[Those who survived the ruined world]
——xxx——
Lucas felt a sluggish throb, as if he'd dropped from a towering height and snapped a few bones. However, the feeling was disconnected from his current state—although he felt the pain, he could see no wounds.
Immediately, he thought of his reflection roaming on the other side, with the real Elias. Had that man neglected his poor, pitiful reflection?
What a terrible person.
Kane, with Snow White draped over his shoulder, glanced at his brother's face of self-pity, and fell silent.
"...do you have a plan to find the Evil Queen?"
Lucas nodded, glancing over from where he crouched against the outside stone walls, away from whatever lurked within the castle. "We'll separate. I'll kill the Evil Queen. You survive until I can do so, and make sure you're in front of the mirror."
Kane, pressed against the wall, peered around the corner cautiously. "Wouldn't it be safer if we went together?"
"The essential thing is that the Snow Whites on both sides of the mirror become evil. Only then will there be any point in killing the Queen—I need you to do that."
"And if you don't return?"
Lucas' stare flickered over, a calm pool of confidence reflected in them.
"Then I'll have to leave the rest up to you."
Kane didn't like the idea of that, wanting to protest but being unable to refuse the steady determination in his sibling's cold gaze. Lucas was never one who needed to be shielded from dangerous things.
He just needed to be able to trust another person, that there would be somebody to catch him when he fell.
Finally, Kane nodded in agreement. "However, if you do not reach the mirror in one hour, I will leave to look for the Evil Queen. I won't wait longer than that."
Lucas considered it and also agreed. After all, the stranger before him might get impatient waiting, or didn't trust his ability to succeed.
"Also, take my sword."
"No," said Lucas bluntly, disliking the idea of taking somebody's means of protection.
Kane insisted, his voice growing stern and difficult to refuse. He didn't budge from where he stood. "If you don't, then I can't allow you to run off."
'...why do I feel like I'm being reprimanded?'
Lucas blinked, slightly uncomfortable. If a person tried to order him around, he would purposely do the exact opposite to irritate them.
But this was different. They needed to cooperate.
Sullenly, Lucas spoke. "Fine."
Kane chucked inaudibly, a soft snort of amusement at the stubbornness lining Lucas' brows. He handed the sword over before anybody's mind could be changed.
Essentially, though they'd survived some ordeals together, they were nothing more than unlucky souls that happened to cross paths. At the thought of that, Lucas felt discomfort stirring in the pit of his stomach.
How long had it been since he last ate? That must've been the reason.
He scolded his stomach for his distasteful unease.
After finishing their discussion, the pair sneaked in through an open window, climbing into one of the rooms like thieves.
"Have you been to the castle before?" asked Lucas.
Kane shook his head.
"Be careful. It's similar to a haunted house—strange sounds, things crawling on the ground to chase after you, hands, and rolling eyeballs. If you don't look, you can pretend it isn't there."
Kane grimaced at the straightforward explanation of Lucas', his imagination conjuring all sorts of awful sights. Even if he pretended it wasn't there, it didn't mean it would disappear.
Sorry that he didn't share the same poor eyesight that his brother did!
Lucas directed Kane to the floor that the mirror room had been on, surprisingly not coming across any ordeals, or ugly, squirming messes that trailed after them previously.
However, as soon as they both took a step on the floor, a clanging sound vibrated through the halls.
The end of the ringing trailed off in a hum, making each strike of metal drag out for even longer, sending vibrations from their feet, all the way up their bones. The atmosphere in the castle changed in an instant.
Kane swung his head up and saw a coagulated, dark red liquid slowly dripping down, mixed with clumps.
Chunks splattered to the floor in sloppy slaps against the ground.
"....."
Lucas saw it too and decisively said, "There are two turns at the end of this hallway. I'll keep heading upstairs, you try to find the room."
Kane was still reluctant to part, since he wasn't sure what would happen by the end of it. However, he swallowed and smiled under his foot. "Alright."
Lucas saw the peeking smile under the flowing hood, a gentle curve of the lips that surprisingly suited the proper demure of the man. He paused, distracted for a second, before turning away and running off.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Kane spun around, no time to mope over his brother's swift abandonment, and sprinted down the hallway. He adjusted Snow White so she wouldn't fall, and narrowly avoided the warping walls that bulged towards him.
He could only believe that Lucas was strong enough to kill the Evil Queen.
Because that was the little brother he was proud of.
Far away, Lucas twisted around a corner in search of stairs. There should've been another floor to the castle, one he hadn't explored after finding the mirror with Elias.
He had a feeling, an unreliable sense of intuition, that told him the Evil Queen should be there. And if she wasn't, then he'd have to search the entire castle from the bottom up all over again—he would be letting the stranger down.
Elias, too, if he was still alive. The evil Snow White had to be found as well, but if Elias was dead, then he could only rely on his own reflection on the other side.
There were too many variables.
All he could do at the moment was focus on the task at hand and proceed.
Lucas stumbled on a block, lifting his head to face the winding stairs that continued up. An illusion of never-ending, and a deep void in the center. It chilled him to the bone.
Along the rounded walls, he saw dark concaves of space, likely where an entrance was. These stairs seemed to connect to the tall cylinder towers of the castle.
He would search there if the Queen wasn't on the third floor.
Lucas started up the winding steps, feeling the wind blow from high above. He shivered slightly, alone in this eerie silence.
His legs felt like lead, smashing down each step heavily, endlessly. The man squinted into the darkness—how far away was the door?
As he thought that, the entire staircase rumbled in protest. Lucas lurched in surprise. The stairs jerked forth, sending his body into an unsteady balance. He leaned forward to grab onto the wall, but like clockwork, the stairs began to turn.
Lucas gasped as he slipped on the edge of a crumbling step, descending into the darkness below.
Shadows slipped underneath, outstretched hands clawing upwards where he was falling. A hundred widened eyes, a white glow in their pupils, collectively staring at him.
Lucas flinched, slamming his hand onto the edge. He used all of his strength to dangle. His gaze flickered down, and the nails skimmed the underneath of his shoes, wisping closer.
"Damn!" He kicked at one of the hands, as the rough edge tore through his skin.
He pulled himself further up with a heavy breath, moving all his weight onto his arms.
Lucas didn't hesitate when he climbed up completely, bloodied fingers pressing against the stone before he rushed up the stairs.
It moved with his movements, causing him to stumble and fall.
The door—!
The shadowed glimpse of a concaved space—Lucas stretched out a hand towards it. The trailing hands behind him continued their dragging chase, destroying sections of the stairs at a time.
A sharp nail drilled into his ankle, piercing through. He felt it break through his skin, wriggling underneath his skin.
Lucas yanked the sword at his belt, slamming it down as the nail cracked, splitting apart. A chunk still remained in his ankle painfully, but there was no time to rest.
He burst through the archway, rolling his entire body as he groaned.
Lifting his head warily, he could only open his eyes and accept his death. Only, the hands didn't follow him through.
Lucas dragged himself to the side, wincing at the pain in his ankle.
He really wanted to go back and snap off all of its nails, make them ugly and splintered. Unfortunately, he wasn't a complete idiot.
He couldn't remove the object that poked out of his skin, as he felt the movement with each shiver that went down his leg. Attempting to make his leg lie like the dead, Lucas bent his body to tear off a long strip of his clothing.
He held it underneath, slowly but firmly wrapping around both ends of the nail, holding it in place before he completely bandaged the wound and immobilized it.
Laboured breaths made his chest rise unsteadily, sweat dripping down the side of his face. An increased healing had been a benefit of going through the Stories, because his own personal healing ability and strength had increased dramatically.
A wound like this would heal without medical treatment, given sufficient time.
Though that wasn't to say he could do nothing; he wasn't invulnerable. He would have to pull it out eventually to properly wrap it, but now wasn't a good time.
Staggering into a stand, he hopped down the hallway before slowly gaining momentum and adjusting to the pain. Had he not fought with a gaping knife wound to his arm, or bruises that made him cough up blood?
He would make it. Because now, people were relying on him.
'This is why I hate teaming up with others.'
He was already suffering from other injuries. Lucas fumbled with his internal storage, one he hadn't used but found useful. A benefit of his bond with the Joker, Wren.
He wondered if she could see him from a safe, faraway space of her own making. If she were, he could imagine the sardonic laugh and mockery at his misery.
"Come on, I expect more of the fool I signed a contract with!" She might proclaim.
Or another bet to steal his body away when he died, again. Using the Scales of Justice a second time... his memory buzzed, clearing away the thought.
Lucas heard the desperate chants before he could think about searching the rooms.
"Mirror, mirror on the wall, whose the fairest of them all?"
"It should be me!"
"Mirror, mirror on the wall, whose the fairest of them all?"
"Me, me, me!"
A scathing laugh.
"Mirror, mirror on the wall, whose the fairest of them all?"
The delusional giggles.
Lucas groped at the walls, huffing as he continued to move down the hallway. At the end was a lit room, the light lapping onto the floors before him.
He saw a broken doll, her sewn smile happily staring at him through button eyes.
"The Queen is the most beautiful of them all!" she sang.
More compliments whispered from within the room, and Lucas glanced around. There was no means of protection here compared to the rest of the castle.
He stopped in front of the room.
A lone table sat in the center, with a large mirror framed and glistening. A woman with cascading black hair hummed, combing her locks. There were wrinkles under her eyes, aging her beauty, and a twisted smile.
Lucas met her surprised stare in the reflection, and she jumped up.
"Who are you!?"
Lucas was in extreme pain at this time, clutching his body to keep himself stable. He saw the state of the woman, covered in makeup, skinny, and frail. The perpetrator of this Story, the one who ruined Snow White.
Abusers didn't have to be strong—no, often, they hid in the shadows.
He fiddled with a glass object in his hand, stalking over. The Evil Queen widened her eyes, spinning around and grabbing a sharp blade in her hands.
Lucas continued to move forward, and when he was only a meter away, he abandoned all sensations and slipped forward, stealing away all the light in the room. He moved with the lightness of a phantom, a ghost in the dead night.
They were plunged into darkness.
The woman screeched, a gritting, ear-wrenching sound, and Lucas shoved the object in his hand towards her. A glass slipper.
The Evil Queen jumped in surprise, before taking a whiff of something foul.
She took another sniff before her entire face turned green, and she gagged, choking violently and fainting without any struggle.
Lucas allowed the shadows to scamper back into the darkness, lighting up the room. The slipper shattered in his hand after being used, turning into fine particles.
"..."
It was... really a dumb way of succeeding.
Also, he genuinely wondered what the owner of that slipper had been doing to make such toxic-smelling shoes that would knock a person out with a few sniffs??
Lucas hovered over her.
To think that a child like Snow White would end up in such a state because of a woman like this. A flicker appeared in the corner of his eyes, and he saw the cold eyes of a young boy gazing at the woman on the floor.
A child with no love left in his gaze.
Lucas stared. "Is that your desire?"
The boy's tone was bland.
"What is your desire?"
"I'm not asking for hers." Lucas turned away, raising his sword high into the air. The boy stared, enchanted by the sharpened blade.
Judgment gleamed in colourless eyes, and the mighty arrogance reigned in the cold. The reflection of a seemingly pitiful woman in a deep slumber, about to meet her end.
He slammed the blade down, and it pierced through the woman like clay.
Her body jolted in surprise, spasming before falling still. A quiet death. Perhaps that was for the benefit of her child, cruelly watching her execution.
"Is it because of guilt?" Lucas gazed at him. "Because you knew your mother's hideous side, and did nothing, until doing something wouldn't mean anything anymore?"
"Your sister's desire—Snow White's desire. You can't figure it out, can you?"
Lucas had wondered why, if the Teller was so desperate, he didn't simply lead them to the clues directly or confess the truth. The Story would've ended easily in that case.
He considered the fact that Teller's may be bound by rules, but he somehow didn't doubt that the boy would've broken all inhibitions, sacrificing himself if necessary.
Looking at the startled, round eyes, he realized he was correct.
Lucas struggled to bend down, picking up the crown that had rolled off the Queen's corpse. He raised it into the air, the light bouncing off the gold.
"Are you coming down with me? It's time to put an end to this."
The flickering image of the youth gazed once more at his mother. Finally, he walked over and knelt down, brushing a finger over the cold cheeks.
Lucas watched quietly before asking, "Hey. Tell me, what is a Teller?"
"Creatures that were once human, where their tragedies were imprinted into these commonplace fairy tales. But that's not it, is it?"
He'd already established the fact that Teller's were once human—something he preferred not to dwell on when they were the current enemies of humanity. But why did they become entities that went against the world?
The boy walked away, towards the door.
"Are you unable to tell me?"