#forelise

// Hey guys this is the last part of For Elise for a week or so, I am sick. I will put out an Inside Job smut fic I wrote in a feverish haze//

“He’s the only lead we have, but I don’t trust him,” Russel whispers to me.

“Me neither,” I tell Russel, but I give a short nod and start after him.

I don’t trust him, but I need the vines.  Cautiously, I follow him through the trees to a wide clearing.  He sits next to two people outside of a run-down cabin.  The man introduces himself as Aaron.  I also meet his mother, an elderly woman named Jan, with skin so thin she has a bluish tint.  Next to her, he introduces Marco, a man just a bit older than Aaron who walks with a limp.

 “We all are here because of the Wish Vines. I’m assuming you are too?” Aaron askes Russel while settling into a chair. 

“Clay is,” Russel says, shifting in his chair, “If I’m totally honest, I don’t remember why I’m here at all.”

“Just like Mother Dearest!” Aaron laughs.

Russel and I share a look in uncomfortable silence, acutely aware of two pairs of eyes watching us.  Jan is next to Aaron’s stump, leaning back against a tree with her eyes closed.

“Oh, lighten up, she won’t remember you laughing at her anyway. She probably came here to wish for her memory and then forgot how to do the spell. Right, Mama?” Aaron squeezes Jan’s shoulders and she smiles at him. She really has no idea what is happening around her, I think to myself. “Me on the other hand,” Aaron grins broadly, “I wished for a vacation. I expected some sort of Bahamas situation, but I suppose this is technically an island getaway. Why don’t you tell them what you wished for, Marco?” He says it as a suggestion, but it is clear that Marco didn’t have a choice whether to stay quiet. It seems that Aaron was the leader of the trio, or at least someone they didn’t dare to cross. 

“I wished for a new life,” is all Marco says.

“Russel and I need to get the vines and get off this island. I need them for my sister, she’s dying.”

Russel stands up, “Elise is your sister?” We all look at him confused and he blushes. “I guess I, I guess it didn’t click until now. I thought she was his… it doesn’t matter,” he sits down and Aaron raises a brow.

“Okay then,” Aaron sucks on his teeth, “now that that’s settled, I’m afraid I have bad news. If there was a way out, don’t you think we would have taken it?”

Jan opens her eyes and looks me up and down.  There is a glint in her eye that reminds me of Elise.  Even if Jan isn’t all there, I decide I can trust her.   “There’s an axe in the back room,” Jan speaks for the first time. “You can use it to chop the vines, make a way out.” She walks towards the back and Russ and I follow her, ignoring the protests from Aaron that she’s senile. When we are out of earshot she whispers, “I wished for my son to come back to life, not my memory. My memory ain’t what it used to be, but I’m still sharp as an, well, this,” she points to the axe hidden behind a curtain of regular ivy. 

“If you have your memory… why do you let him treat you like that?” Russel asks.

“Because I remember what it was like to lose him. I’m just grateful he’s here.”

I take the axe and walk with Russel, letting Jan pull ahead of us.  I realize her frail body no longer warns how little time she has left but proves how long she has cared for her son.   That realization is almost as startling as my next.  “Russ, you can’t wish for someone to come back to life. They don’t come back, you just create a monster. Aaron isn’t real.”

“I knew he seemed off! What do we do, though? Can’t we just let Jan believe he’s real and get out of here?” Russel walked closer to me, “Let’s just get the vines and go. I don’t know how to explain it, but meeting you is the first thing I remember doing that means anything. Maybe if I stick with you, I can find a way to get the rest of my memories back” he looked at his feet as he walked.

“I’ll help you get your memories back, once we get those vines you can just wish to remember. But we can’t just ignore Aaron. Or, I guess, Not-Aaron. You saw how violent the plant creature in the water was.  It is only a matter of time before Not-Aaron attacks.  That creature will end up killing the others if we don’t stop it. I don’t think I can live with Jan’s life on my conscience,” I heft the axe and study its blade. “I need to be sure. Maybe I’m wrong, Aaron could just be a jerk, not a monster. The only way to know he’s human is to see if he bleeds red.”

When we catch up to Jan and the others, Aaron is glaring at me. He knows, I think to myself. I have to act now. “Aaron,” I challenge, “did you know that you can’t use a Wish Vine to bring someone back to life?”

Aaron stands up from his conversation with Marco and turns to me. “Of course, I know that. I don’t like that tone of yours, boy. I don’t know what you’re getting at but you had better back off.” Marco looks between me and Aaron quickly, concern for his friend showing in his widening eyes.

“Your mother didn’t wish for her memory, Aaron. She wished for you to come back to life. The real Aaron died, didn’t he?” I walk towards him with my hand tight around the axe handle. “I won’t leave here until you prove you’re who you say you are. Give me your arm.”

“No!” he draws his arms close to his chest protectively. “I did lie, but not about who I am. I lied to my mother. She didn’t bring me back to life because I never died. I just let her think that after I ran away to start my new life. When I saw her again here,” he trails off, tears forming when he looks at his mother, “I saw a second chance.” He walks to his mother and gives her a hug. 

“I want to believe you. But I can’t trust you. Give me your arm,” I say, holding my hand out to his, “just a nick, and then we’ll know.”

“Seriously, man?  I ain’t letting you near me with that rusty, god-forsaken axe to prove your idiotic theory.  Just looking at it is giving me tetanus.  I already told you the truth.  You know what-” he jolts out his hand and snatches the handle.  He yanks it, but I try to hold tight.  “Let go.  Drop the axe!” he yells at me, struggling to break it from my grip.  He takes a step to get a better hold but stumbles.  The blade gashes at his shoulder, slicing deep.  Aaron screams in pain.

Marco gets up from his seat and smiles.  His green eyes gleam at us.  “It’s true.  Wishing for someone to come back from the dead does create a monster.  Too bad it wasn’t Aaron that died.  That dumb old hag wished me into existence!” He smirks at Aaron. “Her memory ain’t what it used to be,” he mocks.  

Aaron cradles his arm to his chest and puts pressure on his dripping slash. “Who… what are you?” 

“I’m the lovely son your mother missed so much she risked her life to bring back. She was a bit fuzzy on the details, but I’m here just as she remembered,” Marco bares a smile that is too wide to be human, his cheeks tearing at the corners. “You really should put Ma in a home, that senile old lady wasn’t even close to picturing her own son correctly.”

Marco steps closer to me, his eyes freezing me to the spot.  My heart is racing.  How could I get this wrong?  How could I let Elise down?

Marco tilts his head playfully, “If you had been a little smarter, you could have avoided what’s coming.  You could have stopped the right man.  Unfortunately for you, I can’t let you leave this island.  You guessed wrong.  Good try,” he says tauntingly, opening his dripping mouth.  

Thin tendrils spring from his throat and into Aaron’s open wound.  They dig in, rippling under his skin, leaving in their wake raised paths like a gopher trail.  The blue-green tendrils thickened, tearing apart the young man’s skin from the inside.  Red blood drips down.  Red.  We were wrong, and it cost Aaron his life.  More tendrils come from Marco’s--no, not Marco’s, I remind myself--mouth, diving into the new cuts.  From the monster’s bad leg come even more vines.  The razor-sharp leaves shred his pant leg, revealing there was no flesh there at all but a braided tangle of vines.

  The vine twists in the air as if it is sensing for prey.  I stand stiff, watching the horror unfolding before me.  Aaron’s body is unrecognizable, but the upper vines continue to burrow through his flesh.  While staring in terror at Aaron, I see the vine darting towards me from my peripheral, angling at the deep scrape I got falling from the portal.  The sudden motion snaps me from my stupor.  I spin the axe around and slash it into the monster’s chest, green slime oozing from him.  Russel’s shocked face is splattered green.  The vines wilt, dropping to the ground.  The beast pretending to be Marco sputters out something that sounds like, “Don’t just you suffer,” as he sighs his final breath.

Then, the air becomes cold; purple and red smoke gusts around me.  It is the portal. “Russel! Hold on to me, Russ!” I call and drop the axe. The air thickens as I scoop up chopped vines and reach for my companion. He takes hold of my hand. I try to call for Jan to get her to come with me.  She doesn’t respond.  She only looks at her son, mourning his death a second time.  The last thing I see as the portal closes is Jan crying on the ground.

Lucifer smiles at me.  I’m too stunned to say anything; blood and green ooze cover my clothes.  

Lucifer raises his hands like a ringmaster, “Did you enjoy my show?  It was quite the hassle to set up.  Getting that senile old woman to wish a random man come back from the dead?  Brilliant!  Her real son stumbling upon me begging for wishes was just a bonus!”

I squeeze Elise’s ring tightly in my fist.  “What about Elise?  I have the vine.  Now, how do I use it to save her?” I demand.

Lucifer takes the vine from my hand and twirls it, the vine disintegrating into a shimmering powder in his palm that he pours into a vial.

 “This is only the first step, child.  You’ll need to do a lot more to save your sister.” Lucifer turns stiffly to Russel, as if he was being spun on a turn-table. “And you,” Lucifer’s smile drops for a second, returning so quickly I am not sure if I imagined it, “Are you my plaything now, or do you still belong to that wench? I think the rule is finders-keepers. Wouldn't you agree, Russel Mcallister?”

A low rumbling comes from the ground, followed by the sound of rushing water. Russel’s eye widens and he removes his thumb from the symbol, but it is too late. Water seeps up from the stones and towards us from all directions. Before I even have time to think, the water reaches my shins. “Hurry!” I yell at Russel, who is already starting to get in the boat. I toss my leg over the side and something falls out of my pocket. Elise’s ring. The boat is already rising, much faster than should be possible. I debate with myself for only a second. I take a deep breath and dive into the water. It is already at least 6 feet deep, and water is still flowing out from the rocks. There, wedged between two of the black stones, is the ring. I kick my legs like Elise taught me all those summers ago and reach for it. I put it on my pinky and curl my fingers around it. Currents of water push against my sides. My muscles burn from the strenuous day of running, swimming, and the lack of oxygen. Above me, I can see the sun filtering through the water and the shadow of the canoe. I breach the surface, spitting water and gasping for air. The black stones are so far below me now I can no longer see them. 

“Clay!” Russel calls to me, desperately paddling the canoe forward with his hands. “Clay, swim towards me!” 

I swim towards the boat and take his hand. I hold tightly onto the boat for a chance to stop treading and try to catch my breath. Russel is smaller than me, I’ll have to be careful getting into the canoe or I’ll flip us both into the water. “Russel, stay low,” I tell him, and prepare myself to get in the boat. With all of my remaining strength, I kick the water and reach for the other wall of the boat, pulling myself up. The boat rocks violently and Russel clutches my shirt and pants, pulling me towards him and into the safety of the canoe.  I want to cry and scream, but I have no energy left.  Breathless and soaking wet, I choke out a thank you and sit with my head between my knees. 

“What was that?” Russel screams, “Why did you dive down? Are you crazy? You could have died!” 

I raise up my hand and take the ring off my finger. “I had to get this. It belonged to Elise, she’s the whole reason I’m here. If I can get to that island and harvest Wish Vine, I can save her. She’s… sick.” The word “sick” stabs into my gut like an elephant’s tusk. She was more than sick. It was incurable. Her only hope was a miracle, and I was the only one who could get it for her.  

“She must be really important to you,” he looks away quickly, then seems to register something else I said. “Wish Vine?” Russel furrows his brows, “I thought that was made up. It’s real?”

“Not on Earth. But here? I think it is. That portal you went through to get here? I went through one like it made by a man called Lucifer. He fancies himself the ultimate deal maker. Even named himself after the devil.”

“Well, we have a boat now. How do we get to the island you were talking about?” Russel gazes over the water. With no points of reference, it is impossible to tell if we are moving or whether or not the water is still getting deeper. All we can see for miles is the blue-grey sky and the ocean that bubbled up around us. At least the birds are gone. 

I try to remember if I had ever read anything about finding the Wish Vine’s island, but nothing comes to mind. “I don’t know. Maybe the current will take us there? The water is magic after all.” I don’t know if I believe my own reasoning, but Russel seems to accept that drifting is our only choice right now. 

I’m not sure how many hours we floated before Russel spotted it. The island was just ahead of us, less than a mile away. Despite the sun beating down on us, neither of us burned. Russel was right, we don’t get hungry or thirsty here. The water ahead of us was murky. Just beneath it, I see long, snake-like things moving. “Look,” I whisper, pointing towards the water. He grimaces, twisting in his seat to look at the other side of the boat. They are all around us but seem to be giving us a few feet of clearance. “They aren’t getting closer, but they aren’t getting any further away, either. I don’t like the looks of this,” I say to Russel. We keep slowly moving towards the island, the snake creatures never getting any further from the edge of the canoe. When we reach land, I get off first. The sand is rough and gravelly, but at least it isn’t the same stones as before. I take Russel’s hand and help him out of the boat. He is barely out of the boat when the snakes strike. They shoot from the water into the air like harpoon lines and wrap over the boat. When they pull the boat into the depths, I see that they aren’t snakes at all, but vines. 

“Hey, uh,  Clay? I think our boat was just eaten by a plant,” Russel holds tighter to my hand and tugs me away from the shore. “We need to get away from them.”

“Those have to be the vines we came for. If I can just-” I let go of Russel’s hand and try to grab hold of a vine. It curls slightly, a cobra poising for an attack. I dive my hand under the surface to grab it, but the tendril slithers around my wrist. I yank my hand back and I hear a coarse laugh from behind me. A man who looks to be around twenty approaches us.  His hair is black and wiry.  It seems as if he hasn’t washed it in years.  The juxtaposition of his laugh and his dark, sunken eyes chills me.  

//I am going to just break this down into arbitrary parts. I will try to leave on a cliff hanger so it stays exciting :) The story is all planned out but not fully written, so some parts may change as I write. I will label changes with a decimal system. For example, an edit to this part would be uploaded as 1.1 and most likely reblogged off of this post to keep the story coherent to the reader. I hope you decide to stick around!

//

FOR ELISE

The cliché of it all is what really bothers me. The cave looks like it is out of a children’s book about the difference between stalactites and stalagmites. The monster before me sits on a throne that may as well be a set-piece from a cheesy horror movie. The only difference is that these bloody skulls he sits upon are real. Lucifer’s cracked lips move, but I can’t bring myself to listen to him. My mind is caught in a tangle of conflicting emotions. I don’t want to be here any longer, but he is my only option. 

“So?” he smiles at me, “Do we have a deal?”

He knows I can’t say no. How can I let my sister die without at least trying to save her? The flames lighting the room seem to mock me. I try to remind myself that he was once a mortal man, but the rotting skin stretched over his face is anything but human. The devil may not have been real, but when he created this hell and crowned himself Lucifer, he had more than enough evil to make the monster real. Putrid smoke wafted off of him, forcing my eyes to water. 

I push down the bile rising in my throat. Elise needs the Wish Vine. It’s the only way. I can’t go back to that room and watch her suffer any longer. I set my jaw and look into his mercury eyes.

 “Deal.”

 I squeeze his bony hand as hard as I can. Ice water fills my veins and I know it is time. A burning portal of purple and red blazes beside Lucifer. With a cruel laugh, his bony hands wrap around my arms and shove me through.

The portal itself feels as if I am walking through cold air.  The fall into obsidian-like stone sends a jolt of pain through my leg.  Not deep, but it still bleeds. I’d have to deal with it later. Right now, all I can think about is how to get to that island. I look around for some sign of where I am, but all I see are the dark black stones below me and the circling vultures above me. I kick the ground and send stones flying with a yell. Of course, he tricked me. I will probably die here. Even worse, Elise will die alone with no one to save her. It’s all too much. I sink to my knees in the sharp stones and close my eyes, but no tears come. I had been so close. I had done everything I could to save her. And still, I was here, no closer to saving her life than before. I reach into my pocket and feel her cold ring against my fingers. I wouldn't get to say goodbye. My despair was cut short by a beating sound. I look up and there is one of the birds, circling closer now. I pull myself up quickly and shout at it, “I’m not dead yet! Go away!” I wave my arms at it as threateningly as I can.

Another bird comes closer, then another.  One dives so closely I can see the rotting flesh of a past meal dangling from its beak.  The rancid smell of a dead mouse berates my nose.  I reach down for a fistful of rocks and throw them as hard as I can at the menacing birds. It doesn’t deter them in the slightest.  My only option is to run. I push against the pebbly earth, kicking up the stones behind me. Wildly, I search for any place in the vast plane to hide. About a quarter of a mile away, I see something I hadn’t noticed before. An overturned boat, its light brown color contrasting against the black rocks. I pivot towards it and sprint as hard as I can. That is my only chance of surviving, it is the only thing even in this hellhole. My feet slip against the loose stones, threatening to trip me, but I keep running. Almost there, only a few hundred meters left. I look over my shoulder and nearly freeze. The birds had all stopped, they hovered midair as if behind a barrier.  What do they know that I don’t?  Unwilling to press my luck, I close the distance to the boat, leaving the birds still staring at me with beady eyes. 

I can still feel their glare as I grab the edge of the boat. The grainy wood is slivered in some places and worn smooth in others. I plant my feet firmly and try to overturn the boat, but as I do a hand darts out from beneath the boat and clenches my wrist. I pull away as hard as I can, but the hand clenches on tightly. On the other end of the hand is a terrified-looking boy. His hair is matted and his eye stares at me wildly. Eye, singular. Where his right eye should be there is only a painful-looking scar. 

“Who are you?” I demand, still unable to break free, “How did you get here?” 

He doesn’t let go. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares. I ask him again, and this time it seems to register. “I-” he coughs, clearly he hasn’t spoken in a long time, “I am Russel. I don’t,” he clears his throat again, “I don’t really remember how I got here. I think it was that man.”

“Man? The man with a portal? Did Lucifer send you here? Are there others? Why is this boat here? How long have you been here?” I have a million questions but he just closes his eye and shakes his head slowly. 

“I remember the portal. I came alone. I don’t know anything else. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, I don’t remember why I came, I don’t know how I found the boat,” He shifts further out from beneath the boat and slid his fingers along the edge, bringing my attention to a small engraving. No larger than a half dollar, the carving was of a box with two drop shapes inside of it.  It feels important, but I don’t know why.  I puzzle over what it could mean, but I can’t think of an explanation.  Maybe it is the blood caused by this boat’s damn slivers.  Maybe it is just a meaningless decoration or another one of Lucifer’s mind games.

“What’s that?” I motion to the carving. He just shrugs. 

“It’s always been there. I haven’t figured out what it is supposed to mean. I told you, I don’t have any of the answers you’re looking for.” 

I start trying to flip the boat again and he stops me. “Hey!” he says, “Stop that! This is the only shelter out here if you haven’t noticed.”

“Why would there be a boat out here with no water? There has to be something we’re missing. Maybe Lucifer didn’t trick me after all.  There’s a chance this could be a test.  A sick game of Lucifer’s instead of a trick.  And if it’s a game, I plan to win,” I brush off his grasp and overturn the boat. There’s nothing under it, it is just a canoe in a void of hell. “Great,” I mutter to myself, then turn to Russel. “How have you been surviving out here? There’s no food or water. The only animals I’ve seen are those evil-looking birds. Are you even human?”

Russel’s face went red. “I am a human,” he crosses his arms in front of him, “I don’t know how I survived. I never got too hungry or thirsty. It’s been bearable.” He steps around the boat and jabs a finger up towards my face, “And anyway, how do I even know you are human? I don’t even know your name and you come barging in here and flipping over my shelter.”

Now it is my turn to go red. “I’m sorry. It’s just… today has been weird. Can we start over? I’m Clay,” I put out my hand to shake his. He took it cautiously and shook twice. “I’m supposed to get to the island of the Wish Vine. Maybe this boat is how I get there.”

Russel made a show of looking around. “Yeah, no problem, just take my only refuge and sail away in the abundant water,” he turns in a slow circle with his hand cupped like a telescope above his good eye, “Oh, wait. There is no water. Because we’re in a desert.” He leans on the edge of the boat, his thumb over one of the droplets, and looks up at me defiantly.