Together Forever, Part 2

Just take it easy, Sayaka! Don't try to move.

It's…it's hopeless.

Don't talk like that! You'll be okay!

What are you idiots doing? Can't you see that we need help here?

Sayaka's hurt!

What's the point in fighting? He's never going to want me.

Sayaka, please. I need to go help. Just rest for now. I'll come back for you, I promise!

No point. Nothing worth fighting for.

What are you talking about, Sayaka? There's lots that's worth fighting for.

No, not anymore.

Sayaka, what are you doing?

There's nothing left…nothing left…

Kyoko, Homura! Something's wrong with Sayaka! She's changing!

…of me.

…

Blue eyes snapped open, and her mouth opened to scream.

PAIN! UNBELIEVABLE PAIN! AGONY, NOTHING BUT AGONY!

She shrieked and writhed as spasms contorted her body. Her upper body was being tortured, with her hands feeling like they were being crushed while a flaming lance had been thrust through her chest.

"HELP!" she shrieked as she tried to run, but something was holding her down. Her hands were being restrained, held in place while being squeezed under immense pressure. She looked to her side. Sure enough, her hand was held in some kind of vice, one that was slowly pressing down on her palm and fingers. Furthermore, there was something wrong with her legs.

A fresh spasm rocked her body. Something waved back and forth in front of her face, something flat and metal. "HELP ME!" she screamed again. "PLEASE!"

What was going on? What was happening to her? Why was she being tortured, and who was responsible? Questions flitted back and forth through her mind, but only in short, fleeting bursts, each one burning in the inferno of pain before any could take root. And to add a helping of insanity on top, over it all her ears were being assaulted by incredibly loud orchestral music.

"ANYBODY!" she called out, though now she wasn't expecting a response. But what else could she do? "PLEASE, HELP!"

And then a miracle happened.

"Hang on!" someone called back, barely audible over the squeal of violins. "I got you!"

A figure moved in front of her sight and a pair of hands gripped the flat metal thing. The lance of pain stabbing through her chest suddenly flared up, and suddenly it was gone. She collapsed forward and started gasping.

The figure moved to her side. She couldn't see what they were doing, but the vice crushing her left hand started to jiggle. She heard something snap, and all of a sudden her hand was free. Still mangled and in agony, but the pressure was gone.

"The fuck did this, why would anyone…" she heard her mysterious rescuer mumble, but by then darkness was already edging onto her mind. Her right hand shook, and then it was free as well.

Finally released from her torture, she slumped forward, her twisted hands held to her burning chest. A pair of strong arms grabbed her before she could fall, and she was gently lowered to the ground.

How long she lay shivering in her rescuer's arms she could not say. Maybe she passed out at some point, she didn't know. However, in time she became aware that the stabbing pain in her chest and the throbbing anguish in her hands had faded, and surprisingly quickly at that. The music continued to play, but she could deal with that.

Blinking, she opened her eyes and looked up at the person in whose arms she was lying.

Her rescuer was a young girl about her age, one who had a slender frame and vibrant scarlet eyes. For some reason she was naked, which was weird but explainable. However, something else was immediately demanding attention.

"Hey," the girl said with a relieved smile, showing a pair of particularly sharp canines. "You're all right!"

The tortured girl relaxed a bit. She knew that face. It was someone she trusted and cared about, someone she knew would look after her and would look after in turn. Her friend had come to save her.

She opened her mouth to say the girl's name. "Keeeyyyyoooo…"

Then she stopped, her brow furrowing in confusion. Just like that the girl's name had disappeared from her mind like the scattered fragments of a dream.

But before she could question the gaps in her memory further, something else then caught her attention, and she went stiff.

"Hey," the girl said, frowning in concern. "You okay?"

"Your hair is on fire!" the tortured girl screamed. She jerked away from the other girl and tried to run, but as it turned out whatever it was that was wrong with her legs was still there, and she just flopped onto her stomach. Rolling onto her back, she scooted away on her elbows.

Meanwhile, startled at her sudden movement, the other girl had jerked back as well, and was now pressed back against some kind of short wall. Bewildered at her new companion's odd behavior, she just stared back at her, oblivious to the fact that the top of her head was still blazing away. "The hell?" she said.

"Your hair!" the tortured girl said again, thrusting her finger at the fiery girl. "It's on fi-"

Then she stopped. Her finger, along with the rest of the hand, was no longer crushed and mangled. In fact, it looked completely fine.

"Excuse me?" the fiery girl said.

Shaking her head, the tortured girl took a deep breath and said for the third time, "Your hair. Is. On fire."

The fiery girl blinked. Then her scarlet eyes rolled upward, as if that would allow her to see. She cautiously reached up with both hands. "Huh?" she said, reaching toward the blaze.

"Wait, stop!" the tortured girl said before the other burned her fingers off.

But instead of burning, her fingers just passed right into the flame. "What?" she said as she groped around in the blaze. She yanked her hands back and stared down at them as the embers drifted from her fingers.

"What the hell?" she said. She started clawing at the fire, trying to get it off of her head. "What the hell, what the hell, what the hell? What is this?"

"You seriously didn't notice?" said the tortured girl. "How can you not notice?"

The fiery girl shot her a look. "You're the one to talk. You're a fish!"

The tortured girl choked. "What?"

"You're a mermaid! Look down!"

The tortured girl stared at her for a time. Then, slowly, hesitantly, she lowered her head to stare down the length of her own body.

The first thing she saw was that she was, like the other girl, completely naked. In other circumstance that might have been a cause for concern, however the fact that from the waist down, her hips, legs, and feet had been replaced by a large fish's tail.

It was a very pretty tail, it must be admitted. The scales were the colors of flame and water, bright pinks and yellows clashing with cool blues and greens, with black in between. The fins were an especially striking display, with the colors flaring out like a rainbow. However, as attractive as it might be, that didn't change the fact that it was there was still a freaking fish's tail where her legs ought to be.

"What," the mermaid said flatly.

"You didn't know?" said the fiery girl.

"N-no, I…" The mermaid reached down to run a hand over the scales. They were cool and dry to the touch, and tingled as her fingers passed over. Yup, it was hers all right.

Letting both the hand and her head drop, she stared up at the ceiling and slowly breathed out. "Oh boy," she said.

A beat passed. And then the fiery girl said, "So…do you have any idea what the hell is going on? Because I don't have a clue."

Still staring upward, the mermaid shrugged. "Nope. No idea. I woke up and I was-"

Her newly restored hands twitched as a phantom pain shot through her fingers. Swallowing, she forced herself to finish. "-being tortured."

"Yeah. Me too."

The mermaid propped herself up on her elbows. The fiery girl had drawn up her legs to her chin and was leaning back against the low wall, arms draped over her knees and eyes staring vaguely upward. She looked completely lost.

Then other things came to her notice. By the fiery girl's feet lay a gleaming silver cutlass, its blade sharp and its hilt ornate. The mermaid stared at it for a time, wondering why it seemed so familiar.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. That flat metal thing that had been impaled into her heart. That was it. She had been stabbed with that sword.

Her chest clenched up, and immediately put a hand over her breast, just to confirm that there was no longer a gaping wound. Nope. Just like her hands, her chest had healed right up.

Then she noticed something else. Next to the fiery girl's side was a red spear, one with a large, triangular head at one end and a round counterweight at the other. Presumably that was what she had used to destroy the vices.

Speaking of which, between the two and a little to the left was a very nice looking chair, one that was elegantly carved and seated with blue velvet. To either side was a round wooden table with a single leg each. And on top of both was the mangled remains of a pair of sadistic looking hand vices. The mermaid swallowed, the memory of the agony they had forced upon her still all too fresh.

The music was still playing, though the source was unseen. Presumably it was somewhere beyond that short wall.

"Um, hey," the mermaid said as she struggled to sit up. "Can you help me? I wanna see what's out there."

The fiery girl frowned. "You sure? It's, uh, kind of weird."

"So what else is new?" The mermaid held out her hands, beckoning. "C'mon. Help me out here."

Shrugging, the fiery girl got up and walked over to help. Sticking her arms under the mermaid's armpits, she lifted her up and brought her over to wall so she could look out.

As it turned out, the room that they were in was some kind of theater, with rows and rows of blue seats facing a stage. The two of them were in a private box smack dab center of the audience, giving them the best view in the house. Not that it mattered, because apparently this was a private show. Each and every one of the seats and all the other boxes were empty.

As for the show itself, true to the fiery girl's word, it was…weird. An all-string orchestra was performing, sawing away at their instruments. However, the musicians all seemed to be marionettes, with blank painted faces and shaggy grey wigs. They were dressed in some kind of cream-colored uniform, like the kind boys would wear at an upscale high-school.

The marionettes were all manipulated by strings leading up to the top of the stage, where they were operated by a troupe of puppeteers. Except…the mermaid frowned. Except that the puppeteers all seemed to be puppets themselves. They were made to look like young girls with long green hair and dressed in the female alternative to the uniforms that the musicians were wearing. Their arms moved stiffly back and forth, making the musicians play on, but what it was that was moving them the mermaid could not see.

And sitting on stage behind it all was a large wooden backdrop of a weird armored, caped, mermaid thing, one with outstretched arms and a sword in one hand.

Nothing about the bizarre puppet show made any sense, but the more the mermaid stared at it, the more unsettling it became. It was intended for her, as much a method of torture as the vices and the sword, that much was certain. But what it actually meant she could not say, save that it was as disturbing as it was confusing.

"Put me down," she said.

The fiery girl gently lowered her so that she was leaning against the box's wall. Then with a sigh, she sat down next to her.

"It was the same deal when I woke up," the fiery girl said. "Well, not exactly the same. I was being crucified in some psycho church with a bunch of suicidal dummies. But the general freak show aesthetic was the same. Whoever it is that brought us here, they really want to-" Then she cut herself off and looked at the mermaid in concern. "Um, hey. Are you all right?"

The mermaid miserably shook her head. Her throat had thickened up and the tears were already starting to flow. She bowed her head, her shoulders trembling as the sobs started to come out.

"Aw jeez," the fiery girl muttered. "Um, here." She put her arms around the mermaid's shoulder and gently brought her closer, holding onto her when she cried. "You're good. Don't worry, I had to do the same thing right after I got out of mine."

In time the tears stopping flowing and her body stopped trembling. Sniffing, the mermaid drew back. "Thanks," she muttered, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist.

"Don't sweat it."

The mermaid leaned back against the wall again. "Just…what's happening to us?"

"Told'ja already. Don't have a clue. Hey, is your memory as blank as mine? 'Cause I've been wracking my brain to remember something, but nothing's popping up."

"The same," the mermaid admitted.

"Of course," the fiery girl muttered. "It wasn't enough to kidnap us, turn us into monsters, and torture us in some kind of freak show, but they gotta give us amnesia on top of it. Hey, we gotta get out of here." She started to stand, but then paused. "Um, hey. What about your name? Did they leave you that at least?"

The mermaid almost said no, but as soon as the question was introduced to her mind, the answer suddenly revealed itself, a set of strange syllables that she was sure that she had never heard before but somehow knew beyond a shadow of doubt meant her.

"Uh," she said as she ran her fingers through her hair. "I…I do. It's, uh, it's…Oktavia? Um, Oktavia von Seckendorff."

"Jeez, that's a mouthful. Well, Oktavia. My name is, as far as I can tell, Ophelia."

"Ophelia," Oktavia said, rolling then name around on her tongue. "Well, that's a pretty name."

"Thanks. I think."

"Do you have a family name?"

Ophelia shook her head.

"Well, um. Okay. That…doesn't make any sense." Oktavia forced a sort of half smile. "But hey! What does?" She held out her hand. "Er, nice to meet you. Thanks for saving me."

"Charmed," Ophelia said, shaking her hand. "All right, pleasantries are over. Let's get the hell out of here."

"Agreed." Oktavia then looked down at her lap. "But, um, problem? How exactly do we do that?"

…

The circular room of marble monsters was unchanged, their stone visages still staring out at the four doors. Oktavia made a surprised noise upon seeing them.

"Yeah. Freaky, ain't they?" Ophelia said, looking up at the armored mermaid.

"What the heck are those things?" Oktavia said.

"Wish I knew," Ophelia said. She nodded toward the armored mermaid. "But that was painted into the back of that stage, remember?" She then looked toward the robed being with the flaming candle for a head. "And that freak was in a stained glass window in my room."

Given Oktavia's lack of the necessary number of limbs required for walking, running, or any useful form of movement, getting her around really was a problem. Ophelia had wanted to keep her hands free, so she had suggested that Oktavia ride on her back, but the mermaid had vetoed anything that would take her face that close to the live fire Ophelia was carrying around on her head. Carrying her over or across the shoulders also didn't work out, so in the end the only thing they could do was have her taken out in a bridal carry, with Oktavia holding tight to their weapons. It worked, but was also pretty awkward for both of them, and Ophelia had made it clear that should they be attacked, the mermaid was going to get dropped pretty quickly.

Surprisingly, as inconvenient as the arrangement might be, carrying her proved to be much less of a burden than Ophelia anticipated. Either the mermaid was a lot lighter than she looked or Ophelia was a lot stronger. Still, it wasn't exactly comfortable for either of them.

There was a pause, and then Oktavia said, "Um, Ophelia? You did notice that they kinda-"

"I know, I know," Ophelia sighed. Both Oktavia and the armored creature were mermaids. And she apparently had most of her hair on fire like the candle thing. What that actually meant she didn't know, but it couldn't be anything good. "Just another stupid clue that doesn't make any goddamned sense."

"And your room was like mine?"

Ophelia swallowed. "Y-Yeah. I mean, different theme, same idea."

"Oh." Oktavia shifted around to get a better look at the other two. "So, the other two rooms, does that mean we'll find more people like us?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Worth checking out though."

"Oh." Oktavia slumped back into Ophelia's arms. "Um, okay."

Ophelia looked down at her in concern. "Uh, do you need to cry again?"

Oktavia let out a small laugh. "No. No, I….But hey, you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"About what?"

"About this place. You know, where we are and what happened to us?"

Ophelia swallowed. "I'd…rather not think of that now, thanks."

"Well, we're going to have to sooner or later."

"Then let's make it later. So, which one should we try first?"

Ophelia looked from one doll things to the other. Then she shrugged. "Well, one's as good as the other, right. Let me just set you down here…" She gently lowered Oktavia to the floor against the circular wall. "Okay, let's try this one." With that, she went over to the apartment door with the car door handle.

She opened it up and looked in. "Oh," she said. "Um, problem."

Oktavia scooted over to see.

The interior was…weird. Instead of a room, it was a diagonal tunnel, sloping downward. Its theme seemed based around tea parties and roads, with tea sets sitting on tables stuck in random places and road signs jutting out here and there and hanging from above.

But the worrying part was that the whole thing seemed to be made of hundreds, if not thousands of red and yellow ribbons, all tightly woven together. The tunnel swayed back and forth, suggesting that whatever it was that was holding it up wasn't exactly steady.

Oktavia swallowed. She did not relish the idea of being carried down that.

"Yeah, I know," Ophelia said. "I'd have to leave you behind."

"I don't want that."

"Understandable. Maybe we should try-"

Then they heard the sound of a car revving up, deep down inside. Tires squealed and then there was the sound of a crash.

And then a distinctively feminine voice cried out in pain. It did not last long.

Ophelia winced. "Damn it. Look, just stay here. I'll go help her."

Oktavia felt a rush of fear. "No, wait. Don't leave me-"

But Ophelia was already heading down the tunnel, spear in hand. "Just stay here, I'll be right back!"

"Ophelia!" Oktavia cried, but her new friend was already gone.