Chapter 2
Death's Pass
Chara
After quickly jotting down the information provided by Amy, she stealthily slips out of my room.
"Good luck Chara. I know you can make a difference." She whispers through the door, disappearing into the hall.
As I stood there, clutching the notes in my hand, doubt crashes against the shores of my mind, eroding my resolve. Am I making the right choice? It feels selfish to question the path I've chosen, but the weight of the task ahead looms over me. It would be so much easier to just sit down and shut up, but my determination remains resolute. Amy's words echo in my mind, igniting my purpose. A profound need to confront the truth engulfs me, leaving me with no choice but to fulfill my purpose.
I take the information that Amy gave me and stuff it in my pocket. She gave me exact directions on how to get past the gates of Mt Ebott and head up the mountain on a specific trail. There, high on the mountain, lies an untouched hole, unaffected by the Barrier. Its depth makes it unlikely for anyone to survive a fall, but Amy's confidence in my Determination gives me assurance to embark on this challenging journey.
Recalling Amy's descriptions, I envision the path ahead. She spoke of a winding trail, where, precisely at 5 o'clock, the sun's rays converge on a cluster of vibrant yellow flowers, casting a surreal radiance. Taking a deep breath, I gather my essentials, including the precious collection of my research on monsters. Each document and note carries a piece of Amy's casual wisdom and infectious enthusiasm. As I prepare to embark on this challenging journey, I can almost hear her voice in my ear, reminding me to embrace the unknown and to find joy in the pursuit of knowledge.
My head feels like a vessel overflowing with conflicting thoughts and emotions... How could humans justify waging a war on monsters based on mere possibilities, while imprisoning and slaughtering the very beings they deemed dangerous? The hypocrisy of it all weighs heavily on my conscience, but I need to press on.
The halls were eerily quiet, but I detected faint movements in the stairwell nearby. Amy had told me how she got in and how I could get out. In the Commons hall on the second floor, there was a large sliding window panel that she had climbed up a tree to access. Problem was, I had to find a way to the second floor from the fourth floor without getting spotted. They knew who they were looking for.
I went down the stairwell at the other side of my dorm, not hearing any activity from there, and headed downwards. Trying to step as softly as I could, the old spiraling stairs of the school couldn't help but creak beneath my feet. As I descended further, I heard more activity. Footsteps echoed all around, the sound of gear clanking against legs. I reached my stop at the second floor and slipped through the door. People across the hall were looking around, some standing guard at the central stairs.
In that moment, everything became a blur. My senses heightened as adrenaline coursed through my veins. I mapped out a path, standing behind a support pillar in-between dorm rooms. The police talked amongst themselves, unaware of the imminent danger. Taking advantage of their distraction, I slinked around the pillars, inching closer to the Commons hall in the middle. The policemen standing at the stairs were called down, giving me a chance to make a run for it.
My heart thumped in my chest, a rapid staccato, urging me forward. No time. Move! I sprinted towards the windows at the end of the hall, knowing that time was running out. Typically, these windows were meant to be locked, but these dorms were so poorly maintained that I doubted they cared. I slid open the window, the loud scraping noise echoing through the hall. Panic surged through me; they would surely be on my tail now.
Abandoning any notion of stealth, I slipped through the opening and maneuvered my way into the welcoming embrace of the tree's sturdy branches. Every second counted as the heightened activity intensified. I had to get out of there as fast as I could. With a burst of determination, I slid down the tree and reached the back wall. Covered in foliage, I used the ivy growing on the brick to climb up and hopped over the wall. And now, I ran like my life depended on it.
With Mt. Ebott as my destination, I dashed through the vibrant streets of Downtown, the bustling atmosphere mirroring the urgency pulsating within me. The scorching midday sun beat down mercilessly, casting its fiery rays upon the worn pavement. The blaring sirens reverberated off the brick buildings, filling the air with an oppressive atmosphere. Thoughts swirled in my mind, but I forcefully pushed them aside. There was no time for reflection or doubt; I had to keep moving forward.
As I raced through Ebott's transforming downtown, where echoes of old-world charm mingled with the signs of progress, I caught glimpses of perplexed onlookers. Their fleeting gazes carried traces of judgment and apprehension. The blaring sirens sliced through the air, scattering the bystanders in a desperate scramble, granting me a fleeting respite from their prying eyes. I embraced their hurried dispersal, refusing to navigate the depths of ignorance and conformity that cloaked this town.
Grateful for the respite, I veered into an alley, slipping into a parallel street away from the main thoroughfare. The looming figure of Mt. Ebott served as a stark reminder of the mysteries and dangers that lay ahead. Despite this, I knew that the answers I sought were hidden within the mountain's depths. My breath grew shallow, my stamina waning as exhaustion threatened to consume me. Desperation compelled me to find refuge, but stopping meant risking capture. Then, a glimmer of hope appeared before me—a door left slightly ajar.
Casting a cautious glance around for any signs of the pursuing police, I slowed my pace and approached the inviting door. Slipping inside, I found temporary shelter, shielded from prying eyes and the relentless chase. In the temporary safety of the hidden space, I took a moment to catch my breath, my mind still racing with the magnitude of what lay ahead.
I take in my surroundings. I'm in the back rooms of a retail space. With the lights on, and the area looking well maintained, I know my time in here was limited. Snaking around the area, I eye an employee bathroom and go to it, knowing I will likely be undisturbed. I quickly and quietly enter and lock the door.
"Fuck. Fuck! What have I gotten myself into?!" I mutter under my breath, the weight of the situation crashing down on me. Fear and realization intertwine, sending a surge of anxiety coursing through my veins. "Why couldn't I just… Ugh, fuck!"
Collapsing against the cold tiled wall, I try to push aside the griminess of the surroundings, knowing that more urgent matters demand my attention. Through the closed door, the wailing sirens grow closer, their piercing sound permeating the air. I squeeze my eyes shut, silently pleading for them to pass me by unnoticed. The deafening wail reaches its crescendo and abruptly comes to a halt, its silence amplifying the uncertainty that hangs in the air.
How did they know I'm in here? Do they even know? My mind swirls trying to assess the gravity of the situation I've put myself in.
Summoning my courage and pushing aside my anxieties, I rise to my feet and cautiously open the door. Sneaking closer to the front, I strain my eyes to assess my surroundings and locate the position of both myself and the pursuing police. As I pass by shelves filled with merchandise—shirts, pins, water bottles—it becomes evident that I'm in a gift shop of sorts. The irony of having a gift shop dedicated to a mountain like Mt. Ebott isn't lost on me; it mirrors the oddity and ignorance that pervades this town.
Approaching the door that leads to the store, I cautiously peer out and catch a glimpse of an employee wearing a "MT. EBOTT GIFT SHOP" shirt. My goal lies outside. The rest of the shop appears deserted, except for the employee who seems engrossed in his phone, oblivious to the unfolding situation.
A few officers enter the shop, engaging in a hushed conversation with the employee. One of them introduces himself in the most cliché manner, whipping out his wallet to reveal his ID.
"Hello, I'm Officer Adam," he announces, his voice tinged with authority. "My team is currently searching for a fugitive, and we suspect she might be in this vicinity. Mind if we have a look around?"
"She," I scoff inwardly, frustrated by the ignorance and prejudice of the police.
"Sure, whatever," the indifferent employee replies, displaying a complete lack of concern for the situation at hand.
Realizing the situation, I swiftly retreat to the area where I entered, ensuring to close the door silently to avoid raising suspicions. Casting a cautious glance in all directions, I plunge back into a sprint, my footsteps propelled by urgency and determination.
The road abruptly curved, guiding me back into the bustle of the main thoroughfare. With a firm determination to avoid any unnecessary encounters, I quickly veered off the beaten path, darting through a dense tapestry of trees and foliage that bordered the trail to the park. With agility born from desperation, I effortlessly navigate through the natural obstacles, driven by a sense of urgency. Leaping over a metal fence, I steal a moment to survey my surroundings. Glancing at my watch, I note the time: 4:45. The minutes slip away, and I know I must ascend the mountain swiftly.
I grip my notes tightly, a bittersweet smile playing at the corners of my lips as memories of Amy's unwavering support flood my thoughts. She had a way of turning every journey into a thrilling shared adventure. I quickly scan my scribbled description:
"The park's far edge, away from the mountain. Look for a taped-off path with a skull symbol."
With Amy's spirit driving me, I go toward the park's edge, blending into the foliage to evade prying eyes. Slowing my pace, I conserve my energy, mindful of my chest's burning ache and pounding heart. The weight of this daunting task presses upon me, threatening to extinguish my flicker of hope. Doubt and exhaustion mingle as I contemplate the implications of my final stand. Uncertainty looms, casting a shadow over my resolve.
"They have to know where I'm headed," I whisper to myself, a creeping realization that their relentlessness will soon have them hot on my trail. Emotions surge within me, but I cannot afford to falter. As the surge of adrenaline wanes, a glimmer of relief flickers within me, igniting a spark of hope as my eyes lock onto it. Through the veil of trees, the hidden and forgotten path to Death's Pass reveals itself.
"This is it, Chara." I think to myself, "This is do or die."
A torrent of memories floods my mind—fragments of a shattered childhood, the weight of lost family ties—each remembrance stinging like a fresh wound. Tears flow as I pause before the gate. Why the tears? What am I holding onto? The loneliness, the pain, and the suffocating sense of being trapped… Nothing waits for me here, and nothing is left for me here. The twisted ideas of a future have long since disintegrated. But something about the potential finality of it all, will I ever see this again? Will there ever be anything for me to experience here with my chosen path?
Suddenly, a surge of passion and anger rises within me, boiling over the well of my emotions. With determination, I tear away the flimsy tape that guards the path, swift and resolute. The path stretches before me, marked by the trail of my tears and the shattered remnants of a forsaken future.
