In a vibrant expanse of lush greenery, an ostrich strides gracefully, its long legs moving with an elegant rhythm. The sunlight filters through the canopy above, casting playful shadows that dance upon its sleek, feathery body. Each step is a testament to its strong physique, as the bird navigates the bushy underbrush with poise and confidence.
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Summary: There was a man in the Trench today. His presence has stirred up confusion in the whole camp, including inside Clancy and his partner, Porter. Will they be able to discover the true nature behind the purpose of Dema and the Trench? Do they want to? East is up.
Warnings: This story will contain content of a serious nature. Including the following: deep personal fears, torture, and heavy emotions.
Read previous parts: Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four
Word Count: 1403
Enjoy!
Chapter Five - The Ground Taunts My Wings
Gordon froze as her eyes locked with Tyler’s, the man from Trench. There was a sudden tearing feeling in her head that caused her to drop the firewood she had been carrying. Her mind was flooded with overwhelming memories.
The first time they met, collecting their food rations for the day. He had bumped her, causing her to drop her bread all over the ground.
The first time he gained the courage to ask her if she ever thought about the future.
The first time she admitted out loud that she had.
The secret whispered meetings. They would dream about leaving Dema, about being free.
The time she had been caught trying to look beyond the wall, and he had taken her lashings from the priest for her.
The first time she realized he had a light in his eyes, and that she had one in hers to match.
The night they made plans to leave Dema. To escape the dreamless world of muted light.
The night they made their way through the underground tunnel. Her hand tucked in his.
That was it. That was where her memories stopped. The next thing she remembered was waking up in Trench.
Tyler stood from where he had been crouched on the ground, “Yvie.”
Tears began to fill her eyes. “Tyler,” she breathed taking a step forward.
“Yvie!” he called, his voice breaking.
“Tyler!” she held her arms out towards him.
“Yvie!” he broke into a run, colliding with her as his arms wrapped around her small frame.
Tears continued to fall down his cheeks, “I thought I’d lost you!”
“I forgot…” she was gasping, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I forgot. I forgot. I forgot.” She was beginning to tremble. “I forgot you,” she pulled back and looked up at him, “how could I forget you?”
“Your head,” he looked at the healing wound, “you hit it so hard, and I...” his voice caught in this throat, “I couldn’t carry you and get away from the Bishop.”
Yvie’s brow furrowed.
“If I carried you, he would catch us both,” Tyler sighed shakily, “but if I managed to hide you, then maybe - just maybe he would only find me.”
“Tyler,” Yvie breathed and wrapped her arms around him again. “You sacrificed yourself for me.”
“I did,” his grip on her tightened, “and I was punished for it.” His voice was low, weighted with guilt. “The woman in Trench,” keeping his arms around Yvie he turned to look at Sheridan, “who was she?”
“What woman?” Lincoln frowned.
Josh’s breathing was ragged as his hands fisted around her blanket and pulled it from under the broken frame of her cot.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pressing the blanket to his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
I don’t want to lose the light in my eyes.
Her words echoed in his mind. And the anger inside him shifted.
I don’t want to go back to how it was.
He had promised her. He promised that he wouldn’t leave her alone. And he wouldn’t.
He slowly stood and gently folded her blanket before resting it on his cot.
“I’m coming, Marie,” he whispered to the emptiness of their tent. “I will bring you home.”
Sheridan sighed and stepped forward, “Porter.”
“What do you mean Porter was in Trench?” Lincoln’s voice was tight.
Lily’s eyes darted around the camp, “where are they?” Her voice was panicked, “where are Clancy and Porter?”
Movement from their tent drew all eyes towards the yellow-haired man.
“Her name is Marie,” his voice was low, “and I’m going to bring her back.”
“This is crazy,” Sheridan crossed his arms, “I don’t like where this is going.”
“What do you mean you’re going to get her back?” Lincoln frowned at Josh.
“I mean I’m going back into Dema and I’m going to get her back.” His face was set, his jaw tight. “I will go alone if I have to.”
Tyler squeezed Yvie’s hand.
She nodded in reply.
“We’ll go with you,” Tyler stepped forward, “she was taken by Nico, the Bishop of Fears. He will punish her in my place as if it is her third escape. He is cruel and unrelenting. You’ll need help.”
“I’ll help too,” Ruthie stepped forward so she was standing next to Tyler. “If it wasn’t for her, we would be back there now. Besides, I’d love to stick it to Nico one more time.” Her blue eyes danced with a fierceness Josh felt mirrored in his own.
Yvie turned to look at Lincoln. “Will you be okay while I’m gone?”
Lincoln’s eyes were on the ground, her mouth turned down. “I should help.” She shook her head, “no, I have to help.”
“Lincoln?” Yvie reached for her friend.
“My name is Lily,” she pulled away from the touch, “and I…”
“It’s okay,” Josh said, “take your time.”
“I know how to get us in,” she breathed and closed her eyes, “I know how to get us in and back out.”
Yvie’s brow furrowed, “but you were from a different district, wouldn’t Tyler and Ruthie be able to-”
“I was a priest,” Lily’s eyes finally raised and met her partner’s, “I was a priest before I left Andre district. I know how to get in and out of all the districts and how we can get away with it.”
“You were…” Yvie’s voice was quiet, “you were a priest?”
“Yes,” Lily’s gaze returned to the ground. “I know that might…” tears rolled down her cheeks, “I know that might make me not welcome among you anymore, but I can’t just ignore the fact that I could help get Porter-”
“Marie,” Josh interrupted, “use her real name.”
Lily sighed shakily, “if I could help get Marie out.”
“Lily,” Yvie stepped forward, “you will always be my friend.” She took the girl’s hands in her own, “no matter your past.”
Lily fought back tears.
Ruthie made her way to the pair and stared at Lily. Her finger curled under the crying girl’s chin lifting it up so their eyes met. “It doesn’t matter what you were inside Dema,” her voice was soft, comforting, “we were all held under the Bishop’s rule. All that matters now is that light in your eyes and your Bandito heart.”
“Fire,” Lily breathed, her eyes still locked with Ruthie’s, “we have a fire here and they have little to defend against it. We could burn the district and possibly get more people out.”
“That’s it,” Josh turned and walked towards the benches that surrounded the burning frame, “tonight we will plan, tomorrow we will burn the place to the ground.” He placed a foot on the seat of the bench and heaved himself up so he was two feet above everyone else.
“For too long we have hidden in the safety of the forest. For too long we have lived in the ever-growing fear of the Bishops. We let them reach us even here and rule our lives.” He took a deep breath. “I’m done letting them decide my fate for me. My name is Josh and I come from Keon district and I was a metal worker there. I met Marie at the meetings our group had before we left, but I didn’t understand how important she was…” his voice broke, “how much she would mean to me.” He clenched his jaw against the pressing tears, “I will bring her home, and I will try to pull as many out as I can when I do. I know the idea of returning to Dema is terrifying, but we can’t allow the Bishops to continue to hold sway over all we do. So I will ask you only once, who’s with me?”
Banditos who had hidden away in their tents, or were lingering on the outskirts of the camp now stepped forward.
“I will,” a soft voice came from behind Josh.
He turned to see Seneca standing near the frame.
“My name is Jennifer and I’m from Reisdro district,” she pulled in a breath, steeling her confidence, “and I will help you bring back Marie.”
One by one Banditos raised their voices, joining the cause.
a voice whispers to me. i know what i have to do, but i’m afraid. even in my bravery, i’m afraid.
those dark eyes, those black fingers - they have haunted my nightmares. we never really left. they have held us in the grip of fear this whole time. we’ve been smeared this whole time.
be brave.
my hands are shaking. i can feel it coming for me.
be brave.
the darkness is invading my mind, numbing me, filling me.
Are you aware that it's #PenguinAwarenessDay? Here are two Adélie Penguins (Pygoscelis adeliae) which are common all along the Antarctic coast, the only place where they reside. They can't fly, but they do have feathers and can swim around 5 miles per hour (8.0 km/h). From Edwin Ray Lankester, Report on the Collections of Natural History made in the Antarctic Regions during the Voyage of the "Southern Cross." (1902). Contributed for digitization by Smithsonian Libraries ( @smithsonianlibraries ) to Biodiversity Heritage Library.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: There was a man in the Trench today. His presence has stirred up confusion in the whole camp, including inside Clancy and his partner, Porter. Will they be able to discover the true nature behind the purpose of Dema and the Trench? Do they want to? East is up.
Warnings: This story will contain content of a serious nature. Including the following: deep personal fears, torture, and heavy emotions.
Read previous parts: Part One - Part Two - Part Three
Author’s Note: I had begun conceptualizing and writing this story before the most recent Clancy letter surfaced on dmaorg.info on 7/18, so it does alter a bit from the reality of the world Tyler has created for us. I do hope you will enjoy it anyway!
Word Count: 1606
Enjoy!
Chapter Four - No Hope, No Fear
“No,” Clancy breathed, his eyes wide, “not again.”
Porter looked at her partner’s face and then back to the pair in Trench. Her attention was called, ultimately, to his hand wrapped around hers.
“Clancy,” she took a step towards him but his eyes were still glued to Trench. “That man is important, isn’t he?”
Tears formed in his eyes as his response.
She leaned in quickly and pressed her lips to his cheek, startling him.
“Stay safe,” she grinned at him, “promise me you’ll stay alive.”
Clancy began to shake, confusion sweeping over him.
She released his hand and pulled her hood up over her head before quickly turning away and beginning to descend into Trench.
“Porter,” Clancy began to go after her but was stopped by Sheridan’s hand on his shoulder.
“Wait,” the man’s voice was breathless, his lungs heaving from exhaustion.
Clancy could feel anger rise again in his chest but when he turned to confront their leader he saw no malice in his eyes - only fear. Deep, unadulterated, fear.
He turned back around to watch as Porter made her way to the bottom and broke into a sprint towards the struggling pair.
Her boots slipped the last five feet down the steep terrain, landing her on the rocky bottom of Trench. As soon as she was steady she pushed herself to run, to get to them as fast as she could. If she was going to be brave, she had a very small window to do so and she didn’t want to give herself the chance to change her mind.
They were too focused on getting away from the oncoming bishop to notice her until she was practically on top of them. They stopped when she reached them.
“Run,” she told them as she stood between them and the rider.
They stood and stared at her.
“Run!!!” she screamed at them, jarring them from their shocked state.
The woman grabbed the man’s arm and pulled on him and they started moving again.
Turning her attention to the rising sound of hoof falls, Porter turned to face her fate and lowered her hood.
“What is she doing?” Clancy again tried to move towards the edge of the cliff, but again was stopped by Sheridan’s hand on his shoulder.
“She’s sacrificing herself,” Sheridan’s voice was faint.
Porter waited for the Bishop to stop, about twenty feet from where she stood, to address him.
“My name is Marie,” her voice was wavering, “I’m from Keon’s district. Please, take me in their place.”
The man on the horse hesitated as if considering her offer before dismounting.
Marie began to tremble. She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t watch as those dark fingers make their way towards her. She turned to look at Clancy standing on the edge and reached out towards him.
“Don’t let me be gone…” she whispered.
She was so small, her arm stretched out towards him from the bottom of Trench.
He held out his hand in her direction and felt that if he could just reach far enough if he could lean enough over the edge, he could touch her. Just like his fingers caught hers in the dark of night. He would be there. He couldn't leave her alone. But his feet wouldn't move.
She could hear the Bishop’s breath as he stopped in front of her. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she felt the cold, hard fingers run over her neck.
“No,” Clancy breathed as the Bishop’s fingertips wrapped around her throat and pulled away, leaving the black smeared across her skin.
Her shoulders seemed to relax as she lowered her hand. The light in her eyes clouded over as she slowly turned to follow the Bishop back to his horse.
“No, no, no…” he fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. “What have I done?”
“Sheridan,” a voice from further down the cliff called, “we have them.”
“Bring them to the camp,” Sheridan’s eyes didn’t leave Clancy, “we need to return to the safety of the forest.”
Clancy sat and watched the girl follow the bishop out of Trench. He stared, his eyes unblinking until they were so small you could hardly see them against the harsh backdrop of the emptiness between Trench and Dema.
“Clancy,” a voice called to him softly, “Clancy, we need to go.”
He was drifting as if in a dream as he stood and followed the hooded figure back towards the woods.
It was fine.
Everything was fine.
Was that Porter in front of him?
No. The markings were wrong.
The light of the day seemed dim and the sounds around him were muted.
Everything was fine.
He would return to camp and she would be there. She was always there.
His feet seemed to drag across the ground and the world felt like it was shrinking.
Everything was fine.
The edge of the camp came into view. The familiar outlines of tents and the smell of the ever burning frame reached into his tunnel vision, pulling his conscious mind back to reality. There was a spark in his chest. A hot anger that quickly lept into consuming flames. It broke through the numbness.
“You!” he growled as he pushed Sheridan from behind. “Why did you stop me?”
“She wouldn’t have wanted you to follow,” Sheridan’s face was hard, but his eyes were filled with sadness. “Porter wouldn’t have…”
“Marie!” Clancy yelled, his hands were fists at his sides. “Her name was Marie.”
“We don’t use our names here,” Sheridan’s voice was soft.
“It’s bullshit!” Clancy yelled again, “we pretend to be free! We pretend that they don’t still hold his firmly in their grasp, but they do! We are afraid! We live our lives out here filled with just as much fear as we did in there! We are afraid of our own names!”
“Clancy, please,” Sheridan reached for him, nervously glancing around the camp.
“My name is Josh!” he closed his eyes to fight back the tears, “and her’s was Marie! I lived with her for a year and I didn’t even know that!” He bit his bottom lip, his rage turning inward.
“I didn’t even know that…” his voice was quiet as he shoved past Sheridan.
He fought back the tears as best as he could, but once inside the tent, they fell freely. He sat on the edge of his bunk, pulling out his journal.
I’m a goner, somebody catch my breath.
I’m a goner, somebody catch my breath.
He hastily scribbled on the first blank page he opened to.
I wanna be known, by you.
I wanna be known, by you.
He paused and looked up at the bunk across from him. Her blanket was still neatly folded where she had left it that morning. Everything was exactly as it always was, despite the fact that his world was falling apart.
Though I’m weak, and beaten down,
I’ll slip away into this sound.
The ghost of you, is close to me.
I’m inside out, you’re underneath.
The man and woman arrived at the edge of camp with the few that had stayed behind to help them find their way. He looked around, his eyes searching for something.
“I’m sorry about that,” Sheridan shook his head, “it’s been a rough few days.”
“It’s no problem,” the woman held out her hand, “my name’s Ruthie and this,” she jerked her head towards the man who was still scanning the camp, “is Tyler.”
“Oh, we don’t, um…” Sheridan glanced at Josh’s tent, “we typically use code names.”
“Do you know a girl named Yvie?” Tyler interrupted.
“Like I said we don’t use names, so unless you see her here,” Sheridan waved an arm, “I have no idea.”
Tyler’s face fell, a darkness seeping into his eyes.
“I’ve got two faces,” he muttered to himself, “Blurry’s the one I’m not.” He covered one half of his face with his right hand, “I need your help to take him out.”
Tyler slowly let his hand slide down his face and fall to his side. “Though I’m weak, and beaten down,” tears were running down his cheeks, “I’ll slip away, into this sound.”
He fell to his knees, eyes still searching the camp, “the ghost of you, is close to me. I’m inside out, you’re underneath.”
He gasped, his face contorting in pain. “Don’t let me gone,” he breathed as he buried his face in his hands, doubled over in agony.
Don’t let me be gone.
Josh finished the poem. The words were scrawled across the page as if written by a madman. Again, he looked at the collection Marie had left on her shelves. All of the rage he had felt earlier peaked in his chest and he dropped his pen and notebook to the floor.
“Don’t let me be!” he screamed as he grabbed the edge of her bunk and turned it over.
“Don’t let me be!” Tyler yelled at the sky, tears streaming down his face and neck.
“I’m a goner!” Josh threw her shelf across the tent so it landed on top of his bunk. “Somebody catch my breath!”
“I’m a goner!” Tyler wailed, his eyes again scanning the camp for something unknown to those around him. “Somebody catch my breath!”
“I wanna be known,” Josh fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face and his hands pulling at his hair, “by you!”
“I wanna be known, by-” Tyler’s eyes grew wide as they fell on Gordon who had just returned to camp with Lincoln, “you…”
There is something about large birds that is both repellent and fascinating. A recent series "If Wishes Were Wings', examined the visual possibilities in the imagined dreams of flightless birds. Here with the first of a series titled 'Strange Birdfellows' I will explore the mythological and symbolic interactions of unusual birds with other human and animal life forms. Imagination is always a flight of fancy...
