Act 2: Descending through the Nine Circles
A dusk-filled, machine-like hallway is ahead of them. Monochromatic canvasses done by airbrush creating nightmarish dreamscapes. Dozens of pseudo-futuristic doors that open up in various and over the top ways, leading to somewhere unknown. It looks as if they are just painted on the walls.
The windows made out of stained glass, through which no one can see, are depicting puzzling events unfolding. Puzzling as the events are barely distinguishable from the rest of the glass; it's that shattered. The cracked ceiling meters above, looking like a fissure gone out of control, gives the illusion it could come down at any given moment.
The smell and dense atmosphere is comparable with scent of sultry books from an abandoned library. Aside from that, dead silence lingers throughout the hallway giving the chills to anyone with the fear of something popping in front of their faces out of nowhere. The silence is only occasionally disrupted; there is a distinct metallic Cling coming from the end of the hallway, something that is hidden in the darkness far away.
In awe, both Krystal and Dagon step into this hallway. Dagon has seen this hall before but it manages to impress time after time again. Dust wipes up with every step they take, leaving a trail behind that tends to follow them. Krystal notices this and jokes that if Dagon's robe would be longer and be acting as a cape, waving on the wind, it would look extremely badass.
Dagon just shrugs uninterested and says something inaudible. It's accompanied by a pretty shady snigger.
Chortling creep. Goes through Krystal's mind before she turns her attention to the end of the hallway. The metallic Cling is in her interest.
"Hey Dagon? What is that sound at the end of the hallway?" she wonders.
Again, Dagon shrugs but he does answer properly this time. "Nobody knows exactly what that sound is. But we do know its purpose; to drive those imprisoned here insane."
Krystal fusses a bit. "How can that make you go insane? It's not that disturbing."
"Just you wait. This hallway may seem long now, but you've never seen it without me." He turns his head to Krystal. "Welcome to the Entrance to Limbo. If I were to leave you behind here, you would never reach the end of this hallway. That... will drive you crazy."
Krystal swallows hard as she realizes that if Dagon indeed does leave her behind, she might turn into a jailbird for the insane asylum. As Dagon already walks on, Krystal picks up the pace. If she loses him here, she might lose him forever. Be stuck here isn't on her agenda now.
"J-just out of curiosity..." she brings up while trying to tone down a shudder in her voice. "...what if I were to lose you? You know, out of my sight?"
She corrected herself quickly so she doesn't give Dagon the impression that she would care about him. He could drop dead if it was up to her but he's her only way out of here. No matter what tricks he has up his sleeve, she has no other choice than to follow him.
"Then you would simply walk for all eternity. You would see the light at the end coming closer, but when you think you can touch it, you go away from it. All the while you feel like you're walking towards it. In reality, you haven't moved a single inch because you're sitting in a corner. Curled up into a ball, rambling complete and utter rubbish to yourself." A glimpse of something pale skinned on his left catches his attention. "Much like that person over there."
Krystal looks at where Dagon is pointing, only to see a long and blond-haired female person clenched up in herself, hiding in one of the even darker shadows of a corner. She's indeed talking in herself; complete and incomprehensible noises leaving from her lips. Her voice is sweet and slightly British, much like her own. But it's cut up by a darker, more grunting noise on occasion.
The creature has no fur, at least none to speak off. A circle made up of blond hairs surrounding her suggest that she might have pulled them out herself, one by one by one. Something starting with a "P" and ending with an "S" is written in the hairs, but Krystal can't make out what it says from her point of view.
She's wearing a black dress with a colorful flower pattern and she's holding a smartphone in front of her. The casing on the back shows a Christian cross, in great contrast to what the environment has to offer. The edges of that cross look somewhat scorched so this place certainly has an effect on it. The only thing that doesn't fit is that the cross isn't inverted, unlike all the others she has seen so far.
While her conscience says no, Krystal begins to approach to creature. Not that Dagon is trying to stop her; he just watches knowing what the outcome will be.
Krystal can almost read what is written. She can make out another letter, a "Y" left of the "P". But when she comes too close, the creature looks up. Her eyes are completely empty, no pupil or iris to see. Her pallid face is riddled with markings, hideous blisters and swollen black veins visible from underneath her skin.
"Be... gone!" preaches the creature with a voice so excessively soulless, the air around her cools down with at least 10 degrees Celsius. A horde of buzzing flies, as big as rhinoceros cockroaches, leave her mouth forcing Krystal to retreat immediately. She stumbles back and trips over her own feet. Only to fall into Dagon's catching paws.
"You don't need to perform a trust fall with me darling." he says with mocking snigger.
Krystal's expression turns sour and she repels Dagon's help by pushing him away. "I didn't need you to catch me." she states repulsive while dusting herself off. "I can take perfect care of myself, thank you."
"Suit yourself." is Dagon's blunt answer to that.
Krystal takes one last look at the creature who withdraws her head in her folded arms. Back into her world, rambling and muttering. The flies have fled through the fissure in the ceiling, though their buzzing and pullulating can still be heard. Krystal shudders before she follows Dagon again.
"She didn't look healthy at all." she comments as she tries to shake the whole thing off. "What was she anyway?"
"Hmmm… I recall her being here with me before. This hallway has a different look at times so I could be wrong about this. She was with me… just like you."
As if this place doesn't give Krystal enough creeps. "Did she say something wrong?"
Dagon shakes his head. "No. I guess I was feeling corny then. Just for the fun of it." he says with a snigger. "She hasn't been here that long, I can tell you that."
Well that's a great assurance... thinks Krystal rolling her eyes around.
The end of the hallway is coming closer and the metallic "Cling" begins to subside. Underway, Krystal spots more of these deformed creatures. All holding different objects and having the same pale skin and visible veins on their faces. One actually looks up and stares at her. Eyes wide open, with only a black dot gazing at her, following her every move. The most nerving part is that the eyes work individually, looking at two parts of her at the same time.
"Something to see clown misfit!?" she snarls at it when it seems to have a permanent eye on her rear.
The creature suddenly looks her right in the eye with both dots. It comes along with several twitches and disgusting bone-breaking sound. "You have… a beautiful skin… c-c-can I touch it? O-o-r… cut it?"
A knife is pulled out as he grates it against his teeth. "I just know… y-you would like it. And that you… y-you would scream!" He bites down on the blade. "You would scream!"
Krystal hides her fear behind a mask of the most feigned straight face ever as she turns it the other eye. The creature grimaces and shoves the blade into the side of his mouth.
"You'll come back… right? I just… j-just know you will…"
Krystal takes one last look at the freak who has turned to himself again, pushing his knife further into the side of his mouth. He pushes it to the very limit of cutting into his own skin, but he can't. With a loud grunt the knife leaves his mouth. The creature throws on the ground and with a rattling sound turns around, beginning to slam his forehead into the wall.
"Looks like he didn't make the cut. No pun intended." she comments out of the blue.
Dagon can come along with it. "These creatures here have no more purpose in life. You can laugh at them if you want. They don't care… they are empty inside."
"You have consumed them. Like you did with Adonis… I haven't forgiven you for that yet."
"If you want to battle me, I suggest you figure out a way to tarnish that what is build up from millions of lives. The Gatekeeper tried it and it took two weeks before I lost 1/20 of what I had built up."
Dagon's claim gets Krystal thinking. With every soul he consumes, he grows more powerful. If The Gatekeeper tried to rid him a solid 1000 years ago and it took him two weeks to get to 1/20, how powerful is he now then? When she asks that question, Dagon lets her know that Délarbé came to be about a 1000 years ago, around 400 years after Dagon already became like this. Just for comparison.
It's not much of a direct answer to her question but it certainly gives her the possibility to persuade with Dagon. "So you're stronger than Délarbé!? Why are listening to him then? On top of that; why not destroy him on the spot?"
For Dagon, this is nothing new; those who found that out have asked him that before. "I don't see the epiphany in it." is his simple answer.
"Seriously? You could be more powerful then… then… uhm… Satan by this point! You could rule everything! For all I care."
"I don't like ruling. I think it's boring." He looks right at Krystal with a more serious look on his face. "Moreover, I'm a loyal person. The Gatekeeper mistook me for a traitor and he paid the price. Délarbé on the other hand, saw me as a friend right along. I'll help him get the throne and crown. And once he has become the righteous ruler of Hell, I'll have the freedom to consume whenever and wherever."
"But you could turn against… if you wanted to." says Krystal suggesting.
Dagon turns around with a disgusted look on his face. He gives no answer to Krystal's suggestion. Délarbé warned me for this; she's very manipulative. I need to prevent her from getting in my head.
He walks on again towards the end of the hallway, Krystal following closely behind. She's slightly disappointed at Dagon's disinterest of ruling. She could have been freed from this, whatever it still is, ages ago if Dagon would just see his chance and overthrow Délarbé. Instead, she has figured out that they have a strong bond dating back centuries.
I need to free myself from this deathtrap. She thinks logically. Dagon is certainly gonna keep me here, even with Fox released. Délarbé is just nothing more than a worthless sack of salt… All I need now is for Dagon to empty that sack.
Her mind is cooking up villainous ideas. It gives her a sense of power and might, but at the same time she can't help but feel ashamed. What has become of her since she came to this place? She wanted an edge to she could repel verbally but this crossing several boundaries.
Her internal struggle is broken up when she bumps up against Dagon's back, who has stopped for no apparent reason. She groans complaining, rubbing her forehead and looks around him.
"Why did you suddenly stop?"
"Because this where you go it alone from here." A one-sided, shadowy smirk emerges on his unlighted face. "Fox is down these spiraling stairs. At the very bottom, the ninth door."
Krystal walks past Dagon who's chortling in himself again, apparently stewing an evil plan of his own. She indeed sees a long staircase spiraling downwards. She looks over the disfigured looking banisters as she can't see the ground below. She clamps her paws around it and she looks further down. Only a shrouding of mist and dusk is what she can see. A small pebble lies close to her foot. She kicks it down into the abyss, never to hear it hit the ground.
"What are you waiting for Krystal?" asks Dagon with the most darkened voice she heard coming from his lips so far. "I thought you wanted Fox so bad… that no person or thing would stand against it?"
"I never said that!" snarls Krystal poisonous.
Dagon just gestures her to the staircase with his left arm. "All you were ever here for. Freeing Fox. Go down and prove what I just said."
"I'll get back at you." she assures him sassy before descending down the stairwell.
At first, with baby steps, getting the hang of it. Trying to find out if every step might trigger a booby trap of some sort. The stairwell to the fake temple before the Cathedral is still hanging around in her mind. But when at least 20 steps prove unsuccessful in harming her, she calms herself and walks down the stairway normally.
The place she was before is now far above her and Dagon is out of her sight. The dusk and mist she once looked down upon is now all around her. It's chilly and it smells like the backside of an old car. She can know; she has driven in one.
She looks up, seeing the platform where she looked down from as a small square high above. Something she shouldn't have done as a shockwave, coming from above and crashing on her like a falling bomb, runs down her spine and almost downs her. The feeling of two small spots burning in the back of her head is felt.
Recollecting herself, she looks up with an ached look on her face. Above the platform, she sees two red lights shining down her. Like a limelight she never wanted to shine upon her. From the platform, she feels a similar yet weakened feeling peering on her.
Both D's are still following me around with their magic see-through-everything eyes or whatever. At least I don't have to see their stupid asses anymore. Dagon in particular.
She couldn't stand being around him anymore. The thoughts she was having around him felt like liquefied sludge flowing through her. Furthermore, Dagon's constantly changing attitude was nerve wrecking. She had no idea with what he was gonna crop up with now.
That guy changes his mind and mood faster than a woman with hormonal disorder.
She can giggle about that sharp-minded joke as her right paw glides over the arm rail as she keeps on descending downwards. The arm rail begins to feel different over time though. From a cold, iron feeling, to a rather fluffy and dark blue colored one. It begins to even get a faint red glowing radiation.
"Aah!" she yells short and a little too loud when the sight of this startles her. She pulls herself together, already on the brink of just fleeing. She brings her shaking right paw closer to her face and sees a few hairs that came loose and get pasted on her skin. She plucks one of smallest off her palm.
"Is this… D-Dagon's?" she asks herself with a shudder. Her giggling seems to be something of the past as something horrible strikes her; a vision of Dagon that is printed on her cornea.
"NO!" she screams as thoughts of Dagon's touch sickeningly favorable shoot her mind.
She cleans off her paws, scattering the hairs that slowly fall down. She runs downwards with a fear of looking behind her. The staircase seems to last forever. And as if that wasn't bad enough, she begins to hear voices.
She blocks off her ears with her paws and closes her eyes when she recognizes those voices; they were from the nightmare she had before she knew about all this. Back in the Sargasso Space Zone. Where it was safe, good and where she was loved by at least one person instead of none. Where her direct environment, her bedroom, the kitchen and the TV-room were a mess, not her mental state. But instead, she's in his place with no one to care for her. What is present, is blaming her and making her out for a whore. A slut. A disloyal travesty!
Stop it! Stop it! I can't take this anymore! She pleads in her head to no extent.
She stops and cringes on one of the steps. What was left of her sanity drains away from her. Tears erupt from her otherwise locked eyelids and stream down her cheeks. She opens her mouth and tries to say something, utter something at least. With her heartbeat stagnating and her breathing failing, her whole body flails and jitters towards her throat. Towards her vocal chords.
All she has left is being put into action. But after nothing more than a blanked scream, producing nothing more than a baby's squeak, she falls unconscious against the barristers to her left. Darkness takes over what she sees. Deaf to the voices and all other sounds; her heavy and exhausted inhaling and exhaling is all she hears.
T-this can't be it.
There must be... be a way.
I won't be beaten this easily.
All I need to do is... is to wake up. So wake up... wake up... wake up!
With a somewhat withheld gasp she awakens to find that she's no longer on the stairwell. She's in some kind of spinning cylinder made up of bright and vibrant colors flying everywhere. Mostly green lines and blue spots that shoot in every direction. She doesn't feel dizzy or nauseous despite the constant spinning... but she feels out of this world; she feels extraordinary.
She looks down at her feet; they are running at an amazing speed without her doing a thing. She has no control over them. But every step she makes feels like she's jumping from one cliff edge to another. Her arms act the same and feel nearly non-existent, even though she can see them just fine waving by her. Lighter than a feather, even matter itself, she speeds off towards the end of the cylinder.
This is must be how it feels to be high. She thinks light-headed.
She suddenly hears whispering coming from above her. She can't make out what is being is said, but the more she walks on, the clearer she can hear what is being said.
It's a male voice, recognizable and with a strong character. However the words and the way he's bringing it, suggests that he's not in a comfortable situation. He's asking for help. He's asking to... disrupt the stream?
W-what am I supposed to do?
While Krystal is wondering this, the whispering begins to get softer and draw further away from him. Out of pure curiosity, she speeds up to chase it down.
Ahead of her, a large door emerges from nowhere. It's white and graced with confusing decorations, much like the tainted glass from earlier. She can make out that it's a never-ending circle, but she can't advance from that point on.
Furthermore, it looks firmly locked. Krystal can't move out of the way; she's fixed on this straight path ahead. The door is coming closer and radiates an eerie feeling, getting stronger the closer she's getting to it.
That doesn't stop Krystal from trying to get back to the whispering. She turns her left shoulder towards the door and prepares to fiercely ram through it. What didn't work in the Nether, should work here!
And how surprisingly right she is; the firm and chilling looking door snaps like a twig. Shards of wood are launched and spread all over the place. Everything turns into slow-motion for just a single second. The vibrant colors turn grey around her. Feeling disappears from her body. Everything freezes around her, either in the air or part of the environment.
In her right ear, she hears the whispers coming back. It sounds like a whole lot of nonsense, but as a presence, seemingly chanting these whispers like preaching poet comes closer to her, she can make out what is being said to her.
"They are coming closer! I can't hold them off any longer. Krystal! You have to disrupt the stream! It's our only hope!"
Krystal's eyes spread open wide. If she could gasp at moment, she would. The voice... was none other than Adonis talking to her. Impossible, since she saw him getting mutilated by Dagon and dragged under a sea of magma. No one can survive that.
Before she can wonder how that is possible, the environment around her becomes alive again. The grey gradually flows over into the lively colors it once was. Krystal lands on both feet and reignites the chase.
She wants to know why Adonis is speaking to her. And why he sounded... younger. The sentence he gave to her raised more questions than it answered any.
The colors around her begin to change. From the green lines, to red lines instead. The atmosphere becomes denser and exercises pressure on her. Not one miniscule part of her body is spared.
Why do I feel so... hopeless and... Inferior? Urgh... don't think about it too much. Keep your head in the game; don't fail.
Krystal shakes it off and faces off against a second door. It's more like a large gate and it has a strange but distinct lock similar to that of an iron chastity belt. The doorpost itself is graced with a text that spells:
Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery: But I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.
However, Krystal is going too fast to neither read nor understand it all. Like with the previous, she acts as the anthropomorphic battering ram. The lock breaks into pieces as a feminine scream and the gushing of blood is heard.
Grey becomes the color of the environment once more. Time stops again. But there's no presence coming closer to her ear. Instead, her vision becomes horribly distorted as she feels strong winds blowing her back and forth.
"This is for your own good Krystal." she hears coming from all directions as her vision holds a picture of a lavishly decorated princess room before her. She finds herself on a king-sized bed, looking at two blurred out figures in royal clothing. The figure on the left wears a pink dress and the figure on the right wears a blue uniform decorated with all sorts of frills and fiddles. A woman and a man obviously.
"Your father is right honey." says the feminine voice on the left. "You were a little too uh... impulsive. This will certainly work for you."
"Remember that is for your own good." emphasizes the male before both blurry creatures leave the room all while someone with a younger and incredibly angry feminine voice begins to curse and scream out loud.
In a swirl that makes her a tad dizzy, her vision returns to back to the cylinder. The strong winds have ceased; she's running again. The environment is now neon pink with wild lashes of purple, reminding her of a prostitution-ridden slum. The sounds that are produced from various parts are probably the most disturbing: Moans of pleasure mixed with agonizing cries of unwished and newborn babies make for a disturbing operetta.
The air around her becomes thicker and filled with all sorts of attractive and alluring scents. Expensive perfumes and pheromones fill up her nostrils. Her whole body tingles. Her hair feels looser as her mind follows that same example. She's drowning underneath a sea of arousement but she feels even better than she already did.
"Take me! Come on Sciltch; my parents are gone now! They won't be able to stop me now! Hurry up and declutch that stupid chastity belt!"
Wait. Was that... me? Who is Sciltch? And... "Take me"!? What kind of slut would...?
Krystal awakes from the sea that has started to suffocate her. The pleasant and arousing smells suddenly form a clot in her throat, preventing her from breathing. She surfaces with a loud gasp for air, coughing her lungs out in meantime. The thick air thins out as it lost its purpose. The smoke clears and a door emerges from it.
The smell coming off of it is full and pleasant. It reminds her of a confectionery. On the door itself stands, the words how much worse is eating richly while others go without? Are written on it.
The door however opens on its own. Krystal enters a white void filled with mustard-yellow scents. They enter her nostrils. First against her will, but a rumbling stomach changes that quickly. She closes her eyes and lets her get carried away by the scents to the Land of Plenty.
She remembers... an enormous table. The most prestigious tablecloth and food, seasoned only with the rarest spices and most gluttonous fillings, sauces and stuffing. Meats ranging from chicken and cock to fish and clamps. From pork and beef to the freshest fruits and vegetables. All ripped from the farmers and civilians. Those aren't even on her mind now as the sight gets her hungrier than those poor folk could ever be.
I... I c-can remember more... this was on… C-Cerinia? My home planet?
The table and the whole dining room around her disappear, drooping away like wet paint on a wall. She's back at the cylinder now, but it has stopped spinning around. Even though she has gone through another one of these weird visions of possibly her past, time doesn't resume.
"Hello? Isn't this thing supposed to spin out and propel me forwards or something?" she shouts hoping someone or something would hear her.
She begins tapping her feet in irritation before she hears a long and high-pitched beep, much like that of an intercom. It's followed by a voice; Fox's!
"Krys..l? K…tal!? C.. you h..r me?" he broadcasts with some interfering static in between, slowing clearing away.
"Fox!?" she shouts around. "Where are you!?"
The static is filtered, allowing Fox to speak in full sentences. "I-I don't know. All I know is... that you are underway. T-to get me back, right?"
It does Krystal well that Fox knows she's coming. She slightly bows her head to hide a tear of joy dripping down her cheek. "Yes Fox. I'm coming for you."
She hears Fox sigh relieved. "Thank you Krystal. I know I could trust... and still love you." says Fox with a lot of optimism. "I can help you get through this all."
"Sure Fox. Just tell what to do."
"There are six doors still ahead of you; Break through every one of them. Don't think about anything other than reaching the end. Otherwise those weird visions will continue to plague you forever and you won't come a step closer."
"Thanks Fox. I'm getting you out of this." she promises resolute.
"I have no doubt about that. I love you Krystal."
Fox leaves at the sounding of another beep. It's shorter and well-pitched so it doesn't ache Krystal's ears. The cylinder begins to spin around but in the opposite direction this time. For the rest, nothing has changed.
Let's finish this! She thinks with a determined look on her face. She moves along with the movement of her legs and arms, giving her the impression she's going even faster than before. The doors that are ahead of her, no matter how colorful, tempting or impressive looking, stand no chance against her.
Wood, iron and even pure diamond seems to pulverize under her battering streak. The grey portions after every broken door have been shaken off. Visions or whisperings are tossed aside and skipped. Even though all the visions are seen from her perspective and it's narrated by her voice, speaking a sentence of the past.
After door 4: Don't I just love this pampering... all the wealth... all the fame. I think I might empty the treasury another time. For a little jousting here and there.
After door 5: I rule this throne! This kingdom! Don't think you'll be able to stand in my way! Those rumors were deadly for my rightful position. All because I had intercourse with you? Please. Throw his carcass in the dungeon; I don't have to see his ugly face for a long time to come.
After door 6: Our religion is pure. It's the planet. My parents are part of it... you are part of it. But you've thrown that away by picking another religion that suited you better. Disgusting! Adonis and his clan are the only ones who may. Not some low life like you. Burn him and the rest of these pagans.
After door 7: Where is my tax revenue mayor? I thought your town was able to pay the monthly excise. I might think that... oh are joking me? Another suicide in my army? Take that coward's body away and desecrate it however you'd like. Let the dogs feed on his remains. I'm sorry mayor, where were we?
Those speeches… she couldn't care less about them. Besides, those hallucinations were not even her own. Krystal herself has never been capable of doing such horrible things. Those points of views and voices could have been easily manipulated. If the double D's are capable of morphing into other creatures and imitate their voices, why not this whole space around here?
After those four doors, she arrives at the second-to-last door. A large grimace appears on her face as the feeling of invincibility drowns her rational and even stubborn mind. She is the wind; she is the speed of light. She's unstoppable!
Bring it on you wooden scrap heap!
However, at the very moment her shoulder and the wood of the door meet, a narrow and long blood splatter splashes onto the door. The slashing sound that is accompanied by it sounds way too familiar to her.
She breaks through the door, unable to hold back. She finds herself in another white void, this one filled with extensive lightening making it impossible to see. She closes her eyes, turns her face away and covers it with her arms. The feeling of being unstoppable is completely drilled into the ground when the light-headedness fades away.
It's over. It was nothing more than horrendous nightmares within one large nightmare.
When she opens her tiresome eyes, she finds herself on the very bottom on the stairwell she passed out on. She feels completely exhausted and dehydrated. Her lips and tongue feel as dry as a desert. With trouble, she rises from an uncomfortable positon divided over two steps and stands on normal ground. If it wasn't so darn dirty, she would kiss it.
"Am I glad to be back here…" she says to herself with a little sarcastic optimism.
She looks up to check if she indeed has to be glad to be back. The first impression is certainly not a bad one. There is no red limelight shining down on her. She feels no pressure of the two sets of eyes pressing her down from above.
Krystal exhales. She survived this ordeal, much like the others. But how many more she could withstand before she would forever cringe into a furball, she doesn't know. And hopefully she never has to.
She looks around her direct environment. She stands on a floor of large bricks composed from pieces of coal. From between every brick, a small and thin plume of gooey green, stinking smoke rises up. It's accompanied by a microseism every time one rises. It's like the ground below her burps every now and then. The walls aren't any different, just not burping that smelly smoke.
Krystal turns around to see what must be the last door according to Fox. That Dagon has said that there were nine doors as well, is not on her mind.
There is a pattern engraved on the door, divided in four circles. All of them have a letter in them. The outer circle has a "C", followed by an "A", "P" and finally a "J" for the middle circle. The doorknobs look frozen, something pretty strange in such a hotheaded place.
The final door. Behind this door... Fox has to be there. She clenches her right paw together in a fist. This is the last time Délarbé's personal Hell has played tricks on me. I've won.
However, as if Hell had ears, the whispers begin to return. The red limelight, she was so glad of being gone, shines upon her again. The whispers turn into wild screaming and shouting. Cursing against her and condemning her to a life in the Eternal Fires. Somehow, all that seems too awfully familiar to her after some memories from Cerinia.
Krystal begins to realize that Fox might not have been who he said he was. How was he able to communicate with her while he was imprisoned? Locked away in some dark and far corner, it's not possible to contact Krystal the way he did. She didn't dig too deep into it, deaf for anything that said otherwise.
The voices are getting louder and begin surround her, spinning in circles around her. They follow every move she makes, every step she takes. Running away from them doesn't help and covering her ears has the same effect. She cannot deny... that she has heard this before.
Like a bolt of lightning striking the ground from a dark, rumbling and unsecure sky, it comes to Krystal. Something that she had blocked off for years suddenly opens. A period in her lifetime, she wished to have never experienced.
"I was a... tyrant?"
She suddenly finds herself in a dark room. The room used to be of her parents. She recognizes the bed the most out of all the other furniture and decorations around the room. The silk, purple drapes that graces around it and the upside down chandelier above. That was a spurred purchase in hindsight, not functioning properly. But for decorative reasons, it wasn't removed.
The only light comes from a now lit oil lamp sitting on a desk. A shadow is casted on the wall as someone takes a seat before the lamp. That someone… is no one other than herself. She's is whimpering, her paws covering her face. Her elbows printed into a pillow on the desk.
Krystal comes closer to herself, as quietly as possible. However, in her attempt to remain silent, she hits an unseen object on the carpeted floor. The touch sends out the loudest, metallic sound one could imagine at that point.
Krystal freezes on the spot. Her twin startles and looks up from her paws. She turns around and looks right at Krystal. Her face, so young and yet so messed up. Her eyeliner and mascara have dripped down her cheeks and into her neck, finally stopping at her collar. There it looks like a crusty crop that turned into a scabbed heap.
But she doesn't look at Krystal; more through her. "What are you doing here Hubert?" she asks a person behind her.
The real Krystal turns around to see someone dressed like a butler. The door he opened hit something similar at the same time she hit that unseen object. That was what the younger Krystal heard. What she does, will not be heard or seen in this world.
The butler stands with his upper body in the darkness so she can't identify him. She had so many butlers back then. All with classy named, so that one was named "Hubert" doesn't ring a bell.
"I was just checking on you Queen Krystal." states the butler lightly aloof. "The public hasn't seen you in three days already."
The younger Krystal fusses and turns back to her desk. Her holding paws prevent her forehead from slamming it on the wooden structure. Struggles in her mind cause her to fling the pillow from her desk to her left. Though thrown violently, it hits the wall with a faint and unsatisfying thud. A painful reminder for her.
The diary that lies opened before her on the desk tells it all. From her start as the true Queen of the biggest, most influential Cerinian kingdom to Day 8, where it all suddenly stopped. Random droplets of blood have stained the page where the notes ended. It dripped down her fingers while writing what looks like random scribbles. The blood of her then best friend, main servant and bearer of the name Sciltch.
It's Day 11 now, if the notice on top of the page is to be trusted. "9" and "10" have been crossed out, suggesting that she has been waiting for the right moment to start over. A hard thing as Day 8 ends with the somewhat readable What have I become? Everyone hates me. And the only person who didn't... tasted my blade last night. I thought he was spreading damaging rumors about me. I made sure that he would never speak again.
"This has to stop. This isn't me. I've become drunk with unlimited power and with blinding materialism." she remembers herself thinking out loud after she wrote that down. The pencil she held was drenched with his blood; in a dead-gurgling yell she drops it on the floor because of that.
Her paws covered her mouth as she almost fell with chair and all on the floor. She couldn't possibly comprehend how she could have done that. The guards had to force his mouth open, which was a chore to looking back on it. Her right paw went into his ripped open mouth, meeting the air coming from his vocal chords that should be correctly manipulated by the tongue into "Please Krystal! Don't do this! I beg you!" Then, it was nothing but air to her as her fingers circled around his tongue and pulled it out with all her might.
She placed the knife somewhere on the middle of the tongue's surface. Her eyes moved over to meet his teary-eyed ones. His look pleading for forgiveness. For something he didn't do and she knew that very well. But Krystal turned the other cheek and ignored her part in this completely. With an aura of psychopathic calmness surrounding her, not a speck of shrinking back, she started to cut through his tongue.
A horrid, slashing sound erupts from the tongue. The same sound she heard when she busted through the 8th door. The splatter that came from the sliced veins splashed on her face and the wall behind her. The last thing his eyes saw was the cold, unsatisfied and even blood-thirsty look on Krystal's face before passing out.
Three days later she found herself in this position. Three days after she heard that he died a few hours later from losing too much blood. Overcome with shame and guilt, she took a seat behind the desk. Tossing aside any sort of document that had nothing to do with her. She was glued to that desk ever since. Overthinking what went so wrong.
"They all hate me Hubert." says the younger Krystal as she flips through the first written pages of her diary, re-experiencing all that has happened.
The occurring's like the chastity belt taken off by Sciltch, the self-enrichment, her wrath for power, her own organized inquisition and finally the so-called "accident" that the town that couldn't pay its raised taxes was plagued by murder and suicide, of which the army, under Krystal's order, was claimed responsible. Denied however by Krystal.
"How can I possibly win back their trust? Oh… if my parents could see me now." she whimpers on.
Hubert haggles to clear his throat, also winning some time to come up with the right sentence. "I think Queen Krystal, that the Peaceful Three Days you have proclaimed had some good effect. Morale within our army has been restored by some degree and we are getting more positive feedback from all the temples and towns you have given the possibility to rebuild."
She grabs a paper that lies next to her diary and shows it to Hubert, coming closer to read it. It's a declaration of war by an unknown enemy. When the current Krystal reads it, she knows the enemy none other than Andross himself with what he himself called the Dark Army. Not very farfetched but it definitely got the message across.
The declaration announces the total destruction of her Cerinian kingdom, the last one to stand in his way of total victory over all of Cerinian. Commencing in nine days from that point on.
"My Queen… th-that is horrible!" says Hubert showing some sort of emotion for once. "And certainly since it's that Dark Army that is circulating as wildfire amongst the people." he adds to it.
Tell Krystal about it. "I know." she sighs deep and panicky. "And with the population already hating me… urgh… I just don't know anymore!"
"Might I suggest something?"
"No Hubert." dismisses Krystal stubborn, wanting to be alone in her own misery. "No you may not. Leave now. I'm going to do… s-something. I don't know what."
The room disappears when everything freezes, no matter the motion. Krystal doesn't need to see what happened after this. The memory she had witnessed refreshed her memory, opening up a part she wished to remain hidden forever.
After Hubert left that night, she wrote in her diary again. This time, it was more positive, less murderous and starting to look more like what a ruling Queen would write down. After a not so terrific start, she caught into the drift. Accusations she wrote down and made to herself turned into bright solutions. Minutes passed faster than ever before as she shredded thought ink jar after ink jar. After she had written down what needed to be written down, she grabbed a robe from a hook attached on the wall and a ring from the nightstand. She left the room through a secret passage that only members of her family know about. A tunnel leading out of the castle complex.
She left the castle, concealed within the large robe that came with a thick hood to hide her face in. It was her father's hunter's robe. Fluffy with leathery feeling, this brown robe was the perfect outfit for when going out to hunt. It was also his disguise to crowd in and experience how the normal population thought of his ruling over the kingdom. Adjusting his policy and laws according to the wishes of the many.
The ring around her finger, her mother's, is hidden within the sleeve. That ring, the beacon of justice and forgiveness. Her mother seen as the Angel of Redemption for the fallen and blasphemed. Lady Justice was a mere self-proclaimed braggart when it came to the deifying that went around her mother. It glows in case it leaves castle grounds; it could give her away.
She feels those reputations as superior shadows over her as are the robe and the ring around her finger. On the other, both feel like a parental hug from both her parents. A hug she hasn't experienced for 11 days.
Krystal entered an old fortress, considered miniscule by her standards. Then again, it's mostly disappeared underground, leaving only the entrance and one tower above the ground. The front door is ajar, suggesting someone has entered this place before.
She opened the door completely. The moonlight behind her gave the room some well-deserved lighting. Inside, she found nothing but a cramped round room. And ahead, a corridor blocked off by rubble. The whole ceiling came falling down along with even the side of a wall. Several iron balls, lying scratched and damaged in between the mess seem to have been the destroyers.
In the middle of room was a hole with a ladder going down. It was dark down there and rumbling, growling and snarling noises came from down there. It gave strangers and thugs there to scavenge and plunder the impression that this is some pit where hungry beasts await to devour those unfortunate enough to fall in.
However, she knew where it led to. The ladder is deceiving about its appearance. It looks like it reaches down the very depths of Cerinia, but it just leads to a small platform that is cleverly hidden just below the blanket of darkness.
And the sounds are produced by an intriguing system using the heat of the flowing lava streams below the planet's crust. The steam that came from it would be blown into horns and flutes that would produce these sounds. She never really understood how it worked; that system is ancient and a died-down family secret.
She climbed down the ladder and stepped on the platform. The platform was nothing but a round, stone tablet with numerous drawings engraved into it. From useless messages to actual ancient artwork. She gave the middle of the platform three firm ticks with the heel of her shoe in order to activate it.
The platform descended at a very controlled rate, effectively making it the ancient equivalent of the elevator. The darkness around her gave way for a bright and bluish underground cave lit by magical crystal giving the blue radiation to the chamber. The small, rocky platforms floated freely in the air. They were all circling around one gigantic rock, large enough to form its own town.
In the middle of that rock, a large spiraling and whirling stream of bright blue energy shoots up from down below towards the Cerinian surface. It's a stream of power coming from Cerinia's core. It's said to have a healing effect on all living creatures on the surface. It's essentially the air they breathe, the food they consume and the force that keeps the planet from falling like apart.
The platform redirects itself towards that large rock as that is where Krystal needs to be. As she comes ever closer, she sees something she never wanted to see in her life; her parents hooked up to that stream.
Numerous infuses have been implanted in their arms, neck, face and main body. Aside from underwear and a bra, they are completely naked. The contraptions that they are lying in remind her of an oversized incubator. For adults only.
The platform attaches itself against the giant rock so that Krystal can step on. The sound of the connection echoed in every direction in that very empty and hollow place. Krystal took a first good look around this place, as she was stuck in a never-ending stare that focused solely on staring straight ahead during the way down.
The rocks that she saw earlier had circled around the platform she was on in the blink of an eye. Every row that is further away from her and is raised an inch higher than the previous. It gave the illusion of being in a giant arena, with her being the gladiator about to fight for her life.
But that is not the point of why she was there. She was here to confront her parents, no matter their state of being.
Eleven days it has been. Eleven days since they have contracted that horrible disease. Eleven days… since they have given me the crown and authority to rule. I just... wasn't r-ready.
The sight of her parents lying in those mechanical contraptions was heartbreaking for her. The only two people in this entire universe that would forever love and cherish her no matter what, had turned into paralyzed, scraggy version of their former selves.
Strapped on by tons of cables, numerous difficult looking devices and injected by needles stuck every free pore. Their vitality completely sapped out of their bodies. Skin so dry and wrinkled… it looked sickening. They were beyond Death's Door, far from at it.
But most importantly for Krystal was that they were not moving. Not breathing and not talking to her. Anything that suggested that they were still alive and kicking. Though they were aware of what happened around them and on the surface, they couldn't react, halt or reply to it. Something Krystal really needed at this and several other moments in the past days.
With shuddering legs and a turning stomach, she walked towards the blue energy stream blasting itself upwards from the core. She stops in between the incubators and stands there for several bland moments. Her legs finally can't bare it anymore before collapsing under the weight of her shame and lingering silence.
On her hands and knees, she bows her head. Tears couldn't be held back any longer, not even by her closed eyelids when she starts to scream out loud.
"Mother! Father! I need you! I can't do this on my own anymore!" she pleads as her paws clench in a venting of misplaced anger. "Why did you leave me alone? At moment when I needed you must? You knew I wasn't ready for this!"
With the end of that sentence, the end of any sound has come. What she had hoped, was something of a reaction from either one of her parents. The wise King or the deified Queen, but either remained painfully silent. The unwished tranquility takes over again and Krystal had to suffer its pounding weight crashing down on her again.
"Mother… Father… I'm so sorry for what you have witnessed." she mumbles a little more aimed at herself as well. "I can't express my regret of how I treated you. I was rebellious and oblivious to what you taught me… what was right."
Her words had a more powerful message than she thought at first. She was the one who caused it all. Such an act of power abuse was her responsibility and not that of her parents.
The moment she realized that, she recollected all over her leftover strength. It was hard to find it but through determination she gathered enough to overthrow her pushing of the blame onto anyone else but herself.
She rose from the ground with some trouble. The adrenaline that began to flow throughout her body, mixed with a good portion of anxiety and nervousness it made her shudder even worse than she already was.
But in the end, she stood upright when she promised clemently to follow her parents' example and to make up for all the trouble she caused in what has already been dubbed as the "8 Days of Rage" or "The Great Crystal Rush" by most of her subjects.
She left after that promise triggered no response either. After a humble bow taken, the platform took her to the surface again. She was able to get back into the castle without anyone noticing her.
It was very late and the night wasn't going to stay young forever. It was 3:24AM when she dived into her bed, already making up her plans for the future. Hours she lied on her back, staring at the ceiling on her parents' bed, only thinking and pondering. Of how to tackle this unknown aggressor and his Dark Army that had declared war on her and her kingdom and how to soothe the uproarious crowds.
She came up with excellent ideas in order to restore peace to the region and the declaration would serve very well in achieving that goal. She would announce the declaration the next morning and order the gradual evacuation of all civilians unable to fight over the course of several days. First the sick, poor and the elderly, then the lower class families followed by the craftsman, blacksmiths and the middle and upper-class till all the remained were her soldiers. The evacuees would find shelter in the safe countryside, far from the towns within the castle walls were soon a battle would commence.
The declaration wouldn't be of any real significance until Day 20; however this unknown enemy had other plans. Around 6AM, still in the dark, it began to rain Hell from above.
Fiery balls of death fell upon the surrounding towns and cities of the castle. Projectiles ranging from a huge boulder to iron balls; nothing was out of the ordinary. Sometimes, even prisoners of war captured during previous battles were tied up on one of these projectiles. Then and only then, the stones were lit.
The rain took twenty long and agonizing minutes before the enemy stalled the barrage. Only the towns on the south side of the complex were affected; more or less bombed to smithereens.
That was the impression on first glance. The reality was less impressive. The fires that were spread were quickly isolated and extinguished. Despite all the gruesome looking destruction of houses turned to ashes and the smell of rotten corpses that hung around, there were surprisingly few victims that fell prey to the raining death. Those who survived, where either very endurable or completely off the charts.
But Krystal didn't seem to be demoralized by all of this. Though it was clearly the enemy's intention, Krystal instead managed to pull together a one-sided smile she watched the incinerated remains of some of the southern towns from her balcony. With the early morning sun shining right in her eyes, she knew that this was a divine opportunity for her.
This act of violence wasn't condoned by Krystal. On the contrary, however she saw a way to put her plan in motion even faster. She ordered the evacuation of all citizens except for the soldiers and craftsman. Furthermore, she tasked messengers to bring the news of the declaration to other tribes still fighting or otherwise resisting the enemy's ever-growing hold on Cerinia.
At the end of Day 12, the entire surrounding area the castle has been stripped from a living soul. Towns left for the ghosts and empty streets made it a grim sight to look at. It had become a buffer against the upcoming enemy. Dead silence was the norm and smile wasn't seen on anyone's faces.
However, Krystal would quickly change that.
She declared that Day 14 would become the Day of Reinforcement and Morale as Day 13 was a day of grief. Craftsmen, blacksmiths and weapon engineers who stayed behind worked throughout the day to strengthen the troops and the castle guards. New weapons like crossbows, improved artillery and armor of top notch quality. Watchtowers were quickly built to oversee all.
Aside from all the work that has being put into toughening the soldiers and the army, this day was also a way to converse with one another. Parties and other festivities were held amongst castle grounds including the wide open gardens and the untouched parts of the towns.
The air was filled with upbeat Cerinian music as the parties continued into the late hours of the night. Dancing around an enormous bonfire in the middle of a town square, food of kingly proportions and quality in abundance mixed with newly made comradeships and connections between families.
The normal civilian, a young and inexperienced blacksmith who had to take over from his grandfather who was evacuated two days ago, sitting down next to what till Day 9 looked like the bringer of death; the common soldier of Krystal's Army. What was tense soon turned mellow and cozy. All they did was exchanging stories and experiences like old friends. Under the pleasure of an alcohol-rich beverage, they drink to and thought about the future.
Amongst all the merrymakings, there was one person who excluded herself from it all. Queen Krystal would just stand on the balcony, hours passing by her like a quick breeze.
On Day 17, the tribes that were still standing and loyal to Krystal had arrived. Some came voluntarily, others were forced after being defeated or expelled from their land by the Dark Army.
Amongst all the tribes, it was Adonis' tribe that was a pleasant surprise. The most well-known and skilled warriors with a reputation that exceeded the bravest actions any men could ever commit. All tribes agreed to form an alliance with Krystal's army and hold the castle and surrounding townships as Cerinia's last stand.
The tribes were brought in as heroes and very welcome additions to Krystal's army. The leaders were invited to stay in the castle as guests of honor. Some agreed, others wanted to stay amongst their foot folk and soldiers.
The feasts of Day 14 were held once more, only this time even more elaborate.
The night before war would break out in all its vileness, Adonis, now an honored resident of Krystal's castle, found her majesty on that balcony. According to rumors and chit-chat going around the castle and the lads from the army, she looked out over horizon for days at an end after she had visited her parents.
The tears she had shed, mixed with her black make-up were tattooed onto her cheeks. Eyes so full of doubt over the outcome and yet so determined to do what needs to be done, stared into the moonlight. Witnessing something so beautiful, as if it's the last time she would ever see that.
Her white face gave a bright reflection that was visible to everyone who looked up. This occurrence was for many a representation of Krystal's mother. Her idyllic appearance was also present in Krystal. For others, it became a symbol for her Father's leadership flowing through her veins, awaiting the enemy from afar and ready to counter. And another group saw it as a symbol for a collapsing yet strongly opposing Cerinia.
The Queen of Rage and the Crystal Rush had become a symbol for the Cerinian opposition against the unknown and savage enemy. To her surprise, she was toasted to by everyone who saw her from down below. Upholders of her mother's grace, her father's ruling or those who saw that symbol in her, raised their glass, cup or chalice for her.
It was finally there. The morning of Day 20. The declaration had significance and the Dark Army was closer than ever.
Whereas with the previous mornings, where Krystal stood on her balcony and greeted the morning sun, she had nothing gracious to greet this time. Instead of the usual blood orange colored sun, slowly rising from the line called the horizon, all she saw were black clouds coming towards her.
A very aged primate's face appeared in those clouds and observed Krystal's kingdom like a stalking lion lying in ambush, awaiting the arrival of its prey. Krystal on the other hand was not planning on becoming a prey; at least not one that doesn't fight back.
In a swift movement, she grabbed her staff that lied untouched by any hand on the balcony for days and aimed for the primate's appearance in the darkness. Bold passion burned away the doubt in her eyes as the make-up stained tears tattooed on her cheeks were brightly reflecting the light coming from her charging staff.
She closed her eyes and inhaled what could be her last bundle of Cerinian air. Immense silence and focus surrounded her like a mystical veil. Those who saw her appearance fell in deep silence as well. Her exhaling was seemingly heard from miles away. Before she fearlessly uttered the simple yet so important line: "Sohadau veholoh." Cerinia forever.
From the tip of her staff, a bundle of energy and light was fired towards the dark clouds in distance. The recoil catches Krystal by surprise as she's knocked down on the ground. She lands painfully hard on her back but sees that her projectile is going the right way; straight for the core.
The projectile, as powerful and fiery as a sun yet so gracious as the brightest of colors circulating in the bundle make a rainbow look like a phony, hits the center of the dark clouds hard. Immense rumbling and thundering noises from the Heart of Darkness are the result. The primate's face wricked and contorted while it screamed with nothing but a strong whirlwind leaving his gaping mouth. It smelled disgusting, just an awful taste of what the Dark Army would be like.
The face disappeared into the clouds with an angered look in its eyes. There was no sign of backing down however as the dark masses emerged from beneath the cloud cover and began their storm towards the outer walls of the castle.
Alarms were raised and echoed throughout the townships and the halls of the castle. A call to arms was heard by everyone able to fight as the remaining were kept within the deepest complexes of the castle for safety. The remnants of Cerinia were ready for the battle of their lives.
Meanwhile, Krystal has collected herself again. She shook her pain away with a violent shake of her head, from left to right. She too witnessed the armies getting closer and within a split-second decided their fate; subjection to satisfying revenge.
With a single tap of her staff on the ground below her, Krystal ordered the artillery to fire with everything they have got. The advancing armada, a mass of heathenish reptilian creatures padded in perfect black coated armor to look like a storm, met the same fate as the poor civilians had to suffer through on Day 12.
Fireballs rained from the skies and exploded upon impact. Groups of five to even ten men at the same time were blown away as a whole with every incoming fireball. The particles released from the explosion would act as vile shrapnel, sticking and stabbing their way into legs, arms and uncovered necks. Ignited particles would help spread wildfire amongst the fields.
However, Krystal had to halt the successful strikes as ammunition ran out much faster than she thought. The moment she turned around to receive this information, the dark army had reached the walls already. Soldiers on those walls were consumed by a tsunami of an ever advancing festering black pest.
Once inside, the battle was already decided as the masses easily took care of Krystal's army, even with the tribes that joined. The enemy could smell victory over the scent of blood inside their primary target: the castle. But more importantly, the pleasant vision the Cerinian Queen's decapitated head stabbed onto a wooden pike was imprinted on their blood ridden eyes. Krystal tried her best keeping them at distance from the castle, launching projectile after projectile from her staff.
But all in vain; the castle doors snapped like twigs after only one mighty battering. Inside, true carnage occurred. The castle staff, guards were mutilated, beaten, tortured, raped and hopefully for them found salvation in being killed. The red of drooping blood became the new color of castle interior. And when it looked like it couldn't get any worse, the civilians that were kept in the deepest complexes were found. The complexes turned into a Smörgåsbord.
In only a matter of minutes, her solid looking defense was overwhelmed and morale plummeted all over. Soldiers that were left to fend for themselves dropped their arms, duty and order and fled all over. It gave the enemy a good laugh as the running soldiers were easy targets for their shooters and archers.
Krystal could hear them storming up the stairs towards her room. She ran from the balcony towards the door and began barricading it with various furniture. It was hard to do, as she was holding the staff in one, while the other paw was moving the pieces. The staff was steadily aimed at the door, should uninvited guests decide to break through them.
Uppermost concentration printed on Krystal's mind was suddenly broken when multiple fists began bashing on the door, with familiar male voices screaming to let them in. She recognized the voices as Adonis and his clan and dropped everything she held in her paws to rush to the door. The handle suddenly felt more slippery than usual, which caused her grip to be minimal. A muscle-contraction on top of that wasn't wished for either.
Despite that ache and strain, she opened the door to have Adonis and a few other clan members nearly tremble her. The door was slammed shut and the slightly moved furniture was put into place. Adonis, who quickly reclaimed his breath and realized his mistake by helping Krystal back up on her feet.
After some brief apologies, Adonis explained that all of his and Krystal's forces have been overrun and demolished. Except for the men that were with him.
"They are a black wave of destruction that absorb and consume everything." He shudders for a split-second. "We were lucky to escape the carnage. But this will not hold out for long." he added pointing at the door.
"Not necessary." answers Krystal very casually, recovered from the surprise raid. "We take the sneaky route out of here. I used it several nights ago to visit my parents' chamber."
Adonis sees no problem in that. "My men will hold the door for as long as possible. It will be only a minute but we can put every available second to good use."
"Agreed." says Krystal quickly as she grabs her father's robe and mother's ring. "Let's get out of this forsaken place."
Krystal and Adonis fled the castle just as the barricade failed to hold. Adonis' men fought with all they had but were quickly overpowered. One by one were hung by their necks over the so iconic balcony so that the enemy could flaunt with their victory and the fall of the last and burning Cerinian stronghold.
Adonis wanted to go back in order to teach that vermin a lesson or two. Krystal pulled him away for his own good. The two didn't come very far however; a local patrol spotted them and blew their horns. Though they took care of the patrol with ease, the armada was alerted. They came from all directions, encircling Krystal and Adonis and making escape impossible.
Just as Adonis drew his weapons to die honorably in battle, he got tugged away by Krystal who had a way better idea than any more bloodshed for a while. She took Adonis to the old fortress and descended down to her parents' chamber.
"So this is why you were suddenly proclaimed Queen." figured Adonis pretty impressed at the sight of Krystal's parents in the machines. And then he hasn't even become aware of the blue stream towering towards the surface's crust.
"This is a sacred place Adonis." said Krystal on a cold tone. "Please respect it."
"Of course." he redeemed himself by withdrawing his curious paws before touching anything. "Why did you take me here?"
Krystal turned around. "Because this will be our last stand. It's them, us or the entire planet."
"The entire planet!?" replies Adonis perplexed. "What are you jabbering about?"
She simply pointed at the stream. "If I manage to overcharge this, all that are considered enemies by those who are connected to it... will be annihilated." she stated with a dramatic clenching fist. "In this case, that vermin outside is the enemy and my parents are those connected to it."
"And the entire planet thing?"
"Disrupting the stream in such a way... will cause the planet to destabilize. Therefore overcharging the core. And then... boom." She looked Adonis right in the eye as she asked the impossible question: "Are you with me?"
Adonis could barely conceive nor comprehend that question but in his astonishment he seemingly said something resembling a "Yes".
"Good." said Krystal with a nod as she turned to the stream. "Await their arrival. Once they begin to overwhelm... warn me."
"And that was when guilt kicked in?" suggests Dagon's voice out of nowhere, breaking immersion.
Krystal's vision shatters completely after being rudely interrupted like that. With her head cringed into her lifted shoulders and with a steaming temper, very unhappy to hear that cursed voice again, she turns around to find that Dagon is indeed standing behind her. He ditched the robe for something a little different, but it's the shadow he's in that conceals the whole outfit.
"Trying to blend into the environment honey?" she cracks sarcastic, holding back a burst of anger knowing that will have no zero effect. "Cause in that case..."
"I'm not shoving away what I know is the truth... doll." replies Dagon with an emphasizing and biting tendency on that last word, putting Krystal in her place again. "I know what I' am and I accept it to the fullest."
"In contrary to me?" Pfff. This is getting sooooo predictable...
"Don't try to get sassy Krystal. I'm not the one with guilt. Why did you think you remembered? Even better; most of the details you remembered, you weren't even aware of back then. How could you possibly know that the walls were smeared with the blood of your loyal soldiers?"
Krystal waves it off as just rambling to avoid getting confused about the whole situation. She folds her arms stubbornly and turns away from Dagon to approach the last door leading to Fox. This is how she remembered it and counts for something. Besides, over what should she feel guilt? She did nothing wrong from Day 12 on. In fact, the kingdom was even more successful than before her reign.
"Well then… if you don't see it that way. It's your choice." hands Dagon to her. "However, it was you who finally decided to do it."
Krystal stops, as if the truth was a wall she walked into. The same sentence she heard in the beginning of the vision begins to repeat itself indefinitely in her right ear with that whispering voice.
Disrupt the stream Krystal! Do it now or we'll be goners!
Disrupt the stream Krystal! Do it now or we'll be goners!
Disrupt the stream Krystal! Do it now or we'll be goners!
Disrupt the stream Krystal! Do it now or we'll be goners!
"They are coming closer! I can't hold them off any longer. Krystal! You have to disrupt the stream! It's our only hope!"
That last sentence hits her ear like a small bomb blast from only a millimeter away. Vividly, she remembers Adonis fighting off the massive group, the black glob of invading reptilians while holding her fire-projectile firing staff. She turned around when the projectiles were nothing more than a drop of water on a wildfire. She found herself so close to the blue stream that the tip of her nose actually began to get sunburn.
That exact sentence was the reason for her to thrust her charged staff right into the stream. For a few seconds, nothing more than a faint sound of a machine shutting down was heard. A few agonizingly nerve-wracking ticks to accompany that… before finally a shockwave erupted from the stream that knocked Krystal and Adonis on the ground.
The armada inside the room dissolved into dust and ash right before their eyes. The troops outside aren't left untouched either. Either on the grassy fields, behind a wall or in whatever building; one by one are reduced to nothing.
Krystal and Adonis picked themselves up to exhale and embrace each other in pure relieve. Only they survived a hard-fought battle. An emotional moment that caught Krystal by surprise, letting a tear go.
However, celebrations were brief. The peaceful blue stream began to act like a tornado and spun out of control. A blood red, out of control whirlwind began to scorch the crust above, drilling through it and wreaking havoc. Boulders fell from the ceiling and started to tear up the rock Krystal and Adonis were standing on.
The two escaped in time with a lot of luck and reached the surface, only to find it in way worse conditions than underground. The sky shattering and everything green pulverized. The burning castle complex reduced to rubble as massive earthquakes and fissures set in. Krystal and Adonis were separated by one.
"And finally I fled from my doomed planet." she sighs; only now realizing the magnitude of her actions. She blew her own home planet up with the excuse of saving herself and Adonis. And he might not even have survived that.
"Shouldn't you be proud?" questions Dagon rhetorical, folding his arms in an ego-stroking manner. "I mean… you did what seemed best for your cause. Yet here you are… feeling like you committed high treason."
He starts to get a fanged grin biting into his lower lip. Along with a deep, ominous chuckle to cope with it. He just can't resist it. Why should he? He has Krystal right where he wants her to be. It's recognition for his hard work, proving that he can make Krystal psychologically cringe much like Délarbé always does. Proving he's perfectly able to do this on his own if he wanted to.
He points an ever more confused and head aching Krystal to the door she was so eager to open only minutes ago. The door leading to Fox looks a lot less tempting. Cracked, Krystal turns around and approaches the door with in wee bit ramshackle fashion.
The doorknobs on the closed doors are frozen with icicles hanging underneath it. The circles she saw before have turned into distorted lines with runic markings for letters. Dagon's stamp on her mind, forever branded onto it.
With no feeling in her paws or even in the whole motion, she turns the left knob counter-clockwise and the right clockwise, just like the entrance where Panther and Estelle were hung by their necks. Outlining of their signature on the walls next to each side of the door doesn't help in forgetting that. The doors open before her as she enters into undiscovered territories.
They close behind her, hearing a locking sound a second later. Dagon comes out of the shadows, calling up a haze that shrouds him again. Amongst that haze, the Sons of Plunder come out of hiding. Being sneaky and observant little punks that were spying on Krystal the whole time from corners or inlets in the walls. Acting like moving camera's for Délarbé to observe the whole thing.
They have a liking for Dagon's actions, attitude and appeal. They begin crawling all over him, like excited little bugs. One clamps itself on his back, another covers his crotch area and the third one his left upper leg. They harden and become part of Dagon's new yet unseen attire, acting as reinforced armor. Two even take seat on Dagon's shoulder and turn into improvised gargoyles, showing support for Dagon's state of being before all this happened.
He's humbled but doesn't show it, keeping up a prestigious attitude. With the grin still painted on his face, though his fangs are behind his lips now, he walks towards the doors that closed behind Krystal. The doors begin to rumble and shake wildly, the closer Dagon gets. But they won't open wide like he would like.
He sniffs like a mad bull as his eyebrows drop down towards his eyes. The gaze he gives the door would be enough to make a grown man cringe and cower away in fear; the door shows a similar effect.
They crumble into little bits and pieces, until a hole perfectly fitting his body is formed. The two little gargoyles are accounted for.
It's much like some stupid game show he saw a while back, so called Hole-in-the-Wall. Taking a break from all the caretaking, he wanted to check out how much the mortal world had changed after he was luckily plucked from that cursed place. In the darkness of midnight, remaining unseen for any naked eye, he managed to spot a turned on television where he saw that program.
He spits on the ground. "Distasteful beings those mortals. Interesting and tasty but so damn ignorant." he monologues to himself. He has the chance for it so why shouldn't he?
"Luckily, I was pulled away from that Hell and placed into Heaven." he proclaims almost deifying, though it turns more into a quick Thank you, now beat it.
"He might have saved me from certain depression due to a lack of activity... and I'm thankful for that. And I owe him for that. However... when push comes to shove, it is I who decides who he serves!"
The haze fills up the hole in the door as Dagon walks right through it. "I've done something Délarbé couldn't come up with: a new dimension in her Tour de Diablè. She had no idea that all those doors, where portals that traveled through the Nine Circles of Hell. Beginning in Limbo and ending with what bothered her the most: Treachery!"
The best part being, she broke through all of them without thinking twice. She accepted her sins without knowing it herself.
Dagon feels omnipotent as he leaves the door behind. A simple snap of the fingers is enough to have it implode in itself, leaving no escape for both Krystal and him. But he doesn't mind not getting out of here; neither is Krystal.
The haze is thick, getting chillier and begins to smell like rotten eggs. A more typical scent for something called a place of damnation. But Dagon sees right through it, able to sense and smell Krystal's increasing fear, panic and hopelessness through every obstacle.
"No one was never able to be put me under someone's control. Frankly, the only reason I even followed orders from that betraying bastard The Gatekeeper was because I had accepted that my fate was to be a demon. And eventually I enjoyed being one."
And now that I have the power to back up that choice in spades... I'll show Délarbé, Krystal and the whole mortal realm that I'm not a chewing toy in their hands, rather the one holding the noose in my hands before their eyes.