# A Suprise Visit Chapter 1 Alternate

Title: A Suprise Visit Alternate
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Trish
Rating: SFW
Classification: Serie
Author: SurpriseVisitor
​
-Three months after ENDING 1-
Graduation came and went with no enthusiasm. What would’ve been a fun celebration of everyone moving up and into the real world was completely marred by what had happened.
By what I had caused.
I hadn’t dared show my face around Volcano High on the actual day of graduation. The guilt had kept me in bed throughout the day and the weeks beforehand, long after the physical injuries had healed. Even the thought of them looking at me after what had happened created an almost agonizing turn in my stomach. I went in a couple of days after graduation proper. Principal Spears unceremoniously handed me my diploma, the ultimate culmination of my failure. What little pleasantries he had to offer was done more quietly than I had ever heard him speak.
As I left his office for the final time, a thought crossed my mind - ‘Does he know?’ I shook it away. It didn’t matter, did it?
My eyes wander around my dimly lit apartment room. I crane over at the clock on my desk. It was already past 8:30 at night. Nothing new there, as my unstable sleep schedule had become routine. My eyes wander farther, to an unopened package propped against the dresser. I shut my eyes. I couldn’t look, couldn’t bear to think of what was in that damned package, even though I had a feeling I already knew. It arrived a few weeks ago, some time after Fang’s funeral, addressed to me from her mom. It was small and light, in an otherwise featureless bubble envelope, which meant it could really be only one thing - pictures.
It sat by those dressers, almost like it was mocking me, rubbing in my face all my colossal fuck ups that had led to all of this. Every. Single. Day. And yet I couldn’t get rid of it. How could I? Why should I deserve such solace? There was still a part of me deep inside begging me to open it, to look over the captured memories within, reminisce of what was, the fleeting feelings of love I once had. Taken mere months, but so unbearably long ago, I don’t know if I could handle such a sight of when I... when we... were almost happy. Almost. And yet that 'almost' was the highlight of my life. My absolute peak. I roll back over, away from Pandora’s Box. I need to get up at some point, before I find myself in another downward spiral and spend the night starving.
*Bang Bang Bang*
Something raps on the door, either someone very pissed or in a hurry. I push myself out of bed, thankful I'm still wearing my clothes from the day before. Glancing at the clock again, it was almost nine at night. Who the hell would be here of all places, this late? Besides junkies and criminals that is.
*Bang Bang Bang*
Junkies and criminals don’t usually knock twice. I guess someone really does want my attention.
I approach the door and crack it open, peering through into the barely lit hallway. Right in front and center is a short, purple triceratops. She looks at me. Her eyes, full of burning hatred, piercing my very soul.
She begins to speak.
“Anon-”
I slam the door in her face and press my back against the door. No. No no no no no. Not happening. No way. Nuh uh. Not in sixty-five million years. I reach over and turn the lock and deadbolt.
She speaks through the door, “Don’t make this hard on us Anon. We just want to talk.”
I can barely squeak out a negative response. Bull fucking shit she ‘just wants to talk.’ How the fuck does she know where I live? Why the fuck is she here? Why today? Why at this time? Us? We? Was there someone else?
“Fine. Have it your way.” She says towards the door. I hear her take a couple steps back.
“Break it,” she mutters aside, just loud enough for me to hear.
Oh fuck.
*Stomp* *Stomp* *SLAM*
The impact throws me off of the door and I barely keep my balance.
Oh FUCK.
I scramble back to the door and engage the chain lock.
*Stomp* *Stomp* *SLAM*
The wood in the door audibly cracks.
OH FUCK.
I sprint back towards my desk, scrambling to unlock my phone to call 911. I grab my pocket knife from off the desk, and flick the blade out. Still as sharp as the day I bought it, thankfully.
*SLAM*
“Nine one one, what is your emergency?” The phone answered. I pick the phone back up and desperately attempt to explain that someone is breaking into my apartment with the intent to kill me.
*SLAM*
I sputter my address at them and put the phone down. They won’t be here for a good while, response time in these parts is always slow. Maybe I can stall long enough for them to show up before anything serious happens. Or before I bleed out.
*SLAM*
I can hear the door practically explode into useless splinters as a pair of footsteps enters the apartment. My adrenaline was spiking, there was no flight here, only fight. It’s okay. It’s only Trish, right? And whoever just knocked down my door. Fuck.
I peek around the corner and see Trish, standing in the middle of the main room. Our eyes lock, even in the dim light from the moon and the hallway I can feel her seething hatred bearing down on me.
“Come out from behind that Anon. Let’s talk.”
Her voice was horrifyingly calm for someone that had just committed breaking and entering. Sounds like she had made up her mind about how this was going to go down a long time ago.
I step out from around the corner, waving my knife around like a lunatic. “Stay back! I know how to use this!”
She snorts and grits her teeth. “Even like this you’re still a fucking useless goddamn pain in my ass. Look at this place. You are already dead.”
“The fuck do you care then? Get the fuck out and let me waste away,” I shout at her.
She growls and her brow furrows even further. “‘Let you’? Why should I ‘let you’ do anything? Last time I ‘let you’ do anything, my best fucking friend died. Everything was going perfectly fine before you showed up and thought you could just sweep them up off their feet, and take them away from me. I bet you wanted to turn them into a perfect little princess for you to play with, didn’t you? Like the useless fucking man that you are, trying to force people to be who they aren’t.” Hatred oozes from every single word as she steps towards me.
“Shut your fucking mouth!”
“Reed and I will be the only ones that will remember who they really were. What they could have been. Everyone else at Volcano High? They all laughed at Fang. Rejected them. Humiliated them. We could’ve handled that, the three of us. We were going to prove them wrong. Over a year of planning, practicing, coordinating...everything. And now? None of it fucking matters now. Because of you.” Her last word emanates a pure, almost righteous hatred, like even referring to me causes her pain and anguish.
“I said shut your lying fucking trigger mouth right goddamn now!” My back was against the wall, I hadn’t realized I was backing away from her this entire time.
“Or what? You’ll try to peel more of my friends away from me?” She steps closer. “Maybe Reed this time? You two were such close friends after all, weren’t you?”
Too close. Close enough. Had enough. I slash at her stupid fucking throat, not another word will be coming from her tonight, or ever again.
Or at least that’s what I had hoped would happen.
I underestimated her height, my knife goes high, and she swiftly ducks under my arm. I go back for another, lower slash.
The sound of parting flesh, a scream of agony, the thump of a body against the faux-wood of the apartment, something clattering onto the floor.
I look down and purple eyes meet mine, barely visible through her lightly matted hair and a pair of brilliant ivory horns that were embedded in my torso.
Oh.
Fuck.
I reflexively placed my hand against her head, weakly trying to push her off of me. She thrust back in response, digging her horns deeper into me.
“FUCK”
I lock eyes with her again. She was smiling. Smug satisfaction.
“I miss Fang. Reed misses Fang. I’m sure Fang’s parents miss them.” She rattles, sounding incredibly relieved to have finally gored me.
I can only groan, barely able to mutter a swear towards her.
“Didn’t your parents kick you out of their house? Will they come looking for you when you stop answering? Do they even send you anything to answer to in the first place? Or will they just write you off as the lost cause you are?”
This purple fucking bitch. Probably rehearsed this little speech. Fucking maniac. Fuck.
“Will anyone here miss you? Will anyone notice your name in the obituaries? Will anyone even bother to write one for you?”
“S...sh...shut up…” I sputter through pain and gritted teeth, the taste of blood in my mouth.
“Hurts, doesn’t it? Knowing that you were always unwanted and alone. Fang was like that too, you know? Just another body in the crowd, nothing to speak of, completely ignored. I pulled them out of their shell. Helped them see who they truly were. We were going to make wonderful music. Be rich and famous. World-renowned.” Her tone was almost nostalgic, even though half of that shit wouldn’t have happened.
Wait.
I am a fucking idiot.
“You…” I muster out, barely
“Yes?” That smug fucking tone of voice momentarily makes me so fucking angry I forget I’m in pain and bleeding profusely.
“You’re the reason she was Fang? And not Lucy?
“I made them realize who they were.”
“She hated her entire family...”
“They wouldn’t accept them for who they were”
“She hated everyone…”
“They also wouldn’t accept her for who they were. Except for me. And Reed. But I was going to make them see, make them all accept them.”
“You’re so caught up in your bullshit that you can’t see what you’ve done, you fucking retard.” I shout at her, in anger and pain.
“I helped them-”
“You isolated her, tore her away from everyone she had loved and cared about, all for your stupid fucking band.” I eyed the knife on the floor, longing to plunge it into her.
She pressed me into the wall again, eliciting another scream.
“Guess I missed your fucking lungs, just my luck.” The smugness had melted from her voice and the anger had returned.
“I’ve been hating myself over what’s happened, what I could’ve done, but it’s all your fucking fault this happened. You’re the one that turned her into a lonely and depressed fucking reject.”
She slammed her head into me, her horns burrowing deeper than before.
“SHUT. UP.” she screams
“YOU’RE THE REASON FANG IS DEAD” I scream back, the agony, adrenaline and anger coalescing into a boom I didn’t know my voice was capable of.
Her horns suddenly yank out of me and I fall to the blood spattered floor, barely able to support myself by my arms. A kick to the rib cage knocks me over. I can feel the handle of the knife brushing against my arm as Trish delivers kick after kick into my gut.
“How.” Kick. Reach over. “Fucking.” Kick. Just a little further. “Dare.” Kick. Come on. “You.” Got it.
“Ten fucking years I knew her, and you think you know better than me after just a few months?”
“Blind to your own madness,” I mutter to myself.
“Hmm? What was that? Poor little mumbling skinnie is going to have to speak up.”
“Fucking blind.”
The sound of parting flesh, a scream of agony, the thump of a body against the faux-wood of the apartment.
This time it wasn’t me.
The shock knocks her onto her ass and she clenches the fresh wound. I use what little strength I have left to bring myself over to her. Knife in both hands, I plunge it straight into her. Stomping from behind. There was another with her, right. I use the precious few seconds I have left to inflict more grievous wounds onto her. I receive a savage kick to the gut in return, knocking me off of her and sending me rolling towards the wall, the silhouette of some massive dinosaur looming over us. The sound she makes is some horrific mixture of crying, screaming, choking and gasping, as she flails in the general direction of the second dino. He leans down and scoops her up off the floor.
I hear sirens. Not sure if they’re real. Hopefully I hit something important regardless.
The other dino rushes out of the room, Trish in tow, his footsteps echoing through the hallway. I pray to whatever gods I haven’t pledged to butcher that she doesn’t live long enough to get aid.
I lay on the floor. Broken. Bleeding. Fading. An all too familiar feeling. Something tells me I won’t be waking up in a hospital bed this time around. It ends here. Is it better than a life full of regret and misery? Guess it doesn’t matter. I won’t be finding out. I close my eyes to the rhythmic sounds of sirens blaring and boots stomping.
-End-