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I know Spiderman is your favorite, so I figured you already had all of them. I found this tucked away in some old stuff, I really liked it. I hope you do too.
Love, Sid
Sid, I absolutely adore it! Thank you so, so much. Happiest of Christmases to you.
Love always,
Nora.
Here are your robes back. I thought you might want them.
...hey.
Nora Nora Nora. You are a superhero you know that? Someone who's always there for people and I'm sorry I can't be there for you all the time. Know that you are such a light in my life and that I don't want you to ever go out. Take care of Selma. I don't know if she'll understand. Love Sid
Nora put the note down slowly, her hand trembling. I don’t know if she’ll understand… Nora read and reread the note, fear at what Sid might have done building pressure in her chest. She stood all too quickly, and hit both her knees on her side table, falling to the floor. The room wobbled, and Nora pulled herself off the ground.
Where is he? Where is he? whereishewhereishewhereishe?The words pounded in Nora’s mind, an anthem pounded into her brain without avail, and she flew out of the room.
She had to find Sid Oliver before that boy did something stupid.
Merlin's fucking shit, Sid Oliver.
rock/fist/paper/scissors || sid & fred || iv.
Walls of the basement.
Walls of the closet.
Walls of the cabin.
Walls in her mind.
Then a brick wall, and then nothing.
Somewhere in the wake of the closet door's sharp slam, a string of words drifted across her mind. I knew it was a trap. I knew we shouldn'tve gone for the key.
But Sid was frantic and shouting, and she was all used up, so she let the thought float away. It was too late, anyway.
Her head fell against the closet door with a muffled thunk. "Sid." Her voice was thinner than air. Her fingers found the old rusted doorknob. She could feel it rattling in her hand as Sid wrestled violently with it from the other side. She summoned the last inklings of strength left in her and tried to twist it--once, twice, thrice. Her hands were raw. It wouldn't budge.
"Sid." She collapsed against the tattered but impenetrable door, sliding down to her knees, forehead pressed to the wood. "Sid. Please stop yelling."
rock/fist/paper/scissors || sid & fred || iii.
"Shit!"
Fred scrambled desperately away from the door, Sid's hand gripped tightly in hers, and pressed herself into the back corner. Her heart was pounding in her chest, the blood was pounding in her ears, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the horrible dark room. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Holy motherfucking hell.
This is it. This is death.
They were bodies. Those were dead bodies. But she hadn't imagined what had just happened, she was certain.
Maybe seconds, maybe hours, she was paralyzed, dizzy with the sound of her own breathing.
Nothing.
She could see the key, clutched tightly in the swollen-fingered grasp of a little girl. Her cold glassy eyes gazed out from the depths. Unmoving. The entire room was still.
Fred finally dared to whisper. "What was that?"
