A.N. The penultimate chapter, bar the epilogue! Things get very, very precarious here. Please do no read the second part if you are overly squeamish, although you survived chapter 8, so...
The rest of this is all written, so expect it all up by the end of next week (I know that double updates are annoying). And, in case I forget... Thank you for reading.
Here we have the third, and final, of our tenses introduced. Please enjoy. Oh, and one fem!character. In fem!Russia, but she's not actually... Ugh. You'll see. She's the 'moral compass' of the story. Sort of... Well, you'll see in chapter 10.
(I'm not happy with Iggy's bit, but... I'm coming to accept I'm never happy).
Chapter 9 – In Which We Meet The Antagonist
Artur will run, and he will carry on running. His right arm will hold Mattiyahu close to his body, and his left hand will grasp Aelfred's. Aeflred in turn will drag Petros, who will drag Mackenzie, who will drag Leon and so on. They will run toward the forest, and they will not stop.
Neither will they be followed.
Time will pass, and they will come to a clearing. The youngest and the weakest and the most injured will be able to run no further. Artur will allow them to stop, and they will, together, fashion what may be a camp. Wounds will be bound, and they will huddle together for warmth and protection.
That night, they will all sleep. When they awake, things will be different.
Artur will awake to screaming. The group will be surrounded by a group of people, dressed in many colours.
"Why are you here?" one will ask, pointing a wooden spear at Artur. He will be tall, and glaring.
"Help," is all he will say, as he will gesture to his children.
One of the people will bend down, looking at the children, "the children are of us, brother, but the adult is not… Yet he is not of them anymore, either." They will look back at the first, questioning.
The first will lower his weapon, "We will help the children," he will speak slowly, as though contemplating the matter, "But you will have to give them up."
Artur will look between the group of people and his children, eyes flickering rapidly. He will stand.
"Can you save them?" he will ask, looking the people in their pale blue eyes, "Can you keep them safe?"
Petros will already be making friends with the shortest of the group, chattering happily to them.
The first man will nod, and Artur will look down. He will want to keep the children, but he will want them to survive. He will know the group are like them. He will lean down, and say goodbye to each child in turn. His hands will rest on Aelfred and Mattiyahu for the longest, "Keep the others safe," he will whisper to Aelfred, and to Mattiyahu "please repair soon, little one."
He will stand again, and bow to the people before him. His children will call for him as they are taken away into the forest, but he will stay where he is.
The last to leave will be one of the group – an adult untouchable. The adult will look at him, and speak, "Go north, but do not stop. Do not stop, else she will catch you."
The adult will point north, "Keep running, good sir, else you'll never be granted peace."
Artur will nod, frowning as he watches Aelfred wave at him. He will turn, and take off in the direction pointed.
He will run and run and run, pushing past trees and many other things. He will run for days on end, but eventually he will reach a huge drop. Artur will stop, scared to fall. He will turn to find another way across, but there will be none. Behind him, he will hear whistling and other sounds. Eyes wide, he will watch an army of white-coated people on horseback.
"I'll give you one last chance," their leader, a female, will call, "step backwards and die, or attempt to outrun your fate."
Artur will frown and, unwilling to die, he will surge forward.
The female leader will sigh, "You choose so, so badly."
Something will hit Artur on the back of the head, sending darkness across his vision. As it does, he will see the leader dismount, frowning softly.
"You are a fool, Arthur Kirkland," she will whisper as he passes out, "A fool."
The Count awakes in a dark place. All around him the black swirls, but for what is lit by a gas lantern. It hangs above the door to a inn, named above as 'The Edge of Nowhere'. Outside of what is lit by the lantern, things do not exist.
He stands, brushing himself down. Seeing no-where and nothing else, he enters.
The building is panelled inside, with rich wooden floors. However, everything, even the counter and bell, is covered in dust. Roderick sees a duster and broom over to one side.
"Is anyone here?" He calls into the darkness.
There is no reply. Not knowing where he is, the Count walks through the building, pushing every open door. There are no people, but each room is perfectly furnished to his own tastes; just dusty. Ever so dusty.
He continues to explore for an amount of time which he does not know; never does he grow hungry, tired or thirst. He sees no people, either.
Eventually, he comes to a room with a piano and a covered mirror. It, unlike all of the other rooms, is clean. He lifts the lid, and begins to play.
The Count plays for hours, until his fingers begin to ache. Moving again, he lifts the sheet from over the mirror.
The mirror shows the reflection of a gaunt, haggard man. Roderick does not recognise himself - he looks like a skeleton with flesh stretched over the top. He touches the reflection; the mirror is soft, and bends.
When, however, the pressure is removed, it does not reform his image - but that of his wife.
"Eliza?"
"Will you help me?" The image asks.
"Anything," he promised.
"Look after this place," the woman in the mirror coos, "clean and look after it; own it and guard it."
"I will," he replies.
"Danke," the image's face twists, and screams. It is the same scream he heard many years ago; when he saw his wife be taken, and everyone else saw her die.
"Eliza!"
His ears ring with the sound, as his face contorts in pain. He puts a hand to his ear, and finds it covered in blood.
The image stops screaming, and starts laughing. She speaks, as her hair changes to white and her eyes to purple, but he cannot hear it.
"What are you saying?!" He screams, terrified as he cannot hear his own voice.
She shakes her head, smirking. The expression is foreign on her face as she steps out of the mirror, a knife in hand. She plunges it into his heart, before dragging it, hollowing out his chest.
The Count falls to the fall, shuddering in pain. He knows he should be dieing, but his vision does not fade. All he knows is pain, for time unknown.
The image from the mirror disappears as he hides his head in the gaping wound in his chest. He sees and hears nothing; knows nothing but pain.
The blood drips through the floor, forming the words 'do not mess with me' on the wall, staining it ever red.