^{variedintuitions !}

          so quick he doesn’t even see it happen, her hand is on him in a flash, efficiently startling him in it’s suddenness. what he does see, though, is what comes next. the colours emanating from her. it’s beautiful. breathtaking. befuddling. he hears no reaction from the people nearby, but he’s essentially forgotten there’s anyone else but the two of them.

          a woman’s voice comes through his phone. ‘ emergency. which service? ’ wide blue eyes finally blink as he carefully lowers the phone and ends the call. ‘ o k a y. ’

          <sup>B R E A T H E    ,    for christ’s sake  .    air is held inside jailhouse ribs    ,    a cacophony of life trapped within         -    she sees the    telltale    gaze    ,    the movement as he hangs up the phone without a word  .    grip loosens to a level that does not threaten to break bone  .

                    ‘     PLEASE         -    don’t  .     ’ 

          IT    IS    ALL    CONNECTED  .    colours soften just so    ,    becoming the epitome of    WARMTH    &&    COMFORT    ;    the sight of her    ,    slowly    ,    seems more human  .    blood hides the multitude of scars that cover her every inch    ,    where the shorts    &&    shirt do not  .

                    ‘     wh  -    where are we    ?     ’</sup>

^{variedintuitions !}

          it’s becoming clear to him that she is not in any state of mind to be able to tell him what happened to her, nor to decide what should be done. she’s too shaken. but after some rest and treatment (whether medical or psychological) she may be an important witness. a witness! perhaps she’s a victim, or even a possible suspect! either way it seems dirk may have just found himself a new case.

          lifting his hand away from the young woman’s back, he glances to his palm - wet with blood - then quickly and carefully wipes it off on a dry part of her garment. next, his phone is retrieved from his trouser pocket in order for him to dial 999. ‘ hold on. they’ll send emergency services soon. ’

          <sup>hand extends like a bullet from a gun         -    VIOLENT    ,    as form becomes blurred         -    grips wrist with superhuman strength  .    oh    ,    god    ,    is she a    MURDERER    ?    is that what they’ll see    ?    no    ,    they won’t    BELIEVE    her         -    she phases    ,    visible form descending into a shapeless mess of colours    ,    emotion seeping from seams    &&    cracks  .

                    ‘     PLEASE         -     ’

          SHE’S    NOT    CRAZY  .    the scientist is    DEAD    ,    but he    DESERVED    IT    ;    it was the    only    option         -    his blood coats her skin the way hers coated his gloveless hands    ,    his knives    ,    his fucking    L E A D    P I P I N G         -

                    ‘          -    D O N ’ T  .     ’</sup>

^{variedintuitions !}

          ‘ are you sure? ’  if she really isn’t injured, then she probably doesn’t need an ambulance, but on the same page, that would mean that all this blood isn’t hers. perhaps someone else needs an ambulance.  ‘ what’s happened? can i call someone for you? ’

        <sup>pray tell    ,    who would there be to call    ?    her father    ,    who took her childhood    &&    crushed it under his thumb    ?    her mother    ,    who so eagerly let it happen    ?    her best friend    ,    whose blood was spilt six months ago now         -    whose life she watched dragged away    ?    no    ,    there is    NO    ONE    ,    there is    NOTHING  .    head droops toward chest    ,    breath barely leaving greyed lips  .

                    ‘     wh         -    where         -    i    can’t         -     ’</sup>

^{variedintuitions !}

          somehow people don’t seem to notice her, and if they do, they don’t stop. but dirk notices, and watches as her legs (seemingly too weak to carry her any further) buckle and she falls to the ground. it’s not until dirk speeds over and kneels beside the girl that a small crowd gathers- simply onlooking and not helping. a hand rests on the girl’s back; the blood on her clothes is fresh- it’s wet to the touch. “a-are–” are you okay? what a stupid question. “do you want me to call you an ambulance?”

          ^{oh    ,    it is not    HER    blood         -    fingers that so recently    DUG    INTO    FLESH    push open - palmed against the ground    ,    attempt to push her    failing    body upright  .    the pavement is rough to the touch    ,    so much rougher than the linoleum    &&    metal of the lab         -    CHERISHED    ,    held in memory  .    kate flinches from contact    ,    whimpers    ,    holds in a scream as she turns to glare    ,    WIDE  -  EYED    ,    at the first new eyes she has seen in what feels like a lifetime  .    WHAT    DID    HE    SAY    ?}

          ^{blood  -  soaked    clothes    ,    shaking hands    ,    a stumbling    ,    listless form across the harsh ground  .    her head is    THROBBING    ,    every piece of her    SHUDDERING    &&    JOLTING    with blinding pain  .    people pass by    ,    ignorant of the horrors that plague their perfect worlds         -    they do not watch her    ,    do not look  .    everything spins    ,    &&    broken body collapses on the pavement    ,    head    crushing    into the ground  .    SHE    IS    FREE    ,    but she has not known a world this large for so long         -    shaky breaths    ,    entire body shivering under ridiculously insufficient clothing  .    fingers claw at loose stones         -    the girl is    BEYOND    BROKEN  .          //    open starter .}