A short story, by RazukenCarrendar

The Gift of Lyra

“Please speak to me… At least say something…”

‘That was the last thing I said to her. Silence was her reply, making my pleading words personify a warm breeze hitting a cold stone wall. Every single action is burned into my memory. Tears dropping, heart beating, adrenaline rushing, and head throbbing. My knees were upon the cold dirt, the moisture seeping into the blue denim jeans. Blood of multiple sources dripped carefree from my fingertips. Red moist stains of blood splotched over the white button-up shirt. The last of the red streaks crossing my vision. At that moment of silence, my heart burst.’

(Several Hours Earlier)

“Lyra! Come on!”

Lyra suddenly drew her attention from the conversation she was having with her friends to the familiar voice. She glanced around the crowded school grounds and saw that familiar face. Drake, her high school sweetheart of two years was standing near his car, a 2000 Corvette that he had earned from his hard work with his Dad last summer. She smiled and lost all sense of her surroundings, getting lost in his dark eyes, even from afar. There were several sharp gasps of shock coming from behind her, and when she turned to look, she ran straight into Grant, the most immoral piece of scum that could walk the earth, or at least on the schoolyard

“Hey there cutie, I never thought you would just jump into my arms..”

He grabbed onto her arm firmly with a devilish grin creasing up his scar on the left side of his face, flashing his ugly yellowed teeth. His thuggish friends next to him were chuckling dumbly at Grant’s oppressive attitude.

“Let go of me you jerk! Or… or else!”

“Or else what? Come on… I like a woman with a fiery spirit… Show me what you got!”

Lyra immediately showed him what she had, a face full of claw-like fingernails. She raked him across the face and he immediately let go of her, grasping his face with a sudden shriek. Everyone in the school ground froze, staring at shock at this act of bravery, or stupidity. Students around began to whisper with concerned looks.

“Oh no… Lyra is going to get hurt!”

“Where is Drake?”

“Did you see the glare on Grant’s face??”

Grant pulled his hand from his face to see blood creasing across his palm. He whirled upon Lyra, attempting to slap her with a heavy hand, but when he did so, Drake was already in front of him, stopping his hand with a stiff forearm. Grant was taken aback for a moment at his sudden arrival, but scowled at him menacingly. Drake looked at him from underneath a jet black lock of hair that dropped over his right eye, and spoke with a tone that dripped of a deadly intention.

“I want to be very clear, Grant, so listen closely.” Drake stepped closer to Grant, invading his space. Grant’s blood was beginning to boil, his fists clenching.

“If you lay a single finger on Lyra… I will put you in a box 6 feet under. I am not afraid of you..” Drake scoffed at those standing behind Grant. “Nor your little posse of punks.”

Grant started to chuckle out of rage and leaned in closer to Drake, accepting his ultimatum.

“You have a lot of fucking nerve… You come up to me and talk like that? You will not be walking away from this alive… I will… wait… WHAT?” Drake was walking away at this point, with a calm expression still upon his face, his arm about Lyra. He walked to the Corvette, but still was within earshot of Grant.

“What? Are you going to fucking walk away from me like that you piece of shit?? Fine then! I will make sure you and your little flower will pay for this!” At that moment, whenever nobody was looking, Drake turned his head and shot Grant a glare that would send a chill down his spine.

On the road, Lyra straightened out her skirt and plucked off the flesh that was underneath her fingernails, fussing silently to herself over her disgust. She was still quiet, because Drake had that same cold expression on his face when he was in a dangerous mood. She bravely decided to break the silence.

“You handled yourself well Drake… I was afraid you were going to have another episode… I am sorry… I was being stu…”

“Shut up… You were not being stupid… Grant had you by the arm… and you defended yourself… But I just have a feeling that this is going to turn into something bigger than usual…”

“Why? Grant is nothing more than a bully and a thug… He can’t do anything…”

Drake was silent for a moment, but then let out a soft sigh.

“Grant has been seen with some shady characters… Some people have reason to believe he is with a drug cartel… If that is the case, then we could be in for some trouble, but those are just rumors, so I could not be sure.”

That sentence was met by silence. Lyra was stroking her hair absentmindedly, and then looked over at Drake. He was the figure of a white goth. So dark and ominous, yet kind and calm. He did not dress like the black goths. He kept to white clothing. She never asked him why though. Lyra was a classic good-girl with her knee-long skirts, and modest blouse. Lyra could plainly show her love for Drake. Drake on the other hand, was so deeply in love with Lyra, but he had trouble showing it sometimes. He beat himself up on the inside because somehow she kept loving him, even though he was so harsh sometimes. He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel as he drove. He knew he had to be more affectionate.

(Later, at Lyra’s House)

Drake pulled into the driveway and placed the car into park. He looked over at Lyra, who was still playing with her hair. She turned to him and smiled. His heart lept into his throat every time he looked at her, yet the expression on his face never changed. He decided to smile back.

“Drake… you are smiling? Bigger than usual… Is there something wrong?”

Drake suddenly was surprised and then went back to his other expression, a bead of sweat dripping off his brow.

“What? Eh… er.. Its nothing…”

He turned to her again, seeing her face gave him another heart attack. He really was in love with her. He suddenly leaned forward to her and stroked her hair.

“Lyra… I just want you to know… that I love you so much… Every time I look at you, my heart does backflips. It has been 2 years already… We are seniors too… Graduation day is just around the corner… To be honest… I do not see myself being with anyone but you for the rest of my life…”

“Aww Drake!!”

Lyra hugged him warmly and then looked at him, cupping her hands about his face. He smiled genuinely at that moment, and then leaned to her, taking her soft lips in his own and kissed her as more passionately and tenderly as he had ever done before, caressing her neck softly, and suckling her top lip ever so gently. After the moment had passed, she drew away, tears in her eyes. She spoke with a somewhat of a trembling tone.

“Drake… I am so happy… You make me the happiest when I am around you… I do not want to lose that… Stay with me… forever…”

“I will…”

(Later, just before Twilight)

[Grant] “Look… there they are… Remember what I said… If we do not get the job done.. then we are done-for ourselves…”

Those dropped tones came from a nearby brush at the drive-in movie theater. Lyra and Drake were the last ones to leave, but they stopped for a short break at the main kiosk. Drake exited the Corvette and looked through the window at Lyra with a smile.

“I will be right back, I just gotta use the restroom… Dont go anywhere.”

With a roguish wink, he went to the mens room.

It was quiet for a few moments. Lyra began to play with her hair absentmindedly once again.

“Hello again cutie…” The voice of Grant was right in her ear through the Corvette window.

The feeling of complete shock and fear froze her. She wanted to scream, but she only felt numb and helpless. She could not even take a breath to do so. She only let out a hoarse yelp when the gang of men opened the door and grabbed hold of her. They beat her, amidst muffled screams and tired gasps of air.

Drake walked out of the mens room to see what was occurring. His eyes widened and he heard the hoarse cry for his name coming from the mangled Lyra. Red streaks ran across his vision, and a thunderous battle-cry ripped from his vocal cords. He lost consciousness to the beast inside. He was seeing red. The group of thugs looked bewildered at Drake, and Grant yelled to them. “She’s finished! Kill Drake!”

Those words resounded through Drake’s mind, ‘She’s finished…’ With a demonic tone and a deadly gleam in his eye, a voice ripped from Drake’s throat that would shred steel,GRAAAAANT!!! YOU WILL NOT WALK AWAY ALIVE!!! NONE OF YOU BASTARDS!!!

A thug rushed him dumbly, but was quickly dispatched with a heavy kick in the sternum, sending him into respiratory shock as he sailed several feet away. Another of the four thugs came in with another, trying to double-team him. One grabbed his arm, and the other landed a punch to Drake’s stomach. The other thug rushed into him as Grant picked up a nearby metal pipe. Drake headbutted the thug holding onto him and then aimed a kick squarely on the jaw of the thug that was rushing him. He then turned to the thug that had punched him in the stomach, and saw him already swinging for his face. Drake ducked quickly and grabbed his testicles, twisting them hard without remorse, and then grabbing his throat with his other hand, and with a deft maneuver, snapped his neck, killing him instantly. Grant saw what happened, and then hit Drake in the spine with the metal pipe. Drake yelled in pain and hit the dusty ground, but then shot a steely glare to Grant, that made him shudder. Grant lost his nerve, the true coward coming out of him. He backed up a step, trying to regain his nerves, but fell over the dead body of  his former comrade. Drake stood and walked forward to Grant slowly, the heels from his steel-toe boots striking the ground with purpose, and blood running from his mouth. He stomped on a nearby unconscious thug directly on the temple and splattered his brains upon the ground, the thug suddenly making a gurgling sound through the rend flesh. Drake picked up the metal pipe and faced Grant, his eyes burning red like angry volcanoes, with his hands and shirt bloodied. He was the complete picture of the Harbinger of Death. Grant stuttered to plea for his life.

“Wait… please… stop… I dont want to die… I’m sorry!”

Drake stopped for a moment, looking directly at Grant with that same deadly intent. “Did you stop when Lyra begged for mercy? Did you GIVE A SHIT?? YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING PIECE OF SCUM!! YOU KILLED THE ONLY THING LEFT I HAD TO LIVE FOR!!! SEE YOU IN HELL!!!

Grant screamed just before the metal pipe shot through his throat and ended his life with a wet crunch. A bloody slurry of bone, flesh, and blood was pooling around the deceased forms.

“Lyra….” Drake kneeled beside her mangled form, bringing her head close to his. Shaking her gently, as if she were simply awake.

“Please speak to me… At least say something…”

Silence, the most painful silence ever. Drake felt empty. His heart was burst, and he was fading out fast. Cold rushed to his body, and the last thing he saw through that tunnel vision were the tears that Lyra had shed, sparkling red and blue off her swollen cheeks.

(That Next Morning)

‘beep…beep….beep…beep’ The sound of the EKG machine was the first thing that Drake recognized out of the fuzzy light. A blurred face hovered over him and shined light into his eyes. He finally focused his vision and heard the sound of the Doctor’s voice.

“Drake… Drake… are you there… come on buddy. Say something… Do you know where you are?”

Drake squinted at the light that the doctor held and pushed it away.

“Where is Lyra… Where is she? Lyra…”

The doctor patted his shoulder and spoke with a low tone, making sure to carefully place his words.

“Ah… the girl… She was beaten up so badly, she lost a lot of blood, and she suffered internal bleeding, but EMS arrived on the scene just in time to resuscitate her back to life, but she may not make it… She is in a coma…”

Drake did not know whether to feel blessed or cursed. Lyra was dead in his arms… but he suffered through that.. but now he realizes that he may have to see her die again. How can he cope with that reality? ‘There is a chance…’ A voice rang in his head. He looked to the doctor with the most penetrating glare, but full of sincerity.

“I want to see her…”

The doctor hesitated, but then spoke somewhat firmly, turning around.

“Nobody is allowed in her room, and you are in such bad shape, you cannot go see her.”

The EKG machine’s alarms started to go off, which caused the doctor to look puzzled and somewhat frightened. The doctor looked back at Drake to see him leaning forward, latching onto the front of his scrub. Drake’s voice was pleading, and full of determination, with a hint of aggressiveness.

“I want to see her… NOW…”

Moments later, Drake was limping into Lyra’s room with an IV attatched from his arm to a bag hanging from a rollabout hook, followed by the doctor that was tending to him. He stopped after seeing her. He saw the bandages, the bruises, and the slow ascending and descending of her chest. He shook his head and looked to the ground, taking a deep breath. His face grew warm, and his eyes welled up with tears. Drake cried, both tears of joy, and of pain. He looked up to where Lyra was laid with eyes fogged up with tears. He slowly limped to her bedside. He leaned over her and stroked her hair in the same fashion that he had done just hours earlier, his hand shaking. He spoke silently to himself.

“Lyra… If I could… I would give my life in exchange for yours… I would give you a gift of life, in order that you may walk with me, hand in hand, once again. God… Please help her… She has done no wrong… Help her…”

Drake broke down into tears once again, and sobbed openly over her. He leaned down and kissed her still lips.

Nothing.

Pain coursed through his head, but he kissed her one last time, as his tears coursed down his face. But this time… she kissed back.

“Drake…”

“Lyra…”

[End]