Chapter 9
Sam Bigby sat staring at a computer screen in the darkness; his features were gaunt and disheveled. It appeared as though he hadn't had a wink of sleep in days – dark circles ringed around his bloodshot eyes, and his fingers trembled with fatigue. But still he continued to type furiously, his eyes never leaving the glowing screen.
His wife materialized next to him. "Sleep", she commanded. She placed a light hand upon his shoulder, and gripped with surprising strength. Sam winced, and reached up to take her hand.
"Just a little longer", he pleaded with her. His blue eyes gazed at her emerald green ones.
"Samuel Bigby, you need SLEEP. I will take over." With that amazing strength she pulled him out of the seat, and led him toward the bed. With tender care she placed him under the sheets, and tucked him in neatly. Within seconds he was asleep. His last words were, "I love you."
"I love you, too, Sam." With those gentle words, she resumed her husbands work at the computer station. Her fingers typed with surprising speed, and her eyes were glued to the screen just like her husband's were. Within minutes, her objective was complete: she had successfully hacked into the system mainframe, and was exploring it seeking answers to what Death was doing.
Death; sixteen years ago, she and Sam had met each other first during his own research project. He had been an awkward, shy, and inexperienced man just having gotten out of college himself with his brilliant ideas. She had met him under the most oddest of circumstances – in the bathroom. She herself was an accomplished scientist, a year older than him. He had accidentally stumbled into the women's bathroom after someone had decided to play a prank by switching the signs.
She smiled at the memory. That day, her life changed forever.
The toilet flushed, and she stepped outside, smoothing her jeans over and straightening out her shirt. Her sneakers made little sound on the bathroom floor as she headed toward the sink. She looked up, and studied herself in the mirror. She sighed at the image she saw. Tired green eyes that normally sparkled with enthusiasm and warmth; skin that should be still youthful, now having a sickly pallor to it; hands trembling with fatigue – this was not her! She cursed the project leader, whoever he was – what an asshole! This was all for nothing. Nothing!
The idea that life was something tangible; something we could touch and see? Hah! She didn't believe in life. She didn't believe in God. What God could allow a cruel world such as this to exist? Merciful, almighty, loving – what God? Science was God. She believed in the cold, hard facts. That was something that could be believed in. Science disproved God – and that was the reason she had joined.
Another flush rang through the bathroom – one of the stall doors opened and a young man stepped out. She froze.
The man was clumsily trying to close his zipper. When he managed to accomplish that, he looked up and saw her. He, too, stood suddenly still. An awkward silence descended upon them both. Then, he spoke.
"Oh my God, I'm so, so, sorry! I'll – I'll leave now." He began to stumble his way toward the doorway, tripping over an untied shoelace that he had not noticed. She stared at him curiously; who was he?
"Wait!"
He froze again. "Who are you? Some kind of pervert?"
That seemed to start him again. "No, no, no! I'm, uh, I'm, uh – well you see, the sign outside said 'Men's' but I guess, it's not seeing as though you're here, and, uh, oh jeez!" He seemed exasperated as his clumsy speech. She couldn't help but giggle.
As he continued to blather on, she couldn't help but study the young man some more. He wasn't the handsomest man she'd ever seen, but he was cute. His brown hair was untidy – moppy was the word that came to mind if she were asked to describe it. He was of medium height and build. He seemed to gesture a lot with his hands – probably due to the fact that he couldn't express himself very easily. He seemed average, ordinary, boring.
But then her gaze settled on his eyes. Those light blue eyes – they seemed to radiate energy out! She could see the synapses firing behind them. Those eyes seemed almost out of place compared to the rest of his face. She was drawn to those eyes – they radiated warmth, intelligence, and kindness. None of the men she had dated ever had eyes like that.
His explanation came to an end. "Please, please forgive me!" He went down on both knees in front of her, and folded his hands – like as though he were in praying to some divine God for consolation. "Please!" He really was nervous. She giggled some more, and he stared at her curiously.
"It's okay. You were clearly the victim of a prank." Her tone was amused and light. At the sound, the guy seemed to lighten up instantly. He stood up and nervously smoothed down his shirt and pants. He stuck out his hand. "Thanks."
"I didn't get your name."
"Sam. Sam Bigby."
She was taken aback. Sam Bigby? The Sam Bigby? The project leader? She had imagined some white-haired old man with crazy eyes; but not this. He was young, barely out of college himself.
"You seem surprised." His tone was nervous again. She smiled.
"You're cute."
The flush was just there; there were no gradual changes, it was just there – his face turned beet red in a flash. He began to stutter. She smiled, and her eyes sparkled once more. Her compliment had worked its charm. She was definitely being attracted to him, alright. Something about him – she couldn't place it. But there was something she definitely liked about Sam. Maybe she would ask him out on a date (seeing as though he was incapable of doing it himself) just to see how things would work out. Nothing serious. She liked him, but that was all.
They were married less than a year later.
Sam Bigby's wife found what she was looking for, and was jolted out of her little reverie. There. A stream of data flowed in front of her eyes, and she studied it carefully. It flowed down the screen endless, and her trained eyes searched . . .
There! Her finger hit down on a button, and the stream of data stopped in front of her eyes. Her heart thudded madly in her chest.
It was moving. It was coming; a flood; a rain; a storm; a hurricane. It was coming. Death. It was coming for Ned, Moze, and Cookie. Faster and faster. Their destinies would collide with unknown speed and power. What would happen then?
What would happen?
Would they survive this nightmare?
She then did something she hadn't done in over sixteen years. She got out of her chair, knelt down, and began to pray to God. She knew that it was a lousy time – the chances of God answering her prayers after so many years of shunning Him was unlikely. But she prayed hard.
God, please, I know that I haven't been on good terms on you for a long time – not after my parents' death. But please, please, I beg of you. Spare them. No, no, it's too late for that now. Just please. Let them survive. Let Ned survive, I beg of you. I don't want to lose another. Not again.
Please.
Moze lay next to Ned in the dark classroom, watching his rising and falling chest with her big brown eyes. He slept peacefully, his broken leg wrapped in gauze and his bruises and various other wounds healing. She was reflecting on all the past events; everything that had happened within the past few days was flitting through her mind. Moze wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon.
All around her, small noises permeated the silence. Her friends were sleeping – she wished she had company, but they deserved it after all. They had saved her. She owed them that.
God, she was tired. Ned hadn't been acting himself since they had arrived. He seemed more secluded. He was afraid of something. Something was scaring him. She wanted to know what, but a confrontation was the last thing she wanted right now. Moze just relished being alive, right now.
She was drifting off . . .
"Hey, Moze." Ned's cheerful voice floated out of the fog towards her. Where was she?
She cracked open her eyes. Up above her lay an endless stretch of beautiful blue sky, the sun shining brighter than she had ever seen it. A light breeze flowed over her, rustling some leaves and grass.
She sat up. Ned was sitting next to her, his eyes trained on the sky, his mouth curled up in that thousand-watt smile of his.
"You awake?" he asked his eyes still on the sky.
"Yeah. Where are we?" She looked around her. They appeared to be sitting in some gigantic field of flowers. There was no sign of civilization for miles. It was . . . peaceful.
"Don't know. You wanted to be here."
"I did?"
"Well, where does it look like we are?"
She racked her brain hard, and the answer came to her. Surprised, she smiled when she realized where they were.
"It looks like the field we used to play in when we were young. You know the one behind our houses, before they used it to build more housing units." Her voice turned sad at the end of the sentence. That field had been a goldmine of memories for her and Ned. Lots of happy memories there.
"Yeah, I thought so, too." Ned seemed sad, too.
"Why are we here?"
"I don't know – like I said, YOU wanted to be here."
She lay back, and enjoyed the soft feeling of the grass beneath her. "It's so peaceful, here. I just feel like I could just lay back and not be afraid."
"Moze, I need you to promise something to me." Ned's voice sounded odd; almost restrained.
Her head turned toward him. "What?"
"I want you to promise that you'll keep going."
"Keep . . . going?" She was confused.
"Yeah. After I'm gone."
She sat up, fast. "That isn't funny, Ned."
He smiled, bitterly. "Yeah, I know."
"I'm serious. Knock it off. We're going to make it through this."
"YOU will. I'll know you will. But, I know what I have to do now."
There was a large ripping sound, like paper being torn in half. Moze looked and saw what appeared to be a portal open in front of her. It gaped open, wide and pulsating, as though it was alive.
Ned stood up, dusted off the back of his jeans, and began to walk towards it.
"This is because of some stupid noble reason isn't it?!" Moze was furious, desperate, and sad. She couldn't lose Ned – not again.
"Yeah, something like that." He didn't look at her; Ned just continued to walk towards the dark abyss.
She wasn't crying. Moze had a feeling that this would happen for a long time, now. But that didn't make it any easier. With every step he took away from her, it felt like her heart was being wrenched out further and further from her chest.
"I need to end this. I'm tired of playing the hero. I want my piece of mind." He stopped and finally turned towards her.
"Death is an illusion, Moze. I want you to always remember that."
He stood awkwardly, staring down at her. If he took one more step he would enter through the dark doorway leading to . . . wherever it was bound.
"Bye, Moze." If he ever got out of this mess, he swore that he would make it up to her, no matter how long it took. Even if it took the rest of their lives.
"Good-bye, Ned." Her big brown eyes were condemning him, unintentionally.
He couldn't take it any longer. Ned turned around, faced the dark abyss, and entered the doorway leaving behind Moze and everything else he loved and cared about. His future was calling.
Moze awoke slowly. Blinking, she turned her head praying that it was all just a dream.
It wasn't. Ned's inert body was gone.
She stared at the spot where his body once lay. Then she merely turned over and resumed her sleep.
She didn't have anymore dreams.
"Something's coming this way, Sam!"
Sam Bigby looked over to where the voice was coming from. There was some shouting, and the parents of the children were all pointing towards one spot in the laboratory.
There was large dark portal opening in the middle of the room.
Sam bolted out of his computer chair, and stepped in front of it. The portal was oval shaped, and it grew wider and wider until . . .
Two bodies dropped out of it. Sam knelt down and turned them over.
Ned and Devon. His boys were here. He felt an elated sense of happiness, only to have it dashed away. Them being here was both a good and bad sign.
It was time to explain the truth, then. How to get them out of this terrible mess.
The portal closed, and the two unconscious boys began to stir. Sam whispered to his two sons:
"Welcome to the real world, boys."
Sam's POV
Sixteen years ago, I had been working on how to tap into that vast energy source we call life. I found a way. Through my two sons, as soon as they were born. Babies are the very visage of life – life in pure form.
They were my sons, however, and as much as my curiosity grew I could not perform any serious experiments on them. The project seemed doomed to fail.
Then . . . he came along. And changed everything. I was usurped of my position of project leader, and became second-in-command. He planned to experiment on my sons against my better judgment, spouting crap like it was for the good of mankind.
Bull. They were my sons and I would not allow them to be used as test subjects. Mankind could rot for all I care. So in the dead of night, my fellow colleagues and I took back my sons from him before he could notice. But it was too late. He had already done something to them. He had changed them; tampered with them.
In my anger, I confronted him with this knowledge. I asked him explicitly what he had done. He told me.
I shot him. Once. Twice. Three times. I lost count.
What he had done had amazed me as a scientist; but as a human being and a father it repulsed me beyond my limits. My sons; how could have I allowed this to happen to them? I had failed them.
I was determined not to let it happen again. My sons could not discover what they had become. What they had been made into. With my fellow colleagues backing me up for support, I shut down the facility we were using for our research and destroyed everything we could find. We took some things with us as precautions. Just in case, he came back. I suspected he did more than he let on.
Sixteen years passed. I lost one of my sons to a horrible circumstance, but life went on. I prayed every single day that nothing would happen.
But sins of the past are not so easily forgotten. And now I find myself in the midst of a future gone bad, gone sour, gone dark. All because of him. I have to save them. Save them, damn it! I will not allow my boys to find out that they've been turned into nothing more than mere tools for his dark agenda.
He had found a door. A door leading to that what they call Death. Purgatory – that place in between where souls wait for judgment. Whatever you wish to call it.
But he needed keys. So he created them. Life is the key to death.
He created two of them, using my boys as carriers for those keys. That bastard. Life was something not to be tampered with! I learned that from my studies. Yet, he sought to use it for his own purpose. I'm not sure what that purpose is.
When I confronted him, it was in front of that door. He begged with me, pleaded with me to understand what he was trying to do.
I shot him, as you already know. His falling body disappeared into the doorway. I closed the door, and left it closed. It looks like he's returned – in a form no longer human. You could say he's become a Grim Reaper. Or so he calls himself now. But I know his real name. What he used to call himself, before he lost all traces of his humanity.
Mark Bigby – my brother.
Mastermind.
Mastermind/Mark's POV
They're not here anymore! I cannot sense their presence. They've disappeared it seems. Clearly they've discovered the doorway between this world and the real world. They are in the real world now – but I think they'll be back. They've left their little friends behind. Maybe I'll have some fun with them . . .
This world is something I thought up in my sixteen years of exile in that horrible place. I discovered many secrets in my stay in that place. Death is forever; life is an illusion. It always passes.
I created this world out of sheer amusement. A little payback for what their parents did to me. Especially to my brother Sam. I definitely plan to have fun with his sons when they come back. I'll be waiting for them, like any good uncle should. With my arms wide open.
And when I have them in my grasp, I'll squeeze so hard they can't breathe.
I'll squeeze them so hard their little heads will pop off.
"Dad." Ned's voice rang out, and his father winced at how flat it sounded.
"Yes, Ned."
"Where are we?"
Sam was surprised that Ned didn't even know where they were. He'd been here before, countless times.
"We're in Cookie's lab, Ned. Didn't you know that?"
"Impossible. Cookie's lab has a dead T-Rex sitting in it." His voice still retained that flat sound to it.
"A dead T-Rex?" Sam was puzzled. What was he talking about?
"Maybe you hit yourself too hard, there, brother." Devon sounded a little sarcastic.
"I wasn't asking you, jackass."
"Ooh, touchy. Afraid for your precious Moze?" His voice was jeering.
"How about Jennifer? How's she doing? She know you're here?"
Silence. Then, "Touché."
That settled it then. Sam sighed wondering if Devon had gotten the message at all regarding Ned. He made a mental note to ask him later on. He needed to examine Ned. Sam knew that he had been showing some rather disturbing traits lately.
Ned was starting to act like Mark.
He shuddered. Time was not something they had a lot of. They had to act quickly.
Prepare them for the battles ahead. Give them the weapons, the knowledge, the tools.
Then pray that God was merciful, and would show them a way to victory.
Moze awoke. Someone was standing over her.
"My, you ARE pretty." The stranger smiled at her, a horrible, ugly smile that made her want to vomit. He leaned down close to her, and his breath was unsurprisingly rancid and foul. It was like something laid down in there and just died.
"I don't really want to do this, but I need Ned and Devon back here as soon as possible. You see their uncle is too old to do this by himself, but I need them to help me open a door. I'm afraid I've misplaced the key to it." His smile never faltered, but his blue eyes flickered at her. Something wasn't right about him.
His hand closed over her mouth, and she realized that everyone else had been bound and gagged. Their eyes betrayed the terror they felt. An army of the parasites stood in front of them, guarding them making sure they didn't make any motions to escape. Cookie had a nasty bruise right above his eye. Suzie was unconscious. Loomer was trying to reach her, but the parasites knocked him back down. The stranger smiled even more.
She wanted to scream. But Moze realized that Ned had asked her to take his place when he had disappeared. She had to be brave now.
Moze hacked a big one right in the guys face.
"Wrong move" he growled.
"You'll never get Ned."
"Heh, I wouldn't be betting on your hero just yet. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve for him and his brother." His blue eyes were not like Ned's; they were the exact opposite in fact. They were cold and empty. Like little pieces of ice embedded in his skull.
"As soon as they step foot back in here again, they're dead men."
Man, I'm bushed. Once again, I've overstepped my boundaries and typed late at night. I really need to start writing in the day time again. I have to stop this whole nocturnal business. Well, anyway, some answers have been given. The story will be ending soon, so yeah enjoy it while you can. I'm going to stop writing about Ned and all. They're story will be done. I've decided to start a new character's story, in the Declassified universe. Someone else to take up the mantle – it'll be a fresh challenge for me. You'll be seeing my new characters (whose names are Sam, DJ, and Larry) in a new story soon enough. But until then, I've got to finish this one. Read and review. Thanks again, and see you all later.
BlueRoyKaz
P.S. – I hoped all of you enjoyed Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I know I did.