by silverluna
Chapter One: Dark
After a while, all night blended together. There was no longer distinct patterns, just one solid sheath of dark that she was fitting neatly in. All time slowed or speed up, depending upon the moment. She kept running, stopping only for air or water. Substance; the chill or heat on flesh; the reasons why: all no longer mattered. If she stopped for too long, they would find her and catch her. If they caught her, they would kill her. A part of her past that had distorted as time raged on. A part of her past she could barely remember, but was unable to completely forget. Was it a mistake or was it fate? She wasn't sure if she believed in either.
So upon these mannerisms, she happened upon them. She wasn't a groupie or a big follower of anyone really. Snatches of song on various radios reached her, but she could never stay long enough to hear the whole song. She never meant to endanger nor bring her problems upon them. It was all a clash of fate or just mere coicisidence. Whatever it was, she was here and didn't even know they were there.
Likewise, they were ignorant to her existence.
"Oh, I see the natives are restless," she muttered under her breath at the train station. A group of giggling, moronic girls talking about god knew what or maybe not even so. "If they don't shut up, they're gonna give me away," she cursed. She plastered herself against the walls, waiting for her chance.
But that was a memory hours ago. It faded into twilight.
Night had seeped out of the pore openings of day. The train station blurred and was gone at top speed. She ran as afternoon blurred to evening to some overpass, hugging the foot path of the bridge. She wore black sunglasses and was dressed up like darkness' bride. Suddenly, she saw her chance. Stuffing the sunglasses in her pocket, she swung her legs over the railing. "That's it. Just a little further—" As soon as its huge presence came into focus beneath her, she let herself drop off.
Inside, the bus driver heard a thud, and wondered if the bus had scrapped along the bottom of the overpass bridge. He contemplated stopping, but knew the boys were on a schedule; everyone was on a schedule. Only so much time was allotted, and stopping right now would push that time away faster.
Night was threading itself daintily, an unseen hand tightly sewing up the open crevices of the day. Sheer threads of cloth like night rested on her like a blanket as she gripped the bar attached to the top of the bus. As she held on tighter, the bus flying at at least 70 mph, her knuckles grew white.
She was not untouched by her previous experiences. They did mean something, but of what exactly she was unsure of at this time. As recent memory dwelled, she wished those girls would stop laughing so loud and laughing so much. Not all of this was funny. None of it was funny for her. Her life was a drama now. Before she could even conceive a notion of fantasy, it was drama and it was all she knew. She knew what it was like to run, to sleep with one eye open in a cheap motel with all the windows locked and chairs pressed against the doors. She knew what it was like to taste the fresh spring of water each time she had almost forgotten it existed. She knew what it was like to have no substance in her, to taste the full throng of air, to be no one and know no one and be dangerous and very much coveted after. She knew what it was to know secrets others wanted to choke out of a person. She knew what it was like to run. Running was her life.
They drove for what seemed like hours. She liked the fast life, unable to let it go. She had nothing to turn to if she did. They were almost to a stopping point. She knew it. She'd watched the huge 18 wheelers and SUVs wiz by. The wood was nearing.
"Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"
She held on as traffic slowed ahead. Their gate was coming but she didn't know that. She had also watched as the unfeeling concrete of the highway stretched and shifted into trees, leaves lush and green. She held on as the vehicle carrying her slowed to a stop.
She never knew if they were following her, if they were watching her, if they could see her at all times. Sometimes she wished an angel would pluck her like a dark rose into the jungles of heaven.
"In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?"
She wouldn't mind the tangle of vines, the vast crawl of continual growing. So it would be dark. At least it would be over then. Sighing, she climbed to her feet, seeming to be the epitome of Night goddess arising from the slumber of a metal tour bus; a gargoyle coming to life from atop of some ancient castle far away from here. She walked along the roof. At last reaching the edge, she sprung down in a crouch to face the first human she had seen since the train station. He was lucky, caught behind glass and free of the rain-slick look that had, over time, soaked her. He jumped and recoiled at her sudden presence, straining to see exactly what it was he was looking at. She only looked a moment. Then she leapt off the hood, running toward the foresty-looking trees that were not close but not too far off.
The bus, locked in traffic, was unable to follow her.
"And what shoulder and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart begins to beat, What dread hand and what dread feet?"
The men in the black sedan watched her hurried jaunt. "Should we follow her, boss?" a man with greasy hair asked.
The boss, an almost sweet-looking older man with gray hair, said no. "I think we should keep an eye on these creatures," he continued, flicking an indifferent hand at the vehicle in front of them. "We can pick up the scent of the beast again. If anything, they may be good bait—something to lure her back."
"What do you think they want with her?" a boy with white-blond hair pondered.
"I don't know," the boss replied slowly. "Whatever it is, we cannot allow them her. She's ours. Soon after that, she will be chasing butterflies in that heavenly jungle we're always hearing her muttering about."
Within the bus, the occupants were trying to determine what was taking place in the darkness. About two hours ago, Chris was sure he'd heard a thud above them. he'd almost huddled, his hands reaching to protect his head. "Did you hear that?" he'd questioned Justin.
"Stop having those Wizard of Oz dreams again," Justin had chided, focusing on the video game.
Chris had scrunched up his eyebrows, grumbling.
But now, there were more sounds on the roof—as if something were walking across it. The sounds were enough to draw JC, Joey, and Lance from whatever they were doing. Chris attempted to pause the Nintendo but Justin had strongly protested. "It's your imagination. Just focus." Chris put down the controller, staring at the ceiling. Something was going on. After a few seconds, the steps stopped.
Then the bus driver shrieked. He'd made no explanation of that moment, but the bodyguards went to him to watch the series of events unfold.
JC, Joey, and Lance went to the windows, pushing them open. Someone was running towards the forest. Someone with long tangled hair, black clothes. Someone that was vanishing into the night as it unfurled its tentacles.
"See that," the boss flicked his wrist. "They are making sure she has safe passage. We must watch them carefully. They may be key to her undoing."
Within the depths of the bus, away from the excitement of the night, another girl was making contact. "You have to tell them. Tell them soon. Time nearly defeats you," the voice was saying to this blond girl by way of some kind of cosmic connection. It was surrounding her like air, forcing her to pay attention. This girl was their dove, their angel, their messenger.
And now, she was to return. She wiped a few tears as they bled from her eyes. "But, I love them—"
"Time nearly defeats you," the otherworldly voice repeated urgently as it faded out.
"I know," this girl murmured. She closed her eyes, letting this earthly darkness take her for a while.