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December 25, 2015:

Rant's side of the Resolve..

The Resolve

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Deathstroke

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

December 24th, 2005:

“So Melody, I know we didn’t talk about it too much, but there are some things you’re going to have to go through in the next few months. Maybe year. The doctors aren’t too sure.” The young woman says with a sad smile. “So, we’ve decided to contact the Make-A-Wish foundation, and they’ve agreed to give you anything you want. Is there anything you need? You’ve wished for since you were a child? Have you ever wanted to take a trip to Disney Land? Maybe ride a horse or meet a celebrity? We can reach out to anyone, and I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you.”

Young Melody didn’t have the strength to sit up in her hospital bed as she lay there, watching the woman with cold eyes. She turns away for the briefest of moments, her eyes boring into the monitor that was hooked into her finger.

“Melody? Tell me what you want.”

“I want to die.”

PRESENT DAY:

Arthur looks at his wrist watch, then at the clock on the wall of the brownstone that was purchase by Kenways, elaborately decorated to share in the Christmas spirit, garlands and wreaths hanging upon the outside door, shimmering lights that create a small little beacon on the deserted streets. Janice was busy in the kitchen, setting the turkey as a center piece to the elaborate dishes that were made to create the Christmas spirit, Beethoven or something similar playing in the backdrop as she too manages to look at the clock.
“You know it’s not a tradition if she doesn’t show up.” Arthur says. “I flew all the way in from Japan for this night, you think she’d want to see us after all of this.” He gestures around.
“You didn’t see what she was doing on her feeds?” Janice asks.
“No, she cut me off a long time ago. Ever since that guy.”
“You mean the one that died and came back. The world is strange.” Janice murmurs.
“Yeah. Even after all of that, you’d think we could sell her on the idea of coming home for Christmas.”
“Arthur, she’s probably just caught up. She’ll be here soon, come hell and high water.”

THE RESOLVE:

The walls slam upright, blocking the sight of Slade from Melody, who only stood there frozen in the fear that floods her very bones. That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?
“Slade?”
Silence.
“Deathstroke?”
Silence.
“Peabody? Peabody!” Melody calls out, but was met with nothing. The dim glow of the red light sets the scene to something terrible, the shifting of the floor causes her to slide and fall upon her side as she tries to catch the floor for a notch and hook to hold onto, her feet kicking and scraping against the ground until she manages to stand at a tilt. Everything within her screaming to –RUN—.

She takes off full tilt, following the path that was presented to her, turning left.. turning right.. turning right.. “PEABODY!” Melody calls out. “GODDAMN IT PEABODY! I WANT TO GO HOME! I’M MISSING TURKEY TIME BECAUSE OF YO—-“
The wall slams upright suddenly, knocking Melody back a few paces, the soft and sickening crunch of bones cracking on impact was the one thing that jars her and wakes her up to let her know that shit just got real. Too real.

She remains upon her back, sprawled in an unsightly mess, her deflated chest slowly popping itself back into perdition as she lets out a wince and a growl, tears already wetting her face as she rolls to her side to cough out a heavy bloodclot that splatters upon the ground.

December 24th, 2005:

“You don’t mean that, Melody. Everyone wants you to fight. To survive. Even if there isn’t any hope left in your body, you have to push. You still have time to live the life that you want, even if it’s so little. Don’t give up Melody. You push. And you keep pushing. Even if you think you have nothing left to cross, you just keep going. Keep. Going.”

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