Everything was still.
For several seconds the world was still and it was suffocating Kirsty, the way the hand gripping her neck with fingernails pressing against her skin threatened to suffocate her. Her eyes moved from the woman who was apparently named Angelique to the Prince, who glared at her with murder in his eyes. A nail pushed inward and Kirsty winced.
"Let her go." Gone was the gentle voice of a moment before; gone was the softness he seemed to reserve for Kirsty alone. The being before her was ready to tear this Cenobite asunder.
"I am not Cenobite, whelp," the woman murmured with a coolness like she was remarking on the weather. She was in Kirsty's head now, and so Kirsty fixated her attention on the two of them, forgetting everything else. "I will admit, Cenobite, though you have poor taste in potential consorts, you do choose such pretty toys. Cooperate with me as we planned and I might let you keep her. Perhaps even alive."
Kirsty swallowed, feeling a sting at the corners of her eyes. He did not look at her.
"Well?" Another nail dug into her skin. "Speak, Son of Leviathan."
"Do not address me as some mongrel," he snarled, "You have the box. If you believe the portal will open, then open it." She laughed, a sound that sent ice down Kirsty's spine, and squeezed a little tighter. Kirsty drew in a shallow breath.
"You think I've forgotten the rules of my own domain?" She held the box up. "I would not approach the gates of the Labyrinth with empty arms." She looked away, into the darkness, and cold understanding seized Kirsty. "I know you girls are out there."
"No," Kirsty started, but her neck was squeezed again. She saw the Prince start to move, but the first nail drew a drop of red and he froze.
"Yes." She could see Tiffany and Terri in the shadows, stepping out. "Do you want her to live?" Tiffany nodded. "Go inside, straight to the basement, and wait for me there." They looked at each other, and Kirsty started to shake her head and mouth no. Angelique squeezed again with a jab of her little nail and Kirsty couldn't hold back the strained yelp of pain. "Now."
Tiffany urged Terri forward and started after her; Kirsty watched them and mouthed I'm sorry when Tiffany looked at her. Tiffany signed one word before disappearing behind the door.
"What did she say?" Angelique asked.
"It looked like a wave," Kirsty said, voice faint. "Please don't hurt them..."
"Oh, I won't lay a finger on them," Angelique said, "that is for the Labyrinth to enjoy." She looked back to the Prince. "Now, Cenobite, I'm feeling generous. Cooperate with me, and I'll spare the two of you for the time being. You can come home as you intended and help me bring in a new era of the Labyrinth, one expanding beyond the doors and into this realm of uncultured flesh. Defy me," Kirsty felt her face going cold, and she gulped at the air once and tried to swallow as much as she could, "and I'll snap her pretty little neck, then bring you home as an example of what happens to those who stand in my way." She smiled, though Kirsty couldn't quite see it. "Your choice."
She was lightheaded; she couldn't see his face for how her eyes clouded over. Distantly, like a memory, she heard his voice.
"... Very well, Angelique. Spare her."
"Good boy." Her neck was released and Kirsty fell to her knees, gasping for air. She collapsed onto her side, feeling a jab in her side from her coat pocket but ignoring it because she needed air, she needed to breathe. She looked up enough to see the two Labyrinth dwellers stare at each other with a cold gaze, even as Angelique reached up to stroke his jaw.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Kirsty looked at the ground; the concrete was littered with splinters and dented metal. None of them were sharp enough to cut skin, or she might have tried to get this woman's ankle. She fumbled for her pocket, but her body resisted, still drained from lack of oxygen. She looked back up at the Prince.
"Give me the box, Angelique," he said, and she hummed.
"Not yet. First the basement." She gestured to the door. "Remember, she's still right here." Kirsty felt a heel nudge her neck, and she fought back a whimper as it dug into the bruise forming on her skin. She saw the shifting of black leather as her gaze fell, the sight of him starting to kneel. "Leave her. You can tend to your little girlfriend after the door is opened." A moment's pause, and he rose again, before turning to the door. He stood before it for several seconds, and Kirsty could vaguely see a look of intense concentration on his face.
He closed his eyes.
"Well? Open the door." Angelique stepped away from her and closer to him. "Don't keep me waiting." Another moment's long, unbearable pause.
"Yes, Angelique."
He opened the doors and Kirsty saw metal fly; chains and hooks shot forward, digging into Angelique's skin and dress and face. She screamed, but to Kirsty's horror it was in rage; she watched as Angelique gripped the chains and ripped them from her, tearing away flesh and leaving latch red splotches across her that dripped to the floor in slick crimson. Angelique laughed and dropped the chains, and Kirsty propped herself up in time to see the Prince take a step back.
"Cute!" Her voice was something else now, the woman's melting with a monster's into something horrible and loud, "But I have had enough inconveniences!" Sharp claws on an oversized hand reached forward, and she swung.
The Prince was sent backwards across the concrete, collapsing in the middle of the parking lot.
"My patience has run out," she snarled, "I will return for the two of you when I am Queen." Angelique stepped through the doors and into the darkness, and only when she was out of sight did Kirsty scramble to her feet and run to the Prince.
He was lying on his back, by the time Kirsty made it he was already sitting up, trying to get to his feet. Kirsty's hands shook as she helped him up, eyes taking in scratch marks across his leather robes, long and red and angry.
"They will heal," he muttered, looking frustrated. "but I am weaker than I expected."
"I'm sorry," Kirsty whispered, looking at them and at him. She squeezed her right hand in a fist as the other reached up to touch his jaw. "I didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Do not apologize for her," he said, his eyes on her again. "You could not have known that would happen." Kirsty swallowed as he looked down at her with those empty eyes, that forgiving expression. "I will let her tear me apart before she touches you again."
"I know," she whispered, and pulled him a bit closer. He acquiesced, leaning towards her face. "Just like you did before. That's why I'm sorry." She saw a flicker of confusion, of questioning.
"Sorry for what, Kirsty?" She leaned in and kissed him; she felt him relax the slightest bit against her, start to return it, when she spoke again.
"For this."
And her right hand joined the other one to his face, the pin slipping between her fingers and into his forehead. He seized up in her arms and she cupped his neck to kiss him again as he convulsed, feeling electricity course from him and into her, not letting go even as she felt she might burst.
I'm sorry, she thought, willing her words into his mind, I'm sorry. Please come back to me. The shocks were growing unbearable. She held onto him. I love you.
Another shock and she was forced to let go, staggering back, legs shaking as she watched. He stood trembling, back arched to much, head craned up, face twisted in a grip of unfathomable agony. His eyes opened and she saw them flash white, then blue, then black.
He stood there, stone-still, until he drew in a breath; and then his body shifted as if falling into place, posture soldier-stiff, head held aloft. He looked at her, and Kirsty could have wept with relief as his eyes - his emotive, curious eyes - took her in.
"...Kirsty," he said carefully, that controlled voice she remembered. "What did Tiffany sign to you?" Somehow, Kirsty smiled as she copied the move; a left-to-right sweep with both hands, arcing up and down as she did.
"It means plan," Kirsty said, "She has a plan."
I swear to high heaven I'm not just following whatever gets suggested, I've had this moment planned for months. Ah well, great minds think alike. Onward!
-Inky
