Author's Notes: *Huge, huge grin* thank you thank you, thank you! Oh, did I forget to say 'thank you'? hehe. Anyways, you know the drill. The more personal 'thankies' are at the bottom. I'm also very, very sorry at the same time for not posting this earlier… there was a huge storm that hit our country this week and all lines were down… :(
My gawd! I just enrolled this morning and my schedule is definitely the worst since ever! Oh, well… I guess we each have a burden to carry, right? Plus I have all you guys to tell it to, so… catharsis much? Hmm.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to 'The Lost World' except the characters of Jerome Duncan, Evelyn Krux and Liezl Challenger. No infringement is intended, no profits are made.
Behold the Façade
Chapter Twelve
Lord John Roxton blinked his eyes, his consciousness very slowly returning to him. The obscurity that once surrounded him gradually gave way to the blinding brightness of the morning, and with the coming of his awareness came the memories that it brought forth with it. As he unsteadily rose to his unsteady feet, these memories of what happened earlier came back to him, haunting and terrifying and terribly confusing.
He remembered staring at Marguerite, at her very still, very silent form, his thoughts echoing the questions that came from the mouths of the guests. Muted questions of 'What's wrong?' and 'What is she doing?' and 'Why did she stop?' seemed to fly and surround his ears, questions that seemed would never be answered as the bride, the only one capable of answering them, remained unmoving, still, silent.
Then came the uproar that seemed to engulf the chapel in a matter of moments as the questions weren't only whispered but loudly voiced.
He remembered darting a glance at the groom, only to find his brother's face already reflecting the confusion and alarm he knew was also on his. William stepped towards his bride-to-be, his clear intention to go to her blocked only when Jerome placed a hard, restraining hand on his arm.
"Marguerite, dear, what's wrong?" came the voice of his mother, her voice thick with uncertainty. She rose to her feet, along with dozens of the guests that couldn't seem to contain themselves any longer.
He remembered looking at Marguerite again, and now he found her face contorted with mixed feelings, melded emotions he cannot decipher. Only when tears began to run on her cheeks did he begin to rise on his feet.
"Marguerite?" John's voice was soft and lost amidst the tumult that was slowly intensifying to a burning echo.
And then the burning echo actually happened.
At first it was a soft wheezing sound that came from the very middle of the chapel, very close to where Marguerite, Jerome and William were. And, as though showing its displeasure at having been ignored so easily, the wheezing sound slowly swelled until it was soft no more. It became a deafening crescendo of screaming and roaring, and soon these sounds were accompanied with sights. For what seemed like a moment trapped in eternity, the whole interior of the chapel disappeared, only to be replaced by a blinding and shimmering white light. Then it wasn't merely a combination of sounds and sights. With the screaming and shimmering came the scorching hot of the fire as it licked and embraced everyone on its path, the flames eager to show the passion of its warmth and the intensity of its heat.
For one moment, John was stuck at the middle of it all, his eyes widening at the sight, sound and feel of the beginnings of the fire. Then at the next moment he was flying through the air, flying, floating, until his back collided with the hard cement and his head cushioned on the concrete floor.
Lord John Roxton wasn't quite sure how much time has lapsed, how much time has passed from the moment he lost his consciousness to the moment he regained it.
But now, that knowledge wasn't what was important, for the things that nagged him now, the thoughts that he deemed most important of all were the thoughts that urged his unsteady feet to take unsteady steps towards the chapel. Either this act was done foolishly or heroically he didn't know, for he didn't bother to even weigh his actions. He just moved and soon he stepped inside the church.
Mother! William!
Marguerite!
Surprisingly, astoundingly, the church wasn't burning now. Just bits and pieces of flames and flares, just soot and ash and dying embers that colored the white paint and tapestries black.
Just the sight of burning wood, just the smell of burning flesh.
He covered his mouth and nose with his arm, for the stench was sickeningly overpowering and continuously invading his senses. John almost gagged, but amazingly he kept himself from doing it.
His eyes watered instantly, not only from the amount of smoke but also from the sight that assaulted his eyes.
A dozen or so bodies littered the floor of the church, their haphazard positions never indicating whether they died instantly or with prolonged agony. John couldn't see their faces, couldn't identify their bodies, for their faces were horribly burnt beyond recognition, for their clothes were delicately infused with their blackened flesh.
He was praying now, fervently praying that his mother, his brother and his Marguerite were not among these unfortunate ones, that they have not met the fate that these ones had.
Sounds began to call to him, moans and sighs and whispers of help waiting to be received. Be it through his own intercession or the answer to his prayers he didn't know, but soon help did come, for the warning horns and sounds of ambulances began to hum at the distance and soon these hands was very near where he was. Soon his hands weren't the only ones searching beneath all the rubble and fallen wood for the surviving, and soon the surviving weren't the only ones rummaged for beneath all the dirt.
"Mother! William! Where—" John took a shaking, shuddering breath, "—where are you? Marguerite!" His voice echoed dramatically in the eerie silence
"John!"
He straightened immediately, forgetting his bruised back, as he heard and recognized the masculine voice. He turned around, and to his disappointment he saw Jerome rushing towards him. "Jerome," he said in a raspy voice, "Where's Mother? William? Marguerite?"
Jerome regarded him with sorrowful eyes. "Lady Roxton and Marguerite are being rushed to the hospital as we speak. But John—" he paused.
The older Lord prodded him on.
"We haven't seen William yet," the younger one finished, his voice bordering on tears and near panic.
John took a step back. "Then we have to find him," he stated easily.
Then he turned around to start what he had said.
*
Time lapsed again. John was tired and hurt, but still he and some other ones continued their search. He had declined offers of treatment on his wounds, claiming that he was alright or simply ignoring those who asked, until he was asked no longer.
His face was contorted into a sad stillness that was almost alarming in its intensity. He began to walk towards the altar, the last place where he was to look at, when he heard it. A voice so soft and lost it was almost unheard, yet the sound did not escape his sharp hunter's hearing and soon John was rushing towards the source, hope filling him so completely it almost broke his heart.
And then, behind the altar of broken relics, there lay his brother in an entanglement of limbs and blood.
But he was still alive. That was all that mattered.
"William," John whispered in a broken voice.
"J-John?"
"William," John said again as he stepped closer to his brother. William had several cuts and bruises, but there was also a terrifying amount of red, blistered skin covering his hands and face. The sight of him, so vulnerable, so weakened, terrified John more than anything else in his life. "Somebody help us!" he screamed to the others.
Footsteps echoed behind him and when he turned he saw Jerome standing there, looking at William with wide, agonized eyes. Then there were other people who rushed in and then his brother was so softly and gently lifted off his bed of charcoal and into a stretcher.
"William," the older Roxton muttered as he walked beside the carried stretcher, "you're going to be fine." He said.
"John," His brother said, so softly that others will have surely missed it, "where's Marguerite?"
"She's fine." John answered immediately, conviction filling his tone. "We all are going to be alright." He then watched as the stretcher was loaded into the back of the ambulance. The doors were closed, and soon the ambulance was on its way to the hospital as well.
With his duty done and the people important to him found and alive, John allowed the nagging obscurity to swallow him again as he collapsed in an ungraceful heap.
To be continued…
To those who reviewed Chapter 11:
KatAnn – You're reading this! *does her infamous happy dance* Yay, yay, yay! Anyways, I know you don't want me to answer your question but I will, anyway ;) YES, I do enjoy tormenting you. I'm the TORMENTINATOR!!! *coughs* oh-kay, I so cannot believe I just wrote that… *clears throat* Ahem. I'm really pleased you haven't forgotten COTB… let's see. After I finish this one, I'll work through the issues on that story and I'll see what I can do. But KatAnn… I'm really, really sorry, but I'm not guaranteeing anything as of the moment. Please forgive me *insert sad puppy eyes here* However, do you want to receive my spoilers for that story? I wrote the main points for each chapter, but because of the three main plot leaks I discovered, I got discouraged… *crosses fingers* maybe you can help me smoothen those out? Pretty please?
A. Windsor – Haven't I told you yet? I'm one sick little girl with a demented mind and a heart of pure evil. The aura of evilness is radiating off me in waves… ahem. You've caught me in my weirdest moment… heehee :) So glad you're enjoying this! You have no idea how much I appreciate your review, so thanks!
LadySammyMRoxton – You reviewed! You reviewed! *does another of her happy dances* Anyways, thank you very much for the lovely comment. I really, really appreciate this… I hope you'll stick around for more! :)
Wishes – Oh, you scared me! Thank God you're okay now! Anyways, thanks for the encouraging words… there's nothing better than a reader having difficulty in their breathing to tell the writer that she's doing a bang up job. Wasn't that a mouthful? Hehe, anyways, thank you again!
Ariadne – You have no idea how happy I am that you are reading this story of mine… thanks! And, yes, to answer your (semi) question… Challenger is the bad guy in this because his daughter, Liezl, was killed by John. Now to get his revenge, he and Jerome (Liezl's betrothed) hired Marguerite to kill William on their wedding day. That's basically the 'it' in this story, though there'll be a lot of other twists to it :) Hope this helps! And hope to read more of you in the future!
Fab - *squeals* Fab! You're back! Yay! I've missed you, buddy! Anyways, thank you for the review :)
Cara – Ohhh!!! Me, wicked? Hmm… I like that term… Zarah the wicked one…heehee! Yes, I know this is pure torture. What can I say? I like torturing other people… it's what I do best… LOL! Anyways, thanks for the reviews, I really appreciate them! ;)
Michi – Thanks for the review! Glad to know you like it and that you think I am mean. I'm flattered… ;) Just curious, have you chosen your school yet? What's your course? Oh, I'm really hoping you'd have the best of luck, Michi ;) I'm now on my last year in college (Yes, I'm graduating this '04 summer) and I can say that college was THE best time of my life (not and never high school!!!). Please know that I am crossing my fingers for you :)
Gilly – Thanks for the review! I really, really appreciate it :) You know I love it when you drop by, so don't be a stranger again, okay? ;)
Smiley - *stomps feet* Oh, but SMILEY!!! *whines* that's the request I really, really want to have… but… oh, fine. Let's see. I could use another laptop… ;) Okay, too expensive. Same goes for the beach house I want in Malibu. Hmmm…. how about… *thinks* I know! I want a review from you on this! Pretty, pretty please? With Roxton on top? And yay for the extra poke… I needed that! ;)
Maloal – Me, very bad. But me, very like your review! So thanks a lot! ;)
Mags 968 - *blushes* thank you very much for the praises, hon! It means so much to me that you think this story is great ;) Anyways, you ask who Jerome is? Well, in a nutshell, Jerome Duncan is the best friend of William (and his best man), but for the sake of his revenge (because of Liezl's, his betrothed's, death in the hands of John Roxton), Jerome is willing to let William die as he schemed with Challenger. In his words, 'a life for a life', so William for Liezl. Twisted man, isn't he? Well, we can't blame him, but we can very well blame the one who made him. Eep, that's me! Anyways, thank you again!
Sash – Hey! Welcome to my delusional world. I haven't seen you around before but I welcome you with open arms and a hearty 'thank you!' for leaving me with your review. So thanks! Again! ;)
Veggie5 - *sighs unhappily* that's me, girl-without-pay. It is quite shocking, isn't it? Anyways, this is quite normal for me because the 'work' experience is part of our academic school year – OJT or on-the-job training or the more frequent 'internship'. Most third year college people like me have to dedicate 200 hours of their summer vacation *whimper* to work for a company of their choice. The money side of this is quite, you know, absent, because it's like we give them our time in return for their agreeing to let us work for them. Kinda twisted, huh? But hey, whoever said that they got the better deal, anyways? I spent most of that 200 hours checking out ff.net and other net thingies that I usually have no other time for other things, should I mention that I had no time to do what they want me to do? Mwahahaha. But, HEY!!! What is this doubt I read from ya'? Girl, you better NOT doubt your own ability to write. Just check out the humongous response to your 'Mismatch'. I'm telling you, your next one will surely get the same number of response (if not bigger!) So write, write, write! And I pray that your professors, those sad little things, will let my favorite veggie in the world to take it easy so she could write her next fic. *starts chanting*
Chinadoll – Well thank you very much for telling me that you're hooked! It means a lot to me. Do drop by again, okay? I definitely appreciate your presence… I hope I see your review again, and soon! :)