_____This goes into the war story now, I guess.

_____“Sorry kid, this is as far as I’ll take ya. I’ll be the first to admit I don’t believe in spooks, but—that Orphan House gives me the creeps, kay?”
_____I thanked the driver and gave him the money cab drivers needed. I was told he wouldn’t need all of it, so I asked for my change. He agreed and let me out. I started for the Home immediately, and a harsh shriek hollered behind me. When I looked behind me, the yellow vehicle had already fled and disappeared. I didn’t blame him, though. Tonight, the Home seemed . . . sterner this night, as though it wanted to be alone or to scare others away.
_____I walked through the open gates.
_____They dashed shut with a clang.
_____Remembering why I was here, I wiped the perspiration that dewed on my forehead and continued forward. The front yard was a mazework of hedges and bushes cut to look like figures, monsters, and other ominous shapes, divided in two by a long white strip of cement. The maze hadn’t been there before.
_____“You wanna play with Us?”
_____The voice was behind a really big bear to my right. Something was swooping for my neck. I tried to duck and roll aside, but the ball still smacked me hard in the head. I fell to the grassy floor, a bell in my ears and a fire sizzling and burning against my cheek. I twisted to my feet and faced Gamor. The others were behind him, approaching with evil sneers. I retreated carefully, wanting to look behind me but afraid Gamor would hit me again.
_____“Game over, little girl.” His grin looked bestial as the circle of children stepped closer, dribbling their balls with hypnotic precision.
_____I tightened my eyes and opened my lips with my teeth tight together. I could feel the heat burning in my skin, and they started smoldering when I fisted my hands at my sides. “I don’t think so,” I replied austerely. “It’s only begun.”
_____Gamor’s next response was to hurl his ball at me again. I flinched and struck out, a streak of fiery light trailing my hand. The repercussion of my knuckles striking the ball sent me flying back on my knees. I wrung my aching wrist; my fingers and back of my hand were red and raw and sore. All the boys were staring. There was no sign of the basketball except for the scent of charred leather and curling wisps of smoke slowly disappearing. For a moment, Gamor’s face was a sheet of shock—all their faces bore witness to their shock. And then their faces transformed completely into a wheat field of insane anger, led by Gamor.
_____“Now,” Gamor howled like a lynx, “KILL HER!”
_____They all threw their balls as one, centered on me. I struck one away with my elbow and lashing aside another with a twirling kick. But the other balls came too quickly, striking me in the shoulder and knee, knocking me to the ground. Both ached and burned abominably, as though I had been hot with a hot poker sitting in a fire. I wiped my mouth and my forearm came away bloody.
_____The balls bounced back to the children, who approached several steps, bouncing . . . dribbling. When I climbed to my feet, my injured leg shook, and I was afraid it wouldn’t sustain me. But I held my breath and rubbed it, and I was able to dive out of the way of the second volley and into an aisle of the plant maze.
_____“You can’t hide forever!” Gamor’s voice—repeated by all of the children—echoed and projected eerily. “You might as well give up!”
_____For a while, I was afraid to agree. There were several times he almost caught me at a corner, or by a stand of cut trees, or next to a statue. At least, I think it was Gamor. He came at me from all angles, coming closer and closer to finding me as I snuck through the maze.
_____But then my thoughts scattered when something behind me caught me around the mouth and the tummy and yanked me backward.

Whoa. Why did you go there in the first place Clarity?

So what happened after you got grabbed and your mouth covered. Obviously you escaped otherwise you wouldn't be posting here. But Please I would love to know what happened in the interim.

Ok....?

Sorry. It was my “turn” to post, as Clarity put it, but I’ve been kind of . . . occupied, lately.

“Shhh,” I whispered to Clarity’s ear, her frame quivering in my arms and her scent surprisingly reassuring despite her fear. “It’s just me.”

Clarity felt my cheek and turned around. I tapped my lips in a motion to be quiet, tilting my head as an indication we were still surrounded, and they were still close, and on the verge of discovering the two-way street my senses proffered. Bringing my lips to her ear, I told her to describe the scenery to me as we crawled away, Morse code style.

The walls of the maze rose between us as we crawled along, the taunts dropping all around us like ash from a fire. Clarity steered me away from the rose thorns, and I steered her away from the searching . . . creatures. She claimed they looked like boys, but not to my senses. They were more like slimed eels with tentacles, searching . . . groping for our souls. It was more than an effort than usual to shove the anger and frustration in the back of my mind, but I did it. I crawled on hands and knees with Clarity grasping my ankles, her forefingers guiding my progress by tapping the scenery around me. We were getting close to safety, though there had been more close calls than I dared to count. If we could just make it to the other corner, we’d be all right. Ron would be on the other side of the grounds if all was going well. Of course, if all was going well, we’d all be home safe right now.

My heart began tripping on stilts as a loathsome, alien finger of consciousness brushed against mine. Instantly, their attention turned toward us. Their voices whooped through the air in excitement and crashed through the bramble and foliage. Having no more need of my senses, I warned Clarity about our predicament. She smoothly rushed to her feet, grabbing me around the waist and half-dragging, half-shouldering me through the edge of the grounds. The yelling truncated the fragile patience I had built, so necessary to get us through the maze undetected.

Now, utterly useless.

With our discovery, my frustrations only waxed all the higher. I could sense them, clearly glowing darts in the fabric of my mind, approaching rapidly.

It was time to stop that.

Lassoing the anger and resentment deluging through my being, I cut off a portion and pent up the rest, cradling and molding the negative emotions into a spear of mental energy.

When one approached before the rest, my body seized as though in a fit, but I held it in by stiffening my limbs and straightening to my full height. Clarity screamed something; I could sense the creature in motion.

I hurled the mental spear with enough force behind it, the foul thing didn’t even have time to swear before it disintegrated with a loud pop, the ball rolling harmlessly away.

“You got Gamor, Miss Eilonwy!” Clarity thought she congratulated me, though I shook my head and grabbed her wrist, holding her stationary.

“No,” I peeled my lips back in a snarl. “I didn’t. And don’t move, please. They’ll attack if you do.”

The creatures that looked like boys to the sighted snickered and tittered, unfazed by their comrade’s disappearance. I ignored them, gritting my teeth and resting my right cheek several inches above my collarbone, shaking my hair free of my face and letting my eyelessness pierce the fiends.

Not that I could intimidate them, though.

Yet.

Yikes.

o.0
wow...

that is impressive...

how did you all get out of there after that first one "popped"?

“Miss Eilonwy, they all look like Gamor!” Clarity shivered, nearly breaking my grip.

“I know,” I whispered a reply, craning my neck and slowly shuffling around, changing my direction. This time, my voice was for the creatures to hear. “Guess what, little Gamor,” I teased.

“Miss Eilonwy?” The girl tugged at my arm. “Are you all right?”

“I know your little seeeecret,” I crooned, mentally and emotionally distancing myself from Clarity. I needed this anger. I wanted this anger. Here. Tonight. Now. As a precursor for when I would . . . but I couldn’t finish even that thought yet. I needed to focus.

“Spread out,” Gamor’s voice bleated with fear, sounding to my left. “Confuse her. Surround her.” This time, the voice of Gamor came from the right, and was suffused with expletives and threatening promises I don’t care to elaborate on. They surrounded as ordered; Clarity had such a grip on my arm my maternal instinct surfaced for an iota to pat her shoulder.

They were in place, surrounding us and welling toward us, seconds from tearing us apart. I could sense the tenseness in their synced muscles, the anger and hatred spreading everywhere like a heavy tarp weighed at each corner; sweat greased my skin, small cries of fear parted from Clarity’s lips; layers of abhorrence banded about my bones and ligaments, but the vast majority of it was cemented together with everything I had, awaiting my command.

Clarity was rocking back and forth beside, she had released my arm and surrounded my shoulders with her hands protectively. She was planning something . . .

“NO!”

My forearm clapped against her chest; she almost broke it in her fervor to protect me. My left hand shot out, palm slamming against one of the Gamor’s. My attack launched a splintered second along theirs. Their biting and scratching commenced, lanced against our skin.

But I sent my anger-laden energy bombarding in another direction to strike at the real him, the one many ranks behind the others, the one not leading the charge but leading the battle.

“How—” was all the time he had to object before he discorporated; the rest of the creatures followed suit, popping like all the suds on a bubble wrap sheet being punctured at once. But it was the dregs of Gamor that remained, waving over us in a silent explosion. We were frozen in burning, searing agony for many moments. My anger and courage drained for the moment, it took me another minute to dredge up the nerve to interact with the stuff layering our skin—though greasing would be a better term, considering the sweat and lines of blood drawn all about us.

I touched my cheek and put the tips of my fingers to my mouth.

“Salt.”

Clarity was shivering violently next to me. Having a conniption of panic or going into shock. “Come on,” my weariness dragged my arm around her crusted shoulders, holding her to me, as much my guide now as my crutch. I owed her so much, but I couldn’t afford to lose my edge to soppy feelings just yet.

“Let’s find Ron and get Ashby and get out of here.”

Sits on the edge of his seat awaiting the next installment.

Dayum this is intense.

_____So that’s what happened to Ashby . . . did he really tell you that he loved me, Mr. Ron, like you said? Why didn’t you post that? Though you told me after, and I’m telling it now, so it’s all okay . . . maybe I better tell the rest of the story now, huh?


_____The wind blew hard against us, leaving wispy trails of the white stuff at our backs and weighing our panting breaths in our faces. I nearly fell several times, but Eilonwy was always there to help me back up. My chest was aching and I thought about just holding my breath to make it stop, but kept on going anyway.
_____“Can you see him?” Miss Eilonwy asked, pushing me hard toward the ground. The first time she did that, I sat down, but she insisted we keep on going. I guess both of us were really tired, and not just me. I apologized when I accidentally pushed her to the ground. “Can you see Ron, Clarity?” she said instead.
_____“No, Miss—wait, I think that’s him. He’s coming out of that door in the ground—I think it’s called a stormcellar.”
_____“Wie!” Mr. Ron rushed over and hugged Miss Eilonwy to his chest like he would never let go. They started talking quietly, and then a little louder. Mr. Ron wanted Eilonwy to stay with him, and Eilonwy replied she was not a cripple. Instead of talking even louder, Mr. Ron hugged her even tighter. “Are you okay, Mr. Ron?” I asked, since he was looking at me with strange eyes . . . flat eyes. “Did you find Ashby?” He looked at Eilonwy, but her forehead was pressed against his chest, her mouth straight and unsmiling. He looked at me again.
_____“I did. But he didn’t make it. I’m sorry.” If I had known then what I knew now, I think I would have asked, “But he attacked you first. Why? He was a good guy.” instead of nodding and saying, “I’m sure you tried your best, sir. Thank you.”
_____But I think the tears still would have come.
_____Ashby was my friend. He was kind to me.
_____Ron “harrumphed” and said we needed to get going, and Eilonwy reminded us there were still children in the House—real children. I squeezed Eilonwy’s hand and Ron went into the door first, holding a big looking gun thing in both fists. He pulled his goggles over his eyes as we entered the door, though I don’t know why. The shadows weren’t all that dark. But it was colder than normal the last few times I had visited. My skin tingled, and our breaths showed smoke. The house creaked mournfully, and Eilonwy hissed, drawing our attention to the grand staircase that started in the middle of the room and lifted up to lead to the next floor. A tall figure stood at the top, looking pale and tragic next to the dark wood around her. Even with her back to us, I knew her well.
_____“Hi, Mrs. Gossamer,” I mumbled, shifting my feet a little.
_____“You had your chance,” she sneered, not looking at us, or even acknowledging us at all. But her voice sounded wrong . . . mean and awful and evil. “So as you have chosen . . . so you shall reap!”
_____I wasn’t sure who she was talking to, though I saw the figure cowering behind her. I pointed and was about to say something, but Mr. Ron was already moving, advancing to the bottom of the stairs.
_____“I see them, get Wie to safety. You too, Clarity!” he ordered, drawing up his gun and pulling the trigger.
_____There was a sound like a large gong, and strange, wavy patterns grew out of a circle where he had struck. Mrs. Gossamer turned, her face ugly and white, as cold as the house around us. “You can’t stop me,” she growled in a tone that hurt my ears. “Do not even try.”
_____Mr. Ron was going to try anyway, though. And so was I. This helped Mrs. Gossamer get even angrier at us. She waved her arm at us and said something strange, and suddenly Mr. Ron and Eilonwy and I were tumbling back against the wall. Mr. Ron struck the door first, groans and dark sounds coming when his armor scraped against it. Eilonwy fell into him, and I against her.
_____For a while, things were a little confusing. Mr. Ron tried to get to Mrs. Gossamer in any way he could, but each time, she stopped him roughly by throwing him around without touching him, or by throwing something big at him. His guns that looked like toys weren’t working, and he couldn’t get close enough to take out his sword. He was getting kind of scary looking, and his armor was looking beat up. It was getting difficult to keep things from hitting Eilonwy. I tried to angle us closer to Mr. Ron; maybe we could help him somehow.
_____“Wie, are the children bound in any way? Can you sense anything holding them?”
_____“Besides fear? No,” Eilonwy replied.
_____“You’ll need a distraction to get them out, then.” Mr. Ron said quietly to himself, shifting us aside and taking the brunt of several white statues on his back. His face was tight and grim, his eyes thin with anger and looking from me to Eilonwy to Mrs. Gossamer. “When I go after her, I want at least you to get out. Help as many of the kids and get out of here alive and safe, you understand me? Leave here as soon as she’s distracted, you got that?”
_____Statues of heads and shoulders were still flying across the room, back and forth. The chill wind was grabbing our clothes and hair. Mrs. Gossamer was hesitating—looking behind her at the shivering children.
_____“Yes, sir.” I replied, cowed. I’m not sure what the exact signal was going to be, but it would probably be something different. “I’ll do my best.”
_____“Good,” he snarled, his face almost as terrifying as Mrs. Gossamer’s, calculating and thoughtful and determined. He carefully pulled out a big sword off his back, twisting the handle once. “First make sure Wie is safe. When I give the signal, you get out with her.”
_____“What are you going to do?” Eilonwy asked, her voice strained.
_____”Just follow Clarity’s lead,” he didn’t answer her question. “I’ll follow you guys with the kids when Gossamer’s dead.”
_____Mr. Ron was watching Mrs. Gossamer intently. And she was watching us, her eyes straying back to the boy nearest her.
_____“Ron, you can’t get past the shield,” Eilonwy said.
_____And then I had an idea.
_____“But maybe I can,” I said, standing up. Mrs. Gossamer instantly stared at me, her eyes crimson.
_____P.S. Sorry, I’ll have to finish it later. Tommy is calling for a meeting.
_____P.S. Again, fast. Eilonwy, it was when you told him you knew his secret. You looked scary and not at all nice like you really are.

Ron Caliburn wrote:I don't like putting other people's personal communications on public display Clarity.

A good policy. Perhaps you should talk to someone about what "needs" saying and what doesn't, Clarity?

_____I couldn’t think of a title, and Biggie and I were talking about amnesia when Tommy called the meeting, and I thought it sounded good. I’ll tell you why.


_____“Come on, Mr. Ron!” I said, ducking one vase and dodging another. Get out your sword!”
_____“Clarity, what are you—” he tried to say, but he was stopped by a big cabinet. And actually, I didn’t actually have a plan. I had forgotten my idea too, which couldn’t be right; it was also bad. In a time of stress like this, Ethan would have said, “Not good.”
_____As I started running up the stairs, all the flying things stopped around me, instead veering toward Mr. Ron and Eilonwy. Mr. Ron hacked at them and kept anything from hitting Eilonwy, though several small things hit him; and he was looking at me with a strange expression on his face.
_____“Come to me, child,” Mrs. Gossamer smiled those kind of smiles that I didn’t like. “Feed me.”
_____I stopped at the top of the stairs, a heavy curtain landing on top of me . . . I think it was whatever kept Mr. Ron’s guns from hitting her. I suddenly felt flush and warm, and the heat seemed to raise the curtain a little. Her smile looked forced and strained, and the curtain energy thing was getting heavier, and the heat was making me dizzy. I was feeling tired and my bones felt spread out, like butter over too much bread. Blackness was spreading across my vision, but I shook my head and tried to straighten up. A pounding began broiling in my ears, and all I could see was Mrs. Gossamer.
_____She looked haggard and impatient and exasperated, kind of like Tommy when Reggie dropped the keys to the car and he was trying to reach them but couldn’t. I could feel her reaching for something she couldn’t quite grasp.
_____You shall not have her.
_____From somewhere deep inside me, I found the courage to duck my head and roll.
_____When I looked up from my crouch, Mr. Ron had gone up the steps and was swinging his big sword at Mrs. Gossamer, and Eilonwy was hugging the boys and girl to her, telling them not to watch.
_____So I didn’t watch, either.


_____Afterwards was kind of . . . strange, I think. Mr. Ron took the children to another orphanage while I stayed in the car with Eilonwy. When Mr. Ron came back, he told us the state had no records of the Home Mrs. Gossamer had built or of any of the children that had stayed there.

_____P.S. I wonder if the Home disappearing after Mr. Ron made Mrs. Gossamer vanish had anything to do with it.
_____P.S. Again. That’s why I called it “Amnesia.” Maybe the state has “amnesia” or something?

I doubt they have amnesia. But something might be in the "cover up" mode. Or, if I wanted to be really insulting, I suggest it didn't happen. However, that would be priggish and rude. So I won't.