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gjnhjfdhns: Part FORTY-NINE: Rainy Day


How many stairs could one place /have/?

We trudged up the never-ending inclination in a thick silence, all wary of each other. It seemed ridiculous that, in a place like this, we could have the time or the energy to fear our only comrades- but, here’s the kicker: we /did/.

And it was sick and wrong but there was nothing we could do about it. This place, this world brought out the worst in all of us, and we had just witnessed a fine example of just what that was.

I felt like puking. I felt like just letting myself fall down all those stairs.

I felt like charging up every single step and beating the shit out of the man who forced us into this.

I felt like-

A loud crash from behind made me miss a stair and I just barely avoided tumbling down the rest. Someone screamed; why is it that I can’t tell who?

“What was /that/?” Christina asked, almost meekly, as though we strangers would have a greater idea than she. Brian, at the closest to the noise, leaned over the railing and peered down at the flights we passed.

“Oh, shit.”

“What is it?” Angel leaned over next to him; she gasped and Christina followed suit. I peered over their shoulders and seriously wondered if God existed or was some sort of sadist.

“Oh, /shit/.”

Floors and floors down (/how many/ floors, I can’t believe we’ve climbed that far and farther, I can’t believe we have farther yet /to go/) was a darkness somehow thicker than the physical abominations we had already experienced, a darkness tangible in a way that made my stomach not only drop, but feel as though it was being filled with the pitch-black air.

I wanted to rip it out. I wanted to block off any way that darkness had of invading my body, even if it meant my death. I wanted nothing to do with that- that sense of terror in its purest form- potent and crawling and just. Too. Much.

I needed to look away, so I did. I summoned up all the courage I had left (all the courage that hadn’t been stretched thin and snapped thus far) and tore my gaze away from the horror racing up toward us. The others stood stock still; I looked at Mitchell, who was already continuing up.

“Guys. /Guys/. We have to go.”

Like victims of a coma awakening from months of lethargy, they one-by-one turned toward me. A fresh, hard wave of the darkness hit me, and I swallowed hard.

We began to run.

As if we’re not exhausted. As if we’re not dying from the strain.

I grit my teeth and pulled along the banister, trying not to show any sign of exertion- it wouldn’t do. Not while that darkness was chasing us, it wouldn’t do to show it that I couldn’t handle it- that bastard nonentity would just go faster.

As if we need this!

I glanced over my shoulder and- shit shit SHIT/- it was close enough to see eyes. Now I could tell that the darkness was not; those were the eyes I had seen in the cells, the ones chasing us, the ones who were going to win this goddamned game of cat-and-mouse because with that- that /monster at the hull, how could they not?

Suddenly, we came upon a door, and without hesitation, Mitchell burst through it. The rest of us followed with frantic lurches, stumbling onto the ground as he slammed the door shut behind us. I lay on the rough floor, gasping in deep gulps of cool air, pushing myself up even as my lungs screamed with pain. There was a stitch in my side and it felt like nothing because we weren’t in the clear yet.

“Oh- Oh my God,” Angel whispered. I looked up and saw a dark gray sky, felt wind on my cheeks. Exits of air vents and a clear view for miles.

We were on the roof.

You will be racing to escape, but you'll have to find out where that is on your own.

We were on the fucking roof.

you'll have to find out

“Damn it!” I got on my knees and stared again around me, hoping to see something else, anything else, whatever meant that this wasn’t the goddamned roof and we weren’t at the end. I fisted my hair and sucked in more of that deliciously pure air that meant everything I was afraid of. “Oh, fuck- it- /all/!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Angel looked confused, her brows pinched in worry. Behind her, Mitchell raked a hand through his hair. Brian was eyeing the door we had come from, and Christina was watching us warily.

“This- this…” I thrust a hand out as though presenting the gloomy world we had come upon. “/This/ is what’s wrong! Do you know what he said? He said we had to find escape and you know what that means? It means that either we missed our chance a long time ago, or that the only way we’re going to win is to throw ourselves off of /this fucking place/! That’s what’s fucking /wrong/!”

Mitchell let out a little laugh. “It’s like the plane all over again. I guess I was right.”

“Shut the hell up!” I let my hands fall to my sides and bowed my head in a condescension I did not want to admit. “It’s all that stupid guy’s fault- that fucking /guy/, that fucking bastard asshole /guy/…”

“Well, that’s not very nice.”

And, oh, I didn’t even need to look up to know who said that, I didn’t even need to hear him say it because I knew it would be there because it was /him/. The man from the plane, the man from the mall, the man from every single nightmare I’d ever had in my entire life- even the ones that had nothing to do with anything. Every fear I’d ever felt, every worry or bit of concern that I ever experienced- it was all there in /him/, and a part of me felt that he knew it. He knew it and that’s how he wanted it to be.

It was like that because that’s how he wanted it to be.

I looked up anyway. He was walking toward our little battered cavalry, flanked by Monyo and Ydem (or Liev and Velei or Fuckhead and Fuckface), wearing a pristine white lab coat and his standard, shit-eating grin. Christina froze; Angel had tensed up; Brian and Mitchell pinned him with dark glares.

“What?” He smiled around at us. “You all look like I’ve done you some great wrong… What’s your trouble, children?”

“You piece of /shit/,” I spat, at the same time Mitchell growled, “you fucking asshole!”

“You two have gotten much more vulgar since I’ve last checked,” he mused. “Ydem, kindly fetch their files?”

Ydem, creepy-faced by the way he had no face, nodded and moved away. He disappeared into the door we arrived from, leaving it wide open. Angel ran to shut it, but the airplane-slash-mall-slash-super-jerkoff guy was quicker: his arm stretched and /stretched/, simultaneously morphing into that God awful claw, and hooked itself around her waist before yanking her back with a sharp tug. She screamed, landing hard on the rough pavement.

“Angel!” Christina and I knelt by her, making sure she wasn’t dead or paralyzed or anything like that- and thankfully, she wasn’t. It made me wonder if this small blessing would want to be repaid with a large curse.

“I can’t let you all leave just yet, you know,” the man said by way of explanation, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides… I think by now you’ve figured out that this is the finish line. You need to wait for the rest of the competitors- as I understand, they’re all dying to meet you.”

A strange mumbling noise crescendo’d with the pit in my stomach and the chill in my spine. It’s coming from the stairs, that much was sure- whether they are more subdued or more rowdy was what’s unclear.

Either way, it didn’t have a happy ending.

The man’s grin widened.

“That’s them now, maybe I should introduce you… Except, I think you’re familiar with the unofficial ringleader…”

They appear in the doorway, and my heart seems to stop because I was familiar with the ringleader, too familiar with the ringleader, and it’s like looking at a stranger who I recognize only because he was at the trial of a murdered loved one. The prime suspect, never convicted until now.

I can’t believe it’s him.

I kind of saw this coming.

That’s twenty to life and back again, Kevin.