Work Text:
Ellison lurched through the endless corridors, trapped entirely in this drug-induced haze. Everything was pulsating and rocking, and he was having trouble figuring out what was reality and what was not. The only thing he was certain of was the fact that he could hear Cody calling to him in a voice full of terror.
He had to get out. He had to get his best friend out. He had to break free of his abductor's clutches and escape...
He raised a hand to rub the sweat from his forehead, jumping when the light reflected off the deadly-sharp, double edged dagger in his hand-- Wait, a dagger? How long had he had a dagger? He didn't know, he didn't remember picking it up... But it didn't matter, he had a weapon now. He grasped it firmly in his hand and staggered on.
Cody was still calling, his voice steadily rising with fear. "I'm coming, Cody!" he yelled. Or at least he tried to. In actuality, all that came out was insignificant mumbles. But Ellison didn't know that. The drugs had messed up his senses.
The urgency in Cody's voice grew, suddenly much closer, and alarm shot through the purple truck like a bullet from a gun. His friend was in trouble! He had to find him--
Something charged him from the side, cutting off his thoughts and thoroughly startling him. Without even thinking, he lunged with the dagger, barely registering the screams of his attacker as he struck them again and again with the deadly weapon, slashing and stabbing in a terrified frenzy--
Whoever it was had gone quiet long before he stopped attacking and drew back. He staggered backwards, still unable to focus on anything, or work anything out in his head. He just needed to get out, and why wasn't Cody calling anymore...? And then, completely spent, he collapsed.
He came round some hours later. The first thing he noticed was the silence. The sounds in his head had gone quiet. Cody was no longer calling. It was almost...peaceful. The second thing he noticed was that he could see properly now. Evidently, the drugs had worn off. Groaning, he got to his feet. He still had to get Cody and get out of here.
But just around the first corner was a sight that chilled him to the bone. A tiny figure was slumped in the corner, twisted sideways, covered in blood. Cody.
Ellison was by his side in a second, shaking him, calling him, patting his face, but there was nothing. He was dead.
"Cody, no, please, what happened to you, Cody, please, wake up, please..."
And then, through his tears, he noticed something else that made his heart drop and filled him with horror. There was a dagger firmly embedded in his best friend's chest. A beautiful, but deadly, double-edged dagger. The very same dagger, in fact, that Ellison had been holding hours before... And only then did he notice the blood staining his own paintwork...
And suddenly he knew what had happened. The desperate "fight" with the unknown attacker. It hadn't been a monster trying to kill him. It had been Cody. He'd killed his own best friend. Cradling the corpse, Ellison howled.