Okay, I'm actually on time this week! Technically, I was on time last week, too, but just barely, so I'm pleased that I managed to remember and prepare for today.
There's not much for me to say here at the top, but I think I edited this one down pretty well; cutting a lot of fluff while still keeping the tone I wanted. Anyway, I won't keep you long, so see you at the bottom of the page!
Chapter 10: Being Tormented; Part 5
The ground was hard, but I snuggled into it as if it were a pillow, content with the memories replaying in my head. A friend holding me close, a comforting rhythm, a name spilling from my mouth like a child's favorite word.
Gradually, though, these memories faded, and my eyes slid open. The room was still dark, but not impossibly dark. There was someone else there.
"Noa-huh…?" I blinked slowly and looked up.
"I would say you were adorable while sleeping, but, well…" Materna's frown became a smile. "I'm sure you already knew that, my dear."
I stared. Her presence should have sent me into a nervous breakdown, but… it didn't.
Naoki's presence had filled me with something that had yet to go away; a small but bold spark. Was this determination?
"Why were you frowning?" I rasped, then blinked in surprise.
My voice seemed to catch Materna's attention, too. "Your throat must be quite strained, hm?"
I shrugged. It was starting to hurt a little more, but I wanted to stay focused.
"You know," she looked off at a spot above me, and I turned my head to see her staring out of the barred window in the cell. "I could hear you crying for quite some time, before you tired yourself out. And…" her smile turned mean, "your cries reminded me of the sounds my children made when you killed them."
I frowned, wanting to make a snide comment about how she hadn't cared when Naoki ceased to exist, but his panicked request for me to not purposefully call her out on her mothering rang clear. I remained silent.
"You don't deny it," she noted. I shrugged again. She narrowed her eyes.
"I'm tired," I explained, "and you still haven't answered my question. Why were you frowning?"
Her mouth twisted to the side. "You were talking in your sleep. Nonsense words."
I shook my head. "Naoki's name."
Materna blinked at me, slowly shaking her head. "'Naoki' doesn't exist—"
"He does!" In a blur of aching limbs and a migraine, I was on my feet. I refused to back down.
"We talked. He was here." I pointed at the ground. "He told me about why he did what he did; why he helped me. Did you know he thought of you as family? He called you his mother," I looked down at my hands; at my wrists, "and you treated him like nothing."
The jewels on the charm bracelets hadn't come to life. Yet.
I looked up at her, ready to continue, but stopped when I saw her face. Confusion, pity, and worst of all: concern. Genuine concern that I had lost my mind.
My hands became fists. "Don't pity me," I snapped. "He's real. I know he is." Her expression turned blank, and I flushed angrily.
"Breaking points are interesting, aren't they, my dear?" She mused. She held up a hand as if to placate me. "Let's not discuss this now. There are important matters for us to attend to."
I crossed my arms, trying very hard not to spit at her.
"While you were in the mansion that I created in the movie theater, my children were supposed to be able to track your location via your magic. However, your magic often diluted itself—and by extension, you—from visibility. That's why my children couldn't find you when you were hiding… most of the time. When your attention was focused on something besides your safety, you were clearly visible. Hence why you were found in the study. And then… well…" she looked at me. "You know what happened."
"Naoki saved me," I said.
She shook her head in that irritatingly pitying way. "A glitch; nothing more."
"But-!"
"The fact that your magic could dilute itself unbeknownst to you made me realize that your magic was, at the time, not concentrated enough. It flows through you, but it does not flow in you."
"You don't make sense," I snapped.
She gave me a half-eyed look. "I'm here to correct that."
Correct…? I shook my head and crossed my arms more tightly. "No thank you; I'm not interested."
"Child, that's what I've been doing the entire two weeks you've been in my domain."
"Yeah, well, I don't—"
There was an almost embarrassingly long pause.
"Two weeks?!" I cried out. "That can't be-! You're lying!"
Materna rolled her eyes. "Think what you will; it will not change the facts."
She has to be lying, I thought. How could I disappear for two whole weeks?! Someone should have noticed; someone should have come searching for me!
Is anyone looking for me?
Does anyone know?
…Was I left to fend for myself?
"I've never done this while you were awake," Materna continued, not caring about my crisis. "A part of me is curious as to how you'll react."
I looked around the room. There was still only the one exit; the door behind Materna. Maybe I could brute force my way out?
Materna pulled her hands out from behind her back. "Now, this is a—"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO-"
Materna blinked and looked between me and the syringe. "So that's all it takes," she muttered.
In the split second I had looked, I saw that she was holding a syringe, like one you'd get at the doctors, except this one was the physical manifestation of what made people so afraid of needles. The needle was thick; a least a centimeter in diameter, and filed to a point that would make arrow heads cower in fear. The part containing the "vaccine" looked like it was two inches in diameter and maybe five inches long, filled with a viscous yet translucent and silvery liquid.
All I knew was that drugs are bad, especially if a bad guy makes you take them.
Materna took a step towards me. "Listen carefu—"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! DRUGS ARE BAD AND I DON'T WANT STI'S OR STD'S OR ANYTHING! NOOOOOOOOO!"
"I—Author, the needle is clean; that's the least of your concerns—"
"NO! NO! NO!"
"You are acting like a child—"
"I HAVE NO DIGNITY!"
"Would you just—!"
"NO!"
Materna growled and shoved me against the wall. She must have used magic as she went, because my arms flew to my sides, unmoving, and my feet were firmly rooted on the floor no matter how much I struggled.
She moved slowly, taking in my panic the way one would take in an interesting fact about graphite. "I much preferred you when you weren't so fussy," she commented.
She took my chin in her free and forced me to look at her. I noticed that she smelled ashy, like incense, but more ancient. "Now—"
She stopped, and turned her head just a touch to the side. I couldn't hear a thing over the sound of blood rushing in my ears, but apparently, she did. She dropped the syringe.
I felt the invisible restraints fall away and instinctively reached to protect my neck, but her arms wrapped tightly around me, one against my back and one against the back of my head, forcing my face into the bare skin of her chest.
"?!" I protested.
"If you make your presence known I will force you to kill all those you love," she hissed in my ear.
I didn't have a chance to do anything, because the door to the cell opened and a voice said, "What are you doing?"
A man's voice? A woman's voice? It would have been difficult to tell even if I weren't silently flustered. Materna kept me restrained, not looking at me or the new voice. "Normally, it's considered polite to knock before entering," she said.
"And what would you know of such 'manners'?" The voice asked. "It is not one of your own customs to do so. Why should I?"
"I've been interacting with the people of other dimensions. I find it easier to work with them if I keep their social niceties in mind."
"So I have noticed…" There was another pause. "Why are you in this room?"
"A fresh perspective. I thought I'd see what my soon-to-be-prisoners will see… if they survive."
Materna turned her head to look over her shoulder. Some of her long hair slid from her neck and caressed my forehead. Her heart was cold, so cold, but her chest was so soft…
"As if THAT were a possibility," the voice barked a laugh. "Do you truly expect me to believe you would not let your children devour every single human that is marching on your citadel?"
"So you do know what I'm up against."
"I would think it more surprising if I did NOT know what you were up against." Materna hummed in acknowledgement and turned to look back out the window. "…I know we are both aware that they are at a severe disadvantage because THE GIRL is missing."
Materna tightened her grip on me, pressing me deeper into the plushness of her chest. DON'TTHINKDON'TTHINKDON'TTHINK—
"And you suspect me of knowing her whereabouts. Or, excuse me, you know I know where she is because of your omniscience, correct?"
"NEAR omniscience," the voice bristled. "I do not make my weaknesses unknown. I have leads suggesting she is somewhere in your dimension, but she eludes me, that little—person." They huffed shortly before continuing. "I know that you know of her power; hence my suspicions about your role in her disappearance. The other members of her cult will not cease irritating me for information."
"I do admire human stubbornness… to an extent," Materna mused.
"I do not. It is… a nuisance."
"And yet you've found it in yourself to help them defeat my son." Materna's voice grew darker. "I know you were the one to give them the opportunity to do so. Don't deny it!"
"I have not," the voice replied coolly, "but all I have done is given them the opportunity. Their powers and abilities were already shaped at their birth. The opportunity was all that was needed."
"And why did you give them that opportunity? I was under the impression you left the multiverse to the whims and choices of those who were able to act on them." It was silent for a moment. "…Nothing to say?"
"Listen carefully, MATERNA," the voice snarled. "You are planning something. I KNOW you are. I will continue my investigations, and if I find a SINGLE hint of something that bodes ill, you will suffer the consequences."
"My children are about to be killed and maimed. Must I suffer more?"
"I will not pity you. Goodbye, Materna." The door closed.
A few seconds of silence passed slowly…
Materna heaved forward, pressing me against her so tightly I couldn't breathe even though I wanted to. "That was too close," she groaned.
"!" I tried to say, but she didn't let go. I put my hands against her and pushed my head out of her embrace with a loud gasp and an audible, anime-esque *pop*. After a second of catching my breath, I narrowed my eyes at her and set my jaw. "Don't-ever-do-that-again!" I wheezed. It was quiet for a moment. I realized where my hands still were and let go. "S-sorry—"
Materna's face creased with fury and she shoved me back against the windowed wall. I cried out as my back scraped against the stone.
I would have fallen to the floor, but the invisible restraints were back, my legs and right arm perfectly perpendicular to the ground. My left arm, though, was parallel; sticking out to the side, palm forward. I remembered the bandages around my left elbow just as she was taking them off. "W-wait!" I cried desperately. "Don't-!?"
She pulled off the last strands to reveal what was hidden underneath: puncture marks, ranging in size and location, but all generally located around the vein and artery in my elbow crease. They were all leaking what appeared to be watermelon juice. "W-what is THAT?" I yelled in terror.
The syringe reappeared in Materna's free hand. She silently put the point to an unpunctured spot and jabbed down, pushing the plunger down
PAIN
PAIN
P
A
I
N
PAIN.
Pain.
pain…
In the end, not too much was different, but I'm satisfied with how it turned out. I'm sure you all can guess who that mysterious third party is, but how do they know the Author? More importantly, does the Author know them...?
Why is Materna so insistent that Naoki doesn't exist? As Naoki said, being a mother is practically Materna's whole personality, so I imagine one of two things: she either legitimately doesn't believe Naoki is her son, or she denies the connection so she doesn't come to the realization that she killed her own son. I'm leaning toward the former, since her children die so often that I figure she's used to it at this point, which in turn questions her definition of motherhood.
One time my cousin had blood iron so low that her blood looked like watermelon juice, according to the doctor, so that's where I got that comparison from. Makes you wonder how the Author's been functioning as well as she has this whole time... Or has she?
Anyway, I'm going to leave this here. I've got a Vague Plot Chart for the remaining chapters, so once I finish doing a final edit/revision of The Author, The Rogues, and The Oni, I'll start working on finally getting this series under my belt. It's been long enough. I'll see you all next Monday. Until then!
