After a rather long Hiatus, here is Chapter 5! I hope it is good! Enjoy!
It was dark and damp, but there was an all-consuming heat radiating around them as they entered. With heavy footsteps Peter followed Olivia down a stone staircase, the sound echoing into the dark chambers that surrounded them. Olivia was quiet and the only sound coming from her was her quiet breath that came out in puffs. Her blonde hair created a halo around her head and Peter found himself fighting the urge to run his fingers through it.
"Olivia," he called. There was no answer so he determined she was still angry.
"Olivia, look I'm sorry okay, I really am," he began again. There was no response.
"Liv?"
"What Peter?" she said, wheeling around on him, "You're sorry? For what, what you've said or the fact we're now in Hell, a place I didn't even think existed and there's no way out?"
"Both," he muttered and they began walking again, "Look I just wanted to get out of here-"
"Me too."
"Then let's just concentrate on that okay?" he suggested, reaching out his hand to touch her. She looked at it but nodded.
"Okay." He reached out and stroked her cheek gently, her face relaxing at his touch. She hated how she felt so at ease then, but she was scared and he was there to comfort her. He had no idea though for his mind was far off.
"How deep do you think they went?" Olivia asked, turning back around and continuing down the path. Peter shrugged and followed, careful not to touch anything.
"Depends," he said with a frown, kicking a stone with his foot, "How far would you go in here?"
"I wouldn't," Olivia answered unhappily, "But let's turn that question around on you shall we?"
"Oh and what's that supposed to mean?" Peter snapped before he could control himself. He seemed to be just digging a deeper hole for himself. Better to dig down here he thought sarcastically, because he'd hit rock bottom in no time.
"It means whatever you want it too," Olivia replied smoothly. She had just turned a corner when the ground began to grow lighter in color. Olivia stared ahead as she walked, the ground become softer turning from solid rock to stone, from stone to sand, from sand to dust and from dust to dirt. Just as she came around another corner the dirt turned into grass and she stopped. Peter, who hadn't caught up yet called out to her.
"Livia," he called, "Stop!"
"I already have," she said stooping down to pick up the grass, "Look Peter."
Peter tucked his hands into his peacoat and stared at the grass in her hand. She did not flinch at its' touch it did not burn her. He couldn't touch for it would burn him. Grass. Burning Peter Bishop. So this really was hell. Great.
"It's grass Livia," Peter drawled. Olivia glared.
"Glad to see you aren't blind," she said dropping the grass. Spinning on her heel she headed down the tunnel and down a flight of stairs. Peter followed with a sigh. At the bottom of the stairs Olivia stopped in front of a door. She, on instinct drew her gun.
"Peter open the door," she said nodding her head. Peter gulped.
"No," he said defiantly. Olivia glared. That was one way not to get back on her good side. She pushed the door open herself and went in gun drawn. Peter followed, expecting for flames to engulf them and that would be it. But what he saw was something else entirely.
There were fields of green. Rolling meadows of green grass and a bright sun. The sky was blue and clear, much like the sky up on earth itself. The grass fields where gentle and smooth, rolling for as far as the eye could see. Peter blinked, unable to understand- it looked just like Earth, where were they?
Olivia was unsure too, for she held her gun out, but lowered it to her side. As she walked on, a path appeared in front of them, and as she stepped on it, Peter reached out to pull her back.
"Liv," he warned, "Let me, it could be a trap."
"I can do it," Olivia said with stubbornness. Peter growled and stepped on in front of her. The moment Olivia stepped on behind him, the ground began moving quickly. On instinct Olivia grabbed to keep her balance, clinging to Peter has the scene around her became a blur, the world moving by so quickly that she had to squeeze her eyes shut. Peter bent his knees so he wouldn't fall and held Olivia up. Just as he felt like he could no longer stand, the ground stopped violently and he stumbled forward, pressing his bare palm to a wall only to move it twice as fast. The burn mark was there and visible. Cursing under his breath he stuffed it back into his pocket.
"You alright?" he said, pulling Olivia up into a stand. With a sweeping movement she brushed her hair from her face and nodded. She made to move but stumbled, Peter catching her with ease.
"Here," he said, "I'll help you."
"Where are we?" Olivia mumbled, looking up at the great castle.
It was true, they had moved from rolling fields of green to a large stone castle that loomed over them. It was sitting by itself in a field of green, but leering toward the sky above in a menacing way. Peter shook his head.
"I don't know," he answered, "But here, let's go see if anyone's home."
With slow, careful movements he help Olivia get settled before standing her up straight and leading the way to the iron gate. Peter looked behind it for anyone to open them, but was startled by the voice that called to them.
"Who is here?" a deep voice called. Peter looked up to see a tall African American man on top of the wall, looking down at them. Peter grinned wolfishly.
"I don't suppose F.B.I. open up is going to work here, eh?" he whispered to Olivia. Olivia glared.
"The gate keeper sent us," Olivia said boldly, "It says you have answers for our questions."
"Not me," answered the man, "I am not who you are looking for. Come in."
The man moved from the wall and the gate began to open. Pulling up into the stone, Olivia peered into the place catiously, only to find no one in there. Peter strode in the only the way he could. His hands were burning, one freshly burnt and throbbing. Olivia eyed the place the only way she knew how, looking for danger. She could find it at any turn here though, so it was more likely pointless.
The large African American man met them at the bottom of a flight of stairs and nodded at the pair.
"Ah yes," the man said, "Saint and Sinner, we've been waiting. What took you so long?"
"Um," Olivia said, "I don't know who you think we are, but we are not the 'Saint and Sinner' pair everyone thinks we are. We are just from earth, you know alive."
The great man chuckled, "Of course you aren't. Follow me."
Olivia ran a hand through her hair and sighed. Who did they think they were? Peter, clearly amused by her frustration, followed her and the man to the large doors that he shoved open. It opened to a grand foyer with lavish gifts and sculptures. Peter whistled lowly.
"And they call this place hell," he muttered. The man was next to him in a second.
"It may look like Earth, but tell me, when you die do you expect heaven to look the same as earth? No. You are expecting better. But you're stuck in monotony, stuck in Limbo."
"Limbo?" Peter raised his eyebrows. The man nodded.
"Welcome to Limbo," he said, "We have been waiting. Please, he will not wait much longer."
"He?" Olivia questioned, following the man down the halls. The man nodded before opening the doors to a large hall. It was lavishly decorated with ornate statues and beautiful tapestries. Peter looked at it all with amazement. It reminded him of a palace in Saudi Arabia, well the one he had been in at least.
"I've been waiting," came the deep voice of someone at the end of the dark wooden table. The African American man bowed before turning to Peter and Olivia.
"They have arrived," the man said, "See here the saint," he aid, pointing to Olivia, "And the sinner," he said, grasping Peter's hand. Before he could pull it away the man squeezed it, causing Peter to cry out in pain and unfurl his fist. Scorch marks on the skin stood out in the light and Olivia looked at him with honest disbelief.
"Come closer," the voice called and the man tugged Peter closer. A bald man dressed in a white linen cloth was seated at the head of the table, Olive branches in remained of his hair. His eyes were sunken and deep, the blue color holding a lot of knowledge. Wise was practically written on his face. The man grasped Peter's and looked at the scorch marks.
"Yes, yes," the wise man said, "He is definitely the sinner. But this is not his circle. Do not fear sinner, nothing will burn you here."
"Excuse me," Olivia said, stepping forward. The man looked at her. "We are not who you think we are. My name is Special Agent Olivia Dunham and that there is Peter Bishop. We are from the Earth. You see a pair passed through here with a device that opened your world to ours. Something from your world is in ours and we need to get the controller they left here so we can get back and close the hole before more escape."
The wise man's blue eyes sparkled at her before he nodded.
"Yes of course," he said, "But please, sit, eat, you must be weary. It was a long travel to this level. I offered your friends the same hospitality but they refused. It was rather, unwise."
Peter gulped and nodded before sitting. Olivia looked at Peter in question before sliding into the seat next to him. The man slid down bread to them.
"My name is Virgil," he spoke, "And I have been waiting. You have questions."
"Yes," Olivia answered, "You know the others that came through-"
"Yes," Virgil answered her, "They were rude, unkind and greedy. They did not belong here."
"Wait," Peter said, dropping his slice of bread. Olivia glared at him, "You said greedy?"
"Yes."
"What level is greed on?"
Virgil shrugged. "That I do not know. I only know I am stuck here. You however are not. But I insist you stay for the night. You two are very important in the balance of the universes."
Olivia nodded as did Peter. Virgil gave a smile.
"Very well," he said, "Kingsley will show you to your rooms."
A tall black dog stalked from behind the man, two green eyes in its head and staring at them. Peter stared back he had never seen a dog like that before. The dog almost smiled at him. Wait, it did. Peter blinked.
"Go on," Virgil said, "He does not bite. Well not mortals anyway."
Olivia nodded and followed the dog out with Peter right behind her. Just as they turned the hall Olivia slowed down and matched the speed with Peter before reaching for his hand. The one scorched the worse.
"You could have told me," she said. Peter pulled back his hand.
"No," he answered, "I couldn't tell you."
"Why not?" Olivia demanded.
"Because," he hissed, gripping her wrist, "I don't belong here Olivia. At least, I don't want to end up here. I want to end up somewhere good. Virgil said this isn't my level. How much worse is it? Where do I belong Liv? I'm not a religious person but I don't want to be here. I don't want to be a sinner."
"And hiding that from me makes you somehow better?" she asked. With a tugged she ripped free her hand and stalked away, leaving a stunned Peter behind. She was right though, he lied to her, does that make him better? Or worse?
Oh how he did not want to end up here.
