Chapter 10: Vanish

BAM.

Emma slammed face first into the stairwell wall, falling backwards onto the stairs themselves. She lay there for a few moments, gasping, the wind knocked out of her. Once her breath was under control, she sat up, flinging her head around wildly. Everything looked the same as it did last time, only this time, she was alone.

Emma wiped her forehead, a trail of blood staining the back of her hand, and startled in elation when she saw that her hands were normal and not see-through.

Yes! I did it! I made it!

But she couldn't celebrate for long.

She stood up, brushing the dirt and grime from her clothes before taking off. She whipped around the steps, and immediately tripped over a pile left near the bottom of the staircase. She had confused the top of the staircase for the bottom. She was right in front of the cells. In the dark, everything had looked the same.

After catching herself, Emma realized that the guard had left all of his belongings piled outside.

He must not have thought anyone would be here. Idiot.

Emma hastily dug through the pile. In her hurried state, she never did grab any form of weapon before she left. She found a set of keys (probably helpful), a pipe (not helpful), and a long knife that unsheathed into a silver blade with just a flick of a wrist (VERY helpful).

The best find was the one leaning against the wall. It was a wooden bat, about three feet long, ending with a solid brass ball.

Good for bashing in heads.

Emma ran towards the door, grabbed the handle, and pulled.

Locked.

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

"Will you be patient?" yelled a gruff, male voice from inside.

Emma seethed. Fate has brought us together once again.

"Use the damn key if you're that desperate, but you'll have to wait your turn."

Emma could have smacked herself. She had the damn keys in her pocket! She felt like running straight through the door, guns blazing, but then a thought crossed her. She was a normal girl, taller than average but pretty thin, with some limited martial arts training and nothing to protect her. He'd get her out the door as soon as she got in it.

Good thing that fool left his cloak and hat outside the door.

The coat and hat smelled just as bad as the rest of him. Emma gagged, but it gave her more resolved to tear this man apart. She figured that, in the dark, he wouldn't give a second glance to another figure in a Gale Force jacket, and it would give her a better chance of destroying him.

She hooked the knife to her belt loop and grabbed the bat.

This. Ends. Now.

Emma fumbled with the keys. There were at least twenty on the ring. She didn't have time to go through them all. Her hands shook, heart racing, nervousness almost causing her to drop the keys.

Think think think.

Emma coughed and dropped her voice.

"Hey you old bastard," she said in her manliest possible voice. "By Oz be damned I cannot find this key."

"Can't you be patient?"

"No, you dolt. Tell me which one it is."

"Ughh, you're interrupting me," He let out a moan, which made Emma have to stop herself from vomiting on the spot. "It's the ugly rusty one. We've painted it green so we don't forget but of course someone is still dumb enough forget."

Painted green. Emma could not help but roll her eyes. Of course.

With a loud click, the lock opened, and Emma snuck in the door as fast as possible. It closed behind her instantly, and she was grateful that most of the room was dark. There were two lamps this time, giving off just enough light that she could make out who was there. She could see Ardus walking around, the lamp lights casting a large, warped shadow beneath him. Ardus took a swig from a bottle in his hand. There was a table in the room now, a few other bottles lay strewn across. The only other thing in the cell was a dark lump on the ground next to the wall.

Emma's heart was beating so hard that she swore she could hear it. She chanted a mantra in her head along with the metronome of her heartbeat.

Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.

"I got one more round in me so either you're watching or you're leaving."

Ardus turned his back to her. Emma stepped closer as silently as possible, holding the bat with both hands. Just as she got close enough to swing, Ardus strode over to the lump on the floor. He picked it up and slammed it against the wall. A high pitched sound came from the dark shape, giving Emma no doubt to what, or who, it was. Angrier than she ever imagined she could be, she tried to stifle the glow coming off of her hands, but it was starting to overtake her and light up the room.

"Yeah, you heard me," he said, his voice taking on a vile and lustful tone. "One more. Let's try this one up against the wall."

Emma had had enough.

"Hey asshole!"

Ardus turned, and for a second their eyes met. He dropped what he was holding, and took a few steps toward Emma. He tilted his head, looking at her face in shock.

"Wait, how are you—"

SLAM!

Emma slammed the bat into his face, relishing in the sickening crunch it made. Ardus fell the ground, choking and spitting out what sounded like teeth. Emma's bright glow flashed even brighter, illuminating him, giving Emma a clear view of his blood-soaked face. He tried to crawl away from her, but she followed him, smashing the bat into both of legs and across his back.

"You're dead, asshole!"

"Who are you?" he managed to spit out.

Emma raised the bat one more time towards his head.

"I'm the angel of death."

SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM.

Ardus stopped moving.

Emma reeled back, dropping the bat on the ground. Adrenaline was still pumping through her body. The thought that she had attacked another person, maybe even killed him, did not bother her. To her, this thing wasn't a person; it was a monster and not worth it any bit of pity. Her violent white flash faded, leaving her back to normal. She yanked his jacket off in disgust, throwing it across the room. She leaned her head back and laughed, and then spit on the guard's motionless body.

"Bastard."

A slight shuffling sound caught Emma's attention. She turned towards the wall, where the heap on the ground had started to move.

Shit.

"Elphie!"

Emma ran over, kneeling close to her, wanting to grab her friend but wanting not to touch her in case she was hurt.

"Elphie, it's me. It's Emma. I actually made it this time. I'm here! I'm actually here!"

Emma grunted, frustrated, fumbling in the dark. The quick change from bright light to darkness made it hard for her to adjust her eyes. She tried to light up her hands, but she was so wild and unfocused that she couldn't get it to work. She gave up, and instead ran over to the lantern and grabbed it. She sat it on the ground, trying to get her vision to focus in the pitch black.

"Please move, do something, say something, anything. It's Emma. I'm here. Physically, all of me. I made it!"

A small voice, raspy and light, emerged from the heap.

"Is he here?"

"His body is, technically."

"What?"

"I bashed his head in. He got a look at me before I hit him. It was worth every second of seeing his stupid shocked face."

Her friend tried to laugh, but was overtaken in shudders. Emma tried to use the lantern to see her, but Elphaba turned away from her.

"Hey, let me help you…"

Emma laid her hand on her friend. An emotion shot right through Emma's core.

Shame.

"Stop it. Stop it right now. We're getting out of here!"

"I can't."

The words stopped Emma in her tracks.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I can't. They've done it. They found a way to break me."

"Of course they didn't! I'm here now! We can go!"

"You can," Elphaba's voice cracked. "You can get out. There's nothing left of me."

Emma tried to keep herself strong, but failed at keeping the tears from flowing yet again.

"Do not give up! I made it here! I can get you out of here! Do not give up!"

"It's too much," the green girl replied flatly. "I can't make it."

Emma held her head in her hands. She failed. She failed the first time when her projection faded. Now she failed again. Her friend was beaten, tortured, and going to die and it was her fault that she didn't make it here fast enough.

She reached out to you! Emma thought, hitting her hands against her legs. She needed you and you FAILED!

Emma sat up, trying to figure out what to do. She leaned back on her legs, and winced at the whiplash that still stubbornly refused to heal.

Wait.

Emma got an absolutely insane idea.

"Elphie, I took one of your injuries before. I've felt your pain before. Do you think…do you think it's possible for me to take some from you? Do you think I could take some of this away from you?"

"That's ridiculous. I can't ask that of you."

Emma hardened. "You aren't asking me, and I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. I came here to help you and this is the only way I know how."

"I won't let you."

"Yes you will," Emma inhaled sharply, preparing herself for whatever was going to come her way. She wasn't sure how to make this work, but if she got herself here, then damn it, she would find a way to make it work. Sheer stubbornness and desperation were enough motivation at this point. "You don't get a choice."

"Emma, stop—"

"Would you do it for me?"

There was a long silence.

"You already did this for me," continued Emma. "You refused to talk to me. You went silent so Morrible couldn't find me. I don't know what happened to you, but you didn't let her in until you had no choice. You fought for me. You did this for me. Now," Emma held out her hands, finally pulsing with light and static, "I will do this for you."

Emma closed her eyes. She felt the heat return to her body, her hands tingling and burning. Her magic overtook her, almost acting of it's own accord. It guided her, giving her the feeling that she could, in fact, do this. She reached out and laid her hands upon her friend.

What hit her was something that she couldn't describe.

Emma thought she was just taking some of the physical injuries from her friend and transferring it to herself, like she did unintentionally before. The two of them were so connected now, however, that she not only got the pain, but also got a glimpse into memories. These played in her head, flashbacks, so frighteningly real that it seemed to be happening right in front of her eyes.

Her entire self engulfed in pain. It dove past her skin and into her lungs, stretched down through her limbs and rooted into her hands and feet. It drove like nails into her skull and stabbed back from behind her eyes. Her vision was black, hazy, swirling back from one memory to another, memories that were not hers but felt as if they belonged to her.

There were men, various faces but none to be seen clearly. They floated in and out like demonic creatures, appearing only to create pit of despair that they so dearly loved. Their laughter echoed through her mind, followed by the sounds of whip cracks and clanging belt buckles. She was floating in a fog, eyes blinding by darkness and flashing faces, the smell and taste of blood.

The sounds and touch focused in so sharp, replaying over and over. Horrific, vile things coming out of the mouths of guards, slobbering like dogs waiting for a treat. Screaming, crying, groans of suffering, swirling around and around, unsure of if she was hearing them or making them.

Each pain was it's own in it's vile, unique way. Fists were dull and throbbing, connection with the pulsing of bruising and the iron taste of blood. Boots were like fists but with more force, cracking bones into little pieces. The whip was the personification of lightning, striking hot and burning and ripping through everything it touched.

There were others. Hot metal, the smell of burning flesh. Small knives, creating short, intense stings all over. Metal restraints, digging, pinching, cutting.

And then there were the hands. The fists that ball up, the fingers that close around your throat and push the air from the lungs. The hands that take things that can't be returned. The hands that are followed by the other parts of men. The hands that caused unspeakable things, the things that caused tears to fall from her face and felt her soul begin to crack into pieces.

She sank deep into the pit of hell.

And then suddenly, there was only darkness.