowing herself to speak freely without worrying over the consequences, not feeling like there’s much reason to concern herself with them, “yeah, it’s been- it’s been tough.” “I’m so- so sorry” Vic replies, her stomach knotting at the town’s mention, her eyes steering away with a sensation of sheer guilt. “It’s okay! I’m- I’m kinda making peace with it” Prissy hastily assures, worried that the shift she’d sent upon the conversation’s mood had put Vic off. “It’s hard, sure- but it’s getting easier to stomach” Prissy explains, again trying to hide the pain-ridden expression that threatens to present itself, “I’m just waiting for the day they get the thing that did it.” Eyes pressing somewhat closely together, Vic’s face takes away from the sunlit asphalt, returning to Prissy as a sudden thought reaches her mind. “I- I’ve been out of the loop” Vic responds, choosing her words with great care, “I know something big happened out there, but I’m- I’m not sure what it was. Could you elaborate?” Surprised, Prissy answers the question, speaking from whatever recollection she can muster. “I mean, yeah- there was an attack on the place. Police said there were bombs and an army of sort, and that the city was pretty much levelled” Prissy continues, her left arm pressing into the low-setting armrest beside her. “They evacuated everyone and said the guy had gotten away. They told people to look for him and that was it” Prissy continues, “the national guard went in and he’s still on the loose.” Putting on a dismayed face, Vic nods her head and glances away, her eyes taking toward the sky as it begins to cloud, a further question springing to mind. “Are there any videos of this happening?” Vic posits, struggling to clarify the inquiry she makes, “like, is there any footage of what happened or is it just word-of-mouth?” “Well, people made a big fuss about a helicopter going down, but the cops said it didn’t have a camera on it” Prissy responds, her remarks giving Vic a better understanding of what’s occurred. “So that’s what everyone accepts? A big attack happened and the people that did it just- just what? Got away?” Vic furthers, noticing the hesitation behind Prissy’s eyes as she responds, reluctant to take any of the opinion’s she denotes as credible. “Well, of course not! There’s always people that think something’s a conspiracy, or aliens, or whatever” Prissy replies, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow as it begins falling. “They think it was some monster- like a space creature or something” the red-haired woman furthers, trying to make sense of what she says whilst speaking it, “apparently, a few survivors said they saw something in the sky. They were so spiked on adrenaline, though. I can’t believe people take it seriously.” Offering little more than an unauthentic scoff at the remarks, Vic nods in feigned agreement, her sunglasses returning to her face as she digests what’s been said. | \ Realm of Reality / Returned to the realm above, Scarlett’s face immediately takes to the heavens above, daylight having begun to pass as the evening sets in. Trees surrounding her in every direction, Scarlett’s face soon sets upon the unmarked graves she and Vic had dug hours prior, her chest growing tight as she stands at the foot of Rachel’s burial ground. “You guys deserved so much better” Scarlett mutters beneath her breath as she drops to her knee, the palm of her hand resting against the raised plot of dirt. “I’m sorry I got you guys into this mess” Scarlett confesses, her opposite hand taking to Jared’s empty gravesite as her voice grows stiff, flushed with guilt over her friends’ demise, “and I’m sorry I couldn’t get you out of it.” Her goodbye’s offered, Scarlett pulls away, another round of helicopters flying overhead in the distance, surveilling the ground as Scarlett’s senses begin to strengthen. “Scar!” Vic calls out, stepping through the thick flora they’d concealed the illegal crypt within as she takes notice of the flowing blonde locks she’d grown to know so well. “What are you doing here? I thought you were taking the day to yourself?” Scarlett questions, watching the woman draw near with a look of great concern. “They’re covering everything up” Vic responds, paying no mind to the woman’s prior two questions, her attention taken elsewhere, “they said it was a bomb and terrorists or something like that. They’re covering it all up!” “Or, alternatively, they don’t want to put people in a frenzy” Scarlett replies, again forced to speak over another fleet of helicopters that pass through the airspace, “would you want to be the person to tell people we have super powers?” “Well, boy oh boy! I’ve got something to show you!” Vic exclaims, taking Scarlett by the arm and snapping themselves away from Praireville’s outskirts. “Where the fuck are we!?” Scarlett exclaims, nearly falling to the ground as she’s thrown off-balance, her wrist taken into Vic’s grasp before she can meet the dirt. “Old Jefferson” Vic answers, climbing the hill she’d transported them to, the bridge above concealing their entrance as a horde of angry citizens scream at Praireville’s entrance. Without a sound, Scarlett follows Vic to the road above, her eyes dawning upon the quiet town’s raucous border, a swarm of helicopters circling above in an effort to provide assistance to the large military unit patrolling the ground. “This is a fucking warzone!” Scarlett exclaims, watching a plethora of men and women step over the bridge they’d emerged beneath, their faces mostly covered with masks, their bodies largely adorned with heavy sweatshirts. “I think everyone’s already in a frenzy” Vic explains, her finger pointing in the direction of a nearby group of young adults, the video they watch on their computer immediately raising concern. “I think every already knows too” Scarlett responds, the recording their eyes take to presenting little more than Lincoln’s enraged pose beneath the backdrop of a night they know all too well. “The cat’s out of the bag” Vic responds, her hands seeking refuge in the pockets of her jacket as she and Scarlett stand by, watching the video unfold before cutting off as the helicopter is rendered immobile. “What the fuck do we do now?” Scarlett grumbles, her head shaking as her eyes take to the rapid crowd, their hostilities proving difficult for the country’s forces to hold for long. == Dream Sequence == \ Realm of Reality /
The wind knocked out of her, Rachel collides with the ground, its metal deck replaced with soft, wet sand as she comes to a rest, drenched by a wave that stretches past the shoreline. Coming to after a brief second of disbelief, Rachel buries her hands in the damp seaside, her fingers pushing into the soaked mixture as she sits up, her below-surface vessel replaced for a long, empty view of a vast, blue, never-ending ocean. “Aaahhh!” Suzie yelps, tearing the dibber from the space in her chest cavity it had been forced into, roughly fifty metres separating herself from the scorned girl, whose head soon turns toward her direction. Her service dagger summoned, Suzie drives its tip into the open puncture, her howl of pain from before returning as the electricity cauterises the perforation. As she gasps for each breath to calm herself, Suzie’s presence is taken notice of by the young woman across the sand’s surface from her, Rachel’s face sprouting an intense look of vitriol. The scalpel’s deep laceration still unattended to, Suzie’s grimace returns, the palm of her hand pressing into the hastily-performed incision as she sits up, finally noticing the animalistic vitality Rachel eyes her with. “What?” Rachel coldly asks, speaking as if Rachel’s apparent anger was an unimportant burden to her. Answering without speech, Rachel pushes herself off the ground slowly, beginning to approach the woman before her swinging hand collides with the side of her leg. A strange weight felt within her waistband, Rachel’s advancement halts, the mechanical sound that subtly jolts in her pocket bringing the woman to a standstill. Her shirt stained with fresh blood, Rachel lifts her shirt a slight amount, the dark grip that loosely protrudes from her side stealing her focus. Eyes widening, Rachel’s hand wraps around the protruding piece, its handle stained as red as the soft fabric of her top, its rubber-like feel pulled from the denim band. Taken into her possession, the handgun Jared had narrowly managed to finish Suzie off with now falls into Rachel’s grasp, the man’s final act proving to be his best yet. Too far away to see what the object is with clarity, Suzie presses her eyes close together, focusing on what sits in Rachel’s control with curiosity. “What’s tha-?” Suzie asks aloud, the moment it takes the pain to distract her from the conflict at hand soon eradicated at the sound of gunfire. Pelting the sand just a few metres away from her feet, the first bullet fired draws Suzie away, the woman forced to crawl backward in an instinctual effort, strategically eying each shot with the intent of scurrying out of line. The next two shots drawing a slight distance closer, Rachel’s advancement increases in its swiftness, Suzie’s retreat gradually outpaced with each step. Over-shooting Suzie with her following two shots, Rachel’s aim provides evidence of her progress, the sand just above the lost soul’s head leaping into the air as the rounds collide with it, prompting the eternal tormentor to fall flat upon her back, shielding her face with both arms. No longer able to withdraw from the conflict, Suzie’s left defenceless, watching Rachel approach as her crawl ceases, the only thing separating the damned captor from certain demise being her attacker’s accuracy. A brief glance at her arm providing her with a last-ditch opportunity, Suzie presses her elbows into the sand and shuffles herself to the right, timing it with Rachel’s penultimate round as best as she can. Her dodge slightly put off, Suzie feels Rachel’s shot plunge into her side, the brass jacket she’d been pierced with choosing to make itself at home beneath her skin. With a subdued groan, Suzie’s eyes refuse to take away from the gun woman, watching Rachel’s final round line up cleanly, her finger pulling the trigger as Suzie’s head sits within her target. Saved by her own recollection, Suzie throws her hands forward, stopping time before throwing herself to the ground, her arms thrown over her face once more for protection. With a flash, the world and its inhabitants are brought to a standstill, the soothing rush of water upon the shoreline going silent just as the birds that fly overhead remain overhead, unmoving and unbroken from their flight. Unsure of what fate lies ahead, Suzie gingerly pulls her arms away, the sudden calmness of the world around her making it impossible to avoid the searing pain any longer than she has up to this point. Carefully looking forward, Suzie’s eyes take to the small pellet fired toward her with fatal intentions, its tip staring her in the eyes from a distance of mere centimetres. With a sigh of relief, Suzie pushes the bullet off of its trajectory, steering it toward an empty plot of sand before frantically dragging herself far away in the opposite direction. Composing herself, Rachel tears off her jacket and removes the thin button-down she’d worn, her telekinetic powers stripping its baggy sleeve from the rest of its material with relative ease. Though too thin to achieve its desired effect, the garment slows the heavy bleeding, serving as a fair alternative to bandages in the moment as far as the wandering soul is concerned. Her energy spent, Suzie stumbles backward, falling just as Rachel had into the sands warmth and embrace, an entry wound still present in her abdomen. Deep breaths whistling through her teeth, Suzie removes the firearm from Rachel’s hand, watching it float through the air before settling between her teeth. Her eyes wide, Suzie bites against the cold metal, her front teeth nearly touching as her telekinesis is put to use once more, her open palm hovering over the wound on her side. With a deep breath, Suzie runs herself through the gauntlet of excruciating pain, slowly dragging the bullet through her body just as it had entered as the barrel rattles within her mouth, its durability put to the test in the fashion of long past civilisations. Her fingers wrapping around the slug in the moment it touches her palm, Suzie relieves the gun of her dental pressure and summons her service weapon, the temporary bandage on her arm removed as she settles two scores with one strike. As the hangover-like migraine ensues, Suzie relents, her wounds cared to the best she can manage, the situation disarmed for the moment being. Her trigger finger squeezing the rest of the way, Rachel watches the sand fire through the air as the bullet collides with unattended ground, her target no longer laid defenceless within the sand. A brief glance taken toward her own hand, Rachel’s sights soon turn to her side, the momentary sound of grunting drawing her attention. As quickly as time had unfrozen, Rachel’s eyes close, squeezing together as her hands press against the sudden pain against her head. Groaning, Rachel turns to her back as Suzie steps over her, wasting little time in quashing the young woman’s efforts. With a second crack, the barrel of Suzie’s gun meets the empty space between Rachel’s eyes, the daze she’d thrust upon her victim turning to outright unconsciousness. Arms falling limply to her sides, Rachel’s vengeful assault comes to a definitive conclusion, Suzie’s eyes keeping on her for a few additional seconds just to be sure of such a fact. Able to take a moment for herself, Suzie falls to the ground for a second time, her eyes wandering toward the sky as her hand falls to her lap, the firearm still in hand. Her heart racing, Suzie pulls in a few deep breaths as she shakes her head, passing a glance toward the firearm as her hand raises, holding it in front of the sky and directly toward the injured soul’s face. Setting the view aside momentarily, Suzie’s hand raises once more, the woman forced into a double take as she peers into the weapon’s glossy reflection, a look of immediate concern taking over her. Just as she’d seen in her brother’s before, the sclera of her eye loses its milky, blank-slate shade of white, which it trades in for a stained, sickly shade of light yellow. “No- fuck!” Suzie whispers to herself, the weapon she wields leaving her hand as it’s thrown toward the sea in frustration, her chance at reprieve having quickly become redundant as her expiration looms near. Scrambling to her feet, Suzie expends her energy as she takes Rachel’s body with her weakened grasp, her opposite hand snapping the altercation’s remnants in the direction of sanctuary. = Dream Sequence is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = \ Realm of Reality / “This is much stranger than you think, Vic” Scarlett inquires, genuinely fascinated by the street she walks upon, its layout familiar in more than just a few ways. “The same can be said for everything we do- our existence defies logic in some ways” Vic replies, easing her friend’s concerns just as they emerge. “That doesn’t change how strange it is” Scarlett replies, a pessimistic tone in her voice as she walks beside Vic, the road she travels down marked with signage she’d been able to recognise for years. “I’m not disagreeing with that, but it’s no more strange than anything else we do- that’s what I’m saying” Vic replies, the paved road the pair wander down absent of vehicles or people, a blank landscape painted from the boundaries of comfort. “If you understand this enough to bring me into it, tell me how the fuck it works” Scarlett responds, her differences with Vic set aside for the time being, “are we still in the villa?” Waving her hand forward, Vic deconstructs the warped world they’d travelled along to return herself and Scarlett to the villa. “I think of it as a really realistic projector” Vic replies, stepping in front of Scarlett with her hands extended, her fingertips directed toward opposing walls, “when I turn it on, everything in the villa becomes whatever I want it to be.” Her voice subdued for the moment, Scarlett’s eyes wander throughout the parlour they reside within, her first instinct being to approach the nearest wall. “How do you know what’s real and what’s not if you can blend the two together?” Scarlett queries, resting her hand against the drywall as the question is raised, able to feel her breath bounce against the surface before wafting over her face. Recreating the street they’d walked upon, Vic approaches Scarlett, stepping past the woman who now stands in the road’s centre once more, the barrier that exists in the real world no longer capable of impeding her step. Seemingly walking through what would otherwise be a slate of drywall, Vic dissolves the false world once more, still stood in the same spot of the villa that she had been left in, the walls an equal distance away from her hands as seconds prior. “Alright, you’ve proven that part, but-” Scarlett begins, unable to finish her thought before Vic resurrects the cosy, quiet street, each finger aside from her index digit restricting as she proceeds. Out of sheer will, Vic lines the street they occupy with cars, the single-lane, neighbourhood street as busy as Times Square in the midst of rush hour, people passing on the walkways with little reason to believe anything around them is fictional. “I can’t do that in the real world” Vic responds, again tapping the air with her lone digit to erase the congested chaos she’d brought upon the small block. Visibly concerned, Scarlett sets her worries aside as she nears closer to Vic, another question lingering within the back of her head now that her prior two have been answered. “Why are we in Praireville?” Scarlett questions, the residential zone they stand within recreated precisely how it truly exists. “This is- like- three blocks from my house” Scarlett points out, stepping closer to the woman as the qualm remains open-ended, “why bring us here?” Her lips pressed together, Vic hangs her head and steps past Scarlett once more, this time without a point to prove. “I figured you’d appreciate it, I guess” Vic replies, turning back to the woman as she looks around the environment, a flock of birds flying just overhead as a calm breeze rolls through, “I thought you might like to go home for a little bit?” “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it- but, it just feels odd” Scarlett retorts, tucking her hands within the small pockets at her sides, “almost like it’s more than just a nice gesture.” Her face souring slightly, Vic unravels the illusion once more, returning them to the villa as she makes her way to the living room. “Well- it was” Vic defeatedly responds, occupying her chair the room’s length away from Scarlett’s, “I figured you might be less evasive with me if you got to visit home a bit.” Confused, Scarlett’s head drifts to the side, watching Vic’s arms rest upon the chair’s sides as she sits back with nothing left to say other than to offer the truth. Giving into the pull of Vic’s confession, Scarlett lets the walls she’d spent the last number of weeks building topple to the ground, stepping further into the parlour before settling into the chair across from her other half. “I’m not avoiding you because I’m moody- or homesick” Scarlett replies, interrupted before she has the chance to finish. “I know you’re not, but I figured it’d be easier to get you to open up if you could remember how life used to be. Some time where everything was simple, and life wasn’t so complicated” Vic responds, a great disappointment exhibited in her voice, “-a time where we were on better terms.” Her eyes falling just as her face does, Scarlett takes Vic’s remarks to heart, able to uncover the truth behind them as she distances herself from the hardened, closed-off persona she’d crafted. “I guess there’s not-” Scarlett begins to speak, a sudden, pitch-black darkness engulfing the room before her thought can be voiced, the midday sun having simply vanished from the afternoon sky. “The fuck?” Scarlett murmurs beneath her breath, joining Vic in disembarking from their seats, their feet carrying them to each other’s side as they stand before the rear patio doors. After a few moments, the lights in the home power on, their villa’s sensors recognising the darkness that engulfs the Maldives for what it truly is, a perfect representation of a totally caliginous sky comparable to that of night. “Did you do this!?” Scarlett shouts, sliding open the patio doors before stepping onto the terrace, the lack of life that surrounds their home making it impossible to gauge reality in its entirety. “How the fuck would I turn off the sun!?” Vic rebukes, joining her friend on the wooden platform, as their terrace lights powers on, beginning to flicker just as its bulb begins to burn. “Maybe your reality thing fucked the world up!? I don’t know!” Scarlett exclaims, turning to look Vic in the eyes as her hands flail aimlessly. Attempting to offer a second retort, Vic stops herself short, a sudden gust of wind throwing their hair in front of their faces, obstructing their view for a short amount of time. Emanating from their parlour, an awe-inspiring burst of energy takes the form of an incredible light, each lightbulb the villa is illuminated by made to burst in the same moment. Seeking comfort in each other, Scarlett and Vic press their hands together, their minds incapable of comprehending the great power emerging before them, but subconsciously reaching for the other in an understanding that they’re to accept it as a pair. Her face bathed in the light of the earth-shattering wound she steps through, Esotera emerges from the portal, her hand reaching toward the girls as she steps upon solid ground. “You’re needed in the realm” Estonia declares, pulling the girls from the patio with her own telekinetic force, their coupled hands ensuring they’re lured in as one. Returning the way she’d arrived, Esotera steps through the portal with Vic and Scarlett in her possession, the light-bound tear in reality healing up as she returns home, the realm of reality’s sky made whole again as its heat source returns, all returned to normal just as it was created to be. | \ Realm Beyond / “Ah! Fuck you!” Rachel howls, spitting in Suzie’s face from a place of defiance, unable to defend herself as her wrists are bound behind her back. Met with a similar response to that of the first time around, Rachel’s face is rattled by another solid slap, the power behind each strike increasing the longer Suzie has to wait. “Don’t make me tell you again!” Suzie exclaims, her eyes yellowing faster than her brother’s had, the bruise that builds on her side implying the bullet did more damage than just piercing her body. Her service dagger summoned, Suzie graces the soft skin on Rachel’s throat with its immensely sharp edge, a brief confrontation with such radiant heat prompting the hairs on Rachel’s arms to stand. “What are you gonna do, huh? I’m your fucking pawn in this fucked up game!” Rachel shouts, spitting in Suzie’s face once more without care over the consequences. Yet again, Suzie’s hand cracks Rachel across the face, her palm striking the same, exact spot with each attempt, turning the side of the young woman’s face a harsh, bright red. “Shut- the fuck- up!” Suzie exclaims, nearly falling over as she expends her breath, the dagger held to Rachel’s chin once more as the woman stirs. Sat on the ground with her legs outward, Rachel’s position provides no escape, her front facing Suzie whilst her back is directed toward the mezzanine’s descent into the abyss. “Where the fuck are the girls!?” Suzie queries, demanding answers Rachel continues to leave her without, abiding by the stance Jared had taken himself to the grave holding onto. “Go fuck yourself, prick!” Rachel murmurs, again bracing for a harder slap than the one’s she’d taken before, watching Suzie’s hand pull back in preparation to strike her. As a few seconds pass, Rachel’s flesh remains untouched, the puffy side of her face given mercy. “Fuck!” Suzie screams, brought to her knees by the inescapable pain that burns within her, unable to muster the strength required to force Rachel’s hand any further than she already has. “Jesus-fucking-Christ, kid!” Suzie howls, returning to her feet and repositioning her dagger, its point held near Rachel’s throat once more, “don’t make me have to kill you!” Her plea not given a proper response, Suzie watches Rachel’s defiant expression strengthen further, unphased by the triumph her situation’s setting makes it impossible to obtain. “What makes you think I want to live?” Rachel responds, looking Suzie in the eyes as the woman hunches slightly forward, listening to the retort given. “Thanks for telling me what happened to Praireville, by the way- it’s why I can ask that question without being dramatic!” Rachel exclaims, climbing to her knees whilst maintaining eye contact, “I have no home to go back to, no friends to see, no aspirations to have- I’ve got nothing! There’s not even a life to rebuild let alone live!” Pressing her teeth together, Suzie’s eyes pull away from her prisoner, finding great difficulty in arguing against the woman’s argument. “You could patch up the wound, but you couldn’t stop the bleeding from what it looks like” Rachel explains, directing her sights to the growing bruise near Suzie’s hip, “I’ve got a good feeling you’re just as long for this world as I am. So, for that reason, I’ll enjoy the last thing I have to look forward to in life... Watching you die.” Fueled by the anger that courses through her alone, Suzie eyes narrow, her spaced breaths growing more intense as her hand pulls back, prepared to refuse Rachel the satisfaction. In a brief moment, Suzie begins to thrust her arm forward, looking into the woman’s eyes as she does so. Hesitating at the last moment, Suzie watches Rachel’s eyes travel toward the distance, filling with hope despite the fate that appears to draw near to her. Becoming privy to the oddity of the moment within one moment, Suzie relinquishes her dagger, the arm she swings forward instead opting to wrap around Rachel’s neck, pulling her close as she shields herself. Flying through the air, Scarlett’s finger removes itself from the trigger of her service weapon, the element of surprise she’d intended to take Suzie by no longer present. Sliding across the ground, Vic halts her reserve attack just as Scarlett does, their feet meeting solid ground as they confront their penultimate obstacle. “Neither one of you move a fucking muscle!” Suzie commands, stood behind Rachel with the inside of her elbow around the woman’s throat, “I’ll kill her if either of you step out of line!” Just as Suzie had done, the girl relinquish their service weapons, abiding by the demands that Suzie puts in place, thunder beginning to roar as the momentum shifts. “She didn’t ask to be part of this, Suzie” Vic shouts, stepping away from Scarlett’s side to lead the discussion, “let her go and we’ll settle this the way we’re meant to.” With a crooked smile, Suzie shakes her head, using her free hand to dig through her pocket. “Not gonna happen, girls- you’re just gonna have to play by the rules” the woman replies, throwing a bloody scalpel to the girls’ feet, “one of you- drag that blade across the palm of your hand.” “Why would we-?” Scarlett begins to query. “I’m making sure you’re not asleep up there!” Suzie interrupts, answering the woman’s question in a scream, “if you snapped yourselves down here- and you’re vulnerable- you’ll be able to draw blood.” Questioning the order in silence, Vic prepares to respond, only for a metallic noise to catch her by surprise. Turning back, Vic watches Scarlett slice into her hand with a grimace, giving into the command without question. “Look at you!” Suzie shouts, resummoning her service dagger before holding it near the side of Rachel’s face, “you may be ‘team blue’ now, but that fire still-fucking-burns, doesn’t it!?” Hearing Suzie’s deranged response persist, Vic’s attention takes itself away from Scarlett, only returning at the sensation of sharp metal tearing through her palm. “Ah! What the fuck, Scar!?” Vic exclaims, jumping back as she shakes her hand, her blood flowing as Suzie chuckles maniacally. Holding no regret, Scarlett hurls the scalpel back to Suzie, allowing it to rest at Rachel’s feet as fresh blood drips from its hilt. “There, blood drawn” Scarlett replies, stepping forward with her wounded hand extended, gesturing to Suzie for Rachel’s safe return. “Not so fast!” Suzie exclaims, redirecting her dagger in Scarlett’s direction as she steps back, re-establishing the distance Scarlett had shaved away. “What more do you want!?” Scarlett exclaims, expecting an answer shrouded in vague phrasing. “Kill yourselves!” Suzie declares, her reply proving abrupt and straight to the point, unyielding in her desires. “It’s your lives for hers- no exception” Suzie reiterates, a gesture the girls immediately refuse, “Chris’ comparison to a game of chess was spot on. Everything in this realm is nothing more than just another piece- the two of you need to die once for the game to start, and then again for it to end.” “Have you lost your fucking mind!?” Vic exclaims, cautious to say much more out of two states of fear, the first being Suzie’s deranged demeanour, and the second being Scarlett’s unpredictability. “Rachel gets to live when the game ends! That’s my demand!” Suzie exclaims, her dagger continuing to suspend itself in the girls’ direction. “Don’t buy her bullshit!” Rachel exclaims, her chin slightly tilted toward the sky as Scarlett and Vic proceed forward, “she said the same thing to Jared and I! Guess how that turned out!” Her enraged expression falling to one of misplaced fury, Scarlett’s eyes set upon Rachel, working out the equation laid out. “Where’s Jared?” Vic inquires, taking Scarlett’s silence as an opportunity to resume her hold of the discourse. “She killed him” Scarlett murmurs, her voice low, though strong enough for the entire mezzanine to overhear. “She trapped us in some submarine and said she’d take us back to the surface if we told her where you guys settled down!” Rachel exclaims, resisting Suzie’s orders to stop speaking, aware of what her role in the conflict is whilst using it to her advantage, “she flat-out admitted it when we called her out! We fought, we almost won, and then she stabbed him!” “Shut the fuck up you incessant prick!” Suzie screams, burning the side of Rachel’s face with the tip of her dagger before redirecting it toward Scarlett, stopping the girl before she has the chance to intervene. “Stay where you are!” Suzie howls, overcome by the feeling that her control is lessening, the situation falling out of her reach without anything to halt its descent. “Scarlett, I remember you! I remember what happened before you left, and I remember your dad, and I-!” Rachel continues to scream, fighting the added pressure Suzie puts into her semi-chokehold. “I remembered everything before you left us in Paraguay! I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner!” Rachel continues, Suzie’s strength lessening as her authority wanes. “SHUT UP!” Suzie screams, squeezing as tight as she can manage, though unable to prevent Rachel’s lips from continuing to move. “Rachel, we’re gonna get you out of this!” Scarlett replies, trying to stop the woman from proceeding down the wretched line of thinking she worries has been travelled. Losing the will to keep Rachel from talking, Suzie relents, loosening her hold and allowing the woman to blabber without restriction, believing she still holds the power for as long as her grasp on the woman remains intact. “Scarlett, you’re my best friend and I’m so grateful to know you! I know we’ve had our ups and downs, but I’ll always do anything for you!” Rachel confesses, finally able to breathe properly once more, “tell me you understand that!” “Rachel, stop talking like-” Scarlett quickly begins to reply, her orders left discarded as Rachel doubles down. “Tell me you understand that!” Rachel interjects, a tear rolling down her eye as the anger leaves Scarlett’s face, her expression quickly devolving into one of worry, “Scarlett, tell me you understand!” “Rachel, please-” Scarlett once more attempts to beg, falling short of her goal once more. “Scarlett!” Rachel shouts, stopping the woman from saying another unrequested syllable as her voice goes quiet, filled with dread and fear, “tell me you understand!” Her nostrils flaring, Scarlett finds herself fresh out of choices, only able to give into the request made in hopes the tension that fills the air with alleviate in due time. “I understand” Scarlett responds with a sigh, tears of her own beginning to form in the corners of her eye, her hands extended in a show of solidarity. Willing a smile onto her face, Rachel lets out an amused laugh, unable to process her anxiety through any better means. “Good” Rachel replies, nodding to the woman through grateful eyes, her voice falling to a near-whisper, “thank you.” As soon as her face had filled with appreciation, Rachel’s expression scrunches once more, her head firing back before colliding with the bridge of Suzie’s nose, immediately lessening the grasp around her throat. Repositioning herself, Suzie takes Rachel by the collar of the shirt and musters the strength to hoist her over the abyss’ drop, her dagger directed at the girls once more. “One more step and I drop her!” Suzie exclaims, yet to notice the restraints around Rachel’s wrists having slipped off, joining the trapped souls in the cavernous pit below. “Suzie, dont!” Scarlett screams, her hands extending in a show of good faith, her desperation clear in every manner. “Scarlett, it’s fine!” Rachel calmly replies, immediately calming the involved parties without her own serenity, something strange for her to have as she hovers over certain doom, only the tips of her shoes touching the mezzanine’s platform. “Everything’s fine!” Rachel explains, breathing heavily as she speaks through a smile, watching Suzie look at her in a state of shock at the slightest touch. “It’s like I said-” Rachel remarks, wrapping her hands around Suzie’s wrist as a tear rolls down her face, “-anything.” Without warning, Rachel throws herself back, releasing her collar from Suzie’s grasp before extending her arms, vanishing beneath the mezzanine’s level and to the chasm below. Yet to process what’d happened, Suzie steps back as Scarlett launches her pursuit, throwing herself into harms way as she chases after Rachel. Her laughter growing gradually, Suzie soon devolves into a full-blown breakdown, her eyes an ill shade of bronze by this moment as she kneels upon the ground, her eyes taking to Vic. “It looks like it’s just us now” Suzie diabolically remarks, resummoning the service dagger as she climbs to her feet, staring Vic in the eyes as her foe seethes, discovering the rage that Scarlett had succumbed to minutes prior for herself. Without a word, Vic’s breathing slows, her service weapon summoned as she prepares for war, Suzie’s nearly-deceased body stumbling toward her. Aiming the barrel of her gun, Vic prepares to pull the trigger, taking aim at her adversary as she draws near. “Time’s running out for-” Suzie begins to whisper, only stopping herself from continuing at the disappearance of her shadow, the heavenly white light that hovers over the mezzanine’s central tree becoming abruptly obstructed. Her mind trailing away from warfare, Suzie turns her focus where she’d last left it, gazing out at the luminous space she’d just departed from with wonder. Hovering over the abyss’ depths, Scarlett’s body casts a shadow over the pure, white backdrop, casting the level Suzie and Vic stare down upon within her shadow. Her head hung, Scarlett’s face is shielded by loose strands of hair, her eyes looking to Rachel’s lifeless body, which rests within her arms. Silent, Suzie’s service dagger fades into the realm, Vic’s feet carrying her away from the conflict in fear of what is still in store. Her strength exhausted, Suzie drops to her knees, waiting for Scarlett’s face to take toward her own. “Scar?” Vic worriedly calls out, allowing for a few moments to pass before her friend’s face emerges, staring into Suzie’s soul with the most villainous intent. Every last ounce of her eyes presenting a horrid red glow, Scarlett’s face looks to her enemy, the plan she holds in store for the woman permanently carved into stone. “All hail the king!” the legion howl, their voices growing louder as Scarlett’s army rises from the realm’s core at her command, emerging from beneath the level they stand upon to join their ruler’s side. “All hail the king!” the horde screams, their numbers reaching into the thousands as they await Scarlett’s call. “All hail the king!” the chorus cheers, their eyes centring upon Suzie as they chomp at the bit to serve their king. “KILL!” Scarlett howls, sicking her fleet upon Suzie instantly, the ominous, deteriorated souls firing out from the abyss before swarming the last pillar of the realm’s lost era. Like zombies to a corpse, the souls pile atop Suzie’s remains, the last ounce of her life drained at Scarlett’s hand whilst Vic watches from the distance, horrified and speechless. Sickened by the appalling sight, Vic directs her attention toward Scarlett, who continues to hover in the air, watching the events unfold from the best vantage point. Her eyes wandering further through the level, Scarlett’s eyes lock onto Vic’s, their red glow subsiding as they return to normal. Her anger subsiding, Scarlett’s eyes keep on Vic in silence, the expression she wields one of satisfaction rather than regret, accepting what’s happened and what is likely to follow. == Dream Sequence == \ Realm of Reality /
Reemerging from her unconscious state, Rachel’s head slowly lifts, her eyes staring into the harsh spotlight aimed directly into her face. A gentle groan emerging from within her core, Rachel bows her head once more and closes her eyes, the hands tied around her back making it impossible to shield herself from such headache-inducing brightness. As her eyes adjust, the room becomes more detailed, chips in its solid walls as visible as the droplets of water pooling along the floor are audible. Groggy, Rachel takes a closer look at her surroundings, the metal walls that surround her in each direction sloping upward, a circle formed the entire way around her. Blowing a heavy gust of air forward to free her sweaty face from loose strands of hair, Rachel pulls her head back, leaning in her seat as a deep exhale leaves her lungs. “Rachel?” Jared’s voice whispers, immediately capturing her sole, undivided attention. “Jared!” Rachel remarks in a panic, stopped from uttering a word further as the man insists she quiet down. “Shhh!” Jared hisses, actively struggling to free himself from the well-knotted binds, “you need to keep your voice down.” Though he whispers with an emphatic swiftness, Jared’s composure remains relatively intact, his words spoken with care and calmness, his mind trying to deflect their unenviable circumstance with empty optimism. “Where are we?” Rachel inquires, barely able to hear Jared’s hands carefully grating at his restraints. “I don’t know. Wherever it is, I don’t think it’s in the best condition” Jared replies, continuing to whittle away at the sisal-bound shackles behind his back. “Do you remember what happened?” Rachel wonders aloud, lifting her chin toward the air as sweat drips down her throat, hairs sticking to the back of her neck. “I know we got attacked” Jared replies, grimacing every few sentences as his own headache worsens, the spotlight aimed at his front profile, “wait- do you?” In a moment of worry, Jared’s carving ceases, his ear kept out for Rachel’s answer. “Yeah, I remember” Rachel replies, her breaths kept steady as the man across from her resumes his quest for freedom, “-I remember everything.” Continuing to scrape against the binds, Jared nods his head, letting free a breath of relief, “phew. Good” he replies, maintaining his steady progress as his mind reassesses the woman’s response, a sudden curiosity dawning upon him. “Wait, what did you just say?” Jared queries, turning his head as far back as he can manage, the same gesture reciprocated by his other half, Rachel’s eyes barely able to catch a glimpse of his own. “They all came back when Lincoln brought me into the realm. I don’t know how it happened, but all of the thoughts just- they just came back” Rachel replies, her voice wielding a great disappointment. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jared quickly wonders aloud, hearing the conflict in Rachel’s voice as she looks for the right words. “Because I didn’t want you to be mad!” Rachel replies, her dispirited face glistening as her sweat only worsens, “you were just so fucking great to me throughout all of this and, I guess in a selfish way, I thought it’d be easier to put the past behind us if it just didn’t exist at all.” His face falling, Jared continues to sit idle, unsure of how to respond. “The way I hated you doesn’t make sense now” Rachel continues, taking Jared’s pause as an opportunity to speak with more coherence, “I didn’t know I’d like you this much.” Their eyes connecting as best they can, Jared and Rachel sit in silence for a brief moment, their faces holding a smile until a sudden snap rings through their shelter residency. His arms dropping, Jared’s hands pull away from the chair’s back, a slight propulsion forward having freed him from his captor’s imprisonment. “Ha! I’m free!” Jared huffs, his voice kept to a minimum as his attention turns to Rachel’s chair, their backs having spent the length of their captivity facing each other. Given a more favourable advantage, Jared drops to his knee, looking Rachel in the eyes as the blunt scalpel he brandishes is taken to her tethers. “Listen, nothing that’s happened before right now has to matter- at all” Jared explains, finally plunging his blade through the final shreds as Rachel’s hands fall, relieved of their constraints as her face falls into the man’s reach. Reciprocating the woman’s gesture from nights prior, Jared presses his lips into Rachel’s own, offering the woman the confession that her feelings aren’t unrequited. “Everything from here on out- that’s what matters” Jared pledges, his face kept close to the woman’s, their eyes held on each other’s, “we’ll get back home, rebuild what we’ve lost, and see that future we’ve been talking about.” The life in her eyes replenished, Rachel responds with an approving nod as their interaction is cut off. “The two of you confuse me” Suzie remarks, stood near the room’s front in the company of her brutes, Jared and Rachel’s eyes immediately drifting toward her, “at one moment, you’re dumber than rocks. In the next, it’s like you’re the reason ‘bravery’ was coined as a term.” Pulling away from the man on instinct, Rachel finds her shoulder taken into Jared’s pull, her body returned to him as he steps forward, a protective stance taken. “How did you find us?” Jared questions, aiming the scalpel’s point toward Suzie as the woman approaches. “Because your girlfriend here decided to give her parents a ring” Suzie replies, stopping her advancement upon Jared’s confrontational gesture, “I guess she didn’t realise that area codes and country-specific banks were a thing.” Ashamed in herself, Rachel feels the gentle rub of Jared’s hand on her shoulder, given a slight reassurance from his act of good faith. “Move out of the way and let us leave” Jared demands, the scalpel continuing to be extended toward Suzie’s face, which now turns with glee, amused at the man’s orders. “Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s any way you get out of here without me” Suzie responds, her head rolling from one side to the next as she approaches a door on the opposite side of the room. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not on solid ground. Hell, you’re not even on ground level!” Suzie exclaims, her telekinetic powers used to gradually spin the wheel on a nearby bulkhead door. “Back when Chris and I were just starting to fall out, I figured I would need somewhere to stay where he couldn’t stab me in the middle of the night” Suzie explains, “I’d already realised I was compromised by then, so being a decent person wasn’t high on my priority list.” Watching Suzie wander through their compartment, Jared and Rachel stand quietly, their sides pressing together as they step away from the woman’s reach. “So I located an American submarine on patrol, slaughtered its crew and fried its communications,” Suzie explains, her nonchalant tone suggestion a lack of care over the merciless actions she’d taken part in, “and that, lady and gentleman, is where you find yourselves today- two hundred metres below the Arctic Ocean.” Presenting worry for the first time since waking, Jared’s hand begins to tremble, his weapon of choice lowering to his side as realisation begins to set in. “What do you want from us?” Rachel quickly interrupts, taking Jared’s hand into her own as she steps forward, her face millimetres away from Suzie’s own in a moment of courage. Impressed, Suzie takes a step back, a smirk held in one corner of her face as Rachel’s inquiry settles with her. “Unlike Chris, I don’t need two teenagers to do my bidding for me. So, from a tactical standpoint, I don’t really need the two of you for anything” Suzie explains, returning to Razul and Kazro’s side, “but from an informational standpoint, you have some value.” His eyes boldening, Jared returns to Rachel’s side, the obvious question raised. “What does ‘informational standpoint’ mean?” Jared responds, “vague questions are only gonna net you vague answers.” “I’m a bit mad to admit that these are the moments where the two of you really grow on me” Rachel quips, again stepping from her mercenaries’ side to approach the compartment’s opposite end. “I’d be willing to carry you back home- wherever the two of you consider ‘home’ to be- in exchange for some intel” Suzie replies, retrieving a leather bag from beneath a nearby desk and sitting it atop the accompanying chair, “tell me where the girls are and you’ll be on your way.” Squinting, Rachel shares Jared’s confusion, a surprise having come over them. “You don’t know where they are?” Finally displaying a look of disappointment, Suzie unzips the large bag, refusing to reach inside until the couple have made their decision. “Their flight connected in Sri Lanka, I have no idea where they would have gone from there” Suzie replies, leaning over the bag’s top with her arms crossed, “tell me where they are and I’ll have the two of you on your way.” “Why should we believe you?” Jared quickly interjects, his suspicions unwavering, “even if we did tell you, you’ll keep us down here until you can verify it. If you’ve massacred a naval crew to get this sub, what’s stopping you from just giving us a half-hearted ‘thank you’ and leave us to die?” “That’s a very fair point. As a matter of fact, it’s very accurate to the complexity of my character, is it not?” Suzie responds, refusing to instil any confidence the pair have yet to build. “With that said, however, it’s important to point out that you don’t have much of a choice” Suzie replies, her shoulders shrugging as her hands slowly wrap around the bag’s handles, “I’ll get to them through you one way or another. That could be you giving them up, or me using you to lure them out.” “Lincoln already tried that. Not only is that plan unoriginal, but it’s got some holes in it” Rachel remarks, a truth Suzie refuses to argue. “Correct. Lincoln left some holes in it, but I’m not my brother” Suzie responds, getting comfortable with her brother’s smirk in her facial expression, “and originality doesn’t matter if it works.” “What makes you think-?” Jared begins to interrupt, voicing the question allowed to linger with no answer before stopping himself, the sight of Suzie retrieving a pistol from the bag halting his inquiries’ progress. “Because you’ll either give the girls up, or I’ll take one of you as bait” Suzie replies, aimlessly the weapon to the pair’s feet, leaving the option to them, “the one I don’t choose will be left down here with a painful death and a bullet wound for your troubles.” Nothing left to add, Suzie returns the bag to where it was kept, watching the gears shift in the mind of those stood before her. “Take a shot at me, and I’ll stop time and drag whichever one of you lacks that trigger finger in front of the shot” Suzie warns, her arms crossing as she returns to the company of her brutes, “take a shot at yourselves, and the other will be left wondering just what would have happened if you’d taken me up on my offer.” In silence, Jared and Rachel’s sights pull away from the weapon, their faces turning to the other’s as doubt sinks in, a fear that none of what’s been offered will allow them to escape as one. “What’s the call here, Jared?” Rachel quietly asks, her eyebrows furrowed in worry, looking to the man beside her for guidance once more, his composure needed in this moment more than any that have come before it. = Dream Sequence is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = \ Realm of Reality / Stood upon the villa’s terrace whilst sopping wet, Scarlett discards of a common shovel over the bannister’s top, watching it sink beneath the waves and onto the sea floor. “So...” Vic murmurs, her hands coupled behind her back as she watches Scarlett discard her soaked top, “am I supposed to ask why West is dead, how it happened, or drop it entirely?” Squeezing the excess water from her hair whilst dampening the wooden platform beneath her, Scarlett returns to the home, stepping past Vic as she does. “Drop it” Scarlett grumbles, brushing shoulders with the woman as she makes for the house’s depths, able to hear Vic’s footsteps behind her without the woman’s voice to accompany it. Halfway through the hall, Scarlett stops her walk, eyes rolling as her head tilts to the sky, the rest of her body turning toward the woman in her wake. “What?” Scarlett annoyedly asks, wearing a scowl as she eyes Vic, the woman’s arms crossed as she, too, stops walking. “You told me to drop it, so I’m dropping it” Vic replies, purposefully dancing around the question inquired over. “Then why are you following me?” Scarlett wonders aloud, watching Vic’s eyes lift as she visibly considers the answers available. “Because I can” the brunette pompously replies, smiling at her friend as she does to further spike Scarlett’s irritation. “Why can’t you just accept that I want us to stay away from each other for a little while?” Scarlett queries, shaking her head as she resumes her departure, making for the room at the hall’s end. “Because I saw how that ended. It may not have been us, but I know how this ‘distance’ ends” Vic replies, matching Scarlett’s pace as she follows, “do you think Lincoln and Suzie were all that close by the time he kicked the bucket?” Her sigh noticeable, Scarlett steps into her room and makes for the dresser, a simple objective of retrieving a fresh pair of clothes taking her mind. “Vic, I have no clue if distance is the best choice- I don’t even know what is!” Scarlett exclaims, looking to Vic as she reaches for the first shirt her hand touches, “but you trying to force a conversation- or whatever you’re looking for- it’s not making me like you any more than I already did!” “Then stop pulling away” Vic replies, her feet planted just ahead of Scarlett’s door as she leans against its frame, head resting against her left arm. “Vic, there are some things I’m trying to do that I do not need your help with” Scarlett responds, forcing the drawer shut as she quickly throws the orange t-shirt over her head, “we don’t need to be together twenty four-seven in order to not be distant.” “What happened yesterday morning, then?” Vic quickly qualms, putting Scarlett’s reply to the test, “you came home like you’d just started the third world war. Why?” Shaking her head, Scarlett extends her hand through the air, a half-heartened tone carried in her voice as she replies. “I’ll see you later, Vic” Scarlett replies, deliberately refusing to answer as she teleports herself to her first thought, leaving Vic with an expression of scorn. Running her hands through her hair, Vic paces around the room in frustration for a few moments, her composure loosening as the anger builds within her. Before long, Vic’s eyes wander toward Scarlett’s door just as her legs do, carrying her through the opening and back toward the parlour, the absence of a destination proving the effort to be largely pointless. Her hand balled into a fist, Vic steps into the front room, the Arabian Sea’s calm, warm waters somehow only elevating her aggravation. “God-fucking-damnit!” Vic exclaims, her fist unclenching as she swipes at the air, her punch thrown with the intent of alleviating her aggravation, only for its results to be even less explainable. With little pre-emption, Vic’s multi-million dollar villa vanishes, the spot on the floor she’d stood now turned into a mound of sand, the clear air she’d been surrounded by now dark and absent of light. The change noticed instantly, Vic takes a step back, losing her balance as she falls to the ground, its makeup composed of more, loosely-packed sand. Her first instinct being to glance at her hand, Vic starts to worry, fearful that she’d, without being aware of it, inflicted the realm above with a reality-altering wound. Trembling, Vic pushes herself back to her feet, eyes panning around each direction of the strange, dimension-crushing environment she’s stepped through, unsure of how to depart. Shone upon by a single spotlight, Vic’s eyes take to the patterned tent surrounding her, their circus-like appearance bringing a horrible ambience with it. The air fogged and misty, the tent’s spacious ground remains largely unoccupied, the small hill Vic had begun atop all that stands out of place, the rest of the ground level and untouched. With a deep breath, Vic’s mind shifts itself into auto-pilot, retracing her steps in hopes of uncovering a secret escape hatch from her hallucinatinatory predicament. Her fist easing into a straight hand once more, Vic swipes her hand through the air once more, the carnival veil disappearing as suddenly as it had arrived, replaced with the original villa as hoped for. Struggling to comprehend what’d just occurred, Vic steps back, inevitably colliding with the nearest slate of drywall. Mumbling unintelligible remarks beneath her breath, Vic steps away from the parlour, her hands pressing against anything solid, trying to convince her subconscious that reality had been restored. | \ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office / Slowly growing used to the aftermath of her transportation, Scarlett lands with her feet flat in the realm beyond, her immediate intentions disregarded upon her first glance at the room she arrives into. With little interest in her presence, blank faces pass her with other goals in mind, stepping around her in an effort to complete their work as if she were any other obstruction. “This isn’t wh-” the woman begins to speak, her sentence finished by a second voice, its presence more angelic and boisterous than her own. “This isn’t where you intended to arrive” Mother replies, holding the same posture as she had in each of her prior occurrences, hands pressed together as she steps forward, her face as empty as Scarlett had always known it to be. “Y’know, if you’re gonna give me the power to freely teleport to the first place that comes to mind, you really shouldn’t fuck with it” Scarlett replies, her shoulders shrugging as Mother steps forward, “-it could really throw a girl off.” “You say that as if you don’t already know what you’re here for” Mother responds, her progression halting just a few metres away from the intrigued blonde. “I don’t” Scarlett replies, her left eyebrow raised as she summons her service weapon, glancing into its blue strobe just for certainty before relinquishing it, “is that a problem?” “It is” Mother answers, her head slowly lowering to one side, Scarlett’s silence offering her plenty of time to craft elaboration, “you’ve already been told what awaits you on the other end. Expecting anything less is just foolish and disingenuous.” Having stood with one foot further outward, Scarlett’s stance adjusts, her legs resting beside each other as her body turns fully to the immortal spirit. “Maybe it’s more hopeful than you have the ability to realise” Scarlett corrects, gradually stepping closer to the woman as she speaks, “maybe you’ve spent too long here to know what the difference between foolish and optimism is.” With a shrug, Mother’s head veers off, eying the corner Scarlett and Vic’s elusive set of double doors usually appears through. “I am the physical manifestation of this realm. There is not a life, nor a concept specific to your world that I don’t understand or have a role in” Mother responds, her face continuing to direct itself away from Scarlett’s as she paces around, the floor open for her voice to occupy. “There’s a reason weaknesses are so difficult for regular mortals to overcome. It can’t be a weakness if people actively strive to avoid it” Mother explains, listing examples at will. “It feels rewarding to save a pig from the slaughter, it’s pure euphoria- for a short time, at least- when medicines and influence course through your veins” the apparition persists, “just as it’s easy to be delusional. You refuse to accept what you know lies ahead because it lets you avoid the end.” “I’m not letting Suzie live to keep myself from killing Vic” Scarlett replies, her statement quickly agreed to, “oh, I know you’re not” Mother replies with sincerity. Her hands still folded, Mother inevitably circles around Scarlett entirely, returning to the place she’d initially begun the rotation before stopping. “I’m saying weaknesses were created purposefully” Mother explains, “it’s not something you could talk your way out of. You were either mentally and morally strong- or you weren’t.” “And now you’re testing our strength?” Scarlet concludes, an implication Mother allows to sit silently for a moment, matching the woman’s gesture of keeping silent. “Neither of us asked for this to happen, alright? You chose for it to” Scarlett corrects, another few steps taken forward as she draws nearer to Mother, the figure remaining quiet, “what happened to free will? What happened to choosing how we live our lives?” “Free will is a concept made up by mortals to better understand what they can’t- that they’ve already died before they reach the grave, but they just haven’t gotten there yet” Mother corrects, her tone slightly less frail, more command and hurry within her speech. “It’s just the same as when you’d reshape the realm- fitting it to a one-by-one recreation of your world” Mother continues, a gesture Scarlett finds difficulty in refuting, “haven’t you noticed that- since you passed the tragedies- you haven’t seen much of it?” Pulling her head back, Scarlett stops stepping forward, allowing Mother to continue speaking as she now proceeds closer, approaching Scarlett with her soft tone returning. “I needed mortals to have weaknesses because there can be no such thing as a ‘perfect person’” Mother explains, her face lifting toward Scarlett’s the closer she steps, “why would the realm beyond be needed if the realm above were in good hands to begin with?” Letting free the deep inhale she’d amassed, Scarlett’s mind wraps around the statements made, attempting to piece together the claims. “So, you need a guardian for the realm for what reason?” Scarlett inquires, that question yet to be given a finite conclusion, “you’ve given yourself a body- sort of- what’s keeping you from doing the damn job yourself?” The corners of her mouth reaching into a smile, Mother parts her hands as she closes into Scarlett, her hand resting on the woman’s shoulder. “It’s like you said” Mother responds, face again held toward Scarlett’s own, “I’m too far removed from your world to understand it.” Her eyes narrowing, Scarlett stares into the figure’s empty, featureless expression, “I guess what they say is true” Scarlett replies, her shoulders lowering, “no one- at all- is perfect.” | \ Realm of Reality / “I know I may technically be dead, but there are still places I’d like to be” Suzie remarks, her hands folded atop her lap as she occupies the seat her bag once had, the gun still laying on the ground between the pair. “Scarlett and Vic are gonna wipe the floor with you, so we want a goddamn guarantee” Jared replies, his left leg protruding forward as his finger points toward the ground. “It may only slightly amuse me, but I’ve got no reason to leave you down here” Suzie replies, keeping Jared from finishing his demands, “the only reason you have not to take the offer is because you don’t trust me.” “And we have every right to!” Rachel declares, taking Jared’s posture a literal step forward, pulling away from the man to further confront their captor. “I never said you didn’t. I’m a realist- of course you do!” Suzie chuckles, resting her right arm against the nearest desk, her chin propped up with the base of her hand, “that said, it’s the only ticket- reliable or not- that two of you have at getting out of here alive.” “Not necessarily” Jared interrupts, retrieving the weapon from the ground before stepping forward, its barrel aimed at the ground as he extends his arm. “You could hold us for answers from somewhere else” Jared remarks, his eyes switching between Suzie and her legionnaires, “face it, you statistically stand a better chance at taking them out if you caught them by surprise. Take us somewhere we stand a better chance of making it out alive from and we’ll give you what you want.” Her eyes pressing closer together, Suzie considers the suggestion, a glance toward Razul and Kazro taken as she contemplates the offer. “You’ve got no good reason to decline that” Jared clarifies, earning Suzie’s attention once more, the look on her face suggesting his remarks may be getting him somewhere, “you get what you want just as we do. The only reason- not even a good reason, just a reason- not to accept it is if you truly don’t have any intention of letting us out of here.” Her eyes narrowing, Suzie continues her silent observation, the man’s point having been voiced to completion, only left to wait for the answer. “I don’t trust you” Suzie replies, pushing her chair out before her hands press against its back, its wheels locked into place. “You’re full of shit” Jared responds, retaining her attention as his retort concludes, “you wanted the element of surprise, so you dangle the illusion of freedom in front of our faces hoping we’d give them up!” Crossing her arms, Suzie shakes her head as Jared continues, breaking her motives down brick by brick. “You’d kill one of us and take the other if you could, but you held out the hope for the easier choice- that’s why we’re here” Jared remarks, “it’s all a ploy.” “And you expected there to be blood. We’d either both die down here and you’d settle things the easy way, or we’d both die and things would get messy” Rachel finishes Jared’s point, “the amount of blood spilled would depend on whether or not you got your way.” With a sigh, Suzie’s head shake continues with a smile, her chin beginning to nod as the truth comes to light. “You have no clue how much I hate having to see either of you die right now” Suzie replies, nearly amused to the point of laughter, “that was such good-fucking-detective work!” Extending the gun toward their watchdog, Jared holds his aim on Suzie, the woman’s amusement slowly beginning to settle as confrontation begins. “Have I not already told you how this ends, kid?” Suzie inquires, stepping away from the desk whilst approaching the pair, the gun still held firmly in the air, ready to fire at any moment. “You sure did. Now the easy way is off the table- you’ve gotta get your hands dirty” Jared responds, pulling away from Rachel as he turns the barrel on himself, his eyes meeting the woman’s as the tide turns. “Oh! I didn’t see that one coming!” Suzie exclaims, amused with the selfless display of heroics, her crossed arms stiffening as the couple look to each other. “Jared, you don’t need to do this!” Rachel pleads, the man’s head shake implying he has no intentions of being talked off the ledge he stands on the brink of. “Rach’, she can use you as bait, but at the very least- you’ll make it out of here alive” Jared responds, his breaths heavy, a nervousness concealed deep within him. Pausing for a moment, Rachel holds her hands outward, trying to keep Jared from following through with his presentation. “Jared, would you believe me if I said there was another way?” Rachel wonders aloud, able to spot the shift in the man’s expression with ease as her eyes take toward Suzie. “There’s as much of a chance she’d let me live after all of this as there was of her letting us both out- everything that comes from her mouth is a lie” Rachel explains, gently taking Jared by the hand before pulling him close, their faces drawing near as she finishes her thought. “She’ll kill me when we get back to land- I know it. So, if I’m gonna die, I want it to be quick- like a bullet” Rachel explains, repositioning herself beside Jared, her head lined up with the bullet’s point of exit, “we might as well not leave her the hard way either.” Her pleased expression quickly fading, Suzie watches Rachel threaten double suicide with a look of irritation, her initial plan rapidly falling out of reach. “Alright, I’ll admit it- I did not see this coming” Suzie explains, allowing her arms to unfold as the pair look her in the eye, the only chance she has at the plan’s redemption being that of Jared’s hesitation. Without a word, the sides keep their eyes upon each other, Jared’s finger resting on the trigger whilst Suzie’s hang by her side. Steadying his breaths, Jared watches Suzie’s hand carefully, readying to launch the first strike at a moment’s notice. “You’ve really-” Suzie proclaims, cutting herself short as her hands thrust forward, failing to catch Jared by surprise as his barrel is redirected, the trigger pulled before Suzie can leap through time. As quickly as he’d fired the weapon, Jared’s hand sits empty, Suzie having not only disarmed him of the weapon during a time freeze, but having thrown Rachel and himself across the room from each other. Crashing into the ground, Jared watches Razul collapse from the corner of his eye, killed via the stray bullet he’d fired whilst Rachel tumbles to the ground, Suzie stood directly between them. “-fucked up” Suzie concludes, directing her aim toward Rachel’s head as she stares into Jared’s eyes, wanting to see his reaction as the woman he’d sworn to protect falls victim to her hand. “Terrific choice, good s-” Suzie mocks, unable to finish her thought before Rachel’s counterattack strikes her first. “Aaahhh!” Rachel howls, plunging the garden dibber she’d barely managed to sneak into her waistband the night prior into Suzie’s chest cavity, immediately destabilising her shot. Finger kept to the trigger, Suzie’s hand veers toward the vessel’s rear, the bullet she unintentionally fires off proving costly. Struck in the right eye, Kazro drops to his knees, his face bloodied as he collapses, Suzie’s second mercenary dropping dead. In shock, Suzie stammers back, keeping the dibber lodged where it last stood, using it to stop the bleeding from worsening. Retaining the wherewithal to understand what’s unfolding, Suzie reassesses her aim, the barrel returning toward Rachel just as Jared gets involved. Still armed himself, Jared plunges the rusty scalpel into Suzie’s arm, earning another horrified yelp as the gun falls from her hand, the wounds she’s accumulated requiring attention as she loses her balance, the advantage held in the teen’s favour. Noticing his opportunity, Jared scrambles across the floor, his hand barely able to wrap around the firearm’s grip as he takes to his feet, preparing to deliver Suzie a final, fatal attack. “Get down!” Rachel screams, trying to guide Jared back toward the ground as Suzie lunges forward, her service dagger summoned. Unable to process the warning sooner, Jared’s aim settles, falling from Suzie as she marches forward, the red glow of her dagger’s composition driving into him out of desperation. Covering her mouth, Rachel falls silent, watching Suzie fall back as Jared hunches over, his blood spilling onto the ground as he tends to the wound, his hands pressing into his abdomen. Struggling for breath, Jared convulses, struggling to speak as blood trickles from his mouth. “Jared! Jared, please get up!” Rachel exclaims, horrified by how the conflict had unfolded, their abductor struggling to regain her balance as the realisation of her deed sinks in. “Jared, please- please get up!” Rachel pleads, his arm taken into her hand as her face rests close to his. “You need to go!” Jared groans, mustering the strength to take her hand into his own, the blood from his wound gracing her palm. “No, I need you to get up!” Rachel shouts, periodically glancing back as Suzie struggles to her feet, stumbling closer with her hand extended. “Let her take you- then take her out” Jared grunts, his forehead pressing into Rachel’s as Suzie closes in, her non-dominant hand falling upon the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t let her win!” Jared shouts, his hand pulling away from Rachel’s at the last second, all physical contact broken as Suzie’s finger snaps, returning to solid ground with Rachel by her side, Jared’s refusal to return with her done in the name of self-sacrifice. Gasping for air, Jared rolls onto his back, his mouth quickly filling with blood as he lays alone, the hand he’d held Rachel’s with kept in a fist as he passes on. “I love you” he mutters beneath his breath, not a sole around him to hear it, the frigid waters of the Arctic above ensuring the words die with him, forever buried deep within depths unattended to. == Dream Sequence == \ Realm of Reality /
“There must have been something you did” Vic whispers to herself, her bikini and tunic dress replaced by a pair of grey slacks and a blue button up shirt. Her bedroom barely smaller than the parlour on the opposite side of the room, Vic sits within its corner, her eyes glued to the moving screen of her computer as countless snapshots flutter up from the screen’s bottom before vanishing beyond its top. Though each photograph, some in colour whilst others remain in their original, black and white form, flashes by her face, not a single one stands out as familiar, each face as unaccustomed to her as the next. “Fuck!” Scarlett exclaims, slamming into a wall just beyond Vic’s closed bedroom door, her feet carrying her past Vic’s room and to her own a slight distance further. Her attention taken from the screen, Vic waits silently as Scarlett’s shoes tap along the ground, counting every step in her head. Pressing her hand against the wall, Scarlett proceeds to her bedroom, the door quietly closing behind her in an effort to avoid a confrontation. “Rough day?” Vic wonders aloud, appearing in the centre of the room with her arms crossed, startling the already-dazed blonde enough for Scarlett to trip over herself retreating, her weight sent into the door. “Jesus! What the hell’s gotten into you!?” Vic exclaims, lowering her arms as she steps forward, attempting to provide aid for her obviously-troubled friend. “No! I don’t need help!” Scarlett shouts, slapping Vic’s hand the moment her skin’s graced by it, quickly attempting to push herself up. “Scarlett, what’s going on!?” Vic inquires, watching the woman wave off her help as she uses the wall for support, “you look like a fucking mess!” “Thanks, hot stuff- I’ll be sure to put that in my memoir!” Scarlett jests, discarding her knapsack in the room’s corner as she advances toward a set of drawers near her bed. “You get my point- what’s going on?” Vic responds, yet to redirect her attention, though Scarlett wishes she would. “Nothing’s wrong, just leave it alone” Scarlett replies, reaching for the first t-shirt that finds her hand as she interrupts Vic’s attempt to do dissimilarly, “leave it the fuck alone, Vic!” Her mouth hanging open for just a moment, Vic’s lips soon press together, her friend’s dirt-covered tank top and grass stained jeans replaced for a baggy blue t-shirt and a pair of blue jean shorts. “This is how it’s gonna happen, isn’t it?” Vic wonders aloud, provoking Scarlett into matching her attempt at productive dialogue with purposefully vague statements. “How what happens?” Scarlett half-heartedly asks, not as interested in the discussion as she is in unravelling the open-ended nature of Vic’s remark. “How we get to killing each other. This is how it starts, isn’t it?” Vic replies, watching Scarlett’s face turn toward her slightly, her pupils taken to the corners of her eyes, “you shut me out until we grow distant. Then we’ll just be two strangers fighting for a piece of furniture.” Scoffing at the suggestion, Scarlett shakes her head, throwing the blue t-shirt over her stained top, “we’re not gonna kill each other, Vic” she replies, wishing to put the discourse aside. “Then make up your fucking mind, Scar!” Vic yells, her friend purposefully offering her the cold shoulder, “are we incapable of defying what the realm wants, or are we gonna spend the rest of our lives living in denial about what it wants.” “It wants us to get rid of Suzie” Scarlett replies, the mere sight of comfortable pants bringing Scarlett audible relief in the form of a sigh. “So, that’s your plan? Keep her alive until we don’t have to kill each other anymore?” Vic inquires, again met with little assistance from Scarlett, who struggles to slide off the tight denim holding onto her legs for the dearest of life. “My plan is that I don’t have a fucking plan” Scarlett replies, forcefully prying her leg free from the jeans’ restrictive cuff, “as long as she’s around, the realm’s not interested in anything else.” Covering her eyes with her hand, Vic rubs her temples with the tip of her fingers, trying to relieve herself of a headache she can feel beginning to build. “And what happens when we get rid of her?” Vic inquires, her second hand seeking comfort atop her hip, “we just pretend we don’t know what it wants from there?” Scowling, Scarlett lowers her feet into the jean shorts, her answer barely loud enough to make it out from beneath her breath. “Then we take it one day at a time” Scarlett replies, buttoning her pants as they slide past her thighs, her ensemble only in need of a decent pair of running shoes. Left in silence for a moment, Scarlett grabs the first pair of chequered shoes from the near rack, her feet slid into their comfortable embrace as she prepares to leave. “Why are you trying to push me away?” Vic inquires, raising the question just as Scarlett’s shoulder brushes her own, the blonde stopping mid-step once the query reaches her ear. Her bottom lip pressed between her teeth, Scarlett takes two steps back, looking Vic in the eyes as the question lingers, fluttering through the air having yet to be answered. Looking Vic in the eyes, Scarlett remains silent, her mouth opening without any intention of offering an answer. Cutting her losses, Scarlett leaves the qualm where it resides, resuming her departure by stepping past Vic and reclaiming her knapsack, the snap of her finger accompanying her elsewhere. Watching Scarlett vanish, Vic remains in the position she was left standing in, her chin lifting toward the ceiling as she shakes her head, letting free a deep sigh. “We’re losing it” Vic whispers to herself, closing her eyes as she makes for the door, departing Scarlett’s room in favour of her own, the slightest grasp she’d once held toward hope growing weaker as the days pass. = Dream Sequence is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = \ Realm of Reality / “El pollo. ¿Dónde está?” Jared inquires, approaching a man at random as Rachel follows closely behind with a shopping cart. Inspecting Jared for a moment, the old man holds back a laugh at the sight of a pasty young man trying his best to speak his language. “El letrero que dice 'asador' en la parte trasera del mercado. Ve allí” the man replies, speaking too fast for Jared to understand much of what’s said, the important parts luckily sticking out from the rest. “Gracias” Jared remarks, the wheels on the trolley behind him nearly drowning out the man’s response of “si seguro”. After a few moments, the pair reach the rotisserie, its line relatively short and manageable. “This place has a bank nearby, right?” Rachel whispers to the nearest person, a confused look worn on the woman’s face. “¿Hay un banco aquí?” Jared interjects, already becoming too familiar with earning the same expression. “Creo que hay un Regional cerca de la parte de atrás de la tienda” the woman replies, her finger aimed across the shop’s interior. “We use Regional, right?” Jared queries, his answer given in the form of a nod, “she said there’s probably one at the back of the store.” “Can you keep an eye on the cart?” Rachel inquires, stepping away from its handle as Jared takes her place, freeing her to make the journey through stocked shelves and patterned floors. As she nears the bank, Rachel takes a quick glance in the direction she’d arrived, reluctant to believe she hadn’t been followed without proof. “¿Retiro o depósito?” the clerk inquires, watching Rachel approach the desk cautiously, her hands restless and anxious. “Can I use your phone?” Rachel queries, the same response she’d earned from the lady near the rotisserie now given to her by the cashier. “Fuck- uh” Rachel murmurs, her pinky finger and thumb extending as she holds her hand against the side of her head, “Phone? Teléfono?” Assuming the woman is unable to speak spanish, the clerk quietly nods her head, retrieving the landline from beneath the counter before setting it down before the concerned woman. “Thank y- Gracias” Rachel mutters, removing the phone from the receiver before taking a moment to recall the number, a few seconds passing before her fingers make contact with the buttons. Her hand shaking, Rachel’s dialling concludes as she lifts the phone to her ear, her quivering breaths playing out with the empty buzzing sound from the opposite end of the call. “Hi, you’ve reached the Endrue residency, we’re unfortunately not at the phone” the answering message remarks, Rachel’s eyes beginning to tear as their lids press together, a smile brought upon her face as the familiar voices speak to her. “Please leave a message, and we’ll call you back the first chance we get!” her mother’s welcoming voice concludes, falling silent just as the machine takes over. “H- hi, mom” Rachel stutters, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes before the clerk begins to assume something was wrong, “it’s Rachel.” Not having fleshed out what she’d wanted to say, Rachel says whatever the first things to cross her mind are, her heart inspiring most of the one-sided discourse. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m alright. I’m okay and I’m healthy. There was a little- uh- fogginess, we’ll say- but that’s all better now” Rachel explains, the coff of her long-sleeved shirt beginning to dampen with salty tears, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m okay, and that you shouldn’t worry about me.” The sadness she carries evident in her voice, Rachel musters a mood-defying smile, trying to make peace with the world she’d been unceremoniously welcomed into. “I have to lay low for a little bit, but I’m okay and-” she continues, the true sorrow she holds deep within beginning to grow beyond her reach, “-and I miss you. I miss you, and I miss dad. I miss Praireville, and I miss everything. I’m trying to keep our morale high over here, so I haven’t been able to say that in so long.” Taking in a deep breath, Rachel continues to say her peace, her elbow pressed against the hard countertop as she continues. “I miss my life, and I miss just being able to be there with you. I’m happy where I am, but it’s just so hard being away” Rachel furthers, her tears just starting to fall from her chin, “I hope this will all just be over soon. I hope I can pretend this was all one strange, and weird, and fucked up dream. I hope everything will just be normal again, y’know?” Fearing the possibility of the machine cutting her off, Rachel begins to finish her message, the smile held steady upon her face despite the overwhelming pit built within her core. “I’ve got to go now, but I wanted you to know I was okay. I wanted you to know that everything’s gonna be alright” Rachel concludes, an expression of confidence replacing the dejection-laden visage she’d worn moments prior. “I’ll come home one day. I’ll see you again” Rachel continues, the dolour behind her words replaced with a stoic assurance, “I love you, mom and dad. Be safe.” Abruptly ending the call, Rachel returns the phone to its receiver and bows her head in the teller’s direction, returning too Jared’s side as she wipes the tears from her face, a newfound purpose discovered. | \ Paradox / “I just can’t help myself, can I?” Vic mutters to herself, continuing to walk the trail beneath a dark, stormy night in search of one building in particular. Each step carrying her over loose gravel, Vic nears the top of a hill, sparse droplets of water beginning to fall as the sky grows lighter in the distance, its gloomy, night time glow replaced by the deep, orange hue of an evening sunset. Each step carrying her closer, the sunset-sights reveal themselves for what they truly are, the pellets of rain gradually continuing to fall harder, slowly building up as sirens draw close. “What the hell?” Vic mutters to herself, watching flames climb toward the heavens, undisturbed by the fact that their reach just fails to measure up to what sits above. In unmanageable flames, the town house burns beneath the night sky, its wooden structure doomed the moment heat began to build. “Help!” a familiar voice screams, pleading with the fire trucks to drive faster, not a single one carrying the water needed to put out such a fleet of furious flames. Her walk having turned into a run, which now turns into a hover as she glides through the air, Vic draws closer to the siblings, their faces flushed with a perilles despair. “Two of them are on the-” Lincoln begins to explain, the first firefighter he encounters shoving him back with his shoulder, running through the large man whilst disregarding his plea. “Hey!” Suzie exclaims, beginning to chase after the man responsible for her brother’s attack, her anger directing itself upon the worker. As her chase persists, Suzie’s forced into a full stop, the sound of structural groaning now carries itself through the yard as the top-most level begins to descend. Having given his sister chase, Lincoln takes the young woman by the arm and pulls her back, tackling her to the ground as the flames shoot outward from the home, propelled forward by the home itself, the wooden structure giving out as its supports burn beyond repair. If not by the soaring flames that tear through the air of a hot, summer’s night, the souls still clinging to life within the building are crushed beneath the weight of its edifice, their survival all but unfavourable if any hope had been spared to begin with. Having seen the building’s toppling as an inevitability, Lincoln’s last shred of hope dies off in the final moment, his efforts to save his sister from permanent scarring now the only good he can do. Unable to watch, Suzie buries her face in the freshly-cut grass, listening to the building howl as it crashes into the ground, a heavy gust of wind carrying the flames throughout, targeting the firefighters tending to its control first and foremost. With a flurry of shouts, the workers collapse to the ground, tending to their wounds as best they can whilst others tend to them, the lack of a warning making it impossible to escape the home’s wrath before it was too late. “Chris, tell me it didn’t fall!” Suzie exclaims, her eyes pressed together as the roaring ceases, the back of her head pelted with raindrops as the storm begins to roll in. “Chris!” Suzie shouts for a second time, her arms forcibly pressing his sister’s hands to her sisters, not wanting to let the woman go. “I can’t do that, Suz’” Lincoln replies, shielding the woman’s face with his shoulder, remaining as composed as he can manage in the face of their family’s demise. Despite the siblings not knowing, Vic remains watching over them, stood in the grass just a short distance away with her arms hung, the knowledge she has of the pair making it difficult to perceive this moment as legitimate and genuine, a very similar feeling to that of their final encounter left with her. | \ Realm Beyond / “Just tell me you didn’t take sleeping pills to get in here” Esotera remarks, accompanying Scarlett through the realm with a concerned look on her face. “I’m not asleep” Scarlett replies, met with a look of surprise. “You’re not asleep?” Esotera responds, the inquiry one Scarlett takes little concern over, confirming it with relative ease. “Scarlett, you’re vulnerable here!” Esotera warns, stepping in front of the woman to prevent her advancement any further, “if you’re not asleep, you’re not protected in here. You don’t get that safety net!” Her hand placed against Esotera’s shoulder, Scarlett gently shoves the woman away from her path, a lack of care taken in the remark. “I don’t plan on being here long” Scarlett replies, summoning her service weapon as a ghoul draws close, a charge fired through its expressionless skull despite its docile appearance. “I need answers, and letting the realm know I’m making myself vulnerable to it will help that” Scarlett replies, her destination approaching. “You don’t know what the realm wants” Esotera replies, speaking from a genuine place of worry as she continues to play the role of Scarlett’s shadow, “with Suzie still around, this stunt of yours could be really dangerous.” Stopping mid-walk, Scarlett looks Esotera in the eyes from a place of aggravation, her temper becoming much easier to earn than it has normally been. “Everything we do- whether it’s in our sleep or while we’re awake- is for this fucking monstrosity” Scarlett replies, relinquishing her weapon to the realm’s tow, “all of it’s dangerous. So, with that logic, there’s not a damn thing that I- or that Vic- can do that isn’t dangerous.” With a frown, Esotera lowers her head to one side and watches Scarlett continue, an inability to argue the point made. “Just be careful, please” Esotera calls out, watching the woman continue to walk off with little ability to dissuade her. “I’m not making promises” Scarlett shouts back, ascending the steps to the mezzanine’s ground, unable to think of a more reasonable place to seek answers than chaos’ apparent favourite setting. Its ascending level spiralling around the central bonsai tree, Scarlett’s eyes take to the gradually-elevating passageway at each end of the circular chasm, the white lights above its apparent end-point. “Hey, weirdo!” Scarlett calls out, beginning her climb toward the mezzanine’s highest point, each attempt left with a brief pause, an open space to interject thoughts left for Mother to occupy. “Yo, you faceless bitch!” Scarlett barks, her voice carried throughout each level, rising higher with each increase in her octaves, “am I gonna waste my time here, or are you running late? I’m here, where are you!?” As if on command, the bright light just over the abyss’ head becomes obstructed, a large object descending from the curious skylight above. Peering upward and squinting, Scarlett watches a large object plummet through the mezzanine’s centre, its features more apparent as it passes Scarlett’s floor. Stripped of most personality, Scarlett watches the police cruiser tear through the air front-first, its blue and red lights barely apparent as it enters the dark, lifeless gorge. As seconds pass, the car finally reaches its final destination, its metal twisting and glass windows shattering as the sound is carried upward, heavily deepened by the distance travelled. On impulse alone, Scarlett leaps from her platform in search of answers, embracing the great unknown with open arms as she dives toward the bottom. Her service weapon summoned, Scarlett slows her descent, the crippled remains of the vehicle’s husk reflecting the light she shines upon it, her feet finally reaching solid ground soon after. Barely able to see the divine light above, Scarlett nuzzles herself into the void she’d knowingly entered into, her service weapon barely providing the emptiness with light. Peering into what used to comprise the front seat, Scarlett notices the lack of a fourth, driver’s side door, its remnants the only part of the cruiser detached as all others sit with the rest in a heap. “All hail the king!” Scarlett’s ears take to, the collective chants emanating from beyond the entrance to a spacious tunnel, its walkway the only passage available for the realm’s keeper. “All hail the king!” the legion continues, repeating the chant as Scarlett draws nearer, acting on the impulse that had driven her to the abyss’ heart as she steps through the corridor, the sound growing louder as seconds pass. Her light barely affecting the walls, Scarlett continues to hear each howl emerge from the hallway’s endpoint, its sound drawing her closer, the voices striking a fire within her soul. Given light for the first time, Scarlett rounds the first corner she comes across, the scene she comes across unimaginably eerie. Its monolithic size less awe-inspiring than the mysterious light green glow that lights it, an open monument sits filled with feral ghouls in the thousands, each pair of red eyes taking to her upon arrival. “All hail the king!” they scream, extending their deteriorating arms toward the heavens with gratitude, welcoming their ruler with a sickly admiration and regard. “All hail the king!” the chorus sing once more, the discontinuation of their cheer apparently yet to fall in sight, prompting Scarlett to awkwardly step away from the crowd, slowly stepping back in favour of returning to the tunnel. On the verge of throwing up, Scarlett turns her back to the ghouls, beginning to step through the walkway before the inside of her right arm falls into strangely familiar possession. Turning her head, Scarlett locks eyes with a spirit stranger than the rest, its face and body half-devoured, the flesh that remains wrenched with desperation. Unable to speak, the figure continues to look Scarlett in the eyes, the woman failing to recognise him for a few moments. “What the fuck are you?” Scarlett inquires, curiously drawn closer to the figure before finally veering her sights toward the untouched portion of his face, a sudden realisation coming over her. With mercy, Scarlett summons her service weapon with her free hand, its barrel pressing against the ghoul’s head before the trigger is pulled. Killed, the ghoul relieves Scarlett’s arm from its grasp as its remains fall into her arms. Relinquishing the weapon, Scarlett snaps her fingers together and departs the realm beyond, continuously cheered by the army she leaves behind, the lone regressive soul returning to the realm of reality alongside her. | \ Realm of Reality / “What’s so funny!?” Jared laughs, his plate cleaned of the dinner Rachel had spent the evening preparing, the fork he’d used to do it left beside the ceramic platter. “We live in a place where it never snows, and we have all the land we could possibly need!” Jared exclaims, Rachel’s humoured expression kept as a glass of water lifts to her lips, “tell me, what reason do we have to not put in an underground pool?” “My body isn’t built for a bikini, should we start with that?” Rachel replies, their collective laughter contained within the bright orange walls of their kitchen. “The only people living here are the two of us, why wear a bikini when you can just swim naked?” Jared jokes, sharing Rachel’s amusement before doubling down, “I know it sounds funny, but it’d be a waste of money to buy bikinis and trunks when there’s literally zero reason to.” “Cost-efficient doesn’t make it a good reason” Rachel replies, sliding her fork past her lips as she chews the final bite of her meal, allowing Jared a fair chance at defending his deep-end desires. “Alright, when it’s hot, we can use the pool instead of the A/C!” Jared replies, watching Rachel’s eyes roll as her back leans into the seat. “If we have the money to install an in-ground pool, how is electricity a problem?” Rachel counters, watching Jared’s head shake as he struggles to answer. “It’ll pay for itself in a few years, it’d be the perfect long-term solution for high electrical bills!” the man exclaims, stopping himself from finishing the statement without laughing, his tone carrying the weight of one hundred percent seriousness. “So would never turning on a light, but I don’t see you outlawing lamps!” Rachel replies, returning to the initial reasoning, “what if I’m reading a book and it’s hot? Do you want me to just throw the book in the pool and call it a-?” Nearly finishing her thought, Rachel’s sentence is cut off just as the electricity is, the home suddenly darkened as their dinner wraps up. “Please tell me you’re not trying to prove a point with this” Rachel quips, following Jared’s lead as his chair drags across the floor, allowing him to leave the kitchen. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s just a power outage” the man replies, Rachel still able to see his figure as she carefully steps around him, venturing to their home’s rear patio. “Unless we’re on a different power grid from that house, I think this is just us” Rachel replies, the lights of a home nearly half a kilometre away undisturbed, “did we blow a fuse?” With a sigh, Jared sets his attention toward the sink, his toolbox stored within the cupboard just beneath its basin. “I think the house overheard our in-ground pool talk” Jared humours, his tools rustling within the metal container as he lays it atop the countertop, “it must have had some opinions of it’s-” This interruption more violent than the first, Jared’s thought subsides as the frame of their door shatters beneath the weight of a heavy boot, granting the vicious intruder entry to their home. “Jared!” Rachel shouts, watching the outline of his figure scurry through the dark, his toolbox carried in hand. “Through the back!” Jared exclaims, opening the patio door before moving aside to grant Rachel an escape. “Find somewhere they-!” Jared begins to order, stepping through the rear-exit before their home’s decimation catches him within its crossfires. Hit with the equivalent of an explosive, the home’s rear wall collapses, the shockwave of the blast stifling the young man by hurling him through the air with no warning to offer. Watching the man land a great distance across the yard from her, Rachel breaks away from her braced position, eluding most of the blast relatively unharmed. “Jared, get up! Jared! Get up!” Rachel pleads, shoving and slapping Jared’s unconscious body with depleting hopes that a response will arrive. “Get up! Get up!” Rachel shouts, screaming in the man’s face until her mouth is forcefully closed, her face smothered with a black towel and a strong grasp. Feeling her body numb in real time, the instincts Rachel subdued in an effort to spare Jared’s life kick in, her hand reaching for the slim tool she’d felt her knee press into seconds prior. As her struggle fades, Rachel slips the blue-handled weapon into the waistband of her jeans, the starry night sky going dark as her consciousness fades out. Falling limp, Rachel’s body hits the ground, her skin grazed by soft grass and hard dirt. With a sigh of relief, the large man that had pressed his weight into her returns to his feet, the rag he’d suffocated Rachel with falling to the ground, discarded of as its job has finished. == Dream Sequence == \ Realm of Reality /
“Come on your prick, answer the phone” Scarlett grumbles, her phone pressed against her ear for what appears to be more than the first time today. “You’ve reached Cal. Leave me a message” the answering tone replies, a few rings passing just as they had before, prompting Scarlett to roll her eyes and wait for her opportunity to leave a message. “Sheriff, call me back” Scarlett greets, pulling the phone away from her head before shouting into the receiver, “if you don’t, I’ll start to think something bad’s happened to you.” With the tap of her thumb, the call ends, returning Scarlett to the empty, rather dull parlour the couch she sits upon occupies. Mildly agitated, Scarlett’s eyes drift throughout the room, its spacious living room just beginning to find its personality, paintings joining other random decorations in providing the lounge some colour. Though her mind continues to make attempts at drawing her attention toward the terrace, Scarlett’s conscience refuses, battling her mind’s intentions with the power of her heart’s will. Knowing who sits beneath the sun’s light, Scarlett feels her restraint loosen, her head constantly pulled toward the newly-reinstalled sliding glass door. Pressing her teeth together, Scarlett’s final ounce of resistance falters, her face sneering as she peers over her shoulder, soon giving into demands laid forward by her frontal lobe. Slowly parting the doors so as to not make a sound, Scarlett pokes her head through the small opening, her face struck with a staggering heat the moment her air-conditioned body loses its modern comfort. “What’s up, Scar?” Vic inquires, staring into a flipbook of random photographs just as she had before, Scarlett’s attempt at staying quiet now proven unsuccessful. “Uh- have you heard from the sheriff?” Scarlett replies, Vic’s dark hair shining magnificently beneath the burning light as her focus remains stolen by the picture book. “That depends” Vic replies, her head resting slightly further back than before, “which answer will get you to sit down and talk to me?” Her eyes nearly lifting behind her open eyelids, Scarlett shakes her head and begins to pull away, “nevermind, I’ll go check myself.” With more enthusiasm, Vic matches Scarlett’s aggravated tone with one of her own. “Really!? You’d rather go out there- to a town you’re partially responsible for levelling- just to avoid talking to me?” Vic posits, earning a reply that all but confirms her thesis. “I’m pretty sure I could help with the clean up, so- yeah” Scarlett replies, again attempting to slide the door shut before Vic can respond. With the snap of her fingers, Vic appears behind Scarlett’s person, landing with much more grace than she’d known how to before. “We haven’t seen what people are saying about this, Scar. We don’t know what’s going on outside this house!” Vic exclaims, her statement brushed off as Scarlett steps past her, attempting to carry onward. “What’s your fascination with West anyway?” Vic inquires, tying the string on her tunic dress over her bikini now that the hot summer sun has been traded in for the breeze of ice cold air. “I wanted to know how things were going back home” Scarlett replies, reaching for a knapsack pre-filled with items fit for a multi-day trip, “I guess this gives me two reasons to go, doesn’t it?” “They’re two very bad reasons, but sure- do what you want” Vic replies, watching Scarlett prepare to depart before finishing the remark beneath her breath, “you know no better anyway.” Aware of what buttons she’s pushing, Vic turns her back to the impulsive blonde, returning toward the sliding doors with her hand extended. “Alright, what do you mean by that?” Scarlett responds, her fingers snapping as her intended destination abruptly changes, her feet falling firmly upon the ground just before Vic. “You know exactly what I mean, Scar” Vic replies, stepping around the woman as she fulfils her departure, her hand pressing against the glass’ metal framing. Again lifting her hand, Scarlett prepares to blockade Vic’s exit for a second time, only for apprehension to prevent her fingers from pressing together. Without another word, Vic leaves the house without hindrance, returning to her seat on the patio whilst Scarlett watches on, her hand lowering just as her expression does. On the assumption that Vic’s replies were in an effort to provoke her into a counter-argument, Scarlett refuses to offer a counteraction, allowing Vic to move on with the day just as she intends to, her fingers snapping with her initial destination in mind. Hearing the snap, Vic waits a few additional moments before glancing through the window, hesitant to believe Scarlett had actually set off for Praireville. Eyebrows lifting, Vic looks on with surprise, the opposite of what she’d anticipated having occurred. With a smile and a casual nod of the head, Vic returns to the patio, reclaiming the photobook before staring intently at a previously-chosen photo, a few seconds passing before she, too, disappears into thin air, her own journey in mind. = Dream Sequence is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = \ Realm of Reality / “How’s the first bite?” Jared wonders, his hands clasped together atop the kitchen table, his anticipation building as Rachel gently slides a fork past her lips. Her teeth pressing into roasted bits of carrots and mashed potatoes, Rachel’s chewing begins to slow, her face holding steady as best as she can whilst the food remains between her teeth. “It’s-” Rachel parts her lips to say, her teeth still held together, the words she wishes to speak avoiding her as much as finishing the food does. His anxious expression prompting her to down the moderate portion she’d skewered her fork through, Rachel attempts to answer quickly, her efforts to do so thwarted by a coughing fit. “Oh come on!” Jared laughs, his hands parting as he sinks back into his chair, a disappointed look on his face matching the humour in his own failure, “there’s no way I fucked up cooked vegetables!” Leaving her fork in the dinner, Rachel slides the plate across the table’s wooden surface, affording Jared the opportunity to give the concoction a taste for himself. A slight amount of desperation fueling his eagerness to fill the tines with as much as they can hold, Jared scoops the assortment into his mouth and begins chewing, soon burdened by the same troubles as Rachel. “So- how’s the first bite?” Rachel jokes, resting her elbow on the table as its hand supports her head, the grimace on Jared’s face as he swallows nearly bringing a fit of laughter to her. “It’s, uh- wow” Jared struggles, swirling his tongue around the inside of his mouth as she stumbles over his words, eyes widened as he nods. “You know, it wasn’t bad! It was pretty damn-” Jared answers, quickly changing his course without warning, “-shit. It was pretty damn shit.” Discarding of the fork in the meal whilst Rachel laughs, Jared walks the barely-touched plate back toward the kitchen. “We might as well- we should just burn that” the man remarks, pointing to the colourful assortment camouflaging itself as a meal, “though, I think I already did.” Her humour making room for sympathy, Rachel leaves her seat to join the man beside the kitchen sink, her hand rubbing his arm as he slides the creation into the bin. “I think it might be time to retire from the plate” Rachel remarks, watching her laughter from seconds prior find its way to Jared. “I guess I’ll have to go learn how to build nuclear reactors now- cooking just didn’t pan out” Jared replies, watching Rachel’s head dip, her forehead pressing against his chin, “some people are meant for the kitchen, and others are meant for Chernobyl- it’s fine! We’re both probably better off!” Looking into each other’s faces, the pair continue to share their amusement until Rachel switches course, her face leaning into Jared’s as their lips meet. The comedy quickly falling aside, Jared reciprocates the kiss for the few moments prior to its ending, his surprised eyes meeting Rachel’s as they pull apart. “Uh- yeah, I’m just uh-” Jared stammers, setting the plate into the sink’s basin before walking off, an uncertain smile returned to the woman, “I’m just not one for the kitchen.” Their separation awkward, Rachel watches Jared leave with a troubled expression, a deep fear she’d done something wrong left to build within her. “Well, I guess there’s nothing wrong with that” Rachel replies, in convoy of the man at a slower pace, “we only need to be here until Scarlett comes back, so- being bad at making food isn’t the end of the world.” Having begun to climb to the second level of their home, Jared’s ascent pauses, his head bowing as his hands press against the bannister to each of his sides. “What’s wr-?” Rachel wonders aloud, the flight of steps lit poorly by the bulb of a single light at the staircase’s top-most step, “did I do something?” Slowly looking back, Jared looks into Rachel’s eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he turns around, seating himself on one of the many, carpeted steps. “No, you didn’t- you didn’t do anything” Jared replies, sighing as he unleashes the railings from the palms of his hands, his hands coupling together atop his lap. “Was- was it the kiss?” Rachel replies, Jared’s eyes widening as he shakes his head, “maybe I shouldn’t have- I- maybe I read the room wr-” “It wasn’t the kiss” Jared replies, not wishing to draw Rachel into a long-winded, unimportant rescindment. “Well, what’s wrong?” Rachel wonders aloud, her voice softening as worries creep in, the uncertainty of what rests upon Jared’s subconscious now starting to gnaw at her. “It’s just-” Jared begins, letting another sigh free as his shoulders lower, his face wearing the disappointment of a remorseful expression, “Scarlett’s not coming back.” Her lips briefly parting, Rachel’s eyes grow wide, her eyes dropping as the information reaches her ears, worming its way through her head and latching itself upon her mind. “Oh” Rachel responds, her head hanging as her right arm reaches across her body to gently caress her left, eyes returning to Jared as the weight in her voice grows heavy. “Did she tell you why?” she replies, able to see the difficulty in Jared’s face as he troubles himself with answering. “She didn’t know how things were going to end. She wasn’t sure if Suzie was gonna get the best of her, I guess?” Jared responds, his hands thrown out as he shakes his head. “And she didn’t say goodbye?” Rachel queries, obviously trying to hold back a slight hurt this revelation has set upon her. “I think it would have hurt her too much” Jared answers, lowering himself further back, “you didn’t remember all those years with her, so- maybe she was trying to protect herself?” “So she left because I didn’t- she left because I don’t remember us being friends?” Rachel inquires, the answer to the question already given under different phrasing seconds prior. “Alright” Rachel sighs, turning for the kitchen with her arms hanging at her sides, intent on having a moment for herself. | \ Realm of Reality / Briefly losing her balance, Scarlett emerges within West’s office, her hand grasping the edge of the sheriff’s desk before she can topple over. Her wits regained, Scarlett removes her hand from the wooden workspace, her second hand flipping the switch near the front of the room. Covered in dark grey matter, Scarlett’s hand matches the coating that’s formed along the top of the sheriff’s work station, a large gathering of dust having accumulated along an empty, decoration-less table. Her hand wiped along the side of her pant leg, Scarlett takes a quick look around the office, her eyes gazing at walls as empty as the bookshelves that line them, very little personality held in any corner of the room. Void of even a name plate, the desk sits barren, undisturbed by life just as it sits unperturbed by the world. Of the two bulbs in the overhead light, one sits in the dark, its light burned out just as the desk appears to have been, any significant symbols or personal items entirely discarded. Just as the office she now departs does, the remainder of West’s precinct sits equally abandoned, emptied of character and entirely barren. “What the fuck is going on in here?” Scarlett whispers to herself, continuing to stare throughout the building with no one to tell her otherwise, its premises entirely left to decay within the elements’ hostilities. Stepping through the front door, Scarlett’s eyes widen, her face dropping as her boots lay upon fractured concrete, the parking lot just beneath the wheelchair-access slope she stands upon sat beneath muddy stillwater, reflecting the cloudy skies above. Too many questions left without answers, Scarlett snaps her fingers, the sight of familiar grounds conjured up in her head. In seconds, the murky, swamp-like remnants of her hometown’s outer skirts are replaced by the horrifying aftermath of destructive forces colliding. Flying in units just over her head, a fleet of helicopters pass the levelled Praireville city centre, their duties on the ground below fulfilled by fleets of armoured trucks inhabited by members of the SWAT team. Lined with hazards, Praireville’s road sits untravelled, its surface uneven and loitered with cracks and craters, each crevasse partially filled by the dust and debris of collapsed buildings. Quick to snap herself onto the highest level of the nearest mid-rise building, Scarlett peers through shattered windows from the comfort of a long-abandoned private yoga studio, the carnage left to her sights below nothing short of awe-inspiring. The skyline she’d once known now permanently defaced by the removal of high-rise buildings, Scarlett watches helicopters pass with every other minute, cars driving over whatever navigable terrain they can come across in search of answers just as she is. Her face pressed close to the glass, Scarlett’s watches an assortment of various police vehicles stop at once, the units that occupy them now spilling out into the street, their weapons readied as if a target were in their sights. Her hand hoisted into the air once more, Scarlett directs her line of sight toward a building just barely visible on the other side of town, snapping her fingers with a specific window in view. Nearly losing her balance once more, Scarlett comes to in an empty apartment building half the town’s length away, a better vantage point offered as she stares toward the ground. Guns drawn, additional forces arrive to provide the first group with armed backup, many cars now kicking up dirt as their tires screech to a halt across damaged asphalt. A chill running down her back, Scarlett’s eyes wander through the room she now inhabits, curious for answers that refuse to make themselves known. Deeply concerned, Scarlett’s eyes press together, her hands rubbing the sides of her head as she considers her next move. As the sounds of vehicular engines draw nearer, Scarlett’s brain offers a suggestion, one that only prevails through the clutter of inquiries available once the tires just below her building’s complex drag along unsteady ground. Her eyes kept closed, Scarlett lifts her hand and snaps herself away from imminent danger, her heart taking her away from the scene of misery. | \ Paradox / Her tunic dress having untied, Vic braces her barely-clothed body against the winter chill running through the plains of rural Minnesota. Her hair blown by steady, calm winds, Vic’s eyes take to a cosy home near the end of the cul-de-sac she finds herself in, a smile put on her face briefly until another chilly breeze wipes it away. Her soft, see-through dress and orange bikini a very poor choice as far as attire is concerned, Vic approaches the home, its exterior lit up with festive, colourful lights, marking the end of a year with grace and wonder. Snapping her fingers, Vic escapes the cold to find herself stood atop the freshly-vacuumed carpet of a warm, cheer-filled home. A family’s seasonal gathering taking part a few rooms over, Vic welcomes herself to a look around the holiday-inspired living room, its walls lined with decorations and chimney hosting a roaring fire. Atop the mantle, framed photographs of a happy family, the likes of which comprised of parents, grandparents and offspring, sit proudly, overlooking the room in which the various branches of the family tree come together as one. In the room’s corner, a tree stretches close toward the ceiling, reaching as high as it can manage, yet failing to touch the popcorn pattern just overhead. Lined with ornaments, smaller family pictures, tinsel and bright lighting, the tree sits atop a tree skirt, its lowest branches hovering over wrapped presents and celebratory goods. “I don’t know if this is on-brand for her, or the furthest thing from normal” Vic mutters beneath her breath, staring into portrait after portrait as a tiny, young voice calls out to her. “For who?” the little girl inquires, a question spoken just loud enough to capture Vic’s attention, the woman quickly turning around with her eyes set toward the ground. “Do I know you?” the little blonde girl wonders aloud, inspecting Vic for a moment before the obvious questions dawns upon her, “and why are you wearing a swimsuit?” Her head resting to one side, Vic lowers herself to a knee, her left leg bent as she nods. “That’s a good question that I don’t have an answer for” Vic replies, not wanting to scare the girl away by admitting how surprised she is. “Can you see me?” Vic inquires, waiting a moment for the girl to answer, her tiny head only nodding in response. “Do you know who I am?” Vic adds, slowly trying to gauge how far the interaction can be taken. “Are you my cousin?” the little girl replies, earning herself a smile from Vic as she continues to answer, “my mom said I have cousins from different sides of the family, but I thought they were all supposed to be my age.” “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not your cousin, huh?” Vic responds, her confusion settling in favour of the wholesome, friendly attitude she allows to take over, “I’ll take it your name is Scarlett.” Her head nodding emphatically, young Scarlett stands before Vic with her hands coupled, two teeth, one from the top row and the second from the bottom, waiting for their successors to grow in. “There’s a boy in my class- Eli- he keeps making fun of me” Scarlett responds, allowing Vic to ask her a follow-up question as she lowers herself further, crossing her legs as she takes up a seat in the middle of the floor. “How does he make fun of you?” Vic replies, placing the palms of her hands against her bent knees whilst Scarlett replies, a smile brought upon her face by the sincere innocence her friend’s younger self presents. “He calls me ‘Scary Mary’ ‘cause my name starts with ‘Scar’” Scarlett replies, her answer nearly drawing a laugh from her accidental pal, “I told mom and dad I want to change my name to ‘Anna’, but they won’t let me.” “Why ‘Anna’?” Vic ponders aloud, her response coming quickly and with vehement desire. “Because it starts with a ‘a!” Scarlett proclaims, giggling as she leaps with her hands in the air, “I can be at the front of all the lines at recess!” “Scarlett, honey! Dinner’s ready!” a slightly-familiar voice calls out, the conversation she’d had with Vic almost instantly falling out of favour. “Come on! Dinner’s ready!” Scarlett shouts, waving her hand toward the kitchen as she breaks away, hurrying for the dinner table with expectations of Vic joining. “I’ll be there in a second!” Vic calls back, still sat in the centre of the floor with little intentions of taking the chance on anyone else noticing her presence. Thinking quietly to herself, Vic lifts her hand into the air, struggling to understand why Scarlett’s declaration sounds so vaguely familiar, departing for her modern time having been given a new query to inspect. | \ Realm of Reality / Though spring sits just around the corner, Minnesota leaves plenty of warmth to be desired, Scarlett’s comfortability with the Maldives weather leaving her troubled by what she perceives to be inclement temperature. “Ma!? Pa!?” Scarlett exclaims, dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a white tank top, a black zip-up jacket worn over her bare shoulders as she slams her closed fist against the quiet house’s front door. The cul-de-sac behind her as absent of passersby as usual, Scarlett peers through the awning windows built into the side of her grandparents home before snapping her fingers. The room she enters filled with a quiet, disturbed silence, Scarlett takes a look around the parlour to find little of note, no furniture left in any odd position, no signs of reason for worry. “Ma!? Pa!?” Scarlett exclaims, her hands coupled by each side of her mouth as her shout travels throughout the home. Still left with no answer, Scarlett helps herself to a look around, her eyes taking to an open space in the living room floor for no reason. Equally as lifeless, the kitchen sits empty of most decor, a microwave oven sat beside a toaster whilst an unplugged television set sits in the counter’s end. “Mom!?” Scarlett exclaims, her hands again coupled beside her mouth to the same response, an empty, eerie silence returned to her, still little reason offered to believe anything different would. “It’s Scarlett!” Scarlett exclaims again, waiting patiently for an answer she knows will not arrive, though she holds out the aimless hope that it will, “are you here!?” The kitchen’s unappealing emptiness striking her as odd, Scarlett’s sights lay on anything of importance, the slightest display of character immediately drawing her attention. Within seconds, the purposeless roam her eyes move with settle upon the refrigerator, the personality-drained cookery retaining the clippings and photographs her grandparents had always taken a liking to. “To girls killed in Prair-” Scarlett begins to read aloud, stopping herself short of the conclusion before turning her focus to the next article. “Speculation grows over involvement of girls in-” Scarlett’s eyes again take to, spending little time upon the second set of bold, black-lettered words before advancing to the next. “Mother of disgraced Praireville teen-” Scarlett starts skimming, again stopping herself short, but not out of self-avoidance, but rather fear. Her voice having fully vanished, Scarlett shakes her head as her eyes widen, the clipping removed from the fridge as she reads further, traversing the paragraphs until reaching the end. In a hurry, Scarlett lets the article fall to the kitchen’s tiled floor as her fingers snap, a poor recollection of her destination prompting her to land within it at a random point. Emerging halfway up a hill, Scarlett tumbles backward, falling to the grassy incline’s lowest point before returning herself to a standing position, a frantic search taking her past stones chiselled with brilliant artwork and engraved with loving words. As minutes pass, the sky begins to grow dark, the onset of evening having turned into the beginning of night, prompting Scarlett to summon her service weapon for the smallest amount of light manageable. “Where- where- where!?” Scarlett grunts, passing one lot after the next before finally, after nearly half an hour of searching, her sights set on the display she’d come for. “Oh- no, no!” Scarlett moans, stepping closer to the gravestone the vibrant blue glow of her guiding light had taken toward before dropping to her knees, her mothers name, birth date and death date listed beneath a family portrait.” “Hey!” a distant voice exclaims, his flashlight paling in comparison to the luminosity of Scarlett’s, “you’re not supposed to be here!” Disregarding the man’s warning, Scarlett stares into her family’s headstone, her name centred between her father’s and mother’s own, each date appearing definitive. “Hey, kid!” the voice shouts once more, approaching Scarlett with an angry tone, taking her to be little more than a trespasser intent on damaging property. “Leave me alone!” Scarlett shouts back, taking the man’s advancement to be an indicator of his unwillingness to leave her in peace. “Visiting hours are over, you need to leave or I’ll call the police!” the man replies, resistant to allow the woman the privacy she’d requested. “I told you to leave me alone, please don’t make me hurt you!” Scarlett shouts back, the sorrow in her face replacing itself with anger, the blue weapon at her side beginning to pulsate. “Kid, you need to go!” the security officer responds, taken aback by the woman’s declaration for a moment before stepping forward, his hand taking Scarlett by the shoulder forcefully. With ease, the girl springs off her knees and slaps the man’s hand away, her weapon aimed between his eyes. His life threatened, the guard’s instincts take over where his better judgement would otherwise serve, his hand moving to the taser saddled on his side. Operating off her anger, Scarlett’s finger pulls at her weapon’s trigger, firing a pellet of electricity through the guard’s eyes before his defence can be detached from the holster he carries it in. Cleanly exiting through the back of the man’s head, the charge burns a hole through the man’s skull, the small wound it leaves behind allowing smoke to billow out from behind his cranium. Within seconds, the guard falls back, his body collapsing to the ground as lifeless as those in the wooden boxes beneath him, Scarlett’s hand having sentenced him to a similar fate. Seething, Scarlett fights for breaths as her actions begin to sink in, the service weapon relinquished to the realm beyond as she stares at the product of her work. Surveying the area, Scarlett stumbles back, losing her balance until she falls into her family’s headstone, realisation beginning to set in over what she’d just done. Her mouth going dry, Scarlett rubs her fingers together frantically, trying to snap herself away from the scene of the crime without a destination in mind. Aware of how overcome with emotions she now suffers with, Scarlett takes a deep breath and pictures her villa, the snap of her finger returning her to sanctuary. == Dream Sequence == \ Realm of Reality /
Business elsewhere in the home settled for the moment, Scarlett departs the villa’s dark, intimate back rooms in favour of the spacious, increasingly-decorated parlour. Her teeth pressing into the skin of a fresh apple, Scarlett steps into the open living room, her ears first capturing the calm sounds of warm, Arabian waters rushing past the supports of the home. “Hey” a friendly voice calls out from the kitchen, its presence drawing Scarlett’s startled eyes toward it. With a steel wool pad, Vic runs a sleek, white plate under scalding water, scrubbing its stains and crusted remnants with a steady hand. “H- hey” Scarlett murmurs, neither young woman keen on saying much more than what they’ve offered, the silence that follows their brief interaction just as awkward as the aimless stare they hold upon each other. “I’ll- I’ll leave you to-” Scarlett soon remarks, beginning to turn back toward the way she’d arrived before Vic cuts her off. “No, it’s fine!” Vic exclaims, setting the plate and pad into the near-empty sink before stopping the water, her hands reaching for the towel nearest to her, “I think we should probably talk.” Her eyes squinting, Scarlett begins to shrug her head from one side to the other, continuing to slowly retreat toward the home’s cosy depths. “Don’t you think it’d be better if we didn’t?” Scarlett responds, her inquiry prompting Vic to lower her chin, leaving the damp towel atop the marble countertop. “I don’t think going radio-silent on each other is gonna help anyone” Vic replies, the wedge driven between them visible in the separation of their persons. “Maybe not, but what if the alternative is the thing that sets us on- that?” Scarlett queries, pausing her retreat as Vic leans against the half-wall between the kitchen and adjacent parlour, “the crash course Lincoln told you about?” Lowering her chin for a second time, Vic subtly shakes her head, quietly making sure her response is given sound reasoning. “I could ask the same thing about shutting each other out” Vic replies, her head tilting to one side as her shoulder shrugs, “besides, weren’t you the one that said we were wasting time trying to outsmart the realm?” With a brief frown, Scarlett rolls her eyes, her hands coupling together behind her lower back as she leans against the wall, still the room’s length away from Vic. “Yeah, but that was before I knew the realm was pitting us against each other” Scarlett clarifies, her answer not doing much to change Vic’s approach. “The destination doesn’t make the truth of what leads to it any less true” Vic quickly rebukes, her reply bringing a frown over Scarlett’s face, “we’re not going to stop the realm from accomplishing it’s- whatever it wants.” “That doesn’t mean we need to speed up the process” Scarlett retorts, the frowning expression now worn by Vic, “and we can’t risk turning on each other with Suzie still in the picture!” Her arms crossing, Vic stares at Scarlett with a disgruntled look, a question already prepared to leave her lips. “How do you expect us to take care of that problem if we’re not even on speaking terms?” Vic wonders aloud, a question Scarlett admittedly has little answer to. “I don’t know!” Scarlett snaps back just as quickly as Vic had asked the question, “but I nearly took her out myself, didn’t I? If Lincoln’s the only reason I couldn’t finish the job- there’s nothing stopping me now!” Annoyed, Vic shakes her head and rounds the corner she’d turned minutes prior, her sights returning to the stack of unwashed dishes that remain. “Why the hell do you have to be so damn fucking tempermental!?” Vic exclaims, the question raised more as a declaration of her frustration than with the intent of obtaining an answer to. “Oh, look at it already starting!” Scarlett shouts, her arms thrown out by her sides as she approaches, matching Vic’s raised tone, “go ahead- repeat the other horseshit Lincoln spewed off! Call me quick-tempered, and impulsive- Call me everything short of corrupted, why don’t you!?” “Well, apparently- up until about a week ago- you were!” Vic shouts, scrubbing her dish with such force as she responds that her hand pushes through its centre, splitting its ceramic figure in half. “Fuck!” Vic shouts, chucking the wool pad into the sink’s cast iron basin as she shakes her right hand, three of her four knuckles bloodied by the shards that now sit in the sinks drain. Stepping around the counter, Vic begins to walk the direction Scarlett had entered through, a passing glance taken at the blonde as she wraps the end of her shirt around the cut. With a scowl, Scarlett looks the woman in the eyes as she steps past her, setting off for the nearest bathroom whilst Scarlett watches, her own anger kept hidden well below her restricted demeanour. = Dream Sequence is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = \ Realm of Reality / Whilst Scarlett follows closely behind him, Jared tags after Rachel, a pair of suitcases carried in the hands of all three travellers. “So, you guys like it?” Scarlett queries, the last to step through the entrance of a quaint home situated in an open plot of land on the outskirts of an attractive city. “It’s so pretty!” Rachel speaks in a soft, whisper-like tone, the lounge she first peers into providing her with a welcoming aura. “Where is this again?” Jared inquires, pausing in the archway between the living room and spacious kitchen, able to peer into a hanging garden just beyond the cookhouse’s exit. “Ciudad Del Este. Paraguay” Scarlett replies, flipping a switch from across the room to bathe the family space with light, “as far as places Suzie shouldn’t be able to find you in go- this seems preferable.” Still somewhat shaken from the disbelief that the homely space they enter, adorned with four levels, multiple bathrooms and bedrooms, and a large, open space beyond their backdoors, Jared and Rachel gaze in wonder silently, all under Scarlett’s watchful eye. “¿Sabes ese español que estabas estudiando por diversión? ¿Cómo está?” Scarlett calls out, no longer needing to specify who her inquiries are directed toward now that Rachel wanders into the next room over. “Está bien. Está un poco oxidado” the man replies, watching Scarlett’s head bob from one side to the next. “It’s passable. You’ll get better the longer you’re here” Scarlett replies, a response made in good faith, yet met with immediate curiosity. “Wh-? How long should we plan on being here?” Jared wonders back, the woman’s face falling slightly as she shrugs, her bottom lip pressed between her teeth as she forms an answer. “We don’t know how long Suzie’s gonna be an issue yet. It could be days, or maybe weeks-” Scarlett responds, the open-ended conclusion to the reply leaving room for an unspoken alternative, “-maybe longer.” Though not outright opposed to the idea of settling in for a fair amount of time, Jared’s optimistic expression begins to falter, slowly becoming one of worry. “You don’t have to- but you could stay here forever if you really wanted to” Scarlett adds, a gesture Jared continues to take bother over. “Vic paid for the land, got you work permits and permanent residency under different names. You’ve got enough money in accounts to cover yourselves for a few years!” Scarlett continues, the man’s expression not growing any more optimistic, “you’re set for however long you’re here.” His head bowing, Jared begins to nod to himself, not as a result of the woman’s remarks, but of the thoughts he fills his head with quietly. “What’re you thinking?” Scarlett soon inquires, the pair making their way further into the parlour, occupying the comfortable sofa sat in the room’s centre. “It’s just a lot to process” Jared replies, his eyes still held on the patterned carpet beneath his dirt-covered shoes, “don’t get me wrong, I know why we have to- but it’s just- it’s just nerves.” Able to understand the concern that fills Jared’s mind, Scarlett swipes a loose strand of hair over her ears, her hands wrapping around Jared’s own. “You guys are going to be fine” Scarlett responds, pulling one of her hands away to guide Jared’s face toward her own, their eyes meeting. “Suzie shouldn’t be able to find you here. You won’t need to live with the fear that you might get dragged into all of this again” Scarlett explains, a tone of genuine sympathy in her voice. “You’ve got a fresh start to build a new life in. You’ve got everything you could ever need!” Scarlett continues, a sudden display of retraction offered in Jared’s posture. His shoulders stiffening, Jared pulls his hands away from Scarlett’s, his face pulling away from her own as he leaves the couch, stepping further into the living space. “What’s wrong?” Scarlett ponders, unsure of the reason behind his reaction. “You keep talking like there’s something you’re hiding” Jared responds, his hand pressing against the sides of his head as he turns back. “Why do you say-?” Scarlett begins to inquire, incapable of finishing her question before Jared provides her with an answer, already knowing where the qualm was to lead. “Because- the way you’re talking- it makes it seem like we’re not talking a few weeks” Jared replies, his suspicions increasingly justified as Scarlett’s face lowers. “How long do you actually think it’ll take before you come get us?” Jared inquires, Scarlett’s eyes slowly lifting toward him, too ashamed to answer his question without biting her tongue. Letting out a sigh, Scarlett drops her head once more, making peace with the answer she’s left to give. “I’m not” Scarlett replies, waiting another few moments before returning her eyes toward Jared’s, who stares at her in surprise. “You- wha-?” Jared stammers, Scarlett’s silence allowing him a chance to resort his thoughts, “wow. Y’know, I thought you were gonna say ‘a year’, maybe? Or- or two?” Though she’s begun the process of making sense from the reply, Scarlett recognises that Jared’s yet to begin, the realisation settling over him gradually. “It’s not like I want to abandon you guys, but I-” Scarlett explains, her clarification the only thing Jared’s mind can comprehend, his full attention given to it, “-I don’t think I have the choice.” His head pulling back, Jared watches Scarlett’s head roll, her legs increasingly restless until she pulls away from her seat, forced to take a few laps around the living quarters. “What do you mean by that?” Jared responds, picking up on the struggle of her own that Scarlett’s mind wraps around the reality of, quick to call it into question. “I don’t know!” Scarlett shouts, losing her composure for a moment before the palms of her hands press against her face. Her skin pulled by the grip of her fingers, Scarlett’s hands drag themselves down the length of her face, wiping the stress in her facial muscles before collecting herself. Repeating the answer in her head, Scarlett allows the words to get comfortable inside of her mind, their presence having yet to elicit anything more than a persistent mental racket. “I think the realm is going to do something to Vic and I” Scarlett responds, her fingers sliding into the waistband of her jeans as her hands rest by her hips, “-something that’ll pit us against each other.” His eyes narrowing, Jared remains standing in complete silence for a moment, pre-answering questions that randomly pop into his head. “I get that this place does weird shit, but it doesn’t change who you are, does it?” Jared inquires, rounding the couch and coffee table to get closer to the distressed woman. “I don’t know, maybe?” Scarlett replies, as hard-pressed for answers as the man beside her is, “something tore Suzie and Lincoln apart, and we both know how that ended.” Guided by the optimist within him, Jared opts to seek greener pastures, directing his attention to a more hopeful outlook. “Maybe things are supposed to end differently for you two” Jared responds, his hand gently caressing the woman’s back, “I mean, you defied that corruption stuff! Clearly not everything is the same!” Though hesitant to fall into the trap of positivity, Scarlett finds herself stricken by the suggestion, wanting to accept Jared’s proposition as true. “You could be right, but that leaves me with the same question I’ve been asking for months!” Scarlett replies, forced to laugh off the frustration that simmers within her to prevent herself from growling, “if Vic and I doing this fight to the death thing isn’t how everything ends- what is?” His head shaking, Jared stares off into the distance, his mind reaching out for the first answer that makes enough sense to not sound ludicrous. “You live long and happy lives, die as old women, and retire to office building-world. How about that?” Jared responds, Scarlett’s eyes rolling as she looks to him, silently looking away as the man pulls her in for a hug. “There’s still a chance all of this works out better than your head makes it seem” Jared replies, gently squeezing her shoulder as the future that lays ahead catches up with his mind. “I don’t really know if I can believe this” Jared mutters beneath his breath, Scarlett’s face looking into his, their eyes connecting, “this might be the last time I ever see you.” With a smile, Scarlett rests her hand on Jared’s chest, her eyes trailing toward the base of his neck. “You thought that before, didn’t you?” Scarlett wonders aloud, her poor ability to say ‘goodbye’ making it impossible not to answer with humorous intent, “you’ve had practice.” A laugh given through an exhale, Jared nods to himself, able to smile, but not able to truly appreciate the joke. “I’m really gonna miss you” Jared responds, his true sadness over the woman’s departure forcing him to choke up before his declaration can be finished. Once filled with a wholesome joy, Scarlett’s eyes fill with a reciprocated sorrow. Her hand gently patting the man’s chest, Scarlett’s eyes let a few tears fall, overcome with a dejection that keeps her from cleanly responding. “I’m gonna miss you too” Scarlett replies, taking in a few breaths through her nose as she looks into Jared’s eyes, her arms wrapping around his neck as she whimpers, the pair sharing a tight embrace as they strive to combat their quickly unravelling demeanours. After a few moments, the pair reluctantly pull apart, Scarlett’s lips pecking Jared’s cheek as their bodies detach. “Are you gonna say goodbye to Rachel?” Jared asks, wiping his face of the waterworks that trickle down his chin, forced to clear his throat. “Uh- no, I don’t think- I don’t think I could handle that one” Scarlett replies, her hands more carefully clearing her face of tears, “I think my heart would just break, y’know?” Begrudgingly accepting her wishes, Jared nods, still trying to clear his throat as Scarlett approaches, resting her hands on each side of his face. “Take care of her, okay?” Scarlett asks, unable to raise her request without more tears beginning to run, “and be good to her, will you?” Flashing a smile, Jared nods, watching Scarlett pull away and walk toward the direction she’d entered, turning around to look Jared in the eyes as her hand lifts into the air. “Bye Jared” Scarlett whispers, her lip quivering as the man stands before her, hands hanging aimlessly by his sides. “Goodb-” Jared replies, again forced to clear his throat as the woman’s fingers press together, speaking through the flurry of sadness he knows himself incapable of putting down, “goodbye, Scarlett.” Lips pressed together, Scarlett snaps her fingers before she can convince herself not to, vanishing into air’s thin dimensions, leaving her friends with a life she hopes they can enjoy living. | \ Realm of Reality / Walking the streets of Malé in a flannel shirt, a pair of high-rise jeans and white running shoes, Vic traverses the city’s colourful town, her hands tucked into her pockets as she travels without a destination. Surrounded by people for the very first time, Vic dawns her sunglasses and bows her head, a grey flat cap already adorning her head. The ends of her shirt flailing in the gentle breeze, Vic chooses a corner store at random and enters it, drawn in by the allure of a cheap bottle of cola advertised on its signage. Immediately hit with the rush of an air conditioner set to the lowest possible temperature, Vic steps further into the store, her eyes taking to the assortment of standing refrigerators at the mart’s end. With ease, Vic retrieves a handful of glass bottles from the unit, shovelling one bottle after another into a leather bag until the shelf they’d once occupied sits empty. Licking her lips, Vic lowers her glasses to peer around the mart’s ceiling, the lack of security cameras providing her with a strange desire to defy the rules laid out by the society she inhabits. Her hand lifting into the air, Vic presses her fingers together before second thoughts arrive, the yearning quickly giving into the might her better judgement provides. Shaking her head as if to rid herself of something that had tried to exhort power over her, Vic returns her glasses to their seat upon the bridge of her nose and approaches the counter. Opening the flap on her bag, Vic presents the cashier with the stockpile of cola bottles she’d set within her bag. “I’ll save you the count and tell you there are twenty in here” Vic remarks, a set of folded notes slipping from her pocket and into her fingers, “and for your trust, here’s a thousand bucks.” His eyes widened, the clerk accepts the bribe with no hesitation, silently waving the woman toward the store’s exit. Returning to the door, Vic’s departure suddenly halts, her eyes captured by a glossy photo stuffed into the metal frame of a lottery ticket dispenser. “Is this New York?” Vic calls back to the clerk, again lowering the glasses from her eyes, able to spot the Empire State Building in the photo’s background. “Those are my vacation photos of family” the cashier replies, slightly subconscious over his grasp on the English language, “we went to states three years ago.” Nodding her head, Vic brings on a headache as she stares with more intensity, trying to recognise different buildings that surround the one of notability. “I remember doing a project on New York when I was younger” Vic replies, the headache only worsening the more she speaks, “my mom and I were up the entire night trying to put together a poster board. Yeah- I’d always wanted to go some day.” “The city was very beau-” the clerk begins to reply, a sudden yelp of pain interrupting him as it leaves Vic’s lips, the ground beneath the woman beginning to shake as balance evades her. “Are you okay?” the clerk shouts, confused to Vic’s reaction as her legs grow more unstable. The power of speech avoiding her, Vic stammers forward, her hands pressing against the display case as her eyes refuse to leave the photograph, seemingly glued to its glossy finish. “Miss!? Miss!?” The clerk continues to plead, desperately waiting for an answer Vic just can’t offer, the bright colours his store is decorated with turning to a faint shade of grey in Vic’s eyes, the vibrancy of the world she’s surrounded by rapidly deteriorating. “Do I call doctor for you, miss!? Miss!?” the clerk continues, able to watch Vic’s eyes glaze over as the woman loses consciousness, taking the display case with her as she collapses backward. Frantically racing around his counter, the clerk races to the woman’s aid, his hand instinctively ripping a medical kit from the wall as he hurries to her side, left visibly stunned at the sight he discovers. The glass of the lottery case shattered along the ground, only a leather bag with broken cola bottles remains of the woman’s presence, her unconscious body no longer to be found. His mouth agape, the clerk stares at the ground, the mess that waits for him to clean it left behind by the culprit. Shielding her face, Vic’s colourless haze subsides, replaced with the clear blue skies of a busy, bustling metropolitan. Cars passing in opposite directions by each of her sides, Vic stares at the numerous buildings that thrust into the heavens, the plethora of windows reflecting the bright sunset of a day just on the verge of ending. Confused, Vic takes a spin in each direction, nearly rotating three hundred and sixty degrees perfectly before her eyes take toward the distance. The sun behind her, Vic travels down the congested street, the sight of taxicabs alone giving her the impression that a strange phenomena has occurred. “Un-fucking-real” Vic whispers to herself, finally reaching the road’s end as it meets the East River, the distant shot of the Empire State Building capturing her attention and awe. “Smile kids!” a familiar voice remarks, immediately stealing Vic’s eyes from the tower, chummy sights yet to cease. Just as the photo had projected, Vic watches the camera flash for the Maldives’ clerk’s family photo, aligned with the Empire State Building just as they were in the picture. Squinting, Vic takes another spin, glancing at the passersby as they move on with their day, completely disregarding her presence. “Hello!?” Vic exclaims, drawing out the ‘o’ sound with her hands cupped around her mouth, projecting her voice forward with no one to hear it. Individually, each civilian passes by her with little contrary effort, her presence non-existent as far as they’re concerned. “Stop touching! I told you stop touching!” the clerk exclaims, swatting his son’s hand away from a small newspaper stand in a rage, his wife’s hand pressing against his arm in an effort to calm him. “Get off!” the clerk angrily exclaims, throwing his wife’s hand away from his body before slapping his oldest son across the face, the child’s stoic reaction leaving Vic with the suspicion he’d grown a tolerance to it. “You live in a strange world” a soft voice speaks, a whisper flowing through the air and latching onto Vic’s ear, no soul capable of creating such a sound anywhere within Vic’s vicinity. “It is a neccessary world- that is certain” the abnormal voice continues, the words it speaks now revolving around her head, almost mesmerising her in a strange way, “that necessity, however, does not make it any less strange.” “Are you speaking to me?” Vic wonders aloud, still looking in each direction for the voice’s source, as of yet unable to uncover it. “Who else would I be speaking to?” the voice inquires, the faint tone never once lifting higher than a whisper, “these people live in a time that has passed. They cannot respond to forces that have yet to exist.” “Is that what you are?” Vic quickly wonders aloud, patiently spinning in circles at a slow pace, waiting for the force that speaks to reveal itself. “I’m not sure” the voice replies, finally giving itself a physical form, Mother presenting herself to Vic just as she had before, her face empty apart from a mouth, her hands folded together, the tip of her head barely reaching the bottom of Vic’s chin. “Well, you seem to be sure about a lot of other things” Vic replies, Mother’s patience prevailing as she waits for her turn to speak, “what’re you coming down to tell me?” Bowing her head, Mother remains stood in absolute silence, only breaking her rigid posture upon stepping away from her post, slowly approaching the woman’s side. “The roles have never reversed, Victoria” Mother replies, parting her hands to lay one upon Vic’s shoulder, “all they have ever done is reconfigure themselves.” “Am I supposed to ask you what that means?” Vic quickly replies, gently pulling her shoulder away from Mother’s grasp, her confrontational demeanour not difficult to notice. “What the fuck are you? Are you a ghost? Are you supposed to be some really fucked up delusion, huh?” Vic continues to ask, Mother’s patience again proving too strong for Vic to dismantle, “what purpose are you supposed to be serving? What the fuck am I supposed to take from this?” With a pause, Mother lets Vic expend her breath before replying, her voice frail like an old woman’s would be. “Which of the questions would you like me to answer?” Mother queries, the skin where her eyes and nose would be appearing smooth, no different from that of a young adults, though the flesh around her mouth appears wrinkled, providing the same display as her voice. “I want you to tell me how to stop this” Vic replies, staring at where the woman’s eyes would otherwise be as she speaks with confidence, “I want you to tell me how this is supposed to end.” Her lips pressing together, Mother’s head hangs, her hands parting for a second time before hovering over Vic’s, voluntarily restoring the woman’s powers before lifting her face, only answering Vic’s question when the woman’s hands glow a vibrant blue. “Whether you care to admit it or not is a journey for which you, and you alone, must take” Mother replies, lifting her hand into the air before pressing her fingers together, snapping with a single set of departing words, “-deep down, you already know that answer.” Leaving Vic no room to respond, Mother frees the woman from her paradox, the sky around New York turning grey just as its photographic counterpart had. Coming to, Vic finds herself stood near the standing refrigerators at the market’s rear, a man’s frantic babbling easy to hear from the store’s front. Taking a moment to run her hand over the smooth, hairless skin on her arms, Vic takes full attention of the remarks exclaimed across the mart from herself, eyes narrowing as her sights are set forward. Hair bouncing off her shoulders, Vic steps through aisles stacked with random items, most of whom don’t belong together, let alone within the same few metres as each other. Heart set on winning different battles, Vic steps over the wreckage she’d left behind and approaches the unassuming clerk, his back turned to the rest of his store as he phones emergency services. Snatching the phone from his hand, Vic wraps her hand around the store owner’s neck and lifts him off the ground, his back pressed against the wall as she hangs the phone back upon its receiver. “If I ever hear about you beating your family again, I’ll come back and make an example out of you” Vic warns, the man’s eyes staring into her own with a horrifying fear, “do you understand me?” Quickly losing oxygen, the man wraps his hands around Vic’s wrist and nods, his feet returned to the ground upon his agreement as Vic relinquishes him from her grasp. Peering into her bag, Vic discovers most of the bottles to be intact as the leather satchel is hoisted over her shoulders. “I’m taking these too” Vic remarks, snatching a handful of small chip bags before stuffing them, too, into her rucksack, “enjoy the cash, creep.” Snapping her fingers, Vic vanishes before the clerk’s eyes with little concern, his palms pressing against the floor as he pushes himself backward, gasping for air in utter shock. == Dream Sequence == Season 3 Premiere
\ Realm of Reality / The sole of his foot slamming against the brake pedal, West’s cruiser drags across debris-covered pavement as it rolls to a stop, faced with a scene of utter devastation. “Hey, what the hell happened!?” West exclaims, calling out to a group of police officers as they near, his question ignored as they race past him without a second thought. His mouth agape and eyes widened in shock, West falls against his vehicle whilst his arm sits atop its roof, unable to stand properly. Stripped bare of any grass, asphalt or concrete foundations, the three-kilometre strip of land sits as nothing more than a massive, circular patch of mud. Unable to close his mouth, West presses his left hand against his lips, his mind still struggling to process the tragedy that sits before him. “How many people are dead!?” West exclaims, calling out to another flock of officers, each passing him by just as the last assortment had, the back-most officer’s arm taken into West’s grasp. “Hey, hey! How many are dead!?” West asks again, the subordinate quickly jerking his arm back, taking both offence and a dislike for West’s interference. “I don’t know!” the officer exclaims, stepping away to rejoin his unit, “do you see anything that survived this!?” As the question prompts West to wonder quietly, a harrowing answer soon prevails over the rest, one that ties West’s stomach into knots that would make the most experienced survivalists jealous. Using the ill sensation, West contorts his sickness into a blistering, unadulterated anger, propelling himself into action with it as his motivation. Taking a few steps towards the blast’s epicentre, a sudden roar in the distance emerges, unable to finish before frantic calls are howled through the radios of each stationary police cruiser. “We’re under attack!” an officer in training exclaims, the attention of each deputy on the scene drawn in his direction. “There’s a bombing downtown! A building just came down!” the officer reiterates, inciting a flurry of chatter amongst the different cop-filled bundles. Seething, West connects the dots left for him to trace, their path leading him directly to the face he’d held responsible for the death of his closest confidant. His right eye twitching, West turns away from the scene and returns to his vehicle, turning the key in his ignition as the door slams shut behind him. His rear wheels kicking up wet dirt, West pulls away from the ruination and returns to the road he’d arrived upon, his car directed toward the nearest exit leading to Praireville’s heart. = Dream Sequence is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = \ Realm of Reality / His presence alone sending Praireville into a terror, Lincoln sets his aggressions upon the population. Herding together like sheep, civilians race to the nearest safety, following the closest wanderer through the well-lit, small-town streets with dreams of uncovering sanctuary. The fingers on his right hand sprawling outward, Lincoln forces his palm toward the ground, crushing clumps of innocent bystanders into piles of eviscerated bone and gore. His face pale and drained of emotion other than exhaustion, fury and suffering, Lincoln plays with the mortal souls beneath his levitating body, picking them out from the crowd like trinkets from a jewellery box. With the motion of his finger, legs are swept from beneath Lincoln’s unsuspecting victims, their bodies given nothing to break their fall as they collide with the pavement. Whilst a few lucky souls overcome their impacts, most find themselves unlucky, gorgonized just long enough for Lincoln to commence the next phase of his attack. Having seemingly vanished behind the physical dominance of yet another high-rise office complex, Lincoln’s presence reveals itself yet again, this time peeking out from the wounded population’s tragically flawed assumption of momentary optimism. With a force greater than that of most Californian earthquakes, Praireville’s road begins to crack and splinter, a wave of pedestrians forced to the ground as yet another building begins to sway. Encouraged by his wrath, Lincoln rips the foundation of the office complex he’d hidden his presence behind from the ground it was embedded into, gradually pushing it forward as if it were the domino at the start of a long line. Windows shattering from the movement alone, Lincoln topples the building, watching its walls flatten as warped metal juts through debris, sentencing those he’d swept the feet of to a permanent slumber beneath. A row of buildings and street lights immediately going dark as the complex snaps overhead electrical wires, Praireville becomes consumed in a blanket of darkness, lorded over by a malefactor that gratifies himself in unleashing an implausible horror the world has yet to witness. Floating through the air off-balanced and glassy-eyed, Lincoln revels in the carnage he’s waged, a small town left in ruins at his hands. Fearing the awful fate that could be in store for themselves, onlookers hurdle themselves over the edges of overpasses and from sidewalk-adjacent terraces, landing on other, equally desperate people just begging for a second lease on life. A malicious smile occupying his face, Lincoln turns his sights toward the still-lit portions of walkway ahead, his intentions as sour as those he’d arrived with. In a change of fate, a sudden burst of light blinds Lincoln’s villainous sights, his face spotlighted by an approaching police helicopter. Unaware of what’s within its best interests, the helicopter closes the distance between itself and the mid-flight, one-man guerrilla. Though badly injured, Lincoln retains the insight to know what the unfolding situation says in quiet, unspoken terms, the first to strike likely to be the one allowed to leave with their life. Summoning his dagger from the realm beyond, Lincoln repeats the gesture he’d collapsed buildings and severed roadways with, the dagger slicing across his body from the left and toward the aircraft ahead. Its windows shattered, the helicopter is sliced halfway through its large, metal frame in a diagonal line, pulling apart before it even has the chance to lose its elevation. Like a cap gently removed from the container it fits to, the helicopter gracefully snaps apart, each piece descending from the heavens and into the town below, littering the street with even more litter and casualties. The sky left cold, dark and empty, only Lincoln stands above all else, the building that now stands as the highest in Praireville still many levels below the bottom of his feet. Gentle raindrops falling upon him, Lincoln lifts his chin toward the sky, his skin softened by the tender droplets that coat his sinful flesh. “I’m the chosen one” Lincoln whispers into the heavens, his arms outstretched as the wind picks up speed, “I will die just the same.” His ears latching onto a nearby disturbance, Lincoln turns his focus in the opposite direction of where the helicopter had arrived, a much quicker set of forces speeding into his line of sight. His wherewithal still firmly intact, Lincoln narrowly dodges the double-attempt on his life with a flurry of evasive shifts, the forces opposing him zipping by with as little warning as they’d arrived with. “It took you longer than I’d expected” Lincoln barks, his voice carried through the air with grace, though spoken to Scarlett and Vic with a withered tone. Uninterested in sharing words any further than they already had, the girls ready themselves for a counterattack, dodging the wave of Lincoln’s hand by arching themselves at a precise angle, thwarting Lincoln’s assault with the principle of aerodynamics. The first to restabilise herself, Vic parts her fingers just as Lincoln had, the wave of her palm met with a similar lack of success. Crossing his arms, Lincoln allows the sonic blast to carry him many kilometres away, no aircraft or building to obstruct his propulsion, allowing him to slowly recapture control over his flight. Correctly assuming her attempt had faltered, Vic rips through the air in pursuit, leaving Scarlett to follow behind. Attempting to propel herself forward, Scarlett feels the grasp of an unfamiliar hand wrap around her wrist, not only preventing her from giving chase, but catapulting her back into the rubble-coated ground below. Her body spinning uncontrollably, Scarlett’s instincts eventually assume control, her eyes setting upon a specific destination as her frame adjusts for the plummet. In the last moment, Scarlett’s return to earth is corrected, her fist slamming into the already-fractured asphalt as she assumes a three-point pose, positioning herself just as any superhero would. Paying little mind to the aftershock she’d sent tearing through the earth’s core, Scarlett’s attention takes to the sky, a single figure becoming all the more familiar as she draws nearer, flanked by her mercenaries for added effect. “Step out of my way, Suzie” Scarlett orders, keeping her guard high at the uncertainty over the woman’s presence, “we want Lincoln dead just like you.” Her head shaking, Suzie touches upon the closest thing to solid ground Praireville can offer, Razul and Kazro led at her beck and call. “Were you not up there just a second ago? Did you not see him?” Suzie inquires, summoning her bright red service dagger with her heart set on war, “his clock’s just about to strike midnight.” Incensed, Scarlett takes a quick glance at the sky before returning her look toward Suzie, almost contemplating which conflict her fight is most needed. “So now you’ve got no worries. We’ve already outlasted the clock” Scarlett mutters beneath her breath, Suzie’s ear still able to capture every syllable uttered, “now you just need us dead.” With a shrug, Suzie raises her dagger toward Scarlett’s direction, the tip of her blade lining up directly with the blonde woman’s throat. “It’s nothing personal, kid-” Suzie replies, though her statement is true, an inescapable sense of mockery cloaks itself behind her declaration, “-don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Her eyes burning a hole through Suzie’s face, Scarlett peers into the sky for a second time, her mind trying to make sense of the predicament she’s encased within, and rationalise her response. “Vic can manage on her own” Scarlett replies, her hand lifting from the ground as she stands to her feet, the woman having returned to Praireville prepared for a war she now accepts the role she plays within it. Summoning her service weapon, Scarlett stares into Suzie’s eyes, refusing to allow the woman even the slightest opportunity to capitalise upon. Rather than disgust or approval, Suzie’s eyes widen in surprise, her face going pale as she steps back, rocked by what she discovers. “Impossible” Suzie whispers, the emphasis in her voice having fallen just as her battle-tested expression does. Confused, Scarlett watches Suzie’s dagger lower toward the ground, only able to guide herself by following her line of sight toward the source of her awestruck reaction. Her head lowering, Scarlett’s eyes lay upon the same unearthing as Suzie’s had, a similar reaction befalling her to that of her rival’s. Summoned just as it had countless times before, its structure as unchanged as its shape, Scarlett’s service weapon emerges from the realm beyond with a new look, its bold, dark red glow exchanged for a crisp, deep, oceanic blue. Simmering, Suzie locks eyes with Scarlett for a second time, her face beaten with an anger she’d yet to present. “Alright-” Suzie murmurs, readying her battle stance yet again, this time more driven than she’d been before, “-now it’s personal.” | \ Realm of Reality / Her hand wrapped around his throat, Vic and Lincoln twirl through the air with seemingly little end in sight, the younger woman shifting backward to evade the service dagger’s repeated swipes. Eventually forced to pull her hand away as the pulsating blade targets her arm, Vic and Lincoln momentarily separate, continuing to chase each other through the skies, now too far from the levelled Praireville skyline that they no longer recognise the air they occupy. Finally given a reprieve from combat, Lincoln takes immediate notice of Scarlett’s absence, something Vic takes an additional few seconds to realise for herself. “Where’s you friend, Victoria?” Lincoln exclaims, the whites of his eyes laggardly darkening into a sickly shade of yellow. “Where’s your sister, Christopher?” Vic rebukes, a question that instantly detours Lincoln’s attention. “Wh- how-?” Lincoln stammers, the vocalisation of his birth name clearly catching him by immense surprise, “how do you-?” The ability to finish his inquiry unafforded, Vic continues to wrench at the parts of Lincoln’s mind that make him tick, plunging the metaphorical blade further into his heart. “Why change your name, anyway?” Vic wonders aloud, pulling the trigger on her service weapon a few further times, each resounding charge she fires missing just as they have through the evenings entirety. “As if I’d tell you that?” Lincoln responds, scoffing at the woman’s qualm as he shields himself from a few extra discharged bolts from Vic’s service weapon, his dagger reflecting the charges further out into the deep sky, “it’s none of your concern to know.” Annoyed, Vic floats restlessly in nondescript Louisiana’s empty skies, the sounds of sirens and helicopters that had grown so distant recently now impossible to hear from so far away. “Don’t you wanna share your secrets?” Vic continues, their hostilities still held even though their clash now stalls, verbal warfare slowly becoming the preferred method of assault. “Secrets are the only things that are ever personal anymore. That’s the whole point- they’re ours” Lincoln responds, his face beginning to sag, “you take them with you when you die. They’re yours ‘till the end- and they stay that way.” Scowling at the man, Vic chooses to refute the need for bloodshed Lincoln has waged, relinquishing herself of her service weapon as she, knowingly, accepts her self-appointed position of vulnerability. “Is that what you want?” Vic wonders aloud, her peaceful display puzzling her violent foe, who remains suspended high above the sky, choosing to occupy the second side of the discussion. “Do you really wanna die- having done everything you’ve done, and seen everything you’ve done- do you really want it to just disappear?” Vic queries, watching Lincoln’s face fall lower, not from any changed emotions, but from a genuine focus on the woman’s inquiry. “I don’t care what I want” Lincoln responds, struggling to take in a full lung’s worth of air as he lifts the back of his shirt, the majority of it stained red with his blood. “I’m going to die regardless, secrets or no secrets- what difference would it make?” Lincoln responds, admitting that he has no expectation of survival by the night’s conclusion, “I’ll be a lost soul just as the rest are.” “And that doesn’t bother you?” Vic responds, the question remaining despite being raised as if it were a statement, a subtle look of repulsion in her face. “It doesn’t bother me anymore than it should bother you” Lincoln replies, the colour in his service dagger beginning to fade just as his life does, “you and I are cut from the same cloth.” Her eyes pressing closer together, Vic remains silent, her quietude prompting Lincoln to continue speaking, taking it as her request for elaboration. “Haven’t you ever wondered why all of your shit is coloured blue, and Scarlett’s is red?” Lincoln wonders aloud, the query always having settled at the back of Vic’s mind, though never having surfaced as anything more than a random thought, “you’re the same as my sister and I. We’re born into the realm pure, and they’re born corrupted.” Both restrained by the need to know more and furious at Lincoln’s inclination, Vic resummons her service weapon, prepared to re engage in battle. “You can try to kill me, that’s fine. It won’t change the fact that- the real war, how this game really ends- is between you and Scarlett” Lincoln posits, a limp nod granted as the far racket of aircraft creep closer. “If you really want me to share a secret before I go- here it is-” Lincoln remarks, still able to muster enough strength to reclaim his malevolent grin, “-I never thought Suzie would kill me, either.” Pushed beyond the desire to speak, Vic presses her finger upon her service weapon’s trigger, a steady flow of pulses discharged in Lincoln’s direction, all missing their target as the man speeds through the skies, retreating to the small, annihilated town they’d left behind. | \ Realm of Reality / Forced into a consistent withdrawal, Scarlett gives up copious amounts of land to Suzie, each centimetre she’s forced to pull away by is another centimetre her adversary forges ahead by. Leaping off the tops of ruined vehicles and around the corpses of many unfortunate folk, Scarlett evades Suzie’s onslaught one manoeuvre at a time, each brief success followed by the need to avoid a succeeding attack from either Razul or Kazro. “You don’t get redemption!” Suzie howls, thrusting her dagger-wielding hand forward at each sign of life Scarlett provides, slashing whatever lays ahead into multiple pieces and fragments. Driven into choosing her moments carefully, Scarlett presents a few, sparse counterattacks in Suzie’s direction, most proving ineffective as time passes. “Alright, kid- let’s see how you like this” Suzie exclaims, the fingers on her right hand bending forward until her palm resembles a claw, the tips of her fingers held in Scarlett’s direction. Puckering her lips, Suzie blows on the empty hand and launches it forward, her massive combatant accomplices quickly snapping themselves back into the realm beyond’s embrace. Though what flies toward her direction takes on no appearance whatsoever, a brief, red flash of light begins to blink from the perceived emptiness, leaving Scarlett with little more than impulse to act on. The mangled husk of what was one a minivan now guided through the air by her hand, Scarlett braces for cover as the unassuming orb makes contact with the vehicle’s wreckage, cascading the immediate area in an explosion upon impact. Her mind taking control of her movements, Scarlett’s fingers snap just as the heat touches upon the back of her neck, the spot she’d occupied before vanishing levelled by the minivan mere seconds later. The explosion soon subsiding, Praireville’s remains begin to quiet, the charred remnants of what once comprised a minivan beginning to settle into its resting place, no sign of Scarlett’s body left before it. Though not convinced her objective has been accomplished, Suzie approaches the scene with cautious optimism, slowly encroaching upon Scarlett’s last-known position with her eyes peeled. Dagger wielded, Suzie guides the van away from its journey’s end via her telekinesis, holding out hope that she’ll uncover a grizzly, welcomed sight. “Let me save you the trouble” Scarlett whispers into Suzie’s ear, provoking the woman into spinning around defensively, her target yet to resurface. Catching Suzie’s eye off the ball, Scarlett reemerges behind the woman’s back, her finger on the trigger of her service weapon as its barrel aims at the back of Suzie’s head. Prepared to pull the trigger, Scarlett’s efforts prove futile, her fatal intentions interfered with at the last moment. Saving his sister’s life, Lincoln soars through the air and thrusts his hand forward, thrusting Scarlett through the air with incredible forces once thought unimaginable. Again compelled by her intuition, Scarlett rescues herself from certain death by reclaiming control over her body, narrowly avoiding a direct collision with an overturned eighteen wheeler by taking to the sky. Her ascent slowing, Scarlett relinquishes her service weapon once more, the hand she replaces it with now balled into a fist, its aim taken toward her point of lift off. Only just now realising the fate that almost claimed her existence, Suzie’s eyes fall upon Lincoln, the man’s face wearing the expression of a man on his last legs. “Heads up” Lincoln groans, aware of the assault Scarlett plans on launching next. Jarred by Lincoln’s preservation of her life, Suzie looks to him with a shocked look, only then recognising what’s bound for the ground she currently resides upon. With all the strength he still wields, Lincoln launches himself into the sky, following his sister’s lead as Scarlett collides with earth once more, her three point stance accompanying it as Lincoln and Suzie descend from the heavens. His legs going weak, Lincoln falls to one knee, the sight of his fragility prompting Suzie and Scarlett’s battle to briefly cease, their attention set upon the dying soul. “What!?” Lincoln groans as loud as he can muster, forcing himself back to two feet as a pair of headlights round the corner a few hundred metres behind him, “haven’t you ever heard of a man’s dying breath?” Interrupted by the squealing sound of tires drawing near, Lincoln’s head turns toward the opposite end of the road, the oncoming pair of lights rapidly speeding in his direction. Having returned just in time to spectate the sudden lull in combat, Vic joins Suzie and Scarlett in returning to the realm beyond with the snap of their fingers, only Lincoln left upon the dishevelled streets. “This is for the rookie” West mutters beneath his breath, both hands gripping tightly around the steering wheel as his foot presses into the gas pedal, refusing to accept anything less than the highest speed his cruiser can manage. His time drawing to a close, Lincoln defies the realm one final time, his mangled left hand outstretched toward the car as the right prepares for his send off. His timing impeccable, Lincoln’s fingers snap just as the skin on his finger connects with the hood of West’s cruiser, vanishing into thin air along with the sheriff and the vehicle his existence is sentenced to death with. | \ Realm Beyond - Eternal Office - The Mezzanine / Landing without issue, Suzie hears the bottoms of Scarlett and Vic’s shoes collide with the ground, tapping along the linoleum finish as they struggle to keep their balance. “There’s no way you’re still this clueless by now, guys” Suzie remarks, quietly judging the girls as she reunites with her brutes, Razul and Kazro returning to her sides. “That’s pretty tough talk for-” Scarlett begins to reply, her thoughts interrupted as a gust of wind begins to circulate throughout the towering foyer, a rumble growing in the realm’s heavens. Within moments, the roaring sound of a powerful engine rips through the mezzanine, unable to stop its momentum before barrelling over the floor’s lip and into the dark, lifeless abyss below. “What the fuck!?” Vic exclaims, leaping back in shock as she does so seconds before Lincoln’s body leaves the air, landing hard upon the mezzanine’s ground. “Chris!” Suzie screams, overtaken with grief in a moment powerful enough for her to forget their chequered past, the incomparable hatred she holds for him instantly disappearing as the true care the likes of which she’d hidden deep within herself long ago, returns to the surface. No longer Lincoln’s greatest rival, Suzie becomes her brother’s baby sister once more, the bond they’d allowed to fall into disrepair rekindled just as the clock begins to strike midnight. Lincoln’s head in her hands, Suzie looks into the man’s dark, yellow eyes as tears begin to fall from those of her own, his devious grin replaced with a sympathetic, gracious smile. “Hey, sis” Lincoln whispers, his barely-operable hand finding the back of Suzie’s own, the blue glow in his eyes turning their own shade of inevitable red, “it’s good to see you.” His palm already cold, Lincoln’s hand falls limp, slowly grazing Suzie’s hand as it falls to the ground, his glassy eyes losing their lustre as the red glow dies out, their natural, hazel colour replacing it. The first tear she’d allowed to run for her brother now falling upon Lincoln’s forehead as it drops from her chin, Suzie’s lip begins to quiver, her brother’s final moments spent protecting her just as his first had. Quiet, Scarlett and Vic watch on, a suppressed concern just beginning to climb toward the surface, the idea that the sights set before them offer a glimpse into a collective future begin to weigh upon their frazzled minds. Their heads slowly turning away from the disheartening scene, Scarlett and Vic’s eyes soon take to each other, a silent realisation that they share a fear of the future brings with it a steady chill down the back of their necks. == Dream Sequence == |
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