"I came because I've spent my whole life in the company of the brother that I hated. Now I want a chance to know the brother that I love, before it's too late, before we're not children anymore."
~ Orson Scott Card (Ender's Game)
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Time seemed to slow down as the man's hand reared back and brought the knife towards Sherry in a dawdling, scathing arc. Warren's own head was spinning with a fear he didn't even know he could feel.
But when his ears caught the frightened cry of Sherry, something inside of him snapped.
What was he doing? He was Wrath! He brought disaster, not this baldie in steroids!
That sudden realisation made him scream in rage and pounce over the man. Startled at the abrupt attack, the man stumbled back and fell, Warren wriggling over him, trying to get his hands on the knife. But the man was quicker and stronger. He kicked Warren away as if he were a mere doll.
The force of the push was too much for his skinny child's body and Warren found himself sailing through the air and over the parapet of the rooftop. He shrieked in fear as he barely caught himself on the railing, hanging on to it for dear life. He heard Sherry yell, "NO! Warren!"
Sweat beading his forehead and his heartbeat going haywire, he chanced a look below. Big mistake.
The ground was way below him and if his grasp slipped, he'd be but a splattered messy omelette of muscles and bones with his blood as jus. Yum.
Oh, Goodness help him, he was fantasizing his own death.
Grunting, he slowly pulled himself up, ignoring the fear clamming up his throat and landed on the terrace, panting hard. He was relieved to find that Sherry was up on her feet and weakly defending herself from the man, using her powers to make him stumble or roll over. But she could only continue that for so long without tiring.
A vicarious anger suddenly clouded Warren's mind, a rage he had never felt before. And he found himself doing something he had promised he would never do.
Being Wrath, his abilities tended to be scarier than his brethrens. Even he was unsure of their extents or their limitations. But a long time ago, when he was younger and more willing to experiment, he had discovered something within himself – a darker side that scared him even today. He ended up hurting someone close to him. The worst part was he didn't even feel bad, not for a long time, at least.
He thought he had locked away that power.
But, now, as he watched the man overcome Sherry's powers and brandish the knife again, something made him recall that side. He closed his eyes, sweat beading his forehead, and thrust out his trembling hands.
The man paused suddenly, going still as a statue.
He wasn't doing it willingly of course. No, it was all Warren.
Warren gasped as he felt himself gain control over the man. He felt the man's body around himself, like a transparent blanket. Yet, he could only feel the man's physicality, not his...thoughts, like he was supposed to. He couldn't feel the man's feelings.
The man seemed to be a callous, unthinking shell. But when Warren dared to dig deeper, risking whatever sanity remained of the guy, he felt something --- something foreign inside the man's head, something that didn't belong there. Something...scary.
And then Warren realised, with a paralysing fear seizing him, that he wasn't the only one possessing the man.
The guy, still frozen in place, turned around his head to look at Warren, his neck twisting with a sickening crack as it bent unnaturally. A chilling smile curled his lips.
"Hello, Wrath," said a throaty voice. It seemed to come from the man but his lips hadn't moved. And judging from Sherry's scared, clueless face, Warren realised that the voice was inside his mind.
Warren stumbled back, the shock making him lose control of the guy's head. The man roared again and looked ready to charge at Sherry, as if nothing had happened to him, as if there weren't two people trying to take control of him.
Sherry screamed again as the man advanced towards her, ready to gut her through, when something shimmered in the air behind him. Warren cried out in relief as Miracle and Blue materialised out of thin air.
Miracle didn't even waste one second. He lunged at the man from behind, blithely kicking off the knife from his hand and making him fall headfirst into the floor, the sound of his nose cracking against the tile, satisfactory. The man groaned from the ground but Miracle heavily sat down on top of him, preventing the guy from even budging.
And then he extended a hand towards Blue who passed him...a poker? Warren hadn't even realised that she was carrying one.
Miracle quickly snatched it and whacked the man over and over again in the head until he stopped struggling, completely out cold.
Miracle grinned, jumping to his feet, wielding the poker as if it were an ancient, magical staff.
"Damn, whacking really works!" he exclaimed. "This might just be my new fighting technique to beat up bad guys!"
Blue snorted while Sherry rushed over to them and swept them both in a hug, almost weeping with relief. Blue, for a second, looked a little green in the face. But, then, she smiled hesitantly and patted Sherry's back. Warren walked over to them and stood silently as Sherry launched into a not-so-short-version of what had happened while Miracle and Blue told their own tale and how they'd come to find Warren and Sherry.
Warren, though, barely paid attention. His mind kept reeling back to that same voice inside his head, making goosebumps appear in his arms.
He felt a nudge in his arms and found Miracle looking at him, his eyebrows raised questioningly. Even though neither of them had ever been in good terms, both could strangely tell when the other was not okay. It was something that Warren found both annoying and precious. It made him wonder sometimes that, had circumstances been different, maybe they would've been friends. Brothers, even.
Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. Warren knew that for Miracle, he was nothing more than the bothersome counterpart. Someone who created mess that Miracle had to end up resolving.
Nevertheless, Miracle needed to know about what happened today. So, Warren leaned over and said lowly, so as not to draw the attention of the girls, "There's something you need to know."
Miracle just nodded. "Later. Let's get out of here now.'
"What are you two whispering about?" Sherry asked, narrowing her eyes at the boys.
Warren shrugged. "Nothing. C'mon, let's go before someone or something else appears---"
As if on cue, the entire structure beneath them shook violently, startling the kids and the tourists all around. Gasps and cries of panic rose all around as the Taj continued to shake while dark clouds appeared on the sky, black, humid shadows falling over the place. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the kids --- confused, scared and completely unaware --- raced down the staircase and past the various chambers, blending in with the sea of running people, barely avoiding from being trampled all over.
Meanwhile, cracks were appearing in the towers and minarets of the Taj Mahal, debris raining all around --- and it didn't seem like an earthquake was making it do so.
Blue, Miracle, Warren and Sherry were getting swept along with the panicked crowd when suddenly the rumbles completely stopped. Everyone paused on their tracks, cautious still but relief starting to light up their faces.
The kids found themselves in the main antechamber where the grave supposedly was, giant double doors leading outside. However, as everyone started to trickle outside, being led by a team of security, abruptly, a web of cracks appeared on the marble floor.
"Wha--?" Blue cried as the floor beneath them split apart into tiny fractures. Screams erupted all over again as people hurried to get out, jostling and shoving each other.
Miracle grabbed Blue's hand and drew her back to the very side, plastering themselves on the walls, eyes wide with alarm, as the rupture continued to spread, until it stopped right at the feet of the kids. Warren started to exclaim beside her, "Oh sh---," when the floor burst into an explosion of marble and soil.
The cries of the kids drowned out with the blast as a hand – skeletal, rotting and crawling with maggots – thumped out from the hole that had appeared on the floor.
The disembodied hand was followed by a figure, nothing more than a skeleton with stretches of skin rotting in between its joints and body crevices. But, startlingly, it was clad in a pile of gold jewellery and some remaining pieces of clothes.
But what caught Blue's terrified gaze was the gold crown resting on the figure's head.
A crown meant for a queen.
Specifically, a dead queen for whom this tomb was built.
Did I just make Queen Mumtaz a zombie? Hell, yeah, I did XD (sorry, Shah Jahan, but it looks like your wife is now an undead.)
For anyone reader who might not be aware (although if you don't know this, you've probably been living under a rock), the Taj Mahal was built by the Mughal king, Shah Jahan for his wife, Mumtaz Mahal. It is located in a city called Agra in India and is one of the seven wonders of the world. I'm sure ya'll know this but I'm still putting it out there.
Anyways, if you enjoyed this chapter, please don't forget to press that cute little star button and leave me some comments on your thoughts. It would make my day :)