Chapter 10 - You make me sick because I adore you so
Chapter title comes from Space dementia by Muse. I like it for no good reason.
This decidedly odd chapter was finished at one AM, so that probably is the reason why the end looks like a dog wrote it. For the life of me I can't understand why my mind thinks that it was predictable all along. Maybe it was, but I definitely didn't see it coming.
Warning - There is much swearing later in the chapter that could upset those of a delicate or Christian nature. Just warning you now.
*********
It was as Mr Dyson cried; Ysabelle and Homer were at Heathrow airport, looking around one of the generic music shops. This was under Ysabelle's instance and Homer, seeing that as they had a good hour to kill, had allowed himself to be traipsed around several record stores for a particular CD.
Ysabelle was flicking through rows and rows of CD's as she muttered under her breath, "cast of thousands, cast of thousands, cast of thousands......why does no one sell good music?"
"Ys, I think that after this, we are going to sit down, and give up this wild goose chase. You are not going to find that CD here! I love elbow as much as you do, but I just don't think that you're....."
"Ah ha!" she said triumphantly, picking up a CD wrapped in cellophane, "They have it! " She held her hands up, either side of her head with her index finger held up, and her voice bursting with sarcastic pride she said, "Worship me now, unbelievers, for I am the God of Musical....."
"....Bull." finished Homer, "Now, just pay for the goddamn CD, and I'll go over what we're here for. "
"Aw, Homer, you don't need to look so pained." Ysabelle smiled, "You go to one of the café's upstairs, and I'll be their in a minute. "
Homer rolled his eyes, and allowed Ysabelle to pay for her CD as he went up the escalator to one of the many coffee shops. He ordered a glass of water and a glass of orange juice, and too his order to the one sofa in the shop. He picked up the glass of water, and took as sip as Ysabelle, beaming, came up the escalator.
"Have you seen the cover design?" she demanded, slumping next to him, "Have you seen it? It's exquisite! It looks really white art house, but then when you look closer it has something like paganism about it...."
"Ys, first of all, shut up, then" he put his hand into his bag and took out a packet of pills, "I think you should take one of these iron pills. The Doctor said that you'd better...."
"Homer, I'm over that now, and I'm not going to start again, so thanks but no thanks." She said taking a sip of her drink. "Anyway, you said you wouldn't bring that up again."
"I didn't. You're the one over reacting. " Replied Homer, "It was just a though."
"No, you don't get it, I don't do it any more, even if you want to think I do, so, yeah, it's a waste to give them to me." She spat, rubbing her bandaged arms.
Homer looked rather grim as he said, "Ys, you know I worry about you. You better not be lying."
"I'm not, " she said, looking out at the café, "I swear, I'm not."
It was as she looked out Homer sneaked a pill into her glass. He was so quick that a millisecond later he had gone back to watching the café with her. She picked up her glass, and finished it as a whole. "It's warm today." She said casually, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah, anyway, I was saying, Jes says that our contact, Dyson..."
"I don't like Dyson. " Said Ysabelle darkly, "He looks like some of my old teachers, and everyone knows what he does in his spare time."
"It doesn't matter if you like him or not, all that matters is that he does as he's told." Snapped Homer, "and he's been told to disable the robot, just for a while, and pay whoever knows about him to keep quiet."
"That's doesn't sound right." Said Ysabelle softly, "It sounds....Horrible. Like the people before."
Homer put his arm around her, and she put her head on his chest, a position she often took up when she was frightened or upset. A few people gave them an odd look, others whispered things, but none of it bothered Homer in the slightest. He played with a tightly braided pigtail, and sighed. "I know, but it's the way things sometimes work. Sometimes we have to change things a lot to stop a lot of things changing. I don't like it either, but I have a feeling that things won't work out. "
"Why?" moaned Ysabelle, closing her eyes.
"Because it seems too simple. Things are never that simple."
"That's nice, it looks like we'll be thinking on our feet. " Replied Ysabelle sleepily, "Feets don't fail me now."
*********
Jane got up at Five A.M so she would be in time to get Edward to School on time, and then get him back, just so Mr Dyson could inspect him. He had phoned her parents the night before, telling them to tell her to meet him on the school grounds at seven in the morning, and it would take a while to get Edward down to town unnoticed, and then back later.
In fact, this was not to happen. The streets were eerily empty at six in the morning as she marched past all the houses with Edward, often stopping and staring at seemingly odd things. Sometimes he'd just be staring at something like a silver car or a birdbath, things that were so boring and normal that if Edward hadn't have pointed them out, she wouldn't have noticed them as they walked by. Luckily for her, no one wanted to wake up before seven in the morning. It seemed almost as if this had all been staged for her benefit. She knew, for instance, that a boy in her class was delivering papers at this time in the morning, and should have passed her by now, but it was if he had been delayed just long enough for her to get Edward there.
After a short walk that had felt as dangerous as walking across a field in Mozambique and as nerve-wracking as most exams, they reached the school. The main gate was locked, but Jane, having spent too much time in school before hours, knew that there was a gate that wasn't locked at any time that anyone could open. She led Edward to the gate, and let him through before making their way to the back entrance. Jane half-expected the door to the school to be locked, but it swung open.
Leading Edward in she noticed the school had an odd, dead feeling about it. As it lay empty, it felt like something was missing, the buzzing energy that usually hung about the place. Edward seemed a little nervous of the place. Even he could feel that something wasn't right. Edward remembered when he had last been down here. In the town. It only felt as cold and lifeless at night. He didn't really know where he was going, but he noticed that Jane tried a few of the other doors, and couldn't get them open. Edward stopped to stare at one of the doorknobs. He held up one of his blades and poked at it. Jane grabbed his arm and hissed, "C'mon Edward!"
Edward, now admonished, let her lead him, almost dragging him, and he wasn't sure why. He suddenly felt something inside him go wrong. He didn't like it here, he wanted to leave. He wanted to go right now. It felt bad. It felt like the salon here. He heard a buzzing from the ceiling, and looked up into the neon lights. He strained against Jane's grip.
"Edward, please, it'll only take a minute. We can go soon, but please, please come with me!" Edward said nothing, but his eyes filled with fear. Jane finally reached the door to the art room. She turned the doorknob, and before Edward could protest she pushed him into the room.
It was not a room she recognised.
The room, usually kept meticulously tidy, was now a mess of paper, paint and ashes of magazines that she'd rather not know about. There was a lot of green ink all over the floor and half-dried pieces of paper. He stepped around them while Edward was paralysed with fear.
"Mr Dyson!?" she called out, "Mr Dyson? "
There was an insidious silence. Jane stepped forward, the sound of paper and burnt Ash crunching under foot was heard. "Mr Dyson?"
It was then, and only then that she heard a low, unhappy laugh. The laugh, it sounded partly mad, partly extremely sane, like all the absurdities of life had been striped away and he had seen the world for what it truly was, just for a second before it ended. He stepped out of the shadows.
To Jane he wasn't the man she knew. Mr Dyson was always impeccably dressed and poker faced, but the man in front of her looked primeval in his dirty, creased clothes. He less wore then than they hung off him, as if he were a waxwork dummy of the man he had once been. His unshaven face spilt into a nasty grin and he hissed, "Ah, you're here, and you brought the freak."
"Err, Mr Dyson?" laughed Jane nervously, "What do you mean?"
"My pretty, " he hissed in a low, obtuse tone, "My pretty, he's here. That means that I don't need them any more, that means my work is done. That means I can do anything I want!" he rasped madly at her.
"Mr Dyson, what to do want? You've seen him!"
"Yes, " he said, as if just realising something. He walked over to Edward, and lifted up his scissor hands, "Yes, he's just like you painted him. My, my, I though I'd seen a lot of deformity in my life, but at no time have I met with such a perverted or degraded version of a human being as this man."
Edward gave him an odd, sideways looks. Then, quickly he brought out his wallet. "How much do you want for him?" he asked, "How much? Two, three, four thousand? Name your price!"
"Mr Dyson, he's not mine to sell!" exclaimed Jane, "I though you just wanted to see him."
"Miss Parson's, I should make you aware that I am your elder...."
"Please, Mr Dyson, we'll be leaving now...."
Jane walked towards the door, but Mr Dyson dropped his wallet, ink-stained notes falling to the floor, and ran to the door, locking it. "You're not going anywhere." He grabbed a chair, and pushing Jane to the floor threw it over Edwards's head. There was a loud clang as a metal chair leg hit his metal head, but he fell. Mr Dyson, as if suddenly gripped by bloodlust dropped the chair, the twisted plastic and metal looking like a modern sculpture.
Then he strode towards Jane and grabbed her wrist. Jane let out a whimper, but Mr Dyson kicked her hard and sat down next to her, his fingernails digging into her wrist. "You're not leaving here my pretty. I've done what they want me to do, and they don't give a fuck what happens to you. No one knows about this *thing*" he said, motioning his head toward the unconscious Edward, "and no one would ever believe you about it. " he grabbed her other wrist, and squeezed, holding her hands together, "and no one would ever believe you if...."
There was a flash of scissors and the sound of metal cutting flesh. Jane let out another shriek as she looked into Mr Dyson's face. The madness was lost in his eyes, but it was replaced with pain, pure pain. The few seconds seemed to last a lifetime. She saw the pain, the panic, she heard the one last breath, she watched as blood trickled down from the black of his neck, down his shirt, staining it.
Jane screamed hysterically. She watched his stump down back to the floor, she saw his dead face, and then, as she looked up she saw a woman. A woman with dark blue hair and chains all over her tartan and leather clothing. It was only then that she saw the finger guards she wore with knife-like attachments on them.
"Sweet mother of God, thank God I'm here." The woman gasped, "What the hell was he doing?"
Jane looked up into her blue eyes and whimpered again, kicking her way back to the wall, her clothes stained with pain. The woman stared down at her hands, covered in blood and winced. "I really didn't want to have to do that, but he'll be okay if some paramedic's get here soon, I didn't cut deep, just enough to shock him. He'll be awake in a minute...."
Jane, thinking that this woman was going to kill her gasped, "Who are you?"
"I don't really have a name, but people call me Jes." The woman said with a faint, sad smile, taking off her finger guards and putting then in her many pockets. She held out her hand, "I've been sent to help you. Look, I was sent as back up, but you've got two people how're out looking for you two. Their names are Homer and Ysabelle, and they're going to help both of you. I'm not sure how you got into this mess, but they're going to help you out as much as they can. Now, all you've got to do is get back to the house and wait. They'll come after you and get you out of here, but until then you've got to lay low. "
Jes helped Jane up, and then, leaving her to figure out what was going on lifted Edward up. "For a hunk of metal you're pretty light, " remarked Jes, "now do you understand what I said?" Edward, trying to unscramble his brain, didn't quiet understand what had been said.
"I'll look after him." Said Jane.
"Thanks. Now just leave, if anyone asks, you were here to drop off a science project. " Said Jes. Then she threw a black trench coat at Edward. He caught it, just. "Edward, wear that. Keep your hands in the pockets at all times. That way no one will see your hands."
Edward looked at her and said, "why?"
"Because this wound looks like someone with hands like yours dragged them across his neck. " Jane took the coat from him, and said to Jes, "But how can he fit his hands into the pocke....."
Jes sighed and said, "I did think of that. There're no pockets, just holes to hide them in."
Edward held out one bladed hand while Jane slid the coat over it. How she managed to get it on without ruining it was beyond anyone's guessing, but she did, and Edward slowly slid his hands into his pockets. It worked. He smiled.
"I've got a bit of cash on me, if all else fails, " said Jes, giving them an envelope, "and in there are some notes about your contacts, Homer and Ysabelle. Remember those names, okay? Homer and Ysabelle. "
"Homer and Ysabelle, " repeated Jane, "Homer and Ysabelle, got it."
"Okay, you should leave as fast as possible." Replied Jes with an unamused grin, "I'll try to sort this out as best as I can. " Jes kicked the lock off the door and Jane and Edward ran out unquestioning.
As Jes watched them leave she a groan from the floor. Jes kicked Mr Dyson and hissed to herself, "Well, he's messed everything up now, haven't you?"
**********
As Jane and Edward walked out from the art room a cleaner walked past them. "Good morning Jane" she said in a heavy Mexican accent.
"Good morning Ruth, " Jane answered, stopping.
"What're you doin' here?" she asked, "And your Hansom man friend?"
"He's a friend from outer state." Answered Jane quickly, "we were just bringing in a science project."
Ruth looked down at Edward. The coat had parted a little, and she swore she saw metal blades locked together. Then she looked at his face, a pail patchwork of scars. She looked down again. They *were* blades, under the coat. Jane, smiling sweetly quickly covered them up and walked off.
Ruth felt rather unsettled by the stranger, but Jane? With a stranger? It just wasn't like the girl. Ruth looked at the floor. Someone had left a mess. Paint had been trod down the corridor. She looked back at saw the trail grew stronger as it got closer to the art room. She also saw the trail came from Jane's shoes. Ruth left her mop behind and opened the art room door. What Ruth saw caused her to gasp hysterically and then ran down the corridor shouting, "Murder! Murder!"
*********
Notes - lots and lots and lots of them!
1/Ysabelle's search for cast of thousands is representative of my own while looking for this chapter. It's an absolutely beautiful album, especially two songs, "ribcage" and "Grace under pressure". My brother who hates their music actually like their album, enough to give it to a friend and lose it (grr.....). But I'm off the point. Ysabelle seems the type to like it.
2/This is vaguely based on Heathrow airport, which I visited a bit back when I went on holiday (probably more on that later), but it isn't be beyond the realm of possibility that it is in fact Gatwick and I didn't notice. Also I might have messed up the plan.
3/' "That's doesn't sound right." Said Ysabelle softly, "It sounds....Horrible. Like the people before."' Ysabelle is refereeing to the people she and Homer used to live amongst i.e. general society. The secret behind this will be revealed some time in the future. The same goes for her comment about teachers.
4/ I referenced Edward Sporkfingers! I referenced Edward Sporkhands! How sad am I? (Great story by the way, that's why I referenced it.)
5/ "a short walk that had felt as dangerous as walking across a field in Mozambique" was my attempt at a political joke. Basically it's one of the many countries where there have been wars and people have planted a lot of minefields everywhere, making walking across fields extremely difficult and dangerous, as well as unfarmable. I could have used a better simile on second thoughts, but if I can't make bigoted political statements, what can I do? (get one with writing this story, y'know Xandra.)
6/ Jane is so stupid. She'll ignore her own discomfort and Edwards discomfort just so she doesn't get into trouble with her teacher. At least she ain't perfect.
7/Okay, not only has Mr Dyson well departed from the version in 'Never trust a rabbit' (my claim to fame!) he quotes from 'The Elephant man', one of the many reasons why I haven't updated for ages. I've been too busy watching John Hurt shouting how he isn't an Elephant! But the pay off is some golden material reference and a goddarn brilliant movie.
8/ Jes gets to rescue someone! W00t! She's happy with that, but I don't know if finger guards are called finger guards. Some kid in our class brought in these things that you wear over your fingers and have a pointed tip, so if you get into a fight you can use them as a knife. I don't know how practical that actually is in a fight, but it was better than my original ideas. Again, like in the Elephant man, she wasn't seen until now, and I doubt you'll see her again.
9/ Ick. The end sounds like an Agatha Christie novel. I blame my radio 4 upbringing. I'm so ticked off about that.
Okay, I could go on forever about this chapter, but I think that would take a spare week. I'll stop here and thank you for reading this chapter, and hope that you enjoyed it to some extent.
Thank you for reading, please review if there are any questions left in your mind or if you wish to be nice to me (a rare occurrence in my present climate) or if you wish to point out how dreadfully wrong I am.
Yours Faithfully scribbling,
GloomRaven - Xandra the Blue.
Chapter title comes from Space dementia by Muse. I like it for no good reason.
This decidedly odd chapter was finished at one AM, so that probably is the reason why the end looks like a dog wrote it. For the life of me I can't understand why my mind thinks that it was predictable all along. Maybe it was, but I definitely didn't see it coming.
Warning - There is much swearing later in the chapter that could upset those of a delicate or Christian nature. Just warning you now.
*********
It was as Mr Dyson cried; Ysabelle and Homer were at Heathrow airport, looking around one of the generic music shops. This was under Ysabelle's instance and Homer, seeing that as they had a good hour to kill, had allowed himself to be traipsed around several record stores for a particular CD.
Ysabelle was flicking through rows and rows of CD's as she muttered under her breath, "cast of thousands, cast of thousands, cast of thousands......why does no one sell good music?"
"Ys, I think that after this, we are going to sit down, and give up this wild goose chase. You are not going to find that CD here! I love elbow as much as you do, but I just don't think that you're....."
"Ah ha!" she said triumphantly, picking up a CD wrapped in cellophane, "They have it! " She held her hands up, either side of her head with her index finger held up, and her voice bursting with sarcastic pride she said, "Worship me now, unbelievers, for I am the God of Musical....."
"....Bull." finished Homer, "Now, just pay for the goddamn CD, and I'll go over what we're here for. "
"Aw, Homer, you don't need to look so pained." Ysabelle smiled, "You go to one of the café's upstairs, and I'll be their in a minute. "
Homer rolled his eyes, and allowed Ysabelle to pay for her CD as he went up the escalator to one of the many coffee shops. He ordered a glass of water and a glass of orange juice, and too his order to the one sofa in the shop. He picked up the glass of water, and took as sip as Ysabelle, beaming, came up the escalator.
"Have you seen the cover design?" she demanded, slumping next to him, "Have you seen it? It's exquisite! It looks really white art house, but then when you look closer it has something like paganism about it...."
"Ys, first of all, shut up, then" he put his hand into his bag and took out a packet of pills, "I think you should take one of these iron pills. The Doctor said that you'd better...."
"Homer, I'm over that now, and I'm not going to start again, so thanks but no thanks." She said taking a sip of her drink. "Anyway, you said you wouldn't bring that up again."
"I didn't. You're the one over reacting. " Replied Homer, "It was just a though."
"No, you don't get it, I don't do it any more, even if you want to think I do, so, yeah, it's a waste to give them to me." She spat, rubbing her bandaged arms.
Homer looked rather grim as he said, "Ys, you know I worry about you. You better not be lying."
"I'm not, " she said, looking out at the café, "I swear, I'm not."
It was as she looked out Homer sneaked a pill into her glass. He was so quick that a millisecond later he had gone back to watching the café with her. She picked up her glass, and finished it as a whole. "It's warm today." She said casually, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah, anyway, I was saying, Jes says that our contact, Dyson..."
"I don't like Dyson. " Said Ysabelle darkly, "He looks like some of my old teachers, and everyone knows what he does in his spare time."
"It doesn't matter if you like him or not, all that matters is that he does as he's told." Snapped Homer, "and he's been told to disable the robot, just for a while, and pay whoever knows about him to keep quiet."
"That's doesn't sound right." Said Ysabelle softly, "It sounds....Horrible. Like the people before."
Homer put his arm around her, and she put her head on his chest, a position she often took up when she was frightened or upset. A few people gave them an odd look, others whispered things, but none of it bothered Homer in the slightest. He played with a tightly braided pigtail, and sighed. "I know, but it's the way things sometimes work. Sometimes we have to change things a lot to stop a lot of things changing. I don't like it either, but I have a feeling that things won't work out. "
"Why?" moaned Ysabelle, closing her eyes.
"Because it seems too simple. Things are never that simple."
"That's nice, it looks like we'll be thinking on our feet. " Replied Ysabelle sleepily, "Feets don't fail me now."
*********
Jane got up at Five A.M so she would be in time to get Edward to School on time, and then get him back, just so Mr Dyson could inspect him. He had phoned her parents the night before, telling them to tell her to meet him on the school grounds at seven in the morning, and it would take a while to get Edward down to town unnoticed, and then back later.
In fact, this was not to happen. The streets were eerily empty at six in the morning as she marched past all the houses with Edward, often stopping and staring at seemingly odd things. Sometimes he'd just be staring at something like a silver car or a birdbath, things that were so boring and normal that if Edward hadn't have pointed them out, she wouldn't have noticed them as they walked by. Luckily for her, no one wanted to wake up before seven in the morning. It seemed almost as if this had all been staged for her benefit. She knew, for instance, that a boy in her class was delivering papers at this time in the morning, and should have passed her by now, but it was if he had been delayed just long enough for her to get Edward there.
After a short walk that had felt as dangerous as walking across a field in Mozambique and as nerve-wracking as most exams, they reached the school. The main gate was locked, but Jane, having spent too much time in school before hours, knew that there was a gate that wasn't locked at any time that anyone could open. She led Edward to the gate, and let him through before making their way to the back entrance. Jane half-expected the door to the school to be locked, but it swung open.
Leading Edward in she noticed the school had an odd, dead feeling about it. As it lay empty, it felt like something was missing, the buzzing energy that usually hung about the place. Edward seemed a little nervous of the place. Even he could feel that something wasn't right. Edward remembered when he had last been down here. In the town. It only felt as cold and lifeless at night. He didn't really know where he was going, but he noticed that Jane tried a few of the other doors, and couldn't get them open. Edward stopped to stare at one of the doorknobs. He held up one of his blades and poked at it. Jane grabbed his arm and hissed, "C'mon Edward!"
Edward, now admonished, let her lead him, almost dragging him, and he wasn't sure why. He suddenly felt something inside him go wrong. He didn't like it here, he wanted to leave. He wanted to go right now. It felt bad. It felt like the salon here. He heard a buzzing from the ceiling, and looked up into the neon lights. He strained against Jane's grip.
"Edward, please, it'll only take a minute. We can go soon, but please, please come with me!" Edward said nothing, but his eyes filled with fear. Jane finally reached the door to the art room. She turned the doorknob, and before Edward could protest she pushed him into the room.
It was not a room she recognised.
The room, usually kept meticulously tidy, was now a mess of paper, paint and ashes of magazines that she'd rather not know about. There was a lot of green ink all over the floor and half-dried pieces of paper. He stepped around them while Edward was paralysed with fear.
"Mr Dyson!?" she called out, "Mr Dyson? "
There was an insidious silence. Jane stepped forward, the sound of paper and burnt Ash crunching under foot was heard. "Mr Dyson?"
It was then, and only then that she heard a low, unhappy laugh. The laugh, it sounded partly mad, partly extremely sane, like all the absurdities of life had been striped away and he had seen the world for what it truly was, just for a second before it ended. He stepped out of the shadows.
To Jane he wasn't the man she knew. Mr Dyson was always impeccably dressed and poker faced, but the man in front of her looked primeval in his dirty, creased clothes. He less wore then than they hung off him, as if he were a waxwork dummy of the man he had once been. His unshaven face spilt into a nasty grin and he hissed, "Ah, you're here, and you brought the freak."
"Err, Mr Dyson?" laughed Jane nervously, "What do you mean?"
"My pretty, " he hissed in a low, obtuse tone, "My pretty, he's here. That means that I don't need them any more, that means my work is done. That means I can do anything I want!" he rasped madly at her.
"Mr Dyson, what to do want? You've seen him!"
"Yes, " he said, as if just realising something. He walked over to Edward, and lifted up his scissor hands, "Yes, he's just like you painted him. My, my, I though I'd seen a lot of deformity in my life, but at no time have I met with such a perverted or degraded version of a human being as this man."
Edward gave him an odd, sideways looks. Then, quickly he brought out his wallet. "How much do you want for him?" he asked, "How much? Two, three, four thousand? Name your price!"
"Mr Dyson, he's not mine to sell!" exclaimed Jane, "I though you just wanted to see him."
"Miss Parson's, I should make you aware that I am your elder...."
"Please, Mr Dyson, we'll be leaving now...."
Jane walked towards the door, but Mr Dyson dropped his wallet, ink-stained notes falling to the floor, and ran to the door, locking it. "You're not going anywhere." He grabbed a chair, and pushing Jane to the floor threw it over Edwards's head. There was a loud clang as a metal chair leg hit his metal head, but he fell. Mr Dyson, as if suddenly gripped by bloodlust dropped the chair, the twisted plastic and metal looking like a modern sculpture.
Then he strode towards Jane and grabbed her wrist. Jane let out a whimper, but Mr Dyson kicked her hard and sat down next to her, his fingernails digging into her wrist. "You're not leaving here my pretty. I've done what they want me to do, and they don't give a fuck what happens to you. No one knows about this *thing*" he said, motioning his head toward the unconscious Edward, "and no one would ever believe you about it. " he grabbed her other wrist, and squeezed, holding her hands together, "and no one would ever believe you if...."
There was a flash of scissors and the sound of metal cutting flesh. Jane let out another shriek as she looked into Mr Dyson's face. The madness was lost in his eyes, but it was replaced with pain, pure pain. The few seconds seemed to last a lifetime. She saw the pain, the panic, she heard the one last breath, she watched as blood trickled down from the black of his neck, down his shirt, staining it.
Jane screamed hysterically. She watched his stump down back to the floor, she saw his dead face, and then, as she looked up she saw a woman. A woman with dark blue hair and chains all over her tartan and leather clothing. It was only then that she saw the finger guards she wore with knife-like attachments on them.
"Sweet mother of God, thank God I'm here." The woman gasped, "What the hell was he doing?"
Jane looked up into her blue eyes and whimpered again, kicking her way back to the wall, her clothes stained with pain. The woman stared down at her hands, covered in blood and winced. "I really didn't want to have to do that, but he'll be okay if some paramedic's get here soon, I didn't cut deep, just enough to shock him. He'll be awake in a minute...."
Jane, thinking that this woman was going to kill her gasped, "Who are you?"
"I don't really have a name, but people call me Jes." The woman said with a faint, sad smile, taking off her finger guards and putting then in her many pockets. She held out her hand, "I've been sent to help you. Look, I was sent as back up, but you've got two people how're out looking for you two. Their names are Homer and Ysabelle, and they're going to help both of you. I'm not sure how you got into this mess, but they're going to help you out as much as they can. Now, all you've got to do is get back to the house and wait. They'll come after you and get you out of here, but until then you've got to lay low. "
Jes helped Jane up, and then, leaving her to figure out what was going on lifted Edward up. "For a hunk of metal you're pretty light, " remarked Jes, "now do you understand what I said?" Edward, trying to unscramble his brain, didn't quiet understand what had been said.
"I'll look after him." Said Jane.
"Thanks. Now just leave, if anyone asks, you were here to drop off a science project. " Said Jes. Then she threw a black trench coat at Edward. He caught it, just. "Edward, wear that. Keep your hands in the pockets at all times. That way no one will see your hands."
Edward looked at her and said, "why?"
"Because this wound looks like someone with hands like yours dragged them across his neck. " Jane took the coat from him, and said to Jes, "But how can he fit his hands into the pocke....."
Jes sighed and said, "I did think of that. There're no pockets, just holes to hide them in."
Edward held out one bladed hand while Jane slid the coat over it. How she managed to get it on without ruining it was beyond anyone's guessing, but she did, and Edward slowly slid his hands into his pockets. It worked. He smiled.
"I've got a bit of cash on me, if all else fails, " said Jes, giving them an envelope, "and in there are some notes about your contacts, Homer and Ysabelle. Remember those names, okay? Homer and Ysabelle. "
"Homer and Ysabelle, " repeated Jane, "Homer and Ysabelle, got it."
"Okay, you should leave as fast as possible." Replied Jes with an unamused grin, "I'll try to sort this out as best as I can. " Jes kicked the lock off the door and Jane and Edward ran out unquestioning.
As Jes watched them leave she a groan from the floor. Jes kicked Mr Dyson and hissed to herself, "Well, he's messed everything up now, haven't you?"
**********
As Jane and Edward walked out from the art room a cleaner walked past them. "Good morning Jane" she said in a heavy Mexican accent.
"Good morning Ruth, " Jane answered, stopping.
"What're you doin' here?" she asked, "And your Hansom man friend?"
"He's a friend from outer state." Answered Jane quickly, "we were just bringing in a science project."
Ruth looked down at Edward. The coat had parted a little, and she swore she saw metal blades locked together. Then she looked at his face, a pail patchwork of scars. She looked down again. They *were* blades, under the coat. Jane, smiling sweetly quickly covered them up and walked off.
Ruth felt rather unsettled by the stranger, but Jane? With a stranger? It just wasn't like the girl. Ruth looked at the floor. Someone had left a mess. Paint had been trod down the corridor. She looked back at saw the trail grew stronger as it got closer to the art room. She also saw the trail came from Jane's shoes. Ruth left her mop behind and opened the art room door. What Ruth saw caused her to gasp hysterically and then ran down the corridor shouting, "Murder! Murder!"
*********
Notes - lots and lots and lots of them!
1/Ysabelle's search for cast of thousands is representative of my own while looking for this chapter. It's an absolutely beautiful album, especially two songs, "ribcage" and "Grace under pressure". My brother who hates their music actually like their album, enough to give it to a friend and lose it (grr.....). But I'm off the point. Ysabelle seems the type to like it.
2/This is vaguely based on Heathrow airport, which I visited a bit back when I went on holiday (probably more on that later), but it isn't be beyond the realm of possibility that it is in fact Gatwick and I didn't notice. Also I might have messed up the plan.
3/' "That's doesn't sound right." Said Ysabelle softly, "It sounds....Horrible. Like the people before."' Ysabelle is refereeing to the people she and Homer used to live amongst i.e. general society. The secret behind this will be revealed some time in the future. The same goes for her comment about teachers.
4/ I referenced Edward Sporkfingers! I referenced Edward Sporkhands! How sad am I? (Great story by the way, that's why I referenced it.)
5/ "a short walk that had felt as dangerous as walking across a field in Mozambique" was my attempt at a political joke. Basically it's one of the many countries where there have been wars and people have planted a lot of minefields everywhere, making walking across fields extremely difficult and dangerous, as well as unfarmable. I could have used a better simile on second thoughts, but if I can't make bigoted political statements, what can I do? (get one with writing this story, y'know Xandra.)
6/ Jane is so stupid. She'll ignore her own discomfort and Edwards discomfort just so she doesn't get into trouble with her teacher. At least she ain't perfect.
7/Okay, not only has Mr Dyson well departed from the version in 'Never trust a rabbit' (my claim to fame!) he quotes from 'The Elephant man', one of the many reasons why I haven't updated for ages. I've been too busy watching John Hurt shouting how he isn't an Elephant! But the pay off is some golden material reference and a goddarn brilliant movie.
8/ Jes gets to rescue someone! W00t! She's happy with that, but I don't know if finger guards are called finger guards. Some kid in our class brought in these things that you wear over your fingers and have a pointed tip, so if you get into a fight you can use them as a knife. I don't know how practical that actually is in a fight, but it was better than my original ideas. Again, like in the Elephant man, she wasn't seen until now, and I doubt you'll see her again.
9/ Ick. The end sounds like an Agatha Christie novel. I blame my radio 4 upbringing. I'm so ticked off about that.
Okay, I could go on forever about this chapter, but I think that would take a spare week. I'll stop here and thank you for reading this chapter, and hope that you enjoyed it to some extent.
Thank you for reading, please review if there are any questions left in your mind or if you wish to be nice to me (a rare occurrence in my present climate) or if you wish to point out how dreadfully wrong I am.
Yours Faithfully scribbling,
GloomRaven - Xandra the Blue.