CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR- Gerald and back pain

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I woke up with some level one-million back-pain. Like seriously, why? I didn't open my eyes for a minute, hoping maybe all the bad stuff that had gone down had been a dream. But then I opened my eyes and found someone staring right back at me, which was so traumatizing I jumped up shouting "What the hell?!" and headbutting the person.

"Um ow!" Enoch exclaimed, rubbing his forehead which was already bruising.

"It's your fault for standing right there and just staring down at me like some creepy weirdo!" I exclaimed, glaring and crossing my arms.

"You're such a child," he said. How rude.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Shut up, both of you!" I heard Horace exclaim, and looked out to see him vibing in a cell next to us. You've got to be kidding me. Of all people I was stuck in a prison cell with, it had to be the grumpiest kid alive. Hooray.

I groaned and slumped against the wall, observing my surroundings. I was stuck in a crusty musty dusty cell with Enoch. Bronwyn and Claire were in a cell- Oh hey! Claire! But there was no sign of Fiona. Dammit.

Hugh and Horace were also in a cell, and I saw a floating jumpsuit just chilling in one, so I assumed that was Millard. I saw another cell that I expected held Althea, since it was nothing but iron all around. So she couldn't use her ice. I winced and hoped she was alright. There were no signs of the snake charmer lady, the normal looking boy, or the clown anywhere. There was also some old-grandpa looking wight guarding us. His nametag read Gerald.

"My back hurts," I complained, leaning against the wall. I got the most unexpected answer ever.

"You're too young to have back pain!" the wight barked.

"Well alright Gerald, you're too old to be alive but here we are!" I shot back. Enoch attempted to cover up a laugh with a cough and I held up the finger at the Gerald guy. Suck it loser.

Well, that was the start of the few days in hell. And by that I mean they literally tried to suck out my soul. Through my foot. Like, I don't know what weird fetishes you guys have, but please stay away from me. Those two days were as hellish as you could imagine. Not just people trying to suck out my soul, taunting and catcalls from some of the wights, even. Like, I know I'm hot but I'm way out of y'alls league. Like seriously.

Anyway, at one point I was dragged in to be interrogated by the wights, which sucked, and they asked me some stuff like if I knew where Jacob and Emma were, which I did not, thank you very much.

Another time I managed to fall asleep on the cold, hard stone floor and had a dream-meeting thing with the two Victors. This was quite strange.

The first Victor was talking to me, and suddenly his eyes turned blank white. I gasped and stepped back, then threw the chair at him, and he melted. Legit just melted, right there. Then he turned into Dr. Golan, covered in blood and chains, burned and scarred in different places, a hole in the side of his head where Jacob had shot him. I winced, but then stepped backward, having nothing to protect myself with, but all he did was smile, laugh, and disappear into thin air. Just like that. Poof, he was gone.

The next meeting I had was with the other one who claimed to be Victor. I didn't entirely trust him either, so I threw the chair at him, too. This time he shrieked and ducked, and I noticed something on his face. Stitched lines.

I walked over and held my hand out, and he hissed at me, but then I pulled at one of the lines and it came off, revealing the pale face of a sickly-looking little girl behind it.

"Who are you?" I whispered, and she looked down.

"My name is Hera Homelarn, and I was one of the light eaters," she whispered. Light eaters. I had heard of those before- in the prophecy my future self had talked about. Her wings were loose now, and her clothing saggy. This was the person who had been imprisoned in that body.

"Why did you tell me you were Victor?" I asked. She pointed behind me.

"Because they threatened me," and I looked behind me to see flames pouring out of an enormous oven, eyes glowing in front of it and black silhouettes dancing around the oven. They cackled and threw bodies into the flames, feeding it, as piercing shrieks raked the air. It was horrible. I looked back to see not Hera standing before me, but Victor Bruntley.

"Another fake?" I said, and he shook his head.

"I don't know what it will take for you to believe me, but I'm the real Victor Bruntley." he replied.

"Alright, prove it." he reached out a hand, and gestured for me to take it. I did, and suddenly blue lights danced in my vision and I was floating a million miles a minute. Seeing things he had seen. Imprisonment, Hera being forced to look like young Caul, Dr. Golan taking the form of Victor, being hurt in many ways. He was supposed to be safe in heaven, but the devil was trying to turn it dark.

Suddenly, I stopped seeing his memories. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, and he smiled. A real, genuine smile. A smile that showed so many emotions at once- fear, anger, sadness, regret, joy, love. I smiled back, hoping that it would mean something. This broken, corrupted world could be fixed if the right people tried hard enough.

"I have to go now," he whispered, "Until we meet again. And trust me, we will."

"Until we meet again," I whispered, kissing him on the cheek before everything vanished and I was back on the cold cell floor, wondering what the dream meant.


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HAPPY GAYMAS EVE, BAES!!
I'M BACK!!!!
This chapter and the next one are sorta random, but that ok we vibing. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and I'll update again soon, ily <3


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