Code: Project AURORA | By : DeadlyFriend Category: +M through R > Resident Evil Views: 2944 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil. I do not own the characters and I do not make any money or profit from this story. |
Title: Code: Project AURORA chapter 7
Author: Judyku A03, DeadlyFriend FFnet/Sunnyjude LJ
Summary: Smart viruses are a helluva thing.
Genre: Drama, horror, romance, smut, and humour.
Pairings: Claire/Leon, Chris/Jill, with implications of others.
Rating: NC21. Explicit sex in later chapters. Bad, bad language. Scenes of explicit violence and gore.
Warnings: Character death. Implied alcohol abuse. Implied child abuse. Cannibalism.
Original Characters: Lakshan Bhandari, a 33-year-old genius who works at Johns Hopkins, a biomedical engineer with a background in virology and Infectious Diseases. Creator of the C-Veronica Zero smart virus. Tyrannos, a T-103 Tyrant programmed to be Claire's bodyguard.
I am so, sorry this chapter is *days* late! I got stuck on the beginning and no matter what I did, it just refused to come out the way I wanted it. Then the whole chapter started to come out right and I ended up with, I kid you not, 33 pages. A 33-page chapter is just way, way, wayyyyy too much to post in one go, and so I had a ton of editing to do. I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I have a feeling I'd still be writing this one come Christmas next year!!
xx
Going To Europe.
The shower had been nothing short of glorious and she’d just stood under the spray, head tilted back and eyes closed while the red hot water worked its magic.
Every chemical, every inch, of her own private anguish was sloughed off with the help of a loofah and some fancy body care products Lakshan’s family called spare toiletries. Though how anyone could call the likes of L’Occitane spare toiletries was anyone’s guess, she supposed the eighteen hundred bucks a night paid for the good stuff. The hair care was way up there, too. L’Anza, the shampoo and conditioner read, and she didn’t need Lakshan’s snappy IQ to know this was more or less crack for hair.
Now here she was, with skin that no longer held the scent of hell, while her hair bounced up into its natural wave. And she felt…
Not good, but better.
She doubted she’d ever feel like herself again, what with the infection sat curled, dormant, around her soul. Yet she felt better than yesterday and that was something to be grateful for.
Hope.
That’s what she had today.
Hope and not a small chunk, either.
Maybe it was the fact they started the drive to D.C soon or maybe it was just the fact her situation hadn’t fully sunk into her brain yet. Not that it mattered why she felt good about herself, because all that mattered was that she did.
She paused to take in the sight of Tyrannos at the bottom of the table, his hat next to his own plate. Poor thing didn’t seem to have a clue he was supposed to eat what was in front of him.
“Good morning, Tyr.” Claire made a point to acknowledge the Tyrant and touched the giant’s shoulder.
“Just in time. The perfect cure for sherry hangovers, mate. Let me tell you.” Lakshan began to pile pancake after pancake onto a plate that he soon set down on a place mate opposite his own. He followed with a handful of preserves, several slices of toast and a jar of dark roast peanut butter, super crunchy.
Claire wasn’t ashamed to admit she started to drool as the smells floated all around her in a cocktail of home-cooked yum. “Thank you. You’re hungover. Me? I’m just fine.”
“Only ‘cus I infected you with the constitution of a Tyrant. And your coffee.” Lakshan dropped a cup in front of her.
“Still sucks to be you. Again, thank you.”
“Take that infection away? We’ll see who can sink the most and be fresh as a daisy first thing.” The doctor finally sat with his own breakfast.
She felt his gaze shift to and from her, discomfort increased and rolled off of him until it made her insides tingle. A sensation that left her disturbed and intrigued in equal measure. One glance at Tyrannos saw him with his gaze also on the doctor.
Claire fought back the urge to laugh and laid her her fork next to her plate for a moment. “Say it, doctor.”
His shoulders drooped in defeat. “Given your increased need for fuel, food, I’d like to suggest you eat as much peanut butter as you can. The slow release energy will go a long way to helping stave off the need to…”
“Eat you bankrupt?” Claire offered, her eyebrows jolted high into her hairline as humour twitched at her lips.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” Lakshan offered her a supportive smile. “Money’s not my concern, Claire. You are. So if you’re hungry, tired, want to stop for any reason, just say the word, alright?”
“Alright.” There wasn’t much else she could do in truth. As much as it pained her to admit, she was wholly dependent on him and his money until she got home, though she did intend to pay him back as much as she could.
They ate in silence as they kept one eye on the clock which said it to be just after six, so they weren’t doing too bad for time. There was another hour before they set off on the ten-hour drive that would take a full one third off of the journey to D.C.
She looked at him curiously for a moment before she broke the companionable quiet between them. “How much do you know about the viruses? From a medical standpoint, I mean. How they work with the human genome.”
“That’s a loaded question if ever there was one.” He shook his head. “The T-Virus, as you know, renders some people into zombies or the living dead. Given the characteristic traits of zombies… How horrified you would be to know just how many ways and means there are making a zombie. Carpenter ants in Thailand, Rabies, fungus, CJD, Toxoplasma gondii, and…”
“Kuru?” Claire added gently and hoped the word didn’t spawn too many horrors for him while he ate.
“Yes. Kuru.” Lakshan clasped his fingers together and looked at her. “Rabies would be a logical starting point for the T-Virus given the anger it induces is very similar to that found in zombies.”
“But you don’t think so, do you?”
The doctor’s dark curls bounced. “My opinion is that Rabies is not Virus Zero. Is not the base used to make the T-Virus. I ruled it out by process of elimination mostly. Rabies is very quick to become lethal and given the fact it takes complete death for the T-Virus to manifest and reanimate enough neurological function for a zombie to become active. Chances are high Rabies would kill before any change occurs. So that wasn’t the virus used as the building blocks. The T-Virus, however, is a Mitochondrial virus that replaces a host’s …”
“Mine.” Claire’s eyes sparkled with a little bit of mischief and she was pleased to see it had the desired effect on him.
Lakshan visibly relaxed as he spoke. “Mitochondrial viruses like the T-Virus work quickly and efficiently. The virus inserts its own genetic code on immediate contact with your cells, then it replaces the organelles with its own by doing that very thing. Those organelles are what powers the very basic neurological function in a zombie. The life expectancy of a zombie becomes three to four months, maximum. Can you guess why?”
Her eyes went wide after he posed the question, then she realised this was his way of teaching.
Claire mulled over the question as she raised her fork to her mouth and stopped as the answer was literally inches away from her face. “It’s this, isn’t it? The biological change they undergo from the virus… They can’t get enough to eat, can they? That’s why they target living beings, but we can’t sustain them and the organelles can’t absorb nutrients from standard food. In essence, the zombie runs out of fuel. That’s why I oinked out at the Kum and Go.”
“Exactly.” Lakshan gestured her way. “The virus repeats this with every cell until the infection is complete. Then at the time of brain-breath, the pathogen reanimates the dead neurological pathways to where basic function is restored. Like safe mode on a computer, for example. However, the amygdala isn’t reanimated and so there’s no serotonin released. This why aggression is the primary response.”
“Well, shit.” She sat back, wholly impressed with his way of mind. It was plain to see he wasn’t only a very intelligent man, but he was also tempered and wise enough to do his homework. “That’s probably more information than I’ve had in ten years, doctor. So why do you think the T-Virus turns some into zombies and others into, well, Tyrants?”
Lakshan blew out a long breath and rubbed his beard. “Honestly? I’m not wholly certain. Could be down to individuality or an undiagnosed medical condition, perhaps. I’d need a good sample size for a blind study before I could begin to make an educated guess. Your particular Virus was made by me, so it was fully tailored to your specific genetic code. Not that Matiass knows that, of course.”
Claire frowned. “What do you mean? Tailored to my genetic code?”
This brought out sheer smugness in him and his grin belonged on the face of Dennis the Menace. “You’re only forty percent Tyrant, mate. I may have had a subtle gun to my head, but I can tell you straight. Matiass was too far gone. All he cared about was The Countess. So I coded the cells and diluted the serums with something that has sixty percent DNA in common with humans. Musa sapientum, it’s called.”
“What’s Musa Sapientum?” She didn’t have to wait long for her answer.
“Will you experience changes in your physiological being? Certainly, but there won’t be any neurological degradation or growth of ocular tissue in your scapula.” Lakshan grinned as he raised his fork in a toast. “Anybody tries to nick a sample? All they’ll find is Claire Redfield and a banana.”
xxxx
Claire just finished her theft of every spare toiletries that filled the cabin, with the doctor’s permission of course. Now she had enough luxury goods to last her an entire year at least.
Rich friends were life and the fact a rich friend infected her? Well, that spelt years of entitled luxury, didn’t it?
“Lakshan?” She called out as she made her way back to the lounge with three full bags shared between both hands.
“About ready to hit the road with your booty?” He slung a large duffle bag over his shoulder and stood by the open door, ready.
She nodded and went to speak, only to have her words cut off by the strangest of sensations, and she looked around for the source. Only there was nothing inside the cabin that accounted for it.
“Everything okay, mate?”
“Yeah. I… Yeah. Just…” Her skin felt almost itchy, as though something tickled every inch of her all at the same time. Her spine rippled. “It’s nothing.”
Lakshan stared at her, serious. “It’s not nothing.”
Claire bit her lip, the bags rustled as she adjusted her grip, but it did nothing to relieve the unnerved prickle that scratched under her skin. “Can you feel that? Like a vibration or something. It’s just bouncing off of me. Wait. There it is again.”
“No. Don’t feel anything like that. Can you describe it to me?”
There was nothing but her own paranoia at first and frustration began to claw its way up into her brain. She found strength enough to push it down and concentrated on simple breathing exercises.
Claire inhaled and exhaled, slow and even, in and out. Then she felt the pull in her gut and she was unable to resist, and she fell again. Fell backwards through time until the wind broke her fall and it rushed over her, rushed through her.
Oh, but she was everywhere and she spread her fingers out as each and every scent painted a picture in her head. Mountains and forest and snow, trees and flowers and soil. They all made something truly exquisite, but there was something else.
Something didn’t sit quite right, that didn’t belong in nature, so she dug deep and deeper still. Mapped the roots as one tree kissed another until she found the smallest trace of what she sought.
It was so, so faint as to be almost imperceptible. Almost, that is, but there it was. Buried under layers of nature and ozone and granite was the noxious odour of gas and exhaust emissions of an All Terrain Vehicle.
She felt the rumbled engine pulse its filth against her flesh, smelled the fumes taint the trees for years to come and something inside her snarled.
Claire reached out more, roots and branches became her very nerves as they spread out through the ground. Then there they were, their boots thumped rapid fire as they ran swiftly over her body, each footstep a slap to the face of the monster that lay dormant in her brain.
She tried to stop them and trip them up, hold them off, but they were too strong and she went down when her whole world flashed white as it hit.
Silver sliced and cut and stabbed its way straight down to her fucking soul. Agony tore strips off her sanity as it came again and again. The blade lashed sharp enough to rip through flesh and bone to expose the slab of yellowed fat that dropped heavy to the soil. Muscle and sinew screamed as the knife wrenched them wide open and blood seeped out of her bark.
Claire opened her eyes, lips pulled back into a snarl as she found one of them and she fought back.
xxxx
“Holy shit, holy shit…”
“The ground. It’s the fucking ground. Shit.”
Chris managed to keep tight hold of Jill’s wrist as the tree behind her came alive and began to wind slowly around her ankle.
Thorns grew out and began to push down through her pants until the fabric turned wet with blood. It pulled on her and it was strong enough to tug her right out of his arms.
“Chris…” Jill grabbed onto him and her nails scored his hands, but he didn’t care.
“Hurry the fuck up.” Chris winced an apology right before he hauled his partner to where his arms locked tight under hers.
Burton’s rough voice came from somewhere behind him, the gruff sound laced with pure rage right before multiple bullets battered whatever the hell had gotten a hold of him. Then finally Kennedy landed a skid down on his hip, knife in his hand.
Chris tried to dodge bits of dirt and soil as the agent hacked away at the thick root until it lay dead on the snow. He wasted no time and one good, hard pull had his partner where she belonged. Where she was safe.
He pulled back just to look at her. “You good, honey?”
Jill nodded, a little shaken up. “I’m good. We have our backs to each other from here on in.”
“Agreed.” Barry was breathless and his face was speckled with tiny cuts. “Thorns are assholes.”
Chris pushed Jill and himself up, his gun ready to go and the safety off. “Back to back. Kennedy, Jill. I want you two up front. Your eyesight is better than mine over long distances. Barry, you’re with me. Anything moves? You shoot until it doesn’t. I don’t know what we’re dealing with here. We go quick as we can until we reach Bhandari’s cabin.”
“Affirmative.”
“On three… One, two, three…”
xxxx
Claire found herself square on her ass while Lakshan knelt over her, his thumb pulled her lower lash line down and shone a beam of light into first one eyeball, then the other. Then the warmth of his palm curled around her forearm until two of his fingers gently lay across her pulse point.
“Claire, mate? Can you hear me?”
There was no time for this.
“They’re not coming. They’re already here. We have to hide.” It hurt like a bitch, but she managed to drag herself to her feet and grabbed onto Tyrannos like a damned lifeline.
“Bollocks.” Lakshan slammed the door, then bolted and chained and locked it.
“They’re getting closer. I can hear them running, Lakshan. They have guns. Machine pistols. Door locks won’t do any good. We have to go now.”
The doctor disappeared into the kitchen, where cupboard doors were opened and shut in a cacophony that bounced around her skull.
She stared in disbelief when Lakshan reappeared with another bottle of sherry in his hand. “What are you doing?
The bottle cap was unscrewed. “I have a plan. Go to the garage below with Tyrannos. There’s a black tarp over the ski mobile. It should be big enough to cover you both. No arguments. My plan won’t work if you’re here.”
Claire gaped at her friend. “I’m not gonna leave you to deal with whoever they are alone. Or whatever hair-brained plan you’ve cooked up. That’s crazy!”
Lakshan took a large gulp of alcohol, the cringe of disgust on his face said it all. “They’re the least of my worries. Alcohol poisoning on the other hand… Tyr, get her down to the garage and hide.”
“What… Hey!” Her feet left the ground and a solid shoulder ground hard into her gut, but there was no escape from the grip of a Tyrant. At least not without a rocket launcher and several rounds of lucky breaks.
Her wide eyes unable to do more than gawk as stairs were swallowed three at a time under his powerful stride.
Holy shit…
“There it is, Tyr. In the corner. Quick get us under it. Now, remember no noise.”
xxxx
Chris hid behind the door as Kennedy knocked on it, his leather jacket and jeans made him the perfect man for the job.
“Hello, anybody home? I, like, totalled my car and shit. You gotta radio or phone? It’s, like, an emergency.”
He curled his lips up at the ease of which the agent slipped into dumbass mode. Not that the guy had to work too hard at being a dumbass. Didn’t have to work too hard at being a dick, either, but now wasn’t the time.
Kennedy knocked again when there was no answer. “C’mon. Somebody’s gotta be home, yo’. I’mma freeze my man titties off out here.”
Chris was about to simply shoot the windows out and go in there by force, but signs of life came from the other side of the door.
He waited patiently if not calmly and readied himself to bust the shit out of whoever stood between him and his sister’s kidnapper.
“Hold your bloody horses, lads. You know I’m ill.” Three locks clicked consecutively before the door opened. “But I still got the booze…”
Chris was on his sister’s kidnapper, left forearm lodged against a throat and his gun dug hard into the bastard’s skull. He barrelled the asshat backwards and didn’t stop until he heard the sound of a spine slammed against wood. “Where is she?”
The sickly smell of sherry wafted out from the man’s breath. “What the bloody hell? Danny didn’t say anything about inviting any mates around.”
Kennedy’s balled fist slammed a world of krav maga straight into Bhandari’s gut, then grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled the head back to expose the throat to his knife. “You play with us? I play with you.”
Bhandari wheezed and spluttered, but Chris didn’t give an inch. “Claire Redfield, dickwad. Where. Is. She? I know you know.”
“Come on, sir. This behaviour isn’t protocol.” Ahh, Jill. She knew his game well. She was such a sweetie.
Chris caught Kennedy’s gaze, pleased to see the agent was on the same page.
“Fine.” Kennedy let go and stepped back, hands held up in surrender and a grin on his face. “My fist slipped.”
Barry appeared at his side. “No sign of her, sir.”
Chris let Bhandari drop to his knees.
“That…” The man swallowed. “Was not a good idea.”
“We’ll be the judge of that, doctor Bhandari.” Burton said, straight-laced as anything.
Jill pulled a photograph of Claire out of her pocket. “This woman is Claire Redfield. Witnesses spotted you with her at a Kum and Go yesterday afternoon. We have the power to reduce the charges and get you a single cell if you tell us where she is.”
Bhandari looked up at them, a smile steadily worked its way from ear-to-ear as he got to his knees. “Far away from you bloody cockwombles.”
Kennedy’s knuckles cracked hard enough off of the doctor’s skull that Chris winced as the man went down, a trickle of blood leaked out of his nose. “What was that?”
“I’m not telling any of you sweet fuck all.” White teeth shone red. “Now piss off.”
Chris looked at the agent, their laughter came out in a rich mix of depth and feigned humour.
“He told us to piss off even after we’ve been so nice to him.” Kennedy smiled a crocodile’s smile.
“Wonder where all that stiff upper lip is.” Barry rubbed his lower lip in deep thought.
“My mate? She’ll be with her brother and giving everything I have on you bastards to the BSAA.” Bhandari hiccoughed and beamed up at them, bloody and so fucking smug. “As for your stiff upper lip…”
Chris had no time to jump out of the way before the fucker heaved and barfed sherry all over his boots.
xxxx
The moment Claire heard the familiar gruff of her brother’s voice, she froze right there under the black tarp. Her heart went from zero to sixty in under two seconds and she clung to the silent Tyrant next to her.
Terror clawed its way all through her body and left her veins ice cold as she began to shake.
They would kill Tyr if they saw him. They wouldn’t stop to think or-or listen. They wouldn’t stop or listen to her and would just turn their weapons on him and wouldn’t stop until he was dead.
No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to make herself move or get up or do anything other than sit there, useless. Not even when she heard the doctor take a hiding from both her brother and Leon.
Hot water prickled at her eyes and she rocked, mouth wide open in a silent scream as the metallic scent of blood filled the air. Her friends and family had just beaten Lakshan to the point of blood.
How thrilling I find your cowardice. Perhaps milk is more to your taste.
Claire blinked moist eyes.
Cowardice?
Milk?
Oh, the hell to the no, lady. I’ll show you cowardice.
“Stay here, Tyr. I can’t promise they won’t hurt you. So stay here, okay? I’ll be alright.”
She made sure the black tarp hid every bit of the Tyrant before she ran for the stairs, her footsteps loud enough to be heard over the shouts and yells.
The door was pulled open from the other side and was nigh on knocked off her feet by the bitter stench of vomit.
Blood, sweat, sherry, pancake, coffee, and bile.
All of it smacked her in the face and Claire staggered, hand over her mouth as her throat closed up in self-preservation, but it was no use. Her stomach roiled and churned and trapped air ballooned her cheeks. That smell wafted right up both nostrils and down her pipeline to tickle her tonsils.
Vomit didn’t just slide up and out of her mouth, but it sprayed. It wholly and completely sprayed out from between her lips and fingers at a thousand miles per hour and landed square on the pants and boots of Leon Kennedy.
xxxx
The cool air felt like sheer bliss as it blew over her hot face and Claire let her head flop back against the wooden beam behind her.
She could still feel it there in her mouth, where a taste of sick lingered and stuck to her tongue and teeth. Tried to gulp in fresh air to stop it, only she failed, and her entire body twisted and contorted as she turned to dry heave into the waste bin next to her.
So very vulgar...
A soft hand pressed a cool glove against her temple and pulled her hair back away from her face.
“Water?” Jill offered as she sat in front of her.
Claire gratefully took it and rolled the icy cold bottle across her forehead. “Sherry? Never again. How’s Lakshan? He okay?”
Jill may be her brother’s partner, but it satisfied her to see the woman redden a little. “Barry. He’s helping the doctor clean up. We didn’t know he was the one who got you out, Claire.”
Didn’t stop to think more like.
Claire held her tongue. If she said too much, she’d have to confess and tell about her infection. That Lakshan was the one who infected her with a T-Banana Veronica smart virus.
“Yeah, well…” She swirled a gulp of water around her mouth and spat into the bucket.
“You alright out there, mate?”
It hurt to laugh, but she did it anyway. “Just fine, doctor. How’s the jaw?”
“Oh, you know. Can’t complain. Your brother and agent Kennedy are cleaning up.”
“And so they should,” Claire said, serious. “The banana won’t sing. Leverage.”
Silence passed for a moment. “Bananas never do. They’re the introverts of the fruit world.”
She dropped her head between her arms and laughed. Introverted bananas indeed.
Claire opened her eyes to find Jill’s gaze wholly fixed on her. She tilted her head as a hint of anger cranked the heart rate up a notch. “Have at me. I mean, you were all probably out of your mind, right? Yet here I am, hungover on sherry while living it up in an eighteen hundred dollar per night ski lodge with a genius hot guy.”
Surprised flashed quickly in the woman’s eyes before it disappeared. “After the lesson I just learned about jumping to conclusions? Words will keep until you’re ready to talk.”
“A wise decision.” Claire’s lips twitched and she was about to say something else when her brother’s overgrown ass shoved itself down next to her.
Chris draped his forearms over his bent knees, his shoeless feet wiggled in the borrowed ski socks. “Not half bad here, is it? If only the wildlife didn’t attack. Don’t ask.”
“Eighteen hundred per night.” Claire drank, swished, and spat again. “We got here late. Didn’t know if the phone was tapped. So we…”
“I get it.” He held up a hand. “That’s how you got dragged into this mess, remember? I didn’t call.”
“How could I forget?” Her lips curled up at the memory Raccoon fucking City. “I’d do it all again, you know? You’re my brother, Chris. I love the shit out of you. Even if you do go around beating twenty pounds of snot out of innocent people.”
“That’s the unknown for ya.” Chris looked at her then, a large grin on his face and he opened his arms.
That was all Claire needed and she flung herself at her big brother, her pain in the ass, and tried not to squeeze too hard lest she break him in half or something. And hell knew she could do without that interrogation.
His lips pressed hard on the top of her head and she just breathed him in, and there he was. All warm and big bear Chrissy Redfield chest that housed a strong heartbeat, and she memorised that sound and filed it under Dummy.
Her brother squashed her and it was all she could do to not bawl it out like she was six years old. She clung to him, though, just as she had clung to Tyr down there in the garage and hidden under the black tarp.
Tyr was the physical embodiment of what she was now. Tyr who was still down there in the dark like some dirty forgotten secret.
She had to cover for him before they found him.
Claire sniffed and pulled back to smile up at her brother, but he spoke first.
“We’ll get the others to bring the truck up. No way are you walking through this place. Shit.”
Confusion furrowed her brow. “What do you mean? It’s beautiful up here.”
“I was attacked by a tree.” Jill raised the hem of her pants leg to show a cut that looked to be an easy inch long. Superficial, thankfully, but it was still there.
Claire gave a low whistle. “Damn those moving trees.”
“It came through the ground, Claire.” There was a seriousness to her brother’s face when he stared at her. “The tree root came out of the ground. Pulled her out of my arms. Kennedy had to slash the fucking thing with his knife. Burton took a coupla hits, too.”
The water bottle paused halfway to her mouth.
I had one of them. I had one by the ankle when the knife came down. Oh god, oh god. That was me. I did this. I attacked Jill. Like Alexia attacked Steve. I can’t. I can’t. I need them to go now. They have to go. Get away from me. I don’t know what to do.
“... Seen anything like that?”
Claire shook her head, numb. Her voice a distant shell of itself. “No. No, I haven’t seen moving trees before.”
“I have once.” Chris went silent and tapped his thumb off his forearm, his gaze focused out on the spectacular view afforded by Lakshan’s family. “A few years ago. There was snow there, too.”
God, she didn’t have to look at Jill to know what would be in the woman’s eyes. She could fucking feel it crawl all over her.
“Are you okay?” Jill went to touch her, but stopped right before contact was made and She watched the woman’s fingers curl away.
Claire lifted her gaze to see Jill realise what she’d just done. Shame and regret coloured the woman’s cheeks a rosy pink while eyelids fell shut for a moment.
She was on her feet before Jill said anything else. A bright smile pulled both corners of her lips all the way up. “Never better, actually. Staying in luxury tends to put being kidnapped into perspective. So as I was going to say. Lakshan and I will stick to the plan of us driving to D.C. You know how drives always clear my head.”
Jill reached out. “I-I’m sor…”
Claire shook it off even as total fucking hurt poked at the back of her eyeballs.
She would tell them nothing.
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