Confinement Part 35

Announcements: Yay, Part 36! Okay, well, I'm going to be calling this the turning point of the story. It's going to be the base to transition into my next part, which I think I will make after Part 40 of Confinement xx

Question of the Day: Why in the world is Hef going after you? Comment your answers and any thoughts of yours while reading this in the comments back! I love reading all your comments so much, and if you want to be a personal acknowledgement, that's the way to go! :-)

Created by: Dannica

  1. I landed on my own two feet, finding myself standing in the middle of a corn field. The stalks were as tall as me, having a height advantage of possibly a foot. Bright green leaves poked at my body whenever I moved even a centimeter; the small heels on my boots sunk slightly into the dirt. I looked over at Rave, whom appeared to be listening intently for something, and at the same time couldn’t help but notice the sun, which was a little shy from starting to set. It was not raining here, so I assumed we were in a different city. I saw Rave take out an umbrella from his pocket; examining the weather just as I did, he threw it away. “This is a farm,” Rave observed, as if I didn't already figure it out. I awaited for an elaboration from him, but it never came. After another minute of watching him ponder, I said, “Okay, yes, this is a farm, we are in a cornfield good work. Now what? How much time do we have?” Rave ran a hand through his hair. “Did you feel a pull, when we went to that lady’s house? With that guy with the gun?” I thought about, and then shook my head. “I don't remember. Why?” Rave’s look of query remained unchanged. I groaned, the corn stalks shuddering. “Rave, we have to get going! You're not telling me anything, so I’m ready to start panicking, okay? We can get to the house—or barn or whatever—and then you can explain whatever is running through your brain. But first we have to save that little girl.” A few seconds passed, and then he abruptly shook his head out of whatever he was in. “Okay. I guess you're right.”
  2. I took the lead this time—or for the first time, actually. The truth was, I wanted to get this over with as fast as possible. Not only did I need to get back to school, but I also did not want to spend my time here and see what was about to unfold. I knew Rave was right about me needing to learn how to harbor my feelings more, and pretty much suck up all sympathy and sentimentality that I feel whenever I see a False happen, because I knew it would get too much in the way. Yet how could I? Aren’t humans supposed to feel these things? “Wait,” Rave said from behind me. I stopped and turned around. Stocks of maize clouded my vision of his face and body, making it oddly difficult for me to see him. “I don’t feel a pull.” I refrained from rolling my eyes, being that he was indeed my mentor in all of this. “What is it with this pull? Does it come with the Sight or something? Did you feel it that night with the lady?” I saw Rave inch closer, scanning the area while doing so. “I feel like I did. I must have, if I knew where we were going. I must have felt that gut feeling. But I don’t feel it here.” I scratched my head, while a flock of crows fluttered above us. “So? What does that mean, that we’re in the wrong place?” Rave was lost in question once more. “We can’t be in the wrong place…That’s what the False showed me…But I just can’t shake off this feeling, like it’s…wrong.” I took hold of his arm and gently tugged. “We’ll go check it out, and then if the girl isn’t there, or nothing happens, then we’ll go, okay? We’ll figure it out later.” “But I don’t—” “Maybe we’re too far away or something, maybe there isn’t a pull at all—let’s just go, and we’ll see. We honestly have nothing to lose.”
  3. Rave seemed reluctant, but eventually permitted me to pull him through the cornfield. We were quiet the rest of the way, and honestly I didn’t have any idea how I knew where I was going. I didn’t feel a pull at all. It just felt like common sense or something. It was hard to dodge the long and thick stems that crowded around us. Corn husks and blades did a consistent job of hitting me in the face, yet I didn’t slow down. And it was once we egressed from the cornfield did I realize that I wasn’t holding onto his arm anymore, but his hand. “I hope you don’t mind,” Rave murmured, placing himself beside me, staring at the big, ancient-looking, wooden home before us. “I was losing you a little.” I didn’t look at him either; we seemed to both be entranced by this crooked brown house. “I don’t mind.” The crops surrounded the home. There was no road, no path, no route at all, that led to any other place. It was just crops. Corn. I looked out beyond the house, looking for a barn, or some animals, but instituted nothing. Troughs for feeding lined the front of the dwelling, but there was nothing inside them. Finally, I looked over at Rave. “It looks like this farm has been shut down.” Rave nodded slowly, and then unclasped our hands. “People might still be living in the house, though. You think we should check?” I dissected the exterior of the house, my eyes mechanically going to the porch. The wood was cracked everywhere, and oddly there seemed to be rust forming on the stairs that led to the veranda itself. Moss grew all over the foundation and the railings, yet the windows seemed to still be intact and clean. “Maybe we should check out the back, to see if there are cars or something.” Rave nodded. “Agreed.” He pivoted his foot, and then started walking. I followed briskly, and then—for some reason—slipped my hand into his, as he did in the labyrinth we were moments before treading through. He looked back at me, an understanding passing through our eyes. I could tell he could see my nervousness.
  4. My feet crunched under the dead grass, as I now granted Rave to lead me. The house remained still as we curved our way to the back, and nothing seemed out of place, or held any sign of civil inhabitation. Rave stopped once he saw that the rear was vacant. There were no cars, better yet troughs like in the front. The only thing visible was a back door with a lifeless light hanging over it, along with darkened circular windows splayed on either side and on the top, implying a second floor. I squeezed Rave’s hand. “I guess nobody is here.” His other hand lay atop his head in disbelief. “Then why did we end up here?” In a quiet, and most gentle voice I could produce, I said, “Maybe you were wrong.” He shook his head, the grip on my hand loosening. “I can’t be wrong, I know that’s what the False told me.” He bit down on his lip. “Unless…” His eyes focused on me then, first appearing pensive, and then transitioning to something far greater than confusion. “We have a problem,” Rave rustled, with a slender tone of urgency. He scanned the perimeter with sharp eyes, reminding me of a wolf. My nervousness was on the peak of turning into alarm. “Rave, what’s the problem?” His grasp on my hand constricted, and I watched as he closed his eyes for a moment. When nothing happened, I felt him tense with frustration. “Rave?” My voice sounded like a squeak, because at the same time Rave started fast-walking away from the house, and back into the cornfield, every so often looking back behind his shoulder. “Rave, tell me what the hell is going on!” I halted mid-step, compelling him to cease trekking on. Rave’s eyes clouded with something mixed with truculent cognizance and fierce worry, yet his voice remained calm. “Do you trust me?” I nodded without thinking. He continued on. “Then I need you to listen to everything I say, and do everything I tell you to, got it?” My vocalized words were softer than I intended. “What’s happening?” Rave’s fingers hooked into mine. “I can't read your mind. I can't Shimmer. And I don't know why.”
  5. I felt like my oxygen levels were becoming drastically low. What did this mean? Where were we? I tried my best to remain unfazed, knowing the last thing Rave needed was for me to panic. “What do we—” A loud and unpleasant noise rang through my ears, cutting me short from my words. My hand impulsively covered my mouth, just as I was pulled to the ground. “ Don’t move,” Rave whispered. As if I was going to. I didn’t even think I was breathing. We were crouched on the soil, both of us awaiting for any more dinning noises. When none came, I figured it was safe to talk in a hushed whisper. “Was that a gun?” Rave furrowed his brows. “No. It didn’t sound like one. It was too big.” We were not touching anymore, so I linked my arm through his, because I took comfort in contact. Suddenly Rave looked swiveled his head around again, just as I heard rustling coming from an unknown direction. The tall stalks of corn that loomed over us swayed and shook as whatever the thing was was coming our way—and it was coming fast. Rave moved my hand into his again. His eyes showed urgency, and determination. Unlike me, he was good at hiding fear. And just like in my dream, he came close to my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin, as padded footsteps became somewhat audible. Closer. Closer. “Run.”
  6. “How was it?” Flame asked, copying an equation from his math textbook onto his lined paper. Web, whom was slung over on his bed, groaned. “Annoying. People asked a lot of questions, but it was whatever. They knew I got jumped.” Flame seemed to sigh. “I wish it was easier for her.” Web knew the “her” that Flame was referring to, and he agreed. “By the way, you said you would make me apology brownies.” This time it was Flame’s turn to groan. “I’m always the one who makes them. Besides, their isn’t any more—” A knock on the door interrupted. “Get it,” Web said. “No, you get it.” “No, I’m tired.” “Well I’m actually doing something productive.” Another knock. Another banter. Finally, Web got up from his bed. “Fine. Whoever is at the door would much rather be welcomed with my face anyways.” Flame grinned, as Web turned the doorknob. The mechanic/maintenance guy Hawk was there, with a small package in his hands. “This is for Flame.” He handed it over to Web, whom thanked him. After exchanging a few more friendly words, the door closed, and Web tossed the package over to his roommate. “You expecting something?” Web asked, watching as Flame fumbling with the taping of the parcel. Getting it open at last, he retorted, “Yeah. I had to order new glasses.” Flame held up the black specs for Web to see, and then put them on with a sigh of relief. “Now I can actually see the words without squinting.” Web was drenched in confusion. “I didn’t know you wear glasses.” “They’re only reading glasses. I’ve been wearing clear contacts ever since my old glasses got broken in Chicago. I decided to get new ones because it’s easier to read, and, well, I look quite dapper in them.” Web chuckled, but then it faltered. “Hey, I ran into that Tallon kid today in the bathroom.” Flame was suddenly very interested. “Really? I didn’t know you knew him.” Web switched positions, and now sat against his headboard. “Yeah, well, I saw him once. I was sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night to get a snack and he was there. Talking to himself.” Flame arched a brow. “He was in the Lobby? Here?” Web nodded. “Why does that seem like a surprise?” Flame pushed his glasses up higher on his nose—an old habit he was apparently now getting into sync to again. “Because he doesn’t room here. He rooms in Reaper Hall.”
  7. We ran. Hard. I clung onto Rave’s hand for dear mercy as he cutted through the cornfield in a whirl. Leaves and husks stung my face and my neck as I sprinted through, but I didn’t care. Because I knew somebody—or something—was chasing after us. I had no idea where we were going to go, because from what I collected earlier as I was studying the place, all their was was the cornfield itself. There was literally no barren land at all. Do you trust me? Rave’s question bounced off the walls in my head. I did trust him. I trusted him enough to get us to safety. My legs ached and ached, considering that running was never my strongest suit, but I continued running behind, trying to keep up with his pace. Because I knew this wasn’t just a one-person role; I needed to be strong in order for Rave to continue being strong. I guess that’s the moral of the story. Another loud boom caused the both of us to stumble on our own two feet, as the ground underneath us shook and shuddered. Then from my peripherals, I saw between the thick stems of corn blurring black figures, all catching up to us. “Rave!” “I know!” He didn’t need to look back. Just then we veered right, and continued running straight. Loud screeches squawked abaft us, and we accelerated more. I didn’t know how long we’ve been running, because I’m sure my leg muscles were now numb. But soon after, we were faced once more with the house. And this time we didn’t hesitate.
  8. Rave kicked down the door with an exhausted, adrenaline-rushed groan, and we barged in. Dashing up the stairs, we coursed to the first room we saw. Once inside, I slammed the door shut and locked it with shaky fingers. My chest frantically rising up and down, I backed away, and then collapsed into a cluster on the floor. Rave started pacing back and forth, his hands on top of his head. My legs throbbed in anguish, even when I tried switching positions on the ground. “Get up,” Rave uttered. “Walking around will help. You need to cool down.” I did as was told. We paced together, not talking. And as my heart-rate started slowing down, the more relaxed I felt. The room held one lone window—a circular one—with the view of the backyard. The room was all wooden, as like the house, and contained one plain white bed. The bed held no pillows, nor a blanket. Just a white bedsheet. The foundation of the bed was also wooden, blending into the wooden floors and wooden walls. A wooden dresser—this one a darker shade than everything else—was backed up against a wall. A vanity mirror stood atop it, with ornate handles on each drawer. Rave found his way to the window. He looked out with perplexment. I joined his side. The cornfield was now still. There was still little daylight. I was still shaking. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Rave tore his eyes away from the sight to look at me, with an even more perplexing look. “Why?” “Because if I had listened to you we wouldn’t be here. We would have figured it out sooner. I should have been more concerned that you felt something wrong and you didn’t feel that pull you were talking about—” Arms engulfed me. Despite being in a field of corn for who knows how long, Rave still managed to keep that scent of peppermint. “It’s not your fault,” he murmured into my neck. “Even if we found out earlier we still wouldn’t have been able to go anywhere.” He let go, his hands now on my shoulders. “If anything, it’s my fault for taking us here. I honestly have no idea what’s going on. But you did great out there. I knew you were tired, but you kept pushing. I am so proud of you.”
  9. I looked at him with hysteria. “Wow. Thank you.” I hugged him again. It was all a big hug-fest. But I still felt responsible. Once that was all over, the mood in the room returned to staleness. It was like we were two civilians kept hostage. At one point Rave thought about exiting the house once more, but we both finalized that that was the worst move, since all we would be doing was running aimlessly through the cornfield once more. Time passed. We stayed in silence. I was too afraid to sit on the bed for some reason, so I occupied a spot on the floor against the wall. Rave kept pacing. My legs were still on fire. I was tired, but this was no time to allow myself to drift off to sleep. I didn’t need to look out the window to see that it was now night. I had watched a leak of light that had shone through that circular window fade more and more until it was now a shadow. At some point Rave sat down next to me, dunking his head against the wall in exasperation. I didn’t know what to say to him, so I kept quiet. And it was just that. Quiet. That is, until we heard small creaking. My ears were as alert as ever, and so were Rave’s. We didn’t hesitate to thinking that somebody was coming up the stairs. And from my memory, our door is the only one closed on the second floor of this house. Rave had gotten to his feet immediately. Sooner or later he helped me up. It was good that were by the window, because if anything happened and we couldn’t get past the door, that would be our final resort. Rave had scoured the room earlier to see if anything could be useful as a weapon. He came up with nothing. The dressers were empty, and for some odd motive, the vanity mirror couldn’t be broken. Rave had pulled out one of the drawers and threw it at the thick sheet of glass twelve times. I had counted. So now our only defense was our bodies, since Rave’s powers seemed to be disabled. This reality made me feel queasy. And the sudden knocking on the door made me feel queasier. Rave and I stared at the light brown door, ready to pounce at any given time. I had pep-talked myself countless times in my mind to pass the time. I was determined to show that I wasn’t some prissy little futile girl, whom was unable to hold her on. I wanted Rave to stay proud, and become even prouder.
  10. The door started shaking as the knocking became louder. The eerie part about all of it was that there was no voice or sound accompanying the strikes. Rave crossed the room stealthily, and then got cautiously on the ground, to look under the crack of the door. He lay there for three seconds—I also counted—and then got back up, back beside me. He mouthed, human. The shock was enough to almost knock me off my feet. A human was doing this? Then what were those black things I saw in the cornfield? Suddenly I heard splintering of wood, as the door’s hinges got off one by one. Regardless of my little vow I had made earlier, a pang of fright was still there, boiling in the depths of my stomach. A loud thud rang out as the door hit the floor. I was ready to fight. A body emerged into the room. A man. He was short, and stocky. Maybe 5’4. The man looked in his fifties, yet had a crown of shocking platinum hair—almost silver. He continued walking towards us, boots clicking on the wood whenever he took a step, along with the end of his cane he held in his right hand. A ghoulish grin was spread on his face, with teeth seemingly too big for his mouth. Involuntarily, I took a step back. The man doned the tension, and stopped a foot away from Rave and me. His long fur coat barely touched the floor. We awaited his actions. The smiled largened, which was a surprise. It looked like his skin was about to crack and disintegrate. “Hello, young ones.” His voice held a dangerous air to it. It was loud, and sounded like a voice that would get anything it demanded. Rave and I remained lull. The man looked between the two of us. “Where are my manners?” The man bowed low, waving his cane in the air. I saw that on the top was a coiled up snake. He returned to his upright position, the grin never wavering. “Allow me to introduce myself. You may address me as Hef Hankers.” Rave’s expression showed that something clicked. Hef seemed to catch it. “Brother of the fallen Haste.”

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