I was nearly bursting with excitement. After waiting so long, the day was finally here. Today was the end of the year field trip. If you lived in New York, going to the Natural History Museum might not be such a big deal, but from a Floridian's perspective? It was amazing!
Snapping up from my excited reverie, I was quick to notice two things. The first being my group was nowhere in sight. Earlier we had divided into groups of a least four, but I seem to have wandered abroad. Secondly, I was hopelessly, hilariously lost. I found myself in a long, empty corridor, devoid of any school children at all. Not wanting to remain alone, I turned into the first available room. Gleaming gems surrounded me, neatly placed in glass cases in a grid like fashion. Wandering through these treasures, I came to a sudden halt.
Lying in what I could only guess was the middle of the room, a rock sat, velvet ropes posing pathetic protection. Unlike its brothers, this stone didn't gleam or sparkle, it was just your basic, gray rock. Symbols edged the sides, carved from many years ago. Ignoring obvious warnings, I yearned to touch it, to feel its rough sides, to trace the ruins carved so long ago. Stepping forward, I pushed aside its meager protection, laying my hands on its surface. I was positive I imagined it, yet blue light seemed to flash through the carvings, if only for an instant.
"Step away," someone growled deeply from behind me. Fearing security I immediately lifted my hands from it. I turned around, thoroughly expecting the reproachful expression of an employee, was shocked speechless at what stood in front of me.
Dozens of swords were aimed directly at my throat. Dirty men, no, pirates, were at the ends, seemingly have appeared from nowhere. At their lead, a man with long, filthy black hair, a rather impressive moustache, and an old fashioned red coat grinned quite evilly. He rolled his shoulders back, leaning with the movement, and creating a rather distastefully popping noise.
"Free at last," he murmured, apparently to himself. Suddenly he turned to his men, whose swords never faltered from my bare neck, "TO LONG," he roared, "Have we been stuck on that god-forsaken island, TOO LONG have we lived, yet never quite living. TOO long have we spent our time, chasing those ridiculous boys. Too long."
His men roared in approval, evidently satisfied.
"After we leave this infernal labyrinth, we'll storm this world as we did the last!" he shouted.
That didn't sound good.
"Take the witch, she could prove use."
It took me a second to register he was talking about me before a grimy hand gripped my shoulder. The pirate who grabbed me pressed a knife to my throat and forced me forward, following his captain and other crew members down the endless corridors. The captain seemed just as lost as I was, though he tried to act like he knew what he was doing. We emerged into the center chamber, stair cases flanking either side. They led to separate upstairs areas, each sporting a landing that lead to more exhibits. We had come from one of three entrances to this area. The pirates looked around, wary of such a big space.
From the entrance directly across from us, a party emerged. They were dressed oddly, men in loincloths and women bare dresses. Leading them was a young woman with twin braids flowing over either shoulder. Indians. The young woman shouted, pointing at the pirates. I was momentarily forgotten, abandoned for the greater threat.
The two groups clashed, awaiting no signal or threat. It seemed to be a common occurrence, the way they melded into one individual group of battle. Tomahawks clashed with swords and guns fired haphazardly. I quickly turned away as the first blood stained the floor. A wonder if I had also released the Indians tickled my mind as I hurried to locate my companions.
Hearing my general noise of children, I followed it up the right hand staircase, twisting through corridors until I found them. They laughed and joked, uninterested in any of the exhibits. They many walls shielded them from any sounds of battle, leaving them oblivious. Some turned at my entrance, others ignored my completely. Attempting to catch my breath, I fell to my knees with the effort. This did capture attention, and soon all of my classmates surrounded me. Blonde curls fell into my eyes as I tried to explain what I had seen.
"Fighting," I gasped, "The center hall. Pirates. Indians. We have to stop them…"
Considering me delirious, their brows furrowed, whispering to one another. A leaderly boy came forward, tall and charismatic he was known to have sway over the others. Christopher, I remembered, his name was Christopher.
"What's wrong?" he seemed confused, for I was never this outspoken.
"There are pirates in the second hall- and- and Indians. And they're fighting," I took a deep, shuttering breath before continuing, "I don't know why. I- I got lost, and they found me. The pirates. They- they said they would t- take this world by storm. We can't let them leave."
He stared at me incredulously.
"Be quiet," I instructed, and when no one paid mind, "QUIET! Can't you hear them?"
Everyone fell silent, and to their surprise, the clang of battle and shouts of war flooded through the chamber. Christopher stared at me, mouth agape.
"We have to stop them," I pleaded, trying to appeal to him. He could convince the others in need be.
Curiosity overcoming, the children ran out to the landing. Looking over the rails, battle raged below. Some were shocked, for the development was quite odd. Others looked quite sick, for bodies lie strewn across the floor. Roughly six dozen pirates remained, and an equal amount of Indians. They were still deeply locked in combat.
An Indian shouted, pointing up at us. A tomahawk flew up, imbedding itself in the wall inches from a girl's head. She squeaked and scurried back into the hall, out of range.
A new determination seemed to gleam in Christopher's eyes as they looked to him for guidance, wordlessly electing him their leader. No other people, children or adult, had been seen. Whether dead or fled, we were alone, "We have to fight back," it dawned on him what I had seen, that it was their only option. We would die at their hands or them ours.
I am extensively grateful for your patience throughout this chapter. No, Peter has not yet appeared, but patience is a virtue. He will soon come. I would LOVE a review, so if you have the time to read this, spare a second to scrawl what you think? Thaaank you my dahlings.