On a String

Chapter 14

They'd been controlling everything.

There had been a bomb on board.

Any softness still left from the morning left Kai's eyes (had it really only been a couple of hours ago when they'd been playing like kids?) as he examined the wreckage. Twinkling merrily, the flames danced around Zane's white figure as he sprayed the sail's remains with a thick layer of ice.

The flames died with ghostly hisses.

Hiss.... Dying.

Kai looked away, eyes downcast. The real world had come back (as everything else died, died, died and became dead, too far gone to save-). No more pillow fights...

(Haunted).

Like a child's playground in the rain- empty and dark. Not a place of imagination and freedom anymore, but rather a foreboding, lonely maze of soaking wood, slippery metal and old chipped paint set against a blackened sky of smudgy rainclouds. It was no longer a place where innocent dreams were made, but rather, where they were destroyed.

Somehow, everything seems darker when the rain is black and broken.

(Because raining is like being crushed and drowning at the same time... the darkness of drowning...)

(Because raining is like the sky weeping)

(Because raining covers the sun and hides the light)

(Because it had been raining when she died)

The real world had come back.

Kai's eyes hardened further and he took a step back from the smouldering ship.

Welcome back to reality.

Welcome back to hell.

This shouldn't have happened.

Was there any way to stop this group?

No matter what he did... what anyone did... they just kept coming back.

Kept controlling everything.

("Someone's been pulling the strings all along, Fireboy,")

Everything was building up in a confused web of lies. There were metaphors of metaphors, lies of lies, symbols buried in symbolism, shadows of shadows, shades of reason, shades of truth... truth that was twisted into more lies... and even lies twisted into truth.

Who could make sense of such jumbled nonsense?

Puppets, control, burning, manipulation, truth, terror, strings, ghosts, ropes, death, chains, resurrection, fire, broken, blood, knowledge, juxtaposition, all along, powerless, hanging, knives, heat, darkness, lies, colours, falling, Puppet Master, pain, concealed eyes, bombs, drowning...

There must be a pattern, but it was so intricate and twisted (twisted) Kai knew of no one who would be able to sort the truth from the lies and pave a clear path through the distorted jungle.

Wait.

("...I also researched the group. They didn't like that... so I guess that's why I'm here. What 'bout you, Kai?")

Yes, there might be a way.

A chance.

The chance of a chance.

The breath of a chance.

The chance of a chance of a chance.

The ghost of a chance.