Act 5 of Perfect Insanity is here. The first ~1000 words are called "Entries from either side of the crust". By this I mean the crust of a planet, the part where beings live on. The three dots in the middle is the separation. You can figure out the rest for yourselves. Enjoy!
Entries from either side of the crust
"I had an amazing time. The past two days have been the most incredible and the most adrenaline pumping days of my entire life. I feel alive again! Especially after you curb-stomped that fool who tried to rob me."
"It was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I mean; every real man would protect that which he desires, loves and cares for."
"Did you just tell me that you love me?"
"Don't tell me you didn't know."
"Well it would explain those looks you gave in the car. That… I mean those sparks in your eyes said so much. And not to forgot how the color came back into your eyes when I wanted you to come along before I left."
"But you didn't leave. We encountered that deviant, he unveiled that terrible relationship and I brought you away."
"I'm so glad you did. Bygones are bygones though. What do you say about tomorrow? Got time then?"
"I always have time for you. I'll see you tomorrow then."
...
"You will encounter some of the greatest evil you've ever laid your eyes upon. Disguised in the blinding innocence and the deceiving beauty of a woman. She will claim to know you and indeed knows very fundamental things about you. To the point of knowing various specifics you thought you had held a secret. She will also try to make you into something you never were. Do not, under any condition, fall for her lies. Many good men have suffered her agonizing torment. She has destroyed the will, the soul and the hearts of every man she came across. I can know; a very good friend of mine suffered a fate similar."
"I won't fail. I will find us a way out of this place. I will find this creature and I will kill it so that we may finally leave this place."
"Go then. Slay the demoness. You know how to call upon me."
"I will father. But… can you reveal your face then? Seeing your eyes and hearing your voice is comforting, but I long for the day to see your face again."
"As soon as you have released us from this terrible evil, I will be released and then I can show my face to you again."
"I understand father. I will not let you down."
(R)Act 5: The former servant
Darkness.
Just a random thought that crosses her mind as she stares off into the distance. Her bum in the mud, her knees up and as close to her face as possible. Her arms lie on top of her knees and provide a comfortable chin-support for her tired head. She has been staring for about a good quarter of an hour but she doesn't have a stopwatch to know for sure. Trying to make out silhouettes in what she perceives as distant shadows within the fog that may come to free her from this hellhole is somewhat unlikely at best.
She has noticed, most obviously, that she has grown significantly more cynical about the situation. The more thought she gave it, the closer she seemed to come to reclaiming what she considered as happiness, the further away it got and the more painful it became that it was so. There was always a sucker punch to her stomach or a horrifying hallucination filled with very heavy and emotional themes from her past. Cerinia was one of the biggest things. She wished that nothing of that time would ever be explored again. Let alone having those memories exploited to toy with her like marionette.
She sighs deep, indecisively exchanging glances with anything that differences from bland fog, painfully tedious drifting by. Her gazing eyes are stripped from any sort of spark or vividness. They look dry and dull, as if all the life has been sucked out of it. The perfect blue of the iris that is such a prominent feature of her appearance, on which she has received many great compliments worthy of a blush or two, has become dim and vague. Her ears are lowered and look very weak and floppy. The cartilage in there could use some spine right now.
A hollow yet satisfying chuckle emerges from her slightly opened mouth a fragile second after she exhales. Perhaps she's not all that far gone when she can at least react with humor to a petty play on words as she has been talking to herself.
I guess sulking here in the sand isn't the way to get back what I want. Should I give it one more try? That is the reason why I'm still breathing, right? Wait… why am I questioning myself? Wake up Krystal and face reality you puny bitch! It's only a matter of time and fiddling around before the double-D's are right about you.
Uttering another chuckle mixed with a constipated groan, she stands up from her sad, cringed position that mostly resembles the fetal position. An unusual upright fetal position instead of the normal horizontal one. And why that analogy came up to her is anyone's guess.
She cleans herself up, which only highlights the declining quality and state of her purple suit. It has dirty smears everywhere. They became disgustingly crusty over time and look like scabs having an infection. Along with that are rips and tears bigger than a black hole. Her own hyperbolic look on this makes it all the worse.
Still that tad of growing cynicism, an incubus she wishes to throw off as fast as possible. It just isn't her to be the cynical type. She's more the quirky critical type who knows what good is for her and doesn't involve in what could benefit others. And what is good for her at this moment, is not to lose her mind and to make sure her goal is not clouded by distractions; she has her love Fox to save from imprisonment.
Having her mind straight again doesn't mean she has any clue where she needs to go. It is not like she can through the dense mist. "Shit." is all she can exclaim. "How the heck am I supposed to find my way? I guess sitting here isn't helping anything so…" She sighs. "… I should take the risk and venture into the unknown."
Boldly said, she takes her first steps away from the shore with a shaking body. It's that cold she knows very well. Always a painful reminder of her being in this hellhole. She crosses her arms in an effort to keep herself warm, but it's more like a tick she has developed. Much like her thumb rubbing against her ring finger. As if it's programmed into her. It makes her growl internally to know that this might be permanent. Both Dagon and Délarbé have messed with her so much that it slowly breaks her strong will off, piece for piece. She doesn't know for how she can hold on. She doesn't know anything to be honest. For how long she has been here, if anything in the world outside has changed, if Fox is still alive, if she's all alone…
All these questions are giving me a huge headache… she groans stumbling on. Time passes on; each step feels like it takes five minutes and a whole mountain to move. It doesn't help that the soil beneath her is getting mushy and begins to show characteristics of quicksand. The scent in the air thickens and turns muskier. A familiar hint of rotten eggs return and burns the insides of her nostrils. She's too weak however to cover her nose; she's can be grateful that she can still feel her arms.
In the distance, she can hear faint moaning and voices come from almost every direction. It isn't so much impressing or frightening as it is maddening. Once in a while, a vision blur torments her and her inner ear, causing her to wobble around like a drunk and have the balance of a cat without its whiskers. At times, it makes her think like this has been going on for a very long time. While at another moment she tries to stay sane. It's an exhausting inner struggle which makes her question reality.
M-maybe I should take a break. This place… is messing with me. For how long have I've been wandering? She falls to her knees in a defeated fashion, sighing deeply. Her forehead frowns piqued as she looks up at the way ahead. More importantly, for how long will I be wandering?
Her lowered ears suddenly perk up in the air as fast as bear trap snaps shut. It is the indistinguishable sound of gunfire. A sound that would normally make her run and hide until she found one of her own or was close enough to observe who is shooting. In this situation however, it's the sound of something that she knows couldn't possibly be demonic or outer worldly.
Krystal stands up from her kneeled position and peers into the distance where the gunfire is coming from. She can see a dim silhouette coming closer to her, and he or she is struggling. Floundering like a man in fire or lime. Shooting away with a handgun at something she cannot perceive. Krystal doesn't hesitate one moment and sprints towards the silhouette, which is more limbed brisk walking.
Of no matter as Krystal feels that she's finally going somewhere. She could have a potential comrade to share this madness with. That would break that endless loneliness that has been bugging her and her ring finger. That finger has almost been cleansed from all its skin cells, so much and so hard has she been rubbing the empty spot where her ring once was. And adding to that is protection. An armed partner by her side would make her far less nervous walking around this madness.
There is also a darker side to her train of thought. If he fails to fight off with what it's struggling, she could nick the gun and use it herself. It's not going to be the first thing she'll be going for but a backup plan is never a bad thing.
Fortunately, she doesn't have to think about the latter anymore. The silhouette fires his last shot at something on his left arm and that something growls high-pitched, suggesting it was a fatal shot.
"And stay dead hell spawn!" bellows the silhouette as Krystal approaches him. Her eyes dart wide open when she hears his voice; she recognizes that voice like none other.
Impossible! He-he… has been dead for years! she thinks as she takes two steps closer. Krystal can see the person now and it was exactly the person she expected it would be. It's a male grey wolf with fuzzy coal-black hair and he looks at directly in the eye. A large scar runs over his muzzle and a large scald sits around his left eye. He's dressed rather casual, wearing nothing more than a plain black shirt, some lighter and much dirtier pants which are held up by a belt with a knife attached to it. She gasps and takes a small startled step back. The male grey wolf notices this and looks kind of surprised at her reaction. As if to say "what did I do wrong?"
S-ciltch… that can't be!
Krystal doesn't have much time to be shocked as the creature that was presumed dead, comes back to the world of the living. It sets its target right away, leaps towards Sciltch and bites him right in his left arm. Sciltch roars out in pain, causing him to lose grip on his handgun and flings his arm around in an effort to get the gnawing demon spawn of his arm. Instantly, Krystal dashes towards the handgun that fell on the ground.
She picks it up and aims at the struggle. Since it is Sciltch, she doesn't have to follow her darker backup plan. Instead, she aims for the little bugger and pulls the trigger once it comes in the sights of the gun. One pull of the trigger and a small lead shell punctures its way into the little demon's skull. It utters one shrill cut-off scream before it falls off of Sciltch's arm and onto the ground with a loud thud. In its open maw, one can clearly see bits of flesh and fur that were torn from Sciltch's arm.
Krystal's eyes are momentarily fixed on the demon, to make sure it stays down. When it does, her gaze breaks in favor of Sciltch who is down on one knee. He's groaning and covering up his wound as best as he can. Not much blood is gushing out but it's mostly to cover it and protect the open wound against anything that might come in it and cause a lot of pain.
"A-are you okay?" asks Krystal worried as she lowers her gun and crouches down to Sciltch's level. "What happened?" is her logical follow-up question.
Was it not that she just witnessed what had happened to him. But a mind like hers in a place like, after all she has been through, isn't something to be expected as sane.
Sciltch however doesn't know that. He looks up at her with a raised eyebrow and an expression that mimics the words he says to her. "You're joking right? You just saw what happened!" he tells her nettled as he stands up and tries to shrug of the pain.
"Would the lady like a magnifying glass to closely examine the wound so she might find out it is indeed a bite?"
"I was only asking how you were doing. You don't have to fall out at me like that."
Sciltch rolls his eyes uninterested before he notices his handgun being loosely held by Krystal. He swipes it very quickly from her hands and aims for her head. Krystal freezes instantly, looking terrified at him. However, the left arm of the grey wolf is hurting quite bad, making his aim shaky. And the expression Krystal is giving doesn't help in steadying it; she's no threat. She helped him to get rid of a gnawing monster.
"Humph." He lowers the gun. "Why did you help me?"
His question comes out of the blue but it's the words in the sentence which confuse her. This is Sciltch! He knew Krystal ever since she took him into the castle and was raised to be her servant. He was closer to her than with any other person. And how he asked why she helped him? With no hint of clever sarcasm or biting cynicism however, she answers his question. Maybe he underwent the same as her and this caused him to lose all grip on reality.
"Because I saw you were in need of help. And you are the only person around here that seems reasonable. And alive."
Sciltch fusses. "Define alive. I've been in his hellhole for so long… I don't even know if I'm supposed to be living or dead."
"Fourteen years…" she mutters to herself, but Sciltch hears about this.
"What did you say? How do you know that exact number?" Krystal backs off a little bit as she hears Sciltch's aggravated tone. "It has been fourteen years since my home planet blew up. You can't possibly know about that!"
"I can't know about that? I do not know how much your brain has been scrambled, but if I remember it correctly, I was there when the planet blew up." responds Krystal annoyed. "I was the Princess of Cerinia."
Sciltch chuckles haughty. "I had no idea I had a sister. It seems I need to ask father a little bit more about his "endeavors" into the city. Hah! Dressing up as a peasant to be amongst the population to find out if they liked his policy. More like getting some poon."
"A sister? Father?" Krystal repeats with at confused tone. This doesn't make any sense! Everything he said matches with my father did! Except of course that part in which he dares to imply that my father was cheating. Does he honestly think that he's the son of royal blood? His brain must be more scrambled than I thought.
"Nevermind." He turns his back on a now even more confused Krystal. Sciltch would never turn his back on her like that. "I have no time for petty talk. I need to find a way out for me and my father."
"Hold it right there!" shouts Krystal just as haughty as Sciltch just chuckled. "Don't think you'll be leaving me alone here! I don't think this is how you are supposed to be behaving Sciltch. You are supposed to serve me, Princess Krystal! You are not making up some distorted version of our past. In which I do not exist apparently."
A lingering silence follows. Both don't move a single muscle. Both are sunken in their own thoughts. Krystal is anticipating how he will react to her small tirade. Her mind-reading isn't as vivid as it once was but doesn't hurt to give it a try. She focuses very hard but something is blocking her way; she can't get to the interesting parts.
Sciltch isn't at all bothered by her attempts to crawl into his grey mass. He on the other hand brings his paw closer to his face and begins to rub his chin. This comforts him while he tries to figure out who this "Princess Krystal" really is. Could she be a servant who he lost track off or whom he fired after spilling his tea? Only then would she know about the bloodline. Or… is there something more to this. There is a waft of something unnatural about her. As if she is not a normal person like he is.
"The greatest evil disguised in the blinding innocence and the deceiving beauty of a woman." he mutters to himself, inaudible for Krystal. His father's words. Coming from a face that is completely hidden within blackness. Aside from his eyes. Two bright red dots that have no pupils or surrounding eye sockets but somehow give you the feeling that he's looking straight at you. "She will claim to know you and indeed knows very fundamental things about you. To the point of knowing various specifics you thought you had held a secret." were the words at followed.
"Did you say something?" he hears Krystal ask from much closer than she was before. She must have heard he was muttering.
"How do you know my name?" asks Sciltch cold and direct, while not giving her a single look at his face.
Krystal doesn't take this question very seriously, very audible by the tone of her answer. "Because I am a Princess you numbskull."
She chortles snobbishly, unable to believe how Sciltch could possibly come up such a ridiculous idea that he is of royal blood. He's a peasant and he damn well knows that!
"And you are my servant. You still are! Ever since I took you in! I do not know what happened to you but your brain does seem to resemble a broken plate with scrambled eggs on it."
"My mind is fine, thank you."
Krystal groans at Sciltch's stubbornness but realizes this is all she's gonna get out of him if she continues her uncaring and frankly atrocious attempt at acting like she used to. She's grown past that in the years following Cerinia's demise and her stay with the Star Fox team. She had to follow commands for once but since she was treated like an equal, she actually followed those instead of disinterestedly rolling her eyes around, mocking whoever gave her that order as she turned her back on him.
It seems she has no other choice; in order to get Sciltch by her side and as her partner for the duration of her stay here, she needs to play along. The idea of having a partner to share the phi of being here is more satisfying than trying to make him realize his delusion and came back to planet sensible. She ultimately sighs and calls Sciltch again, who has walked a few meters away from her.
"Sciltch… wait up. I'm sorry about the things I said to you. I mean… we are both in this mess. You for longer than I have been but you get the point."
"You are saying?"
"I'm saying that it might be better if we cooperate instead of fall out against each other. You were looking for a way out of this place, right?"
Sciltch nods. "I need to find it for my father. Only then can I see him again and together we can leave this accursed place." A little bit of curiosity arises. "Are you asking me this because you have an idea where that the exit is?"
Krystal fusses. "Tsk! If I knew that I wouldn't have come across you. But I do know someone who knows that way out of this place."
Sciltch detects a hint of hardship in her voice when she mentions that certain someone. As if getting that person would require some trouble to get to.
"And this person is where?"
"Well…" says Krystal soft and awkwardly. "If I knew that too…"
"… You wouldn't have come across me, I get it. But that doesn't get us anywhere."
Interesting. concludes Krystal from that sentence.
The usage of "us" indicates that he has accepted the idea of being a team and to get through together. Even if it is just for a very short time and it being an unholy alliance between her and her messed up former servant, it does seem that he agrees that it's a much better option than to leg it all alone.
It puts Krystal in a different mood. A more optimistic one. So much so that Sciltch can read that from the unhidden expression on her face.
"Receiving some kind of message from the spirits?" he jokes with the needed biting sarcasm. "Aside from that, tell me more about that person of yours. For example, how he or she can come here and show me the way out."
Of course this bad-tempered prick has to kill my mood. she thinks sighing with a grudge building. Storing it away however is necessary if she wants Sciltch's cooperation. So she puts a feigned good-mood face and explains to Sciltch in the nicest way she can utter, that getting Fox over here is going to be a pickle since he's locked up somewhere and she has been trying to find him ever since the Slough of Despair.
"Hmmm… so your person is locked up somewhere? Like in a cell or in a dungeon?"
"Possibly. All I know is that he's held against his will and he's unable to get out."
Sciltch remembers something that may help her. "I came across a door maybe an hour ago or so. It was unusual as I never saw this sort of door before. At least not in this place. It was a very thick-looking metal door. It had a small window with three bars in it. I could hear complaining coming from behind it but didn't look into it any further. Moaning, crying and complaining are your daily grind here."
Krystal's eyes widen as her face lights up. "Y-you did? You found a door like that?"
"Given your reaction I suggest that your special person is behind such a door?"
"I-it must be!" utters Krystal in mixture of insecurity and panic. She guesses this is where Fox must be. Where else would he be locked up? He can't be locked up anywhere else, which would be irrational. "He said that he didn't know where he was but he was definitely locked up."
Sciltch doubts her words but sees that this is the closest he has ever come to finding the way out. If it takes one person to get him and his father out, he will take it. No one knows how much time will pass before someone else comes along and tells him this. And his father will not be pleased if he turns down this chance.
Against his will, he says: "Okay. I will lead you to the door. But how do I know you won't turn on me? Nor that you will plague me with that "you are my servant" nonsense."
"Uhm… you got the gun, don't you?"
Sciltch nods and then gestures to come with him. He turns around and after a brief glance over his right shoulder, he sees Krystal follow him. She has distanced herself from him by a few meters. If she would choose to suddenly attack him, he has plenty of time to turn around to fire some much needed lead right between her eyes. However, he has a feeling he won't attack him. It's an iffy feeling at the same time; he suspects her of having a double agenda. Given her sudden change from saying he's nothing but a servant, while he is in fact of royal descent, to dropping it entirely.
And he couldn't be more right. Krystal is only swallowing her pride until she has been reunited with Fox and she can say farewell to this mess. Finally she would return to Papetoon, the bed she fell asleep in. She would wake up next to Fox, escape the planet as Fox might be held responsible for murdering the rest of the Star Fox crew on the Great Fox II, change their names and identities as a whole and live happily ever after. Lylat may crumble before her eyes, she wouldn't care. Fox will be with her and that is all that counts.
For a dozen minutes neither says a single word. The only sounds that come from the two are their footsteps with an occasional sound that is completely out of place; it is Krystal chattering her teeth. She has never felt a more awful and more trussing up cold in her life. Adding a dose of panic and paranoia to the mix and she's legitimately surprised she can still stand up and walk without falling to her knees, rolling up into a little ball and mutter to herself until all the bad stuff stops happening.
Sciltch hears her out of place chattering of her teeth. "You don't look so good… Krystal was it?"
"I-it's nothing… leave it."
With a shrug, Sciltch turns around and focuses on the way ahead. The increasingly murky-getting and fogged up road ahead. He has doesn't know exactly where the door is but he knows he's been walking in a straight line ever since he saw the door. So walking in the exact same direction and not deviating from that direction should get him to his target.
As the two walk on, the tension between the two is growing. The fog has turned into a faint brownish orange, which reminds one of a sandstorm. The ground underneath their feet doesn't feel the same to Sciltch as it did before. Doubt strikes him and he wonders if he's still going the right way. If he didn't change direction anywhere, took a wrong path some time ago. This applies to having Krystal along with him. His father's words, coming from the ghastly darkness behind those intimidating red dots for eyes, sound yet so honest and truthful. They echo through his mind each time he thinks about anything which can be connected to the blue vixen he has following behind her. Furthermore, the wound on his arm is still aching badly and it doesn't help him keep a clean head.
On Krystal's part, there is the growing coldness inside her. It starts to sting and rubbing her paws over her arms doesn't help anymore. Not that it helped much before but the effort was always there. She starts to look around, hoping to find the door she mind find Fox behind. But all she sees is that sandy fog and nothing else.
In a desperate attempt not to faint after a very painful sting, like a sharp needle being pricked into her arm, she swallows the pain and decides that questioning Sciltch would help her be at ease. It seems to bother him and it gives her a naughty sensation by triggering that. Like getting nicking a cookie from the cookie jar.
"S-sciltch? Can I ask you something?" she asks with a weakened tone to her voice, mostly to dupe Sciltch into replying. And he falls for it.
"I thought you wouldn't ask me anything?" grumbles the canine quite reticent, clenching the gun in his hand and putting his index finger on the trigger guard.
As if she didn't hear that, she asks her question anyway. "How does your father look like?"
"My father? Why are you interested in my father?"
"Well… when you brought him up, you talked about him with to upmost respect so I reckon he must have been important to you. And since we both have our own versions of a father, I was just curious."
"Hm… I do not remember how he looked like. All I know is how he looks now. And it is not pretty. Therefore I prefer not to talk about his state of being."
Sciltch falls right into the seemingly innocent questioning. Opening up to her leaves his mind vulnerable to be read by any telepath. And Krystal has no second thoughts about rummaging through Sciltch's memories. It feels wrong to toy with her former servant like this, but it's the only way to find out what had made scrambled eggs of his brain in the first place. On the other hand, it's a welcome distraction and slightly sadistic as well, which she always had tendencies to as a young Princess. It feels like slipping back into an old, comfortable sweater, no matter how awful that seems now.
As she churns within her former servant's mind, she continues her questioning timidly to keep up the illusion that she's not doing anything out of the ordinary. "Oh… okay then. Do you want to hear how my father looked like? In case that might ring some bells in your massively skull-fucked mind?" she asks again oh so timid while thinking nasty about him.
"I have no need for your petty talk Krystal. I could feel you rummaging through my memories so I know your business." chuckles Sciltch darkly out of the blue. "Besides, that is quite profane language for a supposed lady of aristocracy. I suggest calming yourself before I silence you forever." as he puts his index finger, visible for Krystal, on the trigger of his pistol followed by that same dark chuckle.
Krystal had no idea Sciltch was able to notice her presence inside of his mind. He has never been telepathic! And even though a normal person without any psychic capabilities can feel someone searching in their heads, it's rarely noticed and usually shrugged off as a minor headache.
Sciltch then forces her out of his mind as he continues to walk on. Krystal recoils because of this and reacts like she received a fierce blow to the stomach. She coughs heavily for a few moments, bends over and squatted as thick spit droops over her lips and softly makes contact with the dusty earth below. She pauses for a moment, dropping to knees with her paws holding her upper body from the ground. Icy shivers run across her back and sides, starting near the knees and ending at the fingertips. It impedes the strength in her arms as she feels another coughing fit coming up. She pleas internally and takes long breaths to postpone the fit coming but there is no escaping from it.
The coughing is more intense than anything she has ever experienced in her life. Each one feels like her lungs and esophagus are set on fire and severe burn marks à la Scorched Earth are left behind. For at least two to three minutes, this painful scene continues to take place. Spit and even traces of puke are being spat out by the now gagging vixen.
The worst however comes when that cold, which was growing inside her like an ever expanding cancer, begins to rear its ugly head and decides to plague the blue vixen again. Her arms start to tremble and the ice begins to take a physical form. It begins to wear on her as if forms tiny icicles on ripped parts of her cat suit. When it touches her skin, it feels like salt and ice touch her at the same time; it burns.
And that one pain stimulus is enough to down Krystal. In one loud uttering of the word "Ack!" she collapses through her arms and lands face first into the earth, that looked soft because of the dust that covered it, but is in fact as hard as concrete.
Her vision fades to black. She doesn't feel the pain at all, only that what is growing inside her. With closed eyes and the will to do nothing more than pass out, she is back where she started; hopelessly, slowly going back into that cringed fetal position on the ground.
This pain is impossible to contain… it feels like thousands of needles are being stabbed in my head, arms and body. This cold is getting too much… it's driving me insane. My vision is getting blurry and I can feel my eyelashes crystalize with icicles.
"It seems that you are not doing so well." she suddenly hears amidst her self-pity. Her eyes open carefully, her eyelids feeling heavy as she does so. Slowly but surely, her vision returns to normal and she sees that it is Sciltch who stands there, slightly bend over and he has his arm out, offering her a helping hand. "Do you need any assistance? After all, we are in this together."
Krystal can't believe what she's hearing. We are in this together!? Is he mocking me right now? He just walked away without me, leaving me to perish here while I was coughing up all of my internal organs! But I suppose that he isn't stupid; without me, he cannot identify Fox. So he needs me.
"N-no need… thank you. I can handle my own." she says admirably persistent, yet audibly weakened voice as she tries to get up on her own but absent strength.
"You seem to be shillyshallying with your statement. Are you certain?"
"Yes!" shouts Krystal, completely fed up with everything. "And you can stop with the noble speech you got going on because I'm not falling for your rubbish any longer!"
Sciltch doesn't have the patience to listen to her fit of anger, coming forth from the panic and self-doubt that has been brewing within her. He rolls his eyes, sighs deep and turns away from Krystal, resuming trying to find the place with the jail door. It's his only clue the now mad vixen has given him but he figures that's enough. In fact, he doesn't even need her now that he thinks about it. The simple gesture of pointing the end of his gun barrel against the temple of this person should be persuading enough to help him get out of this nightmare and take his father with him.
However, Krystal isn't giving up on her justified fit of rage. Justified in her and her own eyes alone. And she takes the sigh as a sign of acknowledgement; that Sciltch knows he's wrong but doesn't want to admit it.
"You heard me right! I will no longer play along and…" She then notices that Sciltch has been walking away, not caring one bit about Krystal has been saying. He's standing still for now, looking up at something in the distance. "Say are you even listening to me!?"
"You can close your flapping mouth now; we are here."
Something positive seems to come her way. She has to see this for herself of course. Remarkably, she gets up without any trouble. Perhaps it is the ecstasy of her anger fit that is suppressing the pain. Much like a football player after making an elaborate dive towards the ground and pretending to be in pain. But since someone is there to give her a yellow card, she gets away with it.
A small jog later and she's standing next to Sciltch, who looks with a fair amount of awe at an enormous structure. The remnants of the yellow murk are covering a dark gray stone mountain. It has jagged sharp rocky edges that would cut into the hands of all those who grip them. Within the mountain, there is a cave. An eternal dark abyss of a cave, opened into the side of the mountain as if it was screaming in anguish...or laughing at the anguish of others. Beneath that sits another cave. Torches on the walls inside highlight a path; a way into the structure. A wooden sign is hanging loosely above the entrance of the opening, held there by only one nail. Neither can read what it says, but it gives an ominous feeling of unwanted confinement and misery.
The two walk towards the lower entrance this impressive and terrifying. But both aren't that frightened at all. Sciltch is simply admiring the scenery, being in awe in a very positive way. Like seeing a rocket launch up into space at a very young age from up close. Krystal on the other hand is far less interested in the structure and wouldn't even spit in its general direction.
"How quaint; a giant rock with a large hole in it resembling a gaping mouth." she fussed with crossed arms and a very unimpressed facial expression.
"You've seen this before?" asks Sciltch as they walk into the well-lit entrance. It makes his voice sound more echoic which makes it more of a chore to listen to.
"No, but I can imagine that it was only a matter of time before I ran into something that is supposed to make me cringe."
"You are too hardened now?" he says with his tongue-in-cheek.
With a stern face, hiding the fact that the last bit of ecstasy is gone, she confirms Sciltch's sarcastic remark holding herself strong. The headache… the aching… I must make it stop. This will break me… okay Krystal. Ease it up. Don't let him notice that you are getting worse. Fox is this close to you. Homestretch is all that's left.
She swallows hard, giving Sciltch the impression she might hide fear instead of pain. A smart move that she did not intend to make, but it ended up positive anyway. "I've seen some things, yes. But that's something for another time. Since we are clearly not going to friends or even acquaintances, we better open up this door."
In her best attempts to contain the pain and keep up the mask, she has forgotten to be happy that she actually found the door they were looking for. They are standing in a perfectly round room with only one exit; the way they came from. Right in front of her is a black door that looks thick and sturdy. For the rest, there is nothing to note expect that the walls have a faint golden-yellow color while the ground beneath them is fire red in color. But that's a detail.
It takes a few seconds for her to put aside all the negatives but then her eyes spread wide open when they glance upon that door. She was right! There is a cell! And Fox must be behind this! Before the tear ducts truly start to spray tears down her cheeks, she has to know for sure.
She surges forward but Sciltch stops her by grabbing her shoulder. "Shouldn't you check if your person is in there or not?"
Fierce, she undoes herself from Sciltch's hand and turns to towards him. He can see it in her eyes and the overall expression on Krystal's face; he's going to regret touching and stopping her. He knows exactly what is going to come; a fit of rage she has been withholding for some time now. Not that he will be intimated, but it's nearly impossible reasoning with a woman scorned. It's best to let the storm rage and wait until she subsides.
"This person has a name, okay?" shouts Krystal, pointing her index finger dangerously close to Sciltch's right eye. "His name is Fox McCloud and he's my mate. And I know for a fact that he's behind this door because there is nowhere else he can be!"
That last part came out of nowhere and is such a thick lie; even buzz saw couldn't cut through it. Krystal is so sure of herself that she twists the truth and holds up an illusion for herself. Fox could be anywhere. Every big rock turned over might reveal a dungeon or dark hole wherefrom there is no escape. In prison seems the most rational and logical thing. But what she has witnessed in her time here is nothing ordinary.
Sciltch fusses, reading Krystal's into doubt descending face. He has no interest in the blue vixen anymore. She has leaded him to where he needed to be and that be all. Instead, he's now figuring out how to get rid of her.
"It is your call. You believe that it he's behind that door? Then the honor is all yours."
He takes a step back and watches Krystal turn around. She takes a deep breath, trying to keep the tears in that despite her best efforts manage to be a pain when they do escape nonetheless. Slightly cringed, she approaches the door. Her tail isn't between her legs so she fortunately doesn't look like a beaten dog.
Maybe a million, if not a billon thoughts and doom scenarios race through her mind as the distance between her and the prison door becomes smaller and smaller. There is no return now. That is the feeling she's having, like someone is aiming a gun at the back of her head. And given Sciltch's questionable mental condition along with an actual gun in his hand...
She refuses to think that way. Sciltch might be behaving like a complete fool but that is not to say that Krystal hasn't stopped caring for him. She wants nothing but the best for her former servant; to remember what is correct and true according to her memories.
All I want is for everything to return to the way it was. Cerinia destroyed. My memories of that place safely locked up. Star Fox returning to its original glory with everyone still alive. Star Wolf as our rivals. Everything to be as it was.
Krystal was on the verge of finding out if this could be possible. She has reached the prison door. It's about two meters high and wide enough for an obese person to fit through. The door looks ancient but isn't devastated by the hand of time. It has survived such an intense heat and judging from scratches on the mucky black it has sustained itself during multiple attacks.
Just above her eyelevel, sits the rectangular small window with three bars that Dagon was talking about. She has to stand on her toes but that is nothing too complained. Being only able to just look over the edge, she pears through the barred window. What she sees can only be explained as the insides of a pink worm with red atmospheric lightning effects coming from somewhere down below, at the bottom of a barely steep staircase with a small digression to the right. That is all she can see.
Her sight may be lacking, but her hearing is fine. And her ears pick various sounds coming from the parts she can't see. Again, much like Sciltch said; moaning and complaining. But there is a sound that stands out. It's a weak grumbling noise, a growl more or less.
Krystal's ears jerk up as she recognizes that growl. Out of a thousand growls she could pick this one. Very vividly she could hear the leader of Star Fox utter those when things weren't going his way. When he missed a shot or it looked like he was losing the fight. But also in more pleasing moments, much like having some fun beneath the covers of a shared bed. His growling in her ear was often enough to make her melt in his arms.
"F-Fox…? A-are you behind this door? Please tell me you are…"
Silence follows after her rather soft calling. She couldn't utter it any louder. Nervousness has its disadvantages and it got to Krystal for sure. Her will to have everything back as it was is farfetched. Fox can hold a grudge. And there is no question he will start about the whole telephone sex thing she so carelessly held with Panther as soon as they are back in Lylat. Maybe not directly but soon enough.
Then, the grumbling returns along with the moaning, thus busting the possibility of it being Fox. So much for recalling bedroom memories. Krystal sighs deep. She knew somewhere deep in her heart that this would fail. Why did she press on when every fiber in her body told her not to?
The feeling of someone putting a gun to the back of her head is getting stronger. Her ears droop down as her breathing falters. In contrast to previous situations though, Krystal has no change to completely cringe as another flame of hope is so ruthlessly extinguished before her eyes; a bonfire has been lit right beside her.
Fox's voice, very far away and very weak is heard. Very long moments of silence characterize his frailty. With a stutter, the voice pronounces her name. Krystal. This followed by the question "is that you...?"
"Fox?" She looks up towards the window before she screams his name again. "Fox! It's me… Krystal! I'm here to save you! Don't worry… I'll have you out of here in no-time!"
Krystal grabs the handle on the door and begins to tug on it. She uses very bit of her strength but it is to no extent; the door is locked. Stubborn however, she keeps trying until her fingers lose grip. This happening in the middle of a tug, she loses balance and falls flat on her behind. Full on the buns luckily, otherwise she would have been temporarily blinded which would make this somewhat hopeful situation dire again. Another positive she finds, it something that must resemble the lock holding this door shut. Nothing else stands out quite like this round protrusion which has the shape of a belt buckle.
What is this? I've never seen this sort of lock before... On closer inspection, Krystal finds a cavity inside the round. There is a shape here. And it looks like a heart? Does that mean…?
Krrrrrk!
The unmistakable sound of a gun's hammer being cocked is very close to her. Right behind her as a matter of fact.
"It seems that our ways separate earlier than you might have wanted to Krystal." she hears Sciltch say. "I will make sure that your mate gets your regards. After all, it was your heart that released him."
Krystal has no idea what Sciltch is trying to say. But as the gun barrel is pressed against the back of her head, she understands that the heart shape didn't resemble a stereotypical heart, but rather that of a living, feeling being. Sciltch intends to end her and use her heart to gain access to Fox.
No chance is available for Krystal to retaliate as she races through all the possibilities. She could stand up and surprise Sciltch. But then she would be shot in the back. Rolling away in another option but that would only mean a simple turn to his left and right, a clear aim and a pull of the trigger. And the latter is the last sound she hears along with the discharging of the gun barrel.
I hope you enjoyed reading it! Leave your honest review where it belongs and if you spot any errors when it comes to spelling and/or grammar, please PM me about it instead of counting that into the review. Thank you in advance!
-Phantom R.D.S. Foxx