Fake Fan Fiction ❯ Learning to Love ❯ Death ( Chapter 8 )

Legal Disclaimer - I do not own FAKE. But I do own this story. Haha, can't sue me now, can you?!

 

 

 

 

Author's Note - Yes! I'm updating again! Thanks for all the positive reviews!! I love you everybody!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8 - Death

 

 

 

He put a hand to his forehead, running his fingers restlessly through his hair as he stared out the window at the front of the Dragon's Breath Tavern. Those cool, violet eyes scanned the area surrounding the pub, darting quickly from shadow to shadow as if expecting a sudden attack. He watched as Clyde emerged from the bank and locked the door behind him before marching across the town centre towards the pub. When he stepped in, Clyde had a small layer of snowflakes covering him, making that youthful looking head of brown hair appear almost gray in appearance. His brown eyes searched the room for a brief moment before resting on the agitated man by the window. Clyde made his way over to the booth before sitting down across from the other man.

 

“Still nothin', eh, ol' Berks?” Clyde inquired, looking seriously at the man across from him.

 

Berkley sighed and shook his head. Clyde bit his lip before calling the waitress over to him so he could order a draft. He flattered her silly for five straight minutes before Diana tromped over and hit him over the head with her tray.

 

“Can you not try to get everyone that you see into bed with you?” Diana growled, as the other skimpily clad waitress ran off to go get him a beer.

 

“'Tis not me fault I was born what I am,” Clyde replied, leaning over a bit to see if he could get a good view of the waitress's bottom side.

 

Diana whacked him over the head with her tray again before stomping off to go and continue her job. Clyde turned back to Berkley, who had been ignoring the whole conversation they just shouted across half the town.

 

“You sure you alrigh' there, Berks?” he asked.

 

“About as fine as I can be, seeing as how a member of our community just went missing without a trace,” Berkley replied dryly.

 

“An' you haven't ev'n seen half o' it, Berks. I've had people in n' out all day o'er there at the bank an' you won't belie'e some o' the gossip theys is all speakin' about ol' McLane's disappearin' act,” Clyde answered, taking his mug from the waitress with a cheesy grin.

 

“Like what?” Berkley asked, somewhat curious.

 

“Oh, you know. Remem'er when them attacks was a happenin' years back? Ye'h, it's all that rubbish all ov'r again. Not lettin' the kids out to play, makin' sure there's a curfew fer all the town n' such. An' some o' them ol' superstitious quackers are a puttin' up crosses on e'ery window frame before a goin' out an' killin' their livestock. `Tis all bloody stupid to me; people gettin' spooked o'er ol' tales an' e'erythin',” Clyde said, taking a sip.

 

“I see,” Berkley replied, turning his attention back towards the window.

 

At his silence, Clyde looked down at his hands helplessly, tracing the rim of his tankard with his pointer finger. He let his friend sit in a melancholy pensive before sighing loudly and thumping Berkley hard on the arm to break him from his reverie.

 

“It'll be all righ' now. Ol' McLane is a smart lad, that `e is. `E'll turn up jus' fine,” Clyde assured him, taking a swig of beer.

 

“I just hope he doesn't turn up dead,” Berkley said in a voice just barely above a whisper.

 

“'E won't I tell you! `E'll be all righ'. A'ways has an' a'ways will,” Clyde replied.

 

Berkley's hands slammed down on the oak table harshly, causing Clyde to drop his mug to the floor where it shattered into a million glistening shards of glass and alcohol. Casting a weary, frightened glance upward, Clyde was shocked to see the volume of emotion in those normally cool lavender eyes; were those tears making his eyes shimmer like that in the dim light?

 

“He needs help. If he hasn't returned by now then there is something definitely wrong. We are his only chance!” The last sentence was shouted.

 

By now the whole pub was looking and listening intently to their conversation. Diana stood frozen in the corner, tray over her shoulder packed with empty tankards; the bartender was letting a glass overflow onto the floor from the keg on the wall, while a group of farmers stopped midstream in an intense game of poker.

 

“I almost lost him once…I am not going to let him get hurt ever again!”

 

With that said, Berkley stormed out of the pub, leaving the rest of the confused and bewildered town behind him.

 

 

 

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The full moon hung high in the indigo sky amongst the many twinkling masses of stars and constellations. Its light illuminated the land below, falling upon the large castle and casting it in an eerie bluish glow. In the highest tower on the highest terrace there stood a man gazing at the moon above. His skin was luminous in the moonlight as he stared into the sky.

 

“The full moon has returned for a second night. How is this possible?” Dee thought to himself.

 

He touched his hand, where Ryo's had been only hours before, absentmindedly. Dee looked down at his hands; those long nails appeared so frightening. And yet…Ryo had touched them with warmth and love, whispering those words that had made something within him stir: “I'll do whatever it takes…”

 

When he spoke those words it was as if…

 

“Impossible,” Dee said aloud. “Why would he feel such things for someone such as myself?”

 

Time passed and Dee could not even begin to fathom the answer. He turned back to the moon, wondering why its presence graced the night sky for a second time. Dee's brow furrowed in thought at he pondered this. Suddenly, emerald eyes narrowed in understanding: Arnon.

 

And Dee's figure then vanished from the terrace in one mighty sweep of his dark cloak.

 

 

pdpdpdpdp

 

 

Ryo was reading a book in his chambers, curled up before the fire with an afghan around his shoulders and Tsuki lying on his lap. He had returned to his room shortly after spending the afternoon with Dee. They hadn't said much after that embrace. Ryo flushed just thinking about it. What on earth had come over him to just jump all over Dee like that?

 

Trying to concentrate on his novel Robin Hood was quite hard, seeing as how Ryo could not think about anything but the dark-haired, green-eyed man that seemed to make him feel so…giddy inside. Ryo groaned and buried his face into his book. He was getting just as bad as all the village girls that would giggle madly as he passed. Perhaps they fantasized about him the same way as Ryo was thinking about Dee? Ryo hit himself repeatedly on his head with the book, startling Tsuki out of her slumber.

 

“No, no, no! I can't like Dee! He's a guy!” Ryo scolded himself out loud, earning a curious look from the wolf on his lap.

 

He leaned back, resting against the edge of the bed and gazed into the flames. There was no way that Dee would like him like that. The only person who liked him like that was Berkley Rose. It was quite disturbing to Ryo that Berkley fancied him, seeing as they grew up together and Berkley more or less was like a brother to him more than anything. But there was that one time when Berkley was a bit more of an older brother to him.

 

Ryo remembered that day quite clearly. It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday. He and Berkley were walking home from church together in their Sunday clothes, swinging their Bibles back and forth in their book belts as they skipped along the path to their houses that were just over the hill and up the road a ways. They were in the middle of the meadow when suddenly Berkley stopped.

 

“I really like you,” he had said, looking into Ryo's eyes.

 

“I really like you too,” Ryo had said, not knowing the full extent of his words.

 

Berkley had then moved closer to him, drawing Ryo into his arms; his Bible fell to the ground. Ryo could remember smelling shoe shining polish and pine when Berkley had pulled him close. When he had looked into Berkley's violet eyes, he was shocked at the intensity of emotion pouring out of them. It was a lot more different than the way he would look at anyone else.

 

Berkley had leaned forward and kissed him swiftly on the lips, leaving Ryo's own tingling and tasting like mints. Ryo had touched a hand to his lips, looking at Berkley imploringly when they parted.

 

“Don't tell anyone about that,” he had said. “My uncle would beat me.”

 

“Okay,” Ryo had said; he didn't understand it anyways.

 

They had started to walk through the woods—it was a fast shortcut.

 

“But I really do like you,” Berkley had commented softly.

 

“Okay,” Ryo replied, not really comprehending the conversation.

 

Berkley was older than him by three or four years. Ryo had always looked up to him as the brother that he had never had. And Berkley had always looked out for Ryo. When he got picked on at school, when he got hurt or sick, when he had a problem, Berkley was always there. When Ryo thought about it, Berkley was very nice, but he didn't think of him like that. Personally, Ryo thought that Berkley and Diana, a waitress at a local pub in town, would be the perfect couple, but all they seemed to do was tease each other in a friendly kind of way.

 

Ryo sighed and set his book down, knowing that he would never be able to concentrate after thinking thoughts like that. His gaze turned towards the window where his eyes landed upon the full moon. Ryo's brow furrowed.

 

“Another full moon?” Ryo thought to himself. “How odd.”

 

Tsuki began to growl from her spot on his lap, her golden eyes flickering dangerously at the door; Ryo followed her stare. The fire crackled and the light that lit the room suddenly became a lot lower than before. Ryo watched as the doorknob's brassy surface shimmered and glistened in the scarce light, while the jewels and stones twinkled majestically from within the metal. Tsuki's was up on her feet now, arching her back and flashing her long teeth in a menacing sort of way. It was silent for a moment, before the fire in the hearth disappeared, shrouding the room in darkness that was only lit by the rays of moonlight that shone through the windows on the far side of the room.

 

Ryo could hear Tsuki growling and he could feel her fur standing on end; she was standing before him in a very protective stance. There was a click and the door opened a crack. Ryo began to shiver as Tsuki laid her ears down against her head and cautiously made her way to the door to check for danger. In the dark, Ryo watched as she neared it, but then suddenly swayed and sat down. Tsuki then laid down right there on the ground and remained silent; the door opened up a bit more.

 

Walking towards Tsuki, Ryo could hear her even breaths, telling him that she had fallen asleep right there. He looked at the door and then towards Tsuki again; his eyes landed upon a mirror on the wall halfway there. Ryo's eyes widened and he blanched. There, where his own reflection should be, there was another face: the face of a man with sallow skin and milky white eyes. Ryo gasped as the man—Arnon—reached forward a hand, his fingers passing through the barrier of the mirror world and the real one. He began to pull himself out of the mirror, smiling morbidly as he did so, a murderous glint in his eerily blue eyes; Ryo tore out of the room.

 

He ran down the corridor, tearing down a flight of stairs and then running down another long, dark hallway. Ryo stopped and hid behind a large suit of armor, breathing heavily and raggedly. When his breathing resumed to normal, Ryo decided that it was definitely time to go and find Dee, or anyone else in the house that could help him. Ryo stepped out from behind the large, armor man and into the hallway. He looked up and down the corridor before heading back the way he came.

 

At the end of the hall, he found himself in a darkened foyer that he did not recognize. Ryo felt his heart in his throat; he was lost and running from a psycho phantom that wanted to do something horrible to him. And there wasn't a glimmer of help in sight. Oh, joy.

 

He tried going up the stairs again, but found that he was in a labyrinth of stairs and halls, desperately wandering around. Ryo leaned against a wall and slid down to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest. At that moment, he felt alone and very afraid. For the first time in his life he was wishing that he could be home.

 

All throughout his young life, he wanted to go somewhere else, experience something new. He always felt bored and restless in the small town of Bellwicket, where everything was the same, everyday. And everyone knew everyone and everyone else's business. Now, he wished that he was at home. Surrounded by people he knew would definitely ease his troubled mind a little. But he was somewhere unfamiliar and he was alone. And still very afraid.

 

Then suddenly, a warm feeling spread through his body, like the caress of ocean water on a summer day. Looking up, Ryo searched the hall, hoping to find the source of the feeling. There, at the end of the corridor was a glow of something. Mesmerized, Ryo walked down the hallway, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the floating entity. When he reached his destination, Ryo stared at the red, glowing object that hovered right before his eyes.

 

“A rose petal?” Ryo thought, reaching out to touch it.

 

The petal was warm and it sent a tingling sensation through his hand. Ryo put the petal in his shirt pocket and looked around once more. Another rose petal hovered a few feet in front of him. And another in front of that. And another in front of the one in front of that. And so on and so on, all the way through the confusing maze of the Laskody Manor.

 

Ryo followed the petals, picking them and putting in his pockets whenever he came across one. He felt warm and somewhat sleepy by the time he reached a large pair of double doors. The right door opened slightly; a gust of wind and a few snowflakes fluttered inside. Ryo walked out into the cool night, not seeming to feel the ice beneath his bare feet. It was snowing a little bit and the full moon made the surrounding landscape look different—more eerie—than it normally was.

 

More petals were laid out before him and Ryo found himself standing in the middle of a garden. There were bare bushes, trees, and thorny vines covering the place. The only spot that remained free of dead plant life was a green bench that sat before an aged fountain filled with algae and small insects. The last petal was resting on the seat and Ryo sat down.

 

“Humans are such simple creatures, aren't they?”

 

Ryo looked over his shoulder and saw Arnon, dressed in a white cloak with a mink collar and fringe. The full moon shining down on his clothing reflected on his pale hair and face, making him look like a beautiful, fallen angel amongst a grove of hellish thorns and vines. But those eyes. Those eyes were not the eyes of an angel. There was such malice, such hate. But that voice…Ryo's brow furrowed. Arnon sounded almost reminiscent.

 

The spirit walked gracefully through the garden, his feet not making a sound nor a footprint on the ground below. Arnon stood before Ryo, a look of cool detachment settled across his face. Ryo felt afraid again. He knew that he should be running, screaming, anything. But he couldn't. It was as if…as if something were making sure that he couldn't. Arnon smiled cruelly.

 

“You can't move, can you?” Arnon asked, his grin widening at Ryo's discomfort.

 

A long-stemmed rose appeared in his left hand. Arnon studied it closely for a moment.

 

“Humans are like roses, are they not?” Arnon inquired, looking intently at Ryo.

 

When Ryo remained silent, Arnon continued on in his monologue.

 

“Yes, yes, indeed. Humans are like roses. So beautiful, and yet, so hazardous, don't you agree?”

 

Arnon proved his point by pricking his finger with a thorn. Ryo watched as a pinprick of blood came from the wound; Arnon brought his injured thumb to his mouth and sucked on it for a moment before continuing.

 

“And both are so very fragile,” Arnon explained, “as if you could just crush them.”

 

Arnon closed his hand over the flower, crushing the rose with his fist. Ryo watched as the crumbled petals fluttered to the ground, followed by the mangled stem and leaves. The phantom studied the remains of the rose with an amused, sadistic smile on his face.

 

“However, roses, unlike humans, can be reborn from just a small, little fragment of their original selves,” Arnon said, choosing a petal and showing it to Ryo.

 

Ryo watched as the small petal started to shimmer and move as if it were in fast-forward motion. He watched as the petal turned into a small stem, then into a larger one with leaves, then into a longer stem with a swelling bud on the end. The bud then expanded, fanning itself out into another perfectly shaped red rose.

 

“Yes, life can continue on after death. The tricky part of the whole matter is finding a way to achieve this task,” Arnon explained, vanishing the rose with a small pop.

 

He walked before Ryo, pacing back and forth like a lion does to intimidate its prey.

 

“Did you know it took almost 200 years for the human race to find that if a flower dies, it can be reborn from its very own seeds? Very primitive the lot of you are; even more primitive when it comes to tending a garden. Just look how this place has become!” Arnon said, a fire flashing in his eyes as he looked around the dying garden.

 

Ryo couldn't really tell what this had to do with him, but kept his mouth shut and allowed Arnon to continue on in his little speech.

 

“Yes, yes. Humans are quite stupid. It is such a wonderful thing that I am not,” Arnon stated, while crossing his arms across his chest.

 

“You're not human?” Ryo couldn't help but ask.

 

“Oh, don't insult me. I could never be a human,” Arnon spat distastefully at Ryo.

 

Arnon paced a bit more, looking up at the moon every so often, his eyes glittering with something that reminded Ryo of a child that knows a secret you do not.

 

“The time has almost come,” Arnon whispered to himself; Ryo heard it however.

 

“The time for what? What does any of this have to do with me?” Ryo asked, his body feeling heavy while his head felt extremely light.

 

“Oh, it has everything to do with you,” Arnon said with a wicked smile.

 

“Enlighten me,” Ryo replied.

 

“Humans are even dumber than I thought,” Arnon commented nastily, looking at the sky again.

 

“I didn't ask you for your opinion of the human race! I asked you what it has to do with me!” Ryo ground out; his eyelashes were fluttering as his lids grew heavy and he felt he could do with a lovely nap right about there if the situation wasn't so serious.

 

“A long time ago, as I'm sure Mother,”—Arnon spat her name as if it were a curse—“has come to tell you, I lived with Dee here, at this manor. We lived peacefully for a long time, before outside forces began to interfere with our lives.”

 

Ryo listened quietly, hoping that Arnon would get to the point so he could leave and go to sleep.

 

“One lovely day, we went into town. It was planned to be our last time at Bellwicket. We would live together forever without the hateful curses and rude gestures that the townsfolk threw at us as we walked past. If only we knew…if only I knew…” Arnon trailed off.

 

Ryo felt something pull at his heart. Arnon sounded almost…sad. Like…like he didn't want it to happen. Like he and Dee…were really…in love.

 

“That traitor!” Arnon's calm voice broke into a vicious growl. “He let me die! He watched as I burned there! That bastard! That bastard!”

 

Arnon looked like he was going to cry; his eyes were shining with tears and his face was contorted into a look of sheer agony and misery. To live years after death and to have suffered that weight that Arnon carried on his shoulders…it really wasn't right.

 

“He didn't let you die. He tried to save you,” Ryo began gently.

 

“Don't you tell me that! He knew it was going to happen! He was probably watching there in the crowd as they slowly killed me!” Arnon was choking on his words now, each syllable coated with spite and anger.

 

“He loved you!” Ryo said.

 

“No he didn't! He wanted me to suffer! He wanted me to feel pain!” Arnon argued, looming over Ryo menacingly.

 

“Dee would never do such a thing!” Ryo insisted, his body growing numb with each passing second.

 

“Yes, he would,” Arnon said, grabbing Ryo around the throat with a large, cold hand.

 

“Wha! Leggo!” Ryo cried as his airway started to close beneath Arnon's steely grip.

 

“You wanted to know what you have to do with all of this?” Arnon was up in his face now, glaring at him sadistically.

 

Ryo knew that the way they were positioned right then would allow Ryo to feel Arnon's breath on his cheek. But he did not. Arnon wasn't breathing. He wasn't breathing because he was dead. But why, why could he hold on to Ryo? Why was he trying to strangle him to death? Unless…

 

“Twenty-four years ago was when I died. Twenty-four. How old were you then?” Arnon inquired softly, releasing his grip on Ryo's throat a bit so he could reply.

 

“Three…or four…” Ryo wheezed, thankful for a small breath of air.

 

“Yes, indeed you were. The day I died, that very same day, you were wasting away beneath the heat of a high fever in a small hut on the outskirts of town. You were dying, just as I was dying,” Arnon said, the tight grip returning to Ryo's slender neck.

 

Ryo's vision was starting to tilt upwards; he could feel that no air was filling his lungs. Ryo tried to fight Arnon off of him, but his arms felt like two heavy logs. He tried to kick, to flail, to do anything that might save his life. But he could do nothing. Ryo could not struggle at all. And Arnon was going to kill him.

 

“And in that moment, right as I cursed Dee, I damned myself into the eternal limbo between this World and the Next. I would forever be in this wretched place, never to live again, and never to die. But there was something that I could do: to save a life could save my soul from the never-ending Hell that I would have to endure for the rest of eternity,” Arnon explained, smiling as a tear leaked out of the corner of Ryo's right eye.

 

“Therefore, in order to save myself, I decided to save your pathetic excuse of existence. However it came with a price. A bit of me was left behind with you—my soul merged with your own—and that one part of me would be with you for the rest of your life. When you would die, I could move on.

 

“However, like a rose, I can be reborn. By using your body, I can live again!” Arnon had a mad glimmer in his eye as he pressed harder down on Ryo's throat.

 

Tears trickled down Ryo's cheeks. Just because he had been the unfortunate soul that Arnon tried to save, his life would be taken from him. It wasn't fair. He wished he could say goodbye to his friends. He wished he could say thank you to Dee. But his vision was turning grey and his organs were shutting down; his heart was barely beating…

 

“Now it's time for you to pay the price of immortality. Carry the Chains of Agony and Grief along with you into the World between the Worlds and suffer as I have!” Arnon smiled cruelly and laughed a cold, high pitched laugh.

 

Ryo couldn't breathe. The world was fading and spinning into a darkened abyss. He could hear the sounds of screaming, of people whispering in his ears of the tortures of their existence. Of rape, murder, abuse. It was horrible. It was Hell, Ryo was sure. He felt himself falling. Falling…down…down…down…it was dark and cold. He could hear someone laughing. He felt numb. Ryo knew that he was dying.

 

 

And the last thing he thought was one thing:

 

“Dee…”

 

 

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After Talk with the Random Queen:

 

Okay, sorry about the really, really long delay. I've finally gotten a break from all the schoolwork and exams are just around the corner. Hopefully during the summer I'll be able to write more than I do now. I really hope so. Anyways, this story is almost done I think. I'd like to end it in the next five chapters. But knowing me it will be at least ten. But you will know the end before next year. This will be completed before 2006, I promise!

 

 

About the Characters………………………