n My Time Of Dying
Taylor desperately banged her fists against the doors of the locker, not even thinking straight. Just blindly hoping that, somehow, she could get out of this place. This stinky, dark hell hole. She couldn't see anything at all in this absolute darkness, and the waste that had been put in here that she had only been able to catch a quick glimpse of seemed to cling into her, to tug her down, to drag her down into the darkness.
"Let me out!" she screamed, her voice hoarse because of the repetition.
Her frantic breathing, her quiet chocking sobs and herself banging at the door. All was drowned out by laughter. Cold laughter. It almost made her heartbeat disappear, and the terror that had been filled her only spiked due to her certainty. Sophia wasn't going to let her out. Nobody would be coming to help her. They wanted this. The locker was also meant to be her grave. Because she was an eyesore to them. Because, because… whatever.
The important part was that she was already as good as dead.
She caught a glimpse of something wondrous, out of this world, but it was gone just as quickly as it came. Fleeting like a dream. The next instant, her vision expanded. No, rather, it was her consciousness that expanded. It was almost like her soul had been ripped out of her body. Then…
She was seeing again, feeling. Not the darkness and filth. She wasn't even constrained. She was… out of that locker and... her body, it was strange. Everything was strange. It took her only a moment to realize the truth, despite herself. She was out, yes. But not really. She was seeing through Sophia's Hess eyes. She was inside of her.
There was no banging. No anything. Without a guiding consciousness, her real body had surely shut down. But was it just that? She took a deep breath. Nobody seemed to notice. There was no many people to notice, even. There was just Emma, Madison and… herself. The rest had left, like such a thing was not any of their business.
"She's… She's gone silent." Madison muttered, clearly afraid they had crossed the line. Taylor held back the urge to grab her by the throat and scream into her face that they had crossed the fucking line a long while ago, and hadn't even looked back. "You don't think she's has… she couldn't have… have… right?"
(get out get out)
A voice, banging uselessly against the cage, against her mind. Taylor grimaced, and pushed it away. Made it fade into the background, where she could scream all she wanted, but her voice wouldn't never reach her.
"Of course not." Emma drawled out, hate clear in her voice. "Is just that she's a victim, Madison. Nothing but that. Even this time, she has just accepted her place. Even with something like this, she can't muster the courage to be a survivor."
Taylor stepped forward. She had expected a bit of imbalance, of having to get used to her new body, but there was no trouble. Good. That was good.
"Sophia?" Emma tentatively asked. "What are you doing?"
Taylor unlocked the door of the locker, and opened it. She grabbed her falling body, and gently set it down on the ground.
"Why?" Emma asked. "We were supposed to tell the janitor in the second period, not let her out so easily."
"I'm not going to go as far as killing somebody." A odd expression crossed Emma's face. "Anyways, I've already seen all I need to see with this. Dragging it out would bore me."
She picked herself up. She was perhaps the only person in existence who meant that literally.
"Let's go."
"But..." Madison tried to protest.
"I'll just say that we were attracted by the smell, discovered her here, don't know who did it, yada yada." The words she couldn't never have uttered came easily to her mind. Sophia was on the surface, so she could do a passable job of impersonating her. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, Madison."
And she would say it. She wasn't lying about that. She control of Sophia's body, and that also meant she had the chance to turn the tables. End the bullying, ruin her like she had done to her. She just had to dig around, gather the necessary evidence. And then those three would owe up to their mistakes.
She would make sure of that.
Taylor carried her body to the infirmary, closely followed by a silent Emma and Madison, who seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack. She enjoyed that, but tried to not let it show on her face. The nurse pretty much jumped from her seat when they arrived. Good. At least, it seemed like somebody could at least pretend to give a shit about her.
"What happened?"
"We noticed a really bad smell in one of the lockers, in her locker and…" Taylor shrugged. She felt sick to her stomach. She had recollected herself, decided on what to do. But that didn't make it any easier. "She was inside. We don't know anything else. Her name is Taylor Hebert."
She set her body down on the hospital bed. The nurse looked a little pale, shocked. Like she was expecting to wake up any second now. No wonder. Her body was covered in the waste which had been put in the locker. She herself could barely look at it. But it didn't really matter. Since she had picked her body up, her hands were stained in that very same waste. It made her skin crawl. It was a wonder she was managing to stay conscious.
"Go and tell… whoever is in the concierge to call her parents." the nurse said.
"We will." Taylor said, and went away. Emma and Madison followed her.
Taylor went to the bathroom first of all, to wash her hands off the waste. She had managed to seem like it didn't affect her, but she didn't think she could stand having that feeling any second longer. The smell was noticeable even through the soap, but there was no much she could do about that.
She went to the concierge, told the woman behind the desk about it and then headed out of the school. She had no time for that and, besides, to the world she wasn't Taylor Hebert but Sophia Hess. No matter what she did, the blame would fall on that bitch, not on her. Both Madison and Emma stayed. Emma looked like she wanted to follow her, but she didn't. Good. What few words she had directed at her before were already too many, as far as she was concerned. She couldn't have withstood having her around even longer.
It didn't even need to be said that Taylor didn't know where Sophia's house was, but that information came to the forefront of her mind as soon as she thought about it. She was only reading surface level thoughts, and the things that the brain recalled in response to her thoughts, the dominant consciousness. But she had no doubt that if she really tried, she could dig deep into Sophia's mind, find out all her dirty little secrets. But no. She wouldn't do that. Not yet.
It was shameful to even think it… but the truth was, she was enjoying this. The reversion. Being the one with control, with Sophia locked away and left to rot in the darkness, screaming for help when nobody would heard her. It was simply what she deserved. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.
It took her about an hour. All the while, she had been worried that her power had some sort of range, a limit of distance from the original body. But it there was such a thing, she hadn't crossed it, and Sophia's house wasn't that close to the school. Maybe there would be a time limit, that couldn't be ruled out yet, but nothing had happened.
She rang the bell. Nobody came to open the door, and she didn't heard anything from the inside either. She searched her pockets and, yup, she found a key, along with a phone. She could check that latter. She grabbed the key, opened the door and went inside. Letting herself be guided by what she was gleaming from Sophia's brain, she quickly found the room. Her room.
"Now, now," Taylor said, in a sing-song voice. "Let's see what you have got hidden, you bitch."
And then, she opened Sophia's mind and had a good look.
(you bitch let me go let me go)
The rush of memories drowned out even Sophia's protesting voice.
jumping through the rooftops, immaterial. Through the night. Looking for criminals. Exhilaration. The glim of the steel of a crossbow bolt. Overlooking the scene of a crime. Watching, judging. Emma was there. Begging. But she wouldn't help until she proved she was willing, like herself. That she deserved to live. And indeed, she fought back, so she went to save her. Save her, easily, because, because
"You're Shadow Stalker!" Taylor screamed, clutching at her head. Sophia's head. "You're Shadow fucking Stalker!"
(yeah that's right you bitch you wanted to see my dirty little secrets here they are choke on them)
(shut up)
(you can't do anything about it anymore about any of it you know it you're stupid but not that stupid Hebert people like you are taken straight to the Birdcage you can kill me and get away for a while but how long will that last how long before they connect our story to my sudden out of character suicide huh face it you're finished)
(shut up)
(Can't let a mini Simurgh run around regardless of what she or he has done all the more so if you give them a reason for it they will take care of you one way or the other)
(I said shut up the fuck out)
A creak. Going deeper, deeper, into the darkness, the darkness of her mind.
the smell of the dusty basement, the overwhelming darkness and the hammering of her heart in chest. She was on her knees, one hand over her heart, trying to control her breathing. She had banged on the door of the basement uselessly for a while, begging her step father to let her go, to stop it, and she had been here, like this, silent in the darkness, for a few minutes who already seemed like an eternity. Wanting for it to stop, for the door to open. To go once more into the light. This was too much. He had to be messing with her.
Sophia didn't want to die but less so in this place.
"Steven, please." she begged, tears running down her cheeks. She felt horrible, but what was worse about this was that she hadn't not idea of why this was happening. Steven was not a good father, he was always distant and clearly didn't love her, but he hadn't hurt her before.
She should have died, too. She thought this to herself not with revulsion, but with absolute certainty. At least, things wouldn't have come to this point.
"You don't understand, don't cha?" he said, his tone slightly slurred, but only slightly. He wasn't even drunk out of his mind, just tipsy. "I wanted to show you how the world works, Sophia. How it really works."
"Okay, okay, I get it, but please, let me out. Please…" her voice was barely audible by now. "You weren't never like this. Why did you…?
"No." he said, with absolute finality. "No, you don't understand. But that's okay, because I will make you understand."
A creak. Sophia whimpered, and curled up tighter into a ball. The dark. She didn't like the dark. She didn't like the dark where her parents, her real parents had banished and hadn't never returned. She couldn't stand this. He knew she couldn't stand this, too. But he didn't care.
"You see, Sophia. The world is a sham. People have these… pretensions, these believes that are taken as common sense. Be good. Behave. Don't steal. Don't kill. Respect your parents. Yada, yada. The whole spiel. But when it comes down to it, people are animals. They won't stop at anything to survive. No price is too big for their lives. I certainly saw plenty of that, during the war.
I had to see my friends, my companions, die in battle every day. I saw men and woman battling without meaning, and finding out the cold hard truth. About the divide between the individual and the world. Death was what made them honest. Their ideals, their hopes. Protecting the country, and all of that. It was forgotten at that moment between life and death.
I still remember the screams.
Those screams. They are the melody of both life and death. Of nothingness, and knowing, finally knowing, what it means to be alive. What is worth fighting for. Kicking, screaming, roaring, using anything and everything to ensure their survival. And when even that wasn't enough. The final snapshot of horror in their faces, the knowledge of what they threw away marked in the face of what was now only a cold corpse. It was what compounded it.
That's what it boils down to. If you have to fight, fight. But fight for your life. If you strive for an ideal, a dream, you can only save that. You couldn't never save yourself, let alone other people. Don't you understand? You're the same. You're terrified of the dark. At your age, you're afraid of the dark. And for what? Because your parents meet their end in a cold, dark alley. And you haven't be facing up to it. You haven't be fighting. You have let the memory destroy your life. You have rebuild yourself along the railings of the trauma, and pretended that you're happy, you're wholesome. Like I have been doing for so many years. But you're no more that a caged bird. Face it, face it, Sophia.
Spread your wings and fly.
If you can't… it would be better if things ended here, for both of us."
Her hands clenched into fists. For the first time, she understood what it truly meant to hate somebody. Then,
Taylor saw something. Two creatures. Together, in more that one sense. She could see the general picture, but even thought the details were there they slipped between her fingers like grains of sand, and disappeared. She went back into the darkness of Sophia's mind. She didn't even remember what she saw by then. Once again.
Sophia stood up. Carefully, so as not too fall. She didn't want to fear the darkness anymore. She couldn't stand to cower, cry and beg when nobody cared. When there was nobody to heard her. She sifted. Her body changed. The weight that seemed about to crush her disappeared, and she stepped forward. Through the door.
He was there. On the top of the stairs, a bottle of beer nearly half finished in his hand, looking down at his own lap. He didn't even heard until she was at the stairs, and only because of the loud creak.
"How..." he stared at her, open mouthed.
If you have to fight, fight. But fight for your life. She considered listening to him, for one last time. Take a knife from the kitchen and stab him through the heart, so he wouldn't never hurt her again. So he wouldn't never hurt anybody ever again. It would be easy. He knew how to fight, and she didn't. But he couldn't never touch her thanks to this power. It would be so easy.
But she just ran up the stairs, and out of that house.
Taylor came back to herself. Her vision was misty, and tears ran down her cheeks. The memory had shocked her, but these tears were not hers. They were Sophia's tears. Taylor could clearly felt her distress, even where she was now, locked away in the back of her own mind.
To Taylor, it was just a distressing scene. But far away from her, like another world away. Like any atrocity you could see on TV. It could affect her, but she only needed to change channels, and it wouldn't take long to forget about that feeling, anyway. To Sophia, though, it had been possibly the worst moment of her life. And she had been forced to live through it again.
(you fucking bitch)
The voice was strained, tired. Defeated.
That didn't wash away what she had done, but still. Still, some part of her was feeling guilty. That made her hate her even more.
This time, Taylor dived into the darkness of Sophia's mind out of her own will.
Holding a crossbow, pushing it against the back of somebody else. Steven's back. A dark alley. Walking, towards the water. She was pushing him to the edge. They were in the outskirts of the Bay, on the docks.
"Take it easy." he said, letting out an uneasy laugh. She didn't say anything. She was garbed in what she had chosen as her costume, so of course he hadn't recognized her. Tonight was the first time she had gone out. "Take it easy, please. I'm… I'm not rolling in money, but take my wallet. It's right there, on that pocket. Just, please, don't hurt me."
It was time already.
"Shut up, Steven." Sophia said.
"That voice…" he grimaced. "Why?"
"Why?" her hands shook with anger. "Do you really have to ask why?"
"I was drunk. I'm sorry, I really am, but..."
"Shut up. Of course you were drunk, but not that much. Do you really think having been little tipsy will wash away what you did?" a small pause. "You know, after the day you locked me in the basement, I thought about it. What you said. And I realized you were right, in a sense. I was a victim. I let the past drag me down. I can thank you for that, if nothing else. But. That just makes me realize more what you really are. A victim. Prey. I'm a survivor and a predator, and today, I will really put the past me to rest."
"I've… I've already left. You don't have anything to do with me anymore. Please, just let me..."
"Too late. Begging ain't going to cut it, daddy dearest. Now… time to die."
"...You're going to regret this."
Sophia didn't brother to say anything. She just aimed for his neck, and fired. The crossbow bolt flew through his throat. He could have avoided it, if he had tried. But he hadn't. He had lost an instant because he had hesitated, because he wasn't able to raise above his nature, and that hesitation cost him his life.
He gasped. Blood flowed from his mouth, and from the open wound. He raised his hands to his throat, like he could stop the bleeding. Idiot. Some part of her felt repulsed, but the biggest part of her merely recalled his words. Knowing, finally knowing, what it means to be alive. What is worth fighting for. And when even that wasn't enough. Yes. Him chocking on his own blood, while desperately trying to breathe, to live. It compounded what she already knew, though in a sense Steven wouldn't never understand.
He fell into the water, and sank. He died as he lived. Like trash. She felt sick to her stomach, but she couldn't deny the truth in that. Being pushed to the limit and the choice you took at that point was what defined a person. Steven had broke because of the war, spend years deluding himself and drowning his memories in booze, couldn't be brothered to do anything of worth and one day he had said enough was enough and had lashed out against somebody who couldn't even defend herself, in an attempt to justify his worthless life.
Heh.
What he had done had opened her eyes, but up until the end, he had been nothing but a deluded, pathetic fool.
Taylor gasped, like she was drowning.
she didn't have any trouble in choosing her name. Shadow Stalker. She was strong now. A predator and a survivor. Before she had hidden from the darkness and the shadow of her past, but now all that had changed. She had the will and the power to face up to it. Her name reflected that.
It was perfect for her.
With an effort, Taylor got away from the memories. She had to grab the desk to not fall. She was breathing heavily, and her vision was still misty, but right now, she didn't care about that. Sophia… she was a terrible person, through and through. There was no other way to put it. It didn't change, no matter how fucked up her past was. Something like that couldn't wash away her sins.
Killing Steven… well, she couldn't say that she couldn't understand. She couldn't judge her on that. But the rest of it she couldn't forgive. Killing a few criminals when she didn't have to, being like she was now, torturing her for so long for shits and giggles. All of it. To Sophia, Taylor Hebert was nothing but stress relief. She told herself differently, but she couldn't hide even the lies she told herself from her.
She took out the phone, and checked it. As she had expected, there were texts. Of them laughing about the things they had done, planning it and such. Sophia complimenting Emma about how much of a bitch she was when she used her secrets, her vulnerabilities against her. Of fucking course. Emily Piggot's number was there.
She wrote a message, telling. That Sophia wasn't playing ball. That she was using lethal ammunition, and listed how many times had Sophia really killed. Once she finished, she set the phone down on the desk, sat down on the chair and turned on the computer. She logged on to Sophia's Facebook account-the user name and password were easily extracted from her mind-, and uploaded it. Every single incriminating text. Then, she send the message she had already wrote on the phone to the director.
She stood up, and went to the closet. There it was, behind a false bottom. Where she kept her costume, and her weapons. A big, black case. She grabbed the crossbow from it, and loaded it with trembling fingers. Taylor slowly put it to her head, her finger on the trigger. No, not her head. Sophia's. She had to remind herself of that.
(stop it I won't say anything please stop it)
Taylor took a deep breath.
"Fuck that." she spat out, and let the crossbow drop to the ground. "You aren't worth it."
Yes, she wasn't worth it. She had done what was necessary to get the justice everybody had denied her. But she couldn't allow Sophia to twist her into something she was not. She wouldn't allow herself be one more link on the chain of hatred, pain and misery started by Steven and continued by Sophia and Emma. It wasn't worth it.
"You've made your bed." Taylor told her. "Now lie in it."
She hauled herself out of Sophia's body, and into her own.
It only took an instant. There was a slight sense of disorientation, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Beeping. Surely, the beeping of a EGG monitor. By now, they would have though she had fell into a coma. In a certain sense, it was true. She slowly opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the bright white light above.
Dad was there, on a chair by her bedside, looking at her and biting his nails. He had clearly been crying. For a moment, he stopped in surprise. Then, he hugged her. He tried to say something, but all that came out was a chocked sob.
Smiling, Taylor hugged him back.