Chapter 8: Yami no Sonata, part 3
With him next to me, it's not so bad. The ground is uneven, but there is a definite path; the ceiling is low enough that Kurapika has to bend down a little, but wide enough for both of us to walk side by side.
Still, the gruesome skeletons hanging out at all angles, the stench of dead things, and the hideous green light coming from an unseen source, all speak to me, call to me, and play, over and over, that piece of music I heard seven years ago, in my head.
Involuntarily, I start shaking uncontrollably. He notices when I am forced to stop dead still in the middle of the path.
"Cold?" It is, again, a question that is not a question. The answer is obvious.
I shake my head. He regards me for a minute and then goes down on one knee as he pulls me in to a tight embrace.
In my ear, he begins humming, lowly, the beginning of Claire de Lune. I close my eyes and concentrate on that sound, forcing the other song out of my head.
After a minute, he draws away. "Can you continue?" he asks. I nod. He stands back up, gingerly, and we walk on.
Then...hellish laughter. It cackles around, one burst filling the entire cavern with echoes. Wondering if it's in my head, I look up at Kurapika. From the frown on his features and the cautious glancing around, he hears it, too. As the echoes begin to die away, the furrow between his brows deepens.
Without warning, a whistling through the air. I don't need to warn him; he has already flattened himself on the floor of the cave, dragging me down with him.
Several old, rotting spears fly through the air, passing inches above us.
There is another silence, then that cackling again. We both cautiously raise our heads.
"Is there somebody else here?" I whisper to him. He shakes his head grimly. "No...it was a trap. Look." He points ahead and to the left where, at the wall between two tunnels splitting up into a fork, there are three skeletons, arms outstretched, rocking back and forth from where they are suspended from the ceiling.
As we pick ourselves up, I ask him, "Which one?"
He sighs. "I can't use the Dowsing Chain. What do you think?"
I close my eyes, listening. Although the Nen has cut off my acute hearing, I can still sense...something...in the tunnel to the right. Something deep in my being stretches out and tells me that.
He notices me looking that direction, and even without a word, he goes first.
The tunnel gets smaller and smaller; soon it is so tiny that we both have to crawls on our stomachs. In fact, slimmer that he is, he has to pull me along at a certain point. Then, suddenly, ahead of me, he stands up.
"We're here," he says in a hushed tone, his voice echoing in what is obviously a much larger tunnel. He turns back to help me out.
But then he gasps in horror, red eyes flashing. And then he disappears.
"KURAPIKA!" My voice sounds in the room. It comes back to me, terrified. I haul myself out with much effort, and rush forward.
He lies there, on the ground, as if in a deep sleep. In front of me, there is a wisp, a faint reminder of anguishing memories. It barely has a corporeal form; it laughs maniacally at me.
"So you," in a slithering voice, "dare to come to destroy the Yami no Sonata, eh?" Again, those notes, in my head! Even though I cover my ears, they do not cease. I look back up at the vision.
It hovers like smoke, not pure smoke, but the gritty smoke that comes out of factories, above a scroll, laid out on red velvet, encircled by a halo of golden yellow light. The edges are crinkled, outlined with silver; a scarlet ribbon holds it together.
I look back over at Kurapika, still unconscious. The voice chuckles again, lowly. "Him? Maybe he's dead. Maybe he's alive. Maybe burning the Sonata will kill him. What do you think?"
I stoop next to him and brush the hair out of his eyes softly. His eyebrows draw together slightly as I do so, and I can hear him breathing. I close my eyes in relief, and walk over to that scroll determinedly.
The smoke-like vision hisses as I draw nearer. "Are you sure that's the wisest thing to do, child? Why don't you take your friend and flee, now, before I kill you where you stand?"
I boldly hover one hand above the scroll, right through that smoke. It dissipates, then reforms, higher.
"What do you think you're doing?" Suddenly the voice is higher, drier, thinner.
"You. Are a liar. And I already know this," I say. And then grasp that scroll in my own hand.
The voice shrieks, like the painful laughter of hyenas, as the smoke whooshes and disappears. I grasp the torch just above and hold the end to the scroll. It seems to resist the flame, and then, all at once, goes up in scorching heat.
I drop it onto the velvet cushion it was on to begin with and step back as the whole display goes on fire. And then...as though a great eraser is wiping over parts of my memory, I feel blankness overcome my mind, my body. Lightness. Lightheadedness really...and the floor, it's rushing up to meet me...
Author's Notes: Couldn't help it, had to update in the middle of the week.