Sonic Series Fan Fiction ❯ Trust ❯ Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Sonic characters. They belong to those SEGA dudes with all the moola…

Eh, no author's thoughts this chapter. ;P

Chapter 5

Two weeks later…

Long black quills swayed softly in the soft wind that flowed from a large fan, its blades turning lazily in a lackadaisical fashion. Dark blue eyes dilated to the size of dimes as the hedgehog studied himself in the mirror, gawking at the sight of his quills hanging limp to his waist dripping with cool water chilled from the osculating fan.

"What have you done to me?" he asked in a hushed whisper, diverting his angry blue eyes towards the other occupant of the room, a pink hedgehog with vibrant emerald eyes. She frowned, setting down the bottle of dye she used to darken the rather unsettling crimson streaks that dominated his quills.

"I'm doing this because I want to protect you from authorities. You know that they will apprehend you if they spotted you on the streets. With this disguise, however, they won't know that it's you."

"Eh, well I still don't like this." He muttered, running a bandaged right hand through his wet `hair'. With a discontented sigh he looked at his arms and legs, all stained dark ebony from the dye. His white tuft of chest hair remained untouched, at least for the time being…

"Well, that's the way it is Mach."

"Mach?" Shadow's brow shot upward.

"Yes, Mach. You need an alias. When you go outside of this house your name is Mach. Got it?"

He shrugged. "Got it. Yet, I really don't see what you're doing this for me. You didn't have to you know."

Amy smiled, setting her slender hand on his bruised left shoulder, totally unbeknownst to the fact that she hurt him terribly just by doing so.

"I do this because I want to. You're my friend Shadow, my buuuuuudy."

"Eh, but why did you make me resemble Sonic?"

Emerald eyes narrowed to a dangerous level.

How can he know what Sonikku looks like is he has amnesia?

"Um, how do you know what he looks like?"

"Well there's a picture of him with you on the mantle over the fireplace. On the back of the photo is says Sonic and Me." His face hardened, almost as if he were feeling unbearably uncomfortable with the situation at hand. Amy's scrutinizing stare faltered, softening slowly and causing the hedgehog to relax.

The pink hog' grabbed a towel off the toilet and handed it to him, instructing him to dry himself off, which he did quickly, making sure that he didn't bother his left shoulder. Amy had no recollection of writing a small message on a photograph of Sonic and herself; she didn't even remember if she had a photo such as this!

With hurried steps she dashed in the living room, scanning the photographs on the mantle inaudibly. There, on the far left edge was the photograph Shadow was talking about. It was framed in crystal, indicating that this was a very special to its owner. Sonic's look in the photo was absolutely priceless; his eyes were bulging out of their sockets as Amy `glomped' him from behind, wrapping her surprisingly limber arms around his almost nonexistent neck. The hedgehog had to smile at this as she remembered the day it happened vividly-but this was no time for reminiscent thoughts such as this. There was more important work to be done. Amy quickly grabbed the frame off of the mantle and extracted the photograph out of it. With slanted eyes she flipped the photo over and looked for the writing that Shadow mentioned earlier. There, on the back of the photograph was the words Sonic and Me written with a black Sharpie marker.

So, Shadow wasn't lying…

Then she noticed something. There was something strange about the handwriting. She examined it more closely, bringing the photo up to her face. After a couple seconds of inspecting it she finally knew what it was. The handwriting wasn't hers! She knew her writing; it was big and rather loopy and she never really wrote in print anymore except when she needed to. Yet, this script was different. It was small and neat with sharp lettering and simple, yet furious strokes. It was also written in print, something she definitely did not do. There was also something else wrong with this picture; she could still smell the rank scent of the marker used. The photo was taken about 5 years ago but the aroma of the marker was fresh, as if it were written just yesterday. She knew that the smell wore off in about a month on just about anything so who wrote this?

Was it…Shadow?

"I'm not a liar."

Amy spun around, finding Shadow standing behind her, a furious expression marring his slender face.

"What?"

"I'm not a liar! Now I hope that you can see the truth!" He dropped the towel that he still held in his ungloved hands, allowing the fluffy fabric to drift to the floor in a forgotten pile. He quickly turned on his heels and stormed away, slightly limping on account of the stiffness in his joints. A bright red flush crept upon Amy's full cheekbones soon after his departure. All of the prior thoughts about the handwriting had left her; all she could think about was him.

Why was I being so suspicious? So doubtful? Why was I being so mean?

As she stood there embarrassed and ashamed the crystal photo frame fell out of her hands, falling and crashing to the ground in a shattered mess, breaking into a million pieces and reflecting the broken spirit of its owner.

0_0 This chapter scares me… I just made the whole `Sharpie marker smell thingy' up BUT I DO think that the horrid smell DOES linger for a couple days on some things…