Snapped II

Connor’s words echoed threateningly in Lazarus’ mind and he watched dumbly as Connor walked off for about a second, before speeding over to his car. He didn’t bother with his seat belt before turning the key in the ignition, muttering curses under his breath. As he sped off, his foot seemed to stick to the accelerator.

‘Crap,’ Lazarus muttered, unable to move his foot. He wasn’t sure if it was the rising agitation that made his foot feel so very heavy, or if it was something sticky on the pedal keeping his foot there. Either way, Lazarus had no choice but to speed on forwards, taking corners at frightening speeds. On a stretch of straight road, Lazarus turned his attention to getting his foot off the pedal. He had misjudged his speed and the length of the road and as he glanced up out of the windscreen, the last thing he saw was a lamppost. He spun the wheel frantically and everything went black.

Connor raced back to the apartment block, his face set in a strangely determined laugh. He watched Lazarus speed off and chuckled. The next time he saw Lazarus was closer to the apartment block. Half the car was wrapped around a lamppost, the windscreen and driver side window shattered. Little chunks of glass like small square gems littered the inside of the car and clung to Lazarus’ hair and face. The glass from the windscreen was red with blood.

Lazarus’ head hung limply to the side and his expression was one of blank agony. His eyes were closed, his mouth open a little. Connor watched a little dribble of blood roll down Lazarus’ rough cheek, settling in the corner of his mouth. Early morning light sparkled off the shattered glass, illuminating the scene like light through a kaleidoscope.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, through sluggish thoughts, Lazarus could feel someone’s eyes on me. He didn’t even have the strength to wince as the door was opened, the noise reverberating inside his head like a gun shot. Warm hands wrapped themselves around his upper arms, pulling at him. He groaned slightly as somewhere down his body, he felt the seat being taken away from him.

Connor dragged Lazarus’ limp body out of the car from the passenger side, hauling him away from the wreckage of a car.

‘G-Gabriel?’ Lazarus murmured, opening his eyes. He was in a dark room. He tried to look around, but his neck hurt too much. What the hell happened?

‘Gabriel? Shouldn’t you be asking after your precious Melissa?’ Connor’s voice laughed down at him. Lazarus glared up at the space where he thought Connor’s voice was coming from. It was too dark to see, but he couldn’t tell if he even had his eyes open. Connor sneered at the blond man through the darkness. ‘Not so big now, are we? What a mess you put yourself in there. I didn’t need to lift a finger.’ Connor crouched before Lazarus, smirking, though the man’s eyes were closed, sealed shut with his own blood. He was propped up against the wall of the garage, beside someone’s gas tank. ‘I have to go. Got some... business to attend to.’ He rose, kicking Lazarus on his way out for good measure.

‘Come back you son of a...’ Lazarus started, but he fell silent when he heard the door slam shut. Darkness took him again and he found himself dropped in a masquerade, a room full of strangers, whirling around him, and all he was looking for was his angel. His angel was nowhere to be found and as his panic increased, the dancers got faster. He recognised the music they waltzed to, a warped version of one of his is own compositions, written so many years ago. Gabriel’s face appeared, shimmering as if in a heat haze.

‘Gabriel...’ Lazarus whispered, his low voice full of emotions that the masked dancers could not read. They would never understand. Gabriel’s face split into a sneer and Connor’s voice shredded through him like a rusty razor.

If I can’t have her, nobody can. Nobody can. Nobody can!’ Lazarus’ eyes snapped open and pain tore through his body.

‘Melissa!’ he cried weakly, trying to get up. Only half healed, what should be an easy feat became a struggle between his will power and gravity. He swore vehemently and used whatever was within reach to hold onto. He quickly realised where he was and oriented himself towards the apartment block elevators. He just hoped they would be working.

‘Come on you pile of crap.’ He muttered as he pounded the call buttons. Eventually the doors dinged open and he huddled himself in the corner, hitting the button for his floor. The lift couldn’t move quick enough as it slowly made its way to the fourth floor. ‘That’s it. Take your own sweet time. Because I don’t have somewhere to be at all.’ He growled at the elevator. He punched the wall frustrated and cursed as it pushed a shard of glass further into his fist. Biting his lip to stop himself screaming, he glared at the door, waiting for the lift to shudder to a halt. Finally, the doors opened and he pushed himself along the corridor as fast as he could, not realising that he was leaving a trail of blood behind him. If he had realised, he wouldn’t have cared anyway.

 ‘Get off me!’ Melissa’s shrill voice echoed off the corridor walls and fuelled Lazarus into a painful, maddened run.  Connor muttered something indistinguishable and Lazarus felt sick at the thought of his hands on her.

‘Lazarus!’ Melissa cried as he appeared in the doorway. He looked terrible, she noticed dimly. He was covered in blood, glass and his skin was ashen from the effort of racing up from the garage. Connor spun around and faced Lazarus, furious.

The End

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