Title: Patchwork

Chapter Two: Panic

Started: February 18, 2009, 7:32 AM

Edited: 5/13/11 5:35:34 PM

Story Quote: In his heart he knew, knew that she wouldn't listen to him. So he followed her. If only to make sure she was safe.

"Hey, Jonesy! Wait up!" called Wybie as he tried to coax his motorbike gradually up the mist-dampened hill. Every time he managed to make a little progress in his ascent he would end up losing traction and slipping back the way he came, making it very difficult to avoid falling and stopping the blue haired girl from going any farther into the woods. In fact, his shouts had the opposite effect of what he was hoping for. She glared over her shoulder heatedly and stormed off at a higher pace. Wybie frowned as he finally managed to overcome the slick slope.

Oh, why was she speeding up?

"Hold on!" he called again, after her. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Couldn't she just do as she was told for one minute? At the thought he began to chew on his lip. No, from what he had experienced by being around her so far, he could tell this: she would do what she wanted without hesitation. She was extremely single minded, and she required extreme, alternate ways pacify her. It wasn't much of a wonder she was exploring the area all the time.

His bike grunted lowly as it slid through the mud in her direction. She wasn't going to get away so easily. With what little traction he had, he used it to wheel around in front of her. Succeeding in not only blocking her path, but also flinging mud in every which direction. Immediately, he realized his mistake and he held up both hands as a sign of peace.

This was not what he had intended.

Along with the front of her bright yellow parka, her hair, cheeks, legs and boots were tarnished with russet mud. Her wide hazel eyes narrowed scornfully as she began to advance him. Wybie shuddered and tried to lean away from her without dragging the bike on top of him in the process.

Turns out he didn't need any help.

With a hefty blow to the front tire, much more force than a girl should possess, it tumbled over into the mud with Wybie scrambling from underneath. When the bike's handlebar made contact with his stomach his field of vision blurred and the breath he had was sufficiently knocked out of him. He groaned pitifully as his head tried to clear itself.

"What are you even doing here, Why-were-you-born?" Coraline spat tetchily.

He didn't have a reply. Instead he settled for lying completely still with his eyes closed. Brawn had never really been his strong suit, so after a blow to the stomach he was pretty much down for the count. Maybe when he stopped seeing stars he would respond. Before then, however, it didn't seem like much of an option. But then again…

What Coraline wanted, Coraline got.

With a moody growl she circled the fallen bike so that she was standing in front of him. He looked up blankly to her frowning face. Only when she offered her hand did he take the hint. He held up a wobbly arm and was simultaneously lugged, through the mud, out from underneath the bike. Once free of the bike's weight he was immediately released and fell, rather heavily, into a big puddle. When the cold water splashed his face he lurched upright. Lucky for him, only his hair got wet, seeing as his jacket was waterproof.

He shook his head quickly to remove excess water from his face. The mix of cold water along with the chilling fog was stinging his skin painfully. "Jeez, Jonesy, there wasn't any real need for that, was there?" he questioned lowly as he stood. "Besides, I only wanted to know if you had gotten the doll or not," he continued, giving his hair another shake for good measure.

The moody girl huffed at him. "Yeah, I did. What was that all about, anyways? Is that your freaky way of telling me you like me?"

Wybie temporarily froze at her words, though that didn't really make much sense. He felt as if someone had just put him into a steam compressor the way his face was lighting up. "N-no, nothing like that," he rectified. "I just thought, you know, since it looked like you, shouldn't you be the one to give it to?" He bent over quickly to grasp the bike's handlebar. That was another innovation he would need to make. Lighter. Much lighter.

"Oh, come on. It was exactly like me! It had my blue hair, my freckles, my yellow rain coat, my barrette…no way you just found that lying around the house." She pointed out each of the characteristics she listed while she went, as if amplifying her point.

He set his bike aside by leaning it on a tree and answered, with as much determination as he could, "Well, I did." He gave her and appraising look. She was holding another tree branch (not poison oak, this time) in her left hand while her right held a backpack to match her bright yellow ensemble. "What are you doing today? Looking for more abandoned wells?"

Coraline frowned and crossed her arms. "No, I'm not, not that it's any of your business. I'm just exploring." She gestured to her bag. "I've got everything I need here to do so."

After thinking for a moment, Wybie replied, "Why don't I go with you? I know this place like the back of my hand." He held up his skeletal glove-covered hand to her.

Her frown just deepened as her eyes surveyed the dirty fabric. "I don't need your help, Why-were-you-born. I can explore well enough on my own, thank you very much," she snipped. Wybie frowned at her sulkily before bobbing his head so that his mask slid over his face. The sudden change in appearance didn't even faze her. In fact, she even made a point in telling him so. "You know, you should keep that mask on more often. Maybe you won't scare as many people."

He ignored her. A difficult task for some, but not so much when your mind is preoccupied elsewhere. Like Wybie's. Though, it wasn't that he wasn't thinking about her; just not what she was saying at the precise moment. No, instead he was much more concerned with the images of her, lost in the woods, alone, at night, and in the fog. What if she couldn't find her way back? What if she ran into a wild animal? Or what if she were to not see a cliff face and wander a bit too close? His heart began to thud anxiously in his chest. She really shouldn't just go off all by herself. Fine, if she wouldn't let him come, then maybe he could scare her out of even going.

"Okay, go if you want. Just do us all a favor and look out for the Beldam," he tried. Maybe, since she had scared him so badly, it would have a similar effect on Coraline. For now, however, she just crossed her arms expectantly.

"And what is the 'Beldam'?" she asked.

Wybie ducked his head to the side as he went to retrieve his bike, scouring his mind for details of his dream as he did so. It wasn't too difficult. A face like hers was impossible to forget.

"Well, I guess you could say she's a walking skeleton. She's around ten feet tall, she's got metal claws for hands, and…for eyes she had coal-black buttons sewed into her skull!" He peered over his shoulder so he could get a good look at her expression. Her eyes were a bit wider and her mouth slightly agape.

Plan: Shock Coraline into NOT Going: Success.

"Buttons?" she asked warily. "She has button eyes?" her voice quavered ever so slightly as she asked. Wybie's mouth fell open slightly.

Buttons? Of all things in that description to scare her…it was the buttons?

What was wrong with her?

Oh well, might as well sell it.

"Yep, beady-black-button eyes. She's so frightening that even the toughest of men wouldn't dare approach her, let alone a little girl. They say that she wanders around in the forest on foggy days like this. Just waiting for someone to get lost so she can steal their soul and make them into one of her button eyed-henchmen!"

Coraline didn't buy it at all.

"You're so full of it!" she yelled and threw a punch directed at his unprotected arm. He winced as her fist connected with him. Why was she so violent?

"Ow, Jonesy, that hurt!" he protested and rubbed his injury gently. She just stuck out her tongue childishly at him and re-crossed her arms. It was no use. There was no way that he was going to convince her otherwise.

"Okay, okay, so I was fudging the truth a bit," he admitted. "But you really should be careful. It's really to get lost in the woods around here. 'Specially when the fog sets in, like it has," he added.

Coraline nodded her head exasperatedly.

"Fine, I'll be careful. Can I go now or were you planning on splashing me with more mud?"

Wybie shook his head and moved his bike so that she could pass. She sent him an apprehensive look as she went by before disappearing into the forest's depths. In his heart he knew—knew that she wouldn't listen to him.

So he followed her.

If only to make sure she was safe.

Quietly as he could, he trailed after her. He watched from the shadows as she absently walked along various, invisible game trails, along fallen tree trunks, and in and out of small caves, noting every bit of oddly colored moss, mushroom, and flower as she went. The farther she went into the forest, however, the more unnerved he became, and it seemed to be taking her longer and longer to emerge from the rock faces she wandered into. In fact, the one she had most recently walked into…

She hadn't come out of.

He had waited…and waited…and waited…and waited…

And quite frankly, he'd had enough of it.

So he slid from his hiding place in the low-lying ferns and trudged through the other underbrush, trying to avoid snagging his jacket, to the cave's mouth. Inside he could see close to nothing. The small rays of light did little to illuminate the cave's features for him. The rocky floor beneath his boots crackled with each step he took and the sound echoed on the stone walls around him. He hurried on.

"Coraline?" he called softly. His voice repeated itself continuously through the dark void. He clasped his hands together anxiously. Oh, where was she? Hopefully not hurt, or lost, or—

"AAHHH!"

Coraline.

Like an arrow he flew into the darkness after her, with her scream still reverberating off the walls ominously. His eyes searched desperately for any sort of outline or shape that could resemble her. Any sound that could be her calling for help. "Jonesy?" he inquired feebly. When no reply came, he repeated, "Jonesy, are you here?" Still, there was nothing. His heart leapt into his throat with the siege of panic that was beginning to overtake him. What if she really was hurt? What if she was severely hurt? Oh, and it was his fault too. He should have persisted more about him coming along with her. Maybe, if he's been at her side, this wouldn't have happened.

He began to sprint.

His footsteps ricocheted around him like gunfire as he went. He started calling to her as if seeking a lost puppy, even going so far as to snapping his fingers. If he hadn't been so worried he would have thought of himself as ridiculous.

He felt even more so as he was forced, face first, into the dirt.

With a pitiful groan he forced himself up onto his hands and knees. That's going to leave a mark, he thought dolefully as he turned to see what caused his descent.

What to his surprise when he saw Coraline: sitting on the floor of the cave, with her arms crossed, a bitter look on her face, and one yellow-booted foot caught snugly in a crevice. His mouth fell open disbelievingly as all his worries disappeared at first sight. If he had landed into the plot on one of his favorite novels he could not have been happier. Apparently she didn't share his sentiment.

"Stalker," she stated bluntly.

He couldn't help but laugh.

Darkness. Surrounding, suffocating, blinding darkness. And to make it worse, there was the pain. God, the pain. His muscles burned and arched with pronounced agony from being prodded at for so long. His shaky hands clutched his throat in an attempt to fend off the hurt. He was sure that if he could cry, he would have. But only from the damage done to his body. To be honest, he hadn't felt so happy since the moment he had been brought down here. He felt warm inside despite the chilly cement he was laid upon. The source of this joy was unknown to him, despite his best efforts. Not that he could really complain.

He smiled lightly as he rubbed his tender throat.

He was still underneath the house in the Beldam's workshop. He had been restrained here long enough to miss Coraline's first visit. A chance he sorely regretted losing. If he could help it, such a thing would never happen again.

Not on his watch.

He turned his head idly to peer out the tiny window that led to the outside. Little blades of grass had begun to wedge themselves through the cracks in the glass and obscured his view of the outside world. Still, he was able to note a few things. He could see Father on his strange machine in the garden, he could see a couple mice preparing for Mr. Bobinsky's show, and he could see the pale blue moon gleaming high in the sky. And that meant one thing.

Coraline would be here soon.

He smiled despite himself at the thought. Tonight, he would finally be able to meet her. The girl he had been thinking about since his birth. He had so many questions to ask her! But what if he were to freeze up? He always had been sort of nervous, and how humiliating would it be if he kept stuttering every time he tried to talk to her? No, he wouldn't do that. He had to make sure everything was perfect. And what better way to achieve that than with practice?

He opened his mouth to voice his silent question. But there was no sound to accompany it. So he tried again. It held a similar effect. No. No, this couldn't be happening. Was this what the Beldam done when she was fixing him? She made him mute? He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. Both of which he could not. Instead, he settled for banging his fists against the wall he was propped up against. Now what? He would never be able to ask her all the questions that burned inside him. He would never be able to tell her the kind things he was sure she deserved to hear. And, most important of all, he wouldn't be able to tell her to run. Run away from this place and never return.

Maybe that was the Beldam's plan all along.

"Wybie?" asked a chiming voice. He would not be fooled by it. He knew what sort of monster it belonged to. He ducked his head and wrapped his arms around his knees defensively. If she thought she would get her hands on him again; she had another thing coming. "Wybie dear? Are you awake?"

Of course he was awake. Did she honestly think he was sleeping throughout her torture? He'd been awake for every needle puncture and stitch she had enforced upon him.

Her soft steps sounded through the silence of the room like the ticking of a clock. Rhythmically. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The steps were beginning to get louder, signaling her advance upon him. A spike of panic went up his spine. Whatever happiness he had felt before was now long gone. Suddenly, the room exploded with light. He winced horribly as it assaulted his eyes. Now he was mute and blind, even if only temporarily. He immediately uncurled himself and tried to back away from the Beldam's footsteps. He fumbled over the contents of the room: thread baskets, sewing kits, needle cases, and fabric boxes. He maybe made it five feet before he fell to the floor.

Now that he thought about it, where had he really been planning to go? There were only two possible exits. The door and the window, and both were impossible to breach without his sight.

He had been trapped from the beginning.

"There you are, dear," she whispered from beside him. He gave and inaudible yelp and lashed out blindly. When had she gotten so close? He tried to move away, only to have her latch onto his shoulder. Her fingers weren't the claws he had remembered them as, which meant that she was once again the mirror image of Coraline's mother. Of his mother. He looked up and saw her familiar, blurry outline. Coraline must be sooner in coming back than he thought. "I want you to come with me, now," she said warmly as she began to lead him the way she had come. "It won't be too much longer now until Coraline shows and I'm sure that, now that you're fixed, she'd be glad to have your company." Wybie nodded and stumbled towards the stairs. Then a thought occurred to him.

Maybe this could be his chance.

He began to walk faster. The sooner he got to Coraline, the better. Even if he couldn't speak, he would find a way to tell her. To warn her. And if that meant that he would be forced to play this witch's game, then so be it. He could do it.

The Beldam nodded approvingly. "Good boy, Wybie," she said, right before abruptly pulling him back to her. He nearly fell down the stairs as he was wheeled around to look up to her stolen face. She still wore that maternal smile on her face as she breathed, "But one last thing. Don't forget to always smile." She leaned down so that her button eyes bore into his own. His insides were once again gripped by ice as he tried to struggle away.

Nothing about her expression faltered as she whispered ever so quietly into his ear, "Or else."

Ending Song Time!

I can see what a knife's meant to be,

And you'll never know how I came to foresee, see, see.

My faith in believing is stronger than lifelines and ties,

With the glimmer of metal my moment is ready to strike.

Artist: Iron Maiden Song: Killers