Fall into Darkness
Chapter 2: Amnesia
Awaking from a dream state was one thing. Awakening from a dream to find yourself in a speeding vehicle while not knowing how to operate said vehicle was another. The outcome of said situation was swift and violent. A shock went through Bellatrix' body and it took her a moment to come to her senses. When the fog in her head lifted once more, she found herself in an overturned car at the side of the road while the damaged horn let out the perpetual death rattle of a once proud automobile.
At least she had used her seatbelt, that was a small mercy.
Hermione.
There was no time for all of this. She had to find Hermione.
Of course, there was the little problem of her hanging upside down at the moment. Bellatrix struggled to release herself from her trapped state. As soon as she unclasped the belt, she yelped as she rather unceremoniously fell down into a crumpled heap. It took her a few moments to muster the will to crawl out of the car through the now broken windshield, hissing as small shards of glass pushed into her skin.
Two hands reached for the side of the car as she somehow managed to raise herself and leaned into the wreck. Her entire body ached, her head throbbed and she could taste blood in her mouth, but there didn't seem to be any broken bones. Bellatrix closed her eyes: the adrenalin was still coarsing through her veins, but the moment that would stop the pain would come crashing down upon her.
The dark witch pressed two fingers against her temples and concentrated. Soft healing magic flowed from her fingers through her head and eased the pain somewhat. Without a wand, such healing cantrips was all she could do. Bellatrix stood, a bit wobbly, and started to survey her surroundings.
It was the dead of night and she was stood in the middle of nowhere on a road, surrounded by rocky terrain and thick forest. She had no idea where she was or even which direction she had come from. The sorry state of Hermione beloved Toyota Sienna meant she was not getting out of here by using it, even if could drive the damn thing.
Merlin, Hermione was going to be so angry about her now wrecked car. Her girl had loved that car. It'd been her first purchase since moving to the States and to her it symbolised a piece of independence. She would wash it every Sunday, regular as clockwork. Still, none of that would matter if she wouldn't be found.
Now all that was left was to follow the road, she supposed. It took a few moments for her brain to register that the direction of the car was her biggest clue. For some reason she could no longer remember, she was headed towards the direction the nose of the car pointed to. Though she did not know why, exactly, she deduced that she must have been going there for some sort of reason. In whatever state Bellatrix had been, Hermione was always her priority. So rather than where she came from, she would indeed go forward and follow the road further. By foot, of course.
Bellatrix hissed as she shifted her weight to walk. Her body was protesting as hard as it could as she put one foot in front of the other. Hobbling and shuffling over the asphalt, she had no idea where she was going, but only knew that Hermione was not here or back the way she came from.
Forward. Only way was forward.
One foot.
In front of the other.
Staggering and shuffling over the asphalt, she was nary a few feet away from the car when she was about to collapse to her knees. Her head throbbed again as a tremor went through her broken body. She lashed out and managed to stead herself against something. Warm liquid slowly ran down the side of her face; she must have hit her head harder than she'd realized. Having been in two wars, Bellatrix was no stranger to injury and she knew she was in a bad state. Critical injuries weren't always apparent immediately and she could very well be suffering from internal bleeding.
Again she applied two fingers to her blooded temple and let the soothing healing magic flow through her. The pain subsided somewhat, but the haze in front her eyes never left her. It took her a few moments to realize that she was stood right underneath a muggle street light and had steaded herself against its pole. Her faculties started to return somewhat, even though she still felt rather dizzy.
Bellatrix spat on the floor, the liquid red with blood underneath the light. Infernal muggles and their damn machines! She should have insisted on travelling safer! What the bloody hell was wrong with travelling by broom?! Witches had been travelling by broom for centuries! It was the safest way to travel!
Well, no use crying over spilt blood or crashed cars. She had to keep moving.
Stopping ever so often to put her fingers to her temple to give herself another dose of soothing heals, Bellatrix was starting to make progress along the winding road leaving the crashed car far behind. Dark forests loomed on either side of the road, thick and uninviting. Bellatrix hissed as her leg protested against a certain movement and applied another dose of healing. She stopped for a moment and regarded the forest.
Odd. In the past, she had hidden out in the forest with fellow Death Eaters on multiple occassions. Forests could be surprisingly noisy, especially at night. Birds, insects, rustling of leaves in the wind, the boughing of branches… Yet here? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. That in itself was unsettling enough, but it seemed as if her own footsteps weren't making all that much noise either. Noise… absorbed by the sheer nothingness around her. Not that that would stop a determined witch like her. All she had to do was follow the road and follow the road she did. Following the road quickly become moving from streetlight to streetlight. The light was soothing and welcoming, but whenever she was in the dark, it felt as if it was harder to move and even breathe.
Bellatrix stopped at the next streetlight, past a bend in the road. In front of her was the view of a valley below and the tree-dotted mountains beyond. Thicker forests were by the sides and, best yet, there seemed to be a petrol station much further along the road, down in the valley. Now, she had learned from Hermione that petrol stations were always open late at night so that muggles could feed their cars every hour of the day. Good. She could go there, get her bearings and maybe even something to drink. Merlin, the moment she thought of something to drink, she felt how parched her throat was. That in itself was not a good sight.
Asking muggles for help. A small part of her was still disgusted by the very thought.
But the faster she could get back to that bloody lake, the quicker she could find Hermione.
Wait… the lake? Why… the lake? She tried so hard to think, to remember, but every time she tried she felt the memories slipping away further. There… was something she was supposed to do. Something she was supposed to get. Something vital. But… she couldn't remember why or what or how. All she knew was that Hermione's life depended on it… somehow. That would be enough reason for her to go on.
Looking back to the road, she saw that it unfortunately wound down along the mountain's side, through the valley and arced towards a bridge over the river below before arcing back towards the petrol station. That would be a rather long walk on a mostly sloped terrain. Her battered body already screamed in protest at the very sight of it. No, she had to weigh her options and took another look.
One of the street lights barely illuminated a dirt path leading to a ridge containing more muggle buildings she couldn't quite make out the purpose of. She did however make out that this set of buildings was much closer to the petrol station. Perhaps she could cut through that site and save herself some walking. And so she took the fateful decision to cut through the forest to avoid winding road.
Bellatrix quickly found that the forest was far from welcoming. The oppressive darkness engulfed her and unlike the road didn't offer any safe havens in the from of lampposts. The path itself seemed to be fairly recent and as such didn't offer much in the from of a flat surface. The way she was dragging her feet almost tripped her up on more than one ocassion. Bellatrix swore under her breath as she caught her leg against the underbrush as she glanced around for shadows in the forests. Shadows which appeared from the corner of her eyes, but disappeared the moment she turned her head to look.
If she didn't know any better, Bellatrix could have sworn she was being herded.
She stopped for a moment to apply more healing and was pondering her decision to go into the forest, when she came upon the buildings she had seen on the ridge. Apparently, it was a muggle logging camp. Beyond a chainlink fence lay stacks and stacks of cut down logs and sawn planks ready for shipment. Dotted in between the stacks were muggle machines, like the muggle cars but with wheels as tall as her and weird portusions in the front. How did Hermione call this things? Ah, yes, bulldozers. Did muggles use these to move the logs, perhaps? The buildings of the sawmill lay further beyond, as did a wooden building on stilts near the edge of the ridge. There was apparently a light on in there. Hm, a night watchman, perhaps? Bellatrix thought for a moment, through the haze of pain and headache: better get her story straight. Yes. An accident would explain everything neatly and, honestly, it was very close to the truth.
The chainlink fence surrounding the logging camp posed little obstacle to her. Unlocking a non-magical lock was a simple cantrip. With one motion of her fingers, the padlock and chain keeping the entrance closed fell to the ground and it was a small matter of pushing the gate inward. Bellatrix staggered into the logging camp and quickly leaned against one of the stacks of planks to apply another dose of healing magics. So far, all it was doing was dull pain and stem bleedings, but the cantrip was simple enough that she could keep this up for a fair bit longer if she had to.
Bellatrix grimaced as the dull ache in her skull was soothed by healing magics.
Noise.
Noise?
It was the first sound she had heard since entering the forest and seemed to be of such a magnitude that she might have been standing right next to a ringing church bell. It took her a moment to place it, but she quickly came to the conclusion that someone was doing some late-night chopping. Now, chopping wouldn't seem out of place at a logging camp, but it was certainly the wrong time of day for it. Something about this raised her hackles something fierce. Bellatrix pressed her back against a stack of logs and slowly inched her way toward the sound, keeping to the shadows.
Chop.
Chop.
Chop.
There was an uneasy rhythm to it. She couldn't quite place it at first, but the sound was… off. It wasn't until she got a little closer to the source of the noise that she figured out why: wood being chopped usually wouldn't make a squelching noise on impact. When she peeked around the corner, her eyes grew wide.
She had found the night watchman, alright.
Prone, one the ground, bloodied like a rare steak as another man with his back turned to her brought his axe down upon his broken body again and again and again.
Though she made no sound, though there should be no way she could have been seen, the man was aware that she was watching.
The man turned to face her. His face was covered in shadows. Living, writhing shadows. It was hard to make him out in the darkness of the forest that surrounded them, but the axe he lifted was plain to see. Dripping with the blood of his victim. He grinned madly. The shadows were alive, distorting his features. Bellatrix hissed again. It was impossible to focus on it, as if it stood in a blind spot cause by an eye disease. This man, creature, whatever is was, was bleeding shadows like ink underwater, like a cloud of blood from a shark bite.
Beneath the writhing shadows was a blue overall sporting the name 'Stucky'. Two pinpricks of eyes even darker than the rest of his shadow-infused skin focused upon her as the axe was raised to his side. A distorted voice sounded. "24 hour service, lowest prices. Diesel, regular, premium UNLEADED! UNLEADED!"
The words were spoken as if whatever this thing was had no idea what they actually meant and was just reciting a few phrases from memory. But, she was acutely aware that a bloke whom had already murdered one person with an axe was now focused upon her. Bellatrix tensed up, forced away all feelings of pain and readied herself for a fight to the death as the shadow-man took a menacing step towards her… and then dashed off to the side to climb up one of the stacks as if he was a giant cockroach.
The unnatural speed with which he had ran and climbed was beyond startling, just as the sound of his distorted voice rang from all directions.
"Open all night. OPEN all night. OPEN ALL NIGHT!"
Surrounded by stacks and having no clear direction from the voice, Bellatrix realized that she was at a distinct disadvantage. Her brain working overtime, she remembered the other building, the one with the light on. Ignoring her body's stark protests against her sudden sprint, Bellatrix rushed towards it and caught sight of the shadow-man wildly jumping from one stack to the other over her head.
She almost jumped through the open door of the logging camp's office, turned around and waved her hand. The door slammed shut and the magic from her fingers caused a set of shelving to slam against it just as a bloodied axe split into the wood of the door. The dark witch wasn't phased, she didn't have time to be, but weighed her options. A quick wave of the hand revealed that the man was not under a spell. No, there was no magic in the air at all. Curious.
Okay. Wooden building. Rectangular. Many windows. Two doors on either side. Not the most secure spot: if the man wanted in, it was only a matter of time. For now he seemed focused on the door, but that wouldn't last. She looked around for anything she could use as a weapon, but found nothing. For now so she figured she should make her escape from the other door.
Or she would have done so if there hadn't been a rumbling from outside. The next thing she knew, the office shook and lay slanted while Bellatrix rolled to the ground from the sudden motion, pain shooting through her body. One of the muggle machines outside had come to life!
Quick as she could, Bellatrix threw herself through the opposite door to land unto the dirt, When she turned around, she could just see the muggle-machine dragging the office over the side of the rocks and into the gorge below.
Quiet.
All was quiet except for her heaving breath.
Dear Merlin, she needed that healing touch more than ever now as she scrambled to her feet. Indeed, the office had been dragged down, but she wasn't foolish enough to believe the shadow-man was gone or had given up. No, she needed to continue towards the petrol station and she needed to do so quickly.
Unfortunately, that meant going further into the dark forest, the last place she wanted to be right now.
Leaving the logging camp behind, she followed the ridge through the oppressive darkness. It seemed to be an entity of its own. Beckoning. Luring. Mocking. A devourer of light and sound alike. Worse yet, it seemed… familiar. Bellatrix had dealt with it before. But how? When? Why?
Hermione.
Where was Hermione?!
Why couldn't she remember?!
Further along the ridge, there was something she hadn't seen from her vantage point: a stream cut the ridge in half as water poured towards the river below. Bellatrix cursed under her breath: normally she wouldn't be concerned with getting her feet wet, but the water looked cold, wild and unpredictable, especially since it was so dark she couldn't gauge the depth. Fortunately, there was a conveniently placed log serving as a make-shift bridge. Apparently, said log had been fastened on either side.
So, she crossed, being careful to keep her balance. But as she crossed the stream, something uncoiled herself in her brain.
Hermione.
Darkness.
Pain.
She didn't even want to look at the water.
"DIESEL! UNLEADED! OPEN ALL NIGHT!" sounded from further in the distance. Hah, she should have known the creature wouldn't give up.
Well, neither would she.
Pushing forward, she found more machines, more stacks of planks and and more logs. Great, more logging camps. Or maybe the same logging camp. Americans certainly enjoyed their wood, it seemed. Even so, the petrol station was in sight: a small wooded path from the opposite end of the camp led upwards towards the petrol station. All she had to do was to pass more stacks of wood and open the fence on the other end of the camp.
She should have known that it wouldn't be that easy. Especially when the shadow-man flitted into existence right in front of her near the exit. Bellatrix' eyes grew wide as she threw herself to the side just in time to avoid an inhumanly fast and powerful swing of a bloodied shadow-imbued axe. When she hit the dirt her body protested, but she forced herself to keep moving as the axe was brought down upon her.
Bellatrix ran on instinct. She was a warrior. She had always been a warrior. Though she had no wand, she was far from defenseless. She had killed without wands before and had no qualms about doing so again. The dark witch snarled, raised her hands and concentrated. Folding her palms together, there fingers served as a focus for magic instead of a wand. The attack wouldn't be as powerful, but it should be enough. With a shriek coming from her lungs, the magic burst forth and slammed into the shadow-man's chest.
And… nothing.
He'd just shrugged it off as if it was nothing when it should have tossed him across the yard!
Not someone to panic, Bellatrix was nonetheless perturbed that had spell had done nothing while the shadow-man raised his axe again. Think. Think!
Darkness. Light. Shadows. Light.
"LUMOS!" Bellatrix screamed and a ball of light exploded in her hand.
The shadow-man flinched for a moment, but quickly regained his purposeful stride.
More light then. Again, Bellatrix folded her palms together and stood her ground. It took all the concentration she had, but she managed to focus the ball of light into a tight beam and managed to aim it at the shadow-man. The shadows writhed under the baleful light as if in pain. Though the man got closer and closer, Bellatrix grit her teeth and poured more of her anger and power into the light. Until. Until…
The man staggered back as the writhing shadows exploded away from him, hissing as they died within the light. The man himself staggered, but then continued stepping forward. Though the shadows were gone, the darkness within remained.
It was pure instinct that saved Bellatrix' life, honed from years of fighting guerilla warfare during the First Wizarding War. As the axe came swinging towards her, Bellatrix raised her arms and poured all her power into a protective shield just as the axe would hit her side with enough force to slice her in half. Though the shield took the edge of the axe, its kinetic energy transfered to Bellatrix. The dark witch yelped as she was sent flying and unceremoniously smashed into a stack of logs.
Her head, her body exploded with pain, she tasted blood in her mouth and felt warm liquid run down her face and side.
"DIESEL! PREMIUM!"
She would not die here. Not here in this godforsaken forest. Not to a muggle.
Bellatrix grit her teeth and raised both hands again. Kill or be killed. And she wouldn't be killed today. No toying, no games, but pure lethal precision.
Head. Heart.
Two bolts found true. The magic would travel through flesh and disrupt cellular bonds, turning whatever organ it hit into mush.
Head. Heart. The shadow-man was finally finished. He sank to his knees before his body violently dissolved into ash, boiling away into the air. Well… that was unexpected. But not entirely without its merits: explaining away a body to muggle police would have been quite vexing.
Merlin, she hurt all over. Bellatrix sat for a moment before forcing herself up again, forcing her aching body to cooperate. Though she tried to soothe herself with healing magics, she was in so much pain that she barely even noticed its application. Looking down at her side, she hissed when she saw that her shield had protected her from the axe, but apparently not from a sharpened cut off branch still on one of the logs. It was now piecing her side underneath the ribs and warm blood was gushing from the wound. Yelling out in pain as she did so, she pushed herself away from the log and branch inches deep in her side. Her hand was covered with blood as she let healing magic flow into the wound.
The path. The petrol station. Hermione. She was so close and staggered over the path, her body swaying with every step as she fought to remain conscious.
After what she had just experienced, even the artificial muggle lights of the petrol station seemed inviting. For a moment, sanity reasserted itself. A small shop was located next to a garage in front of two pumps. An extremely silly muggle-truck stood parked next to the garage, a cartoon deer had been mounted on top of it. She'd have found it comical if her body didn't smart so much. Bellatrix staggered to the door of the shop and found it closed. So much for 24 hour service.
Nobody around.
Her eye caught side of a sign placed next to the door. It was an advertisement sporting the same cartoon deer she'd seen on the float. '68 th Annual Deer Fest' it said, above a tear-off calendar.
7 days.
7 days till the Annual Deer Fest.
Her mind was clouded and foggy, but she distinctly remembered the sign at the Oh Deer Diner mentioning the Deer Fest would be two weeks from today. If this sign here at the petrol station was correct then… she was missing a whole week's worth of memories.
Though that was disturbing enough, she still needed to find help. Bellatrix stepped into the petrol station's garage and found the place was a mess. It looked like it had been recently ransacked or a fight had broken out. Light spilled into the room through an open door at the back and she made her way towards it. The door led into the shop. The first thing Bellatrix did was grab a half a litre bottle of Pepsi and glugged it down in one go. The sugary liquid did wonders for her parched throat and she was most grateful for the small comfy office chair behind the counter she could sit on for a bit.
A phone was set next to an old portable muggle TV.
A phone. Now how did these bloody things work again?
She picked up the horn and yelled into it. "Hello?" she rasped. "I need help."
Her head throbbed, her vision blurred. All she wanted to do was to close her eyes and sleep forever. Now that the adrenalin was starting to run out, the pain was coming through in full force.
Yes. She needed to dial a number first.
9.
1.
1.
A tone.
"County Sheriff's Office, what's your emergency?" sounded a pleasant voice on the other side of the line.
Before Bellatrix could speak, her head lalled, she cringed in pain as she started to see stars in front of her eyes.
The old portable muggle TV sprang to live and Bellatrix saw… herself, huddling to herself, whispering to herself. With fascination, Bellatrix tried to focus on the screen seeing herself back at Bird Leg Cabin. 'Cabin,' she heard herself mutter. 'Inside. outside only darkness. I'll keep focus. I'll keep creating. It will come true. If I stop, Hermione is lost. Hermione. Hermione... Hermione.'
And just like, the screen was blank again.
"Well," Bellatrix whispered with a wry chuckle, her voice startlingly weak. "I've finally gone completely insane…"
"Ma'am? Could you repeat that? Ma'am? Are you alright?"
Right. The phone.
Bellatrix blinked, losing the fight to keep her eyes open. With all her last remaining focus and willpower, she managed to speak the words she needed to. "Accident… side of the road… Am at petrol station… Logging Camp… Need… Need… He… Hermione…"
The dark witch slid off the chair and fell onto the ground, not having the will to rise again. The horn of the phone fell off the counter to hang right in front of her drowsy eyes.
"Ma'am? Ma'am?!" sounded from the other end of the line, while Bellatrix slipped away into merciful painless slumber.