Shining among Darkness
By
WingzemonX
Chapter 43.
You were lucky this time
Esther was actually a few feet from the same exit they had entered when she spoke that last time to warn Lily. Their path had been relatively clear after losing sight of Matilda. They had only come across a beaten and stunned male nurse who tried to stop them, and Esther pushed them out of the way with three bullets to the abdomen. The man was still breathing, albeit with difficulty, lying on the ground while they walked away. Samara didn't even blink.
In fact, the girl with the long black hair had been too quiet. She made no attempt to stop or prevent Esther from taking her out. Instead, she just stared blankly at the ground as they advanced as if she wasn't even aware of where she was or where she was going. Esther didn't know if she was just in shock from what had happened recently, or maybe she was actually dragging a comatose zombie around that hospital. But she would worry about that later; for the moment, that bewildered state made things easier for her.
And even before she was practically walking through the door, all this had been relatively easy for Esther. Or, at least, more than how her journey at the Providence Medical Center in Portland had been, despite the number of people she had to shoot was higher. But, of course, back then, she didn't have Lily Sullivan's little sorceress on her side to watch her back. Maybe without that, everything would have been substantially more complicated. But then everything became a little less straightforward.
"Leena Klammer!" She heard someone yell loudly, echoing down the hall, and instinctively hearing her old name made her stop. "Police, drop your gun and put your hands up."
Esther was facing the door, so she couldn't see the handsome Philadelphia detective behind her, who was pointing at her with the gun he had just borrowed from Detective Vazquez. Even so, his words and how he had said them indicated without a doubt that he was indeed a policeman and certainly was aiming at her. That latter felt like a hot sting at the back of her head.
"Don't try anything, don't even take a step from where you are," Cole Sear demanded sharply, still keeping his distance before daring to move a little closer.
Esther quickly examined her options. Until that moment, she was still not sure whether or not she could survive a shot with her new and unusual nature, and she actually did not feel lucky enough to try it at the moment. She could bet he wouldn't shoot her or not fast enough before she did. But in that sense, he had the advantage; he had her right in his sights at the moment. And by his firm voice, Esther could tell that he had no doubt in having to do shot if necessary.
Additionally, he called Leena Klammer. He knew who she really was, so it was unlikely that she could use her role as an innocent child as a shield.
If she tried to pick up her radio again and talk to Lily, he was still likely to shoot her; at least one hand or one leg. And even if she managed to do it, how long would it take her happy accomplice to do something to help her from wherever she was?
The other alternative was the girl right next to her, who obviously had her abilities as well. But she was so self-absorbed (she hadn't even reacted to the abrupt presence of the cop) that it was unlikely she could convince her to do anything to help.
For all that reasons, Esther decided, for the moment, to do what the man asked and do some time while Lily got to that site and took care of that idiot with her unique abilities. Of course, if that damn brat did not decide to let her die and leave that place by herself.
Anyway, Esther dropped her weapon to the ground and raised both hands above her head. That had to cause at least a little confidence in that cop, and confident men made mistakes.
"Samara, come with me now," Cole said with commanding force in his voice, but the girl he was speaking to didn't respond. She didn't even raise her face as if she hadn't heard him. "Samara? What did you do to her?"
"Nothing, she wanted to go with me of her own free will," Esther answered simply, and Cole didn't believe her at all.
"Samara, it's me, Cole, Matilda's friend. Come to me; I'll protect you."
Samara still did not react at first. Then she slowly began to raise her gaze in his direction, and that reassured Cole a bit. However, this tranquility did not last long. Samara's expression seemed absent and lost as if she were sleepwalking, which gave Cole an awful feeling.
"I killed my mom," the girl murmured slowly. "I can't go back..."
"What are you saying?" Cole questioned, confused. "Listen, I don't know what there is for..."
And then the officer abruptly stopped speaking. At first, Esther did not understand what was happening. Still, after several seconds without hearing anything else, she slowly turned to look at him over her shoulder. And then she realized that not only he had stopped talking, but about everything else. He froze entirely in his place from one moment to the next, pointing his gun forward, but he no longer said anything or moved. His eyes no longer seemed to be looking at them or anything in particular.
"What happened?" Esther asked.
Samara did it? Or Lily, perhaps? Glancing at the one closest to her, she didn't think it was her first choice; Samara was just as stuck in her own head. And she didn't see Lily anywhere.
Esther didn't know what had happened, but she wouldn't stay to find out either. She took Samara by her hand, ran the half meter that separated them from the door, and threw it open. On the other side, however, she found a new apparent obstacle blocking their way. Standing a short distance from them was a tall, stocky dark-skinned man, with his long black hair tied in various braids and a goatee around his mouth. His expression was aggressive, making Esther flinch and even take a step back from the shock.
Esther had the urge to point her gun at him again, but in her haste, she had put it down as Cole had instructed. She looked back, trying to determine how fast she could move to reach it, but she didn't need to. That man passed them by, walking steadily on their left foot and then walking through the door. Then he bent down to pick up Esther's gun from the ground.
"Get out of here, now," he told them sharply without turning to see the girls.
"And who are you?" Esther snapped suspiciously.
"Move now!" He yelled at them almost furiously, glaring at them over his shoulder. "I'll take care of this guy."
Without further explanation, the mysterious man advanced toward Cole with the gun dangling to the side of his right thigh.
Esther did not understand but did not think to miss the opportunity with hesitation.
"As you say, handsome…."
She took Samara by her hand again and pulled her in the direction of where her truck lay hidden.
Once alone (although it was not like that had been a determining factor), James, Leena's mysterious savior, stood firm in front of Cole and stared at him for a few moments. The policeman's face remained frozen in time in a single expression of perplexity.
James knew it immediately: he was one of them, the kind he spent so many years hunting and feeding. And he was a very powerful one. James did not need the skills of his Mabel to feel it because it was enough for him to perceive how his mind struggled to free itself from the bond he was imposing on it.
James meditated a little on his possibilities. It would be a shame to waste such fantastic food, but he would not have enough time to get it out properly. He could feel that man fighting, and he was still relatively weak. Surely at any moment, he would be free. The most practical solution was to finish it quickly, devour as much steam as possible, and get out of there as soon as possible. It wasn't an ideal meal, but it was a meal.
As James thought about it all, he was unaware that there was someone else there, or rather something. He didn't see her, and perhaps Cole, in his state, wasn't able to fully process what his eyes were picking upon. But over James's left shoulder, the face of that being who had presented herself to Cole with the name of Gema loomed with the same appearance that she had shown at the beginning: brown hair a little disheveled, blue and serene eyes, and lips twisted into a pleased smile at what she saw. She was observing the detective, wanting to know how that exciting scene would end.
"I warned you, handsome," the woman-shaped being said with a playful tone, words that Cole surely heard but perhaps did not understand.
Without saying a word, James raised his arm, placing the gun right in front of Cole's face, with the tip of the silencer only inches from his left eye. And likewise, remaining silent, he thought to press the trigger. He would have done it without the slightest shame... if it were not for the fact that his finger, and his entire hand, did not respond to him. Despite all the effort he applied, he was not able to move his finger an inch.
"What…?" James exclaimed, totally lost, especially when his hand slowly began to turn until the barrel pointed directly at his own face, and all without him ordering it.
It wasn't possible. Was that man doing that? He looked at him again. The policeman's eyes had changed entirely; it wasn't his eyes.
"Don't even think about it," the man murmured, but the voice James heard in his head sounded different too; it sounded like a woman's voice.
Cole lowered his right hand with his weapon and waved his left quickly to the side. James's body rose from the ground and flew violently towards the wall. He collided with it and then fell to the ground; the gun had slipped from his hands in the process.
"Who are you…?" James exclaimed in a daze, trying to get up as fast as possible.
"I ask the questions here," the same authoritative woman's voice answered him. Cole extended his left hand back to him, and James fell as if two large hands had pushed him down from his shoulders. "Who do you work for? Tell me his name."
James looked down at him with unwavering harshness. There was no fear as such in him, but he was pretty uneasy at the question that had just been asked.
"If you were smart, you would hand the girls over to him and leave it at that. You don't know what that demon is capable of."
"You don't know what I'm capable of!" Cole yelled at him loudly, his voice echoing like a thousand echoes. James felt his body press against the wall as if a heavy boot was crushing against his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.
The one who used the policeman as a conduit must be another one of them, and even one more powerful than that individual. It was impressive; maybe they were as powerful as… that rube brat.
For a few moments, James felt that this would be the end of that long journey. If that woman didn't kill him, the damn kid who'd sent him on that mission would do it.
There was no regret in him about the idea of finally cycle and completely disappear from that world, as perhaps it should have happened to him five years ago. Except for one: Mabel. Who would take care of his Mabel? He knew well that the monster that had dragged them into all this would not. He would most use her, squeeze her to the last drop, and then get rid of her as he did to everything. That single idea caused him so much anger and frustration...
And speaking of the Devil, he looked out, or maybe he was always really watching.
"Why don't you show me what you're capable of?" His cunning voice echoed like a laugh, taking the woman inside Cole Sear's body by surprise.
At that moment, she felt as if someone had stood right behind her, put an arm around her neck, and squeezed him hard with it until she was almost suffocated. She also felt how he placed his face on one side of hers and whispered slowly in her ear:
"Ready for Round 2, ma'am?"
And then, she was violently pulled back, forcibly ripped from Cole's body, and disappearing into the shadows.
The pressure on James's chest lifted, and he was finally able to breathe normally. However, at that moment, he had another one of those sudden coughing attacks that made him double over on the ground.
For his part, Cole's legs buckled, and the officer fell to his knees. He had to drop the pistol to use both hands to avoid falling headlong, sensing that he might not be able to get back up if that happened. He felt quite dizzy and confused. It seemed to him that he had seen and heard everything that was happening, but he was unsure. Everything was like spontaneous flashes in his memory, like fragments of a dream. But something was quite clear to him: the identity of who had intervened.
"Eleven?" He murmured aloud as if hoping that somehow the voice of his former mentor would answer him, either in his ears or in his head. Neither thing happened.
Cole was not entirely aware of James's presence right in front of him for a few moments. Not until he noticed out of the corner of his eye as he suddenly reached out with his right hand to reach for the pistol Cole had dropped. The detective reacted, grabbing his wrist firmly to avoid it, and then reached out to hit the gun and make it slide sideways across the ground. He pulled James's hand aside and immediately grabbed him by his clothes, lifted him just a little, and then landed a strong punch straight to his face. James crashed into the wall again and then fell to the floor.
The Philadelphia officer tried to stand up again to regain ground, but James managed to sweep his feet mid-attempt, and Cole fell flat on his face to the ground. James crawled weakly and still with occasional outbursts of coughing toward the pistol. Cole grabbed hold of his ankle to stop him and quickly got on top of him, turned him toward him, and hit him two more times on the ground. By the third blow, James managed to grab him firmly by the wrist to stop him, and then both men began to struggle with each other, showing off their physical strength.
James managed to kick Cole straight in the face and throw him away from him. His intention was to return to the weapon. Still, another coughing fit came to him, much stronger than the previous ones, which immobilized him. He lifted his sleeve a little to take a look at his forearm; those damn reddish spots again.
Cole was sitting up again. James used what little strength he had left to create one more mooring, even a small one. He concentrated, focused, and then thrust his entire being into his current opponent. Cole felt his whole body stop responding to him, and everything went black once more. His attempt to get up was left to it, as he fell to the floor sitting down, his head falling forward. When he managed to react again minutes later, not a second would have passed for him. And again, he would have isolated flashes that would want to indicate that it was not like that. But for the moment, he was totally out of the picture.
James fell exhausted to the floor, holding his abdomen and coughing so hard that some saliva dripped from his mouth, creating a small puddle with it. He had forgotten to put in a third factor that could kill him: that damn measles, or whatever it was that was consuming him.
He struggled to get up and staggered out of the asylum to his truck, and after away from that place before the police found out about all this and cordoned off the road.
While all that combat was going on, Gema observed them, waiting for some exciting twist to take place, but it all ended up a bit boring for her taste. When James walked out the door, that being calmly approached Cole, squatting in front of him to look closely at his perplexed and frozen face that resembled a corpse. He looked even more handsome that way. Gema smiled widely, but her expression did not reflect happiness or any emotion that could reach something similar.
"You were lucky this time," she whispered, trying to imitate a certain sweetness in her voice while one hand caressed Cole's cheek. She approached his right ear then, whispering subtly to it. "But that bitch won't be able to protect you anymore. You should have listened to your mommy when you could, handsome. Now it is late; he won't let you go anymore. I'm sorry."
Then she leaned into her cheek, giving him a quick little kiss on it.
"Until next time…"
Gema stood up, and before she fully straightened, her figure simply vanished.
A couple of minutes later, Lily Sullivan would walk by that same hall. She would see Cole lying on the floor, but she would not pay much attention to him. The girl would suppose it would be another one of the victims of the beautiful chaos she had caused. She would go out through the same door and meet her traveling companions without significant mishaps.
Eleven had been in a trance for a few minutes now. She had sat firmly in the armchair in her study, with her eye shields and headphones to isolate the sound to have the greatest possible concentration. Mike, meanwhile, watched her silently from a chair set to one side of the couch. He had been opposed to her doing it at first, but his wife could be quite stubborn when she wanted to. She was absolutely sure that something horrible was happening where Matilda, Cole, and Cody were, and she couldn't leave them alone.
Mike wanted to stay close anyway, with the perhaps absurd idea that he might do something to bring her back if something happened. And even though he couldn't really do something, he felt calmer being there than going to another room.
Nothing seemed to happen at first, but most of the time, it did. For a few minutes, Jane just sat there, quiet and motionless. Mike always imagined that this must be like trying to fly through space, looking for the person she wanted to see among a sea of stars. Eleven had told him it wasn't precisely fly, but it had always been difficult for her to describe it.
Jane's breath hitched a little suddenly. Her hands tensed on the upholstery of the chair, and she leaned her body slightly toward the brake as if she were beginning to exert herself. Seeing this, Mike stood up by instinct and was tempted to call out to her but held back.
"Don't even think about it," Jane suddenly said in an aggressive tone, and for a second, Mike thought she was saying it to him, but then he realized she wasn't; she wasn't even there at the time.
Things in the room began to shake a bit: the coffee table, what was on the desk, the windows overlooking the garden; everything as if a small earthquake was occurring.
"I ask the questions here," Eleven murmured again, much the same as she had before. "Who do you work for? Tell me his name."
Mike wondered who exactly she was questioning. Could all of this have to do with the concerns she shared with him just a moment ago?
"Mom, Dad," Mike heard a familiar little voice say from the door, and a second later, the door opened.
Mike hurried over to it to prevent it from opening all the way. He stood firm in the small opening that had been created and looked through it at his daughter Terry, with Babylon at his feet also looking at him.
"Not now, Terry," Mike murmured slowly, getting in the way as if he didn't want her to look inside. "Your mother is projecting; we can't interrupt her."
"Projecting?" The sixteen-year-old muttered in perplexity and instinctively tried to look past her father into the study. "Right now? Something happened?"
"Nothing happened," he replied, although he wasn't really sure of the truth of that statement. "Go to your room. We must not..."
"You don't know what I'm capable of!" Jane screamed loudly from her seat, and the whole room shook again.
Terry was startled, a little surprised by such a scream.
"What's going on? Didn't she need our help?"
"Terry, your mother knows what she's doing. We should trust her, okay?"
Then he placed a hand behind his daughter's head and leaned forward to give her a quick kiss on her forehead. "Now go to your room. As soon as she finishes, I will call you."
"Okay," Terry replied, obviously not convinced.
The girl prepared to obey and head down the hall to her room, and Babylon seemed ready to do so anyway. However, at the last moment, the husky seemed to regret it. He stopped, turned back to the study door, and then began to growl fiercely.
Mike and Terry looked at him, confused.
"What is it, Babylon?" Terry asked worriedly. She crouched down beside him, trying to calm him down, but the animal actually looked more and more tense.
It was then that they both heard Eleven let out a loud scream of pain. Mike turned quickly to her, releasing the door. Eleven had pressed herself entirely against the back of the chair and had her head thrown back; more of those same screams came out of her mouth without qualms. She raised her hands desperately, practically trying to rip off her eye shield and earphones. She did, tossing them to the ground to push them away from her, but she was not reassured.
"El!" Mike exclaimed, full of anguish, going towards her; Terry followed behind.
"Do not approach…!" Eleven managed to yell, raising a hand to them at that moment. All three, including Babylon, were pushed back to keep their distance.
Eleven remained in her seat, her fingers gripping the chair as if her nails were going to pierce through the tapestry. Her gaze was fixed on the glass doors in front of her, her pupils fully dilated. Her body continued to tremble, but little by little, everything calmed down, including her breathing, until she was apparently calm, with her body more relaxed. However, some blood trickled down her nose through her right nostril, reaching her lips.
She turned her face slowly towards her husband, although he was unsure if she was really looking at him.
"Mike…" Eleven whispered weakly, almost as if talking hurt.
"El?" Mike muttered with reservations, approaching him carefully. "What happened…?"
Before he could get completely close to her, Eleven's body abruptly bent back and a scream even more heartrending than the previous one escaped from her, and the whole house was suddenly shaken like in the grip of a strong earthquake; even Mike fell to the carpet, unable to balance himself from the shaking.
Terry, for her part, had butted herself against the wall next to the door, holding on to keep from falling as well. Babylon was growling aggressively, though it was actually more fearful, in Eleven's direction. But he wasn't growling at her. His father surely did not see it, and Babylon could only feel it. Still, Terry could see it; she clearly saw that boy with black hair and a suit, right behind her mother, around her neck with his right arm, which was pressing hard, and she was unable to get rid of him.
"Mike, that's his name, huh?" The man muttered maliciously close to Eleven's ear, glancing at the man on the ground. "After all that you tried to keep me away from here the first time, and look now: you brought me right to your house, with your cute family."
Eleven was in shock. He had caught her totally off guard at the time; she hadn't even realized when he had dragged her to that point.
It was him; she didn't need to see him to confirm it. He was the same boy from the other time, and he had her ultimately at his mercy. She was not able to move or do anything else. She had never felt such a level of invasion in her person; she had never felt so helpless in her entire life.
"Mike… Terry…" she managed to pronounce weakly. "Get out of here, run..."
"And do you really think there's somewhere they can hide from me?" He exclaimed with marked sarcasm in his voice. "You must have stayed on the sidelines, ma'am. I don't lose twice in the same game..."
"Who are you?" Terry questioned sharply at once, drawing everyone's attention, including the strange intruder.
"Terry, who are you talking to?" Asked her father, who was trying to stand up; indeed, he did not see it.
The mysterious attacker smiled in amusement.
"Ah, she can see me. Is she like you?" Then he ran the fingers of his other hand playfully through the curls on Eleven's head. "I should also pay her a visit after I finish with you. But this time in person. Or even better, I have a couple of friends who would love it if I gave her to them as a gift. They would put her to good use..."
"Don't even put the finger on her, you bastard," Eleven snapped with such pent-up anger that her words were trying too hard to get out. "I swear I'm going to..."
"You're going to what? Huh?" The boy ironed, pressing his fingers against her head tightly. "In case you haven't realized it, you are in no position to threaten anyone. And you will never be again..."
Suddenly, the boy's fingers were pressed so hard against Eleven's temple, and they seemed to begin to sink into her skin little by little. But it was not as if it were opening, but rather as if the intruder's fingers were beginning to merge with Eleven's head. Whatever it was, Eleven started to feel tremendous, horrible pain.
"Aaaaah!" She screamed with great force, writhing in her place but not managing to free herself from that mental hold in which she was held.
More blood began to flow from her nose… much more blood.
"No! Leave her!" Terry yelled at him defiantly, taking a step toward him that didn't really share that sentiment.
"Terry," her father called, but she didn't hear him.
"Leave my mom!" Terry screamed with great force, and his scream echoed like lightning.
The whole room shook more violently in response to her scream, and everything except the chair her mother was sitting on flew off in different directions. The glass doors smashed, and pieces of glass flew into the garden. And most importantly, that individual's astral image also seemed to be violently pushed along with everything else.
The lights jingled three times, then went off completely, not just in that room but apparently throughout the house.
Everything fell silent right after. Mike looked at his daughter warily; she was still staring at where her target had been standing just moments ago, her breathing as heavy as if she had just finished a race. He then looked at his wife. Jane Wheeler was sitting in the same place, her eyes wide, staring at the doors now with no glass in them.
"Jane?" Mike muttered but received no response.
And a few seconds after Mike looked at her, Eleven's body slowly tilted to the side until she fell sideways on the couch, and then she rolled to the floor. She lay face-up on the carpet, her eyes still wide open, but no sound or movement whatsoever.
"Jane!"
Mike crossed the distance that separated her from his wife in less than a second and crouched down beside her, quickly taking her in his arms.
"Oh, God, El, darling…" He repeated, full of anguish and on the verge of tears. Her eyes weren't looking at him; they were looking at absolutely nothing. But she was still breathing, though very weak, barely noticeable. "Terry! Call an ambulance! Quickly!"
Only then was Terry pulled out of her deep tranny. Looking at her mother in that state in her father's arms, she felt paralyzed for a few moments. Still, she forced her legs to move as quickly as possible, and then she left the study with Babylon in search of her cell phone.
"Jane, please answer me, wake up…" Mike continued insisting, shaking her a little and patting her cheek, but nothing worked. Eleven gave no sign of consciousness. And his breathing, which was already scarce before, was gradually beginning to fade...
END OF CHAPTER 43
Author's Notes:
—Terry Wheeler is an original character of my creation. Still, it is created based on the context of the Stranger Things series.
After a long time, I bring you this translated chapter, coinciding with this Halloween day. I hope you like it. In the Spanish version, we are already in Chapter 105, so there is still a lot to tell.