Happy Birthday Electricxtears! Fic: 18 But Not Dead - Alex
Title: 18 But Not Dead.
Fandom: LOST
Rating: 15
Word Count: 561
Warning: One use of the mighty F word and dark subject matter.
Characters: Alex, hints of Alex/Goodwin
Disclaimer: I own nuthin'!
Authors Note: No beta, all mistakes are my own! This was made for Electricxtears 18th Birthday. Happy Birthday hon! I hope you like it. I was actually aiming for light and fluffy as should be befitting your birthday but somehow it came out...twisted.
Summary: Candles flickered in a breeze no one felt; 18 tiny flames dancing in nervous anticipation of the end.
Candles flickered in a breeze no one felt; 18 tiny flames dancing in nervous anticipation of the end. Their life destined to be snuffed out with the living breath of another.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the thick, waxy smell of birthdays past. She held her breath and made a wish knowing, even as she did so, it had already come true.
When she blew out the candles she expelled that last lingering fragment of guilt and regret. Today she was 18, tomorrow would be a new start.
She opened her eyes hearing a song that had not been sung and an applause that would not come. A ghost of a smile haunted her lips; coupled with her cold, flinty eyes she looked feral.
It was only then that she glanced at him. A pathetic heap of blood and rags. He was the last but not the first.
Juliet had been the first; the beginning of a path she could not un-tread. 16 and with a heart full of lust and a handful of rocks she had hit her until blood coated her hand covered rock; warm and sticky. Her fingers had gripped the rock so tight that her hand would ache for days after. She had been surprised by the vibrant red of the blood that now knotted Juliet’s golden hair.
Juliet had been the hardest. She had liked her but she hadn’t followed the plan. She was meant to be her new mother; someone to bake and share secret crushes with. Instead she had found her fucking Goodwin on the beach. Her Goodwin. The bitch had deserved it.
Her grin broadened as she remembered Juliet’s eyes frozen eternally in surprise. If Alex had looked feral before she looked the perfect embodiment of evil now.
Ana-Lucia had been next for killing a love that had not even begun. She had been the toughest but most satisfying. The wet pop of her neck nano-seconds before she had slumped to the ground had sent a thrill of triumph through her. Adrenaline pumped through her body at just the memory.
At 17 there had been Rousseau; the mother she had craved come too late. Everything her father had spoken of her when he thought her out of earshot was true. She was a murderer, no better than her father, but covered in the filth of the ditch. It had been quick but not quick enough to avoid the pain and sorrow in the eyes so like her own as the tip of the knife drove through her heart with a guttural squelch. There had no been accusation in those eyes as the life faded from them, just acceptance.
Now on her 18th birthday the stench of gunpowder coated the air. Ben. Dad. A murderer and master manipulator slumped in his chair. A present wrapped in paper the same blue green as the sea, sat in his immobile lap. The card that he had held in his fingers had fallen to the floor and had a fine spray of blood and brain matter marring the thick embossed cream envelope. She picked it up sliding her grimy thumbnail under the seal.
“To Alex,
18 today and a beacon of hope and joy in my life. You have grown into everything I aspired to be but could not become.
Love always,
Dad
HAPPY 18th BIRTHDAY!”
♥ I hope this didn't suck too much, I haven't written anything in ages so I'm a tad tentative about it. But feedback is love.
Fandom: LOST
Rating: 15
Word Count: 561
Warning: One use of the mighty F word and dark subject matter.
Characters: Alex, hints of Alex/Goodwin
Disclaimer: I own nuthin'!
Authors Note: No beta, all mistakes are my own! This was made for Electricxtears 18th Birthday. Happy Birthday hon! I hope you like it. I was actually aiming for light and fluffy as should be befitting your birthday but somehow it came out...twisted.
Summary: Candles flickered in a breeze no one felt; 18 tiny flames dancing in nervous anticipation of the end.
Candles flickered in a breeze no one felt; 18 tiny flames dancing in nervous anticipation of the end. Their life destined to be snuffed out with the living breath of another.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the thick, waxy smell of birthdays past. She held her breath and made a wish knowing, even as she did so, it had already come true.
When she blew out the candles she expelled that last lingering fragment of guilt and regret. Today she was 18, tomorrow would be a new start.
She opened her eyes hearing a song that had not been sung and an applause that would not come. A ghost of a smile haunted her lips; coupled with her cold, flinty eyes she looked feral.
It was only then that she glanced at him. A pathetic heap of blood and rags. He was the last but not the first.
Juliet had been the first; the beginning of a path she could not un-tread. 16 and with a heart full of lust and a handful of rocks she had hit her until blood coated her hand covered rock; warm and sticky. Her fingers had gripped the rock so tight that her hand would ache for days after. She had been surprised by the vibrant red of the blood that now knotted Juliet’s golden hair.
Juliet had been the hardest. She had liked her but she hadn’t followed the plan. She was meant to be her new mother; someone to bake and share secret crushes with. Instead she had found her fucking Goodwin on the beach. Her Goodwin. The bitch had deserved it.
Her grin broadened as she remembered Juliet’s eyes frozen eternally in surprise. If Alex had looked feral before she looked the perfect embodiment of evil now.
Ana-Lucia had been next for killing a love that had not even begun. She had been the toughest but most satisfying. The wet pop of her neck nano-seconds before she had slumped to the ground had sent a thrill of triumph through her. Adrenaline pumped through her body at just the memory.
At 17 there had been Rousseau; the mother she had craved come too late. Everything her father had spoken of her when he thought her out of earshot was true. She was a murderer, no better than her father, but covered in the filth of the ditch. It had been quick but not quick enough to avoid the pain and sorrow in the eyes so like her own as the tip of the knife drove through her heart with a guttural squelch. There had no been accusation in those eyes as the life faded from them, just acceptance.
Now on her 18th birthday the stench of gunpowder coated the air. Ben. Dad. A murderer and master manipulator slumped in his chair. A present wrapped in paper the same blue green as the sea, sat in his immobile lap. The card that he had held in his fingers had fallen to the floor and had a fine spray of blood and brain matter marring the thick embossed cream envelope. She picked it up sliding her grimy thumbnail under the seal.
“To Alex,
18 today and a beacon of hope and joy in my life. You have grown into everything I aspired to be but could not become.
Love always,
Dad
HAPPY 18th BIRTHDAY!”
♥ I hope this didn't suck too much, I haven't written anything in ages so I'm a tad tentative about it. But feedback is love.