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For the rest of the night (or was it day? Ronald couldn't tell being locked up in a windowless room) Ron felt anxiety biting him. Its teeth were almost as sharp as the monkeys in his dream. Although he knew that his body was perfectly healthy, as healthy as one captive can be, he felt sick. It was not physically sick but rather sick with emotions, his mind so lost in them that he found himself similar to two winters ago with the flu.
What in the world could Monty be doing? From what little Ron told him about the dream, it would only make sense if he had his chin dragged across a page of an old book, studying every dot of an i and cross of a t with hawk eyes. How long had it been since he awoke from that shaky dream? How many hours slipped by since he was kissed forcefully in front of DNAmy?
Stretching out a bit, he started to talk to Rufus quietly.
It was a blur of pages turned in moments. The book was shoved off carelessly yet did not hit the ground, only landed on another pile of books that suffered the same consequence as before. Another cover was opened, the process repeated.
Word after word was scanned over by his misty blue eyes, information zipping through his mind like bullets from a machine gun. If anything didn't stick out, it was instantly trashed and forgotten about. This system was proven to work though, despite the fact that many would point it out as flawed. In fact, it was nearly impeccable!
Time was not a factor when Fiske got this way. Nothing could bring him out of the hurricane of books raining down onto his desk only to be shoved off onto the ground. His monkey ninjas couldn't pull him away, not for food, not for tea which he enjoyed immensely, and not even if the place was on fire. It was a miracle in itself that his wrist didn't break from going so quick back and forth. It wasn't exactly a trance he went in; just a state of need that consumed him whole like a lion did a mouse.
At long last, he reached the 17th shelf of his vast library and opened the first book cover with uncharacteristic weariness. His hand moved slower this time; whether it was because of his age, because it grew tired, or just because it knew something about the book he didn't, he wasn't sure of. No matter what the real reason was, he was grateful for it because there was a large text that stood out the most.
"It is true when two becomes one something special will happen, it will change not only those two but the world. Yet those who manage to become one in the special way as the old days will never be a true one until they visit the Temple of Mooka.
The beautiful deserts that surround Mooka will guard it and protect it from those undeserving. Those who try to get through the challenge will fail if they are weak or divided into two when they should be one. Yet the one who reaches the Temple of Mooka will have power above all else."
The page ended. The next page spoke of Africa, describing how many tribes believed in voodoo. "That's it?!" He shouted to himself, not expecting an answer. "After all this searching, I get two paragraphs?!" Sure it was better, his rational English side reminded him, than one paragraph and he should not complain…but this brought even more mystery to it all.
With a rough sigh of rage, he ran a hand forcefully through his already messy hair, pulling out the tangles that left his grey eyes watery. Ignoring the prickly pins of pain in his head, he sat down and glared down at the book. It was like an ugly creature staring up at him, disgusting him, annoying him, and unintentionally earning his hatred.
When two became one…well he already had! He found the other text which seemed sadistically scattered through old random coded books which led him to taking Ron. He had sex with the young man; he became one and was dominate! Why was the boy dreaming of such things though?!
Mooka…What an odd name. What did it mean? It sounded childish…almost fruity. Actually, the more he thought about it, it sounded like one of the foolish names that DNAmy called her silly fused animals. It definitely was a combination of two names…it had to be! Yet what would the two words be? Mocha?
The next and final clue in the text was the locations. Temples of Mooka…and a desert that obviously tested those who roamed through it. What deserts though? There were so many! On every country, almost every country at least, there was a desert. So where should he go first?
That was when an idea hit him like a rock hard banana nut muffin did.
He would take the young lad with him! He would force him to identify the desert he saw for there seemed to be a specific detail from them all, especially in his dreams. Although it would mean more time to spend with him, it certainly would be worth it.
When he stood up and headed to the room, he finally realized what type of grin he wore. It was a twisted humorous one, a grin only a fellow sadist could enjoy. Though his conscious mind was obviously lingering over the news he discovered and plans he made, his subconscious mind was planning and mapping things out that…well, shouldn't be planned and mapped out.
When he opened the heavy door, he saw Ron scrabbling to cover his chest by using the red silk sheets. He stepped into the room, paused when he saw this, and rolled his eyes. "Honestly boy, you should be accustom to lingering nude before me!" He reached forward, fingers wrapping around the fine material but instead jerked back empty.
A loud cry left his lips as he felt sharp teeth sink into his finger. Holding the pulsing digit, he glared down at Rufus who seemed to have been sleeping on his master's leg. "You little…" He reached forward to snatch him and throw him into a wall, or perhaps the unbreakable one way mirror, but was stopped.
"What do you want?" Ron grabbed his wrist with such authority that Monty raised a brow. Realizing what he just did, he sheepishly let go and grinned weakly.
"Get dressed." He threw some of his own clothes at the boy. "We're going to travel."
Next chapter: Road trip as a prisoner…fun, fun.