Coaster

Chapter Two:

River of Bones

Hello again, I come bearing fic! Ha ha. Okay. Just to get this out now, THIS FANFIC HAS A SPOILER. But it's for the chapters around 279-ish, okay? So if you've read that far, it's all good. It's not essential to the plot or anything, so if you haven't read that far… it's alright. It only really comes up in a later chapter anyway.

Oh dear… The spoiler is in the summary… Oh well, you won't know what I'm talking about specifically… I hope.

Note number two: The title of this fic is a band that played at our school Battle of the Bands, who rock immensely and have very inspiring music. All chapter titles are the songs from the CD I got from them. Yay! If you know what I'm talking about here, go you!

Note number three: Sorry about the long delay, I wasn't quite sure where to cut this chapter off, because I have to fit this into just five chapters- and I have a lot more to write. Ah well… I guess it isn't too big of a deal if I go over by a chapter or two… is it?

And now, without further ado, I give you-

A femur there, radius and ulna here- these were his beacons, his guiding lights… strange as they were. As Faust carefully walked along, horrid thoughts plagued him from all sides. What lay in eternal afterlife if he should succeed? Was paradise truly paradise if Eliza wasn't there? Was it worth the trials that surely await to earn an endless lifetime? Oh, Eliza! Oh what bright and pure knowing star! She would know what to do, what to think… But God forbid she should ever come to this place!

But perhaps the eternal hereafter wasn't so bad, if he could be with his beloved wife. If indeed only Hell was left for him- the only place he was destined- what was the point of going on? What would happen if he were to simply lay here, curl up and wait for his soul to be destroyed by whatever demons roamed this pitch dark nothingness? No! That would be giving in! Eliza- his sweet, sweet Eliza- he couldn't let her down!

And so his mind ran in endless circles; marathons of indecision.

-*-

Hours had passed, though how Faust could tell in this moonless, starless sky was beyond him. But he was sure of this fact. And as he grew accustomed to walking uncertainly in total blindness, Faust took his steps with increasing confidence. Fortunately, it appeared that the end of this tunnel was drawing closer; he could tell that the space in front of him was growing brighter and a bit more welcoming. Faust, now able to see better, braved letting go of the bone wall and making a run for it, looking for relief from this monotonous, disquieting darkness.

-*-

Faust broke through the web of pitch night, and suddenly it was bright (comparatively) and he could hear a crowd of voices. While normally he preferred to be alone in quiet solitude, now he craved human interaction almost as much as he craved morphine…. Almost.

When he reached the other souls (they weren't spirits), however, it was anything but welcoming. Faust could feel every eye upon him, just as in life- branding him with their stares. He paused at the weight of it. Where before the clamor was comforting, now the whispers were deafening.

"Murderer." Faust heard someone- everyone- say. He felt their eyes on his gouged arms, proof of his suicidal thoughts, and wished he could hide them… but it was too late. Faust had thought that 'they' would be like him. He was gravely mistaken.

However, one girl (who was younger than him) walked up when the others wouldn't. Faust suddenly knew she was a rapist, though he didn't know why- he just did. A quick glance at her arms showed that unlike him, she hadn't wanted to die at such a young age. The next glance made him start a bit: her face was tinged an unsettling shade of green. The girl caught him staring, but instead of getting ashamed, she merely flippantly explained.

"Oh, that. I suspect it's from the gas chamber."

Faust nodded grimly. As a doctor, he knew exactly what that would be like. And as a… murderer… he only narrowly escaped it himself, many times. She continued by introducing herself.

"My name was- is Ashlee. Ashlee Bixel."

"Faust. Johann Faust the eighth."

"Hmm. I've heard about you from somewhere, Faust."

"I suspect you have; in your history books, my ancestor may be mentioned."

"Ah. That's it. Well, Faust…"

He used to flinch at the sound of it- his own last name!- but so many people called him that (was it to serve as an incorrigible reminder?) that he was accustomed to it by now. Upon hearing his name, some of the onlookers made the sign of the cross, while most others looked away or stepped back a bit.

What he didn't know was that it mainly wasn't his name or his suicidal and homicidal tendencies that caused the other souls to shun him so; it was his hostile madness that, like a flame, flickered in the back of his mind. It was obvious in his eyes, dull as they were. But Faust would never see it; after all, madness is its own mask.

They were still looking over their shoulders or down their noses at them, as if they were any better than him. Well, that was a sin in its own right… But he tuned back into reality as Ashlee began to strike up conversation. "What do you think of this place? Why are we here?"

"It's charming. Really." He deadpanned, taking even more emotion out of his voice than he usually did, which was saying a lot. Ashlee smiled a bit, tilting her head to the side, and then grimaced as she had to brush her strawberry blond hair from her eyes. "As for why… I think that's something special to us all. A friend of mine once said: If there are a hundred people, there are a hundred different dreams."

"Well said."

"Thank him, not me." Faust's expression saddened at the thought that he might never see any of his friends again… How was the fight going topside? Would he drag them down unknowingly by being here? He surely hoped not. He shook his head to dispel such thoughts, as they would only make it harder to focus on getting out of here. "…Why does it reek of blood in here?" Ashlee looked at him oddly.

"Blood?"

Faust blushed.

"I'm a doctor, I'd know that scent anywhere."

"Ah."

He decided that just standing here, surrounded by people that didn't know him, but already hated him, was a bad idea. Without waiting to see if Ashlee would follow, he strode through the crowd, parting them easily. In this brighter area, he could see the bone walls more clearly. They weren't like the elegant bone churches that occasionally graced the world. They were haphazardly arranged, as if some god or devil had picked up handfuls and smashed them into the walls and left them where they fell- sometimes even shattered beyond recognition.

But Faust's eyes didn't linger on the walls for long. He was more used to bones than most everyone here, after all. It was rather the great silvery lake that's shine caught his attention. He slowed his pace and took his time taking it in. It was easily the vastest lake he had ever seen, and certainly the most morbid. But why was the blood- for that's surely what it was- such a metallic color? As he drew closer the smell grew more powerful, almost making him swoon with it.

Its hypnotically writhing waves beckoned him closer, and Faust went and kneeled beside it. The lake of blood went on from wall to wall; there was no way to get around it. He looked closer at it, only to be confronted with a terrible apparition of horror. He started back, breaking eye contact with the thing. But a second ventured look shocked him: it was his own face staring back. A reflection. Faust put a hand over his mouth in astonishment. His guess had been correct; his eyes were duller, the circles under them far darker than the rest of his skin. His skin was just as transparent as everywhere else, but his lips had gone from asphyxiated blue to a shiny coal black.

Astounded, Faust reached out a hand to touch the reflection and see if it wasn't another trick. That was a big mistake. It was as if the full consciousness of this Tartarus filled his head, a whorl of knowledge that he'd rather not have. Abominations of God, aberrations of life; this blood was of the damned, shed from swords of righteousness many aeons ago. His brain was absolutely teeming with madness.

Faust fell back a second after he first touched the surface, dry heaving from sheer overwhelming knowledge. He knew everything, and yet nothing that he wanted or needed to know. When Faust was finally able, he looked up and across the lake for the first time. His eyes widened impossibly as the very things his mind now knew were there, mocking him with their corrupted existence. They were horrors beyond imagining- yet it seemed that only he could see it. Ashlee mused aloud that maybe they should cross it, but he managed to croak out, "No." in a ragged voice. At the tone of it, she nodded in understanding. Mayhap it was only those who touched the lake could know… But whatever it was, nothing good lay in this room, so they left, heading back the way they came.

So… I feel quite a bit more accomplished with this chapter. I hope its imagery will help you envision the foul place as I do… Please tell me what you think!

(And don't forget to check out my LiveJournal with the same name as my penname here! I have stories there that I decided not to put on .)