Here and Back Again-Sylaire-Part 2 (work in progress)

[black_hat]

 

Same disclaimer as before. It still applies :-).

Chapter 2

It was ironic. But it couldn’t be helped.

Claire clung to her kidnapper because out of all of the people there, he was the most normal one there. She watched through the trees as they came in droves, people in long clothes and dark robes, and felt very unreal.

“I have such a bad feeling about this,” she whispered, crossing her arms in front of her to hold in her fear.

“You’re psychic too?” he muttered. “You should have mentioned that.”

“It’s plain, common sense. I stand out. You fit in, you’re in all black, but I’m in a pink coat here.”

“It’s not as if they can hurt you.”

She started and looked up at him, surprised. “That’s right, isn’t it? Huh.”

“You do realize what this is,” Gabriel said, walking close to her and brushing a spare bit of hair out of her face. It was as if they were co-conspirators or something, but that wasn’t how things were between them. Claire was more or less the captive audience. However, with the sky changing and twisting above them, it was hard not to be just that—captivated.

“Well, yeah. I have a pretty good idea.”

“Guess what they worship.”

“…Someone like you and me.”

He nodded, and she saw more darkness in him than the night or the cloaks. They were play-pretending. Ironically, they had indeed welcomed something in their midst.

“You’re going to do whatever it is you do, aren’t you?” she whispered, afraid. The inclusiveness vanished, and he grabbed the collar of her jacket and tightened it.

“If it bothers you so much, you could always try and stop me,” he offered with a smile. She shrugged him off, feeling smaller than ever. “There, you see? I knew you’d prove me right.”

She looked at her feet, and he resumed the more casual position of looping an arm around her shoulders. She wondered if it was out of possessiveness alone, or if she was a shield for any unexpected surprises.

The trail ran out, and he led her over to a small corner of the procession. In a way, they were lucky. Others were apparently new at this gathering, and looked around, frightened. Were they here against their will, Claire wondered. A small-town nightmare, but she was curious as to how this had stayed hidden for so long.

The sky was almost literally falling on their heads. Someone should have kinda noticed by now.

There was stillness in the air as they all waited for something. She shifted from side to side and he tightened his grip. She was about to cough obnoxiously until there was a horrible crash of thunder, and lightening—

It was a moment of utter chaos for anyone who was unprepared for the arc of lightening that hit the ground in the midst of the crowd, making the air sizzle and burn with an energy. Moreover, it hit the ground perilously close to them, in particular. It was nearly blinding, and there was a second of suspended disbelief for her.

For him, there was something entirely different. Oh, it surprised him, and she felt him flinch underneath his clothes. And that was very, very bad. From the most rudimentary understanding she had of this man, he didn’t like to be…outdone? Surprised? Weak? It was bad news for her because she had felt it, had caught that moment unintentionally. Moreover, the person on the other side of it was going to be in for hell. It would be similar to running up to a beehive and hitting it with your open palm to see what happened.

He glared down at her, in this moment, as if daring her to say anything. She didn’t, perhaps more out of being stunned than any wisdom or self-preservation. Then, as if given a secret sign of some sort, several people in cloaks fell to the ground like dominoes. On their knees, heads on the ground, and unfortunately from her view, butts in the air.

No.

“Uh, I’m not doing that,” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

“Like I am,” he snapped back.

“Welcome,” someone said softly, and in the middle of the clearing, there was a woman…quite suddenly so as if she had sprung out of the ground. She was fairly pretty, in Claire’s opinion, with dark hair and deep, blue eyes. The only drawback was that she was green.

“I hope that’s paint,” she whispered. He pinched her. But for many good reasons, she didn’t mind because her attention was fixed on the bizarre—absolutely, bizarre—sight in front of her. Then she realized what the green was covering up.

The woman had no clothes on.

“Ookkay,” she muttered, and got pinched harder.

“I’ve been waiting. For each and every one of you.”

God, she hoped not. This was terrible. The woman was about to get murdered, and she was having her fair share of amusement. Then two of the crowd brought what appeared to be a throne up front, all the while, groaning under its weight. Claire smiled at the ground, trying desperately hard not to laugh. It didn’t help when Gabriel added his own undertone of agreement that she caught under his whisper.

“You won’t have to wait much longer.” Sneer, smirk. She stared up at him, and wondered vaguely if he would be fried before he got close.

“I confess disappointment, however. Some of you have been slacking.” There was a pointed, ominous silence. “Your fellows have brought great suffering upon your heads. How many have died, since our last meeting?”

Claire looked up, surprised. “The little girl needn’t have died, you know. It was only a few inches of rain a day where I kept her. But eventually, time ran out, and clearly, her parents truly didn’t care to part with a few trifles for her life.”

She cast another look at Gabriel, and saw he only cared about the how rather than the what. How to cause the rain regardless….well, regardless.

“I take no pleasure in that, you know. And you do know…I only wish to guide you. These powers came to me for a reason, and one reason alone. I am the vessel. I am the key to any hope of your salvation.”

Now—of course—he looked as if he disagreed. Everyone else in this little freak festival seemed eager to nod, and agree, and Claire almost started laughing at them all. A dark, red anger started to build up in her chest.

“I am the one who could possibly transcend to the purest of states. And I need payment in blood from you, who I allow to exist on these lands.”

“What the hell?” she whispered, and remained un-pinched. “You know…you should go up there, and show her up for the fake liar she is.”

“You’d want me to?” he asked, slyly. “Because if you think that’s a good idea…”

“No!” she said, quickly, remembering who she was talking to. “I don’t! I think-.”

“Or you could do something,” he offered, looking curiously at her. “These people would be amazed by anything, no matter how one-note it truly is.”

She paused, eyes wide. Unexpected yet true. Very true. She could but at the same time, didn’t think she was capable of…well, whoever she had been before did not like the wrong kind of attention. Even now, the suggestion made her more than a little queasy.

“Bring out the sacrifice!”

Claire froze, disbelieving, as they pulled a thirty-year old, scared woman out from behind the tree where Big Green lounged. She could tell by the way the woman was looking at the faces around her that these were her friends, neighbors, and perhaps even family. And they were about to…

“I hate to do this,” Big Green announced, standing up to her full height. “But what you fail to offer me in payment translates into blood. Does anyone disagree? Does anyone want to step up and simply do the right thing?”

“Y-you ask too much,” said one of the uncloaked people there. “There’s no way we can possibly give you what you asked by the end of the month!”

“Well, then, I’ll take it now.”

“The hell you will!” Claire called out, without thinking. Gabriel tensed and looked down at her for the first time during this show started. “You’re not the only one who’s special around here, lady. In fact, it’s pretty much commonplace.”

Unfortunately, she had everyone’s attention.

“It’s true,” Gabriel said, sounding resigned. She spun around in shock. “The girl, she’s…well, why don’t you show them, Claire? There’s no point in hiding what you really are among those with such…open minds.” He pushed her forward and stepped back, looking so fake-humble it was appalling.

What was his game?

“Well?” the woman hissed, bringing her back to earth.

“Fine. I’ll-er, I’ll need a knife. Anything sharp.” She hesitated.

“Break a leg,” he whispered, and smiled a truly grotesque smile. She walked quickly to the front of the circle, if only to put some distance between him and her, feeling bolder due to the crowd.

“Go on,” Big Green said to her confused followers. “Someone let her have it.”

A man, a big man, jumped to his feet, and drew a large knife out of his belt. And she saw to her horror it had been used before. He rushed towards her, and she didn’t run, but held her arms out to the side, welcoming it. After a second’s hesitation, due to her passivity to his attack, he stabbed her.

In the stomach. She went down hard, falling on her back. That was embarrassing…but she struggled back to her feet and wiped the dirt and grime over her jeans. Everyone stared. She smiled and pulled the knife out of her stomach.

“…That was my favorite shirt,” she muttered, wiping at the growing stains.

Then— they drew back, a few running, and several screaming. Big Green’s eyes bulged, and she shifted away, jumping off her make-shift thrown. But only for a moment.

“A healer,” she replied, and threw any excuses of obtuseness out the window at the same time.

“And you’d be what—a weather girl?” Claire replied, smirking. “Are you going to make a little rain to throw at me?”

And thunder. And lightening.

“It’s rare that another comes around. I’ve killed all the others before you.” Calmly. “The implications of this is…where is your friend?”

She looked and saw an empty space through the row of strangers. Gabriel was gone.

“He doesn’t matter,” Claire said, spitefully, but wondered what she was going to do. Was she left in the spot to kill this woman? “I’m going to give you a warning. Back off, now, while you still can.”

‘Or you’ll what?’ was the natural answer.

“Of course,” Big Green said. “I’ll back off. They, on the other hand…”

In a way, they were innocent people. Stupid people, but innocent, maybe through ignorance alone. But at her command, they rose as one, and ran at her, men, women, and a few kids who were probably younger than she was. Mostly she caught glimpses, flashes on knives, and knew—in a horrible instant when you see the oncoming car before it was too late to turn the wheel—that she was in over her head.

She backed away, and then broke into a run. She swerved past the open fire—not eager for the witch-burning treatment—and by then, two had already caught up with her. One—a man for sure—pulled her arm back, and another in a wretched mask of red and gold raised a knife over his head and stabbed her.

This time it was in the neck, and she gasped. And she was stabbed again, and again. Oh god, they were going to cut her into pieces, oh my god, they were going to get more creative... There were footfalls all around her, and in a minute, a moment, a second…

Break a leg.

In a flash of inspiration, she got it. She was still operating under set rules that she was vulnerable. It was worth a try at least. She jerked away from the man holding her arms back, and felt her left arm break. Fine, she didn’t need it to grab the blade of the knife above her.

It went through her hand, and she grasped it, tearing it away from the lady who had been hacking away at her in a very un-lady-like manner. Then, she brought up her leg and kicked. She got the horrible bitch in the neck, and felt justified when the woman went down hard, gasping for breath.

“That doesn’t work on me,” she growled, and with an inner grimace, swiftly turned with the knife to…

It was still in her hand, and for some reason, it made her aim very good. Lucky for the guy, since she was aiming for the shoulder.

The others in the lynch mob slowed down, and branched out, circling her. This was ridiculous. Where was he?!

Her arm clicked together, apparently ready to be broken again. “Come on, then. Whatever. Nothing you could possibly do will stop me, and if you force me, I--.”

Claire was cut off in mid-speech, as a bolt of lightening…struck her dead in the chest. It was possibly the most surreal experience she had had, even including the forgotten gaps in her head. As she felt her heart stop, she spiraled into unconsciousness, feeling herself hit the ground, throwing leaves up in the air, and being utterly…

Pathetic.

She tried to open her eyes, and realized that this was more trouble than usual. Her eyes felt burnt. Singed. She choked down revulsion, and forced them open with her fingertips. Something scratched her face.

A knife was still enclosed in an otherwise perfectly healed hand. It was like one of those fake weapons they sell for Halloween. Trick or Treat kind of, and she really did feel like Frankenstein’s monster. Her hair, for one…she smelt something burnt, cooked, and though her body was fine now, was thoroughly grossed out by herself.

She managed to open one eye, and wished she hadn’t been able to.

He was sitting on Big Green’s forgotten throne, as if he were predictably a king. King of what, king of where, was the real story. There were…horribly, twisted things all around her, like bad, stick figure drawings sketched by a shaking hand.

Equally cooked, and for them, it stuck.

“Oh god,” she choked out, sitting up and staring…and remembering something. Before she was killed again, he had been Gabriel. Now, there was a new name in front of him, something…with an S…something important, and she was nearly there, on the threshold of remembering him as he was.

“I know what it looks like,” he began. “And it is exactly how it looks.”

She stared at him.

“They say lightening never strikes the same place twice. Turns out, that’s not entirely true.”

“I…don’t understand. They were innocent. Stupid, yes, but just...”

“Sure they were. Interesting…interesting you’d assume I’d do a thing like this. I hate barbecue. For the record.”

“You mean she did it. And she’s dead. So…”

“It was a twitch. One last, little twitch. Her aim was off by a few feet, give or take. When tampered with. I’ll give her that, she had improved slightly.”

“Seems to me she was very accurate.” There was a hole in her shirt. Damn. “And the girl? The one they were going to sacrifice?”

He motioned behind him, and Claire saw the woman was alive, unconscious…. she hoped.

“So you didn’t do this? You really didn’t?”

“What does it matter? You’ll think I did, anyway. To me, it’d be like killing ants with a magnifying glass. Absolutely pointless. A child trying to be god with tools from Office Depot. So figure it out, Claire, and believe what you want.”

He paused, sitting back and looking at the sky, thoughtfully as if something burning deep inside of him was cooling down, winding back. She noticed there were clouds again, boiling over her head like smoke, only it was a thicker, softer type of cloud. It made her remember something, an essence, off a holiday card.

“You weren’t half bad yourself. But not nearly good enough. You had the natural advantage. What happened?”

“Uh, I was fried. It’s not the easiest thing to get back up from.”

“Then I guess that means you’re reaching the end of your limits. If it was perfect, your ability, you could stand any attack and still function.”

“Well, excuse me,” she mumbled, and moved towards the still figure in the clearing. Only to steer towards him, drawn and pushed like a horse in a carriage, with him absolutely lounging in that chair.

She drew closer, and he took her hand, admiring the knife embedded in her skin. “So this is as good as it gets for you.”

Then he rubbed the edge of her wound with his fingers, studying it, and appreciating it fully. It was almost gentle, almost loving. But not for her, as a person, but as a part. For an ability that just happened to be embedded into her by chance.

"You...uh, didn't help me."

He looked up in surprise. "You're a big girl, Claire. I thought you could handle it yourself."

Thn he returned abruptly to his study. She found herself strangely pleased to such an extent that she was embarrassed.

To change the subject, Claire focused on the surroundings with a question in her mind. “Why would they worship her, I wonder? She wasn’t the type of person I’d follow, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, look around this dustbowl,” he said, and with his glare, the knife came out of her hand with a sick pop, and she flinched. “For miles around, there was nothing. But here, they’ve made a killing on their little farms. All because of her. This knife for instance? It’s expensive. You don’t find this type of metalwork just anywhere. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Is it? I don’t think so.”

“All those old stories about gods. All those myths and legends were most likely about us, all leading up to one. Anyway, about you…”

Claire waited. “The little heroine of the story. What now?”

She blinked, surprised. “…I guess we need to get that woman to a hospital.”

“Because the nearest hospital, with the constant demand for equipment, would have nothing to do with this fiasco at all. Right.”

“Then what? We can’t just leave her here.”

There was a sound of the rustling of grass, and Claire saw the woman was stirring.

“I won’t be stuck with bring her along, but …I wonder if there was more than one special here. And what better way to draw them out.”

He got up, pushing her aside, and she was dismissed, she guessed. Only she wasn’t going to let that happen. So she walked quickly behind him, and saw him change. In an intangible way, something that spoke of the unreality of people, of maybe even herself…

In a moment, he was someone else, and when he knelt by the hurt woman, he was all kindness.

“Hey there. Don’t try to get up too quickly,” he muttered, putting a hand on her shoulder. To Claire’s satisfaction, the woman flinched, and began to back way—well, as well as she could in her condition. Then she figured out the lady had her brown eyes trained on her.

“She’s harmless. Perfectly tame,” he offered. “She works for me.”

Claire felt a strong desire to kick him in the head, but restrained herself. Just Barely. Death wishes or not, she was growing sicker of this by the moment.

“W-what is all this?! What happened to…” She looked around, noticing what exactly had happened, and seemed about to burst into hysterics.

“It was unavoidable. Before we could neutralize her, it was too late. I know you’ve been through a lot tonight, but we need to move you to a safe place. Can you stand up?”

“I…I think so, I think…” The woman stuttered, trying and nearly falling before he caught her. The look of slavish gratitude on her face bothered Claire immensely. How unreal. How disgustingly messed up.

“It’s okay, don’t rush it. We’ve still got time, and you’re safe now. Claire, go get the car and bring it closer for our friend here, okay?”

He threw her the keys and she caught them, scowling. Halfway down the trail, she heard him practically cooing at the lady, like a child finding a new pet he liked. This was going to end badly.

On her way back to the car, it had begun to snow.