Games In The Night - Chapter 7

by DarkAlias (Jack D) in the dark side of the moon, rockin out with Pink Floyd

Hi! Sorry about the title! It must have sounded kinda desperate, huh? Well, alomst no body read the last one and onlu two people commented so I really want more people to read this one! And if you follow this, and haven't read the last chapter, please do so, and comment on it! Anyways, I hope you like this chapter! Please comment! I'm begging! And I'd really love some CC! Thanks, guys! Enjoy!

Chapter 7

    I wandered into the thick darkness for quite a while, the only sound being my breathing and the tiny trickle of the damp making its down the grimy walls. Flaming torches lined the walls every few steps, but they didn’t provide much light and most of the time I was reduced to feeling my way along the walls.

    I was beginning to regret my coming down here. What if I got lost in those dark dank tunnels? What if I never found my way out and I was stuck in that trecherous labyrinth for ever and ever and ever... Just as I was beginning to get claustrophobic and was gasping for air, I whispers from up ahead and stopped dead in my tracks. Slowly, I made my way forward, more careful than before, wondering if it was Fern and her cronies up ahead, making their plans to kill me, Edward and my mom.

    Soon a faint light could be seen up ahead. With a spurt of energy, I edged my way forward and peeked into the huge cavern ahead. It was huge, about three times as large as a football stadium, hundreds of Fern’s followers, all chanting her name. Most were dressed in some weird cult uniform, which was made of dark leather and heavy hoods which completely covered their faces. Hundreds of flaming torches hung on the walls, casting a flickering light over the hall. There was a giant platform in the centre of the cavern where Fern stood, her face covered in shadows under the hood she wore, hanging loose over her head. There was one thing I was sure of: her face was twisted into that grin, that manic psychotic grin that I knew would haunt my nightmares forever.

    “Friends,” she began, the crowd suddenly silenced, her voice echoing all around the huge cavernous hall. “We’ve gathered here for one reason: revenge. I’m sure we’ve all wanted our fair share of it, some time or another. We were all exiled into prison for some reason. Mine? Well, let’s just say I got a bit too greedy too fast. But now it’s time to get our revenge on those who we hate. As we march into the house above our heads this very night, think of those who fill your mind with rage, that make your blood boil with fury. Then as we slaughter those above us now, as blood falls upon the carpet imagine that that blood is that of your enemies, that you’ve just killed them for the last time, forever.” As she paused for a second, a murmur of agreement spread through the crowd. Then, Fern continued.

     “When you leave this chamber to get our revenge, I want each of you to feel proud. We’re doing a noble thing, facing our enemies like this. You should hold your heads high, and as the first drop of blood falls, I want to hear our war cry sound out! Sing it with pride!” Then they all began to sing in a great cacophony of pitchy voices and unsure notes. But each and every one of them sang the words with clear voices, so as they sounded in my ears I gasped. The sang:

    “The betraying loves of our hearts burns softly, as I fell down in the sea of sand, my heart still beating and I still feel, love.” It took me a second, but the message came clear. The war cry was describing of how Fern had loved Edward, but he had left her, but even then, though she began to hate him deeply, she still loved him deep down in her heart. Whatever I was thinking at the time, I don’t remember, because I was so shocked, as so sad for Fern, and for the first time in I don’t know how long, I felt almost bad for her...

    But all of that was wiped clean from my head as I saw the tiny little piece of paper protruding from Fern’s pocket. I couldn’t see very well from such a distance and thanks to the faint light coming from the torches I couldn’t see much, but still I knew for sure what it was. It was about two inches by two inches in size, white with glossy black font. Sticking out of Fern’s pocket was Inspector Jenkins business card.

    My head spun with ideas and I suddenly felt sick with worry and fear. Were the two working together? Were in they in cahoots?  Had the seemingly goofy detective been tricking us all along? What was I meant to think? I was just a young boy, caught up in something far bigger than he’d thought.  My heart was racing and I felt clammy and sick, but I ignored all that because I was thinking one thing: My mother was upstairs in the manor, unprotected, where Inspector Jenkins could be lurking around any second.

    I was off like a dart, dashing through the grimy tunnels, not knowing where I was going; my only thought was of my mother’s safety. Thankfully, I was going the right way and I burst out into the hallway that led to the labyrinth below. Without a second’s thought I rapidly shut the door to the maze and hurried away in the direction of the lounge, terrified, scared, and alone...