Pertrification.
What had happened?
Where was Yoka?
Buzz stood furthermore on the porch, the small piece of parchment in his hand. A light wind gushed in the bushes. But all around, only the darkness domineered. No soul whispered in the shadows.
Shiftlessness. Nervousness. Those had little by little crawled in his heart. This all... seemed to be far much more than just a joke. Why had she been in such panic the previous times... feared something unactual? But was it that there actually was something? A cobweb of feeble assumptions... with no logical tracks.
Mind bathing in blankness, Buzz roamed once or twice around the house. But there was nothing logical. Nothing to be seen. Only the same bushes and trees that had come together with the purchase. The stump of the birk she had logged. Emptiness... Through the backdoor, he slouched gradually in. These minutes in such irresolution... why did they feel like hours, like decades? That picture on the wall...
Lightyear blinked. Yes, dad. He would need to call his father. That would be the first rational task to do. If his girl was not to appear, neither there would be a depart tomorrow. Moreover... if -after a levelheaded time of waiting- Yoka would not appear home, perhaps he would need Zurg's help. It was surprising, how now and just now, it was one of the rare situations when Buzz felt rather perplexed. How could that be possible for a brave space ranger? Years, eras he had built his legend, fought evil with gleam and glory. And in most tricky occasions having a plan ready in his mind.
But... nothing like this had occurred before. There had been no person like she walking along with the pace of his steps... No. Training for circumstances equal to this they did not give at Star Command.
Then again... perhaps nothing had happened. Perhaps... but, then again... Hardly blinking he stood at the hall table. Her small wrist communicator rested still on the glossy surface. She would go nowhere without that, that was a fact.
"Alright. I'm calling dad and then go to ask the neighbors. Blast, straighten up yourself, Buzz Lightyear!" he grunted out loud, and slammed his fist against his other palm. Soon the palm-portable vidphone replaced that clenched hand. Beep beep beep... It took a while before Zora's rather snarly face appeared in the screen. His water-dripping hair was glued onto his forehead, and half of his face was covered with lilac shaving cream.
"Son? I would appreciate it, if you would not on purpose call when my evening bath-shave is having its summit. I tolerate no stubble, no surplus beard hair in a wrong spot. No day, no night. Tsup. Ditto." In the background, a grub handed him a small towel. Beginning to wipe his face into it, he continued, "Then... at what time shall you be here tomorrow, Son? You shall recall that I am counting the hours according to Planet Z time. An old sweet dandy tradition I shall not leave behind."
"Dad... I'm not sure if we're coming tomorrow." Buzz hesitated, "I... I don't know, but something strange has happened."
Zurg's dark eyes stood adamant.
"I came home, Yoka was supposed to be here with everything ready. But she wasn't here and then someone had left me this odd messag..." He was to bring the parchment forth, but just at the moment, the doorbell rang.
"Wait up, someone's at the door." Lightyear blurted and darted to the hall. It, it had to be she, now!
But... what to encounter? A scene similar to what had faced him earlier today. Only the twinkle of pale stars mocked him above, as he dumbly peered at the empty yard. No-one there. In a reflex, as a relic of past's weirdness, his regard shifted itself towards the doorframe's right side. And there... No, it could not be.
There was another piece of parchment attached with a small pin.
Heart pounding like a kettledrum, Buzz ripped the message open. He remained to stare at a few lines written in an angry tone.
'Let's leave the rhymes, shall we? So, go on and finish the call. We're not telling tales to dad. Let this be a secret only between us two. And the more you will blab on, the more she will suffer. And we would not want that, would we?'
Broken exhales left his lungs. This was no joke anymore. This was a threat. Someone... something... had taken Yoka away? Over and over again his aghast oculars scanned through the letter. That same handwriting... only turned clearer now.
It looked like as if he himself had written it.
What?
Why?
And how did someone know he was just at the moment discussing with his father?
Cold wriggles churning in his stomach, the man returned in. He... could not go on with the phonecall? This... whoever it was, was blackmailing, putting Lightyear in the hard pressure of pliers. Leave it as a secret? She will suffer? The screech in his head told the consequences even too clearly. If he would now and here yell out the whole story to Zurg, something terrible would happen to his wife?
A pallid fog of blur hazed his vision, flickering, sizzling. His new life... it was all supposed to be so calm! His precious sanctuary here, where he could have had relaxed and learned to know his dearest. This white, clean house... what did it hide inside itself? Who spied him?
As being locked in the cage of fear's oppression, Lightyear did his choice. He would not mess anyone else in this, but handle the fight face to face with the faceless. However... nothing could shield the expression glistening in his eyes, his lopsided wry smile, when his visage was back at the vidphone.
"Son, what was it? What is going on over there? What were you going to tell me?" Zora went on continuing the discussion.
"Ahh... emm... nothing. N-never mind. W-we won't be coming t-tomorrow ye---˝ the younger male giggled his back sweating. This play did not convince Zurg. Rather much only agitated the elder's sudden graveness.
"Buzz? What is going on? Do not lie to your father!"
"Ahh nothing. R-really. All is fine. I gotta go now. Bye!" Buzz panted and closed the comlink despite that the old emperor had almost a volcano-sized tantrum on the other side. Pressing his forehead against his palm, he snapped completely off the phone line. That guy would call again... and he needed to stay at least a shard of time in peace. Just to think, think, think... No outside persons to interfere. For her sake... and...
"Hehehe. Well done, Lightyear." A voice rang out of nowhere, as if answering cruelly to the Morphean's dilemma.
Buzz swung around, eyes flown wide. What was that?
"Who's there?" he yelped and grabbed the nearest stool for his possible defense.
"Hahahaha. How pathetic...the little do-gooder Buzz Lightyear bathing in sweat and fear... hahahah. Just what I've wanted to see..." the voice swept around the connected rooms, hovering nearer the panicky household's host. The cackle of the invisible Shadow.
The man stood like a fossil on his spot. Was he listening to his own voice? That tone was exactly similar to his one... excluding the dark and vile tint. "W--what are you? Did you cause this all to Yoka and me? Are you the one that left those blasted messages?" Regardless of the eerie climate, he did not utterly lose his nerves.
"Good guess... perhaps it was me. Or perhaps it was you..."
"Me? What the blazes...?" the ranger clenched his fists, foam coming out of his mouth. To whom was he actually talking? To something imaginable... something coming from beyond borders? No... ghosts did not exist. Dead were dead. "Why are you doing this? What the heck are you? WHERE'S MY WIFE?"
"Why...? Oh, the little innocent questions of the naïve puny Buzz Lightyear... why? Why? Hahahaha! Because! Why! Because!"
"What kind of lunatic are you? That doesn't make any sense!" the Captain had a hard time to understand such pointless laughter. "What do you want from me?"
Suddenly a whisper came right at Buzz' ear. A whisper drawled in such an icy tone that it could have frozen the living flames of a sun.
"I want to see you crawl..."
In a reflex faster than lightning, the ranger smashed the chair to the prompt's direction. In vain. The stool hit the empty floor meters ahead. A gush of air brushed above him, together with a silent cackle. The French horn leading to the garden was flung open by a hidden hand.
So, the hit had missed the ghost? But a quick thought revealed that a phantasm it was not. This, whatever it was, was attempting an escape. And since when had illusive spooks used doors for such purposes? They ghosted, like his former teammate. A rational thinker could in flash spot effective details. Hence, Buzz leapt after the runaway. If only he could block it before...
But no. Just when he had approached the backdoor's threshold, the booty was gone. Only the night's darkness was left to jeer at him. The dark-blue murks... and the lonely tear of rage glimmering on his cheek.
--------------
The thirtieth time. No answer. Only the busy signal of a disconnected comlink line. Exhaling deep, Zurg switched off his own com channel. Nothing. Practically nothing could be retrieved from Morph's direction.
He stood up, straightened his pose. His teeth were pressed tight together, his bushy black brows crumpled over the narrowed eyes. The grooves of the cheeks deepened, as the expression hardened to steel on that face of age and discerning. As if his whole body, his whole being would be feeling the air around, trying to sense the subtle elements...
The door of the room creaked. A slender figure tiptoed in, carrying a worried shade.
"Zetapoo?" It piped nervously.
"My son", the man produced a deep grunt, "Lied to me."
"Lied?"
"Yes! Lied to his father! I felt it. A disturbance..." the emperor stagnated rigid in all his might. "The dark side is arising..."
------------------
The night still crawled forwards in Kaon's forest. The song of cicadas muffled the whirr of air under its tunes. Sweeping past the underbrush, swaying the grass flat underneath, a torrent of wind breezed in the middle of the thick trees. Such a bluster was not a normal phenomenon of nature. No... the shadow of avenge fleeted rapidly towards his fortress. Away, away his foe's house... a house he had turned to an incubus of despair.
Hard it had become to see forwards. The blear chasm of sky that had escorted the copse with a lumen of stars, was gone. Now the massive oaks stretched their arms everywhere, and eloined the light.
The whirlwind ceased with a groan. A pair of feet softly descended on the dry fir needles beneath. A gray line of path meandered near there... yes, he was going to the right direction but still needed a star to guide the way.
Like before, the mere darkness belched out a shade interwoven in the same tapestry of ink and black. A gush of cape, and something gray disappeared inside it, while something else appeared out. A lantern, which was immediately lit. Forceful enough this opaque light was to show that the lumps of murky mass around here did indeed have an outlining.
"That stupid Lightyear..." the pile of robes bethought itself, "Slowly, slowly I will melt him in my grasp. It starts to be ready in my head... of how to release my revenge. But still, still... I need time, some more. On the other hand... the slower it goes, the funnier it is to see him gradually breaking down. The joy of mind's torture, heheheh..."
While gloating a tad too enthusiastically, the robed figure was not skimming the reality. The green lantern in his hand, he took a step. One step... the boot under the flowing black hems touched the ground. Next, the whole composition just flopped down. A noisy growl of pain reached the nearby night owls.
"Blast..." the shadow puffed, as if the single fall had caused excruciating ache. The light was half-sunken in the nearby shrubbery. Still, in its feeble rim could be seen how laborious it was for this antagonist to get up. He took support from the close tree trunk, and found finally a balance.
"Darn it... why won't the legs still carry me? My other bones ossified back, why did the legs remain that weak? Lightyear... you destroyed me... this is all your fault! Zurg and you. And your pathetic team. And that Zurg... promises, promises. And he NEVER came back to me. He was a liar like everyone else."
The figure fumbled his other sleeve. His fingers picked out something looking like a tiny remote control. A few wires were attached to it, and they continued inside the broad wristband.
Click. Immediately the man of mystery rose up to hover in the air. Obviously under his robes some kind of device had received an electrical command. Or so it had looked like. Fast the menace moved again. A dive, and the lantern was back in his hand. To aid the way... towards the partly burned rocks deep inside the woods.
The mossy, broken pillars were surrounding the lonely night crawler. This square was like a home to the Shadow, or actually more than that. It was his home, of all the places in this world. Nowhere else to go... but only to hide. This plaza of the old destroyed fortress gave him an asylum. Yet... it was a refuge breathing ancient evilness besides this man who was resurrected almost from ashes. Glory, gone. Majesty, gone. But the Shadow still had his life left... even if it was a course of a handicapped. But perhaps he could retrieve something back. In his dark, soulless mind he hoped, hoped...
The robes hovered towards the rear part of the square. By passed stones that Yoka had once admired here, during her unfortunate hunting trip. At the last nook, where a primeval, colossal willow rustled, he bent down to touch a rock. A glove grazed a carved snake head...
A hollow clack. The tree burst out to live. A dark square appeared onto the massive trunk. The outline of an evident door. Shaded normally by the gray bark, it remained generally invisible. However now its masquerade was over and it would give way to its master. The new master of Nex Crucio's destroyed hideout.
The gate closed as hollowly as it had opened. The Shadow swept down a moldy staircase. Here and there, tree roots pierced the once so finely carved walls. Centipedes and other small insects crawled fast away to escape the rim of light. Those crippled children of the eternal night stood no lumen.
It had to be tens of meters under the earth, when the dark one stopped. Anteriorly was a stone door, nevertheless far much cleaner as the general tomb-like environment. Evidently it was used rather often. Also quite smoothly it glided aside when commanded, to reveal rooms and crypts of more space. But was not all this supposed to be destroyed...? Bombed, burned, annihilated to scrap? Perhaps they were only the coulisses... and the reality had stood elsewhere. Who is there to see beyond, if the eye cannot see? And even, even today the old layers upon the subterranean stone chambers allowed not to be penetrated by many common scanners. The secrets would remain... would they?
No footsteps clanged in the empty vaults. Dust flew out of the way in small clouds as the Shadow floated past. His eyes in the depths of his hood remained attached to one sealed side door for a moment. "That pathetic doctor. Could've healed me. I know he could have. But it was his poor choice not to obey me. Tried to escape... how pathetic. It was his choice to die. Oh well, not my problem any more. Probably that stupid blockhead's turned to bones and rags by now..."
No empathy, no emotion was in that gleaming regard. It stared at the closed room a moment, then shifted elsewhere. Half a year ago, the entrance to that chamber was firmly sealed up. Desperate yells had echoed from there a few days after that... then silence had fallen. The prisoner had withered away. What was behind that rock nowadays, could not bewail any longer.
After enough of wandering, the premises turned gradually ever cleaner. The forthcoming rooms definitely looked like as if someone had lodged there a good amount of time. There were tables and shelves with piles of every-day items on them; books, clothes, fast-food wrappers, unwashed dishes, and so on. Also, the lantern was futile here. Blearily aglowing little stones placed in small wall-niches lit the spaces just adequately. The man stopped to pull his robes away. A good suit they were, but not really coming in need here. This was his haven, and no one forbid him moving around as himself, in the comfy leisure attire he had stolen from Buzz' wardrobe.
"Let's see how the chick gets along... I'll keep her alive for a while still." The marauder picked up a package of potato chips with a water bottle from one shelf. "Possibly still unconscious. Well, it's her problem if she won't wake." The lantern was culled also back. Where he would go next, there the darkness reigned again.
A while passed, and the Shadow had hovered to a floor even lower. Regarding the chains in walls, the bars, and the heavily locked doors, this seemed to be an age-old prison. The air had turned even danker as it had been upper there. The smell of decaying matter and fungus was everywhere. One door at the end of a short side alley was his target. There was a thick set of bars, then an enclosed mural right behind it. However, as the system started sliding open, it could be seen that the claustrum was just one part of the well-reinforced entrance.
Astern of it, was a small cell with one habitant. The uneven walls glowed electric-blue phosphorescent light. On the dusty floor was sitting Yoka-hanen, hugging her knees. She stormed up as the wall began sliding aside. And even darker a storm blazed up in her eyes as she saw who came in. That man with that devilish grin... the schizoid side of Proud Crescent. Any more sure she could not be of anyone's identity. All it was such a blur... however, it appeared to be a fact that the male to whom she was given, was mentally sick. Like a dog she snarled at this evil creature. He had hit her with something, still the pain was stinging in her every limb. That flash of green light, then there had been the wrench. In this cubicle the girl had woken up only a while ago.
"Awake already?" the man sneered. He threw the food packages on the floor. "Fine. Eat. May be your last supper ever. Hehehehe."
This was the last drop for her. No tears appeared in her eyes in spite of the extreme rage her heart suddenly expressed. That quote had been a threat of killing her, had it not? Oh, how mild the promises had been yesterday... to end her suffering... end the suffering this way? That figure standing in front of her, its face, its voice, its expressions... just like the demon in Kaleva. Yet with tons of more maliciousness added to that. No, this was the line of her toleration.
One swing, jump, and a few powerful kicks. Out of the blue the villain was lying on the floor, his throat screeching an ear-splitting moan. Yoka had aimed a double-kick right underneath his knees to trip him, and a third one upper to crash down that peril completely. The doorway was open, what could hinder her from escaping?
Oh, the false optimism...
Recklessly she dashed into the blackness, as if being able to find a way out in a second. As a native Kalevan, her vision in dark was extremely good. But in a catacomb like this, it failed. Hardly even an owl could have found a getaway only with the aid of its eyes. But, the fear and hatred blinded. Shrouded sometimes the possibilities to grasp beyond the near seconds. Thus in the unfortunate haste, the lantern was forgotten.
Behind there, the Shadow had received back his pose. An unimaginable ache throbbed in his legs, but despite that, he picked up the light and plunged out.
"Darned woman! You'll pay for this!" he foamed like a rabid mongrel, "You can maybe hide a while, but I'll find you..."
Somewhere, deep in the murk, Yoka pushed herself flat against a cold wall, panting. What was this horrible place? A copy of Suur-Kaleva? Where the underground, buried houses sang their lores of death... and here, the mildewy stinking alleys had no exit?
...to be continued...