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Part 2: Orion Chapter 13

Part 2: Orion

Chapter Thirteen

Tracy screamed until she felt herself going hoarse. The towering and infinite being now lumbers over her in her bathroom, and not in her worst nightmares.

The green-gray monster picked her up by the neck and shoved her up against the mirror, which cracked against her back; she winced as several shards of glass penetrated the flesh. The beast kept her suspended – staring into her wet eyes.

Oddly enough, he placed her back onto the floor after a moment of silence. What he saw in her eyes was beyond even Tracy herself. Perhaps it was the look of cold fear that had convinced him. When he placed her on the floor, he did not release his iron grip.

As she descended to the floor, he didn’t see her reach behind her and picked up one of the shards of glass that had fallen into the sink.

Tracy wasted no time and swung – with all her might – at the creature. The sharp piece of glass cut through his left bicep. He reacted by reaching out for her weapon, but grabbed hold of her wrist instead.

They struggled for seconds, which felt like hours, and the beast finally gave in and took a step back and Tracy fell forward.

She felt the hatred build up in her soul as she stared at the creature – which was now crouching on the floor in a corner by the closet.

She lifted the shard up in front of her face and the beast easily detected the fire behind her eyes.

A few seconds later, Tracy felt warm, wet drops landing on her right foot and dared to look down, and then over at her bloody open wrist.

The Dreamkiller saw that the fire had died and a new look of fear had taken over in her weak soul. A low, obscene chuckle came from the beast and it rose to its talon feet. “That’s more like it,” it grunted.

Tracy opened her mouth and let a loud screech escape, the beast nodded.

The screech abruptly awoke Herb and Leslie, waking Leslie from a dream that was reoccurring more frequently as the nights progressed.

Both Tracy and the beast noticed the light from her mother’s room turn on and she turned to look at the Dreamkiller with a weak smile. She felt like saying “I told you so,” but held it back.

He smiled in return, which took Tracy by surprise. “Don’t worry. I’ll be home before dinner,” it grunted.

At that, Leslie and Herb burst into the bathroom. Leslie screamed at what she saw – her daughter standing alone in the bathroom, with a bloody piece of broken mirror in her hand, and a slit wrist.

Herb’s only reaction was a sigh. Doesn’t surprise me a bit, he thought to himself as Leslie ran to her daughter.

“Don’t just stand there. Get a fucking towel or something!” she screamed at Herb, who reluctantly left the room to get some towels.

Tracy looked at her mother with a shocked expression plastered on her wet face. “Is he...gone?” she asked quietly.

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Leslie thought that she meant Connor. “Yes. He’s gone. Forever,” she quickly whispered in her daughter’s ear as they embraced.

Tracy formed a triumphant, yet tired, smile on her face.

Herb ran back into the bathroom and helped Leslie wrap a white towel around Tracy’s open wrist.

They had arrived at the Emergency Room at the local hospital and by the time they had arrived, Tracy, weak, had reddened three perfectly white towels. Soon the police arrived with their questions.

“Did she have any reason to make the attempt?” asked one of three officers they met in the Waiting Room.

Leslie had been in tears some time before they arrived, and now, her eyes resembled a great likeness of Niagara Falls. “No. None that I…could detect, anyway,” she managed to have gotten out from behind her sniffling.

Herb placed his arm around her shoulder as he tried his damnedest to keep her calm.

“Did she have any relatives or friends that had committed suicide?” came the officer’s next question.

Leslie opened her mouth to tell the story of her friend, Connor, but Herb cut her off before she could speak. “No, she didn’t,” he lied and Leslie looked up at him with an icy glare.

A figure at the doorway briefly changed the topic of conversation.

“Is Tracy all right,” asked Rick as he approached Leslie with a worried expression on his face.

“I…yes.” Leslie replied, and then, “Who are you?” she asked.

One of the officers glanced down at her watch then up at Rick. “A very good question. And coming here at three in the morning, too.”

“I’m Rick Hopman – one of Tracy’s friends who helped her out during her friend’s death,” he explained.

“How, exactly, did he die?” came the next question.

Already, Herb had turned red in embarrassment. Shit, he whispered under his breath.

“He committed suicide.” Rick answered, then added, “Or, that’s what the diagnosis was,” he concluded and the officer turned to face Herb with a disappointed expression on her young face.

“I thought you said that she had no friends that committed suicide?” she commented with sarcasm.

“Well,” Herb began.

“Mr. Jordan, you could go to jail for this,” explained the officer.

“For what?” asked Herb.

“For holding back vital information,” answered the officer.

“But,” searching for an explanation, “I just forgot. That’s all. And besides, I didn’t think it was all that important. I mean, she turned the kid down.” Herb tried to bullshit his way out of getting arrested.

“That’s just it. You weren’t thinking at all,” replied the officer. “But, I’ll let it go this time. Don’t let this happen again, or I’ll arrest you without thinking, myself,” she concluded and Herb let out a sigh of relief through his nostrils.

Then came the series of questions concerning Connor. Rick had deliberately gone around the truth about Connor, Tracy, and the Dreamkiller, who was tormenting her and had killed Connor and Dave. He failed, though, to keep hidden the fact that she had fallen in love with Connor.

He told the officer what was written in the newspapers and on the news broadcasts. “Connor was in love with Tracy. And when he asked her out, she turned him down,” he began.

“But, you said that Tracy is…was…in love with Connor,” a statement, not a question, came from the officer.

“Yeah. See, after he killed himself because of depression, she found her true feelings for him.” Rick explained as the officer took notes.

Later that morning, Rick learned that Tracy was to remain in the hospital for a couple of days for observation. When the doctor had given the okay for Tracy to receive visitors, Rick was eager to see her.

“Rick, he’s back,” she announced before he even closed the door behind him.

Rick walked up to the girl and placed his hand on her injured one. “He never died, Trace. There’s more to this story than we know,” he began and sat down in a chair next to her bed, still holding her hand.

“Last night, when I had to fight in Rome, my opponent was hailing a hooded being named Orion. It is my belief that this Orion is pulling the strings here. There’s a lot more we need to find out before waging our next battle,” he explained.

Tracy nodded, and then thought of something. “Hey, how’d you know I was here anyway?”

“After I woke up, I had to see if you were okay. I called and when I didn’t get an answer, I just had this weird feeling you were hurt.” Rick smiled and squeezed her hand affectionately.