Prison of the Mind: Part Three

     Red letters swirled in her vision, Alphonse's constant pull on her arm the only thing grounding her. The entire mansion seemed to be trembling, convulsing, the floorboards creaking restlessly as Eliv's agitation grew. Cracks raced up the windows, splintering the glass and causing shards to fall to the carpet. A tremor rolled through the building, a wave defying the laws of logic. He was after them.

     Abigail hardly had time to think before Alphonse yanked her to the left, darting into a dark room and releasing his hold on her arm as he slammed the door shut. Pressing himself against the wood, the Bori tried to catch his breath. He noticed Abigail's questioning glance and smiled, a dodgy look to his expression.

     “Well,” he announced, looking down on her oddly. “Care to tell me the truth now, Miss DuPont?”

     “What do you m-”

     “Oh, I knew you were lying from the beginning. You're no reporter. Anyone could see that. I know what you're really after.”

     Abigail swallowed, unsure of whether to be ashamed of lying or relieved that she no longer had a reason to deceive him. She placed her notebook back in her purse, giving her nervous hands something to do. “Y-You know where he is, then?”

     “I knew I sensed another soul in this house when we entered, and it wasn't Quince's. You're after a survivor. Mind filling me in on the rest?”

     “He's Evan, my brother. He was the one who was so interested in Eliv's past. He came here two months ago to try and coax it out of Thade, but he never returned. I had to lie to you,” she added timidly, “because I didn't think you'd help me when chances of his survival were so few. But he's here, isn't he?”

     “Yes,” Alphonse muttered, eyes flickering to the door, “but there's no telling if he's still sane.”

     “You said you could sense his soul. Do you know where his is?”

     Alphonse looked to the ceiling as he thought for a moment. “It's a bit of a long shot, but I know he's below us, and I have a good hunch as to where.”

     “Which would be?”

     “The cellar.”

     -x-x-x-

     Getting down to the kitchen was easier than Abigail suspected. Upon leaving the room, Alphonse cast a myriad of spells over the two of them, using various rings and amulets he had stuffed away in his pockets. Abigail wasn't sure how they worked, but time seemed to slacken around them, the chaos stilled to slow-motion scene from a film. Things further away from them, such as books tumbling from a bookshelf, seemed to move at a normal pace, strangely enough. It was a curious experience.

     Moments later, Alphonse was pushing aside a door with some difficulty. After failing to shove it open, he muttered “Oh, dash it all,” and took a jeweled necklace from his coat. With a few foreign words, the necklace sparked brightly, making Abigail recoil. The door swung open, a small commotion coming from inside.

     Pocketing the necklace, Alphonse nodded to himself. “Artifacts. Can't live without 'em.”

     The ruckus had come from a variety of objects being pushed away from the front of the door. Alphonse smiled at seeing them. “Someone was trying to block the door. No doubt he's here somewhere.”

     The kitchen was long and dark and musty, moonlight glinting off the unused pots and pans. Abigail frowned at the thought of her brother having to live in such conditions and prayed that he was all right after all this time. The chances were slim, but Evan was cunning. Surely he wasn't in any critical condition.

     “Over here,” Alphonse called, having walked over to the darker end of the kitchen. The Bori was kneeling by a small door, removing the debris used to block the way. When it was cleared, he grasped the brass handle and yanked it. The door opened just enough for the two of them to fit through, with some maneuvering. Alphonse headed down first with Abigail close behind, her heart throbbing in her chest.

     “Hello?” Alphonse called, taking a few steps down the stairs. “Anyone down here?”

     Abigail's ears twitched as she heard the slightest of noises, a quiet scuffling from below. Her bodyguard had heard it as well. He nodded, and they descended cautiously.

     At reaching the bottom, Alphonse lit a match, revealing crates, barrels, and a makeshift bed strewn about the cold floor. Nestled deep in the corner was a figure, so well-hidden that they nearly skimmed over it. Abigail stepped near it, regardless of Alphonse's warning glare. What if it wasn't him? Even if it was, would he recognize her? Her mind told her to stop, but she could see it, see the darkness of his fur, the curl of his ears...

     “Evan?”

     The figure shuffled around at hearing the voice, and with a leap of faith, Abigail threw herself at it, enclosing it in an embrace. Almost immediately, she knew she'd found him. Evan mumbled in exhaustion, his hands brushing against her, trying to identify what was on him. After a moment, he said, “Abby? That can't be you, is it? Not little Abby...”

     “Yes, Evan,” she said, not sure if she was laughing or sobbing. “I've come to rescue you.”

     “But that's my job,” he replied, meaning to be playful but too weak to have any effect.

     Her brother sat up, shaking sleep from his limbs as he processed what was going on. Abigail jumped a bit when he came into the light, seeing that the shadow Aisha had a thick strip of cloth over his eyes. A blindfold.

     “You're so thin,” she observed sadly. “And whatever are you blindfolded for?”

     Evan stretched, running a hand through his grubby fur before slipping off the strip of cloth. He blinked furiously in the firelight as his eyes began to adjust. “You know me,” he said with a small laugh. “Too curious for my own good. The blindfold was the only thing that kept me sane down here, what with Eliv's letters...”

     Her brother trailed off, noticing another person in the room. “And who might you be?”

     “Alphonse Mason,” the Bori replied, wearing a hint of a smirk. “You're a clever one, aren't you? I'm impressed to see you alive, although your condition could be better. We need to get you home.”

     With his jaw hanging in horror, Evan quickly turned back to his sister. “He's not—you weren't engaged while I was gone, were you?”

     Abigail giggled. “No, no, he's my bodyguard. And he's right—we need to get you out of here.”

     It was difficult, but she managed to help him to his feet, bearing most of his weight as she supported him. He was surprisingly light, and as worrisome as that was, she was relieved that she was able to carry him. Alphonse offered his help, but Abigail assured him that she was fine. The trio made their way back up to the kitchen, just squeezing through the cellar door.

     “Keep together,” Alphonse ordered. “I don't have any more fancy tricks up my sleeve, so we're just going to have to make a run for the door and hope we get out all right. Stay close—Eliv could be anywhere.”

     He pushed open the kitchen door, slowly leading them back to the lobby. When they arrived, Abigail's stomach clenched. Everything had gone quiet. The walls were blank, and the lobby appeared as if a beast had already ripped its way through the room, shredding fabric and splintering wood. Deep claw marks were etched into several surfaces, showing just how angry the monster had been while it searched for them. Even though it had failed, it was likely that its rage hadn't faded.

     “Well,” Evan said, ever the optimist, “perhaps old Thade got worn out. We should-”

     The Aisha's voice faltered when high, wheezing laughter filled their ears, resonating through the manor, making the building tremble at the sound. “Evil Dhaet si on rome,” the voice said in a singsong voice. “Ehrets on caespe!”

     As the ghoul's sickening chuckles grew louder, letters washed over the walls in a wave of crimson. Beautiful, horrible, intoxicating letters. Possessing no rhyme or reason, no rhythm or order, and yet capable of so much more. The hypnotic red scrawl was enticing, but Abigail had half a mind to turn away, averting her eyes as soon as she caught sight of them. She began to inch away from the wall and closer to the center of the lobby but was held back.

     “Evan?” she said, tugging on his arm. He had been holding on her hand, but his grip slackened.

     “Lislqu...quills...” Pulling away, her brother walked closer to the wall, his head tilted slightly to the side. “Reobevs...observe...mdroeru...rumored...”

     Frightened, Abigail grasped his arm and tried to tug him away. Evan paid her no heed, as if nothing else existed, murmuring words under his breath as he was drawn to the wall, either by curiosity or some unseen force.

     “Evan! Stop it!” she cried. “Alphonse, help me!”

     The Bori turned and, swallowing his horror, he looked her in the eye. “Abigail,” Alphonse said, his voice steadying and solemn, “don't panic. Just-”

     “Look out!”

     She'd warned him a second too late. The figure of Eliv Thade leapt down from the rafters, a howling ball of teeth and fury. Alphonse staggered back with a shout, trying to peel the undead Kacheek away before he lost an eye. Abigail knew she should act, but there was no possible way she could help him. She turned her attention back to Evan, hoping that her bodyguard wouldn't fail to keep himself in one piece. At least he had the zombie distracted.

     “Evan,” she said, forcing herself to be calm, “can you hear me?”

     No response. Abigail bit her lip, her mind racing. What should she do? What was there that she could do? The thought of Evan crippled with insanity was unbearable. She had to do something.

     “Daclemi... medical... seye... eyes...”

     “Yes,” she breathed. “That's it.” Doing the only thing she could think of, the Aisha raised her arms to cover her brother's eyes, her trembling hands pressed over them. Carefully, she turned him away from the wall, making sure he wouldn't see it if she were to give him back his sight.

     Evan's reaction was slow; at first he seemed confused as to why he could no longer see the letters. For a moment, Abigail worried that his mind had been damaged when he failed to respond further. Seconds later, however, he stiffened, his trance breaking.

     The Aisha touched the back of his sister's hand. “My blindfold. Thank you, Abby. I'll keep my eyes shut till we get out.”

     “But you-”

     “You have my word.”

     Abigail lowered her arms, grabbing Evan's hand and squeezing it before briskly leading him to the manor's entrance. She tried to block out the sounds of the scuffle between Eliv and Alphonse, knowing it would only slow her down. Twisting the doorknob, she pulled with all the strength her small body contained. The heavy door creaked open just enough for them to fit through, a chilly wind slipping through and buffeting them. She guided Evan through first, making sure he was safely outside. Before she exited, the Aisha turned, hanging back for her bodyguard's sake.

     “Alphonse!” she wailed. “Hurry!”

     No reply came except for snarls and yelps, as if a maddened werhond was set loose. It was too dark to see, and the sounds of falling furniture and ripping cloth did nothing to console her.

     Evan's hand closed around her wrist. “Abby, we have to leave!”

     She didn't budge. “I won't leave him.”

     “Staying here won't help anything! He'd want you to leave.”

     “But I-”

     BANG! The whole manor shook with an explosion big enough to take out half of the building, and things could be heard crashing down inside. When the sound was beginning to fade, Abigail worried that she might be deaf. Her concerns were dismissed when she heard something run into the half-opened door.

     The tall figure of Alphonse was slumped on the door, his breathing ragged as he shoved his weight onto the frame. “Go!”

     Abigail slipped through the widening door without hesitation, her pace quickening when she saw that Alphonse was following close behind. He was gripping his arm and walking with a limp, clearly not capable of running very fast. Speed didn't matter, however, as long as they were able to put distance in between themselves and the manor. When they'd managed to climb up the hill nearby, Alphonse said it was safe to stop.

     Abigail watched as Alphonse plopped down on the grass, cursing under his breath. Evan sank down beside him, the recent strain too much for his body to handle without protest. Abigail knelt down by the both of them, her blood still pounding in her ears from the excitement.

     She looked to Alphonse's arm, which he was favoring. His shirt was torn, and he looked like he'd taken a good beating. “Are you all right?”

     “Oh, I'm fine. Right chipper, I am. And do you know why? Since you felt kind enough to leave out crucial information about this visit, you're paying me double.”

     Abigail bit her lip, the wave of shame returning. “I know. I-I'll pay you triple for taking care of Thade like that.”

     “Think nothing of it. That was my job. But I wouldn't mind being graced with a bit of information. I'm curious.” The Bori turned to Evan expectantly. “How'd you manage to survive in there for as long as you did? What kind of idiot would go in unprepared like that?”

     Evan laughed merrily. “My kind of idiot, I suppose. His illusions got to me in the beginning, but a brief minute of sanity allowed me to find the time to make a blindfold. After that, I grew more stable mentally, and I managed to find the kitchen cellar. There were a few edible scraps there, and some stray miamice. Unpleasant, yes, but that's survival. Thade never really bothered me after I lost interest in his game.”

     “And why do you think that was?” Alphonse asked.

     “He either grew bored with me or was too absorbed in what he was doing. I'd see glimpses of him hunched over a book, either reading or scribbling down something or other. He talked to himself constantly, and even though it was in anagrams, I managed to figure out that he spoke of a superior puzzle. Frankly, it was quite sad.”

     “I'm sorry for him,” Abigail whispered, remembering Eliv's pleads.

     Alphonse scowled, shifting his wounded arm. “That thing can burn for all I care. Whatever was left of Eliv's soul vanished when the sedation was lifted, thus the puzzle master is no more. He got his wish, I suppose. All that remains in that manor is an unstable shell of a dead man.”

     Evan sighed. “Coming here in the first place was a waste of time, then.”

     “Hey,” Alphonse piped, “at least you can say you're one of the few who survived. You did it out of cleverness, too, unlike that girl Gilly—I believe it was ignorance that saved her. What was she thinking going in there, of all places? Mindless children...”

     Abigail's fingers wrapped around her purse strap, and she remembered her notebook that still rested inside. “But,” she said, pulling it out, “I was able to get Eliv's story. I got it, Evan.”

     Her brother's face lit up. “You did? That's great! You're going to have to tell me all about it.”

     Abigail nodded. “When we get home, yes. I'm glad you're safe—we were all so worried.”

     “And that story,” Alphonse added. “You'll be looking into getting it published, won't you?”

     “Of course.” She smiled a bit at the thought. Eliv Thade's true story would live on, despite the odds. “But what about you, Alphonse? What do you plan to do next?”

     The Bori grinned. “I have an appointment with a Mr. Winston. Seems like he could use someone of my expertise. But we shouldn't laze about here chatting. This is the Haunted Woods, after all. The sooner we're out the better, and I believe you owe me, Miss DuPont.”

     “Right you are,” Evan said, seeming eager to leave.

     Alphonse took one last look at the crumbling manor before turning away. “I never did get to see the puzzle that thing was crafting. I wanted to see if it truly surpassed all of the others...” he mused regretfully.

     “That?” Evan asked. “I wasn't able to make out most of what Eliv was saying, but it sounded as if he'd already created it.”

     The Bori paused in surprise. “Well, what was it?”

     “That's just it. It had been so long...” Evan smiled ruefully. “He'd forgotten it.”

The End