Infamous: A Haunted Fanfiction

Grayson/Drake: The New World

Grayson wiped the tears from his eyes. Everything was blurry. His head hurt where the arrow had hit him, but the pain in his heart felt worse. The fire in front of him flickered, casting strange shadows into the wood. To his left, his armor sat, bloodstained and dented. Grayson rubbed the purple helmet in his lap, thinking of it's owner. Oh, Armen. The main thought in his head at the moment was why? Why would he do such a thing? Herobrine was gone, but... Staring at the flames brought back memories of the battle. Armen, back pressed against the pillar, trying to dodge the arrows raining down around them, the flames reflected in his enchanted armor. Drake, beside Armen, desperately trying to shield his best friend. And Grayson. Who was to slow to realize what Armen was planning. Too slow to stop him from tackling the demon over the cliff with the sword. Too slow. The sound of footsteps brought Grayson out of his thoughts. He looked up. Drake was walking toward him. With his enderman half, brown hair and two different color eyes, Drake was one of the scariest people Grayson had ever seen.  Grayson flinched. Drake's expression was distant, his eyes shadowed by sadness. However guilty Grayson felt, Drake surely felt worse. Drake's Ender ear twitched. "Hey, Grayson." He muttered. Grayson gazed at his friend. It looked like Drake had something on his mind. Drake wasn't looking at Grayson, though. Grayson followed Drake's gaze and realized he was looking at the helmet. "I think I'm going to head out on my own." Drake said finally. Grayson blinked, startled. Drake sighed. Grayson nodded in understanding, though a small twinge in his chest told him how much he'd miss the hybrid. "Sure, man." Grayson whispered. Drake hesitated. "Could I have the helmet?" Grayson looked up, surprised. For a minute, he wanted to refuse, but the look in Drake's eye was so painful. "Yeah, sure." Grayson heard himself say. He held out the helmet. Drake took it, holding it as if it was something precious. Grayson felt his eyes begin to burn again. Drake looked so...Alone, as if he was gone already. "I'm sorry." Drake muttered, his gaze on the helmet. "I just... I don't want any reminders."  Grayson flinched, though he did understand... Kind of. "Wont the helmet serve as a reminder, though?" He asked. Drake paused. "I think the helmet is more of a reminder of Armen, not...What happened here." Drake's voice caught a little when he said Armen's name. Grayson nodded in understanding. Drake turned to leave, then glanced behind him. "Maybe we'll see eachother again someday." He said. Grayson nodded. Drake paused. "Goodbye Grayson." He whispered, then turned and disappeared into the woods. "Goodbye Drake." Grayson whispered, too late. The hybrid was gone.

Grayson yawned. Opening his eyes, the empty fireplace was the first thing he saw. "Ok, Grayson." He told himself, "First things first. Take inventory. " Grayson glanced around. He didnt have much, just the armor, his matching sword, and some food. Grayson began to pick up camp, pausing to glance around every once in a while. Well, old habits die hard. Herobrine may be gone, but there were still many dangers. Who knew what things lived on this new world? Grayson also found himself glancing into the woods where Drake had disappeared. "Why didn't I try to stop him?" Grayson wondered. Then he sighed. Alone again. He turned  and walked toward the rising sun. The woods were peaceful, and the further Grayson got from Ironmere, the more wildlife he saw. Most of it seemed to be the same as his world, though the plantlife was way different. At one point Grayson could have sworn he saw an Oak tree with an eye. He stayed away, though. If his time being chased by Herobrine taught him anything, it was to be wary. Of everything. Grayson traveled for a few days, until he came upon a small wooden house. It was old, but in better shape than any building Grayson has seen so far. Grayson walked inside and was greeted with a  small living area. There was even a small couch and rocking chair! Grayson sank into the couch, relishing the soft fabric. It was worn, but it seemed to be in good condition. Grayson couldn't see anything wrong with it. After resting for a bit, Grayson decided to explore the rest of the house. It was a one story, no basement, with a large kitchen and bath. The kitchen had brown cupboards, with gray tile. Grayson tried the sink, and, to his surprise, water began to flow. It was brown at first, but after a minute it cleared. Well, that's nice. Off the kitchen was a small bedroom. The bed had a green blanket and pillow, and a small brown dresser. Grayson opened the dresser. It was empty. Grayson sat on the bed. It was getting dark, and he was tired. "This seems like an ok place to stay for awhile." Grayson decided. The house, though in good condition, was abandoned. The empty dresser confirmed this. "Maybe tomorrow I can try to find out why they left." Grayson thought, lying on the bed. Before long, after a week of sleeping on the ground, Grayson fell asleep. 

Drake sighed. He felt hollow. It had been about a week since he split with Grayson.  As he walked through the wood, headed east, he couldn't stop thinking about Armen. His sacrifice ran like a broken record through Drake's head. "Why didn't I stop him?" Drake muttered, staring at the ground. Armen had been his best friend. Now Drake had no clue what to do with himself. His whole life had been centered around Armen, and now he was gone. Distracted, Drake tripped on a root. He cried out in surprise as he slid down a steep incline. He ended up inside a hollow in the ground. He sat there for a second. "Dammit." He muttered, examining himself. His sleeve was torn, and a long cut traveled down his arm. His pant leg was torn as well, and felt warm and sticky underneath. Drake exhaled. "Well, that's just great."  Drake muttered, glaring up the incline where he had fallen. Still muttering to himself, he tore his pant leg off completely, revealing a nasty cut. Drake sighed. "Ok." He told himself. "I need water." He looked around. Thankfully, he'd fallen only a few feet from a spring. Swiveling to face it, he put his leg into the water. Drake yelped. "Damn! That's cold!" He yelped, pulling his leg out of the water. The water was freezing. Drake grit his teeth. "Come on, Drake. Don't be a baby." He muttered, sliding his leg back in. The water was cold, but now Drake knew what to expect and forced himself to keep his leg in the water. After Drake got used to the cold, he began to clean his wound. As he cleaned, he became aware of a strange feeling awakening in his leg. Startled, Drake quickly pulled his leg out of the water. After a minute, the feeling faded. "Is the water poisoned?" Drake wondered, worried. He took another look at his leg. It seemed fine. The cut was still there, but it had stopped bleeding. Did cuts usually stop bleeding that fast? Drake shook his head. "It must not have been that bad of a cut." Drake decided.  Drake tore off a strip of fabric from his T-shirt. Turning, he wrapped his cut in the cloth. "Better safe than sorry." Drake said, glancing at the spring. He was low on water. Should he fill his bottles here? He would, if not for the strange effect it seemed to have on his leg. Drake turned away. "I'll find another place to get water." He told himself. There had to be more springs. Maybe rivers and lakes. Those were all freshwater sources, right? Then a tingly feeling erupted on the back of Drake's neck. Drake stood, looking around warily. Was he being watched? He turned toward what seemed to be the source of the feeling. Drake squinted. Was that a person? He could barely make out a figure, just across the spring. Just looking that direction made his head hurt. Then the rustling of leaves distracted him. It was coming from the opposite direction. Drake turned. An animal, maybe? "Hello?" Drake called hesantly. The russling paused. "Hello?" A girl with short blonde hair appeared out of the woods, her dark blue eyes hesant. Drake jumped, startled, and fell into the spring. He sunk, frozen with shock. Then Drake  struggled, in a maze of bubbles. He couldn't tell which way was up. The tingly feeling returned, and Drake struggled harder, panic evolving him. Dark spots danced in his eyes. Drake couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Didn't matter anyway. He was never coming back. Drake would never see him again. But if he stayed, here, stopped fighting, maybe he could see him again. Drake closed his eyes, waiting, as his conscious faded, one word in his head.

 Armen.