Xiaolin Showdown does not belong to me.
Dedicated to Nasyki Ikysan because she gave me the spark to complete the update.
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Still sunny and clear; still a perfect day for a picnic and for succulent ripened watermelon juice dripping down one's chin and frolicking about. It should be cloudy and ugly and rainy for it would suit this miserable situation far better. Howly winds and shuddering trees and plopping rain would cover the ugly ungraceful sounds of uncouth curses.
Curses sprouted viciously from the wind child's throat. He was livid. Tired. Confused. And the unconscious weight that was balanced precariously in his arms only complicated matters.
"What is mine stays mine."
"Damn. Damn. Damn him."
Sunny sun burned in his back and salty sweat dripped down on his flushed face and sticky spine. Why did I forget to bring the Golden Tiger Claws? Why?
Curses flew from his chapped dry mouth once more, but that was to end soon for the temple was just up ahead. Finally! He could finally rest his aching tired body. The body that sought warmth in caves and cold water in lakes in the days that had passed. His mental state needed rest as well for he worried about the child who does not wake from his sudden collapse.
"Raimundo?"
His drooping eyes rested on the flabbergasted girl monk, who was currently eating a simple sandwich. It looked tasty despite its half-eaten state…but no time to eat now. "Kimiko, take him…"
Kimiko's bewildered gaze shifted from the bedraggled form to the limp form in the wind dragon's arms. A wee little body clothed in a finely made robe. Exquisite and shimmering forest-green tone. What the…? She blinked, her mind trying to process this rather weird scene.
She squealed in surprise. And screamed in terrible joy.
"Omi! Omi's back! You did it!"
Raimundo's arrival did not bring any on-lookers, but Kimiko's shouts of joyful bliss and utter relief brought three distinctive bodies to the stone entrance.
"Kimiko? What is…Omi! Raimundo!" the blond earth youth practically shouted. He, too, rejoiced and fussed, but he questioned as well. Questions that needed to be answered. Raimundo was sweaty and icky and bruise-stained; Omi was unconscious, but magnificently dressed and had slight lesions. Also, despite the fact that Omi had strange coloured skin, his complexion was healthy whilst Raimundo was wan-faced. They were a strange suspicious pair indeed.
"Perhaps it is best that we allow Raimundo to rest and tend to Omi's health…" was sane suggestion.
Dragons of fire and earth faltered in their worrying and fretting. Hues of red flourished on their cheeks and they apologized most profoundly; they were just confused, skittish, and afraid and frankly, they did not know what to do.
Something like this has never happened to them. Nothing of this magnitude. They were young. They were just kids.
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Cat's Cradle. It was game. Mortal children played it. It seems like an interesting game, but alas, he was far too old for it.
But…he smiled deviously…that does not mean that he cannot create and play his own game.
His own 'cat's cradle'. A trap cat's cradle.
Once nightfall falls, though…
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Raimundo was a mere lump in the bristly blue blankets; a lump that slept and groaned and slept some more. He refused to greet the days that peeked and passed through the window. He was far too tired to emerge from his cozy cocoon. His scanty injuries had mended and his mind's drain was rejuvenated, but to greet the day?...no, not yet, too tired was he.
But fate hated him. "Raimundo?"
His droopy eyes peered out over the blanket's edge. "Whatcha want?"
The girl bit her lip. "It's been a week already; you have to come out…"
Said person groaned and flopped over on his stomach. "Go away, I am tired."
"No!" she fumed, hesitation forgotten. "You're pale! You need sunlight and food. Kimiko's child-girl hands clutched at the blanket to yank it away.
Raimundo, mussed-up hair and sleepy eyes, yelped, but he sat up nonetheless. He yawned. "How's Omi?"
"Better then you. He woke up two days ago and he's up and training like always," Kimiko said.
"Pssh, seriously?"
The fire dragon nodded. "You should too."
Raimundo stretched and yawned again. "Fine…" He ambled slowly towards the door.
Kimiko's hand snaked out to grasp his wrist. "Raimundo? What exactly happened? To you and Omi…?"
Green eyes glanced at the only female monk. "Mmm?"
She bit her lip and fluttered her hands, searching for words that would make sense. "Omi won't talk. He looks happy and 'carefree', but…he was unconscious, for Pete's sake! And wearing clothes that weren't his!"
"And?..."
"And! You were hurt! How you say that so carelessly?" she hissed in furious quivering tones.
He sighed and gathered the girl to him. "Not yet. You'll know, but not yet."
Kimiko sighed as well and breathed in his sweat tinged scent. "Fine. Sure. Whatever you say."
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Omi was a ferret; a twitching avoiding-danger ferret…an escaping frightened ferret. The ferret made it clear; clear about not wanting to speak to him.
He smiled his sun-shiny smile and laughed his self-confident laugh with Kimiko, Clay and Dojo. Though, once his eyes caught sight of mussed-up brown hair and green eyes, he blanched and excused himself hastily. And Raimundo was left with his mouth open.
Well, not anymore. "Omi!"
Raimundo walked slowly towards him with uttermost caution; sort of like how one would do to a scared animal. "Talk."
"No."
The wind dragon edged closer. "Talk."
"No."
Closer. "Talk"
The little boy monk apparently was weary of his demanding tone and decided to run for it. And run he did, but Raimundo was nimbly quick, too. He tackled the fleeing boy and together they tumbled together on the hard scraping ground.
"Stupid," Raimundo muttered once the child was restrained. "Why are you avoiding me?"
Omi fidgeted, his eyes flitting everywhere. "Because when I see you, I see Wuya."
So he knows…
He clasped the small monk to him with an awkward-with-male-persona arm. "Eh, that's all in the past. Gone with the wind," he said with an up and down motion of his arm.
The strangely-coloured boy managed a small frown-smile. "When you see me…who do you see?"
"Omi."
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Hehe, he sees Omi, he says. What a blatant lie! What a clever liar that boy is!
But he knows Omi is not well. He does see the tendrils of his dragon-scented aura on the child. Clinging to the boy's hands, waist, throat and mouth. And still he lies. And watches the noose grow tighter around the child's scrawny neck.
Night falls. Let the game begin.
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Indeed what the man said is true. It was night-time in which everyone was fast asleep in their own modest cots and dreaming of sugarplums and such.
A night where nobody would see the shadows curling and twisting on the wooden walls. They would not see shadows sneakingly snaking their smoky-icky tendrils towards a lump on a cot.
"Child…wakey…wakey..."
The child mentioned did not stir; his eyes still closed in blissful sleep and unaware of the creepy shadows.
Some of the shadow-tendrils wrapped around the infant-frail neck and squeezed ever so slightly. Matter of time now…
With the mounting lack of air, he awoke with struggling panicking gasps. He struggled and flailed and air-gasped despite his addled mind.
The tendrils loosened…only to wrap around the pudgy-ish waist.
"Child…awake…miss…him…
"What…?" He sleepily tussled against the seemingly fragile bonds.
"Miss him…"
They parted their muddy-dark bodies to give him a better view.
Icky-like-darkness hair. Wicked glowing fathomless eyes; pools of creepy nothingness, but they seemed to know and understand everything. And then naught…no hands, no mouth and nor a distinguishable body. A transparent icky shadow that is neither real nor fake. Just a blob on the wall, a blob in his room and a blob in his eyes.
Even though it was hardly a figure and hardly had a face, it blatantly frightened the boy and he quivered and quaked. And shook and shaked.
The shadow, oozing shades and fog, merely swayed to and fro as the other bodies of smoke reached out to grab the still-sleepy child's waist. They raised him from his warm little bed and the child did not utter a sound. He was sleepy and pliant. The smoke that they oozed sneakily dozed him to a near slumber. An aware sleep that was evident in his glazed-over eyes.
The ominous blob-shadow solidified to a tangible state and stretched out its now-real tendrils to pluck the unripe child-fruit from the other hazy vague shades.
An icky sticky with black-slippery-residue mouth ripped out from its shadowy face and it spoke in stuttered and distant sounding speech.
"Hello…little one…miss…me?"
The child did not struggle in its grasp and his head lolled in induced sleepiness. "No…" he spoke monotonously. "Cold…"
The monster-shadow let loose a raspy laugh. "Of course…you're...always cold…cold as ice-water…you lack…"
The boy shook his head in slow denial. "Friends…"
"Friends…you want more…I can…give you…more…"
Again, the child denied all and quick as snap, he fell completely asleep. The shade-thing now held a more docile child whose chest rose slowly with blissful sleep. It handed him over to the other shadows; it did not need a sleeping child.
"You do want more…and you will come…to me…"
Its minion-shades laid the boy to bed and withdrew their smoky vapors from his room. One by one, they mockingly kissed him good-bye and petted his large head. Then lastly of all, the leader-shade slithered down to hover beside the little wooden cot. It also mockingly laid a kiss, but on his non-responding mouth and patted his child-round cheek in pseudo affection.
"Eventually…you will come…"
The shadows faded in color and faded in existence whilst keeping their 'gaze' on the snoozing child.
"Bye…bye…"
Shade, last to fade, smiled sarcastically and stared with bottomless eyes. It continued to smile slyly as time erased its borrowed existence.
"Child…destined…for evil…you understand naught…"
The little one's mouth drooped into a frown and he shuddered unwillingly. The coldness and scariness of the darkness had embedded itself in his subconscious mind. He gasped slightly and shook beneath the blankets as he felt the monster-shadow touch his cheek once more.
"Farewell…for now…"
In a foggy fading echo, the creepy shadow vanished and the quiet and unnerving darkness gave way to the safe little night. The boy relaxed and sighed as the hold on his mind disappeared. He slept now; peaceful and safe without the obsessive darkness breathing down his neck.
He dreamed of nice sunny days that were spent in training. He dreamed of smiling faces and laughing eyes that surrounded him. He dreamed of being powerful and tall. He dreamed of peace and warm summer nights and celebrating lights. He dreamed of warm hands and hugs which warmed his cold body. He dreamed of niceness and cuteness and prettiness.
He did not dream of shadowy figures swarming around him. He did not dream of smirking smiles and mocking eyes. He did not dream of touches that chilled and warmed his body. He did not dream of a lone sweaty figure hovering over his limp body. He did not dream of a voice telling him to wake up. He did not dream of darkness and emptiness and greediness.
All was peaceful in his dreams, but in his mind and soul, a battle raged; a battle between his strongest deadliest desires and his calmest most peaceful wishes. That is exactly what the shadow-monster thing wanted. The mind and soul is truly a troubling and confusing thing.
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About Whispers, I thought aboutmaking thesequel, but then it really did not make any sense when I mulled over it. I thought that Whispers and the sequel would have different sounds and feel to it...and it does, but it sounds better when its together, hence continuing Whispers.