Biker Mice From Mars - Fear Makes The Wolf Bigger Than He Is

Chapter 2

Chapter two

And I still hold your hand in mine...In mine when I'm asleep...

Charley moved her fingers, trying to find his.
Desperately yearning for feeling his soft fur under her fingertips.
For feeling his warmth.
But when she gradually closed her hand, there was nothing.
Nothing but coldness.
Loneliness.
And a breath-taking emptiness.

As if struck by lightning, her green eyes burst open and while desperately gasping for air, Charley flew upright in her bed, sweat trickling down her heated face.
"Jesus, Charley", someone with a husky voice breathed near her head and she looked around her bewildered before her gaze landed on Throttle, who stumbled backward and almost tripped over the chair close to the bed.
He was obviously startled by her waking up so abruptly, but the strangest thing was that his antennas were glowing red, although it now slowly faded as he looked at her with shock written upon his usually calm face.
Perhaps there was even a slight hint of caution, as if he was trying to predict her next move like she was some kind of wild animal.

Breathing heavily, Charley rubbed her wet face, confused to find herself in bed instead of sitting in that horrible red grass and it was then when that agonizing pain washed over her again, for she now suddenly fully realized again what had happened.
A muffled sob escaped her lips as it literally took her breath away and she lowered her trembling hands before she looked at Throttle again, tears blurring her vision.
Without thinking, she reached out to him and in her desperate attempt to feel his fur under her fingers in the hope that would ease the pain, if only a bit, she almost fell out of the bed.

But the tan-furred mouse quickly caught her before she could, thanks to his excellent reflexes and she clung onto him, bursting into tears.
"Oh, God, Throttle, he's gone... He just killed him, right in front of me and there was nothing I could do... I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry...", she cried uncontrollably, crawling even closer to him, as far as that was possible.
As she buried her face into his shirt, she felt two strong arms wrapping around her quivering body, which only made her even more upset, for it wasn't the pair of arms she so desperately yearned for right now.

"Charley... Charley, breathe... There's something you need to know...", Throttle said softly yet a bit compellingly, his warm breath close to her ear, but Charley hardly heard him, taking his shirt in a tight grip as her body shook from crying.
She tried so hard to stop the images from flashing in front of her eyes, but it was as if her brain just wanted to remind her, over and over again, what she had lost.
"He just slit his throat like it was nothing, and I... I just stood t-there... Jesus, there was so much blood... Why would someone do... do such a thing? Why oh why?", she sobbed, completely heartbroken and despite her attempts to snap out of it, still entirely caught up in the traumatizing memory.

The way that knife, that huge and sharp knife, had cut through Vinnie's flesh as if it was nothing...
Even the sound kept echoing through her head, that sickening, somehow smacking sound, soon followed by him gasping for air.
And his eyes...
Oh, God, his eyes.
Wide open, mortal fear shimmering in the red flames of his irises...
Her entire body convulsed against Throttle's and she almost choked in her tears, for the pain was literally unbearable.
She wasn't able to handle this.
She had no idea how to deal with this immense emptiness.
It was merely impossible.
"Throttle, it hurts... it hurts so bad... I just want him back... Please, make him come back..."

She vaguely noticed that Throttle tried to untangle himself from her insanely tight grip, probably to look her in the eye, but she wasn't ready.
She would never be ready to look at him again, for it would only remind her of him and God, the thought alone made her beyond sick.
"Charley, please, calm down and listen to me..."
The fact that his husky voice didn't sound like Vinnie's made her cry even harder, which was actually quite the miracle and saliva dripped out of her mouth on his shirt as another wave of anguish made her almost suffocate, forcing her to close her eyes, although that was the last thing she wanted right now.
As expected, the moment she closed them, the image of Vinnie forced itself upon her.
The very image of him sitting there, held by the two men, with that knife on his throat.
Completely helpless, waiting for death to take him.
Probably praying it wouldn't hurt.
Oh, God... Vinnie...