It all happened suddenly and very quickly. I heard a suctioning sound from below me and felt my precious water draining away from my grasp. I gasped out in pain; the ocean was my home, and now he was taking that away from me, too. The water was fairly clairvoyant, so I vaguely saw that the others were looking over in curiosity as the special spell protected drain to my cell continued to steal my only comfort. I struggled against it by pulling as much of the salt water towards me as I could manage, only to feel it slip through my fingers, drop by drop. It was rapidly leaving me, the very last of it disappearing, before I could register what was happening.
I stood dripping while staring at the drain in shock, my hair hanging limply around my face as water droplets hit the ground. I sunk slowly to my knees, holding my toy against my chest with a force that would have broken my ribs, the freezing air foreign to me. I was pretty sure that I had forgotten how to walk and hoped that I could still float on solid ground. My Purgatory had just become Hell. I let myself recline in a seated position, dropping and letting my ball roll away from me, too in shock to keep tabs on which direction it went in. I couldn't understand; I felt vulnerable, which was ridiculous, since I no longer possessed a body and couldn't be physically harmed. So then, why had these feelings resurfaced? I suspected it to be a sort of premonition.
Complete stillness overcame me, and held me, even during Dana's tentative questions and the Jackal's mocking words. Call me self-centered, but I was kind of having a dilemma, at that time. Then, just as I thought that I was about to completely lose my composure; a whirring sound broke my brooding. There was also the sound of my ball bouncing frenziedly around and above from where I sat, but I was mostly unconcerned with the latter of the two. I went to stand, so that I could move towards the door, but my phantom limbs felt as if they were made of cement.
The sparks came before the pain did.
My hand twitched in response to the stabbing sensation that came at me from all angles. The stabbing was followed by the feeling of my insides being sucked out of me via hundreds of bendy straws piercing every inch of my being. I bit my lip and gripped the hem of my skirt to prevent the wail that was threatening to come from me, vividly remembering that I had not given Cyrus the satisfaction of hearing my screams, during my life. My toy did increase its speed, however, while encircling me in a blur of yellow as my spirit was absorbed slowly. My vision soon became blurry and I lost all of my remaining sensations, but I desperately held onto my form of consciousness, finally losing my vision while only slightly being aware of my surroundings.
But, then, something strange happened.
I felt myself become stronger as the electrical sparks averted their attention to the perimeter my toy was creating around me. They snapped and crackled, trying to absorb the other energy, which I weakly grinned at. I hadn't started with a plan, but now one was given to me, as a surprise. I figured the malicious sparks had absorbed half of both mine and my toy's energy, when they suddenly dissipated into the air, not returning.
I finally let a small sob out as the pain stubbornly lingered in me, but it couldn't be heard through the thunderous racket the Jackal was making. He was throwing himself against the walls at random and screaming nonsensical phrases at a volume I couldn't hear myself think at. I watched as Cyrus came running down the hall with the brown haired bitch in tow, eying the Jackal helplessly and then came to stare at me in utter shock. I'm sure he asked something along the lines of "Why are you still here?" but I couldn't hear him through the screaming. Easily annoyed by loud noises, I did my best to stomp over towards the wall of my cell that faced the Jackal's, pausing for a moment before testing my theory out.
"STOP IT!" I screamed in my head, drawing out the words, until silence answered me. I stared into his icy blue eyes, suddenly standing at my full height, facing him with my face inches away from the glass. I stared him down, for another long moment, before turning towards the two mortals.
"That," I said calmly, "is why I'm still here." The brown haired woman's eyes widened as she blatantly gawked at me. I crossed my arms and raised my brow at her, waiting expectantly for her reaction.
"Abyssus Ver..." She trailed off, giving me the perfect opportunity to interject.
"Hell's Spring; The Scorned Dreamer of the Red Zodiac." I finished, wanting to explain what was needed and get it over with. She took half a step forwards with curiosity painted on her odd glasses clad face.
"How do you...-" I sighed, again cutting her ignorant questions off, not at all wanting to deal with her.
"I gave my little brother the book of the Arcanum. I had, well...stolen it; from the history professor of the college I had been attending.
I won't say that I didn't feel bad-he had collected a life's savings and gone abroad for months just to acquire it. There was also the possibility of Cyrus being caught with the book and blamed, which was a bonus…
I had also taken the book of the Red Zodiac, but I held onto it, for reasons I didn't really understand. Now I realize that it was so he couldn't use the corresponding containment spells but, as always, I see he's found a way around that." I said, muttering the last part of the sentence irritably. The bitch continued to stare at me, and I pegged my ball at the level of the glass where her face was, causing her to stumble back a few steps.
"It's very rude to stare." I chided and then laughed as my toy ricocheted off the wall and through me. Cyrus seemed irritated that he had fallen away from the center of attention.
"You're one to talk about proper behavior, Iris, with all the children you've drowned." I frowned, confused at his convicting tone of voice. I remained calm, not at all irritated by his statement.
"Oh? I only did it to prevent them from becoming disappointed in this dirt pit of a world, where brothers push their sisters off of cliffs, and people are constantly pressured by peers and themselves to achieve as close to perfection as they can." I reasoned, smiling smugly when he seemed to be at a loss for words. He began to walk away, and I frowned, hovering as close to the glass as I could as the brown haired woman trailed after him.
"Oh, sure, run away when I have the upper hand in the conversation. You always have and you always will!" I yelled after them, throwing my hands up in exasperation when Cyrus failed to look back, his pace increasing at my words. Huffing, I flopped down on the floor, feeling a pouting streak about to come on. I angrily muttered a few profanities, allowing it to drain out of my system, before looking back up in Dana and Royce's direction. Neither looked at all pleased.
"You're the reason why we're stuck in this hole?" Royce seethed in questioning, tapping his bat against the hood of the car he still reclined on, the force creating additional dents to the metal. Remorse gripped at my insides and I cringed because of it.
"Most likely," I replied miserably, "but it isn't as if I'm not suffering by being trapped here, either." I added, reflexively flicking my gaze towards the Jackal's cell and holding back a groan when he caught my gaze with his own increasingly intense one.
"Then, do you know a way to get us out of here?" Dana questioned, head tilted slightly to the side, as I had noticed she did when asking something. I shrugged with hesitation lacing the features of my expression.
"I think I might, but I have to think it through, more thoroughly. Seeing as we're getting nowhere, fast, I figure I have plenty of time. In the meantime, who's up for a word game?" I asked, becoming confused and then grinning impishly when the others groaned. I had a feeling that the confinement period I would be sharing with my fellow prisoners wouldn't be as boring as I'd imagined.
What I expected to be a few days later, a racket disturbed me from the bout of listless thinking I had been in the middle of. The source of the racket turned out to be another cell being added in across the hall from the back of my cell. I stared at the young boy with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. He held a tomahawk in his hand and was clad in cowboy apparel. He looked just as disoriented and confused as I had. I tentatively waved at him, still having a soft spot for kids, a small smile brightening my face when he waved back.
"Hello. My name's Iris. What's yours?" I asked gently, not quite sure why I was taking a ghost's feelings into consideration, but deciding to go along with my judgment.
"My name's Billy." He said in a charming way only a child could, his frown turning upwards somewhat at having at least made an acquaintance in such a foreign place. "Why are we here, anyway?" He asked, his smile almost immediately returning to a frown from the look of hesitation I cast over my shoulder and back at him.
Ghost or not, I fretted to myself, he's still a kid. I paused, trying to form an easy way to explain the situation to him.
"Well, Billy..." I began, flinching and then glaring daggers to my left as yet another bout of laughter shook me from my train of thought.
"We're here to die, again! To die, again!" The Jackal sung between his laughter, floating on his back as another moment of hysteria struck him. I merely rolled my eyes and looked back at Billy, who looked stricken before disappearing from view, soft crying sounding from his cell. Empathy gripped at me, before severe irritation burned it out, flicking a switch in me.
Turning my sights to the current offender, I stormed towards the wall of the cell, pausing before rapidly hitting against it with a fist.
"Shut your trap, ugly!" I shouted well over his laughter while almost instantly getting his attention with my added insult. He let out an animalistic snarl before appearing directly across from where I stood.
"What did you just say, stupid bitch?" The blue eyed maniac growled, but I stood my ground, using my sarcasm to cover up the fact that I was about to flip out and most likely cower in a corner from how close I was to him.
"You heard me, leather face; I said to shut your trap! I've had it up to here with the ceaseless racket you make. That box on your head probably once doubled as a muffler!" I backfired at him, sure that my face would have been red, if I had blood to create such an effect. I was pretty sure that I saw Dana attempting to flag me down to stop, but I decided not to acknowledge her, maintaining the heated glare I was returning to the Jackal. A cruel smile suddenly played on his lips and I was tempted to move back a few paces.
"You'd better hope I never get out of this cell, girly." He said in a voice so calm I began to feel threatened. I shook it off, however, returning with my own sardonic smile.
"As if you'd be able to catch me." I replied in a voice laced with false sweetness, very confident with my defensive tactics and escape maneuvers, maybe even to a fault. I didn't even mind his threats much. I only wanted to establish that I couldn't be intimidated into keeping my mouth shut and I was pretty sure that my demonstration was clear enough on the matter. By my newly found rival's expression, however, I had a feeling that he thought differently. I shrugged to myself and turned my attention to my toy, which was hovering next to me and insistently bumping against my leg, much like a restless cat. Taking a hold of the glowing orb, I giggled as it glowed brighter, my next move being to punt it into the ceiling and waiting for the panicked screams that resounded from upstairs. They eventually did from far off in the house, meaning my toy had most likely gone through a maze of walls to find its target, said target being the brown haired bitch.
"Man," Royce groaned, "I wish I had a cool trick like that. This place woulda' been smashed up, by now." I shook my head slightly at his words, a polite smile spreading across my lips, anyway.
"Stone can only make contact with living beings; it goes right through anything else, encasing spell, or not." I explained, quirking a brow at his dumbfounded expression.
"You named the damn thing?" He asked in disbelief, to which I rolled my eyes, holding my hands out as Stone floated down from the ceiling and into them.
"I was secluded within so many square feet, underwater, for fifty years. I had to find some methods of amusing myself." I retorted listlessly, floating higher off of the ground as my mind wandered back to those times of loneliness, suddenly not in the mood to banter with the ex-jock. I gave a dismissive shrug before gravitating towards the nearest wall to lean against it. I began to fight the thoughts that seeped through my subconscious mind and shrunk back when This is all your fault! blared at me from the back of my mind. I flickered in and out of visibility for a few moments. What was wrong with me? I refused to place all of the blame on myself.
I began to tap my fingers against the wall to a certain rhythm I was familiar with. However, it wasn't long until Dana asked me another question, so unsure of herself even after death. I didn't begrudge her constant curiosity, though, even if she was a little older than me.
"When did you say you died, Iris? That tune sounds like a song that was popular, when I was alive." She mentioned wonderingly from her seated position against one of the cell's corners, turning her head slightly to look at me. I smiled slightly while comfortably bringing my knees up to my chest to watch the tattered ends of my dress dangle beneath me.
"Sometimes, radio waves would get caught up in the ocean's frequency, so I spent a lot of time learning to channel the ones I liked. I've recently lost interest in it, though, since most modern songs are pretty much a repetition of the same subjects." I answered with a slight frown of disappointment darkening my face.
"But that's okay," I amended, "because Stone here remembers all of the songs I like. Don't cha, Stone? Of course, Cyrus would get mad, but...it doesn't really matter what Cyrus thinks." I stated, giggling when Stone glowed brighter, in response to my optimism. I then returned to my normal distant demeanor, drifting back slightly when I noticed that I was being stared at, once again. Raising a brow, I cast Royce a questioning look, not moving an inch while I waited for someone to say something. Finally, the dead baseball played broke the awkward moment with asking.
"What do you mean by saying that thing "remembers" songs?" He asked, another round of confusion complicating things, thus drawing more attention to me. I released my grip on Stone and let it bounce about the cell, for a while, becoming annoyed by the object's constant squirming.
"Stone," I said to emphasize that my companion had a name, "can copy and repeat music, just like a…what are those machines called...cassette player." I elaborated while allowing Stone to roll off my fingers and bounce once before rolling to the center of the cell.
Give a demonstration, I urged it silently, the smile on my face instantly vanishing into a snarl as the tinkling of a music box emitted from the sphere.
"Not that one!" I shouted, panicked, before landing back on the ground weightlessly and kicking Stone so far upwards that I suspected it went through the roof of the house.
Realizing what I had just done-the display of the very real emotions I still strongly possessed-I kept my sight trailed to the floor by where my feet levitated above, wishing I could examine the variables that were causing my recent change in character. Other than the great justice I had done for the little ones at the beach, I was never violent, per say. I was just sad, I think...other than wanting to exact my revenge on Cyrus. And, seeing as he was getting on in years, I was going to have to act soon.
Another six months, perhaps, and he would have all the souls he needed for this infernal machine of his. Another six months, and I would finally free myself from this vendetta I held so close to my soul, that the hate inside of me would eventually corrode it. I knew, because Cyrus was far too prudent to simply set his plans into motion and not stick around to watch them play out. It was set, then; I would wait, because really, what else was I supposed to do?
Here we are again! Sorry to Jackal fans and Angry Princess haters (for various reasons). Not that neither of them won't get word-time (instead of screen-time?). Also, to anyone familiar with Latin: Did I completely butcher that translation of "Hell's Spring?" Please let me know. Thank you!
-Jess