Chapter 34: The Dead

Elizabeth's Perspective.

The streets outside the bank were deserted, contrary to what I expected after that huge display the Vox showed us. Then again, all the traps inside the building were tripped, which I assumed meant most of them had gotten killed and whoever hadn't had shipped out of here while we were in the bank. So that was a plus.

I tried to think about the whole headache issue that Lucy and Will were having, though. What about my tears could be making them so miserable? And should I keep doing the tears if they can't put up with it? It tore me up inside to think I was hurting them by doing something I'd thought was so innocent. And I'd never known that it hurt them so much, so I'd been unintentionally putting Will through an experience such as that. And Lucy, too. I promised myself I'd refrain from using tears as much as possible.

And now we were in front of Comstock house again, back to where we'd been. But something was different this time; Lady Comstock - the ghost one, that is - was flying around to the statue, wailing like a banshee, and in front of her was our friend from earlier; the raven guy. He stood there, looking up at her in delight, until he spotted us - however he did that. "Oh, my friends!" He ran towards us, "I have informed Lady Comstock of your plight. She will grant you an audience, if you'd like! I must thank you for saving me, friends, I must, but we'll do that at a more proper time." He beckoned us over, "Come, come!"

Maybe Will saving him hadn't been the best idea in the first place. He'd turn against us anyways after Lady Comstock attacked us, so him being alive seems to just be a problem. "So, you got a name?" asked Will.

"Shh!" He raised his finger to his lips - or where they would've been, if he wasn't wearing his uniform. Will raised his hands defensively, nonchalantly, and this Raven turned towards Lady Comstock. "My dear Lady, who blesses me with her presence, I have brought fellow worshipers who have a plight! They need entrance to Comstock house, and I know for a fact they are not sinners. They have saved me, only for faith. I pray that you listen to what they have to say. Come forth, friends!" He beckoned us over again, cackling maniacally. This guy must have some head problems.

Booker begrudgingly stepped forward and waved to the ghost. "Miss Comstock," he said, respectfully.

And that was when the fun started, if you could call it fun. My mother started shouting again, now hovering in one place. "Bastard child!" it shouted again.

I ran forwards and stood in front of it. "I'm not your bastard!" I shouted. Might as well try to negotiate while I can. "You are not my mother. Rosalind Lutece isn't either. But you're both dead because of me. . I-I don't know what I am. . . But I didn't do anything, I promise!"

And then my mother's ghost screamed again. Furiously. It wasn't anything literate, it was just a furious scream, and then the corpses of business men, citizens, and soldiers alike raised from the ground, enveloped in white mist. "O-Oh no!" shouted our Raven friend. "You have angered her! How could you have angered her?" he shouted. I saw him sprinting away, and I guessed that that was a problem solved.

"Booker, suggestion: How about, instead of giving her corpses to resurrect, we just get rid of them? I mean, they're already trying to kill us. Use some of that Devil's Kiss stuff, and Shock Jockey. Get rid of 'em, so they don't come back." Will pulled out Sally and fired from the hip into three men's heads, as he often did, and they all dropped, lacking the aforementioned heads now. He was a really good shot. Then again, these things all originated from tears, so he was probably miserable right now, and I felt a twang of guilt in my chest. No time for guilt, though.

Something in the corner of my eye caught my attention - a tear. And inside the tear were three mosquito turrets, which could easily help us obliterate the squad in front of us. I bit my lip, restraining myself from calling it in. "Booker?" I asked. "Should I?"

He knew what I was talking about. "It ain't my problem, go ahead!"

"I'm sorry!" I shouted. I ripped the mosquitoes into reality, and I heard Will scream in pain slightly. He dropped to his knees behind cover, and I noticed he had fired Sally exactly as the tear had been called in. And gunshots, specifically ones from a weapon of such high power, must hurt your ears when you've got some crazy headache. I felt another, more severe twang of guilt this time. But he and Lucy both recovered after some time, going back to their tasks.

Booker was obliterating the field - quite literally. Most people were turning into ashes in front of him at the hands of Devil's Kiss. I made a note to keep an eye out for salts, but perhaps calling in the Mosquitoes was a bad idea; they were just killing people, who were soon to get brought back by Lady Comstock. Speaking of Lady Comstock, her combat pattern was a little odd. She'd fly towards one of the boys and start wrapping the area in some kind of mist. Then, they flew backwards, suffering varying amounts of damage, though Will usually appeared in much more pain.

"Booker, you need to do a better job of burning these people! There are still way too many!" shouted Will.

"I'm trying my damnedest, but you're not exactly helping!" he replied, throwing another grenade at them.

"Oh, please, allow me to help! Would you like me to water them to ashes? Or stab them? That might work, you know!" He pulled the trigger again, but Sally's barrel was empty. He flicked it to the side and put another six bullets in with admirable speed, before flicking the barrel back in and spinning it, before it locked back into place.

"Drop the sarcasm and help me out here!" Booker was literally wrestling with the dead people. Most of the ones with guns had already been handled, so it was just the ones with bludgeons and fists that he needed to handle. That probably would've been easy if it wasn't for Lady Comstock. She blasted her white mist towards the boys every time they managed to get close to defeating the people.

"You know what?" called Will. "I'll keep an eye on Lady Comstock. You handle these things!" Will grabbed his knife off his belt and ran towards Lady Comstock, dragging it through her closely head. "Come and get me!" He started off in a sprint around the plaza, bringing Comstock with him. I couldn't tell, but she certainly didn't look happy.

Now Booker had some wiggle room. "Thanks, pal," he shouted, condensing a ball of fire in his palm. He hurled it towards the crowd of people, who tumbled to the side, now on fire. Flames licked at their flesh, and more than a few of them disintegrated right then. Booker took a few minutes to handle the rest of them, which was relatively easy, and then he was able to turn his attention to Lady Comstock.

I grabbed a bottle of salts off the bench and tossed it towards him. "Booker, salts!" He caught it just in time and nodded, downing the bottle. Then he turned his attention to Lady Comstock, who was getting holes punched in her left and right by the mosquitoes up above. Will didn't take much time to shoot her, busy running around and occasionally turning around to see where she was and make sure he evaded the strikes. As for Lucy, she was sitting with her back against the statue, mumbling to herself. Whether out of pain or fear, I wasn't sure.

Comstock flung Will and Booker back, until they were standing in front of the gate to Comstock House. She stood in front of the statue of herself, wrapping it in the same mist that she was wrapped in herself. She was given full form, and screamed at them, tendrils of smoke starting to appear in the air and travel towards them.

"Wait!" I shouted. I ran in front of them. "Wait! I'm not your bastard, I tell you!"

"He wanted you more than me! He loved you more than me!" My false mother shouted at me, the air growing colder as she got angrier.

"He pretended to love you! Just like he pretended to love me!"

"No, he loved me!" she shouted.

"No, he didn't! Look, I'm angry with him too, but for this to work, we have to forgive each other!" I shouted. It wasn't just a negotiation tactic, I meant it. My mother wasn't as terrible as I'd initially thought. Propaganda said one thing, but she just suffered an ill fate, like I did. "Please, forgive me!" I shouted.

Suddenly, the air around us chilled, and she stopped in midair. She didn't move a muscle, assuming she had any. "What am I?" she asked. Her voice was normal now. She wasn't screaming, but talking in a silent tone.

"You're . . ." I couldn't think of a genuine answer to give her. "Dead."

"Why am I alive?" she asked. "Why do I feel things?"

I took a moment to contemplate the answer. "This version of you . . . isn't alive. But perhaps, in another world, this is you. This is you in a world, where you never met him. . ."

She sounded enlightened, and happy. "Or one where I fixed him?" Her tone was almost hopeful.

"Possibly," I replied.

"Find out, child," she said. "Find out." Then, she flew up again, and rushed towards the gate to Comstock house. In a flurry of wind, the door burst open, and part of it . . . disintegrated. Um. Okay.

"I think that's settled," said Will, standing up. He put his hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

I nodded. "She probably found something to be happy about, now. Maybe she's floating around in another dimension, being happy with myself." I took a moment to contemplate what my life would've been like if I had grown up with a regular family, and her as my mother. She didn't seem cold or heartless. She was just hurt by the betrayal of the man she thought she would love forever. I would probably feel the same way, but I hoped it would never happen.

He smiled at me, but then he was knocked to the side by a fist to the face. "You!" shouted the Raven person from earlier. "And you! All of you!" He was back, but now, I'm pretty sure he was angry. And he had one of the golden swords from the various displays around Columbia. "You've all gone and done it! Our fair lady is gone again!" He swung the sword down at Will, but Will grabbed him by the wrist, twisted the sword, and put it to his own neck.

"Look, pal, I'm getting a little sick of all the crazy people in this place. And you're not doing me any favors." The tables had completely turned. Will was now the one in a blind rage, while the raven could only sit and watch. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you right now, and maybe I'll consider." The man started to stutter, trying to come up with something, but Will tossed him away. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned around, ignoring him. "Go away." Those two words worked wonders, and the raven sprinted away, laughing with either fear or bemusement.

Lucy finally popped out from behind the statue. "A-Are all the dead people dead again?"

I laughed slightly. "Yes, they're all dead again." I looked towards the two of them. "How do your heads feel."

"If you want honesty, someone just stuck a drill in my ear and set it to spin for eternity. Why?" The bluntness with which he said it kind of hurt, but I decided to shrug it off.

"I'm sorry," I replied. "It just needed to be done. I'm sure you understand, right?" I said, sarcastically.

"Of course I do. Now c'mon, the gate is open." He turned on his heels, and I took a moment to consider just how lucky I really was. Even if the price of it was this whole miserable thing, the people I was spending time with were amazing, and if this was the way I had to meet them, then so be it. I could manage with that as my hand.

The bridge over to Comstock house was like a gondola, but instead of a boat, it was one large platform. "How're you on ammo, Booker?" asked Will. "I'm as dry as Nevada."

"I'm not quite that low, but I reckon we'll need a restock some time soon." He punched the button at the far side, setting it to move. The platform was literally slower than molasses, though, and with the distance we were from Comstock house, I took it upon myself to assume it was a long ride.

The sky was growing more and more ominous as we approached. Lightning flashed, the clouds grew dark, and everything screamed ominous to me. Even the glorious design of Comstock house, which was designed to please the people, lurched above us as if it was an evil construction designed purely to pose opposition. Though, I suppose I would see it like that, with my opinion of Comstock.

"So this is it," I said. "Is this really it? Are we going to get out of here?"

"Yep. We finish this, and then we're done." Booker smiled wryly.

"Goddammit." Will said again.

We looked at him with puzzled expressions. "What?. . ."

"You ruined it again, Booker. Positive thoughts in a negative environment almost always result in bad things."

And, as if on cue, we heard the telltale shriek of the Songbird and I saw its silhouette shaded against the clouds, the only thing visibly its eye. It landed next to us, grabbed Booker and Will, and then hurled them - both of them - towards one of the buildings behind us. They flew through the window, and then, I felt its hand wrap around my body and it carried me off, leaving Lucy stranded on the platform. "Elizabeth!"

It was too late for her to save me, though. Songbird dropped me around the rim of the building and then grabbed a segment of the roof, and I watched as he uprooted it with ease. He hurled it to the side and then climbed inside the building, standing over Booker. It scanned him with yellow light, and I rushed inside, trying to save him. The Songbird would launch its attack at any minute. I pulled aside debris, somewhat angry at the fact that I was wearing a dress right now, and I ran in front of them just as Songbird plunged his fist downwards. "Stop it!"

Songbird's eye flashed from red, to green, and then he looked at me, bathing me in light. I glanced towards Booker, hoping he remembered our deal from earlier. Don't let him take me. Please. Please, don't let him take me.

Songbird reached towards me, preparing to wrap me in his hand again. I was completely and entirely obedient, but he didn't grab me. His hand got blasted away by a spray of water, and then another one wrapped around it. Will was standing on the other side of the room, quite literally wrestling with Songbird, though his limbs were enveloped with water. "Don't touch her, you little bastard bird! I may not be twenty feet tall, but I pack one hell of a punch!" The only weapon he had in his hand was a knife. He had either lost Sally, or she was dry on ammo.

Will threw Songbird towards the other side of the room with water, and his eyes shifted from green, to yellow, to bright red. Violent red. He shrieked and charged towards Will, as well as a bird could, but Will was just too fast for it. He jumped on top of its arm, and then onto its head, driving the knife into the leather canvas the Songbird was constructed out of. It didn't seem to be doing anything, but I was amazed that he was even fighting the Songbird. Love can make a man do crazy things, I guess.

Will plunged the knife down into Songbird's cracked eye, and I think that was when the straw broke the camel's back. He lurched, flinging Will off of his back. I watched the scene with horror as Will flew into the air and then slammed into the ground. He started to sit up, but Songbird grabbed him, tightened his grip around his chest. Then, he hurled Will into the air, watched him hit the ceiling, and then, as he fell, he slammed his fist into him, which sent him towards the floor once again. Will landed to the ground, still. He didn't move, or scream in pain, or anything. His body sat there, face down on the ground.

Holding back tears was impossible. I started to run towards him, to check if he was alive, screaming incomprehensible things at the top of my lungs. As I was about to lean next to him, Songbird grabbed me and ripped me back into the air. The very last thing I saw in that building was his body, sitting there, probably dead, and all I could think about was how completely unlucky I was, right then. I've just lost . . . One of the most important things in the world. He was gone now. He had to be. I clawed at Songbird's hands, but it didn't work. It never had worked, and it never would. I was to be trapped again, and better yet, the very last thing I saw was Will getting beaten by Songbird's giant fist. "I'll never forgive you for this!" I shouted. "You've stolen the very most important thing from me!" I wasn't sure if it understood me, but it almost looked a little sad. Its eyes flashed to green, and it tried to pat my head against its beak to show friendship. "I'll never forget this. I'll always hate you."

I missed him more than anything, and he'd only been gone for thirty seconds.