Hour Of Darkness
Chapter Eighteen, You Really Got A Hold On Me
"Ok, Richard, try it again."
"No."
"Richard…" Karine warned. Karine had restored them, allowing them to use their own bodies as they wished. She still inhabited the tiniest corners of their minds, but she let them speak, move and think for themselves. Karine was, however, ready to jump in at any time to return them to her puppets should they disobey. Ringo knew this all too well.
Sighing, Ringo lifted his hands, holding them straight out. Closing his eyes, he twitched his fingers gently, the small flames gently licking at his hands. Slowly but surely, his hands caught fire, burning fiercely. It didn't harm him, but could clearly do substantial damage to any who dared to cross him. With a quick snap of his wrists, Ringo shot the flames into the side wall of the castle, leaving a deep black scar on the inside of the courtyard. Karine smiled.
"Perfect. Take a break, Richard. Paul!" She called in a sickly sweet voice. Paul was immediately at her side, though not of his own choosing, as Ringo left the courtyard, muttering angrily to himself.
"Yes, Karine?"
"It is time for your training, Paul." Paul started to object, but Karine wasn't listening. She removed a silver ring from her slender finger, clasping her hands together. Muttering a few words, she gave it a gentle toss. Instantly, a black mist formed underneath the hovering ring, slowly taking shape and hardening into a tangible beast.
A huge Siberian white tiger pawed the ground with one large paw, growling menacingly, appearing right in front of Paul, its nose inches from his stomach. Paul backpedaled in astonishment and surprise, practically falling over backwards. "Holy shit!"
Karine smiled, looking at the tiger proudly. Soundlessly, she pointed one long finger at Paul. The tiger turned to Paul, growling. Paul took a few steps back. "Oooho, no. I am not fighting that thing!" He exclaimed, continuing backwards as the beast advanced. He looked around frantically for an escape route. Seeing a large rock, he leapt, transforming mid-air. Karine gasped in astonishment.
"Instinctive transformation! Excellent!" She breathed. The tiger leapt, joining Paul on the high rock. Paul fell off the other side in surprise, falling on his back in a dusty cloud.
Karine, call it off! I can't fight it! It's twice as big as me! And indeed it was. It stood at least four feet tall, probably reaching to seven if it stood up on hind legs, Paul estimated fearfully. He twisted to his feet, then ran to the other corner of the courtyard, tail between his legs. The tiger eagerly followed, leaping to Paul with huge bounds of its large paws. It bared its teeth, its face in Paul's. Paul pinned his ears back in fright, then swiped it gingerly across its maw, growling meekly. The tiger jumped, clearly astonished. Paul would have laughed if he weren't in this position. Before the tiger could recover, Paul leapt away, racing back to the opposite corner. Karine, are you trying to get me killed??
Karine shook her head in disappointment. "Paul, you're not even trying."
Bloody right I'm not! He exclaimed, backing into the corner as the tiger advanced. I value my life!
The tiger attacked, its huge mouth grabbing the loose skin of Paul's neck. He howled in pain, swiping viciously at the Siberian tiger's hindquarters. The tiger roared deafeningly, not expecting Paul to fight back. In doing so, it unknowingly released its prey, and Paul jumped on its back, sinking his claws into the flesh to keep himself up. He bit mercilessly at the tiger's neck, digging his teeth into the soft flesh, instinct completely taking over. It was at the point that Paul wasn't even thinking about what he was doing; he just did it.
The tiger struggled to get Paul off its back, howling in pain as its white fur was stained crimson where Paul had clamped his teeth. It rolled over, forcing Paul to jump off or be crushed. Paul leapt to the top of the nearest rock, taunting the tiger with vicious growls. The tiger leapt up, swatting at Paul with a massive paw. Paul yelped, thrown off the rock with such force that he flew clear across the courtyard. Landing in the gravel, Paul quickly jumped to his feet, unfazed. He shot back at the tiger, spitting and swiping like an angry tomcat. Catching the tiger off guard, he slashed fiercely at the tiger's eyes, scratching it across the eyelids. Screaming in pain, the tiger retreated, pawing at its injured eye which was bleeding profusely. Paul continued his assault, attacking from every angle at once, the tiger unable to compensate Paul's speed. Battered and bleeding, the tiger cowered in the corner, trying desperately to shield itself.
"Paul!" Karine cried. "That's enough!"
But Paul didn't hear her, completely wrapped up in his fury, everything blood red in his eyes. Suddenly, he flew back, hitting the wall of the courtyard. Try as he might, he couldn't break free. Paul transformed, back flat against the wall. Karine held her hand straight out, flattening Paul to the wall with her mind powers.
"I said…that's enough." Paul nodded meekly, and she released him. Walking with long strides to the tiger, she pulled the ring from its bloodied forehead, and it disappeared in a puff of black smoke. She slipped the ring back on her finger, not taking her eyes off Paul.
"Paul, that was most impressive."
"Thanks," He spat back sarcastically, fists clenched at his sides. Karine sighed.
"You may go." Paul left the courtyard, following Ringo, muttering curses under his breath. Karine looked to the skies.
George. Come to me, George.
A large shadow fell over the ground, eclipsing the sun. Karine squinted at the dark shape, watching as it took the form of George plummeting to the earth. Pulling out at the last second, he landed softly on his bare feet.
"You called, your Majesty?" George asked, his voice cold and stony. Karine had not released George from her clutches at all; she was afraid that George might be able to escape by swiftly flying far beyond her reach, and she couldn't take that chance. She stepped up to him, staring into his glazed eyes. Tracing her fingers along his collarbone, Karine walked around him slowly, caressing his wings with her long fingers. George didn't even blink.
Suddenly, Karine recieved a massive mental jolt. George had lunged from the inside, fighting the swirling black mists with all his strength. Taken aback, Karine gasped, hand to her throat. George lashed out again, taking advantage of her weakened state, fighting with renewed strength. Karine fell to her knees, unable to take the strain. George was in control.
George's body lurched, now in the possession of a new mind. He leapt, beating his wings resolutely. Suddenly, Karine reached out with one shaking hand, sending him crashing back to earth. George gasped, all wind knocked out of his lungs. He struggled vainly as Karine forced herself back into his mind, the small cracks in his defenses widening with each determined push of her powers. Once again, George was reduced to a puppet, his eyes glassy as the amber on his throat, his mind engulfed in the black fog once again. Karine stood, gasping for breath, looking slightly haggard. She gazed into George's eyes angrily.
Not the best idea, George.
****
Ringo sat alone, perched precariously on the high rock, chin resting on his closed fist. Karine's thoughts and emotions stained the edges of his consciousness with a dark cloud, the effects of her feelings affecting him directly. But he didn't care.
He didn't care about anything anymore. Ringo's misery was as dark as, if not darker than, the clouds that obstructed the highest spinarettes of the mammoth castle, masking the night sky. A cold breeze tickled the back of his neck, sending a shiver up his spine. Ringo folded his arms over his chest, trying to conserve some heat.
Richard, come inside. It is warm, and you must rest.
Leave me be, Karine. You've dominated my whole day; must you take over my night? A hint of amusement came to him over their telepathic connection, however much he tried to shut her out. Ringo sighed warily, trying to block the unclean, distant thoughts from his mind, but with no success. Karine stuck to him like a bad habit.
Ringo stood up slowly, wandering farther from the castle. He stood at the edge of the cliff, gazing into the unseen depths with tired eyes. A stiff wind blew up from the chasm, his long hair whipping around his face and neck. Ringo contemplated the yawning gap, the dark rock worn smooth by the decades of pouring rain and thunderstorms. The massive mountains and steep cliffs gave clear evidence of a fuming earth, long ago plagued with volcanic eruptions and acid rains. Strange canals were etched in the dark surface, like that of cryptic carvings of an ancient tribe, but still giving evidence only of the burning rains. Now the only rains that fell were cold, yet crystal-clear and pure, the only innocent feature of this harsh landscape.
The breeze blew at Ringo's back, gently nudging him to the edge of the cliff. Again he peered into the depths, his blue eyes tearing in the wind. The wind persisted, as if encouraging him to escape, end the suffering by flinging himself into the yawning maw of the chasm. The bottom of the pit wasn't even visible, cloaked in the darkness of the unending night. It was undoubtedly quite deep, of at least that Ringo was sure. He didn't know what the bottom held, but he didn't seem to care. It almost frightened him how much he didn't care.
Breathing deeply, Ringo stepped back from the mouth of the pit, lingering for a moment to peer at it over his shoulder. The chasm seemed to sigh, the wind whistling through the tiny etchings, giving it life, emotions. It breathed like a living being, beckoning for Ringo to return, to stay forever and a day.
But Ringo had obligations.
Reluctantly, he turned his back on the yawning gap, stuffing his freezing hands into his pockets. Walking away slowly, he kept peeking back, as if afraid it might expand, swallowing him in the intangible darkness. With a snap of his fingers, Ringo vanished into thin air.
****
Mystique worked non-stop, using all her bodily power to restore some semblance of life to John's still form. She was weakening quickly, but there was still much to do. Oh, God, I don't think I'm gonna make it…stay with me, John…
Mystique had managed to mend all of his internal organs, excepting his appendix, which she removed for the simple reason he didn't really need it, anyway.
A bubble made of a clear, iridescent film encircled the bed, patient, and makeshift doctor, ensuring that no dirt of grime could enter John's body in his incredibly vulnerable state. Mystique carefully began to stick John's torso together, unable to use magic to do so. With skilled fingers, she quickly mended his would with sparkling stitches that quickly filled in the gaps between the skin, leaving a gentle criss-crossing of golden threads across his chest. It looked a bit like a zig zagged tattoo across his chest. Mystique sat down, weary, producing a bowl of crystal water to wash her hands and the bloodied area around the now-sealed wound.
When she had finished, she disenchanted the bowl, standing over John's body wearily. Now she had to mend his mind.
Gently placing her hands on his temples, she closed her eyes.
****
The shimmering light engulfed John's body, a warmth like no other seeping into his tired form. He embraced it, his spirit freed from his body.
John.
A soft voice called to him, clearly feminine, that of a young girl, but like none he had ever heard before. He squinted into the light, trying to make out a shape or form.
Yes? He called back tentatively, outstretching his hand in an attempt to block some of the light from his eyes. To his shock, he could see right through his hand, like an x-ray, but no bones were visible. John stared at it for a moment, mystified. The unseen girl laughed, her voice like tinkling bells.
John, why do you wait? She asked gently. John could feel the touch of a warm hand on his arm.
Come with me, John. A better place awaits. John listened in awe, her voice soothing and calm.
Is this Heaven? The girl laughed sweetly again, and John smiled like a little child, feeling strangely at peace, but still not understanding.
John. Her voice had changed. Confused, John looked to his left and right, trying to pinpoint this unwelcome visitor.
John, come back, John. It's not time yet.
I don't want to come back! He cried, feeling frightened. A cold hand grasped at his foot. He fought it, crying out in surprise. Leave me alone! Let me be! I want to stay here!
The cold hand only tightened, pulling him away. The shimmering white faded, growing duller and duller until it became a stone gray.
John found himself staring at the ceiling of the cell he had spent so many days in before. He sat bolt-upright, yelling like a man possessed. Mystique jumped, spilling the bowl of water she had been using to sponge John's face.
Holy shit! I'm dead! Where the hell am I? What's going on??
John, relax! Mystique soothed, using a small spell to remove the spilled water. She summoned another bowl, urging John to lie down. You must rest, John. You are still weak. He lay down warily, but allowed her to continue.
Karine would have you thrown in the moat, but I knew better and I brought you here. Here, I used every spell I could to bring you back to life. So here you are. Mystique gently dabbed at John's feverish forehead, the cool water trickling down his face. He sat up abruptly again, leaping off the table.
What about Paul and George? And… John remembered Ringo. Ringo killed me.
Correction. Mystique said, holding up one long finger. Karine killed you. Ringo had no control over his actions. Even you know that. He wouldn't do that to you.
John nodded slowly, trying to absorb all this. What happens now?
Mystique shrugged, dabbing at his forehead with the soft cloth. I can't hide you from Karine forever. She will eventually realize that you survived, and then…
Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud clang. Karine stood, enraged and seething with anger. Her eyes burned like fire, fists clenched at her sides, trembling, her knuckles white.
Uh…hi, Karine… John stuttered, smiling sheepishly.
On to Chapter Nineteen!
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