Chapter 25: The Central Chamber

With their footsteps nearly silent, each and every one of them care not to breathe too loud or move too quickly or make any sort of disturbance in any sort of way, Benjamin's men approached the staircase of the pyramid.

One by one, they passed by the stone slab that Samantha Hawkins' corpse had been found on, the dried blood that had pooled underneath her head still present. It was quite eerie, especially to Zachary himself, who slept in the corner of the same room where her body had been held.

It only served to remind him, once again, that she was dead – he had nearly managed to convince himself otherwise.

The guild members had been separated into two main clusters, one under the command of Benjamin himself, the other led by Andrew – there had been no opposition to this, naturally, not questioning their leader's intent and method whatsoever even if they did not quite fully understand it yet.

They ascended separately, but without much effort to remain hidden – if nothing had changed since the last time, which was almost certain, then the soldiers would be entirely concentrated in that very same blockade – as long as they made no great noise, going undetected would be easy.

The soldiers had been given one order – to defend. And although no forces other than they and their commander had been present within these tunnels after the death of Underhill's crew, that was about to change very soon.

Continuing to traverse through the tunnels, across the bridge and into the labyrinth, they readied their weapons – explosives and smoke bombs and chain bombs and everything of that nature that was possibly imaginable. Benjamin held up one hand to halt them, having recognized the corner that the blockade lay just around.

It was time for the second part of the plan.

All at once, in a sudden flash of movement triggered by Benjamin's signal, they launched their explosives towards the walls of the tunnel, immediately scattering afterwards and taking cover in various locations as debris and dust rained down, as the air before them became so thick that it was impossible for Andrew to see his hand in front of his face.

"This way!" Benjamin hissed, just a few feet to his left, and Andrew wasted no time in blindly following the voice and the soft footsteps that accompanied it.

After all, he had next to no idea what direction he was heading in at the moment, and given that Benjamin had lived in a war zone, he likely had more experience with these sorts of situations.

Likewise, Zachary, as well as a small group of about five more men who had already been selected prior to the mission quickly followed, their meticulous planning making up for their complete lack of vision, and to some degree, hearing as well as the clockwork forces making up the blockade just around the corner began to disperse, marching in smaller blocks down towards the source of the explosion.

It was not likely that they could see either, in this smoke and dust, but they certainly had more acute hearing than the average man did.

Even now, the guild would have the odds stacked against them, unless everything proceeded exactly according to plan, and his panic only increased as he realized that the clockworks were marching directly towards them.

"Ben! They're coming – "

"Ssssh! This way!"

Once again, Andrew found himself being grabbed by the collar of his coat and jerked roughly forwards, except that instead of continuing down the hallway, he found that he had been pulled into an opening in the wall, just barely hidden behind an absolutely massive pile of debris. Zachary had followed close behind, as had the others, obviously having an advantage over him given that he was entirely reliant on his currently dirt-clogged glasses to be able to see anything.

They waited in silence as the clockworks passed, their steps methodical and perfect – but then there was another series of explosives and a great deal of shouting from every direction as the guild members, men and women, human and dog alike, launched themselves into the fray, blanketed by the smoke, drawing the clockworks further into the inescapable chaos as more and more of them arrived, their steps frantic now and in no particular time.

They were rushing to protect their Commander, Andrew knew – that had been their order, and until now, there had not been any threat present, but now that Benjamin's guild had done so well in creating one –

Their presumed orders would force them to seek out and eradicate said threat.

Of course, that would never happen, not with the Marleybonians as invisible as they were – it was the perfect opportunity.

Finally convinced that the second part of the plan had been executed accordingly, Benjamin signaled them forwards, and they walked on – to Andrew's amazement, they were in yet a smaller tunnel inside the walls of the main system itself, and it was large enough for them to stand upright, although not wide enough to allow more than two men to walk side to side without pressing shoulders.

Surely, if Jewel Zabra was in the central chamber, she had gone this way as well – how else could she have, with the swarm of clockworks that patrolled the area?

"Sir, we're blocked."

"We are, Mr. Hughes?"

The man that had been walking just in front of Benjamin, a pistol cocked in his right hand, stepped back to allow the leader to investigate. Benjamin placed his hands in front of him, his fingers coming into contact with an immovable pile of debris, large chunks of rubble and rock.

"It's a wall…the roof must have caved in here!"

"This is a dead end, then?" Andrew half-whispered, praying that this was not the answer – they had the guild behind them, their lives dependent on their entry into the central chamber!

"It looks like it – " Benjamin suddenly paused, his movements growing more frantic as he ran his hands up and down and sideways, over the area.

"Wait a minute."

"Sir?"

"There's a space here – here! Up over our heads, that must be how she got in!"

"Up?!"

"Up, yes, up, lift me up!" Benjamin whispered in somewhat of a hiss, keeping quiet enough to remain undetected and yet conveying authority at the same time as the man next to him, clearly confused but not wanting to disobey his superior, laced his fingers together and bent down slightly.

"Put your foot here, sir, I can lift you up about four feet or so – don't know how high the ceiling goes."

Not hesitating further, Benjamin did exactly so, immediately grasping for the edge of the six foot ledge as soon as he was lifted, easily pulling himself over before reaching his hand down, motioning to Andrew, as he was relatively light compared to the rest of them.

Together, the eight of them worked in this manner to slowly but surely get everyone onto the ledge, now being forced to crawl in a single file line, the rubble below them digging into their palms and kneecaps as they inched onwards.

When they finally saw light emerging from what was presumably the end of the tunnel system after what seemed like a cruelly stretched span of time, a collective sigh of relief could be felt amongst the eight men – crawling like this for even a minute longer would have been nothing short of cruel.

One by one, with Benjamin leading the way, they slid down the now sloped pile of rubble, feeling the flat stones beneath them to ensure their own stable landing before standing up and following the guild leader out of the narrow crack in the wall, which was only wide enough to allow them to pass through once they had twisted themselves sideways.

Luckily, neither Andrew or Zachary were particularly bulky in build, and thus it had not been difficult for either of them.

Once their eyes had adjusted to the light, the eight men found that they were now standing in an enormous, high-ceilinged cave, the very centerpiece of it being a towering stone staircase that topped off with a long, wide platform that stretched back until the opposite wall. Its immense height was such that it was impossible to see what was upon it, but Benjamin could easily guess.

This was a throne room.

Holding out his right hand to signal the others to stop, now falling silent as he listened intently for even the slightest disturbance.

Yet, much to his surprise, he found nothing.

Nothing – not even the sound of breathing, of movement, of fabric rustling, not any of the sounds that accompanied a human's presence – Sydney's presence.

Beside them, the tunnel leading into the chamber was deserted, extending down only to off at a sharp right turn about two hundred feet down, preventing Benjamin from seeing any further. However, if there were soldiers just around the corner, he would have surely heard by now – the fight put up by the guild members was anything but silent, and judging by how he could hear next to nothing at the moment, the battle was still quite far away from where they were.

This left the eight of them in the unguarded throne room – surely they would be more than a match for one woman, if she were to suddenly attack them.

Turning, Benjamin gestured towards Zachary.

"I need some kind of barrier over this tunnel entrance. Something that'll block the soldiers if they try to charge us – "

"On it!"

Having dashed over to the tunnel entrance with energy that amazed the rest of his comrades, Zachary planted his feet shoulder-width before raising his staff and conjuring up a large, translucent barrier that blocked off the entryway, a stream of blue-tinted energy continuously coming from the tip of his staff and feeding into the forcefield, expanding and fortifying it.

"Try to hurry, though – I can't do this forever!"

"Understood!" Benjamin called back, silently praying that the barrier would only ever be a precaution, that they would be able to escape before they were discovered and surrounded by three hundred clockwork soldiers, all of them stopping at nothing to defend their commander.

For now, the soldiers had been tricked – tricked into thinking that the threat to Sydney's life lay in the outer tunnels, with the guild members and gas bombs, when in reality, the biggest danger was in her throne room, right here, right now.

But they did not know how much longer this diversion would hold.

Leading the remaining six men away from the tunnel entrance, Benjamin started for the massive staircase, retrieving the pistol that had been strapped to his belt in preparation as he neared the foot of the staircase, only to be stopped by a bloodcurdling shout of pure terror from one of his men.

"Are you mad?! Quiet, or they'll kill us – "

"By your feet, sir, it's…"

The blood draining from his face, Benjamin braced himself and slowly looked down.

Just inches away from his feet was the bloodied, mutilated figure of a petite woman, her intestines and other internal organs strewn atop and about her in one massive, putrid mess, her entire decaying form nearly submerged in a pool of her own dried blood.

It was impossible for Benjamin to tell her eye color, both of her eyes had decayed and collapsed by now – but her hair was still there, the long black braid that laid just behind her head, solidified with her own coagulated blood.

"A-andrew…it's Jewel…"

But his cousin was not looking upon the corpse – instead, he was running away, dropping to his knees in the furthermost corner before becoming violently sick. Benjamin's own stomach gave a sympathetic roll.

Murdered her crew.

At least Samantha's death looked as if it had been relatively quick – but Jewel had suffered, she had suffered for quite some time before the merciful embrace of death finally took her, he could see it even now, traces of the agony that she must have felt in her final moments.

"We…we'll take her back..."

Even now, his own words seemed distant to him, and he had to fight to stay conscious, to prevent the terrifying state of her corpse, and the state of the enemy that this implied.

Sydney had done this with her bare hands.

Had he not known the surrounding circumstances when viewing her corpse for the first time, Benjamin would have guessed that she had been clawed to death by a wolf or a bear or some sort of other enormous animal.

No.

This was a human – a woman – his very own childhood friend.

Slowly standing on shaky legs, Andrew made his way back over to the group, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he took up the rifle that was strapped across his back, his face still a rather sickly pallor.

"Ben…there's a throne up there, a…a giant stone throne…"

The guild leader swallowed hard.

"You think she's there?"

"Where else would she be?"

His words carried a weight to them, and it was felt by the others as well – they had just seen the corpse of Sydney's victim, they had seen the fate that she had brought upon her own friend, her sister, practically – and now another silent question was posed.

If she was here, what would she do to them?

Their numbers no longer mattered. She was here, and she was clearly mad – mad and dangerous.

Knuckles white and palms clammy with terror, the seven of them – minus Zachary, who was maintaining the barrier – slowly ascended, led by Benjamin at the very forefront. The stairs were slippery and coated in the same hardened, dried blood, no doubt from Jewel's corpse, from the hands of her murderer –

Or perhaps it was from Sydney herself.

Has someone confronted her already –

What became of them?

As they climbed higher, the platform at the very top of the staircase began to become clear, as well as the throne positioned at the very edge of it. Although it was empty, it was possible to see that the platform most definitely extended for a good distance behind it, and it was almost certain that Sydney was still here.

Is it certain?

For what was most definitely not the first time during this mission, the doubts began to creep into Benjamin's mind – although this time they were louder than before, they were more demanding and imposing and convincing than before, and he had to fight, he had to fight hard to ignore them with every ounce of will remaining in his body.

He had led them this far, his guild was counting on him, Skull Island was counting on them to succeed.

Failure was out of the question here.

Stopping just before their heads would become visible overtop the platform, Benjamin listened carefully once again, for any sound, a breath, a whisper, perhaps hair sliding over fabric or flesh as Sydney turned her head.

Nothing, yet again – and Benjamin grew even more alarmed.

Swallowing hard, he called out – not loud enough to carry into the tunnels, but enough so that anyone standing upon the platform could have heard it.

"Sydney?"

No response.

"Sydney, are you there?"

Once again, the men waited for several seconds in silence – and then it seemed as if Benjamin had been wrong, as if Andrew and Zachary had been wrong, she was not here, and perhaps she had not murdered her crew –

But then, footsteps could be heard – soft, light footsteps, but they were footsteps nevertheless, and they were approaching.

As if on cue, the men raised their weapons, steady and practiced hands keeping the barrels of their rifles and muskets steadily trained on the center of the platform, waiting for the madwoman to emerge, in all her tearstained, sunken eyed glory, hands permanently stained with the blood of her victims, nails grown out and broken –

But instead, they were greeted with the pale, porcelain face of an Armada musketeer.

An Armada musketeer with blue eyes that almost seemed to emit light of their own, like diamonds, set in the place of the two black sockets that had once made the clockworks seem so detached, so cold and inhuman.

In his hands was a standard Armada rifle, the barrel of it pointed directly at Benjamin's chest.

"My Commander wishes not to be disturbed."

Benjamin looked over him, and noticed that his gloves were red and brown and black, with what almost seemed to be coagulated clumps of blood and something else spread out over his fingers and the backs of his hands. Several flies buzzed around him, drawn to it, all of them having come from an area further back upon the platform that Benjamin could not quite see, still at least ten steps short of the top.

The musketeer did not pay any attention to the insects, his eyes trained directly upon Benjamin's own – although the guild leader could not help but notice the slight tremor, ever so subtle, that was slowly running through his frame, up and down and over and over.

"Is Sydney – "

"My Commander is exhausted. She is resting."

"Sydney, are you-?"

"She is resting!"

The clockwork's words were almost hissed, they had been pronounced so harshly, and he thrust the barrel of his rifle towards Benjamin's head, as if to further emphasize them. Yet, what was the most alarming aspect of this whole encounter was not the weapon in the guild leader's face, or even the corpse of Jewel Zabra, lying lifeless and rotting at the foot of the staircase – it was the fact that Sydney had not shown any kind of response.

He had not seen or heard anything that indicated her presence.

It would have been impossible, he knew, for her to leave the island if she had abandoned her ship before sealing herself away, as her ship was now gone –

But then there was the sighting of the Fife, of the ship, sailing through the skyways.

If she's in there, then what's sailing it?

Is she truly here –

Or is she aboard her ship?

Suddenly, this uncertainty became the greatest danger of all.

Lunging forwards, Benjamin grabbed the barrel of the clockwork's rifle, the charge that he fired whizzing past his ear as he twisted the weapon sideways, pinning it to the soldier's chest and holding him fast – musketeers were made to be lightweight, not strong – as he finally reached the top of the platform, Andrew and the rest of his men following suit.

"What is that?!"

The barrels of their muskets and rifles and pistols were all pointed at the thing that was lying just behind the throne, next to an enormous vanity table – the figure of a woman, clothed in black and gold and absolutely drenched in her own dried blood.

Even without looking at her face, they knew – this was Sydney Underhill – and perhaps it was a good thing that they were able to tell so easily, for she no longer had a face to look at. Instead of pale, partially-decayed flesh, there was instead a festering, rotten, and blackened lump of flesh, one area indiscernible from the next as maggots wriggled in and out of the softened, putrefied mass, tunneling whichever way they so pleased.

"She…she just…"

The rusted blade still clenched in her right hand told all.

"I implore you to leave my Commander be, she needs her – "

"She's dead!"

"LEAVE HER BE!"

Shaking, Andrew turned to his cousin, pale and breathless all over again.

"Ben…Ben, please, let's just – "

"SHE IS SLEEPING!" His voice having risen in high urgency, the soldier struggled harder against Benjamin's grip, fighting to break free, for his Commander was in danger, with these strange men pointing weapons at her while she was trying to rest –

Oh, she needed her rest!

"They're coming!" Zachary yelled from where he was standing, twisting his head over his shoulder, and the men atop of the platform froze, listening in horror as the sounds of mechanical marching drew nearer.

The soldiers were coming – even Benjamin himself had known that this diversion would not last infinitely.

"Get Jewel and run!"

"Sir, what about the – "

"Plans are changed! Zachary, hold on for as long as you can – you two, use your coats to carry her, and don't leave anything behind!"

He had been referring to Jewel's internal organs, all in various states of decay, which were strewn about in her immediate area. With reluctance – but yet they did not dare to disobey their leader – the two men that he had motioned to stripped themselves of their coats and vests, quickly but carefully wrapping the corpse, nudging bits and pieces of the swashbuckler's corpse into their makeshift bag as they fought to stay conscious.

This was too much, this was nightmarish, unimaginable –

Already, the marines could be seen at the end of the tunnel stretch, having turned the last corner – Zachary was shaking where he stood, his shirt and vest soaked through with sweat as he grunted from the exertion required to maintain the shield.

"Can't…hold this for…!"

"Just a little longer, Zach, please!"

The two members bearing Jewel's corpse had gone first, retreating back into the crack in the wall that they had entered from.

Benjamin's heart was in his throat.

"Now you, Andrew, go!"

Grabbing the musketeer's shoulder, Benjamin forced him forwards, waiting until he had vanished into the crack before motioning to Zachary.

"Now!"

Thrusting his right arm forwards in a pitching motion, the witchdoctor forced the barrier towards the rushing wave of approaching clockwork soldiers, knocking the first few rows of them over before turning and sprinting towards Benjamin, fueled by pure adrenaline.

Luckily, even though maintaining the barrier had drained Zachary of a large amount of his energy, he was still an incredibly fast sprinter when he needed to be. A wave of relief washed over Benjamin as he felt the soft woosh of air that had been generated as the witchdoctor raced past him, disappearing after the rest of the men and the corpse of the swashbuckler that they were bearing.

Just before he darted after them as the clockwork soldiers began to pour into the central chamber, Benjamin cast one last look up at the top of the stone platform, where the clockwork soldier, the strange soldier with glassy blue eyes, was no longer visible – rather, only a sliver of his hunched form could be seen as he knelt by the unmoving form of his Commander.

His sleeping Commander.

Shivering, Benjamin swallowed down the horror that threatened to consume him, and ran.

Well, I'm finally back after my brief hiatus - things really haven't been going so well for me lately. I don't know yet if I'll be able to update for the next two Sundays because of marching band, but if I can, then I will.

Thank you, and be sure to review!

- Severina