Erebus: Chapter 3-Ending

     A twig snapped behind me.  Quickly, I spun around to see.
     A small, black doe, half-hidden behind a tree, stood quietly, her head held high in the air.  Her yellow eyes glittered dully.  I tensed, expecting some sort of attack, but the little doe simply dipped her head toward us, then turned, and pranced further into the wood.
     "I think we should follow her," Wes said suddenly.  I nodded, because I had been thinking the exact same thing.  So we did.
     It wasn't long before we fell behind.  Wes's ankle had swelled up, all purple, and blue.  I figured we had lost the doe, but when we rounded a small bend, there she was, waiting patiently.  Several times, we had to just plain stop because of the pain.  But the doe was always waiting.
     Thankfully, she went on an easy route, where there weren't many things for Wes to stumble over.  But still, the walk seemed endless.  I caught myself falling asleep, still trudging along, multiple times.  If Wes hadn't have halted, I probably would've kept right on walking. . . Straight into a campfire.
     Yes, I said campfire.  Actually, there were several campfires, scattered about the clearing.  But what confused me most, was that, amidst all of those campfires, there stood about 7 or 8 small, wooden huts.  In my exhausted state, I barely registered the fact that, out of each doorway, faces peered out at me.  And not one of them had yellow eyes.
     "Vitti," a male voice called out,"Who--"  The voice cut off abruptly.
     Exerting all the energy I had left, I lifted my gaze to where it had come from.  Much to my surprise, and relief, I was greeted by a familiar sandy-haired, yellow-eyed boy, wearing his signature, plain black T-shirt.  It was Scott.
     "Oh my. . . Thema," he whispered, his already white face, paling even more.  He took a step towards me, and suddenly, the world tilted sideways.  I crumpled to the ground.  Apparently, I was not in the condition to be conscious, so my body decided to go to the unconscious side for awhile.  And to tell you the truth, that was alright with me.  I needed the rest.

     When I woke up again, some time later, I had no clue where I was.  The light was very dim, but I could tell I was in a large, enclosed area.
     Suddenly, I heard something shift next to me.  Not thinking, I kicked out wildly, connecting with something hard.  Whatever-it-was, oof-ed and began to curse loudly.  Then a hand shot out and grabbed my ankle.
     "Calm down, Thema!  Geez!  It's just me."  I immediately recognized Scott's deep voice, and sighed in relief.
     "You're pretty feisty," he said after a moment, releasing my ankle.
     My eyes were becoming adjusted to the dim light, and now I could see Scott, sitting cross legged next to me, rubbing his side.  His yellow eyes glowed dimly.
     "Sorry," I said, tucking my legs beneath me.  My foot was sore, now, thanks to Scott's super-hard ribcage. "Where am I?" I asked, looking around.  I was lying on a bed of soft grass.  I tugged at it, and found it was still stuck in the ground.  Cool.  At my feet was a make-shift blanket that looked like it had been patched together with raggedy-old T-shirts.  But it was soft, and warm, so I wrapped it tightly around my shoulders, like a cacoon.
     "Well, at the moment, you're in the House." Scott replied, stretching.
     I glanced around again.  "This is a house?" I said skeptically.
     "No," Scott shook his head, "You're in the House.  We call it the House, because it's the main building, where all the new arrivals stay, until we can place them in a Hut.  This is also where the rest of us stay."
     I blinked, remembering the faces that had peered out of their doorways at me.  I had seen every eye color there was, except for yellow, in those doorways. "Wait," I said, holding up a finger. "What do you mean, the rest of you?"
     "Well, I'm sure you noticed, even in your zombie-like state, earlier, that not one person in any of the Huts had yellow eyes."
     I nodded.
     "Well," he said, holding out his arms, "this is where the yellow-eyed ones stay."  He flashed me a crooked grin and leaned back against the wall, placing his arms behind his head.
     That was a simple concept to understand, but I was still confused about something. "Okay, but besides the eye color, what's the difference?"
     Scott sat up, his grin disappearing. "You mean between us and them?" he asked, pointing towards the far wall.
     "Yeah."
     "Well," he said with a shrug, "I guess you could say that we're dead, and they're not."  He resumed his relaxed pose against the wall.
     That was not what I was expecting, although I didn't really know what I was expecting in the first place, but never mind that.  "Wait, you're dead?" I asked incredulously.
     Scott wrinkled his nose. "Well, in a manner of speaking."
     I waited, but he didn't continue. "What do you mean, in a manner of speaking?" I finally prompted.
     He hesitated. "You sure you're not going to freak out?" he asked, unconsciously rubbing his arm.
     "I'll try," I responded honestly.
     "First of all, I should tell you where we are."
     "That would help," I nodded.
     "This place is called Erebus.  In Greek religion, it's considered a personification of darkness.  In ancient Greek, it literally translates to "deep blackness/darkness, or shadow."
     My mind immediately went to the smoke monster.
     Scott cleared his throat, then continued. "Greek mythology states that Erebus was the son of the god Chaos, and represented darkness and shadow.  He was brother to Nyx, the goddess of Night.  The word Erebus was usually used as a synonym for Hades, the god of the underworld.  Some legends even say that Erebus was a part of the underworld, where the deceased were sent immediately after death, to wait for Charon, the ferryman, to ferry them across the river Styx, and into one of the three sections of the Underworld:  Tartarus, the Fields of Asphodel, or the Elysian Fields."
     "What's the difference between the three?" I asked.  Now, I sort of regretted never paying attention in English Lit.
     "Tartarus was where the wicked were sent as punishment for their sins.  The Elysian Fields were reserved for the heroic and virtuous.  But most just wandered as shadows in the Fields of Asphodel."
     I pondered all this for a moment, then said, "So, basically, we're in Hell."
     He wrinkled his nose, again. "No, Hell is much worse.  Think of it as a step-up from Hell.  It's more like the Fields of Asphodel, if you want to speak mythologically."
     "So, then you guys are dead, right?"  I knew he had said they weren't exactly dead, but after what he just told me, the whole thing screamed dead people.
     "See, that's where it gets confusing.  In a way, you could say we're dead.  I mean, we're here, after all, but. . ."
     "But, what?" I prompted.
     ". . . Our bodies are still alive."  His tone had turned cautious, now, and his eyes were wary.
     "Wait, so, your bodies are still alive back. . . up there?"  I wasn't sure if "up there" was directionally correct, but he understood.
     "Yeah.  Living, breathing, and walking."
     I pulled back in confusion. "Wait, back up.  I'm slightly confused, now."
     Scott ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in awkwardly. "Do you remember that black monster that attacked us, the first time we met?"
     I nodded.  Oh, yeah, I definitely remembered that.  I don't think you could forget something like that.
     "Down here, we call them Soul-Suckers.  Up there, people have a more general term for them:  Demons."
     I shifted uncomfortably, not liking where this was going.
     "Sometimes, somehow, they'll manage to escape above ground.  Then they'll do exactly what their name says."
     "Hold on, you mean they'll suck out a person's soul?" I asked incredulously.
     Scott nodded grimly. "It's like they have these invisible claws, and they reach into your body, and pull out your soul.  Immediately, your soul comes here.  Now, a body can only survive so long without a soul, so the Soul-Suckers will--" he paused, searching for the right word. "To put it delicately, they will inhabit the empty body."
     I let that sink in. "So, there's a bunch of demon-possessed people, just walking around up there?"  I immediately began thinking of all the really mean people I'd ever encountered:  That angry, old man at the grocery store. . . the little hellion that lived next door. . . my Math teacher.  I shuddered at the thought.
     "Yeah, but they're actually pretty good at hiding it," responded Scott.
     "So, what happens when that body they're in, dies?" I queried, hoping he wouldn't confirm my suspicion.
     He just shrugged.  "They move on to someone else."
     Unfortunately, that was exactly what I had figured.
     "So, when you see someone down here with yellow eyes, it means they were yanked from their body and tossed down here, while their body is walking around, hosting a Soul-Sucker," he added, leaning back against the wall.
     Another shiver rippled through me, and I drew my blanket tighter.  Suddenly, I thought of the people I had seen earlier.  The ones with normal eyes.  "But wait, what about--"
     "They're not souls," Scott interrupted, studying my face. "They're actual people, souls still intact.  And when I say "actual people", I mean, they are actual people, here in the flesh.  Body, soul, and all."
     I was dumbfounded. "How on earth did they get here?"
     Scott ran his hand through his hair again, this time, clearly agitated. "We can't figure that part out.  We're not sure if they just get sucked down the same time a Soul-Sucker goes up, or what.  But, what's even worse, is we don't know how to get them back up."  He looked down at his hands helplessly.
     I just sat there, unsure of what to say.
     Scott stared at his hands for a few moments, then slowly curled them into fists.  He lifted his head and gazed into my eyes.  "So until we figure out a way, we protect them as best as we can."
     I frowned. "Protect them from what?"
     His eyes darkened. "Just because they aren't above ground, doesn't mean they can't still lose their souls," he replied, his tone sinister.
     I turned away, suddenly not feeling so good.  Then, before I had a chance to stop myself, I threw up beside my bed of grass.  Thankfully, I only heaved once, and it was a miniscule amount, but at the time, I was only thinking how much my stomach hurt and how much I hated throwing up.
     Suddenly, I felt something wrap around my midsection, and a cool hand touch my forehead.  It was Scott.  He was muttering something, but it took me a moment to realize that he was just saying "shit" over, and over again.  Gently, he pulled me away from my mess, and laid me back down on my bed.
     "KathrAnn!" he yelled, his hand still on my forehead.
     A split-second later, the cloth that was covering the doorway was pushed aside, and a short, stout woman, with long, silver hair, holding a small light, quickly rushed over to us.  She had a kind face, and very bright green eyes.  I suddenly hoped she hadn't accidentally stepped in my puke.
     "Hello, dear," she said, giving me a quick smile. "Not feeling so good, huh."  She stroked my forehead lightly, and exchanged a few words with Scott, but I had stopped listening.  I was getting that feeling like I was passing out, again.  Sure enough, the edges of my vision started fading to black.
     Dimly, I saw Scott peering down at me.  His mouth was moving, but I couldn't hear him, anymore.  Against my will, I finally succumbed to the darkness.

~*~*~*~

© B. J. Robertson

Hey, everyone.  Sorry it's taken so long to get something up.  Haven't had a lot of time.  Anyway, enjoy.

Toodle-loo,
Max

Erebus: Chapter 3-Continued

So, we just walked.  And walked.  And walked, until I thought I was going to drop.  And I would have, if Wes hadn't suddenly burst out in excitement.
     We had finally cleared the trees.  When I found the energy to look up, I came face to face with a familiar sight.
     "I have never seen a castle that big," declared Wes, staring across the expansion of marshland at the towering, black-stone castle.
     "Well, nice to see you again," I muttered to the castle.
     Wes turned to look at me. "You've been here before?" he asked incredulously.
    I shrugged. "Yeah, we've met.  Briefly."
     "Let's get a closer look," Wes proposed, starting off towards the castle.  I followed slowly behind, picking my way carefully through the marsh and muck.
     It didn't take Wes long to reach the stone wall surrounding the fortress.  By the time I reached him, he had already found several notches in the stone, and was preparing to climb them.
     "Seriously, Wes?" I said, as I watched my brother scale the wall.
     "Seriously, Thema.  I want to know what's on the other side."
     I rolled my eyes.  Typical ten-year old curiosity. "You know, you're going to run out of footholds," I called, folding my arms as I watched him climb higher.
     He hollered something back that sounded awfully close to,"Like the same way you ran out of brain cells?" but I wasn't sure, so I didn't comment.  Nor did I really care, because, at that moment, I caught sound of a strange, whistling noise, off to the left of me.  It sounded very familiar.  As the sound got louder, I turned to see what was causing it.  And there it was.  The same ominous, black cloud that had come after me last time.  But as it sped closer, I saw something else:  In the center of this cloud, there was a single red dot.  An eye.  A pupil-less, blood red eye.  And it was staring straight at me.
     I was getting an awful feeling of deja vu, at this point. "Westley, get down, now!" I screamed, running back up to the wall.  Wes turned and saw what I was panicking about.
     "What is that?" he yelled, scrambling to climb back down from the wall.
     "No time to explain, now, move it!"  I was literally jumping up and down, now, as if that was going to make my brother move any faster.  Finally, I couldn't stand it. "Westley, just jump!"
     He jumped.  And when he landed, the thud he made was sickening.  Upon impact, Wes yelped loudly and grabbed his ankle.
     "I think it's broken," he whimpered.  I took one look at the monstrous black cloud speeding towards us, and made my decision.
     "I'm sorry about this, Wes."  I pulled my brother to his feet, and together, hand-in-hand, we ran.  I don't think I ever ran as fast as I did, then.  Unfortunately, it wasn't fast enough.
     Then came the horrifying moment when Wes stumbled, and we hit the ground, hard.  We were right on the edge of the trees, but it's not like they would have saved us, anyway.  The smoke creature began to pick up speed when it saw we were down.  It seemed to be eyeing my brother, now, instead of me.  And that pissed me off.
     Without realizing it, I jumped to my feet, and took a stand in front of Wes.  My hand, the one that had the weird design carved into it, began to burn with such intensity, that it brought tears to my eyes.
     Now, I had always thought, that if I'd been given special powers, and there was some monster racing towards me, that I'd say something cool, like Gandolf in The Lord of the Rings:  You shall not pass!!!, or, you know, something epic along those lines.
     Instead, all I said was, "I'm so dead."
    Then, I raised my burning hand, and all hell broke loose.
     There was a sudden flash of intense light, so bright, I had to turn my head away.  I caught a glimpse of Wes's face, shining with awe, before the blazed suddenly grew even brighter, blotting out everything with a brilliant glow.  Then, came the sound.  It pierced the air with such severity, everything seemed to shake.  It was the monster.  The retched thing was screaming a blood-curdling scream.
     And an instant later, there was nothing.  No sound, no light, just. . . nothing.  For a moment, I figured I must actually be dead.  But soon, light crept back into my surroundings.  Things began to take shape.  And a small voice could be heard, saying my name.
     "Thema?  Thema, please wake up.  Thema!"  It was Wes.  His worried face suddenly shifted into my focus.
     "What just happened?" I asked, still in a daze.
     "You shot it!" Wes exclaimed boisterously.
     I realized I was on the ground, so I sat up quickly. "What do you mean, I shot it?"
     Wes looked like he was about to explode from excitement. "You shot it with a bolt of light!  It came out of your hand, and when it hit, that black thing disintegrated!  Poof, and it was gone.  Like that!" he proclaimed with a satisfactory snap of his fingers.
     I swallowed, and turned over my hand to look at it.  Startlingly, the lines etched in my palm were no longer cuts, but scars.  They looked as if they had been there for years, instead just a few days.  The steady, thrumming pulse in my hand that used to be painful, now felt soothing, especially compared to the burning I had felt, only a few minutes earlier.
     "Could this get any weirder?" I asked myself.  The answer was yes, yes it could.  And it did.

~*~*~*~

© B. J. Robertson

Erebus: Chapter 3-Re-Edited

     I slept great.  Dreamland was completely empty.  Except for one little thing.  The lights.  No, not the hospital lights, but, strange, little yellow glows, like fireflies, flitting to and fro in my mind.  Literally.  They were actually flitting around, like a bunch of bugs in my brain.  Eventually, they started to get on my nerves.
     So, although I really didn't want to, I forced my eyelids open.
     And immediately wished I hadn't.
     Turns out, I hadn't stayed in my bed, like I'd wanted to.  I was in a small clearing, lying in the dirt, surrounded by towering trees with leaves so dark green, they could've easily been mistaken for black.  I groaned and rolled over, hoping it was all a dream, that I wasn't where I thought I was, and then jerked back in surprise.
     Westley was sprawled out next to me.  His eyes flitted back and forth beneath his eyelids, and he was breathing rapidly.
     "Oh, crap," I groaned again.  This could not be happening.  It was bad enough I was here, again, but to be here with my kid-brother?  Major suckage.
     Okay, I thought to myself.  What are you gonna do, eh Thema?  The last time you were here, a monster came after you.  It would probably best to get up, and try and find a safe place to hide.
     Sounded good to me.
     "Wes, wake up," I whispered, prodding his arm.
     No response.
     I frowned. "Come on, Wes.  We need to get out of here," I urged, shaking him harder.
     All I got was a mumble.
     "Westley Gray, get your sorry butt up, now!" I hollered loudly into his ear.
     That got his attention. . . maybe a little too much.  He jerked up, banging his head with mine.
     "Thema, what the crap?" he howled, rubbing his head.
     "Watch it, Stupid!" I growled back, massaging my own temple.  That was going to leave a bruise.
     Wes fell silent.  He had finally caught sight of the fact that we were no longer safe and cozy in my hospital room.  Had the circumstances been of a lighter tone, I would have found his expression comical.  But this was no time to be laughing.
     "W-where are we?" he finally stuttered, his face a portrait of awe and fear.
     Unfortunately, I had no answer.  "I don't know," I answered, shaking my head.
     "Is this where you went, when you went through the mirror?" he queried, turning to look at me.
     I gave him the Well-What-Do-You-Think look.  Suddenly, I felt something tickling my hand.  I looked down and saw a black moth.  Of course, it wasn't a normal black moth.  You know what I'm talking about:  The kind that is basically just a shadow, with the tawny eyes.  Immediately, I thought of Grace, guilt suddenly weighing heavily on my shoulders.
     The moth sat still for a moment, then fluttered up, landing gently on the front of my. . . Oh, you got to be kidding me!  I was still in a hospital gown!  "Thanks for pointing that out," I said sarcastically to the moth.  It gave its wings a little flutter.
     I forgot Wes was still sitting next to me, so you can see how he startled me when he exclaimed,"Whoa, that is one, black, moth."
     I rolled my eyes.  Leave it to Wes to be Captain Obvious.  The moth sat on my chest for a few more seconds, then decided it had had enough of me and my brother.  In a flurry of movement, it was flitting away through the trees.  I had the sudden urge to follow it, but I didn't.  Who knows where we would end up.  Turns out, we probably would have been better off, had we followed the moth, but I'll get to that in a bit.
     Wes and I sat in the dirt, staring after the black bug, the only other life form we had met so far, flying away, leaving us to ourselves, again.  After the moth had disappeared into the trees, it was Wes who decided we had better get moving.
     I glanced at him in surprise.  He seemed to have gotten over the initial shock of waking up in a forest, and was ready take on whatever the place threw his way.  Good.  That meant at least one of us was confident about our situation.  I, on the other hand, was still thinking about Mr. One-Eyed Smoke Monster, coming back to get us.  I guess Wes was thinking about the same thing.
     "Come on, Thema.  I don't feel like sticking around to see if that thing that attacked you last time, is still waiting around to try again."
     He had a good point, so I followed him as he led the way into the dark trees.

     Maybe I should mention a little something about the sky.  See, it was daytime, but there wasn't exactly a sun, up there.  Actually, there wasn't anything in the sky.  No clouds, nothing.  And the sky wasn't blue, either.  Instead, it was more of a bleached out yellow.  The light, if you could really call it that, seemed to be coming from across the entire expansion of the sky, instead of one little point, like from the sun; the so-called "light" wasn't even that bright.  It reminded me of a cloudy day, when the sky is just completely grey, and the light seems to be coming from all over the sky, and it's a just a dull light, you know?  Only, instead of grey sky and light, it was all light yellow.  Make sense?  That's about the best way I can explain it, so that will have to work.
     Wes and I walked endlessly, it seemed.  We didn't make any turns, or anything, but I seriously doubt that we would have been able to make our way back to where we started.  One tree looked like another tree, one rock looked like another rock.  But, I can't really say that we were "lost," because we never really knew where we were, in the first place.

~*~*~*~

© B. J. Robertson

Erebus: Chapter 2-Ending

     When I was sure all traces of mud and blood were gone, I wrapped up in a towel, and stepped out of the shower.
     The mirror had fogged over, so I wiped with the palm of my hand.  I hadn't seen my reflection up close since the morning of the accident.  My face was very pale, and there were dark circles beneath my eyes.  I was thinner, too.  My short, dark brown hair stuck up in random places all over my head.  I pushed my bangs out of my eyes, then grabbed another towel and ruffled it over my hair.  When I stopped, I looked like Einstein.  I giggled once.  And then, again.  Soon, I couldn't stop.  I figured the laughing was that of the hysterical kind, signaling the beginning of a mental breakdown.
     Just then, something flashed in the mirror.  I froze, mouth hanging halfway open.  Gingerly, I wiped at the mirror, again, with the towel, clearing the returning fog.  At once, I jerked back with a yelp.
Someone was staring back at me.  But it wasn't me.
     At the moment, there was a knock on the door.  I whirled, my hand jumping to cover my mouth, and almost fell backwards into the bathtub.
     "Thema, it's me.  Hurry up, there's a nurse coming."
     I flicked my eyes back to the mirror.  The only face I saw was mine.  Heart pounding, I opened the door.  Wes handed me a crisp new nightgown, which I slipped quickly over my head.
     Somehow, I managed to fling myself into bed, get my IV hooked back up, and compose a normal expression on my face before my nurse walked in.
     "How are we feeling, today?" she asked, smiling.
     Wes was sitting in a chair, reading a magazine, sipping a new cup of coffee calmly.  He pointedly ignored the nurse.
     "Fine," I lied.  My gaze flitted around the room.  Miraculously, the mirror and and the floor had been completely wiped clean.  There was no blood, no dirt, and no more spilled coffee.  The room was spotless.
     "Uh, oh, what happened here?" the nurse said suddenly, coming towards the bed.  She wasn't looking at me.  Behind her, I saw Wes's head shoot up.  My heart began to pound irregularly.
     Up until that point, I had completely forgotten about my hand.  And the fact that it was no longer wrapped.
     She gently touched my palm. "Did you take the wrap off?" she queried, eyeing me.
     I didn't know what to say.  Luckily, Wes cut in.
     "It was wrapped too tightly.  Earlier, a nurse came in an took it off.  Said it needed air to heal."  He shot me a quick look.
     The nurse seemed satisfied.  She quickly forgot about my hand, and instead began fussing over how skinny I was, and how I needed to eat more.  Luckily, she didn't seem to notice my wet hair.
     When Miss Nosy finally finally left, supposedly to find me more food, Wes and I sighed simultaneously in relief.  Then, he frowned, wrinkling his nose.
     "What?" I asked, combing my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it down.
     He sighed. "It's been awhile since I've lied to anybody," he said with a shake of his head.  His dirt-brown hair had gotten shaggy, so that it brushed against his dark eyelashes whenever he moved.
     "Well, it was a good lie," I offered.
     His frown deepened.
     Miss-Nosy-Pants came back abruptly, carrying a tray of food.  I hadn't realized how hungry I was, until the scent of eggs, bacon, and toast wafted through the air.
     My stomach growled loudly at the smell.  As soon as she set the tray down, I was scarfing down the food as if I hadn't eaten anything in days.  It sure felt that way.
     She left, after awhile, taking an empty tray with her.
     I leaned back against my pillows, suddenly very tired.  Wes could tell.
     "Get some sleep," he said, tossing down the magazine he had been pretending to read.
     I looked up at him worriedly.  He seemed to read my mind, because he put a hand lightly on my shoulder, instantly making me feel like I was the ten-year old, and he was the sixteen-year old.
     "Don't worry.  I'll keep watch."
     I nodded, pulling my blanket up to my chin.  I worked to relax my body, and at some point in the process, I drifted off to sleep.  Somewhere in between, I hoped silently that I wouldn't wake up somewhere else.
     That was purely wishful thinking.

~*~*~*~

© B. J. Robertson

Chapter 3 coming soon!

Toodle-loo,
Max

Erebus: Chapter 2-Continued

     Wes sighed impatiently. "You're not," he declared defiantly.  "Because if you are, than so am I.  And I refuse to be crazy."
     The tone of his voice made me look up.  When I did, Wes flashed me one of his rare grins.  I smiled weakly back.  At that instant, I thought of something that made me straighten up, suddenly.
     "Wes," I began carefully, alarm unexpectedly blooming in my chest. "Where's Connor?"
     Wes's grin vanished immediately.  He looked down at his shoes, fidgeting with the edge of his rumpled T-shirt. "There's something I didn't tell you."  He shifted uneasily.
     I almost couldn't believe my ears.  I was off the bed in seconds, spilling the coffee onto the floor.  I grabbed Wes's shoulders tightly, and stared into his chocolate brown eyes. "What are you talking about?" I demanded.
     He refused to look at me.  At that moment, he looked like a little, ten-year old boy.  I shook him roughly. "Tell me, Westley!"
     "He's gone!" he blurted out finally.  And for the first time since he was a little boy who could barely walk, and fell down often, tears sprung up in Wes's eyes.
     I felt the air whoosh out of me as if I had been punched.  My heart pounded in my ears. "What do you mean?" I asked, swallowing hard.
     Wes pulled away from me and looked down at the floor.  His voice was shaky when he eventually spoke.
"Just before you came shooting through the mirror, Connor was standing by your bedside.  He was facing the mirror, a weird expression on his face.  When you came through, there was a flash of light.  Through it, I saw Connor--" he broke off, wiping one eye with the back of his hand.
     "Saw Connor what?" I pressed.
     Wes looked up at me, fear shining through his wide, ten-year old eyes. "He got sucked into the mirror just as you came out of it."  His bottom lip quivered slightly, making him look even more like a child.
     Connor had become a big brother to Wes, over the years.  Whenever I made Wes angry, he'd run to Connor.  Connor was, in some ways, more of Wes's best friend than mine.  I could understand why Wes was on the verge of tears.  He was scared for Connor.  So was I.
     I let go of Wes and backed away until my legs hit the bed.  I collapsed onto it.  The blood on my gown had somewhat dried, making it stiff as I sluggishly curled into the fetal position.
     "I have to get out of here, Wes," I mumbled suddenly, staring at the wall behind him.
     "What about Mom and Dad?" he queried.
     I pulled my knees tighter against my chest. "I just mean, I need to get out of this hospital," I clarified.
     "What you need to do," said Wes, "is get out of that bloody mess of a hospital gown, and get yourself cleaned up before anyone sees you like this, and dies of a heart attack."
     I sat up, feeling cold.  I nodded slowly, then got up off of the bed.  That seemed enough for Wes.
     "Okay, you go take a shower, quickly," he added. "And I'll take care of these," he said, gathering up my blood-stained bedding.
     "Where are you going to find more blankets and pillows?" I inquired, becoming increasingly worried that someone might come in.  I had begun to rifle through the small bedside table drawer, looking for another hospital gown.
     "It's a hospital.  I'll find everything you need in one of the storage rooms down the hall.  Including a fresh hospital gown," he said, putting a hand on my arm, stopping me.  I focused on his chocolate eyes.  He was all business, now.  All traces of the previous, ten-year old childishness had disappeared from his face.  He was back to being normal, know-it-all Westley.  And to be honest, I was glad, because at that point, I needed someone to lean on.  Who better than Wes?
     "Get in the shower.  I'll be back, soon."  He was gone seconds later.
     I did as he said, and jumped in the shower.  I scrubbed and scrubbed, trying to get as much of the blood off me as possible.  It seemed like ages before the water that poured into the drain turned clear again.  The entire time, my hand ached.  Somehow, when I was on the other side of Mirror World, my bandage hand come off, leaving the deep cuts completely exposed to dirt and germs.  I scrubbed at them until they bled, in order to get the dirt out, so they wouldn't get infected.  That was the last thing I needed, at the moment.

~*~*~*~

© B. J. Robertson

     I thought I might as well try and get one more posting in before bedtime, so, here you go, guys.  Enjoy.

Toodle-loo,
Max

Erebus: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

     I stared into the mirror in shock.  Blood was dripping from the bottom of the gown, dotting the ground beneath my feet, which were both covered in dirt.  I couldn't stop staring at my reflection.
     "Thema," whispered a shaky voice.  I tore my eyes away from the mirror.  Wes was standing next to my bedside, clutching a styrofoam cup and a bloody blanket .  My bloody blanket.  My bed was caked with dirt and blood, and my IV was hanging down the side, attached to nothing.
     I had never seen Wes look so frightened and unsure.  "Wes," I began, reaching towards him.  I thought he was going to run, but after a moment's hesitation, he set down the cup he had been gripping and shuffled from the bedside to take my hand.
     "You came out of the mirror," he stated, his voice shaking.
     What?  I quickly glanced down at him, but he was staring at the mirror.  Before I could say anything, he said, "Correction.  You were flung out of the mirror."
     Part of me wanted to tell him he was crazy, that he was a liar, but neither of those accusations were true.  Not only was my brother was far from crazy, but Wes never lied.  I could remember countless times when he could've faked innocence after doing something to make me mad.  But he never had.
     There was no way he was lying, now.
     Almost in a daze, I wondered up to the mirror.  Dirt and blood smeared the edges, as if I had rubbed against them on my way out.  Gingerly, I touched a finger to the surface.  Solid.  I turned and looked Wes straight in the eye.
     "Tell me exactly what happened," I commanded.
     Without hesitation, Westley launched into his description."I went down to the cafeteria to get some coffee.  When I left, you were just beginning to nod off.  I was gone only about 2 minutes, but when I came back, you had vanished.  Your IV was still hanging there, but no you.  I was about to press the call button on the wall, when suddenly, I heard a noise like the cracking of a window.  I turned just in time to see you come flying, head-first, through the mirror.
     When you hit the bed, you looked like you were dead.  I mean, you were soaked in blood, so I naturally assumed you were hurt.  When I touched you, though, you started thrashing.  You punched me in the mouth," he declared suddenly, sounding accusatory.
     I frowned, subsequently noticing his bloody lip.
     He scowled up at me, then continued. "I yelled at you to wake up, whereupon you launched yourself into the corner, and began hollering about some guy named Scott."  He articulated the name with a wrinkle of his nose.
     I sighed heavily.  "Wes," I began, "You're not going to believe me, but. . ."  I preceded to recount the accident to him, trying to include everything I could remember.  He remained passive throughout most of the account, only flinching slightly when I described Grace's death.
     When I finally finished, I found myself hunched over on my crimson-spattered bed.  My throat was dry from talking.  
     Wes silently picked up the styrofoam cup he had been clutching earlier, and handed it to me.  It was coffee, no sugar or creamer added (ew), but it was warm, and the wetness soothed my arid throat.
     I curled my bloodstained fingers around the drink, and stared into it's black depths.  "You think I'm crazy, don't you?" I asked, my voice cracking.  Of course he does, my mind insisted.  Because you are crazy.
     "No."
     I looked up at him, my eyes suddenly tearing up.
     He shrugged. "After what I just saw," he paused, gesturing to the mirror, "the last thing I think you are is crazy."
     I lowered my head, again, and whispered, "But what if I am?"

~*~*~*~

© B. J. Robertson

     I figured you guys were impatient for Chapter 2, so here's the beginning.  Again, a reminder that THIS IS ALL PART OF THE FIRST DRAFT!  I know there are a lot of typos, and some things will be changed in the second draft.  But, until then, enjoy, and try to resist the urge to strangle me for my typos and long-winded descriptions.  They will be gone, come draft No. two.

Toodle-loo,

Max

OFFICIAL TITLE DECIDED!

     Alright, so you know how I was debating on changing the title for Just Like Clockwork?  Well, I picked one out:
     Erebus.
     Reason?  

     The word erebus is defined as:
1. the darkness under the earth, imagined either as the abode of sin-ners after death or of all the dead

     Also defined as:
1. the god of darkness, son of Chaos and brother of Night
2. the darkness below the earth, thought to be the abode of the dead or the region they pass through on their way to Hades

     Now, here's a little bit of background on the word Erebus:

Erebus, in Greek religion and mythology, was the personification of darkness.
In Greek mythology, Erebus  or Erebos("deep blackness/darkness or shadow") was the son of a primordial god, Chaos, and represented the personification of darkness and shadow, which filled in all the corners and crannies of the world. He wasthe offspring of Chaos alone.

     So, there you go.  That probably was a little too much information.  There are hints in there about what's to come, but that's all I'm saying.  Oh, but chapter two is on it's way!

Toodle-loo!
Max
P.S. Erebus is only book one of the series.  More information on that coming soon!

Erebus: Ending of Chapter 1

     "Well, start talking," I ordered.  And I believe he would have obeyed, if it hadn't been for Goth Girl.  Well, I guess, technically, it wasn't her fault.
     Scott was just about to start explaining, when suddenly, Miss-Inch-Thick-Eye-Liner started screaming.  I swear, she could've broken glass, it was ear-shattering.
     Scott immediately tensed into a fighting mode.  It didn't take either of us long to find out what caused Goth Girl to freak.  When I saw it, my blood turned to ice.
     Barreling towards us was a large black cloud.  With eyes.  Blood red, pupil-less eyes.  All that was visible for a mouth was two, glistening white fangs.  Sound familiar?  Well, I think it recognized me, too, because it bellowed loudly when it caught sight of me.
     "Thema, run!" shouted Scott, grabbing my arm to pull me away.  But I couldn't.  I was frozen in terror.  Scott cursed in some language I didn't know, then took a fighting stance at my side.  Goth Girl suddenly appeared on my right.
     "Okay, Grace, go for the eyes!" Scott ordered.  Goth Girl, or Grace, suddenly shifted.  One moment, she was standing next to me, decked out in her neon green, fishnet stockings and black combat boots (complete with matching, neon, fishnet arm-warmers); her black mini-skirt, and purple and black-striped tank top, with her short, black hair sticking up in every direction, and a fierce expression plastered on her white face.  The next, she was a pure black bird, hovering agitatedly near my shoulder.  Her yellow eyes blazed, then she made a beeline for the monster's head.
     I had to admit, the girl had good aim.  First strike, she took out one of the brute's eyes.  Literally.  It bounced, then rolled across the ground, coming to rest at my feet.
     I nearly threw up, especially when Scott stomped on it, yelling,"Good hit, Grace!"
     However, things went bad from there.  The monster jerked, and Grace was sent flying into a tree.  She hit with a sickening thud, and as she slid down, she shifted back into her human form.  Scott howled in anger, then charged at the creature, not even bothering to shift into anything.  For an idle moment, just before Scott leapt impossibly high into the air, and onto the black beast's head, I wondered what kind of animal Scott usually shifted into.
     "Thema!”  Scott’s deep voice broke into my thoughts.  I caught sight of him, hanging on the monster’s. . . head, or whatever it was. (What exactly he was holding on to, I don’t know.)  The smoky brute was tossing Scott around like a rag doll.
     “Go help Grace!" he hollered, trying to stay on top of the thing while he stabbed at it's other eye with a silver-handled knife that he had manifested out of nowhere.
     Finding I could move, I turned quickly and raced to the Goth's side.
     "Grace?"
     She didn't move.  Blood was oozing down the side of her face, and from her nose, results of being smashed into a tree, face-first.  Or, beak-first, I guess.
     "Grace, come on.  We gotta get you outta here."  I started to wrap my arms around her to pull her up, but stopped.  Something hot and sticky covered her back.  I pulled back my hands.  They were soaked in blood, but it was so dark.  Frantic, I pulled Grace away from the tree to look.
     Sticking out of her back was a large, black claw.  It was curved, but as if she had been caught in an upward strike.  The skin around it was black, and the wound oozed a black, sticky substance, that mixed with the blood.
     Suddenly, Grace jerked back, hard, gasping loudly.  Her eyes flared, then started turning black.  She began to convulse, and blood leaked from her mouth.  Then, to my complete horror, the claw, black and bloody, was suddenly protruding gruesomely from her chest, as if someone had given it a jarring push.  Blood spurted out as the claw came through, spraying the front of my hospital gown.  I screamed loudly.  At the same time, Grace let out a strangled shriek.  It was quickly cut off, however, for she began to choke, coughing up small fountains of blood.  Just as suddenly, she slumped over sideways, falling completely still, and silent.
     Panicking, I reached out to her, some insane part of me thinking she could still be alive.  But before I could even touch her, her body began to disappear.  And then it was gone, in a puff of black smoke.  There was a sudden feeling of emptiness inside me, like all the heat had been taken from me.
     I couldn't breath.  I fell backwards, and scrambled away, as fast as I could, trying to make my lungs work.  I sat in the dirt, unable to stop the scene I had just witnessed, from playing in my head, over and over.
     Suddenly, I became vaguely aware of someone calling my name.
     "Thema!”  The voice sounded far off.  I felt myself being jerked up by my arms.  Whoever it was, wasn't being very gentle.  Suddenly, I felt myself flying backwards through the air.  Something scraped my stomach and sides, then I was dropped down on something soft, that whoofed out air when I hit it.  Images were swirling in my head; Grace, the black demon claw suddenly pushing through her chest, Scott, stabbing at the head of the monster, with his silver-handled knife. . .
     Oh no, I thought suddenly.  Scott.  Is he okay?  Where is he?  Scott!  SCOTT!
     “Thema, wake up!”  Somebody shook me roughly.  My eyes snapped open, and I reeled away wildly.
     “Scott!  Where’s Scott?” I began repeating frantically, trying to focus on something.  I was dizzy, and pressed up against something cold and hard.  A wall.
     My vision sharpened, and things popped into focus far too quickly.  The first thing I realized, was that I was back in the hospital, pressed into a corner.  Then, I caught sight of my reflection.
     I was standing in front of a mirror, still in my hospital gown.  And it was completely soaked in blood.

~*~*~*~

End of Chapter 1

© B. J. Robertson

Erebus: Chapter 1 Continued-3

     Then, for the first time since Stupid-head decided to jostle the life outta me, I glanced at my surroundings.  Naturally, I was shocked to see a very familiar setting.  A swamp.  I was in a freaking swamp.  Again.
     And then, like the idiot I am, I decided to voice this, out loud.  "Haven't I been here before?"  Dumb.  Like Stupid would know the answer.
     "Wait, you've been here before?"  Scott asked, looking troubled.  My point exactly.  Hadn't I just asked myself that?
     "I don't know.  I think so. . . Oh, maybe not."  Just then, something whizzed by my ear.  Freaking, I swatted at whatever it was.  The thing buzzed angrily, then zoomed over to Scott.  My jaw dropped when I saw what it was.
     It was a pure black dragonfly.  Like a shadow.  Literally.  I couldn't see any details, like where it's wings connected to its body, or anything.  And it was impossible to see through its wings, like you normally should be able to.  And the creepiest part was--you guessed it--it had yellow eyes.  Dull yellow, like Scott's.
     But, hold on, I haven't even gotten to the best part, yet.  One minute, Mr. Angry-Bug is buzzing furiously by Scott's shoulder, seemingly glaring at me, and the next, a Goth-looking girl is standing there, arms crossed, next to Scott, really glaring at me.
     I stumbled back with a yelp of surprise.
     She raised a slim finger, and shook it at me, as if I were a child. "Never swat at me again, Shorty, or you will regret it," she spat venomously.  But then, just like that, the look on her face shifted to one of recognition. "Hey, I remember you," she exclaimed. "I saw you over by Wayland Hold, a couple days ago!"  Then, she turned to Scott. "This is the chick I was telling you about!"  Her gaze flickered to me, then back to Scott. "The one with the blue eyes," she whispered excitedly, but not very quietly.
     "What's the matter with my blue eyes?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips.
     Scott flashed me another apologetic look. "Well. . . They're blue."  He then pointed to his own eyes.
     "Thank you very much, Captain Obvious.  My turn.  Your eyes are yellow.  Point?"
     Goth Girl, next to him, practically bouncing off the ground, piped up.  "Your eyes are blue.  Means you're alive.  Our's are yellow."  She widened her eyes, apparently proving her point.
     "So then. . . You guys are dead?"
     Scott quickly waved a hand dismissively. "Not exactly.  You see. . . We--ah--er. . . Um. . ."  He stopped, slapping a hand to his forehead.  "This is gonna take awhile," he muttered, shaking his head.

~*~*~*~

© B. J. Robertson

     Hey, sorry, guys, really short post, I know.  But I have some work to do outside (mowing the lawn...ew) so, this was all I could work up, at the moment.  But don't worry.  There will be more soon.  Peace out.

P.S. If you're just joining us, please go back and read the beginning.  You'll have to start at the bottom posts, and go up, if that makes sense.  Enjoy!

Erebus: Chapter 1 Continued-2

     I glared at him. "Shove off, brat," I growled, but I didn't mean it.  Wes knew that.  Wes always knew everything.

     Day passed into night, and gradually, I began to relax.  The only pain I felt was the burn of my palm.  It throbbed methodically, with every pump of my heart.  It wasn't long before I became accustomed to it.  Slowly, I began to drift off.
     I hadn't thought about what might happen if I fell asleep.  Too bad.

     I was sleeping peacefully, when suddenly, somebody began to shake me.  Hard.  Now, if there is one thing you should never do, it's wake me up violently.  If you do, be prepared for a violent response.
     So, anyway, this very stupid and unlucky person, aside from just about rattling my teeth out, then began to holler.  Loudly.  Another mistake.
     "Alright, come on, now!  Rise and shine!  Get up!  Let's get a move on."  It was a male's voice, and for a moment it almost sounded like Connor.
     "Come on!”  With that emphasis, the person pushed me from my comfortable side position, to a full face splat into. . . was that dirt?
     I rolled over quickly, my eyes snapping open.  At first, all I saw was hazy green and black.
     “Well, it’s about time.” somebody sighed impatiently.  Immediately, my eyes went to the source of the voice.  The speaker was a tall, blonde-haired guy, wearing a plain black T-shirt and dark blue jeans.  But that wasn’t what caught my attention.  No, what caught my attention was his eyes.  They were yellow.
     He was leaning against a pole, hardly a foot away, not really looking at me.  He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, and one leg leisurely tossed across the other at the ankle.  He wore a smug look on his face, as if waking up innocent girls by shaking them so hard, it would give a baby Shaken-Baby Syndrome, was something he did everyday, and enjoyed doing.
     I was steaming mad.  Snarling, I scrambled to my feet, ready to nail the idiot where it hurt, when suddenly, he turned to look at me. . . and froze in shock.  His already pale face, blanched, making him look as white as a sheet.  Literally.  His dull, yellow eyes widened as he stared into my eyes.  He had grabbed onto the pole for support, but now, he raised a shaky hand to point at me.
     “What the. . . Who. . . How are you. . . Holy s**t!” was what he ended up going with.
     “What is your problem?” I growled furiously, my foot itching to drop the guy to the ground with one, expertly-placed kick to the nuts.
     “Y-you’re. . . You’re freakin’ alive!  That’s the problem!”
     Stunned, I backed down, because, really, there’s no intelligent way to respond to something like that.  At least, none that I could think of, at the time.
     Now, Blondie took a step towards me.  Automatically, I took a step back.
     “What’s your name, kid?” he asked, taking another step.
Okay, nobody calls me kid, unless they have a death wish.  Narrowing my eyes, I stopped, mid-step backwards, and instead, stomped up to him until we were nose to nose.  Well, more like nose to chest, but whatever.
     I poked a finger into his sternum. “Call me kid one more time, Blondie, and I’ll drop you like a bag of rocks.  You got that?”
     A split-second later, I was pinned to the ground, Blondie mostly on top of me, cutting off my air-supply.
     “How did you get here?” he demanded, staring hard, down at me.
     I struggled to speak, but I couldn’t get enough air.  Weakly, I pushed at his chest, trying to get him off.  No use.  He just pressed down harder.  I felt like a fish out of water.   My face must have started turning a different color, then, because Blondie’s expression changed.
     “Crap, sorry.” he said, pushing himself up into the kneeling position.  All at once, air flooded my lungs, so much that I choked on it.  While I tried to get my breath back, I glared at Blondie.  He looked back at me apologetically.
     After several minutes, my breathing had regulated enough, that I was able to say, “You prick.”
     “I’m sorry,” Blondie mumbled. “It’s just. . . you startled me.”
     “Oh, puh-lease!” I snorted.  Blondie looked down at his hands.
     “Listen, can we just start over?” he asked, getting to his feet.  “I’m Scott,” he said, holding out his hand to me.
     I stared at him for a moment, then, against my better judgment, grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled myself up.  “My name’s Thema,” I said shortly, letting go of his hand immediately, to brush the dirt off of me.  With a jolt, I realized I was still wearing a hospital gown.  Thank goodness it wasn’t the kind that was open in the back, for all to see.
     “Thema?” Scott said, humor coloring his voice.
     I glowered at him.  The smirk left his face instantly.

~*~*~*~

© B. J. Robertson