GARGOYLE
Part I: The Inception

Chapter 2

Hannah’s sights locked on the man at the end of the tunnel, on the gun pointed at them and the red glare of the lights above that reflected off its barrel. She instinctively tensed. Who is that!? What’s he doing!? What’s he after!? Hannah thought she knew, and she was afraid.

Then she heard the echoing blast of gunfire, and she yelped in panic as the shot impacted the bike’s front wheel. It blew out, exploding into shreds of hot rubber in an instant.

We’re going to die! Hannah’s mind screamed.

There was little time for any other ideas to settle in Hannah’s mind before Mathys took control. She felt him squeeze her hands as he suddenly brought their arms down and wrapped her in a protective embrace. She noticed the machine tilting awkwardly toward the wall of the tunnel. Mathys leaned back, pulling her with him, and when the metal workings of the bike shot sparks and squealed as it slid against the pavement he yanked her from her seat. The two of them rolled away in a chaotic jumble of fear and noise as the bike crashed into the concrete wall and splintered into a heap of smoky spare parts.

Hannah breathed in huffs, feeling Mathys’ chest shake with every labored cough as he held her close on the road. She had to mentally check herself into control again. They were ok, they were alive, Mathys knew what he was doing… Right? She quickly sat up and saw Mathys spluttering in a puddle of his own blood, the scarlet substance dripping from his lips.

She gaped in horror, her eyes darting from her wounded companion to the man at the end of the tunnel, and her heart leapt in her ribcage when she saw the mysterious stranger was approaching.

“Oh God,” she uttered, terrified.

Mathys gently tugged on her sleeve as he sat up beside her. “Hannah, you ok?”

“He shot at us!”

“I know. Are you ok?”

Hannah gawked as Mathys coughed, blood leaking through his fingers as he tried to cover his mouth. “Um, yes, I think so.” She patted herself down, feeling nothing more serious than sore bruising on her legs. But she could see no injuries on Mathys; he was worse because the stress aggravated his already weak condition. “But you’re not, you idiot.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a poor attempt at a grin.  

Hannah could not stay angry with him; his stupid stunt had probably saved both of their lives.

Peering past her at their attacker, Mathys whispered, “Don’t be afraid.”

Hannah, shaking, stared at the man as he neared. “Ok…”

The man dropped his aim with a smirk and stopped a mere few feet away. His uniform of black leather covered every inch of him from the neck down and bore the letters J S, printed white on a small patch on his chest. His short hair matched the deep burgundy of his slanted and laughing eyes, which had the milky soft appearance of crushed velvet. Though his handsome features seemed familiar, Hannah could not remember seeing anyone like him before.

The two of them looked up at this impressive stranger as he casually waved his gun at Hannah. “This is your secret weapon?”

“Who are you?” Hannah demanded. Even with the quiver in her voice she sounded braver than she felt. Mathys tugged on her sleeve to quiet her, but Hannah pulled away and insisted. “Who are you?”

The man seemed to have hardly noticed Hannah. His stare was fixated on the pool of Mathys’ blood surrounding them on the road. “The key’s always been the blood, right? Not worried about Turning her?”

Mathys remained silent, looking somber.

Hannah started to rise, but the young man pointed his gun to her. “Careful girlie,” the stranger coolly warned as Hannah let out a tiny gasp and sat back down.

“Quit screwing around,” Mathys said suddenly, and the man’s face fell as Mathys pulled himself to his feet. He clutched his stomach, slightly hunched over in his pain. “Just do what you need to do.”

Hannah, still trembling on the floor, asked quietly, “Do what?”

Mathys shared a small knowing look with the stranger, who slowly raised his gun and pressed it to Mathys’ heart.

“Mathys?!”

“Hannah,” Mathys said, offering her a tender smile. “You remember your mission. You do what you need to do, too.”

He held out his hand, and Hannah, scared and confused, took it. His hand was shaking almost as much as hers was. “You’ll be fine,” he told her.

The man looked Mathys up and down, tonguing his cheek as though searching for his next words. “…Should I say goodbye to him for you?” he asked finally.

Mathys hesitated, wincing with every rise and fall of his chest. “Tell him…” He sighed. “Tell him he’s a damned fool.”

With a nod the man cocked his handgun, steadied his aim, and pulled the trigger.

The shot, louder than anything Hannah had ever heard before, burst and ripped through Mathys’ chest. His grip on her hand tightened, his nails digging into her palms, and Mathys crumpled to the floor with a cry of agony.

Hannah discovered she couldn’t move, and her breath caught in her chest as Mathys panted and cursed with blood on his fingers and fluttering in his eyelids. She was unable to make sense of what was happening, or of how Mathys did not appear to be too upset by it all.

“I’m sorry.” Their attacker lowered his gun with a sigh. “But you’re a damned fool, too.”

Mathys’ body stiffened with pain and he hissed, “Shut up.”

The man lingered a few seconds, casting a long hopeful look at the two of them. Finally he turned away, and said, “Good luck, girlie.” And he left her there in the tunnel.

She didn’t even notice him leave. The sight of her beloved friend then, hurt in a mess of his own blood, captured all of her attention. This morning was proving too much for Hannah. She was well aware of how fast she was slipping into panicked hysteria, but the longer she stared at Mathys, the less she cared about her sanity. “M-Mathys? What just happened?”

“Hush,” he said with a little gasp.

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t be.”

“You’re dying.”

Mathys pulled her hand to his chest and held it in his two. She could feel the bullet-torn hole in his clothes, knew that if she reached just a little she could touch the wound that was killing him. She dared not. Instead her blue eyes rose to his toasted auburn ones. In his gaze she saw a strange happiness. It unnerved her, and she began to openly sob.

“Don’t cry.”

“I c-can’t help it!” she cried desperately. “I’m scared! Aren’t y-you?”

“Nope.” Mathys said simply. “Cause I trust you, like you’ve trusted me ‘til now, and I know you’re going to take care of everything.” He closed his eyes and laid his head down on the pavement, his chestnut hair matting in the ever-growing pool of blood.

Hannah shook her head. “W-what does that mean, ‘take care of everything’? What are you t-talking about?”

“Do you still trust me?” he asked easily.

Hannah gulped, forcing herself to settle back into composure. She could always trust him to know what to do. And she would obey whatever instructions he left her. She would take care of everything, if that’s what he wanted. “…Yes.”

Mathys grinned sleepily, a chuckle escaping his blood-smeared lips. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” Hannah said quietly.

“I love you too...”

The red glow of the electric lights faded as the morning sun poured into the tunnel, golden tint spilling over the two of them. Mathys heaved a relieved sigh, as though the sun’s touch warmed his entire body. He lifted Hannah’s hand to his mouth, softly kissing her fingers, and breathed, “I have new orders for you…”