Earlier.
Frank and Amethyst split up, in search of food and drink.
Frank navigates between the partygoers, not exactly seeing where he’s going, trusting his sense of direction. Being just short enough, just average enough, to not see over the crowd.
The tightly packed people ahead of him toast glasses and hold plates full of delicious delicacies and are seemingly somehow able to chatter over this cacophony.
“Excuse me-!” Frank’s arid throat struggles to reach levels high enough for them to hear him over the noise, forcing a cough out instead.
The suit doesn’t exactly breathe well either, having been rather toasty during their dance, and again, building up heat amid the crowd.
Failing to get their attention, he squeezes sideways from between the backs of the people blocking the way, they barely give him space.
As he breaks through, to marginally move spacious waters, a thought occurs to him.
Oh, actually, should I have gone with Amethyst, how will she manage to plate up any food?
Frank looks back, the path he took has now completely grown shut, like wild vines, the people have encroached over the vacant space already.
Oh well, I’m sure other people will help her, they’re a good bunch… mostly.
Frank arrives at the impossibly long tables, set with pristine white tablecloths and lots of bottles arranged in a row, each with their own area.
In front of them; glasses of different sizes and shapes, but while those were rather normal by all accounts, the same could not be said about the bottles, or the liquids being served.
Hmm...
What kind of a drink would she like… something fruity, I bet.
He moves along the table and reads the labels of exotic drinks, juices, and carbonated beverages:
First up, a plethora of glass bottles, which look like antique beer bottles due to their brown translucent coloring.
They have old-looking yellowed handwritten labels that read: “Smoked floral Drumrice – contains nuts, may contain traces of kiln-fish.”
There’s a small sign in front of it made from paper that’s bent from the middle, with some small handwriting reading: “Do not inhale (that’s illegal).”
The hazy beige liquid poured into the glasses, ready to be served, seems to already be evaporating some sort of gray vapors by itself, making it a challenge to follow the note’s advice.
Is this… self-brewed?
Who even brought this here? Isn’t this supposed to be expensive?
Instinctively Frank takes a few steps back, for a moment he could almost smell it, the distinctive smell of rotting fish.
It’s enough to sway him to leave it alone. Regardless of its odor, it seemed to have been popular, given the plethora of empty bottles behind the counter.
The brew next to it is of a murky purplish-green color, with swirls of yellow in it, resting still in a wide bowl.
An elegantly dressed woman ahead takes a glass of it, and as she returns the ladle to the soup, it sinks into the thick and foul liquid with a squelching sound.
A large droplet flies out onto the already very stained tablecloth, it's like a localized explosion zone around the bowl.
In front of it, a barely legible, spotty note reads: “Pioneer’s Special Punch – Taste discovery! (sense of awe varies per person).”
Yeah, no way. I’m not drinking that.
Frank grimaces and moves to the next one.
At first glance, it appears to be a square-cornered completely normal clear bottle. However, the label is written in ugly crayons, with some bizarre runes around the only readable text:
“Orphan’s Tears – Help fund the continued operation of Child’s Joy Orphanage. The biggest Orphanage in the United Galaxy!
*Each label is uniquely drawn by one of our lovely kids, this one is by: Ælßä, say hi!”
Even the signature is completely incomprehensible… Sorry kid, but I ain’t touching that.
The cause might be good, but how am I supposed to drink that with children’s tears branded in my mind?
Frank endures the gnawing thirst and dodges a few guests, passing into what appears to be a section for some of the more popular drinks.
He observes the plethora of bottles from behind the mostly human barricade.
An orange bottle, shaped like a curvy fantasy-like potion, its contents are poured into a glass, but nothing appears to come out.
Only the faint carbonated bubbles bouncing off reveal the invisible drink’s presence.
Further ahead, a Y-shaped, completely black bottle with two mouths is taken off the table by staff and a full one is delivered by another, holding firmly to its two handles.
The person struggles to lift it onto the table, as if it weighed a lot, despite the puny bottle.
Next to it, a golden magic lamp-shaped carafe with equally resplendent liquid bathes the area around it in splendor, making it all look that much more grandiose.
These, and other peculiarities that he didn’t wish upon Amethyst or his own taste buds, are left behind as the first table ends.
At the second table, he manages to get nearer to the drinks again. However, there seems to be a small queue and Frank takes his place behind two men.
“Do you think there’ll be fireworks, I think Pioneer has some? It’d be the perfect atmosphere for that...” A man asks, vaguely turning towards his dark-haired buddy behind him.
“Are you serious? Is that girl all you think about? You’re part of the staff too, Marty, so don’t get too involved with the VIP Explorers. Trust me, you really don’t want to.”
“Come on Stefan, live a little. Besides, I saw you cast some glances at the gloomy one.” He jabs his friend in the ribs. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Glances of contempt maybe, did you even listen to what they were saying? Especially she didn’t seem… right in the head.
Anyway! Forget your romantic fireworks, and think for a second. What of the Tyrchids? Don’t you remember how they responded to just hearing music the first time?”
Stefan shakes his head, as the queue moves forward.
“Oh, right… But! They did learn to accept it though, didn’t they? We wouldn’t have seen them dance today otherwise?”
“Well, sure, but what if they flew over when the fireworks blew up?”
“Fine, fine… you buzzkill.”
The two gentlemen turn to leave with their filled glasses but abruptly stop. “Huh, where’s Fanny, and the other two? They were right here…?”
Frank almost crashes into Stefan’s back, who hurries his roadblock of a friend along. “You’re holding up the line, just go!”
Finally, they leave, and Frank gets a good look at the drinks served there.
The first one of this table is kept in a grail-like vessel, the pearlescent substance shines bright like a lantern, in fact, Frank mistook it for one of the table lights for a second.
The silver grail's dazzling liquid has a label, written in beautiful cursive:
“Aelyndis’ Ails for All – The positive power of a Radiant in a bottle!”
Somehow, I have a feeling I wouldn't get much sleep tonight if I took a swig of that.
Frank turns around to see the two men from before down their glasses, drinking it all in one. As they open their eyes, they cast two cones of light from their eyes, bright like headlights.
Moving on...
Two identical bottles of translucent blue, with ready-poured glasses of equally aquamarine liquid, catch his eye.
However, the two bottle’s labels are not the same.
“The Blue of Galaxy – Galaxy’s #1 blue drink.”
“The Blue of The Galaxy – The Galaxy’s #1 blue drink.”
Wait a second...
So… The blue of Galaxy is of any galaxy, while the blue of The Galaxy is #1 in our galaxy? So, the first one is a rip-off of the second one?
I mean… it looks kind of good, but which one is the fake one, really?
Next in line, is a familiar mascot decorating a label.
The lizard wizard… we meet again.
The scaly spellcaster decorates the highly commercial-looking label, waving its wand and holding onto its wide-brimmed pointy hat decorated with stars.
“Tastes unlike any of its ingredients!” it says in a speech bubble.
“Centizard Fake-Whiskey – 1% centipede, 50% lizard, 100% flavor.”
There are bits of lizard toes, scales, teeth, and even a tongue floating in the bottle. It smells as much death, as it was for those animals.
How’s anyone supposed to drink this thing?
As Frank retreats coughing from the smell, a woman wearing a gray conservative dress overtakes him from the side.
She looks at him briefly with a furrowed brow, and Frank catches a small glimpse of what appears to be a small Centizard pin attached to her chest, clashing with the rest of her outfit.
She pours a pint full of the foul concoction, the bottle’s mouth at least had a mesh filter, to keep all the nasty bits in the bottle.
This next one Frank was sure nobody would touch; “Wasteland’s Waste – Less crunch, finer sand version.”
Each glass has pebbles and admittedly—fine sand—at the bottom, the liquid itself is a mixture of red and brown, which don’t seem to mix, like oil and water.
Understandably the front of this serving is deserted, it looks like all the glasses are untouched.
The Exo-drink industry truly has gone too far…
A wonderful aroma of coffee wafts to him from somewhere nearby, and he locates steaming quaint coffee cups of white with golden and silver decor.
The thermos flask is strikingly red and has a list of ingredients, along with the title and slogan of the drink.
“Letinezia’s Lustful Latte – Enjoyed best with celestial creatures or cowards.”
It looks like Coffee, and smells like one, with some sort of cherry scent mixed in.
However, the list of ingredients is long, and Frank doesn’t recognize a single one, except: ‘Drumcoffee beans’.
I have my doubts about that name… Safer to skip this one…
It was starting to look hopeless, there was nothing even close to normal being served here, which in hindsight should have been what he expected.
Should he return empty-handed?
He shouldn’t keep Amethyst waiting, no doubt she was probably already back at their bench.
Or perhaps, he was just being too uptight, this is a party after all. It’s not like any of the drinks can really be life-threatening…
Right?
However, the next drink’s label doesn’t exactly waive his suspicions.
“Salty Citrus-Splosion – Not as lethal as it sounds!” A lemon-shaped bottle, with a glass ball cork.
Frank picks up a small sample glass that has it already poured inside, it looks… like juice and smells refreshingly of citrus.
Finally...
The first one with any provable hint of fruit in it…
Frank takes a deep breath.
Alright, I trust you label, let’s try this.
Please, finally just be a normal, casual juice?
Frank downs the shot glass-sized sample and gulps it all down.
A faintness of salt, with a pleasant orange taste arrives at first but suddenly the sourness of pure lemon juice attacks him at full force with blood orange’s bitterness as a backup.
Franks’ face feels like it might physically collapse into itself from the taste.
It's like he has completely lost control over his facial muscles, a disgusted grimace held his mouth open, hanging his tongue slightly out.
“Gah!”
In a panic for relief, he reads the next label from a bottle shaped and colored like a rainbow, the cork at the middle of the bend.
“Marshmallow-rainbow mania – see in color: every single one of them.”
That’s… perfect!
He downs a sizeable glass of it, its texture is thick like custard, but it gets the job done, a perfect counter for the Splosion.
A taste so sickly sweet, that he feels an ache in his front teeth. A single rainbow appears and swoops across his vision, making him dizzy and teeter backward.
If I ever needed a reminder to stay away from all party drinks…
Couldn’t they have made a section for just normal juice or something, or at least served Cas-juices in a separate marked table from Exo-drinks…
***
Alcohol and other drugs have been illegal for as long as anyone remembers, as they were banned by the original founding texts.
A law that has held quite well, since a culture around alcohol was never allowed to form.
However, a recent cultural development around imitating this discovered “bar behavior”, spoken of in ancient digital and physical scriptures, has given rise to the concept of exotic concoctions, aka: “Exo-drinks.”
These beverages use other non-addictive but peculiar and strange combinations of chemicals and reactants discovered all over the Galaxy to produce wacky effects and incredible flavors.
They have an age restriction of 16, due to their erratic and chemical nature.
“Cas-juices” on the other hand, are the child-safe variant, meant for casual consumption. These normal variants, have actual limitations and regulations around them, to keep them suitable for all ages. Notable restrictions are for example: limiting the effects of physical changes to last at most an hour and banning all vision-enhancing or impairing effects. Completely effectless juices are sometimes categorized in this, but can also just exist as that, juice, and nothing more.
***
As Frank shakes his head to clear away the colors from his mind, laughter surprises him from behind, a trio of women approach, all wearing fabulous sparkling evening dresses of… questionable exposure.
Fanny, Bridget and Stacy [https://i.imgur.com/80GfXMe.png]
“Need some help?” The girl in the sparkling blue dress asks.
“Pioneer is famous for his lavish parties, so choosing a drink can be an insurmountable challenge for a newbie.” The one donning matte-black fabric comments.
“Please, let us assist.” The red dress girl insists politely with a smirk, her dress sparkling too, competing with the blue one's glamour.
All of the girl’s dresses expose their shoulders and back, their outfits held up by straps around the neck at the front or by pure rigidity of fabric.
Elaborate decorations of flowery ornaments on their hair, glittering bracelets, and stunning jewelry give them all a rather wealthy air.
One by one, they surround Frank with various states of smiles.
“Uh, sure… I’m looking for something refreshing, not too sweet for myself, and something fruity and definitely sweet for Amethyst.”
Frank is rather taken aback by their sudden appearance and of their close proximity.
“I think we know where to find something like that.” The green-eyed blonde says and adjusts her blue dress’ chest area.
“For Amethyst?” The brunette scoffs and looks away, swiping some of her brown hair behind her ear.
“Couldn’t she even get her own drinks?” The black-haired lady rolls her eyes.
“Huh? You know the answer to that very well.” Frank says offended and crosses his arms.
“I must apologize on Stacy’s behalf, she doesn’t have any tact. Though, my sister, Bridget isn’t much better.” She grins and looks at the others. “By the way, I’m Fanny.”
Fanny, the blonde girl in the blue dress grabs Frank’s crossed arms and unties them, and instead of shaking his hand, she grabs and plasters herself onto his right arm tightly.
“Sister, please… not in front of him…” Bridget frowns and grabs Frank’s other arm, her unnatural red eyes sparkle, literally.
“Okay, this way.” From the back, Stacy grabs his shoulders and pushes him along.
“H-hey! Wait-” Frank is swept along with the trio and brought further along the table, where he is finally allowed to stop.
At least true to their words, a refreshing-looking light-blue drink and a sweet fruity one that has green and yellow stacked on top of each in the glass, reside there.
Fighting against the resistance of the women on his arms, he grabs two glasses, one of each drink.
They are like night and day, the light-blue one’s glass is frosted and cold, while the fruit one’s feels lightly warm.
”I bet you’ve missed this…” Fanny practically jumps further up his right arm, sinking it between her assets.
From the force, Frank loses his grip on the drink; the glass falls and spills onto the table. Some of it splashes onto the sleeve of his tuxedo.
“Oh, whoops!” She says, sounding insincere.
“What are you doing? Can you please let go?”
”Why would we do that? We’re helping you.” Bridget winks and does the same as her sister, just to his other arm.
Even though Frank is prepared for what's to come, she shakes him until the other drink falls too, and stains its surroundings.
“Oh no, how clumsy of me. Now you have to come with us, we need to get you cleaned up.”
Bridget whispers sensually and presses her body further against Frank's. “Amethyst doesn’t even have breasts, what do you even see in her?”
“Just a hard, cold armor and sharp blades. Even her ass is like a grindstone” From behind, Stacy hugs him tightly and her hips bump against Franks’ rump, as her arms coil around his neck.
“Or maybe you’re a masochist...? Either way, we can arrange that too…”
Fair maidens, a damsel on each arm, and then some, you would think it any guy’s dream.
After all, Frank was just a man too, there had certainly been times in his life when he would have been delighted by this development.
Situations, where he would have surrendered to these ladies, if not with glee, then with cautious optimism.
But those naïve times were long behind him.
Despite their beauty and allure being unmatched, things were getting seriously creepy. In this theoretically utopic moment, there was as much wrong, as there was right.
A foreboding sense of dread, gnawed inside, Frank’s palms and brow gather cold sweat like a leaf at the break of dawn.
”A handsome man like you… how could you settle for her?” Stacy caresses his neck from behind.
“You’ve still got your life to live, to experience.” Bridget leans forward and her hand grabs his shoulder, like she’d climb up it.
“You deserve more, all of us, because how could just one satisfy you?” Fanny’s hand slithers down his side, to his hips and she squeezes.
Stacy’s breath is hot to his ear, as she whispers: “Besides, she’s not even human…”
“S-stop! How can you say such things about her?”
Frank tries to struggle free, but they aren’t letting up. He’s practically grappled from behind, and chained from his arms, they hold him down, barely able to move.
At least his uncooperative attitude serves to halt their advance for now.
“Oh, please, it’s obvious,” Stacy says with a cold tone.
“Written all over your face.” Bridget pokes him on the cheek.
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“You can’t say no, you promised!” Fanny’s eyes look directly at Frank, pleading like a cute animal.
“H-huh?! I did not!” Frank meets her eyes, but she doesn't waver.
“So come on, come with us, and let's get your fine suit cleaned up.” Stacy tugs at his shirt collar.
“And who knows what could happen after...” Bridget plays with Frank’s long hair, curling it around her finger. “When we’re away from all these prying eyes.”
“No. Please, let go of me. I mean it.” Frank’s clear and decisive words take a moment to sink in.
“What? But she said-!” Fanny looks at Bridget, who returns the frightful gaze and responds to her sister: “T-this was supposed to be our chance!”
“She promised! And you- didn’t you agree-? Rrgh, but I want my ring!” Stacy roars and grips Frank’s shoulders hard, her nails hurt even through the suit.
“Who said what?” Frank tries to remain calm, to keep his voice unwavering and strong.
“Nobody!” They all announce and cling on tighter, Stacy’s head appears on his shoulder, and Bridget and Fanny hang onto his arms like monkeys and try to sweep him away with them.
“Surrender to us!” The sisters scream. “Embrace your desires!”
“Marry us all!” Stacy licks his neck, making his hair stand on end.
Cold sweat drips down Frank’s brow, and his Adam’s apple heaves a large motion.
He looks around, some people are watching but look away as he meets their eyes, though most appear to not be paying his condition any mind.
A sense of panic tries to take hold of his mind, but he manages to say with a wavering voice: “P-please, Ladies. A drink first, yes?”
“Alright,” Fanny says with a playful smirk.
“If you insist.” Bridget sighs, but a determined smile returns to her lips.
“I suppose I can wait that long…” Stacy’s tongue retreats from his neck and a burning cold phantom sense of violation is left behind.
The girls remain vigilant, Fanny and Bridget free his arms but hold tightly to his shoulders. Stacy continues to hug him from behind, he can still feel her breath on his neck.
He could shake them off by using force, perhaps, but in situations like these… that was not an option, it never was.
Calmly, with trembling hands, he assembles three champagne-like glasses onto the table.
“I know just what you’ll like.”
Frank offers each of them a drink, in a different way, as he pours them one after the other onto the girls.
“I-” Fanny gets a dose of a sticky sweet tropical mix “Prickly Pungent Pear” dumped on her hair.
“-Said-” Her sister gets a cold shoulder of “Space-Tundra’s breeze” poured all over her head, it sloshes like it has sleet in it.
“-No!” Finally, their friend Stacy gets a revoltingly bubbly, tar-like “Widow’s Secret Poison” for her black heart, straight to her face, tossed over Frank’s shoulder.
One after the other, the glasses are slammed onto the table, and Frank slips free of the girls who let go in shock from this affront to their pride.
“Iaaah!” Fanny screams, her hands trying to claw the honey-like concoction off of her head before it slides lower and permeates her hairdo completely.
It’s sticky like cheese, her fingers only stretch it around.
“Ha-haah-!” Bridget gasps and shivers from her cold shower, trying to warm up herself by rubbing her arms.
Her teeth clatter and knees buckle, the glass frosting up earlier wasn’t just special effects after all.
“F-fuck-! I hate you!” Stacy’s breath bubbles and she gurgles underneath the black ooze dripping past her mouth.
She tries to blindly swish at Frank with her nails, who already slipped free from underneath her arms, but as her eyes are full of the goo, she misses completely.
Adrenaline spurs Frank onward, to make a swift exit, but he must not run.
He slows down, into a walk, and keeps onto a neutral expression, not shirking from other’s gazes, nor making direct eye contact with anyone.
Many eye Frank dubiously, but some nod or look at him concerned as he passes.
Although he appreciates it, he can’t help but flinch and push away one consoling touch of a person who asks if he’s okay.
Others don’t seem as approving of his actions, but all part from his way, like he was dangerous.
A psychopath, a criminal.
Soon he manages to blend into the crowd, as he gets far enough from the scene.
Though mere distance didn’t stop his frantic heart from going into overdrive, especially, since he sensed, the worst was yet to come.
Those things they said…
I bet Luna has something to do with those girls’ ambush…
Amethyst, please… still be at our spot...
Frank hurries back to their bench, but she isn’t there. The only thing left is a plate, filled with crumbs.
She got back before me...
He looks around frantically for any sign of her.
Where is she? Where could she be?
He catches something entering the forest, from the edge of his vision.
Was that her bone crown?
It disappears before he can get a good look.
He looks around as he runs towards the forest, but doesn’t spot any of their Tyrchid students anymore, it had to be her!
Frank breaks into the forest and sees Amethyst and Luna walk further in, bathed in lanternlight.
Oh shit! Already?
I really shouldn’t have left Amethyst alone for even a second!
However, instead of immediately following them, Frank turns away, and quickly finds a nearby bush with familiar white flowers, next to a short tree.
The venue's lights permeate the area enough for him to see, as he reaches inside the cool leaves, into his hidden stash.
So it really came to this…
He takes out a silver-sheen laser rifle, his Intergalactic weaponry, made of metal, sturdy but light.
A short barrel when compared to the sizeable stock, and a medium-length scope at the top, it could do automatic fire as well, but with much less accuracy and more drain.
Its battery showed half charge. He straps it over his shoulder, from its leather band.
I still can’t believe I’m doing this…
But it has to be done, for Amethyst’s sake, I’m just making sure...
Frank follows after Amethyst and Luna, shadowing them, creeping in the underbrush, staying close to the ground, his knees bent.
His suit is rather unsuited for this, chafing and being rather stiff for any sort of crouching movement.
Navigating the woods in the outreaches of their abundant lantern light, was rather easy. It highlighted the edges of trees and silhouettes of bushes to allow for rather inconspicuous tailing.
Though he kept his distance, unable to make out what they said to each other, opting to try to make sense of his thoughts in the meantime.
The way Luna always watched Amethyst… it wasn’t the way, you look at somebody you love.
Her eyes were like that of a predator watching prey, concealed in a happy and cute demeanor.
Who would suspect her of anything?
Well, everyone who’d get a glimpse of her real personality, the spiteful interior.
Just like those girls… almost mini-Luna’s…
A cold and sinister shiver rattles his spine just thinking of it. Searing prickles like thorns run all over his arms, and a disgusting wet tongue still feels on his neck.
The rest of the horrifying, panic-inducing sensations return; his shoulders feel the nails of Stacy press upon them, as Fanny and Bridget’s hands and bodies brush against his shoulders and squeeze his hip.
Nausea tries to overtake him, and a sense of helplessness and disgust invade his mind.
Frank shakes his head and tries to push the memories away, no matter how terrible it had been, how powerless and used it made him feel, he couldn't dwell on it.
He had to focus.
On Amethyst, and on… Luna.
Whenever Frank had seen Luna without the presence of Amethyst, she always seemed cold and calculating.
Shrewd and mocking, all features he could find from Rocco too, whenever he could keep his demeanor in check, that is.
These traits were very much present in Ray, as well. If Frank had picked up on it at the time; on his strange behavior, and mannerisms, maybe he could have realized something was wrong.
Though he wasn’t always like it, but building up to that day, the signs were definitely there.
Even after all this time, Frank still had no idea why Ray had swindled their money, for what purpose, and what motive.
And year by year, it seemed more like he’d never get an answer, it was like the Universe had swallowed him up.
After that, the lesson was well learned, Rocco’s true colors were known to him, well before his escape with Amethyst, even if he was a bit surprised by just how ruthless he turned out to be.
And now… it’s like history was repeating itself for the third time again.
Everything about Luna nagged him, screamed bad news. Whenever she spoke, it was like needles scratching on his skin, leaving long, endless, white marks.
She was dishonest even with the simplest of truths, a personality of such bipolarity and deceit, that he questioned how she could even exist.
And most of all, why here?
It didn’t make sense until you started to think what her motives could be...
After Amethyst and Luna’s fishing trip happened without incident, even if it was cut suspiciously short, he was ready to lay down his guard. It was the last day, soon they’d be rid of her.
But then, Grent told him of Luna’s surprise Amethyst had accidentally mentioned to him. Immediately, his instincts went into overdrive.
A secret just for them, on the last day, right after the celebration, when nobody would have a reason to bother or seek them out anymore?
That’s not a coincidence.
He thinks of all the possibilities Luna could have in mind, sending shivers down his spine.
She really scared him, in a weird way.
Luna had never been violent, or straight-up aggressive, but her overall behavior set off more warnings than a head-on collision with an asteroid.
The rifle was just with him as insurance, you couldn’t really know with her. Having something to threaten or calm her could be useful.
Though his suspicions could be the products of jealousy, he admitted.
I’m not that delusional though… right?
The further along they went, the more increasingly embarrassed and guilty Frank felt for following them, Especially for feeling the need for a firearm…
But, that was Luna’s weapon, she wanted to be underestimated.
Besides… It’s just an insurance…
Nothing will even happen…
So, they won’t ever know I was here, watching them.
What does it matter, if I’ve got a gun with me?
I’m not paranoid…
Soon, they stop at a clearing, Frank creeps ever closer, just a few bushes away from the bright light, and kneels behind them.
They stand right next to each other and take a picture together.
Innocent enough so far...
What if I just came to spy on them, when it's just some harmless outing…?
Luna’s right onto Amethyst and her hands wander to her neck and thigh.
Amethyst looks away from her, Frank can see her expression of embarrassment soon change to a frown.
Luna’s both hands cradle Amethyst’s neck and she starts to try to bring their faces together.
W-wait, what are you doing!?
Amethyst’s head tries to escape Luna’s pursed lips and her hands flail confused, but suddenly, Amethyst teeters backward with unsure footing, and Luna backs off.
Luna’s face takes on a crazed expression and she speaks something, Frank can hear her, but not make out the words.
Then Amethyst falls backward, but before she hits the ground, Luna catches her from the back, struggling to hold her up.
The white flower drops from Amethyst’s hair, fluttering to the ground.
What just happened!?
Frank grips the stock of the rifle hard.
Luna tries to drag him towards a nearby bush, but Amethyst is heavy, she seems to struggle to even keep her up.
She instead reaches out awkwardly and kicks at the bush. A hover plate floats out of it and nearer her.
She plants Amethyst down on the platform, grabs her legs, and pushes her on it, then she dusts her hands off like a job well done and takes out her communicator from the satchel.
What did she do to Amethyst?!
Amethyst just lays there… like she was… lifeless, just like back then.
She wouldn't really, kill her, would she?
Frank’s head is a mess of emotions: confusion, panic, and anger.
What should he do now? Should he have already done something? How could she do this to Amethyst?
Trying to calm down his speculative mind, Frank slowly and silently inches closer in the gloom of the forest to get a better look at Amethyst.
His creeping is interrupted by Luna talking on the phone.
“Luna, requesting extraction.”
Extraction… Is she really?
Frank keeps sneaking toward Amethyst, just a few bushes away.
“Can you send a small shuttle to my coordinates? I told you to have one on standby- Yes, yes. I have her, and some other bonuses too.”
No doubt about it…
She must be working for Intergalactic.
There is no other explanation, no other conclusion to draw anymore.
Frank stops his advance toward Amethyst and grits his teeth, aiming his rifle at the back of Luna’s head, her long black locks in the middle of the crosshair of his magnifying scope.
With trembling hands, a finger lays on the trigger.
This time, it’s different.
Amethyst won’t have to see this, I… I don’t have to hold back.
This is who I am.
“No, not him, other kinds of bonuses. A sort of insurance if you will, one must always make extra preparations after all.
Oh, and some things I discovered on this planet might help with the research too.”
No, contain yourself, don’t aim for the head.
I need to know what she did to her…
And why…
Frank’s aim shifts to the back of Luna’s sparkling violet dress, on the right side of her back.
A good hit to the right, to really hurt her, graze her side real good…
Maybe to shatter her hip...
“Gotta say, this was easier than I thought- yes, I’ll wait.”
No need to hesitate now, it’s what she deserves.
Frank glances at Amethyst’s body limp body strewn on the hoverplate.
I’m sorry, but Luna was never your friend.
You’ll… understand. Won’t you?
Luna ends her call and puts the communicator back in the satchel she carried.
A deep breath in, a calm breath out.
Frank braces himself, curling his shaky finger on the trigger.
A voice, hostile, and demanding stirs in his brain.
His inner voice, a demon of desires and conscience, rears its head.
Come on, why aren’t you shooting?
Just pull the trigger.
It’s that easy, don’t you see what she’s done?
She deserves to die.
So, go ahead, nothing wrong with that.
Frank’s aim climbs higher towards her head.
Kill her.
No, no, no!
No killing!
Frank shakes her head firmly, trying to get his racing intrusive thoughts under control, and manages to bring the aim down again.
Luna’s hand is still in her satchel, she digs through it, searching for something.
It’s okay, all it takes is just a single shot.
Do you care for Amethyst so little?
Are you going to let Luna get away with this?
I…
Frank’s hands tremble like never before.
These feelings, deep dangerous burning in the back of his mind loom and sear through his brain.
Pull the trigger.
If you don’t, you put your friends in prison for no reason!
Caused the deaths of Jack and Jill and so many others!
Even the deaths of the Tyrchids before are your fault!
You’re going to lose your moment, lose Amethyst if you don’t shoot now!
Then it’ll all be in vain!
Do it!
I should… shoot…
Kill her.
Shouldn’t I?
Don’t you want to be a hero?
This is finally your chance to succeed in doing something good!
Frank shakes his head, and the numerous smiles of Amethyst fill his mind.
What would she do… if she was in my position?
Their journey together, the ups and downs, the tragedy and sadness they have shared floods back.
The happiness and intimate moments, the support and solace they had found in each other reinforce his will.
Like an invisible force, a wordless contract always kept them together and made them always have each other’s back.
This time would be no different.
I don’t think Amethyst would kill her.
If I do shoot… murder Luna…
It’s a one-way, lonely road…
There will be no return.
No way back.
How can I face Amethyst ever again, if I kill her friend?
A friend!?
She’s an Intergalactic agent!
Don’t you want to do the right thing?
Kill her!
…
No.
Have you been boasting, and lying all this time...?
That you’ll ‘have her back’?
How she won’t become another victim?
Now she needs your help, more than ever, and you choose inaction?
To do NOTHING?!
I…
My best intentions may not have always manifested as I wanted to…
Or even on many occasions…
But…
This is wrong.
There has to be another way, there’s always is.
I can’t just murder somebody!
She may be working for intergalactic, but… so did I.
So did Grent.
She’s a person too…
Even if it’s Luna, I don’t want her dead, not really.
I choose not to.
Frank aims his weapon down to the ground and sighs.
But…
She is still dangerous.
I have to stop her.
But how?
She looks unarmed… although… she probably still carries a weapon…
Could I win if it came to a struggle, can I even sneak close enough to try?
Would she survive a shot to the leg or bleed out?
What felt like ages in Frank’s head, was a short while, in which Luna managed to find what she was looking for.
She takes out a purple bone from her satchel and grips it like a conductor. She starts throwing the bone in the air with a flourish, spinning it fast.
As it falls, she deftly catches it again.
You stole that from me?
With a smug grin on her lips, she kills time by playing around with Amethyst’s broken wing bone, throwing and catching it again and again, while eroding a circle of boredom on the ground.
The about 20cm long, hollow, purple bone makes slight whistling sounds, as it hurtles through the air.
You have no right to have that, to even have a part of her.
Frank brandishes the laser rifle in his grip and aims it at Luna again.
However, as he does, Luna glances in his direction, like noticing something from the corner of her eye. Suddenly she looks right at him, her smile fading.
Shit! Did she see a reflection from the rifle’s scope?
Well, even so…
“Luna, hands up!”
Frank remains in shooting position, his right leg forward, and left knee against the ground, a bit more than half of his body covered by the bush.
“Oh no! You caught me!”
She starts to raise her arms up, but one of her slowly rising hands swipes against her necklace, and a small gleam happens at one of the gemstones.
Something tiny hits Frank in the neck. It stings only momentarily, and his vision starts sailing back and forth.
Luna’s smile returns to her painted lips.
”Frank, Frank, Frank… You thought yourself smart, outing me like this? Would have been more wise to stay out of my business.”
Luna taunts him and shakes Amethyst’s bone condescendingly towards him.
“But, thanks to you, I still caught my bonus, he will be so very pleased.”
“What… did you do?” Frank speaks with muddled words, unsure if he really spoke out loud at all. His lips feel like jelly; sticky, and numb.
“After I went through all that trouble of arranging you a heavenly night out, you just had to go and break their hearts. Did you stop for a second to consider their feelings?”
Luna shakes her head and clicks her tongue. “Oh well, works out better this way, I suppose. Now be a good pest and have a lie-down...”
Frank ignores the sting and concentrates the shreds of his drifting mind, on the blur of a figure.
Keeping both hands firmly on his weapon, knuckles going white, if he loosened his grip even slightly, he was sure he would drop it.
What will she do to Amethyst?
Or… to me?
Frank tries to steady his hands, steady his body, but his vision is like an afterimage, his body swaying like in turbulent space.
His trembling, shaking pinkie finds the switch, toggling the weapon to full auto mode.
Fine, so be it.
Squeezing the trigger, as hard as his numb fingers can, a flurry of blurry beams fly out, whizzing all over the place.
His vision spins around and around, the laser’s lines look as long as the horizon, his sense of time stretching, and his hearing echoes like underwater.
The rifle drops from Frank’s hands, stopping its rampage, as he slumps onto his side, onto the cool night grass.
From his chest pocket, the white flower fell and floated down after him, sailing back and forth in the air.
Perpetually falling and landing next to him, shedding a long sharp petal of white and red.