❝she said annihilation is not the answer, but it's the only answer.❞
The story of Malena Ström and her role in setting off one of the largest hacks in history.
[ongoing - slow updates]
[Elliot Alderson x ofc]
[season o...
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THEM
❝I fucked up. ❞
The phrase kept repeating in his head in an endless loop as he slumped in his seat. The only other inhabitant of the cart and fellow survivor of the night, Malena Ström, occupied the seat across from him. Her body perched up against the space and shivering intensely
The poor girl had to get rid of her blood-soaked pullover and acquired, by request, his black tee-shirt as a replacement. He reluctantly relinquished the piece of clothing after discovering that her back had a few remnants of dry blood across it. The other places of exposed skin along her body, including her hair, were stained with dirt. She managed to style it in such a way where it became unnoticeable. Not caring at all that it exposed the nasty bruises along her neck. Her eyes lacked focus and were glossy, probably scarred from the various things she saw. Yet, when her eyes finally connected to his, she smiled. An obviously fake half-smile that still somehow felt reassuring.
Her out of place positivity caused his light green eyes to well with tears, which he attempted to suppress by moving his eyesight toward the other side of the cart. He couldn't allow himself to be perceived as a vulnerable, weak person. At least, not in front of her. "Are you okay, Ace?" asked Malena.
"I'm okay," he replied, flatly.
She would have no idea otherwise. All the scars that resulted from the traumatic day were emotional. He would never stare at the mirror only to find a scar on his body that would inevitably remind him of Shayla. No, he'd carry the weight internally. A memory that would never, ever, ever leave him. Even if he managed to accept what happened, the memory would always find a way to come back to haunt him. Elliot deserved worse than just emotional pain yet somehow, he got away physically unpunished. Why didn't Fernando Vera kill him instead? No one would miss him if he died. Not even Malena or Shayla, they'd remember him for a few days until they moved on. Especially, Malena. He had no doubt that she would find life without him easier.
"I won't make fun of you," Malena told him with a sense of seriousness in the tone of her voice. She probably thought he was trying to be to masculine. It must be a universal thing that people teach men. "I want to, um, to help you."
Suddenly, without any more words, the Swedish girl moved to the seat to the left of him. Then positioned herself closely against him. Her bare legs swung over his legs, allowing her leather skirt to ride up her thighs. Just laying inches above the inside of her legs. Malena's decency shielded by his sweater clad arm blocking the view. Her head rested against his tense shoulders causing her hair to tickle the skin on his neck. Instinctively, he flinched from the abrupt touch but she calmed him with the motion of her dirty fingertips. The nail of her index finger kept tracing the letters of her name on his arm. Every swipe leaving a trail of white behind on his skin that would slowly turn into a red color.
He followed along over and over again. Letting the movement distract him from his gloomy thoughts.
