We headed out a little before noon, and by the time we got there it was already after 1:00. I was quietly concerned about how fast we might lose daylight out here, but Jack reassured me that even if I couldn't see, he could still navigate in the dark. I guess only being able to see in static also means day and night don't really matter.
Yet another thing to add to the 'Weird things about Jack' list I've made.
One thing about Jack's old campus caught my attention right away, though; the fact that it had been burned. Nearly all of it was singed or broken, only the structure and bones of the building were left standing. Most of the walls were up, save for the ones inside.
Everything had a layer of soot and ash. You'd think a place that looked so clearly abandoned would have a bunch of graffiti on it but no, it was kinda eerie that it didn't have any outside markings at all. Honestly, it reminded me of that building Jack kept me in for so long. That one didn't have tags on it either. It's like both of these places aren't allowed to be touched by outside hands or something. It only adds to the uneasy feeling growing within me.
...Honestly what do we even do? With Jack's vision being the way it is, I assume he can only find things that are shaped oddly. I mean, he's looking hard nonetheless. I just feel so lost. I've never been part of a mystery like this. I don't know how to go about it.
I turn to Jack, who's looking a lot calmer than I was expecting. He heads in first and starts moving around rubble and looking through anything he can find. I take it upon myself to look over any papers that have been scattered around, since I'm the only one here who can read them. Nothing even remotely helpful here. Most of it's either so burned that you can't read it, or if it is intact it's just about mundane things like the school newspaper. I don't even see any administrative files here, which does feel incredibly strange. Even if there was a fire that destroyed most of the things here, wouldn't there be at least some important paperwork that survived? The longer we sit here searching the more uneasy I feel. It's like someone intentionally got rid of the important stuff then used the fire as a cover.
We spent a few more hours looking, and came up with absolutely nothing. Well, nothing but a hunch that this fire was lit on purpose. Jack and I both agreed. From the outside looking in, it's a normal fire; but with the context we have it's shocking how intentional this all felt. There's nothing here. There was never going to be anything here. The only option we have now is the cave, and something in me says that someone wanted it that way.
With deflated spirits and twilight seeping in soon, we begrudgingly head to the cave.
Jack stands motionless at the entrance, that grinding I hear on occasion rings out, along with a high pitched static ring. I know that sound by now. He's upset, maybe even scared. Even through his clothes I can see Jack's body tremble. He's shaking like a leaf. Usually he seems stiff and strong, steady as stone. But right now? Right now he looks delicate as paper, as if he's about to fold in on himself.
Ah, so he is scared.
I reach out and grab his hand, lacing my fingers between his talons. His attention finally breaks away from the gaping, endless shadows of the cave's entrance and snaps towards me. Even though I can't see his expression, something tells me there was a softness to his gaze, a tenderness he hasn't felt in a long time.
"I'm right here. You're not alone this time." I say, pushing down my own fear as I give him a little smile. His shoulders relax just enough that he's able to breathe again. He squeezes my hand, as gently as he possibly can, like he knows how easily he could break me. He then gives me a very soft nod. I take the first step with Jack trailing behind, his hand refusing to let go.
It's darkest right at the entrance, when there's still daylight to make the shadows deeper. The farther you go, the less wind you feel. Which, of course, makes breathing all the more difficult. Yet, when the sun is behind us and there's no light left, I find myself feeling less afraid than I'd expected.
Maybe because Jack's trembling hand still clings to my own. Maybe because I don't know the full extent of what this place means to him. Maybe it's because of the creepy light farther down the tunnel.
It's soft, yellow, and flickering like a candle's flame.
I want to stop, I want to freeze, but my curiosity pulls me deeper in. At this point it feels like my legs have a mind of their own. They want me to go in, they want me to find out what that light is. I feel like a moth drawn to a flame, and perhaps I'm about to be singed by the fire. Even still, I can't look away, I can't stop walking towards it. Jack is giving me no resistance, but I quietly wish he was.
Suddenly, I feel his legs dig into the dirt, halting me in turn. My body still pulls against his form. A twinge of panic sets in, as truly now my body is resisting me.
A gentle, cold touch on my shoulder breaks me from my trance. I blink and draw in a trembling breath. The compulsion to continue forward is gone, even when I lift up my eyes to look at the light again I don't feel the pull. I glance behind me, only able to see the outline of his mask in the incredibly dim light of the tunnel.
He doesn't say anything, but I can sense him quietly checking if I'm okay now. I nod my head slowly before straightening myself out. He shifts himself to walk beside me and we continue, hand-in-hand and side-by-side.
The transition from the dark tunnel to the lit end of the cave was sharper than I thought. I found myself wincing at the light and blinking away the stinging pain. When I regain my ability to see, I take note of my surroundings.
It's a big, closed off circle. Like an open room in the shape of a cul-de-sac. The only way out is the way we just came.
In simpler terms, it's a dead end.
Candles track along the entire wall, lit by who knows what. There, in the middle of the open floor, is a book. Big as hell and bound in some kind of dark stained leather. It sits delicately atop a length of neatly folded red fabric, like carpet rolled into a square. The floor around it has scorch marks.
This is definitely a trap.
It's also the only option we have.
We can't continue on the way we are, something's gotta give. Whatever happens is gonna happen anyway, so we might as well get it over with!
I take a step forward, intent to just pick up the damn book and be done with it. Instead, a firm hand latches onto my wrist and yanks me back. I nearly collapse at the force of it, but my back is cushioned by Jack's chest. My head lifts up to see soothing dark blue looking down at me. He repositions me so that I'm on my own feet again and scribbles a hasty message.
'Not you. I'm already cursed. If something is going to happen, it should happen to me.' I give him a nod in agreement, since I doubt he'd let me argue much anyway. He hands the notebook over to me before stepping towards the obvious trap. Something makes me take notice of the notepad. There's only two blank pages left in it, and a sinking feeling of finality washes over me. I snapped my head up, perhaps intending to make him stop, but it was too late.
He stoops down and picks up the book, his hands ungloved. The second he picks it up, the candles flicker and a massive rushing of wind almost knocks me to the ground. It's like the wind is being sucked out through the tunnel. In its place, stormy black smoke starts to rush in, filling the roof of the cave. It starts directly above Jack and spreads out until the cave looks like a room on fire.
The impression of burning bodies flashes into my mind along with sinister laughter, coming from someone I can't see. The floor is still open, the room still only has me and Jack, but the dark laughter is everywhere. It's all around me, yet I can't sense anyone it might belong to.
As I struggle to stay on my feet, I see Jack double over in pain. The high pitched static sound from earlier starts again, then gets louder, and louder. Until my ears feel like they're about to bleed. I clutch the sides of my head, trying to block out as much noise as I can. I don't want to take my eyes off of Jack for fear he might vanish the second I look away. But the wincing makes it hard to keep a steady eye on him.
"You think your curse was as bad as it gets? I was being kind to you." The malicious laughter turns to whispers, which turns to clawing inside my mind.
Each word it says sends Jack careening to the floor in agony. His grinding teeth and that unbreaking static squeal is the only thing I can hear now.
I want to call out to him. I want to rush over and drag him out of here, but I can't move at all. I'm paralyzed. All I can do is watch helplessly as Jack writhes.
Flashes of memories, not at all my own, play through my mind. As if a film strip were playing inside my eyelids, and slowly catching fire inside the machine.
A young man stands at the entrance we just walked through. He's surrounded by college aged kids, but their faces are all obscured and distorted. Almost like someone was trying to scrub them clean.
The reality in front of me and the images forcing themselves into my mind cut back and forth like a choppy home movie.
Jack doubles over, the sound of fabric tearing as something I can't see makes his body jerk and twist in all the wrong ways. The static ring is
uncomfortably similar to a scream now.
I want to yell out, I want to reach for Jack, but the smoke closes in on me. I feel my chest tightening up, the air around me getting thin and fading fast.
It's so hot but the candles are barely even lit. Where's this heat coming from?
The smell of smoke and the taste of ash fill my mouth. It feels like I've been caught in a house fire. The doors are locked and I can't get out. Sensations from here and now clash with the visions of the past in my head. Whatever this cursed god thing is, it clearly wants me to be part of the torment, too.
"Oh, poor boy. Don't you remember what happened the last time you brought 'friends' here?"
Another vision, that same young man whose face I can't see. He sits in the center of the room I'm in now, in the exact place Jack is. Two people on either side hold his arms out, a bucket of boiling black tar pouring down his face. I hear him scream.
The screams from when he was still human, and the static ring mesh together now, forming something truly heart wrenching. I can see the flesh of his eyes boil in their sockets.
The tar leaking from the eyes in Jack's mask, usually at a slow trickle, heats up to a boil. The tar melts the mask around his skin, steam and smoke pouring from his eyes like a campfire. It gets hotter, and the tar pours faster, until the mask slips off his face entirely.
Gray skin like a rotting corpse, hollow eyes with nothing behind them, and jagged fangs like shark teeth. Is this why he never took the mask off?
"What a monster you are, Jack."
Jack's arms are pulled back by nothing at all, yanking out of their sockets and stretching like taffy to extend well past his knees. Instead of fingernails turned to talons, Jack's bones are ripped out of his fingertips, forming milky white claws.
The short jagged teeth now extend down and fill his mouth like razor blades, making Jack unable to close his mouth anymore. Multiple sickly purplish-blue colored tongues wriggle out of his mouth. They're the color of bruised skin. They look like octopus tentacles without the suction cups, and they're wrong when they move. Tears burn at my eyes, feeling hotter than humanly possible. My own tears begin steaming too, and part of me wonders if this feeling is similar to the one Jack felt all those years ago. Back when he was still human.
His knees buckle and break, getting much the same treatment his arms did.
"Your hunger was tolerable then, but it will be unbearable now."
I can't take my eyes off Jack. Tears roll down my cheeks as I watch him fight off the transformation in vain.
His horrifying face looks at me. I can see the final fading pieces of his cognizance and recognition on his features. I see him fight to keep his humanity while the curse spreads through his skin like a disease. The persistent static screech turns into something head splitting.
" ̢̢͈̄̎̎̀͟Ŗ͚̘̱̌͒̎̒ ̞̟͆̒Ų̦̟̔̃̾̽͢ ̮̗̏̚N̪̙͗́ ̫̙͕̀̾̑͟͞͝ͅ!̱̕ ͈͕͉͆̄̉!̡̫̼̿͡͡ ̡̤̣͊̊͞ " He opens his mouth and screeches. It was the last words he spoke before the kindness in his features vanished. The ringing static overtook his voice. It sounds like a voice screaming through the busted speaker of a dying radio.
It was desperation. It was fear. And it was grief.
"You will devour everything you care for, starting with your guest." The dark voice laughs at its own cruelty.
Jack turns his attention to me, his broken limbs cracking and snapping as bones reset with each move he makes. He stalks closer, going slowly on purpose -we both know how fast he can be-. I get flashbacks to The Rake. Jack's movements now are much the same. And in the back of my mind, I wonder. Was The Rake some poor soul who got caught up in a similar situation, but lost himself along the way?
In addition to the inky blackness dripping from where his eyes once were, drool dribbles from his lips down his lips and coating his many tongues. I can see that his hunger, and I'm the most appetizing thing on the menu right now.