Chapter Text
Coal Hill Academy: The Barbara Wright Building
Wednesday, 12th October 2016
Kevin Williams had only come back for a costume. But now, he runs. He runs fast, shattering the silence of the corridors as he goes. His mind is buzzing with thoughts and emotions, but he doesn't have the luxury of time to stop and process them all. He does get the time to process that yes - he's being chased. And that yes - he'd been told to run. As he turns a corner, he looks behind himself briefly but to no avail. He continues on, shoving a door open frantically as he pursues his goal.
Because she'd told him where to run too. He didn't know why, but at this moment, he could hardly argue it...
He'd opened the Drama storeroom. And it had rushed out. Like some sort of smoke or fire. He'd thought the building was on fire. But fires don't have swords. And nor do they shout. He'd thrown himself back, away from the storeroom and towards the stairs of the stage... and then picked himself up halfway across the Gym Hall. Backing up, his belongings no longer a present thought, he'd become overtaken by fear. Utter confusion and shock. Then she'd grabbed his hand. He'd turned to look. "My class. Run."
She ran. And he followed straight after her, caught up in the unfolding madness...
Sprinting through another corridor, Kevin looks behind himself and he can see it now. His shadow in the late night light stretching far behind himself. And the thing... the not-fire... at the end of it, relentlessly pursing him. But he's almost where he needs to be. He turns another corner and throws himself towards Room B03. Once he's through the door, his legs slow and his head begins to fire up to speed.
It was just after 7pm when he'd realised, and made his apologies to Derek.
"I know, Derek, but listen... I really have to go get it. It's just... Look, I'll see you tomorrow and I'll explain. After school, we can hang out. Go down the Pig & Lettuce. I promise."
"...I guess so. Tomorrow, then."
"Tomorrow."
"See you, Kev."
"You bet."
It just hadn't occurred to him until then, sitting in Derek's that he never got it back at the end of last term. Even though he really should have. Because it was obvious. And off he'd gone, away from the front of Derek's house and back towards Coal Hill.
Kevin feels a hand on his arm, and then he stumbles sideways as it pulls him away from the door. It's her, sure enough. Miss Quill. On instinct, he huddles into one of the corners of the classroom, remaining quiet. There's no words he'd dare give, and no questions worth breaking the silence for. Not when the not-fire thing was nearby. And he knows it has to be nearby. He'd bolted round the corner and into the room fast enough, but he thinks - would it really stop chasing him so easily?
Looking in her eyes, he sees fear reflected back. Perhaps it's his own, or she is just as scared as he is. His brain doesn't linger on the thought, because out of the corner of his vision - huddled beside the window with her - he sees flickers of smoke at the bottom of the classroom door. Panic rushes over him. He stands, and throws himself against the window... but to no avail. It's too strong, and he bounces back, almost falling off.
A low growl comes from the door. It was a terrible mistake, he realises, as the smoke filters under the door. The not-fire thing begins to slip into the room. All the questions and no answers... but he felt one certainty. This thing was going to kill him and the teacher. This was how he was going to die.
It had been on his thoughts the whole way, rushing back to the school. The costume that he'd left last year. It was a cheap and simple set of threads for their modernised version of 'Romeo & Juliet'. It had been clear in his mind for long enough in the rehearsals, and he'd be able to put aside enough money for it. A simple airforce blue suit. What else would a Mercutio wear to the Capulets' party?
Sneaking in through the side door next to the IT classes that didn't lock was easy enough, and the alarms were unreliable at best since they rebuilt the school. It would've just taken all of ten minutes. Get in, get the storeroom key from the reception, and go quietly round to the Gym Hall... but then the reception door had been locked. So he had been forced to hunt through the janitor's office for a spare. Carefully, of course. All in all, it'd become more like half an hour.
And now, it looked like it'd become the rest of his life.
Which is what makes the gun he feels pushed into his hand all the more surprising.
"Take it.", billows Miss Quill.
A gun. A bloody gun. His mind is reeling too much, and it's not helped when the smoke rises up in a twisting, turning column. Growling, it shifts and begins to solidify before him. Kevin stares at the figure. It's clearer than it was before. Not just a thing, but a figure. Not just some unspeakable demon, but a humanoid shape. Shards of fire blister out of its wrists, and arc upwards. They curve into sword-like shapes, and all at once, the figure is brandishing them. He's never used a gun before, but he raises it without any further hesitation. Because, despite the madness unfolding, part of him hopes. Part of him believes. He's going to survive. They're going to survive whatever this is.
Anyone else would've just bought something else. But he wouldn't. Not for this. Mercutio's suit. A visor for a visor... but he'd take a suit for a suitor. It taken a long time to convince Derek to audition. In the end - teacher's rule had made Derek a Gregory. But Derek had been kind enough to help him play his scenes. Outside rehearsals, on their own, in his room - their own private world. That was what had kept him determined to get into the storeroom.
It was a bold risk, but one he wanted to take. Because he'd never forgotten when Derek would take one side of the room... enter from stage-right, crossing past his bed, and deliver the lines of Romeo. "What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?"
His memory still cherished the moment he said lover in response. And the "Why the devil came you between us?" uttered whilst cradled in his arms, during their final private practice. But most of all, it had been that little second on show night. The brief second where Derek had walked up to him in the wings, dressed in that suit, ready for the party... and laid a quick kiss on his cheek. No words said. A little kiss on one night. In that suit. That was why he came back.
And why he had to survive. Because he had to know. He'd been frightened of asking, but it had to end. The suit tonight, and tomorrow... the question. Friendship or love? To ask Derek Handcock - sweetest kindest lad with the most unbelievably soft-spoken voice - to prom. It pushes him on in this chaotic indecipherable situation. Steadies the gun in his hand. He stares down the hellish face of the shadowy burning figure, as it bears its teeth and screeches.
He hears Miss Quill behind him: "You have to shoot it! I can't use the gun!"
Part of him wants to question the gun. (Are teachers allowed to be armed?) Part of him wants to question why she can't. (Is she pregnant?) Part of him wants to question everything in his life. But Derek and the prom remains constant.
"Shoot it! Shoot it now!"
It had never crossed his lips but always been on his mind. For a whole year. And he'd felt it when the new term started in his heart and in his soul. He loved Derek so much.
And he just had to know. Had to ask. That was what tomorrow was for. A simple ask - their party. Their prom night. No more visor for a visor. Otherwise, love would be blind. And if love be blind, it cannot hit the mark.
The figure raises its swords. No time more to think. The gun, he perfectly aims. And in that moment, he's aware of something slipping round his wrist but he pays it little notice. The hope of love waits in tomorrow, and he must survive for that. For Derek.
Kevin Williams pulls the trigger.
He does not get time to register the flash of blue, and nor does the figure, as they are both engulfed. But his body feels enough pain that he screams without knowing...
The fiery figure splatters into smoke and soot. Every bit of it is torn apart in an instant, ashen, and it burns into the floor. Kevin does not see this. The scream cuts off, for there is no Kevin left to scream. He also is torn apart in the same instant. Every little infinitesimal piece of him pulls apart and is scattered violently outwards. Beyond the room. Into the stars. What had been Kevin Williams in one moment became random loose atoms across the cosmos.
The gun reappears on the floor of the classroom in a flicker of blue, and slowly, the only remaining person in the room walks over to it. She picks it up in one swift motion, and carries off to her desk, slipping it into a handbag that sits atop a mountain of folders.
She glances at the scorch mark on the floor for a moment, and then kneels, whispering to herself; "Camuh Belpa Terso. Not a noble warrior, but a noble sacrifice. Even for a human."
Part of her ponders the family of the boy, but another part pushes it away. She knows that a warrior cannot lament too much upon the losses of conflict. The woman - known to the planet she currently stood upon as Miss Quill - straightens herself up, takes her bag, and swiftly leaves the classroom.
As she goes, she thinks; War is coming, and more will die. But I will survive.