If it's confusing, it's because people might go whack if they caused the deaths of several hundred (thousands?) of people, unwillingly.

Too tired for something clever to write here,

Kelsey

CHAPTER 43: THE ONE-THOUSAND MASKS OF LAURA HARIS

The little racer boat skipped the waves like a rock thrown by a giant, Luke and Flora tossed around inside.

"So much for seatbelts!" Luke yelled, holding onto his cap tightly. "This thing's as rocky as a roller coaster! You okay, Flora?"

She held her head out the window and threw up forcefully in response.

Luke slowed the vessel down and tried coasting up to the dock, but unintentionally broke several planks off of it before stopping on the sandy shore, grinding loudly into the earth. He whooped to cover up his scream ('That's a bit girly!' he thought sheepishly).

"Thank God…" Flora huffed, spilling from the boat and falling into the shallow waves. "Wasn't the most enchanting ride I've ever taken…"

"You got that right," Luke said, dutifully taking the key from the ignition and following the young girl. "Now, we're supposed to find Inspector Chelmey, but to be honest with you….I never even saw him at the station last time we visited!"

"Seriously, Luke!"

"I'm serious! I was so busy arguing with Emmy that I never even laid eyes on him!"

"But," Flora said with confusion, "he was there when you and the Professor came to St. Mystere, you know…"

Luke was silent, his face reddening. "I…"

"How do you expect to become an intelligent, intuitive gentleman like the Professor when you don't pay attention to the details?" Flora asked honestly, shaking her head. "I'm ashamed of you, Luke."

"Yeah, yeah, only a girl would say such a sappy thing, but I'll make it right, just you wait, Flora!"

He ran out of the water and into grass. The place looked desolate, rampaged by the tsunami from earlier, but a group of bystanders had collected not far from the shore.

"Let's start there… It's the only group of people I can see! If we can tell them the trouble we're in, maybe they can find the Inspector for us!"

Flora clapped her hands and nodded. "It's all we've got…"

Yelling, the children approached the group, waving their hands frantically. A short man with a bushy mustache spotted them from afar and waved.

"Oh, aren't you the Professor's young charges?" he said. He spoke with a voice much milder than he would have appeared to possess.

"Indeed, and there's a problem," Flora began. "Mr. Barton, wasn't it?"

"Smart girl, indeed that's me!" he chirped. "The Inspector is off assisting another, but give me the situation and I'll handle it!"

Luke caught his breath and shook his head solemnly. "You don't understand, Mr. Barton. This is worse than anyone ever imagined! It's…a huge situation we're in, and stopping it is going to be next to impossible to solve!"

The man's mustache twitched, and he knit his brows. "Speaking of impossible, where's the Professor?"

"He's…well…"

"He's fighting with the man that did all of this—Edward Chancey the Third—and he's currently got him out in that tower!" Flora spoke up, pointing out at sea. "He had a giant drill built and it's currently on its way to forcing the fault line to cause an even greater earthquake, causing waves that could plunge coastal cities underwater for who knows how long!"

Everyone around was staring by now, listening to the shuddering girl as she delivered the painful message. Luke beamed with pride as if he'd trained Flora all on his own.

Barton coughed, and merely blinked.

"Given that story, I might wait for the Inspector, now that I think about it…"

Hearts racing, the Professor and Laura decided to leave the break room and put their last effort towards capturing Edward. Laura stood behind Professor Layton as he pulled the bar lock back, unbolting the door. He creaked it open slowly, allowing the top of his hat to clear the door frame first, in case Edward were around shooting at the first thing he saw. When his hat didn't go flying, Layton extended the rest of his head, looked around, then gave Laura the 'all clear' signal.

They flew down the gray hall, cool air flushing past their ears. The girl sucked in a sharp breath a few times, trying her best to tolerate the pain in her legs.

"Let's navigate the drill chamber pathways," the Professor turned and said. "It'll be easier to see Edward if he's following us, or waiting for us ahead on our path." Laura merely nodded.

Her mind was numb. What was she supposed to do, challenge him? Something in her wanted to pretend they weren't running for their lives, pressed for time. Time…time…did she have much left?

The guilt tore into her mind again. The hallway became a tunnel; she was coursing through a maze to her execution, her own personal guillotine. Morphing and twisting, the Professor became an attendant, leading her down the gauntlet. Beside her were judgments and accusations, a jury of witnesses, judges of her actions. They numbered in the tens, the hundreds… Her ears filled with whispers, sounds—bitter and acidic, the angry and acrid breathing choking her conscience with blame.

Then, as soon as it started, she'd returned to the hallway. It was the same dull concrete with the same buzzing ceiling lights. She was rushing to do something. Stop someone.

'My brain…'

As soon as they returned to the chamber, a strange scent burned their nostrils. The Professor sniffed the air, and Laura followed suit.

"Is that…"

"Smoke?" he finished, and no sooner did the word pass through his lips that a faint flash of light sparked from deep down in the abyss. When the two of them looked over the railing of the path to see where the flash came from, a quickly traveling vibration rattled the entire room from the ground up. It grew louder, shaking the metal channels that circled the perimeter. Laura wobbled on her heels and gripped the railing for balance.

"What is that?!"

"I really don't…know…! W-We n-need to g-get off of this th-thing!" he tried to yell, the vibrations shaking his voice as he spoke. He started along the path at a quick pace when all of a sudden a steel bolt snapped, sending a portion of the route bending outward towards the hole in the center. There was one moment where his feet didn't touch the ground and another when he collided with the rail.

Laura's vision was blurred and she felt dizzy, barely noticing the Professor tip ever so slowly…in a dreamlike, syrupy motion…over the cold bar.

"H-Hersh…Hershel!" Her body worked before her brain did, which was lucky; arms outstretched, Laura grabbed one of the Professor's arms just before he fell beyond reach. His falling weight pulled her entire body against the shaky rails, forcing her jaw to smash into one bar and her hip against the other. The jolt caused him to slip and then only one of her hands was at his wrist.

He shouted out in surprise as his hat toppled off his head in the flurry, and instinctively (yet riskily) he reached out to catch it by the brim. For a bit he swung like a crooked pendulum on an even more crooked trajectory.

'Oh dear God…' Layton thought, accidentally looking down. 'I shouldn't have done that…' He felt vertigo distorting his vision with a swarm of fluctuating colors and pulsating perspective. The chamber shrank and bloated as he tried to focus his perception.

The shuddering of the chamber waned, but Laura's stiff fingers were beginning to quake as they gripped Layton's arm tightly. With her jaw and cheek smashed against the cold metal, it was difficult to speak.

"I…I can't feel…my arm…or my face… Hershel, drop the hat and grab with your other arm!"

"N…No, I can't…the hat…"

"You…must… I can't hold on! It's a stupid…hat, now let go!" she struggled through grinding teeth. "Hershel, my arm is going to rip out of its socket!"

He pulled the hat up to his mouth and bit firmly on the brim, using his free hand to reach for her other arm. It was a toiling bit of work, but with two limbs balancing the weight, Laura had a moment of relaxation.

"Just hold on, Hershel, I'll try to…pull you up…"

He grunted and shook his head furiously, the hat flopping as his neck turned left and right.

"Ehnn uhn!"

"I can't understand you, stop grunting and growling! If you just hold on I'll—what…what are you doing?!"

He began swinging like a pendulum again, this time perpendicular to the metal ramp, out towards the void, back towards the wall and the scaffolding. Thrusting his hips, his weight forcing him to oscillate back and forth, his goal became terrifyingly clear.

"NO!" Laura screamed, the echo bouncing about. "That's suicide! You can't mean to jump down to the next level!"

Of course, with hat in mouth, the Professor said nothing, but simply looked up and confirmed her fears. He swung harder.

"No, please, Hershel, don't…I can't…hold much longer…" she sobbed, tears building, pooling, tumbling down her cheeks. She felt a burning sadness in her, as if the vision in her imagination already happened: the brown coat shoulders, the top of the brown head, falling, fading…black abyss. Gone. Final and permanent.

"You asshole." She'd changed. The vision changed. Only rage and hatred flamed before her eyes.

'How could he do something so risky?! Intending to leave me here, after trying a stunt like that? All alone? Does he think I'd follow him and make it easy? You stupid, insipid, uncaring asshole!'

"How can you choose this…this option!" came her tattered voice, raw and strained. "It's not even an option…no, no, no…"

Another roll of synthetic thunder, and the place was shaking again. The girl was beside herself, juggling sadness and fury, but she heard the loud, pleading grunt of the one she was holding in midair, his only support…

She stared up into nothing, accepting the plan. "You want me to let go."

He started counting, swinging out towards the empty hole.

"Oowuhn…"

"This is complete madness…"

"Tchoo…"

"I can't believe this!" Laura screamed, her throat tearing as her voice fought the grinding roar from below. "You're so going to die!"

"Shree!"

"AHHHHHHHHRGH!"

Release. She felt his weight release, her muscles snap back with excruciating pain, and her tail bone slam into the steel as she flew backwards, half on her own accord. With her mouth open wide she began sobbing, staring at dreamlike hallucinations of something…somewhere… Regaining composure was becoming more and more difficult.

"Oh God, there's no way…there's no way…no bloody way…"

"Laura! Look! Down here!"

Hurriedly Laura obeyed—a last hope—leaning cautiously over the railing, enough to see the platform a story below her. Top hat and all, there he stood, beaming.

So he'd made it. As she should have known.

"I'll…I'll kill you later…" she seethed, her voice fuming with restrained rage. In a twirl she flipped upright and smiled as she clambered to the staircase. He was already there to meet her.

"Here I stand, undead," he quipped, winking. "Still going to kill me, after I just evaded death?"

Groaning, Laura pushed him towards the double doors that led to the elevator. "Go, go , no time for that, no time! I so want to smack you for that…" She heard him chuckle, and wished them away somewhere sunny, somewhere not in the middle of the sea, fighting things she didn't know how to handle.

"I think I know what Edward's doing…" she began to surmise. The elevator bell dinged, barely audible in the din. Laura rushed inside the compartment, but the Professor paused, still standing in the hall. "Get in, what are you waiting for?!"

"I don't know if that's wise, Laura. What if—"

"No 'if's', 'and's', or 'but's' about it, Hershel! We have to hurry! We need to at least get up to the main level! Discussion later!" She motioned for him to enter.

He shuffled his feet, started as if to join her, then stopped short of the door.

"I don't—"

Without second thought Laura grabbed his arm and pulled him in with all her might. She pulled the lattice door closed and pressed the 'up' button.

"Edward got desperate, and I imagine he's letting off dynamite to cause a force similar to that delivered by the machine's drilling," Laura began explaining, not even looking at the Professor. He was still flustered she'd pulled him in, and was hardly paying attention. "Depending on how deep he installed those…how many tricks does he honestly intend to—"

"Laura, we shouldn't be in here!" Layton suddenly bellowed. "We should have taken the stairs!"

"What are you—"

"It's not dynamite he's settling with! He's intending to—"

The lights went out, the elevator stalled, and the sound of dying voltage drained through the chamber with a long, dissonant bwom.

"The power's been cut," Laura whispered, shuddering in the dark. It was complete, absolute. She felt suffocated. "The power… The power!

"The power's been—"

The words didn't process as swiftly as the lift dropped into free fall. Laura felt her stomach lurch, the Professor falling into her as he toppled. He caught himself but his hat fell to the floor.

Then the thing braked, causing both riders to crumple and slam to the grated floor. Crying out, Laura felt her knees lock and buckle before she fell on something soft, most likely the Professor. Her knees met the metal grid and she felt a brazen, burning sting branch out from knee caps to thighs. Suddenly her skin felt wet.

For a brief moment the lights flashed on. Quietly, the Professor inhaled sharply, his tongue aching as he removed it from between his teeth. He tasted the iron instantly, swishing the blood throughout his mouth before being forced to swallow. His hands ached where he'd caught his fall, and when he turned them over he saw that his palms were cut and seeping.

Again, the lights went off and instantly they dropped. Again, a brake. The thing alternated between scraping the shaft and stopping, the lights flashing on and off, until finally the free fall continued for quite some time, the feeble elevator left to the mercy of gravity in the darkness.

"It's not going to stop!" the Professor yelled to the darkness, resisting the urge to vomit. "This is what I was afraid of!"

"I…"

"Is there no stopping it?!"

"There's…nothing," she confided to him, her voice shaky and nervous. "We merely wait, and we're going to—"

Racing out of control the lift shredded against the shaft, slowing it down considerably, but not enough before the whole thing smashed into the ground. The metal frame twisted, the lattice door's pins popped and burst, shooting off with the force of a gun bullet. Laura felt herself pressed into the floor alongside the Professor, whose arm was twisted awkwardly beneath her.

Lights swam in front of the girl's eyes. But it was supposed to be dark…wasn't it?

'Is this death? Does it come to…get you like a specter in the dark? Sneaky and…permanent… Flashing…lights…'

"Flashing lights."

With her face on the floor Laura looked out into a hallway, everything turned on its side. A light—bright and red like a beacon—was flashing incessantly as an alarm sounded.

"How long."

She wondered how long she'd lain there, staring. Her whole body felt numb. She wasn't sure if her body could even move. There were parts that felt cold, others that felt soaked, and others still that were warm and searing with a localized pain. Still, most parts she couldn't even sense.

'My limbs… Am I missing any?'

Other than the siren, nothing made a sound.

"I'm dead. I can't believe I'm dead."

"You're not dead," came another voice.

The Professor had shifted, a slow first attempt at moving his body. It was then Laura realized she wasn't lying on the floor at all, but instead against her mentor.

"Saved you a few more…bruises and cuts, I suppose," he wheezed, still able to smile.

She returned the grin, blood smeared across her teeth. "I'm already oozing everywhere, it feels like…"

Battered and beat up, Professor Layton helped pull Laura up and out of the rubble. Smears of blood and dirt were striped across their faces like war paint, their clothing torn and smudged like the slashed canvas of a painting. Laura had trouble walking; each time she tried bending her legs, the cuts and gashes would spill ruby red liquid, the physical sign she'd been seriously injured. Underneath the skin, she wasn't sure how badly her bones were fractured.

"It hurts…beyond belief," she whined, uncharacteristic of her. Layton merely glanced at her, hardly wincing at her wounds, instead shifting his gaze down the hall.

"I don't know where we are, but it's so far from our goal, I have no idea where to go from here…" He turned back to the shattered elevator and under a metal beam managed to find his hat, punched in and flattened. Surprisingly it hadn't torn, and he placed it gingerly back on his blood-matted head.

"I'm not so sure I care anymore," Laura muttered forlornly, tossing her arms up feebly and letting them fall at her sides. "It's obvious by the elevator just now the system was trying to override his attempts at killing the electricity, but…he got past it."

"We still have to try!" he snarled, fighting the pain in his legs, his shot up arm…everything seemed to ache and bleed and burn with pain.

Laura could only stare at him, bored, uninterested, and annoyed; she wanted nothing more than to just lie against the wall and fall asleep. "The alarm?" leaked her angry voice, monotone. Irritation percolated from her dry lips as she chuckled, preparing for a diatribe but thinking better of it. "Do you hear it? That's called a warning, Hershel. It's telling you that the whole place is losing pressure, losing safe oxygen levels, and that the place is going to crumble under pressure. The pumps are off. Only basic lighting is going to be functioning. So we can see this shitty place before we suffocate. Or get smashed when the place falls apart.

"How would you rather go?"

"This is ludicrous," the Professor hissed, starting to walk down the hall. "Do you expect me to sit here and listen to your defeatist sarcasm? So you just give in, and that's that?"

"I don't feel like entertaining that question, so if you'll just let me be, I can nurse my wounds," she replied, following with a few steps. "What do you think you're doing? Going to save the day? You don't know anything about…well, anything."

"I know that I'm not going to just give up!" For a moment, his voice surpassed anything else and he turned to glare at her. "I'm absolutely ashamed of your behavior, and I can't believe you're just going to let this all go, and—"

"Shut the hell up."

She slapped him across the face: bluntly, brusquely, with deliberate intent. It took a second for the Professor to realize what had happened, and another second to accept it. He touched his cheek with his fingertips, slowly turning to look at her. Her expression didn't change, but her eyes had. They burned with a mild madness that desperately wanted something. To harm? To cause emotional pain? Physical?

"Wha… What did you do that for?"

"Because I want you to shut your hole," she whispered, lowering her hand slowly. Her glassy orbs twitched as she held his gaze captive, driving him through with a small jolt of warning: keep your mouth shut. "I don't want you to make anymore comments about what I choose to do or not do. As far as you're concerned, you are here to assist me, are you not?"

His eyes slits, he glowered at her. "What?"

"You can help as needed, and I'll let you know how. Here's the best way: keep your stupid comments to yourself and let me get settled so I can bloody think."

Confused and embarrassed (although he didn't know why), Layton decided not to offer a snarky rebuttal, instead fuming in silence. After a few moments the girl assessed her physical state and looked around, analyzing their surroundings.

The hall had a low ceiling and was minimalist in design. Other than safety symbols and signs guiding whoever would navigate the place, the walls were dismal and gray. A few lights hung on the walls, dim and fading; they buzzed and flickered, only supplied with enough energy to function for a small period of time.

As the warning siren continued to sound, the long, melancholy wail carried around the walls, crying like an injured soul. It floated around the concrete walls and echoed as far as the length of the hall, whatever that measurement was.

Guided by the sad sound, Laura started walking, not even looking back to make sure the Professor was following. She approached a heavy, metal gate.

"This is the very lowest we can go," she said aloud. "As far as we built the navigable area. We didn't expect the drill to go much farther, and we could physically repair the machine at this part with greater ease than if we just sent it down without a second thought…

"But it's already drilled past this point by several thousand kilometers, so it doesn't matter anymore."

"Where are we going?" Layton asked with conspicuous skepticism. "You said there's nothing more we can do—"

"You know, that's a funny thing you just said." She started giggling, low and harsh; she wasn't entertained at all, merely mocking and cynical. "Where are we going…I asked myself that same question over and over, several times during my entire time knowing you, and you answered the same way: nothing more we can do, nowhere to go." She paused, looking at him carefully. "You know, after screwing me over? Remember that? There were several occasions."

Incredible. Absolutely incredible.

"Are you daft?" he snapped.

"No."

"Are you seriously losing it, Laurie?!"

"No."

"Then why are you drifting in and out of moods, and you aren't even developing a plan?!"

It was in that moment that Laura Haris felt something rise inside of her. It tasted foul. It felt foul. It knew she most likely wouldn't last for the next few hours, and she'd be gone without anyone to care. So it needed to be released. It had to be known, recognized. It'd eaten her for years, driving her mad some days, fueling her energy on others. The Professor tended its fire, and tried calming it when it got out of hand, but it still burned, embers in the dark, glowing and simmering to warm ashes.

But it never died. It now only needed a pedestal and an outlet. A prod and a poke.

Conflagration.

There within rested a hatred nurtured, and it wasn't going to be vanquished without being made known.

"There's something you need to know before we die, and I'm going to explain it quickly and in plain terms.

"I want you to feel alone and lonely," Laura Haris mumbled weakly. Her voice grew as she repeated it. "Alone and lonely, because you must not understand what that's like."

He merely stared. "Why would you—"

"If I have to be blamed for all of this, I want you to suffer too. This time, I'll make you be there at my side. I won't die alone again.

She grabbed her hair by its roots, tugging with increasing force. "I won't."

END. Review please. The next chapter is one of my favorites. :)