Chapter two, yay! I actually wrote down the details of this chapter on a paper so there wouldn't be any holes in the story. Pay attention, because some of the details will be important. I think. Sorry this one's short. The next one will probably be shorter, though. After that, though, things will get longer.
Well, here we go! Enjoy chapter 2!
Craig sighed in relief.
"Token?" he asked, looking for his friend. The darkness still enveloped him, though, and he could see nothing. He shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. It didn't even make a difference. He knew something was wrong. If he was still in school, then it wouldn't be this dark. He would at least be able to see the familiar shape of his hand in front of his face if he were still there.
Token's voice came through again.
"You're late."
This was the second time he had been informed of his tardiness. It was peculiar-was someone expecting him someplace?
Craig racked his brain. He was a forgetful boy—like most teenagers—but he really couldn't recall making any sort of plans for today. Today was just an ordinary day.
Well, until 12:33, at least.
"What am I late for. And why does everyone keep saying that." Craig asked—sort of- his voice ringing out in the silence. It gave him comfort, like he had company. Of course, Token was there, but Craig really needed to verify that he himself was there, before he could take in anyone else.
The darkness was that convincing. He wasn't even sure if he existed anymore.
But wait. What was that?
Craig began to see a shape forming in front of him. It was if a blind man had gotten surgery and got his sight back. It was barely visible, but he began to identify the familiar figure before him. The long, slender appendages wiggled in greeting as his eyes adjusted to the light.
His fingers! He could see again!
Along with his fingers, everything else came into view. He looked down, and realized he was standing on a tile floor. The black and white pieces of clay were grimy and murky, as if they hadn't been scrubbed in ages. Next to him was a table with a small box on it, along with a small metal object Craig placed as a key.
"Craig..." Token's voice made Craig turn around.
It was definitely not what he had expected.
His friend lay there, battered and bruised, with blood trickling out in a stream on the side of his mouth. The whole right side of his face was smeared in red, too, and his eyes were swollen and purple. His body lay limp, slumped against the plain black wall at an odd angle. Craig realized that his bones were broken in looking at his contorted body.
"What happened. Who did this to you." he looked at Token's body, a grimace forming on his face. Automatically, he felt guilty. For some reason, it felt rude to be disgusted at Token's appearance, so he tried to plaster on something else. It didn't seem to work, though, because Token's eyes flashed in agitation, like they normally did when he was annoyed or frustrated with his peers' ignorance.
"Don't be late." he choked out. "Or this will happen to you."
Craig grew more and more impatient and exasperated by the second. What the hell was he late for?
"Can I help."
Token shook his head. "There's nothing you can do...they'll get you..."
"Who."
"He's so mad, and he's so angry..."
"What the hell are you talking about. Token, dude, it's me. Just tell me who the hell beat you up."
"There's no time for that." Token said. He shifted over awkwardly, spitting up blood everywhere in the process—including on Craig's shirt. The space where he lay before was uncovered to reveal a small door, not much bigger than one a cat would go through.
"There's never enough time..." he murmured. "Now...take the key and go through the door..."
"Why the fuck would I do that. And why the fuck did they hurt you."
"I didn't let him through, at first." Token answered. "I thought that life in our world would be so much better without them. I was a fool, and I told them 'No. Not this time...' and one went mad and the other lost his temper."
"Okay, I officially have no idea what the fuck you're telling me." Craig informed him dully.
"Just...go through the door." Token rasped.
"I won't fit." Craig retorted.
"The box." Token pointed a weak, bloody hand at the table. "Take the key and then eat something in the box..."
Craig looked for another way out. He was not going through that door. He wasn't going to get involved any more than this. He needed to get back to class and take notes.
But there wasn't a door in sight.
"This is impossible..." Craig whispered, taking the key and opening the box.
It was filled with small cookies and sweets. Hmm. Maybe this day wasn't as bad as he thought.
Craig ate one without a second thought.
He absorbed the flavor—kind of pasty, in a way, but not bad at all. It was very sweet—almost too much so—and it reeked of vanilla, but it wasn't all bad.
"Good cookies." he noted.
Craig froze. His voice was very high-pitched all of a sudden.
He looked and realized he was much closer to the floor now. Had he shrunk?
"How..." he began, but trailed off. Craig wasn't necessarily scared, or fearful in any way. It was intriguing. A cookie that made you smaller? Interesting.
"Everyone has madness." Token's voice boomed louder now. "The cookie didn't really make you smaller. Your madness made you think that it did."
"Madness?"
"Use it wisely." Token said. "If you abuse it, the way he does, you're not going to last a second."
"Who's...he?"
"There's no time! Get moving, kid!" he shouted, reaching over and pushing a now two-foor-tall Craig to the door.
Flustered, Craig put the key in the door after a lot of protesting. Token had insisted that he'd be late if he didn't, so he finally gave in and opened the door, crawling through.
"God, not this again." he muttered at the pitch-black in front of him. The texture of the tile flooring reassured him that it was indeed still there. He could again hear faint laughter, but, again, he didn't know where it came from. As he walked down the small space, he thought about what Token said.
He's so mad, and he's so angry...
Who was the "he" that Token was talking about? Whoever they were, they were most likely, on some level, either insane or evil. Token wouldn't ever dare to do something insulting to anyone—that proved that "he" did it on his own accord.
I thought that life in our world would be so much better without them. I was a fool, and I told them 'No. Not this time...'
And what was his "world?" Had Token gone crazy? Was this all some big joke on Craig, that everyone knew about but him?
Not this time.
That had to mean that this had happened before. Whoever "he" was, he had gone through this door many times.
Everyone has madness...
Craig wasn't insane. Not that he knew of. He never recalled having any sort of delusions or any thoughts that would be out of the ordinary for your average male adolescent. He supposed, to some extent, Token's statement was true. Everyone had some insanity in them, whether it was some crazy thought or action now and then or some obsession. He didn't know anyone who was completely devoid of quirks.
Use it wisely...
This was the part that Craig couldn't comprehend. He had to use his madness wisely? How was that possible, anyway?
Craig frowned. He hated cryptic messages.
As he thought, he hardly noticed that the tile beneath him had vanished.
He was falling, fast.
In realizing this, the raven screamed as loud as he possibly could, hoping someone would hear him. The laughter continued, and the screams that were escaping his mouth rattled the inside of his skull. All the thoughts got jumbled up like alphabet soup in his mind as he continued to fall for what seemed like hours. He flipped over a few times, and it took all of the little composure he had left not to retch.
Finally, he hit something that wasn't air.
But it wasn't ground, either.
It was sticky and had a sharp taste, almost like metal in his mouth, Craig realized, because he hadn't closed his mouth. The liquid began to overpower him, and Craig flailed around, trying to breathe. The dark liquid seeped over his head, and Craig felt his lungs fill with it. His arms seemed to be determined to get back to the surface. They waved around, treading...whatever the surrounding mass was, and they were doing their absolute best to try and keep Craig alive. But it was no use. It was as if the surface had disappeared, and all that was left was this sea of blood.
Yes, blood. Craig realized it as he began to sink downward, letting it suffocate him. He had given up, and this was the end. He would meet his demise in a sea of blood, dazed and confused, not knowing what the hell was going on. This is how Craig Tucker would perish. Involved in something he never wanted to be involved in in the first place.
What a great way to die.
He waited. Waited for the blood to finally kill him. Waited for his conscience to drift away.
But nothing happened. He floated there, just waiting.
Then, a miracle happened. Craig felt a pair of arms pull his own up. They were shaky and weak, but enough to get Craig back up to the now existent surface.
He gasped for air sharply. His lungs exploded as he coughed up blood, blood, and more blood. It went everywhere. Craig looked at his location. He was still in the blood-sea, but there was a beach nearby. On the beach were people, huddled in a circle around a fire. They were all looking over at him, eyes wide. Craig's eyes stung from the seemingly blinding sunlight that burned into his skin. After they adjusted, he turned around to look at who saved him.
"Are you o-okay?"
Hee hee hee! I made Token the metaphorical door guy, like in the movie. :D
Based on the clues I gave you, who do you think is Craig's rescuer? And who the hell is laughing?
Leave me a review with your predictions. I can't wait to get your reviews. They make me really, really, really, really (keep saying "really" for about as much time as it takes me to update my other story x.x) happy!
I can't wait to get enough juice in my brain to write the next chapter. :D