Disclaimer: I don't own any POTC characters, only my OCs.
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Chapter 7: Things never go according to plan
The moment we touched the shore, I knew something was wrong.
Just something.
Something.
Wrong.
I couldn't tell what it was.
I couldn't tell where it came from.
It just appeared, poking out of glowing skies, stabbing through the nape of my neck.
A sense of something misplaced.
A sense of something lost.
A sense of something wrong.
Just something.
Something.
Wrong.
Balder didn't seem notice.
Instead, the moment our little boat hit against the cracked, algae-coated ridges of an empty, lonely jetty, Balder sprinted out of the rocking boat and unto the creaking planks, a blur of brilliant gold. It was a crumbling wooden quay, deserted and abandoned, quite far away from the other piers and rolling ships, rotting wood splintering along the edges, empty barrels knocked over their sides; it was a small little pier, with no life whatsoever, and the creaks that moaned beneath Balder's bare feet echoed away over the golden ways, like the bones of old groaning in despair. Ships rolled by, ignoring our little vessel, voices of Spanish, English, Dutch and French crashing about in the warm dawn wind, waves rippling away in their wake, surging against us in golden laps. Shadows and light played about the river, the massive, wide beautiful river.
The Thames River.
After all, what else could it be?
Wrong.
Balder's voice grunted in the warm wind.
"Here we go."
With loud creaks moaning beneath his quick feet, the golden god reached down towards the boat again, towards us, and without a single hesitation, plucked Will off my lap; his arm swung smoothly, and before I knew it, Will's breathing, warm body was trailing away from me and into Balder's arms again, thrown over his wide shoulders like a rag doll. Dark, curly hair whipped in the wind as he stirred slightly upon the giant's shoulder, black coat flapping back against the dusky gold of Balder' skin, arms hanging lifelessly and helplessly. Boots dangled down, his skin glowing gold in the sunlight and even though I knew he was alive, I knew that he was safe…
Something was still wrong.
Just something.
Something.
Wrong.
Balder caught my look.
"Stop it."
I pushed my whipping short hair out of my face.
"Stop what?"
"Stop treating him like he's a feather or something. He's not going to fly away, me dame."
A frown twitched against the edges of my lip.
"I'm not-"
"Then stop looking at him-"
"Would you just shut up and help me up?" I growled, and threw up a hand towards Balder's hulking form. He didn't answer; instead, his own lips quirked into a little golden smile and in the bright light of the beautiful sunrise, he reached down with one free hand, balancing Will on his shoulder, and helped me up.
With a grasp of his giant warm hand, I trudged out of the rocking, shaky little boat and up onto the wooden pier; it was a bit of leap, a wobbly, ungraceful leap, but with a little huff, and a pull on Balder's hand, I jumped up onto the jetty, wood groaning in protest beneath my feet. Algae slipped beneath, and flakes of rotten wood crumbled around my boots, rusty iron nails blinking sleepily up at me, like little silver stars. Sunlight leaped about the wood, barnacles and seaweed glossy and slimy in the glisten of rising sun.
Will's black leather jacket flapped away in the warm, delicious wind.
Balder's curls giggled, golden and precious in the radiance of the rising day.
Water lapped beneath, a song of soft, beautiful voices.
Sparrow's beads laughed.
Wrong.
Balder cleared his throat.
"Come on then, me dame."
With that, he swung around, and began to walk up the pier, wood moaning and screaming beneath each step of his golden bare feet; upon his shoulder, Will hung there again, as he had before back at Hel, limp and quiet, fast, fast asleep, bobbing along to each painfully loud step, deaf and dead to the whole world. His skin was golden, burning bright in the sun's glare, and as the wind played with his dark hair, his face twitching slightly in the midst of sleep, his warm breath rustled the edges of Balder's long curls, breathing down against his neck.
Still breathing.
Still alive.
Alive.
"Hurry up, dame!"
And yet wrong.
Wood moaned beneath my feet.
Wrong.
Without another word, I began to follow up the derelict pier, brushing by the abandoned crates and woozy barrels, watching my step on the crumbling planks as much as I was watching Will, still keeping an eye on him, still looking after him. The gleam of Balder's arrows and bow strapped upon his back contorted the world with shafts of bright light as I followed them, gazing at them, Will's dark hair whirled in the warm wind, dancing in the golden breeze-
Charon.
The thought came so sudden, so quick, and yet so very simple that it startled me how, in that short time, I had completely forgotten it.
Forgotten him.
Charon.
Without a word, I turned around, wincing against the golden skies, the bright beaming light, black robes whooshing as I gazed down towards our little boat, towards our mysterious, hellish rower, to perhaps, for the first time, see his very face-
"Don't look."
It was Balder's voice, and in the glare of rising sun, I turned back to him, away from the boat, from the dark rower before I could even glimpse at his face, short curls shivering against my warmed cheeks; Balder was there, turned back to me now, and in the warm rustling of the river's breeze, I could see that his blue eyes, his brilliant, wild blue eyes were now bright, hot and burning. There was no smile, no little wink, no mischievous smirk to tease at me again-
Just hot eyes.
Urgent eyes.
Wrong.
"What?"
His voice was cold as steel.
"Don't look at him," he nodded once, those eyes strange and hot and slightly insane, his arm strapped along the back of Will's knees as he held him over his shoulder, the waves laughing, the wind giggling, the warm sunlight burning against the nape of my neck, his voice cold and firm like the bitter ice, "Don't look at Charon, Joey. Don't even try."
For a moment, I didn't know what to say.
I just stood there, staring at those wild eyes, frozen upon that forgotten jetty, sunlight burning through my skin as the thought, the very thought that Charon the rower was still standing there, in his black, trailing robe, staring at us, at me, right at me-
And I wanted to look.
For some reason, for some arcane, unbelievable reason…
I wanted to see his face.
Just once.
Just once.
A tint of warmth splashed over Balder's voice again.
"Come on, then. Don't look at him."
"Why not?"
"Because I said so."
"Oh? So we're doing what you say now? Lord help us then."
A little smile, just a little one, and then, with his free arm, Balder waved me forward, before him, upwards towards the city.
"Come on."
With a soft sigh, I began to walk forward again, the urge to turn back, to get just one little peek at the strange rower, at Hel's boatman, gnawing right through me, biting down to my skull; I wanted to look, for some stupid reason, to look beneath that black, black hood and to see that face-
I mean, was Charon like a human?
Or, more likely, a daemon?
Maybe he wasn't even either.
Maybe he was something else.
Something two weeks in Hel wasn't enough to let me piece together in my imagination…
Perhaps something like the Hellhounds?
Or maybe, one of those Underworld pixies, those little winged monsters-
But no, maybe he was more like those fire monsters-
"I told you not to look."
"Who said I was looking?" I threw back at him, wood screaming beneath every step as I walked up the pier, Will's black coat flapping, water licking gold below, the urge to turn back, to just get a little peek burning right through my skin, my mind practically screaming at me to just turn back, "I'm not even looking-"
"You want to look."
"Doesn't mean I'm looking."
"Doesn't mean you won't-"
"Oh, shut up, Balder!" I whined, trudging up the last few steps towards him, Will's dark curls whipping in the wind behind the god's long mane of golden curls, my own black robe rippling away in the warm breeze as the wood screamed and cried like tortured souls, "I'm not looking. I'm not even trying to look- why can't I even look?"
The little smile on Balder's lips twitched a little.
The insanity, the burning white hotness stirred in his blue eyes.
Will slept silent, dead to the world.
Wrong.
Balder sighed.
"Just don't."
Wood moaned beneath my steps.
"Why not?"
Golden curls laughed.
"Because to look at the face of Charon would…"
And then he trailed off, just like that.
Just like that.
Wrong.
For a moment, he just stood there, staring right at me, his lips clamping together as his sentence unfinished in the air, the beautiful golden sunlight dancing about his startling cheekbones, his dusky skin, his hot, mad eyes. Will hung silently on his shoulder, still trapped in a dark sleep, and for a second, for just a second, the waking world hushed and Balder just stared.
Just stared.
Wrong.
And then, he turned around, and began to walk up the pier again.
Silently.
Mutely.
Wood screaming at every step.
Wrong.
Without another thought, another single thought, I turned half around, not fully, looking back over the Thames through the corner of my eye, my senses, my instincts suddenly screaming to full alert, to full attention at the slightest chance that Balder was right, that I shouldn't be looking at Charon at all…
There, at the very edge of my vision, at the foot of the pier, our little boat was rowing away, bobbing in the golden waters as it pushed off from the broken jetty, rocking back and forth, lost and out of placed. It was moving away from us, slowly, beautifully, a dark shadow skimming over the bright waters as it finally left us for good. At the head of the turned boat, rowing with the long vertical oar, Charon paddled forth, thick and slow, a tall, dark figure pushing forth into the sunlight. He was facing forward, away from us, and once more, all I could see of the fabled boatman of Hel was his long, dark back, his black robe rippling down like an endless cascade of the deepest night. Hands dipped the oar in the water over and over again, slow and rhythmic, a soft, sad tune.
I couldn't see his face.
Wrong.
"Dame!"
"Yeah, yeah…" I muttered, and with a sinking feeling in my gut, I turned away from the fading shadow upon the river and back towards the pier.
As said before, the jetty was a small one, a derelict, deserted little ruin, rotting wood descending towards the waves, thick algae like a coat of paint; it was small, incredibly small and abandoned, only big enough for maybe three little vessels, with old, torn rope wrapped around two masts, black with edge, green with barnacles. Urchins covered the forgotten pier, little crabs the size of fingernails feasting on the little barnacles, scurrying about the creaking floor, beady black eyes staring furiously up at us. Dead fishes, leftovers from catches long time ago, scattered rotten and putrid among some knotted nets, seagulls the size of computers skimming over the planks, plucking their breakfast off the vile ground. Wood hung on all sides, rotten, black wood crumbling and whining at every step, as if it could all just give away at any moment.
At any moment at all.
At the end of the small pier, up the lane of breaking, cracking wood, there was a set of wooden stairs, wide and short, climbing upwards towards the shore, railings of rotten wood bordering either side; a small, dead, metal lamp swung empty and dark on one of the head of the railings, rocking in the warm wind, knocking metal against the rotting wood, loud, disturbing clangs. Above, the stair climbed in the clinging shadows of dawn, and soon enough, the derelict, old wood gave way to cobblestone stairs, proper stairs, a short flight of carved, identical rocky steps leading up to the shore. Unlike the wood, it was untouched by the river, only bits of algae among its ridges; it flowed smoothly upwards, climbing up the shore, black rock against the broken wood, until at its very end, gleaming in the sun's light, was a little wall of the same rock. It was a low wall, a sort of barrier, and it stretched on along the shore, from ends to ends, disappearing on either side in the midst of the sun's glare, like a wave breaker or a stone fence. It was nothing spectacular, just a long, low wall, and as we climbed up towards it, wood creaking and screaming, the golden sky above began to darken with the storm of smoke, wisp of black smog trailing over the piers and a little over the river, like a cloud storm just coming into view.
The smell of ash began to tint the world, the beautiful, golden warm world.
Wrong.
In a matter of a minute, we had climbed up the wooden pier, up past the clanging lamp, up through the creaky, broken steps, skipping over the smooth rocky stair until at long last, we were at the low wall. There was an opening in the wall, the stairs connected with the low black breaker like the typical design of the era; it was gothic, somehow, and yet, we marched on, trudging up the slick black stairs and through the opening in the wall.
Will hung on, fast asleep like a babe.
Balder's curls giggled.
My insides burned.
Wrong.
The world unfolded before us.
Wrong.
Before us, beyond the pier and the low grey wall, stretching out before us as far as the sun's golden glare, was a street of houses, a dark, lonely, silent street; cobblestone road ran smooth in a straight line, downwards away from us, disappearing into the midst of the sun's furious glare, harsh black against the golden sun. Pebbles after pebbles marched in a straight line, orderly and firm, sleek black gleaming bright and old in the dawn's growing light; in the distance, the sun blanked out most of the end of the road, but it seemed to twist away, turning and twirling off, a short, little street with a junction of black cobblestone cutting across, dividing the street into half. On either side of this plain, simple rocky road marched pavements of cement, narrow grey strips striding along with the road, it's constant companions until the junction, and hence forth in the sun's golden glare. They were simple pavements, a simple road-
Only, they weren't so plain as I first saw them to be.
Not after a second blink.
Wrong.
All the way, near our feet towards the end of the twisting corner, the black road and it's simple pavements were littered with dirt, trash and broken wood. Pieces of old furniture, of dismantled, twisted metal, and broken crates scattered about the long, narrow road, shreds of fabric torn over the ridges as ash and dirt coated the simple street. Broken glass and wood lay everywhere, all about the pavements, scattered onto the road, large chunks of broken bricks and smashed furniture lying slumped along the corners, like hulking, disturbing shadows. In the center, the road was mostly clear safe for a bit of shattered glass and splinters of wood, broken and jagged bricks lying about the ground, a dark brown against the gleaming black of the road. Glass bits gleamed like a thousand stars against the midnight road.
As if something had been torn down.
As if worlds had been destroyed.
Wrong.
In the middle of the black road, amidst the rubble and forgotten chaos, standing tall and dark was a statue, erect upon a marble pedestal, gleaming in the sun's glare. It was bronze, obviously, a tint of amber and gold clashing together as the sunlight danced it's furious light upon the tall statue, metal burning like a dark star; the pedestal on which it stood upon was marble, but old marble, dark marble, forgotten marble, vines and ferns of thick green plants writhing about the square monument, crawling about the old edifice. Vines and branches of green strangled the marble fixture, covering the base almost entirely with crawling, twisting lush, spokes of little red flowers dotting the verdant structure, wild and untamed; leafy branches were crawling upon the statue too, up past it's mid-riff, past it's chest, writhing, green vines, twisting like snakes around the bronze's man ankles, his legs, his torso, and slowly about his neck. The wild was consuming it, devouring it, and though the bronze of the statue still burned through the verdant green, the lush was engulfing it, overwhelming the silent bronze man as he gazed out onto the golden river beyond, his cries strangled away by the growing wild. No plague was in sight, nor any other sign; it was just a dark, lonely statue of a simple man, the wild vines of nature itself slowly devouring it forever.
Forgotten forever.
Wrong.
My heart screamed.
So wrong.
On either side of the littered street, of all the rubble, of the lone, dark statue, houses marched up the road, square, uniform, ugly houses, brown as the earth itself. They were all the same, the same design, the same colour, tall flat rectangular faces of brown brick marching side by side; they were all joined together, as were the typical fashion of that time, a continuous plain stream of ugly bricks, cut only by the road's junction a few houses down. They were tall, all of them, about three stories high, long, narrow things, their metal-slate roofs gleaming in the sun's golden light as they slammed up into the smoky sky, identical, mirror images staring at one another across the street; above, black chimneys poked up into the smoky sky, tall and utilitarian, puffs of black, black smoke spilling out of some of those long mouths, adding on to the growing madness of black smoke in the skies. Their faces were identical, all brick-brown, all dull as hell, windows of whitewash climbing every house as doors of dark marched in symmetry, everything uniform and plain-
Only, like the road, it wasn't at all.
It wasn't all the same.
It wasn't all plain.
It wasn't all right.
Wrong.
A gasp chortled my throat.
So wrong.
Most of the houses were ruined, damaged, destroyed, torn away or wrecked, so much devastation; doors were ripped off hinges, windows smashed and dark, chunks of bricks pulled out of the sides and scattered about the floor, broken and ruined. Metal roofs were caved in, empty, gaping, splintered holes atop the ugly ruins, chimneys of black crumbled and torn, flailing over the sides. Torn curtains flapped wildly out of black windows, broken windows, their colours dark and dull against the black and browns and gold, jagged broken glass stabbing out of listless windowsills like teeth, bloody and raw. Lamps hung shattered and ruined upon the pavements, porch lamps broken, porch steps crumbled and jagged and dusted with cement and brick; furniture, broken, trashed furniture spilled out of black doorways and empty windows, shambles of chairs and tables and beds, nothing more then debris, choking out of those horrible houses, destroyed into millions of pieces. Some of the houses had been obviously burnt, their faces black with flames, their bricks crumbled to ashes, parts of their scorched faces nothing more then shambles on the ground, their bricks dark and torn down, buildings now wreckages of burnt black, empty and cold. Windows smoked, the smell of ash tinging the air, and other houses were just ruined, collapsed, devastated, half of their faces crumbled to the ground, shambles of brick and mortar and furniture hanging off the gaping sides, like blood spewing from open wounds. Dust shifted in the warm wind, ash and splinters and glittering broken glass, curtains wailing like tormented, ruined souls. Black, empty windows watched, dark, listless eyes.
The world was burnt.
The world was ruined.
The world was destroyed.
Oh God.
I couldn't speak.
I couldn't even breathe.
Destroyed.
A sob wrecked my lungs.
Silence screamed.
Wrong.
Balder spoke.
"Well, not a pretty town, this London."
His voice was so odd, so very merry and chirpy and Balder in the cold, cold silence of the horrible devastation before us; behind, the rising sun's light was no longer warm, no longer sweet, no longer delicious and comforting and so very beautiful-
Because all of a sudden, it felt like Hell again.
Just like Hell.
Wrong.
"Something's wrong."
It was a whisper, a soft, shivering whisper, but in the icy silence, in the dreadful silence and the hushed destruction, Balder heard me.
Loud and clear.
"Wrong?" He threw me a look, a half-incredulous look, his golden hair whipping, Will silent upon his shoulder, his blue eyes flaring bright as the sun kissed about his cheeks, the desolate street, the ruined street silent and dark behind him, "Of course, something's wrong. Look around you, me dame. Someone forgot to decorate the place."
I tore my eyes away from the horrible scene long enough to glare right at him.
"That's not funny."
"Of course it's funny."
"That's not even remotely funny-"
"You are such a downer, me dame-"
"Balder, don't you get it?" I snarled a little, wrapping my arms around my body as a sinking feeling tugged at my tugs, a cold hand wrapping around my screaming heart as I stared out at the silent, lonely street, broken glass glittering like stars, forgotten ash drafting over the rubble, kicked up by the not-so-warm wind, "this isn't London. It can't be-"
He quirked an eyebrow, a single, golden eyebrow.
"You sure about that?"
Something tugged viciously at my heart.
My guts tightened.
Wrong.
I gulped.
"No," I shook my head, a quiver prickling in my voice as the curtains flapped high above, flags of a forgotten disaster, the black smokes of the city filling the air with the nauseating stench of ash, "I mean…it can't be-"
"I don't know what you're talking about, me-"
"Balder, look around you! This place-"
"Needs some flowers."
"Balder-"
"And bananas."
"Charon must have gotten it wrong," I said softly now, gazing past Balder and Will, scanning the desolate silence of the ruined street, my gut tight, my heart plunging, a terrible sickness gripping my insides as the dark statue loomed ahead, watching us silently, "We can't be in London. 1700s…. nothing like this is supposed to happen-"
"Alright then, me dame," he grunted, adjusting Will's weight on his shoulder, blue eyes laughing, "Where are we then?"
Something burned behind my eyes.
Silence screamed.
"I don't know."
"Say that again."
"I don't know, alright."
"One more time."
"I. Don't. Know-"
"Just another time-"
"I DON'T KNOW!" And my yell echoed away over the silent, wrecked street, the black windows staring, the empty doorways gaping, the wailing curtains and the drifting ash dancing in the warm wind as my words bounced off the crumbled buildings and forgotten debris, the only voice in the silent, dead world, "I don't know, moron. I don't. This can't be London, alright? This is supposed to be the greatest city in the world right now-"
"And maybe there was a fire on the street," he nodded mockingly, bobbing his head up and down as if I were a child, and he an adult pacifying me, "You know, someone forgot to blow out the light? Ever thought about that-"
"Doesn't look like fire, Balder."
"Those buildings are scorched!"
"But the others aren't."
"Alright," he sighed, and took two long steps away from me, towards the silent, graveyard of houses, in line with the dark statue, looking out towards the crumbling street as he carried Will in his arms like a silly rag doll, the warm wind doing nothing as the destruction lay dark and haunting, a horrible memory," What are you suggesting then, me dame?"
I closed my eyes.
I breathed.
Wrong.
"Nothing."
He didn't even bother to look back me.
"Exactly."
My heart screamed.
"Balder-"
"What I'm betting, me dame, is there was a fire," he said simply enough, with a wink of blue back at me, holding Will tight on his shoulder, "There was a fire on this road, and the rest of this houses…as you call them…. went aflame. Everything burned down, people died…. same old story-"
"I don't k-"
"And the moment we walk out this street, and to the rest of the city, everything will be normal again-"
"Something is wrong, Balder."
He looked back at me.
Silence.
And then, with a quirky smile, he winked.
"Maybe."
A trembled crept onto my lips.
The curtains screamed.
"Maybe?"
His blue eyes flared.
"My sister once said never to ignore a woman's instinct-"
"Your sister was smart."
"Yes, but you don't really count as a woman, do you me dame?"
A groan throttled my throat and I closed my eyes in frustration, a sudden cold biting in my fingers, a tremble racing through my heart. My tongue felt raw.
Wrong.
I cleared my throat.
"Listen, asshole, I'm not saying this again-"
"So, what do you want to do then? Go back to Hell?"
"What? No!" I frowned, crossing my arms tighter as I glared at the grinning god, Will's pretty face buried in the thick of his curls, his black coat flapping away, back in the desolate scene, the statue of ivy and vines watching us from a far, "Will-"
"Exactly. Will."
"I know-"
"So, it doesn't matter if you feel that something is wrong-"
"Because we have to get Will somewhere safe," I finished off, and a knot formed thick in my gut, a horrible black knot, gnawing through my skin-
Because he was right.
Balder was right.
Balder was always right.
Will.
I had to look after Will.
I had to get him to a bed.
To get a doctor, maybe.
Anything.
Everything.
I had to protect Will.
Even if something was wrong.
So terribly wrong.
"Fine," I nodded my head, suppressing the trembles in my voice, my insides burning raw, my heart screaming, the silence of the destroyed street like a presence watching out of the darkness, the statue staring right at me, "You're right…. fine. We'll go-"
"Good-"
"But we watch where we go, got it? We'll find an inn, or something…but we'll watch our steps. Something…I don't think a fire did this, Balder."
For a second, he just stared at me.
Just stared at me.
Wrong.
Then, in the soft silence of the destroyed world, he whispered.
"So do I."
Oh God.
He walked away.
Wrong.
For a moment, I just stood there, watching as he trailed away, down the debris-covered, shadowy street, ignoring the torn, wrecked buildings on either side as he carried my sleeping Will, down towards the sun's glare. Golden curls laughed, his bronze biceps rolling in the golden light, Will's dark hair whipping back and forth and as he walked silently down the deserted street, stepping over and ignoring all the ruins and devastation, he whistled a soft, happy tune, like the sound of birds in the morning's light. Broken glass glittered like jewels, and the lonely curtains flapped like blood-drenched flags of horrid war, whipping in the smoky sky, dancing to the chirpy tune. A broken door, hanging on its hinges, swung in the warm wind, creaking a horrid cry, a terrible beat to the haunting song. Sunlight burned against my icy skin.
My insides screamed.
Wrong.
I followed him.
All around, the debris, the rubble, the ruins lay silent and cold, crumbling houses staring out at me, calling out to me, dark windows watching as I passed them, empty doorways inviting me in; as I followed, I began to step over the wreckage, jumping over shattered wood, and crunching bits of glass beneath my boots. Scraps of furniture and lamps and books scraped against my body as I manoeuvred through the ruins, gazing over the forgotten, wrecked things, objects that once were real, that once belonged to someone. Ash coated everything, the ashes of burned wood and paper and cloth, burned black bricks scattered all about the mess, as if the buildings had all just been crushed up in a hand, its remains spilling out from the giant's palms and falling ruined and destroyed to the asphalt ground. Glass cracked beneath metal boots, wood scraping against the cobblestone as I pushed some aside with my feet, following in Balder's footsteps as he whistled onwards, sounding like a damn bird, my eyes darting back and forth, keeping watch of those windows, those empty, dark doorways…
And it was all still wrong.
Still so terribly wrong.
Wrong.
Nearer now, the statue loomed even closer, its dark bronze winking in the sun's golden glare, the vines and branches of lush green tight and strangling around its perfect form. It was even wilder up-close, weeds and flowers and budding gems, vines of the thickest green wrapping around the bronze man's throat, writhing about it's entire body, a poor, old statue devoured away by the wilds of nature herself. Little red flowers bloomed at his feet, and vines trapped his wrists to the pedestal, like chains of a dire man, thorns and branches crawling up his chest, strangling his neck-
And his head, his almost consumed, his slightly free, his dark, handsome bronze head was turned at me.
Staring at me.
Right at me.
At me.
Wait.
Wasn't the statue looking over the river?
I mean, I had moved; I was now in front of one of those houses, a burned, ruined house, deep in the sea of debris and ruin, completely out of angle from the golden river beyond-
And yet the statue's head was now turned in my direction, exactly at my angle.
Looking right at me.
Oh God.
My mind froze.
Oh God.
I yelled.
"I think the statue's looking at me!"
Balder's whistle cut off mid-note, followed by a deep, rumbling sigh, a golden sigh echoing over the silence of the forgotten street, rustling in the wind.
Bronze eyes stared right at me.
A shiver rippled down my spine.
"Would you stop being so paranoid, me dame?"
My heart screamed.
"I. Am. Serious!"
"As am I. Now, me dame, if you don't shut up in the next few seconds, I'm coming back there and-"
All of a sudden, the ground rumbled.
What?
Beneath me, the earth began to purr, a dark, long deep purr, a tingling echo, a strangled thunder, the very earth beneath my boots trembling like a growing swell; vibrations, shuddering, quavering vibrations shook the earth, running through my boots, through my very bones, a dark deep drum booming a war cry in the darkest recesses beneath the earth. It was like a tremor, a low, unnerving tremor, the debris of glass and wood and broken metal shivering upon the earth as the ground wobbled in the slightest dance, ash quavering upon the black road. On either side of the road, the ruined wrecks of houses began to shiver as well, a horrible sight of leaning, crumbling buildings swaying in the deep tremor, my very heart trembling as the deep growl echoed throughout the world, like the waking roar of some terrible beast, some hellion, buried deep, deep beneath the earth-
And then, it stopped.
It stopped.
Completely.
Just like that.
Like it hadn't even happened at all.
Oh God.
For a second, I froze, staring down at the ground, waiting for it to shake again, to tremor all over again, to make any sign of life…
But there was nothing.
Nothing at all.
Not even a squeak.
A tremor?
I looked over at Balder.
He was standing where he had been, a little ahead of me, deep in the rubble and debris, but now, he was turned back towards me, his golden curls laughing in the warm wind, his bronze skin gold and lovely in the sun's glare. Will was still in his arms, his black coat flapping like the curtains above, his dark hair wailing in the summer breeze. Dusky arms held him safe, untouched by the sudden trembling of the earth, protected by the tall golden god-
Who now stared at me with wild, panicked eyes.
Terrified eyes.
Terrified.
"Balder?"
And then, the world exploded.
I screamed.
Will.
Everything seemed to move once.
Everything.
The sky, the earth, all senses and all life….
Everything went tumbling, everything went heaving, the black cobblestone road writhing and lurching, rising up before me as the ground beneath it pitched up towards the ashen heavens, my body collapsing helplessly as the world spun out of control, my heart screaming in utter panic-
And then, the earth exploded, flying upwards, tearing towards the dawn skies, ripping the world apart. Everything was chaos, pure, horrid chaos, earth and rock shooting up towards the skies as the ground ripped open, smoke and ash bellowing up in a wondrous rage, screams filling the world. Debris flew up, the ground beneath my very feet exploding up towards the skies, as if the centre of the earth had blown up, had burst forth, had boomed, the very ground of the earth tearing away from some terrible monster lurching towards the surface. Towers of screaming rock shot up towards the morning skies, everything bursting, everything blowing up, the entire world screaming with insanity as my body fell in the chaos, the earth breaking, tearing, erupting into a wild, horrible madness. Broken glass shot up towards the skies, exploding with the earth, smoke and ash and wood and metal and earth destroying the skies as everything, everything erupted into absolute hell, my screams tearing out in utter horror as the world fell into chaos-
Something shot of our ground.
Something terrible.
Something so very terrible.
Will.
Ripping out of the exploding ground, breaking through the madness and the insanity, the pure uproar of hell, were vines, giant vines, thick, black vines, tall, dark fingers, monster branches of the earth itself writhing up towards the skies. Shadows of thick vine monsters, giant black shapes of terrible snakes broke out, surging with the erupting earth, rocks and ash spilling forth, cruel, horrifying shadows; they were massive, big, colossal monstrous vines, ogres of the deepest black ripping out the erupting earth like snakes rearing their heads, ugly, horrible things, demons of Hell themselves. Thick, dark limbs, headless and misshapen, soared over the metal roofs, ash and dirt crumbling from their massive bodies as they tore up into the skies, whipping back in the warm wind. Sunlight, beautiful, peaceful sunlight crested upon them, kissing them, but the giant vines swayed with such horror, such terrible gait, their dark shadows towering above the ruined earth, writhing with such horrid life; they knocked back, moving in the ashen sky, in the bellowing smoke and raining earth, the largest shadows of the rocking world, tearing through the skies like a dozen blades, rippling, trembling, groaning monsters. Earth spilled away from them, their ends pointed and raw, their bodies thick around as ships, their shadows black and cold as they tore from the earth and up into the wretched skies, silent and cruel as death itself. Life rippled in them, as groans echoed away from their desolate bodies, their thick heads swaying in the warm wind as they curled and unfurled above the screaming earth, giant, terrible, awful monsters.
Giant vines.
Monster vines.
Monster vines ripping out of the earth.
Oh God.
I screamed.
It was hopeless scream, a lost cry, the sounds of the cracking earth and screaming rock muzzling away my desperate yell as the dark, cruel shadows twisted away in the raining sky, groaning and writhing, giant beasts, coiling away against the blazing sunrise; my lung strangled, and my heart screamed, but no one could hear me, no one could hear my horror, my pure, wild terror as the massive beast lurched and heaved towards the sky before me, tearing through the world, destroying everything. Blood burned as the giant dark shadows danced in the skies, waking to the terrible, terrible world-
And then, in the chaos of hell, in the utter madness, the giant vines ripping from the earth, tearing from the rock, swaying giants in the frightful world, froze still.
Absolutely still.
Will.
And then, with a loud groan, like the felling of a giant tree, the vines shot down, dark and horrible, and crashed against one of the ruined houses of the wrecked street.
Oh God.
It happened so quickly, so very terribly, that for a moment, my scream went silent, and my breath went cold, my heart freezing within my chest as I watched the monster before me destroy the world…
Destroy it all.
Oh God.
Groaning, black vines, thick and cruel, wrapped around that wrecked house, that crumbling house, strangling bricks with its icy black limbs, vines of snakes wrapping around the desolate building, like a serpent around its prey. Vines writhed, coiling and coiling and twisting and twisting, stabbing through dark windows, pouring through the empty doorway, twisting and slithering like snakes furious and raging, moving dark shadows writhing so quickly that my heart could barely beat, my mind could barely think, my lungs could barely breathe-
The world froze-
And then, the house crumbled.
Oh God.
The vines strangled, the monstrous, hideous vines, and the ruined brick house of old London collapsed to the ground in a heap of bricks and wood, crumbling inwards, throttled to dust; smoke bellowed up into the air, the wild, chaotic air, as the house fell apart in the grasp of the monster vines, crushed and destroyed, reduced to ash. The earth shook, and the awful rumble of the collapsing house tore above the rattling earth, my heart, my breath frozen at the sight of the crushed house, the devoured home…
And I couldn't think.
I couldn't even breathe.
Will.
I was on my back now, and the earth still lurched beneath me, the dust of the crumbled building pluming up into the horrid skies as the road tilted and pitched and rolled with agony, earth still exploding, rocks still flying, my hands clawing against the erupting earth as I stared up at the writhing monsters. Tears burned in my eyes and I could no longer scream, terror, pure, dreadful terror cutting through my throat, silencing me forever as the black vines stabbed up into the smoky sky, glass and ash and dirt raining down, falling to the twisting earth. My hands pushed me back, back and back and back; but I couldn't think, I couldn't understand, Will's face flashing before my eyes as the house crumbled away in the grasp of the monster vines-
And then, something hit my back.
Something cold.
Oh God.
With a yelp, I tore my eyes away from the collapsed house, from the coiling enormous vines, and directly upwards, tilting my head back against the erupting, pitching earth-
And into the eyes of the bronze, vine-covered statue.
His wide, terrified eyes.
His screaming eyes.
His alive eyes.
Alive.
His lips tore open in mortal agony.
Alive.
"Run!"
I ran.
The whole world was ash, smoke, dirt and the earth pitched and rolled, the shadows of the vines rolling over the madness as the ground erupted at corners and turns, debris flying in the air, chaos screaming into the world; everything pushed against me, everything clawing me back, back towards the monster, back towards it's horrid, horrid grip, sounds of thunder and roars echoing away as more vines erupted from the ground, smoke shooting, madness laughing, houses crumbling away, their ashes rolling over me. More vines were exploding from the erupting earth, groans of old rumbling through the air as the ground pitched and rolled, insanity burning, raging across the skies as the world spun on it's tethers, complete and utter chaos. I couldn't see where I was going; there was too much smoke, too much falling debris, earth and sand and glass and wood raining all about me, burning my eyes, the dust of bricks choking my throat as I pushed the madness, lungs wrecked with sobs as the world erupted-
But I had to keep on running.
I had to find Will.
I had to find Balder.
I had to do get out-
A hand shot out the madness, a dark, dusky hand-
I screamed-
And then Balder grabbed my arm and pulled me forward, lurching through the smoky storm, racing away from the monstrous vines.
Will.
He was a golden blaze in the mad world, a giant, warm bright light, leading me through, saving me, and in his arms, Will still hung, dark hair wild in the utter chaos; he wasn't asleep anymore, for I could see his eyes, his dark, horrified eyes peeking over Balder's shoulder, staring right at me, a limp, weak hand reaching out for me-
But there was too much madness.
Too much insanity.
Too much terror.
Will.
A vine crashed against the nearest building, destroying it in one swipe.
Balder screamed.
"Come on!"
There was no where to go, no where to possibly go, debris and dust falling to the earth, falling down upon us, wood crashing against our backs, ash burning in our eyes, the monster devouring and destroying behind us as the earth tilted and staggered, heaving and tottering, madness ensuing. Balder's grip was fiery, pulling me, dragging me, my feet skidding the staggering earth, wading through the erupting ground, the torn road, smoke strangling my lungs; we were running nowhere, running through the pandemonium, the vile vines whipping and groaning behind us, houses crumbling with roars, my heart screaming as I stared away into Will's horrified eyes-
And then, Balder swerved off to the left, pulling me harshly through the raining turmoil.
Will's eyes screamed.
Will.
"Hurry up, dame!"
With a harsh pull, Balder, Will and I dove into one of the empty doorways, one of the desolate houses at the end of the street, near the edge of the Thames; I didn't had time to think, to react, to argue against Balder's decision to dive into one of the houses, to fight against the fuming adrenaline-
Because the madness was still happening.
The world was still being destroyed.
Will.
Darkness enveloped.
It was a cold darkness, a bitter, icy, cruel darkness, and as we stumbled into the house, the cold hallway stretched forward in pitch darkness, its ceiling rattling and trembling with the might of the erupting earth. Glass was littered all about it's marble floor, splinters scattered like petals, and in the icy gloom, everything was still trembling with the quivers of the ground beneath, broken lamps clanging an odd tune in the silent, dead house.
A child's toy sat at the foot of the steps, a frozen smile in the horrid world.
Oh God.
Groans and roars screamed in the lurching madness behind.
Smoke billowed and plumed with each crumbling roar.
Darkness laughed.
Oh God.
I snatched my arm away.
"We can't be in here!" I was screaming, the marble ground beneath cracking and lurching, my knees struggling to keep a balance, the darkness hanging all around as I glared up at my companions, terror shrieking in my voice; before me, Balder was pacing up and down the dark, lurching hallway, the smoky light spilling through the doorway, trembling against his large form. Somehow, Will was now slumped down on the stairs, gasping for breath, pale and terrified, the child's doll leaning against his leg as he rested upon the barrister and stared out at us, confusion screaming in his eyes. Dark brown hair danced against his breath, grey with ash and dirt.
Balder paced like a maniac.
Groans and rumbles echoed through the rocking world.
A crack splintered across the wall before us.
Oh God.
I rushed to Will.
He didn't see me, not really, and I bent down and cupped his chin, looking at his dirtied face, his terrified beautiful eyes, his chest heaving up and down as he stared out the smoky doorway, his lips raw, split at the end. My own hand was dirty with ash and soil against his cheek, and he felt warm against my palm, his dark hair shivering, his black coat shuddering with the surging quakes, his beautiful dark eyes lost in some world of terror and confusion. His dark eyes darted from the door to me, frantic and mad, and my heart sobbed at the sight of him, the poor sight of my Will-
Because he was supposed to be safe.
He was supposed to be well again.
Not here.
Not scared.
Not confused.
Will.
His voice whispered in the shaking dark.
"Joey."
The darkness rumbled.
I bit back a sob.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, leaning against him, pressing my nose against his as I stared down into those wild, frightened beautiful eyes,the world spinning and lurching, the madness laughing, salty tears wetting my lips as he breathed against my skin, hot and beautiful and alive, short and gaspy, "Will, I'm so sorry-"
"Are…Are you alright?" he cut me off, and with a weak struggle, he reached up one pale hand and grasped my own hand at his chin, his long fingers wrapping around my weathered hand, his terrified eyes flickering shut as he pulled in slower, thicker breaths, breathing out against my lips, his chest against mine. His lips were quivering, and in the darkness, in the horrid, pitching gloom, he leaned in closer to me, his grip weak but still alive, his breath short but still warm. Dark hair kissed against my cheek.
Roars filled the world.
Blood burned.
Will.
I licked my lips.
"Define alright."
His dark brown eyes fluttered open, beautiful, beautiful dark.
"Not dead."
A chuckle.
"Not bad then."
A little smile.
"Good."
And there, in the lurching darkness, the impeding doom, the mad, mad, dying world, we just sat and stared into each other's eyes, forgetting the chaos, the madness, the horrible roars.
Forgetting the world.
Will.
Balder's voice fell like a gunshot.
"Oi! Lovebirds! A little focus would be nice!"
With a growl, I turned away from Will, and with some terrible effort, I pulled out of his grip and stalked towards the golden god, the floor pitching beneath us, growls vibrating through the world; Will let go of me limply, and his touch fell away, his warmth fading away as I refocused, striding over the lurching earth, skidding over the rubble and ash. Roars of crumbling buildings moaned outside, as dark shadows whipped back and forth, the smoky light, the grey faint light of the horrid scene spilling through the doorway and playing across Will's beaten face. Dark eyes stared out at me, lost and confused.
My insides staggered.
My heart burned.
Will.
The house groaned.
My voice felt like sawdust.
"We're trapped, you idiot!" I screamed, as the marble ground cracked beneath us, the ceiling swaying above, sounds of furniture and glass crashing on the floor above as the house shook with the agony of the destruction outside, smoke spilling, shoving down our throats, Balder's golden curls screaming with terror, "Why the fuck did you bring us in here-"
"I'm sorry, but do you want to stay out there?" he was screaming back too, and in the madness, he pushed his face against mine, his blue eyes wild and panicked, slightly insane, Will silent behind me as the house rocked and lurched, adrenaline screaming in my veins, terror strangling at my heart, "Because you are welcome to go outside by all means, me dame-"
"We are trapped-"
"I KNOW-"
"Then get us the hell out of here!"
"I'm trying, Joey! Now, shut up-"
The ceiling crashed down.
Will.
The roof fell through, the very skies above our heads, and with a scream, I crashed down, tumbling to the ground, rock and ash smashing down upon me, the sky slamming me to the earth; pain exploded, and my vision cut off, smoke engulfing me, the ash devouring me, the world pressing down upon me and my scream stifled in the dust. Pain screamed against the back of my head, a thunderous, flashing pain, a raw throb, and I tried to open my eyes, to overcome it, to ignore it, to reduce it to nothing; my limbs screamed, and my back lurched, fingers clawing through the darkness as the dust chortled my neck, everything blanking out, everything darkening to night-
Somewhere, in the madness, I heard Will scream in my name.
Pain writhed through my blood.
"Will!"
Smoke laughed.
Will.
For a moment, all I could feel was pain, horrible, lurching pain, twisting, cracking pain, my eyes slowly tearing awake as dust bit into them, ash shoving my throat, the dark world clearing away into the hazy blur of glass and wood, of rubble and debris, of wreck and ruin, of utter destruction, my legs trapped and helpless, my fingers clawing helplessly-
And then, something grabbed my ankle.
Oh God.
A scream ripped from my lips.
Will.
Something pulled me.
I couldn't understand at first, couldn't possible give it a thought, my mind jolted with pain, my tongue dry with ash, horrible, creeping pain screaming throughout my body as the world whirled past me, a blur of grey and black, the hand around my ankle strong and firm as it pulled me through the mind-numbing chaos-
And then, I was flying, up in the air, my aching body ripping away from the earth as I was lifted up, ankle first, my hands stabbing down towards the rubble, the lurching ground, grasping at the smoke. My scream echoed, and my heart yelled with terror as the world flew away from me, the smoky skies devouring me, the ground falling, plummeting away; my body was helpless, in the aching pain, I tried to kick free, to lash away, throwing back my body, twisting my arms, pushing back with the legs, fighting with all the pain I had. The grip never let me go, and the world just rushed all around, my blood roaring, my mind screaming as I flew up towards the sky, shooting upside down, my scream tearing through the world…
The world froze.
Oh God.
All around me, the world stopped moving, and there I hung, suspended in mid-air, hanging up-side down, staring down at the ruined world; my hair fell down in a tangled mess, and the black robe fell around my body, my arms hanging down, lifeless and bloody. Below, the street laid ruined and destroyed, the houses crumbled, the road shattered, wood and ash and bricks scattered in an endless lane. Everything hung upside down, the ground staring up at me with it's ruined, destroyed cry, the entire street laid to utter ruins, houses and road reduced to nothing more then ash; a single house still stood, half ruined, half crumbled, staggering under it's own weight, it's slanted metal roof gleaming in the sunlight as I hung slightly above it, a tall, horrible, lonely tower in a sea of desolation. Everywhere, madness ensued, and my mind screamed with utter pain and fear…
And then a groan moaned throughout the world, a deep, low, agonising rumble.
Oh God.
I looked down.
Below me, spewing out of the earth, reaching out of the grounds, tearing out of the earth itself were the vine monsters, the giant branches, writhing like snakes, dancing in the warm wind. There were so many of them, so many dark, leeching vines, giant monstrous vines, tearing up into the sky, coiling all about me, writhing into the smoky heavens. They were all rippling, all dancing, all so horrible and dark and powerful, groaning with the rumbles of the earth, ash and dirt streaming away, stabbing up into the dusty skies, laughing up into the world; it was a vine that was holding me, a thick, dark vine, wrapped around my ankle, harsh wood digging into my skin, writhing as it held me strong, hanging me upside down. Dark shadows whipped in the world, screaming to the skies. Monstrous creepers danced all around, twirling in the smoky ruins.
Vines laughed to the world.
Smoke twirled in the wind.
Shadows danced.
I groaned.
"Fuck."
+The End+
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