LOLITA.
xii. | ❝ princess. ❞

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"READY?" SHANE SMIRKED as he leaned against the side of the car, his intent gaze snagging that of the strawberry blonde beauty, who simply nodded in response and mirrored his cocky expression.

"Always, Officer Not-So-Friendly."

The pair approached the tall fence that kept the small farmhouse mostly obscured from the view of passers-by and made a beeline for the metal gate, which had been left ajar. Cassandra went in first, her slender fingers gripping her knife and her warm, mahogany orbs roaming the empty half-acre of sun-scorched grass attentively. The curly-haired deputy was just a few steps behind her, gun raised and a furrow at his brow. And yet, no matter how much he tried to focus on the job in hand, he couldn't help but admire the doe-eyed beauty who stood before him. Her confidence and the sheer grace with which she carried herself entranced him to the point where he began questioning his own sanity.

After a thorough sweep of the grounds and the farmhouse itself, both Shane and Cassandra had deemed it safe to settle in - but not before checking a large wooden shed near the fence for weapons and supplies.

It was locked from the inside, and the pair simply shot each other a look of confusion, pausing momentarily before the deputy took a few steps back and ran at the door, shouldering it with such force that it came clean off its hinges and fell on the grimy floor with a thud.

Pausing to catch his breath, Shane rubbed his arm and rotated it slightly, feeling it click into place as he raised his gun and tried to ignore the throbbing pain that seeped through his muscles with vigorous intent.

A quiet groan was heard from within the dimly-lit shed, and Shane stepped inside cautiously, glancing around expectantly. It didn't take long for the heady stench of rotting flesh to hit him, his chiselled features scrunching up to form a look of utter repulsion as he covered his nose and mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes growing accustomed to the semi-darkness and spotting the source of the pervading miasma.

Suspended in mid-air was a man who wasn't much older than Shane himself, a rope wrapped around his neck and a string of low growls and snarls leaving his parted lips. At his feet lay two girls; unmoving, and surrounded by a pool of dark, dried blood.

"Holy fuck...." Shane averted his eyes as he stepped over the two corpses, tucking his gun inside the waistband of his trousers and unsheathing his knife. His actions were rapid and smooth as he reached up, plunging the blade into the skull of the flailing geek, then leaving it to hang limply from the ceiling.

He pulled back after a few moments and took a few deep breaths, his chest tightening as he reluctantly allowed his gaze to wander to the two young girls. Both were blonde, but the blood and dirt that matted their hair made the colour nearly impossible to distinguish. One appeared to be around Cassandra's age - maybe even a little younger - and the other couldn't have been much more than a toddler. If it wasn't for their rapidly decomposing bodies and blood stained clothes, one would almost think they were sleeping.

He pressed his fist against his mouth, biting down on his knuckle and willing himself not to cry. Beside them lay a carelessly discarded rifle and two empty shells, which he suspected the father had ended his daughters lives with. And yet, despite everything, he couldn't find it in him to hate this man for what he had done. For some, there was just no hope. Only fear.

"Shane?"

His head snapped around immediately. "Stay outside," he choked out, but Cassandra took no heed.

The pretty redhead stepped inside the shed hesitantly, her chocolate-brown orbs instantly catching sight of the hanging man, and then travelling down to the two young girls who lay on the floor.

"Oh-" A mortified gasp left her plump, rosy lips, and Shane sprang in front of her instinctively, enveloping her in his arms and pulling her head to his chest in an attempt to shield her from the heart-wrenching scene before them. A coarse, blood-spattered hand found itself tangled in her soft auburn curls, stroking her scalp reassuringly.

Cassandra, in the meantime, had finally allowed her emotions to get the better of her. A single tear dribbled down her cheek - and it wasn't just because of the three bodies that lay ingrained in her mind's eye, motionless and entirely lacking the precious heartbeat that separated the living from the dead.

She was crying because the survivor's guilt was slowly beginning to kick in. She fisted her fingers against her companion's collar, somewhat revelling in the comfort of his embrace as she recalled what happened at the very beginning - before she met Shane, before she found herself wandering the woods alone, back when her one aim was to stay alive, no matter what the cost.

"Why...?" It slipped from between her lips like a softly-spoken lament, almost swallowed by the rough fabric of Shane's button-down shirt.

A quiet sigh escaped Shane's lips as he squeezed his eyes shut and held her just a bit tighter in his arms, considering the strawberry blonde's question.

Eventually, he spoke, his voice low and his chest rumbling against the brown-eyed beauty's tear-stained cheek. "Because some people.... They opted out, princess."

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