The Runaways: K.A.O.

XIV

  "Holy shit." Michael's voice wavered as our worlds surrounded in dark. "Open your eyes."

 "No way." I opened them, the blackness took a while to go away and the colors burned inside my eyelids. 

"Bolts." We looked over to Thompson. 

"Thompson." We poked at his unmoving body. 

"Nessie." He looked up at the two of us, eyes misty. "Michael... We did it." He hugged onto us tightly, it was out of character but gave me relief. 

"I told you." I wanted to cry myself. 

  After a moment more of group-hugging, we stood up proudly together. We looked around the plane for a while more, the insides weren't damaged. We climbed out of the airplane, but once we turned back, it was missing. 

"Where in the blazes did it go?" Thompson recoiled. 

"We beat your fear, they can't use it against you anymore." I said. 

  We continued down the room, the panels keeping us in glitched into different colors and began to break apart. Although we walked further and further, nothing showed up. It was a void of nothingness. 

"Are we stuck in here?" Michael asked. 

Thump. 

"No." I held onto my chest and stopped. 

Ba-thump 

"What's going on?" He asked again as the ground began to quake. 

My fear..?

"Hey!" I reached out my hand to grab onto someone, but the ground from under me fell. I looked around as the scenery changed. Everything grew black and dark. 

  My biggest fear was being alone... abandoning those who needed me. Being abandoned by those that I needed. Never seeing who I loved again. 

Nightmares that came true. 

"I'm not falling for it!" I tried to keep my calm. "I know this loneliness isn't real!" I screamed into the void. 

Nothing. 

"I'm not afraid! I'm not! I have friends waiting for me!" I called out, this was the strongest I could be. 

"Are you sure?" A voice echoed out to me. 

"Who's there?" I looked around. 

"Are you sure they believe you to be their friend? They only follow you because you force them, they are only scared of death." It continued to speak. 

"You're a liar!" I growled. "Who are you?" 

"I have no name to give you. Simply an he, him, his, himself." His words made my mind boil. 

"What do you want? I know you can't hurt me, you're nothing!" I argued. 

"As are you." My heart stopped. "See?" An image appeared. 

  I trembled looking ahead past the darkness, and the image revealed me. But it wasn't me. It was my body, I laid there, slain. Dead by the hands of... Michael? He held a gun, pointed my way and Thompson quietly stepped over my bleeding body. 

This wasn't real. 

"That's not real." I shook. "How could I be talking to you if it was?" 

"How do you know if the words you speak are yours? Not programmed like a puppet? A simple puppet that doesn't know the fine, fine line between life and death. I am nothing but a voice, or an imaginary breath you seek to console yourself." His words confused me. 

"You're not real." I crossed my arms and closed my eyes. 

"Is that all you can say?" 

"You are not real." 

"The weakest robot speaks the most basic of phrases." 

"You aren't real!" I screamed and felt a tug at my heart. I kept my eyes closed and felt a shatter around my body. 

"Vanessa!" I opened my eyes to the familiar voice. 

"Oh thank god!" I opened my arms wide to hug the body. 

"Why, this isn't like you." The voice chuckled, I trembled. "You don't usually hug me like this." 

"Father." I opened my eyes and pushed away. 

"No need to be embarrassed." He chuckled some more, the wrinkles on his face creased. 

"This can't be real." I pressed my hands against his face, but I could only feel warmth under the skin. 

"Vanessa, are you alright?" He asked me, concern shone through his light blue eyes. 

Light blue.

"I-I'm alright."  I tried to back away from his, but he stayed close. 

"Are you sure honey? You look a bit pale." He raised his hand, but I kicked it away. 

Clack. 

"Now, is that any way to behave towards me?" His demeanor changed, his still raised arm revealed his now-missing hand. 

"You're not my father!" I stared wide-eyed at the wires coming out of his wrist. 

"Vanessa!" He shouted, face distorting. 

"You're not real! You're not!" I continued screaming, I could feel my voice growing hoarse. 

"I can understand why you're scared, "His broken hand stroked my cheek, I felt a jolt. "But everyone's better this way. Soon we'll all be this way." 

 No.

"Never!" Before I knew it, my fist ripped through the air, striking my father's face. 

  His eyes were brown. 

"You'd never give up." I attacked and struck him until he was nothing more than broken metal parts covered in oil. 

  The room around me shattered and revealed Thompson and Michael staring at me with wide eyes. I looked down at my arms, which should have been covered in oil, but were clean instead. I held my hand in tight fists and looked down. 

  I cried. 

  That was the worst. 

  The hot tears streamed down my face. 

  I had to kill the person I loved most.