Sherbet Mayhem: Hi and hoooowwwdyyyyy doodle! Yeah. I'm BACK – and again I can't really be bothered writing another huge disclaimer *readers wipe brows in relief* erm . . . . you know what I own. Add a script of any Shakespearean play of your choice and there you go! But I don't own Beyblade. Oh no.
Thankies to *all* who reviewed. Hope you're all enjoying things so far. I'm so tired, my eyes are barely open. If there are any ridiculous mistakes in this thing . . . sue me. And I know that's a terrible attitude (I will spell check this thing when it's done) and I'm well aware of the fact that this chapter was meant to be done by the 30th September and it's now like the eleventh or something of October. I've had a lot of trouble lately with friends, boyfriend and STRESS and work and stuff, but now the friends are friends again, the boyfriend is 50 miles away and I couldn't be happier (aw, he was nice, but he wasn't right . . . look at me, spreading my private life on the net!) and my work load, though still ever growing, is slightly less than it was last week. Ya know, I was up at twelve thirty last night doing History stuff? I should have been doing War, but NO, education comes first . . . blah, blah, blah! Honestly! Don't teachers understand where my priorities lie?
Well, once again, I'm sorry for the lateness of this update. I hope this chappie isn't a total let down after the last one – that tends to happen with situations like this one. HA! I made Rei die and you all hated it! Mwa ha! To everyone who said this was not a good move (or things of the like) and that it was too shocking or unpleasant or whatever (Otherworlder, I'm looking at you ;p hee, hee, lol) then what can I say? Except that this story would be really *crap* without any drama and death, and my job as an authoress is to make the reader gasp. Writing, as well as music, theatre, and art, is politics. The idea of me writing is to persuade you to think the way I want you to think. To look at things the way I want you to look at them. That is any author's goal – and I'm not about to throw aside my principles for a couple of lousy emotions when this story could be one of the most dramatic I've ever written! If you were shocked or upset – I'm glad. Because – hey, that's what I get paid for. . . except I don't get paid . . . to do this . . . damn.
Hoo, now that that's off my chest . . . Janine, babes, you wanted a shout out. For any of you who don't know, Janine is my bestest, BESTEST buddy in the whole wide world (and, according to my parents, she is my lesbian lover – although I am NOT I repeat am NOT a homosexual and neither is she! Lol)! You may have read about her in "Hidden Adversary" (for those of you who haven't read it yet, I'm advertising my other story. It's awesome; check it out!) She's amazing! And she gives me more help on these stories than I give her credit for – in more ways than even she realises through encouragement and true loyalty. I know you don't believe in God, Janine, but I know that He has blessed me completely with such a trustworthy and bubbly friend as you! I'm so thankful for all of your advice and your STORY PLOTS! ! ! Lol, I said it! Yeah, Janine helps me with the plot like crazy. In fact, I had a little of the plot for chapter 10 planned out, and I rang her about two minutes ago and she helped, for anyone who's reading! Janine, you are such a shining star (unnecessarily cheese-filled) and I have some words just for you – hopefully they're better than the Christmas card ones from last year, lol. God bless you, Janine. I love you so much J
"Thank you for being you, my friend. I'll always treasure you, as long as the sea continues to lap against the velvet sand shore and as long as the stars dance in the indigo spools of the sky. As long as the wind continues to sing through the branches and as long as the fire burns, raw in the night and bright with gold and power. Whilst the grass collects the dew of the dawn and the night collects the glow of the day, I will love you. For as long as the rainbow glimmers through the clouds and for as long as the heart continues to pulse I will stand by you. As long as the silver shines in your eyes and as long as the memories are engraved in the echo of time I will hold you close to my heart. Whilst strength still lies within my fingers and when years from now my grasp is empty, I will cling to you tightly. I will hold your hand firmly – and I know that you will hold mine in return."
Well, Janine, there's your shout out. You know I mean it because that last paragraph wasn't lyrics or anything – I wrote it! So there. Who says I can't write from the heart? Humph. Hope it sufficed. Lol. Anyone who read that, if you wanna use it anywhere, you can, but give me credit at the end. It took me a whole six minutes to write that! In fact I'm not even sure it took six minutes, but ya know, I worked hard on that! Lol.
Anyways, on with the show. Enjoy ten. It's 22:08 pm. Voila!
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Chapter Ten: Nightmares
Tyson finally pulled away from Jenny's grip and she smiled at him, encouragingly, her face blotchy and the paint on her face streaked even further by the tears she was wiping away with a shaking hand. Tyson smiled back, much comforted, not daring to look left to the huge metal doors that opposed them. Instead he looked to Max, who leaned on the wall nearby, his face expressionless.
"You okay, Maxi?" asked Tyson, his voice sounding a little strange. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve – he carried no tissues. Max lifted his ice blue eyes to meet Tyson's own grey ones, and smiled rather tightly.
"Yeah. Fine. You?"
Tyson, somewhat taken aback by the lack of emotion or expression in his friend's voice, blinked and let go of Jenny's arms, which he had been holding to. "Um . . . yeah, I guess. We have to move on."
Max stood straight, his slim form moving away from the wall as he did so. "You're right there. And it needs to be quick."
He glanced down at Kai, who was on his knees, his face away from them and his grey hair masking his expression carefully.
"You hear that, Kai?" asked Max, suddenly moving over to the silent boy, "We gotta move. Now."
Kai remained still, his fist clenched into a ball and his gaze upon the metal of the door in front of him. Max growled, the sound of the distant alarms becoming ever more present, and moved right over to Kai.
"Kai, I said we have to move! Forget it!"
Max grabbed Kai by the shoulder. Tyson and Jenny looked at each other and winced, knowing it was a big mistake for Max to make.
Funnily enough, when they looked back at Max, he was still standing. Kai had done nothing to rebuke either the touch or the brashness of his words. Tyson merely blinked as Kai got to his feet with a sigh, his gaze trailing along the floor.
Attempting to focus now on events ahead and not events that had passed, Tyson looked down at Dave. The blood from Dave's back was still spreading beneath the unconscious lad, still creeping out like a disease along the grey tiled floor.
"Tyson?" cut Max's interruption, "I think you should leave Dave behind."
Tyson started, not quite sure he had heard right. "Huh?"
"Leave him. He's already dead."
Tyson felt his nose scrunch up, and a glance at Jenny told him that she felt the same way. Max seemed to be regressing even further into that world of no emotions, which Tyson dreaded so much. Earlier he had bordered upon its shadowy entrance at the death of Tala and he now realised it was best to avoid that vortex of emptiness and lack of feeling. Max, it seemed, enjoyed being pulled further and further in.
"Max, you don't know what you're saying. We can't leave Dave behind!"
Max sneered. "Why not? It's not like he's helping us at the moment!"
"Ye' can't just say that, Max!" exclaimed Jenny, looking at the motionless form of Dave, "It ain't righ'. E's a good mate. I wouldn't let ye'. What do you say, Kai?"
She paused, waiting a little smugly for her answer to come, knowing that Kai would side with her as he was good friends with Dave (well, to say good friends meant that Kai didn't hate Dave. He was never really friendly to many people).
Silence.
"Kai? Kai!" Jenny said, still looking at Dave, and then swivelling around to look at the boy. She'd never seen him like how he was then. His handsome face was so cold, so disheartened, and he simply looked lost. He continued to gaze at the foot of the metal double doors, his hands by his side, one wrapped around his Beyblade.
Suddenly, as though realisation dawned upon him, Kai blinked, and then looked sharply down at his Beyblade, the blue material glinting in the overhead luminosity. His brows were suddenly furrowed, as though he were deep in thought, and his eyes scanned back and forth over the blade in his hands, the brown irises flitting.
"No . . ."Max stepped forwards, elated that Kai had not answered and deciding to take over the role of leader himself. "Kai, move it. Stop missing what's long gone."
Max was about to say more when the blue blade suddenly shot past his head, missing by and inch or three, literally ripping through the air and slamming into the opposite wall behind them all, splintering into a multitude of pieces of sparking blue and crimson, coming to rest with a shower of tinkers on the tiled floor. The only piece that remained intact was the Bit-Chip. Kai had thrown his blade at the wall.
"Why d'you do that?" asked Tyson, running over to the mess with his hands spread in surprise. Kai ran a hand through his hair.
"I don't believe it. We could have done it but we didn't! I just can't believe that!"
"What?" egged Jenny, her face a little frightened looking, "What are ye' on abou'?"
Kai took a breath, knowing he was unsteady. "I mean . . . I mean that we could have used Dranzer or Draciel to help . . . to help Rei . . . and we didn't! How could I have been so blind?"
Tyson stared, agonised by the news. He couldn't believe they had forgotten one of their strongest weapons and had neglected to use it in a time of crisis. It had been a costly and terrible mistake to make.
"You're right . . . you're right Kai," he said, his voice shaking again, "but we have to move on. Rei . . . Rei wouldn't want us to give up."
Kai looked away for a moment, obviously pained by the realisation he had just stumbled upon, and then he looked back at Tyson, his face cold and hard.
"Do you know, Tyson," he said, his voice starved of feeling and thirsty for emotion, "Do you know that Rei died thinking I hated him? He died thinking I was disappointed in him. Because they're the last words I spoke to him."
Dumbfounded by all this, Tyson didn't quite know what to say. Max felt, even with his distinct lack of sympathy at the moment, that it would be wrong to speak. Jenny didn't feel the urge to speak - unusual for her, but showing a mark of certain respect. Kai continued, his eyes still glinting, betraying the emotions that his voice forsook.
"I respected Rei with every part of me. He was such a strong person . . . and I . . . "
He stopped, pausing for a moment to collect himself, feeling that a proper send off was required but not knowing whether he was in control of himself to the extent that he could conduct such a service. He decided to end on a more personal note. He turned to face the great grey double doors.
"Rei, it's better to die standing than to die on your knees. You, my friend, were . . . you flew the whole way. Dulce est decorum est."
He fell silent once more, closing his eyes for a moment, paying respect in his own way. Behind him, Tyson blinked away a few fresh tears, that familiar turning feeling in his stomach becoming more apparent. Over to his right, Jenny muttered a prayer under her breath, closing her own eyes for just a few seconds. And lastly, Max simply leaned back against the wall, his nose wrinkling in a tiny scowl, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. The only thing on his mind at the moment was the fact that they had to get moving. He glanced down at the pieces of beyblade on the floor and his scowl increased. Gently he fingered his own beyblade, wondering how anybody could ever just throw their beyblade away. His own Draciel was precious to him. He'd never ever even think of risking its existence through some angry fit of self-denial. Still, Kai had never been the most predictable person, and, glancing down at the shattered blue shards of plastic and glinting slices of metal glimmering in the manufactured light, Max noticed that the bit chip had not been destroyed. Although the rest of the beyblade had been destroyed – probably beyond repair (and, mentioning that, who was there to repair it? Kenny, the best repairman the Blade-Breakers had known, had been burned to death in a fire a few weeks before), but the bit chip was still intact.
Max looked up at Kai. His back was turned, his eyes closed, and, while Max had the chance, he bent down very subtly, very quietly, and slipped the tiny Dranzer bit beast into his own pocket.
Suddenly, Kai opened his eyes and turned around. Max hastily leaned against the wall, closing his own eyes. Kai watched him for a moment, his face blank, and then breezed past. Tyson looked at him.
"Where are you going, Kai?"
Kai stopped, and then turned to face Tyson. "To the next level. We have to move ourselves on, Tyson, in more ways than one."
Tyson, struck by how much more delicately Kai had spoken of their present situation, smiled, nodding in agreement. Besides him, Jenny grinned.
"No time like th' present, righ' lads?"
Max stepped away from the wall.
"I still think we should leave Dave behind. He'll slow us down too much."
Jenny whirled around before Tyson could offer another weak protest. "Listen, Max. I don't know what's up wiv ye', but listen close. We leave nobody. Imagine if you was Dave. Would you like te' be left be'yind?"
Max glared at her, still adamant that he was right, but knowing his argument would be quelled if he tried to put it forward again. He merely wrinkled his nose in annoyance and shrugged. "Fine."
Jenny seemed satisfied, and she followed on to where Tyson stood. "Shall we lift 'im, Tyson?"
Tyson nodded with appreciation, and he allowed her to lift the limp Dave up with him. It felt a lot better now that there were two people holding him. Tyson was beginning to realise that no individual effort in this game was to be rewarded. After all, Rei had certainly managed to save Kai's beyblade, but for what cause? He had died for it – all for nothing. Kai's beyblade was now destroyed – although he had noticed that the bit chip had survived. He peered over at the small pile of rubble that once had held the majestic phoenix.
"Wh---what?"
He blinked and looked again. "Kai, did you pick up your bit beast?"
Kai looked at him. "No."
"Well, Dranzer was there before, and now he's gone. I could have sworn that it wasn't destroyed before. Where'd it go?
Kai frowned. "I – I don't know. And I don't care."
Tyson's brow furrowed as Kai turned and began walking towards the end of the corridor. There were a set of metal stairs awaiting them there. They looked like they went on for some way – when outside the building they had noticed how tall it was. This staircase led to the top floor of the building and so it must have been high.
Kai waited for Tyson to pass him with Dave and then Jenny. He didn't want them going at the back, simply waiting to be ambushed. That was far too risky – and he felt determined not to lose another member of his team. So many had been lost along the way already and their mission was not even complete. What made things worse was that they still had to escape once they had finished what they had come to do.
That singular task lay directly above them. They had to find Voltaire.
And kill him.
Kai no longer felt any sort of emotion about murdering his own grandfather. After watching Rei die, helpless, vulnerable, innocent, before his eyes, thanks to his own grandfather's destruction and evil intention, his heart had hardened irreversibly to his relative. It almost sickened him to think they were part of the same family – but Kai was never melodramatic if he could help it. He would settle himself with seeking revenge. And seek it he would.
Tyson begin the long climb, followed by Jenny, carrying the form of Dave, which left a steady trickle of blood as they traversed the case. Behind Dave followed Max, who watched the floor. It seemed that Max had lost touch with the outside world – and the inside of his own heart and soul. Tyson knew that Max had never been like this in nature. Environment had shaped his every thought now, and he was turning into a moulded shell of war crime and tragedy.
"That's a tragedy in itself" thought Tyson, his face a mask of determination although his heart bled for his best friend. Max and Tyson had always been so close. Yet this war was ripping them apart so cruelly. The throne of Max's heart was cold, and it would now be so difficult to reach the tender soft underneath the freeze now. Would Tyson ever have his friend back, or would Max be claimed by the war? Was there a face behind every scar?
"The war can claim people without killing them – or even touching them," thought Tyson, "This is so evil."
Behind Tyson, Jenny hitched Dave's legs and tightened her grasp. The past half hour, for her, had been one of turmoil and madness. Her mind raced even now, and she couldn't focus on one single thought. Her heart beat rapidly, and not because she was exhausted. This was true pain – this experience. Death clawed through them all with outstretched grasp and piercing strength. She couldn't help wonder who it would reach for next.
Strangely enough she wasn't afraid. Death didn't scare her – partially because of her religious beliefs, and partially because she had seen it all before now. Her friends had gone through it simultaneously, and she was starting to see that there were worse things than death. Still, she continued strong in her hope that not only was she there for a purpose, but that there was a life outside this madness. That they would get out of it eventually.
Underneath her firm grasp of Dave's flaccid legs, she felt a sudden jerk. A twitch of sorts. Tyson obviously felt it too, as he stopped short and turned his head.
"Was that Dave?"
Jenny nodded, frowning. He had moved. His eyes were still closed, but he had moved. Tyson smiled.
"Maybe he's going to wake up soon!"
Tyson turned around again and started to walk up the stairs again. Jenny followed, her face not so optimistic. By his smile, she knew that sullen hall; by his smile she knew they stood in hell.
"Help us please . . ." she whispered suddenly, not sure what compelled her to speak the words. She pressed her lips together as she walked – when she felt a shove past her. Looking left, she saw a flurry of blond and not so innocent freckles moving past her breezily.
"Keep moving, guys, no time to stop!"
Max took the lead, stepping in front of Tyson. His blue eyes were as cold as the climate about them, and he focused on nothing as he climbed the winding staircase.
Happy are those who lose imagination . . .
Max turned around. "Come on! Let's go! You're too slow!"
Tyson winced, his feet and arms hurting. After all, Max wasn't carrying his own weight in friendship, was he?
"Max, wait a second. This is really hard!"
They have enough to carry with ammunition. Their spirit drags no pack . . .
Max rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I did tell you to leave him behind, didn't I?" He looked down at his hand as he turned around and reached for the metal banister rail, and noticed a thin red line, a cut, seeping blood, torn flesh revealing tissue. He hadn't noticed.
Their old wounds, save with cold, cannot more ache. Having seen all things red, their eyes are rid of the hurt of the colour of blood forever . . .
"Max . . ." Tyson grimaced at his friend's brutal attitude, and his thoughts flicked back to those dark days in the labour camp where they had spent a good while. He saw Max's face, just once, tears spilling, and his eyes revealing his shock, his disbelief, at the treatment of those around him. At the inhumane torture of their Captain. At the death the people received and the justice they didn't. Now things were different. Max couldn't be reached. He stood alone now.
"Tyson, stop complaining!" cried Max without looking backwards, waving a nonchalant hand. "Just get on with it. You brought him."
Tyson fell silent, not sure how to respond. He decided it would be best to leave it, let it drop, and try to reach Max another way when the situation was not so precarious.
At the back, Kai followed, his brown eyes passionate yet silent, and very cold. He had fallen into some sort of dream. Each step he took he didn't know how. Within him, deep, deep within, beyond the reach of noise and sight, his soul was screaming for release, for help, for a way out. Still, he had to keep up his mask. He couldn't falter, not in front of the others. How could he ask them to stay unbroken when he himself could not?
"It's a lie . . ." he thought bitterly as he took yet another step, catching sight of a small flick of blood on the grey floor, "Dulce est decorum est? Sweet and proper? It's all a lie. To die for your country is simply a release. To die serving your Captain is your escape. Escape from this service in hell."
Kai had to physically restrain himself from simply stopping and dropping to his knees at that. How could he go on? How could he continue to lead his friends – his friends – through this gauntlet of grey grass and unfinished fields; this trench of hot crimson slaughter? How was this fair?
Suddenly, Kai felt something jabbing into his neck. It did not carry much impact – it simply jerked him a little upon contact – and he turned his head, his eyes scanning carefully. However, his range could not quite reach the point of impact, and he could not see what was going on. He lifted his hand to his neck, wondering what was happening, and felt a small, smooth object, about three inches long. It was embedded into the skin somehow. Frowning, Kai brushed his hand against it, and then, as quickly as it came, the object, whatever it was, had fallen from his neck and down the stairs behind him. He was torn between retrieving it and carrying on – and dutifully chose the later. He felt compelled to watch the backs of his friends now.
He stepped up again, still wondering what the point was in that, when a strange feeling attacked him, swept over him. He felt cold; cold yet hot, and for a moment there was no light to see his friends by. Blinking, suddenly scared, he returned to normal, and quickly put that incident out of his mind, knowing it was important to focus on their main task and not minor details.
Way up ahead, Max turned a corner, which was much sharper than the gentle winding twines of the staircase so far. He took a brief look around – but had little time to gasp.
Five guards leapt at him. They were simply armed with knives – no guns, no explosives, but still terrifying. They were dressed all in black, with frightening white visages to mask their features. Max cried out and fell backwards, slamming straight into Tyson.
Tyson let go of Dave and tumbled back, rolling, along with Jenny and Dave, down to where Kai followed. He leaped out of the way of them as they scrambled to their feet. Above them, the five guards were swamping Max, leaping atop him and kicking and punching and tearing, biting, thrashing, flashing claws . . .
Growling, Kai flew up the stairs, some sort of paternal, protective instinct expressing itself, and flung himself into the mêlée. He managed to get two of the well-built soldiers off the slimmer form of Max and he rolled over, grappling with them as they attempted to draw their knives. His head slammed hard into the stairs and he felt blood, but he didn't care, and it certainly didn't bother him. He was like a possessed animal, snarling and cursing and doing what he could to protect his friend.
By this time, Tyson and Jenny had joined in. Dave lay further down the stairs, his back twisted at a strange angle. Jenny was using her computer to whack one of the soldiers unconscious, and Tyson was merely brawling – quite effectively. All had felt some sort of passion when Max had been attacked – of all people, Max. The coldest, most uncaring of the group, and they had all still rushed to help him. The group shared some sort of unspoken bond that they could never explain in words. Actions simply had to suffice.
Tyson felt his foot slip and he and his guard tumbled a few steps down. Luckily, Tyson landed on top, and the guard landed directly on his neck, breaking it with a deft 'snap'. Tyson took a breath, then another, and then he clambered off the guard, wiping his brow and then quickly turning back to the fight. Jenny had overpowered her guard and knocked him out, and was helping Max, who was attempting to fight off the biggest guard. Kai still scrabbled with the other two, his face a contortion of anger and adrenaline. And something else.
Tyson decided that Kai needed the most help. He ran up the stairs and pulled one of the guards right off Kai, who was pressed up against the grey wall. He sucker punched the guard he had pulled off right in the jaw and sent him flying. Rubbing his knuckles, Tyson followed the afflicted guard, only to find he had been knocked out by banging his head against the wall. Smirking, oddly pleased with his actions, Tyson turned back to Kai – who was still attempting to fight off this last guard – well, there was still another, heftier guard, but Max and Jenny were just about managing him.
"Why is Kai - of all of us - having trouble?" thought Tyson as he sped back up the stairs. Suddenly, as Tyson arrived, Kai seemed to perk up, and threw the guard off with ease, kicking him in the face in the process neatly and stealing his consciousness away for now. Kai glanced at Tyson for a second.
"Thanks."
Tyson nodded, knowing full well that is was an honour to receive praise or thanks from the praiseworthy. Turning his attentions back to Max and Jenny, they saw that the bigger guard was lying on the floor. Jenny had a nasty looking gash on her upper chest, but she brushed it off.
"S'noffin. Jus' a scratch. Don't worry."
Max nodded, not quite aware of the thanks he owed the rest. He certainly had changed deeply. He looked up the staircase. "Let's continue."
Tyson and Jenny began to move back down the staircase to retrieve Dave, Tyson pausing next to Kai and muttering "Are you okay? You seemed a little out of it."
"Yeah," was the brief reply, and so Tyson assisted Jenny in the hoisting of Dave. They lifted him and began their journey again, their minds settling back into that stupor of Rei's death and pain. It seemed to haunt them already. Max led the way again, and Kai trailed last once more.
Jenny resumed her hold on Dave's legs, her grip slippery with perspiration. Dave was a tall lad, and so was quite heavy. Still, she continued. She didn't mind carrying him if it would help save his life, which already hung by a slowly rotting thread.
A noise from behind her made Jenny stop short, and she turned around. She saw that Kai had stopped and dropped his head, strangely, and was leaning onto the banister, his hair falling into his gaze, which was averted and a little glossy.
"Kai?"
Jenny gently put Dave's legs down, Tyson stopping and turning around, and she moved down the steps.
"Kai, what's wrong? Are ye' hurt or sumfin?"
At her voice, Kai looked up, his pupils dragging along until they met with her own. There seemed to be no recognition, no memory, but just the blank pupil. Jenny frowned, concerned, and moved closer.
"Kai?"
Upon hearing her voice again, Kai blinked, and that recognition seemed to flood back into his eyes. He gasped very quietly, and then shook his head faintly, just enough to remove his hair from his eyes.
"What is it, Jenny?"
Jenny raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "What jus 'appened te you?"
Kai's face was a blank. "I don't . . . know. I think . . . I think I'm seeing things . . . "
His eyes clouded again, and this time he sank to his knees, one hand still gripping the metal handrail, the other moving to his head. He ran it through his floppy grey hair, looking stricken.
"What's happening?" he muttered, "You're all . . . changing . . . "
Jenny's eyes widened and her heart began to thud loudly. "Kai, what's wrong? Tyson, get 'ere!"
Tyson placed Dave down gently and moved back to the two stationary soldiers, while Max simply stopped and watched with unfeeling, unsympathetic eyes.
Tyson knelt beside Kai, who was breathing in a worryingly shallow way all of a sudden.
"Buddy, wanna explain to me?" he said gently. Kai didn't look up, but closed his eyes.
"This isn't real . . . " he whispered, squinting his eyes violently, as though trying to shut something out. Tyson placed a hand on Kai's shoulder.
"Look at me, Kai."
Watching as Kai's hand clenched into a fist in his hairline, Tyson smiled reassuringly as Kai began to look up. He didn't understand what was happening to Kai, nor why it was happening, but it was obviously a situation that required rational, calm thinking. He kept himself steady as Kai's dizzy gaze met his own. He looked into his Captain's eyes and was suddenly swept by a cold, chill feeling. He couldn't explain why, either.
"Kai?" said Tyson, unable to mask the sudden frenetic agitation in his voice. What could have done this to his strong leader?
"Jenny, what happened?"
"Dunno! I jus' turned 'round an' e' was all dizzy lookin' and pale."
Tyson examined his friend's face. It was suddenly devoid of all colour, as pale as ruin, and it was then Tyson noticed that Kai's pupils had constricted drastically. He looked at the eyes again, and cried out when all of a sudden the flickered and then fell shut. He caught Kai as he fell forward.
"What? What's going on?"
Jenny looked at Tyson, and then back to Kai, her eyes scanning his face, his neck, his scarf . . . wait . . .
"Tyson! His neck!"
Tyson looked awkwardly at Kai's neck – he was trying to support him. There, just above the joining between the neck and shoulder, was a scarlet red mark, a circle, about the size of an English penny coin, a vicious rouge with a tiny speck of blood beginning to dry in the centre.
"Has he been shot with something?" cried Jenny, beckoning Max down. Max remained unmoving.
"Leave him."
Tyson glanced up at Max. "Yeah right. Good one."
"No, leave him. He's not able to help us now. He'll only slow us down."
Jenny chose to ignore this – now wasn't the time to get into an argument with Max about whether it was right to leave an individual behind. Still, it would be very difficult now to carry Dave and Kai.
"Kai, can you hear me?"
Tyson was speaking very softly to the insentient boy, but was interrupted by another, more unfamiliar cry. Looking down the stairs, Tyson shook his head in despair as another seven or eight guards began to gain their ground. He glanced at Jenny.
"What now?"
Jenny looked down at Kai, and then back up at Tyson. "We stay. We can't leave 'im."
An arm on Tyson's shoulder stopped him from replying. He was pulled to his feet, leaving Kai to slump down to the floor. "Tyson, move. You too, Jen."
Tyson turned to see Max – and next to Max's face shone a glimmering knife, which he held in his own hand – acquired in the battle moments ago. It was tilted towards Tyson, and Max nodded.
"Come on. Move. Or I'll kill you. Leave him."
Tyson stared, open mouthed and wide eyed. Max's tone suddenly changed, as the soldiers got nearer.
"NOW!"
He jabbed Tyson's shoulder with the knife and Tyson moved forwards quickly, all of his thoughts suddenly centred on the weapon. It glinted nastily. Beside him, tears were rolling from Jenny's eyes.
"We're leavin' 'em?"
Max nodded with a grin. "You'll thank me. Move."
Jenny paused for a moment, and then moved up the stairs past Max, feeling like a complete traitor. It was important to complete the mission, but how could she leave Kai behind? And Dave?
Tyson pleaded Max with his eyes. "Buddy, think about what you're doi---"
"Shut up and move!"
Max jabbed again, this time drawing the tiniest amount of blood. Tyson forced himself to move forwards.
"Max, I can't believe you're doing this."
He turned around, and shook his head in denial at what was happening. The soldiers had reached Dave, and Tyson couldn't even see what was happening to him. As for Kai, he could see him being pulled to his feet by two other soldiers. They looked at him and laughed, sharing a look of recognition between each other. Obviously they recognized him.
"Kai!" yelled Tyson, suddenly desperate. Why was he doing this? Was he such a coward that a shining knife blade could dispel his loyalties?
The soldiers glanced upwards.
"Run!" yelled Max, grabbing Tyson's arm and throwing him up the stairs, "Now!"
Tyson did as he was told, acknowledging the fact that the threat of a knife blade could control the body. He felt so disappointed in himself, so disappointed in his lack of courage. Jenny felt the same. They had just left behind their Captain and their companion.
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There was no time, no strength, to ask . . . he knew not what . . .
His wrists were held in position by cold metal binds, and his shoulders ached with the strain. His head dropped, and he knew not why. Upon opening his eyes, glorious crimson ribbons, ripped from his own back, lay scattered about the walls of the grim dark grey room. With a pull of will, his eyes opened more and more, and the distinct lack of light flooded them. What a smooth floor the room had!
A figure sat in the corner of the room, on a small, dark mahogany wicker chair. The figure, as he woke, moved, and turned to face him.
"No . . ."Through squinting eyes, the figure did not change. The long, sleek, ebony hair fell about the naked shoulders, the bare, pale skin shining softly in the moonlight that cascaded in through a literal slit in the wall. The eyes glimmered, metallic in the moonlight, and she smiled. Her body was ravaged by something similar to anorexia – every curve, every slender trim, was marred by the cruel jolts and angles of the bones, protruding and rubbing against the outer body. The feet bled, leaving footprints of scarlet across the floor as she walked towards him.
"It's not real . . . it's not her . . ."She reached out, touched his face, stroked the warm skin, and then ran her nails down it, her smile morphing into a twisted, malevolent snarl. Sadistic.
He squirmed, his heart screaming questions at his head, which couldn't follow, and then the figure, smiling again, turned, and walked away. He watched on as she walked, the curves of her tall figure awkward with starvation and overwork.
Then he noticed the figure at the other end of the room.
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"Max! Stop!"
Max halted at Jenny's impatient yell, and he sighed.
"What, Jenny?"
Jenny and Tyson caught up with him. Since abandoning Kai and Dave, they had run for five minutes straight. She and Tyson were already worn out. The stairs had become steeper and the run had been difficult. Oddly enough, Max hadn't tired. He was almost mechanical now.
"We need to find him!" said Tyson, as if Max should already know what he was talking about. Max did.
"Oh, Tyson, when will you learn?" he said lightly, waving a hand, his blond hair moving slightly, "Kai's gone. Dave too. They're not worth thinking about now."
Max would have continued but for a slap from Jenny. He turned to face her, about to reach for his knife, when Tyson grabbed it first from his belt.
"Now Max," he said, tilting the knife from one angle to the other menacingly (though Tyson would probably not intend to use it), "We're going to find them. Kai's still alive – well, I think he is. We leave no one behind."
Max scowled. He had no choice now. They continued up the stairs – wondering how Kai had been taken out of the stairwell without having been taken past them. Dave too would have had to move past them.
"I fink we should go back down," said Jenny as they walked, eyes on Max, "I reckon there's a secret door or sumfin."
Tyson wholly agreed. He turned, the knife at the ready in case Max – who was obviously capable of anything in his current state of mind – tried anything stupid. They moved down the stairs.
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The figure stood from the hunched position in the chair and turned. He in chains shook his head weakly, unable to stop a small moan escaping his lips. This was beyond him. He didn't understand.
The figure walked towards him, another smile plastered to his features.
It was joined by another, smaller figure, with fuzzy hair and glinting spectacles. They could not properly be made out because of the lack of light in the room.
Kai Hiwatari, bound by the wrists in cruel, cold metal, his arms stretched towards the ceiling in discomfort and his legs dangling freely beneath him, watched in incomprehension as Kenny and Dango made their way to where he hung.
"H---how?" he managed to ask through parched lips. There seemed no time to ask for a drink of water. As the figures moved smoothly towards him, gliding along almost, their figures began to change and morph, twisting with the darkness. The skin on their faces hung like devils', sick of sin, and at every jolt of laughter that escaped from their suddenly corrupt bodies came blood, gargling from froth ridden lungs, seeping and spluttering in agony.
Kai squinted his eyes closed, feeling hot tears running down his cheeks and his shoulders shaking violently as he struggled to control himself. He understood so little here.
"Why?" he stammered through gritted teeth, still not opening his eyes. He received no answer. The silence compelled him to open his eyes. The rotting, mouldy figures had dissolved, were gone; as the sweet figure of Luna had disappeared.
Dave had appeared. Simply lying on the floor.
"Is that the real Dave?" thought Kai as clearly as he could manage. He had been seeing his dead friends, that was for certain. But Dave wasn't dead yet.
The figure of Dave suddenly jerked. Kai watched, his mind whirring but making no sense to him. Dave moved somehow so he was facing Kai, now on all fours, and began to drag himself along the floor towards Kai. His legs did not move; they simply dragged and lolled behind him as he clawed along, his face contorted with pain and anguish. Sick at heart, Kai looked down, not able to watch his friend suffering. When the sound of the dragging gait ceased and there was silence, Kai found the courage to look up again. He could not restrict an outcry at what he saw.
Before him stood Rei.
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Tyson pressed his hands along the wall. He was searching desperately for something, anything, to let him in. He knew there must be a secret passage or something. Jenny watched Max from behind him.
His fingers pressed gently and then with more pressure than before, as he grew more desperate.
"Stay calm, Tys," said Jenny, keeping one eyes on Max at all times. He stood sullenly. "Be cool."
Tyson nodded, although he found it very difficult to do so. How could he stay cool? How could he stay calm, when his friend and his Captain were in the hands of the enemy, in the hands of evil – what if they were being tortured mercilessly, or what if---
"Oh!"
Tyson's fingers pressed in one of the grey tiles on the wall. To his right slid open a panel, about half a metre wide and the same in height. Tyson turned to Jenny.
"We're in."
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"R . . . Rei?"Kai furrowed his brow in frightened confusion. He had never been so scared in his life. His whole body was shaking wildly, and he was finding it difficult to focus his brown eyes. That was no surprise – Kai was seeing people before him whom he had watched die in battle or tragic circumstance.
Rei stood still in the centre of the room, his face tilted downwards. His black hair hung jaggedly over his eyes, and Kai could barely make his face out. It was a terrifying sight.
Suddenly, it was as if the room were filled with cloudy green water. Kai found he could still breath, and yet the figure of Rei changed. Kai watched as Rei began to flounder, like a man on fire, choking, drowning. The whites of his eyes writhed desperately.
Biting his lip as another moan escaped his lips, Kai closed his eyes, shaking his head desperately, tears seeping from his eyes and mingling with the green water about him. He couldn't take this. He felt that he was going insane – yet this was all so real. There was nothing dreamlike about the people he saw.
"No, no . . . no, it isn't real . . .no . . . "Feeling his whole form shivering and his heart racing uncontrollably in his chest, Kai opened his eyes.
And found himself staring straight into the eyes of Rei, whose face was almost touching his own it was so close. The skin was rotted, covered in green, damp mildew, the eyes, once radiating such a pure, innocent light, emitted malice, whilst the mouth twisted into a bitter smirk. And Rei's hand, bleeding from the nails, shot up and thrust itself about Kai's neck, pressing against it tightly, wrapping itself about it cruelly, slowly closing off the air passage until it was no longer open. Kai was too scared, too weak, too dizzy to move, to fight. His body was in shock – he couldn't will himself to struggle as his lungs heaved.
"See?" hissed Rei, his lips split and blue, "See what it's like to drown? Look what you did to me."
It was too much. Kai's body was so battered and could not take anything more. In his present, exhausted state, his mind could not sustain itself. The emotional burden was too great a stress. His whole body went stiff as rigor mortis set in prematurely. He went into complete shock, and his eyes fell shut again without him realising it.
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Sherbet Mayhem: And . . . I think I'll leave it there. Ha. I love writing cliff hangers. Is Kai gonna die? Don't give me that "Oh, she likes Kai too much to kill him. She won't kill off her favourite". You saw what I did to Rei. I'm unsure as to who I should kill next, to be honest. J Hee, hee, I'm evil! Or sadistic. Or both. Or none. Just got a weird imagination.
Erm . . . it's 01:15 am. College in morning. Will be très sleepy tomorrow. Lol. Oh well. I have a couple of thanks to give.
People who I simply must (dahling) give credit to in this chapter are the one and only Plumb (the musician) because through the entire writing of this chapter, I have listened to one song over and over and over again. It's called "Nice, naïve and beautiful" and it's great. I'd like to credit the late Wilfred Owen, for inspiration and wonders beyond the literary mind. In the italics (in the part where Max is losing it) that's from one of his works. Thanks to him for letting me use 'em!
Ooo, what will happen to Kai? How about Tyson? And Jen? And Max? Is Dave dead or not? So many questions! Serious question, is the whole evil Max thing believable? I'm not sure. But I got creeped out by my own writing for the FIRST TIME EVER with the whole Rei thing. Yay. Oh the energy. Oh the enthusiasm. Need sleep.
Thankies and earrings for your ears to all those who both read and reviewed. Please continue to give the helpful, constructive and PRAISE-FILLED reviews you've been giving – sorry, I love being told I'm good. I actually have the self confidence of a salmon. Ask my friends. I need you guys to boost my ego – oh great, now it sounds like I'm fishing for compliments . . . ;p
Anyhow . . . yeah, so review! It ain't hard! I'm not making a promise as to when the next chapter will be up yet because last time I couldn't keep it. I really honestly am sorry about that. I know I hate it when people say they'll update by a date and then don't. I'm such a bad hypocrite. Sorry. Hope the chapter made up for my gross impudence and general sloth like behaviour.
See ya soon, guys, and hope you're still enjoying!
God bless and big fat kisses x x x
Sherbet Mayhem x x x