The pounding of heavy rain, weighing down
all ears and tails…
The roar of heavy rain as well…
The howling of the wind…
The random flash of lightning that filtered
through heavy eyelids…
The crack of thunder above…
The scent of water and mud below…
The feel of mud and wet fur all over…
The taste of dirt, water, feathers, and
blood…
The shivering as hypothermia continued
to set in…
And the feeling of PAIN…
So much, in fact, that they could feel
every single raindrop smashing painfully on their bodies, as well as the
resounding booms of the thunderclaps, not to mention each involuntary muscle
twitch as their bodies quivered.
Dale, Foxglove, Otis, and Clarice slowly
opened their misted eyes.
Dale raised his sore head a little, painfully
spitting out some feathers, mud and blood from his mouth.
Foxglove coughed out some water, sending
shocks through her right shoulder and five other joints as well.
Otis' consciousness faded in and out for
a moment, before finally settling in.
Clarice would have normally liked cool
water over her injury, but right now, the heavy raindrops were getting
*very* annoying.
Slowly and with great pain, all turned
and looked/echosounded at the owl lady, who was lit by yet another flash
of lightning.
She was with her feet up in the air, her
wings at her sides, and her head quite plastered on the cement, with rainwater
washing away the blood that was coming out of it. Strigidæ's right
foot twitched momentarily, and then it went limp.
The Great Strigidæ, Lady and Guardian
Of The Park, was dead.
She had fallen headfirst on the cement
path, near the edge, and Dale had been thrown down to the mud next to the
cement. He slowly stood, with his ribs grinding within him, as well as
all his muscles protesting, and with the rain washing away the mud and
blood from his body. He fought as he tried not to moan, aside from trying
to keep his consciousness on line as well.
Foxglove had fallen on the cement next
to the owl lady. She could only use her left wing to stand now, though
her chest muscles were now completely powerless. Her right shoulder, left
wrist, both knees, left ankle, and neck screamed messages of injury to
her brain.
Otis had fallen with Clarice some distance
away, but still on the cement path. He slowly bent over and licked his
sides for a moment, and stood, also with his pectorals out of commission.
He almost fell back down as a sudden dizziness overpowered him. He fought
it, and almost lost, and then focused on the chipmunkmaid next to him.
Clarice now had scraped knees and right
elbow. Her back was very much killing her, or at least assaulting her.
She too, stood, with Otis' help.
And all looked/echosounded at their deed.
Dale and Foxglove, panting exhaustedly,
looked and echosounded at each other, and felt ashamed. The Husband and
Wife would have never deliberately killed another creature, even to save
another. Both were truly dead.
*But even with the Comedian and the Clown
gone,* they realised, *danger was still all around them…*
Otis painfully padded toward Dale and Clarice
toward Foxglove, with more wind gusts nearly knocking them over. The others
were coming behind them now; all with limp ears and tails, all being slowed
down by increasing arthritis and the onset of hypothermia and all the wind,
and all were completely incredulous as to what had happened.
Otis wasn't too sure of what to make of
this. This was certainly not the first time he had seen and heard death,
but it *was* the first time he had seen and heard someone impose it. And
the fact that it had been the sister he loved was a trifle more than what
he could fathom.
Clarice had plenty of moments in her life
in which she actually *felt* like killing someone, but she had kept enough
sense to always hold herself back. And because she knew that the chipmunk
she loved was a crime fighter, she had previously tried to convince herself
that this came with the job: killing the bad guys as a last resort. She
had seen plenty of movies to support that theory, but now, seeing it actually
happen in front of her had left her totally numb. The male she had fallen
in love with was *capable* and *willing* to take another life, in the name
of justice, or survival, at least. She did not know what she felt about
Dale anymore, or so she thought.
Chip was speechless. The Comedian he knew
would have never done this. If so, then the Comedian died back at Fat Cat's
lair, when Dale threatened Fat Cat that he would kill him if he tried anything
else against Foxglove. He knew, he *finally* knew, that the Goof-up and
Klutz and Clown and Comedian they all knew and loved was gone forever,
with this final action throwing the switch, signing the death certificate,
and sealing the tomb. He looked at the most beautiful mus in the world
again, who happened to be supporting him because of his massive leg injury.
Her beautiful headfur *still* looked beautiful even when it hung in soaked
strands. Her ears were still cute even though they hung limp on the sides
of her head. Her pained blue eyes were as loveable as ever. The eyes looked
back at him.
Gadget *never* considered killing as a
logical option, not even as a final one, even when she herself felt such
fury and it was possible that they, that *she* may have pushed Dale into
doing this, after all they pain that they, that *she* caused him besides
the fact that the owl lady tried to kill them all but she must have had
her reasons as illogical as they may have been, in which case they could
have sent a larger team here and subdued her somehow and then taken her
to a mental institution or some place where she could be helped, or detained,
at least, and if they couldn't then there *had* to be another way but now
it was too late because a life was lost so all of them could live and she
couldn't do anything about it and what pained her most of all was that
*this* was the life that she had chosen, *this* is what it meant to be
a Rescue Ranger, *this* was the life that awaited her family—
She looked at the most handsome tamias
in the world.
He was right.
There was NO WAY she wanted her cubs to
live through *this*.
Monterey, with a swollen and bleeding face,
came up holding Zipper on his shoulder, who now sported a small crack on
his right facial exoskeleton. And both could not believe that Dale actually
had it in him to do something like this. This was something they expected
from RamDale, a pre-fabricated personality, but never from Dale's own heart.
But he *had* killed the Entertainment Expert, *and* the Goof-up, *and*
the Klutz, *and* the Clown, *and* the *Comedian*.
Hastahah had killed Segoleh.
This was just a culmination of all the
previous executions. Dale was most definitely dead.
Feyyanna, Richard, and Rosie came up last,
with all bandages gone now. They, too, saw and heard what happened, and
they didn't know how to feel. Seeing and hearing Foxglove suddenly taking
off with Dale hanging from her foot-paws, despite her injury and the heavy
rain, was shocking enough, but this………*this*…
The pipistrell couple wondered if they
should feel proud now that all of the other chiropterid families who were
killed by this owl lady were finally avenged, by a daughter of a victim,
nonetheless. But they didn't feel happy.
They felt *scared*.
Would other owls hear of this and try to
take vengeance on *them* now?
As they all approached the dead owl lady,
some mice of an RAS medical team ran up from behind them, as well as another
flock of bats.
Dale painfully padded off the mud and back
on the cement, and limped toward Otis, wincing as several ribs ground together
within him, highlighting the pain in his upper snout. Foxglove limped toward
Clarice, with her right wing hanging uselessly at her side.
Otis saw and heard a muddy and bloody chipmunk,
with sunken eyes and cheeks that almost reminded him of a skull.
Clarice *knew* Foxglove was beautiful,
but now, she looked too much like some characters in some horror flicks
she saw a while back…
"Otis, please take care of Foxy! She's
*very* special, and she's great and everythin', perhaps——you deserve her
more than me!" Even speaking was incredibly painful for Dale now, with
his upper jaw almost numb from the horrible pain. And his voice was slow,
hoarse, almost as if he were speaking from beyond the grave. The rain,
wind, and thunder weren't helping much, either. Otis took a moment to register
what Dale said, and took another moment to reply,
"Dale, don't say that! You two just risked
your lives to save us! That—is saying *something*!" They had to speak loud
enough to make themselves heard above the rain, but even their vocal strength
was rapidly fading.
"I know! But I can't take her back, not
now, not ever! It's all over between us! It's all gone now!"
"Dale, you *need* to get back together!!
You will *die* if you don't!! And she will, too!!" Otis almost fainted
from his exertions.
"Otis, I died the night she was kidnapped!
I'm not Dale Segoleh anymore, I'm Dale Hastahah!" The bat wasn't too sure
what the chipmunk meant by that, but he knew that it couldn't be anything
good. Meanwhile, the batmaid finally met the chipmunkmaid.
"You're Foxglove?! Pleased to meet you,
honey!" she was finally able to say, despite the present circumstances,
as she tried to stop her body from quivering.
"And you're Clarice!" she replied, also
quivering. "I hear you're a good friend of Dale's! Please don't think of
me as rude, but I can't shake your paw right now! All my joints are killing
me, just like the rest of my body!"
"Foxglove, don't talk that way! I'm sure
you will recover if you and Dale just—!"
"Clarice, we can't get back together! It's
too late now! You, however, seem like someone he could like very very much!"
The chipmunkmaid sighed,
"Foxy, I love Dale too, yes, but I also
know when someone loves him more than I ever could! You *need* each other,
Foxy!!!"
"We *need-ED* each other, but it's all
over now! We've changed too much to even try to get back together—we—realised
that the other night! And tonight—well—we were confirmed of that!!!"
"Because you killed the owl lady?!"
"Because we killed a living creature, Clarice!
I have never felt so much anger at one animal—ever! She——she *did* kill
my parents—but it wasn't just *that*! Even when she threatened to kill
us, I never wanted to kill her, until everything just started happening
so fast and—and——that's when I knew—that Foxglove was *dead*!" Clarice
had to think fast. She had to save them *both* from self-destruction, but
what—
"Say Foxglove, if I could get you two back
together, will you promise me to be good to him?!"
"Clarice, it can't happen! We've already
talked, and——it's impossible!"
"But have you tried *all* the options?!"
"What else could we try?! There's no way
we can resurrect our old selves now!" Clarice sighed. She lowered her voice
so only Foxglove could hear her. It still didn't matter, because all the
present weather was drowning them out to the point that even Otis could
not hear them. Also, all throats were getting hoarse from all the yelling.
Even their beautiful and soothing voices had been destroyed.
"Have you tried………?!" Foxglove echosounded
at her, uneasy.
"No—! But—how can that work if it didn't
work on *me* before?!"
"We'll try a different approach! And if
it fails, I myself will pay for your funerals, your REAL funerals! You
two are dying NOW, and only YOU TWO can save each other!" It finally hit
her. Foxglove felt like crying again, but this time, she knew *why* she
couldn't cry. This time, the rain appeared to help a bit, as it washed
her eyes, along with everyone else's. The faintest spark in *her* eyes
now lit up, still ailing, though. Her ears twitched a bit as they tried
to perk up,
"Clarice, I love him so much—I *want* him
back! What you suggest may be very far fetched, but—but——Clarice, I'm *dying*!
We're *both* dying! Please, help us!" The chipmunkmaid smiled.
"Wait, then, until we recover a bit! You'll
need to get *ALL* of your strength back in order to do this!!" They all
turned and limped back to the others, and no one knew if they were quivering
from nervousness, fear, hypothermia, sudden imbalance brought by the wind,
or all of the above.
Dale and Foxglove crossed paths one more
time.
They looked/echosounded at each other as
they did.
Sadness.
Despair.
Hopelessness.
Death.
And yet, one glimmer of faith, of hope
against hope, within one certain chiropterid…
The groups parted, with Richard, Rosie,
Foxglove, Feyyanna, and Otis padding toward the other bats, and Clarice
and the Rescue Rangers padding toward the RAS medical team.
And both groups parted their ways and painfully
padded out of the park, with arthritis coming back on them with a vengeance
as it was highlighted by the hypothermal shivers, as the rain continued
to pour down on them…
