Thread: Nothing Can Keep Us Apart. [angelicxdream and shinyka]

The adrenaline. It shouldn't have been running. It was. Do the dead feel rushes, why do I feel alive? Eric couldn't shake these thoughts from his head as another resounding impact lit up the parking lot. He swung again, harder this time, he wasn't in control of his body. His anger, his hate moved his arm, kept his hand clenched around the tire iron. He swung brutally, no, not brutally, every swing had missed a vital point, David's ribs hadn't even cracked yet. He wouldn't be moving any time soon though, no, Eric's brutality saw to that. A yell echoed the air as a final whoosh filled the air, a resounding crack almost intrinsically a successor. Eric's rush faded, his rage subsided. He took a step back to marvel his handiwork. David was now no more than a man like spatter, illuminated by the glowing neon sign that overlooked his body. He couldn't be weak. He couldn't. He had survived it. Even though it killed him, he survived it, he was back. He was no longer a man, to call him such would be wrong. He was a shadow, a fragment of the great man that was once Eric Valmer. Nay, he wasn't a shadow, he was a shade, a child of the night. He had crawled his way back from the grave, now what? Was he going to lay there and pity himself with Emily so near? Why was it that she melted him? It was wet. That was the only thing he could think of. Wet. Was it rain? No, it didn't smell like rain, it was like soil, like something clinging to him and refusing to let go. Why? He couldn't help but wonder. What is it that's wet? He opened his eyes, or perhaps closed them. It was pitch black, either way. Where was he? It was wet, and dark. Wet and dark, like a grave. No, he couldn't be in a grave. If he was in a grave, how was he thinking this? If he was dead, how could he be alive? Eric let out a tiny gasp as his fatigue faded, just as oddly as it had first appeared. He felt his muscles twitch involuntarily, as he once again woke up to the surroundings around him. A room, his room, this room lingering somewhere in time, even though its owner was gone. He felt awake again, clear and alive. Or, as alive as he could be while still in this condition. His senses were returning, he was once again in the present, not reliving, or redying his past happenings. No, what happened now was him. Then, it came to him. The warmth. It clung to him, like a ever present bliss, like a salvation pulling him up to the skies. How could it though? He wasn't moving, he was still in bed. It was then he caught her presence, cold physically but warming him, thawing him, however impossible. Her Emily. She was back, she was with him, it was like no time had passed at all, and the two were still there, like they had always been. He leaned over and sighed. She was with him again, accounting for all the time that they had not had, time that had been stolen from them by ones who did not know them. Time that should have been but wasn't. The dress came to mind. The dress! It had not gone with them, Emily was wearing it now, as she should have been back then. She looked so perfect in it, as she always did, her charm and grace bringing it to its former beauty. Yes dear, he said, breaking the pause. We'll have to get you something to wear. We very well can't have you ..naked, he said, turning to face her and placing a slight stress on the last word in his sentence. It was like it was, this very moment. Before then. Before all this.