Hour Of Darkness

Chapter Nineteen, Chains



"Karine, I…" Mystique trailed off, a look of horror on her features. Karine didn't move, her voice raspy and harsh between her thin lips.
"One doesn't betray the Dark One." She whispered coldly. Mystique winced, as if her mother's words stung her. Karine walked to Mystique with rigid steps, and with one long hand slapped her hard across the face. Stunned, Mystique choked out one small sob, thin crimson lines etched on her ivory skin by Karine's long fingernails. Karine drew back her arm to strike again, but John intervened, stepping between the two and snatching Karine's wrist from the air. She looked at him, a flicker of astonishment on her face. It quickly faded to nonchalance, and she jerked her hand from his grasp. Turning for the door, she replied over her shoulder.
"Come. The battle is upon us."
John didn't question, knowing exactly what she meant. He pulled on his white t-shirt that he had worn upon arrival; he was now clad in his normal clothes, and felt better that way. At least he was comfortable.
Mystique sobbed quietly, and he wrapped her in a reassuring hug. With a snap of Karine's fingers, all that was familiar disappeared in a flash.

****


The black mist was suffocating, entrapping every sense of John's body and mind. He reached out with both arms, but felt nothing. Becoming a bit nervous, he knelt down, relieved to find a solid marble floor.
Karine! He called, squinting into the mists. Where are you?
Suddenly, a breeze began to blow, the mists swirling and changing shape in the soft wind. The air circulated faster and faster, the wind picking up rapidly. Slowly, the mist began to clear. John could now see ten feet…twenty…forty…John gasped as the entire landscape came into view.
He was standing on a giant chessboard.
Confused, John turned all the way around slowly, trying to take inventory of his location. A marble chessboard of massive proportions stretched about fifty feet in every direction from the very middle, where there stood a very familiar statue.
The Raenth! He had all but forgotten the very reason they had originally come to Valeth. John recalled that they were to bring the Raenth back to the crippled old man; they had never asked why, and now a tiny fleck of doubt poked it's way into John's mind. What did the man want it for?
Pushing this less-important question from his already overloaded mind, John continued to survey his location. The chessboard ended abruptly, nothing but darkness visible outside the black etched border. John stood only about ten feet from the closest edge, and he ventured closer to sneak a peek over the foreboding threshold.
Nothing.
Nothing at all. Swirling black mists, darkness, but nothing tangible. Not even a floor miles below. Just…darkness. John shuddered to think what may happen if he were to fall from the playing board. He stood up, brushing a small bit of dust from his hands. John noticed that the mists had begun to re-settle, the breeze having died down minutes ago. He walked to the center of a large white square, squinting off into the mist. As if on cue, the wind picked up once again, and the mists cleared a second time to give John another full view of the giant playing board. He noticed something that wasn't there before.
Karine stood forward, centered in a large black square. Behind her, fanned out with two on each side, stood in order Mystique, George, Ringo, and Paul. Mystique looked very cowed, nervously wringing her hands. She was clearly not here of her own will. Then again, the only one here of her own will was Karine.
Welcome to my playground! Karine declared, sounding like a child out for recess. She was certainly looking forward to this, John noted nervously.
Everyone here must speak with their minds. It is impossible to do otherwise; the chasm has no walls, floor, or ceiling, thus banishing all acoustics. Everyone here is capable of talking to everyone else.
John looked to his band mates, hoping to see some sort of reassurance that they were still in there, still trying to fight against her powers, but they were unmoving. They stood like statues, not a glimmer of life in their hunched forms. John's emotions flared, but he struggled to keep them under control, for his sake as much as for theirs. The three were dressed similarly to how John had been dressed, but each had a different color of fabric, the hue matching their magic; Paul a soft blue, George gold-yellow, and Ringo a dark red. The texture of the fabric was coarse, but flexible enough to move easily. John noticed that George didn't wear a shirt, however, due to his wings. They all wore knee-high boots made of an unfamiliar leather.
Now for the rules! Karine cried happily, holding up her long arms. John will fight each of his three friends. This is the ultimate test. His three friends each represent an element of John's being. Confused, John made to speak, but Karine silenced him with a wave of her long fingers. She pointed to Paul. The physical, the body, the tangible aspect. She moved to George. The spirit, flying free, the mind, the intangible aspect. Now she motioned to Ringo. The supernatural, the strange, the unusual aspect.
John nodded slowly. This was a test of his very own being, struggling to overcome himself. It seemed the perfect match; each of his three friends were indeed like parts of him, each of them part of a whole. The Beatles were one living, breathing being, unable to function without just one of the four. And now Karine threatened all this, separating them, leaving John alone, naked, and vulnerable.
Karine interrupted his thoughts once again. You will fight them one by one, in the order of my choosing. John didn't like the sound of that. Once you have defeated one of your enemies, they will no longer be under my power and shall be released. Once free, they can do whatever they choose. If you wish, they can help you battle the next. I will allow this only because each battle will become harder in succession; meaning, the first will be the easiest, the second harder than the first, and the last will be the most taxing. Do I make myself clear? John nodded. Good. Once you have freed your friends, you are free to take the Raenth and go. John nodded again, and with a wave of her hand, the Raenth disappeared. John figured this was for safety purposes.

Let the battle begin.

John's eyes flickered back and forth between his mates, trying to discern which might be the easiest to defeat. Before he could make a definite decision, Karine snapped her fingers.
George jerked to life, his eyes glowing red. John's confidence wavered; he didn't like the idea of fighting his younger band mate. Clearly, George didn't have this problem. Karine stepped back, disappearing into the small amount of mist that now cloaked Mystique, Paul, and Ringo. It was just John and George now.
With one solid beat of his leathery wings, George launched into the air, able to gain quite a bit of height due to the lack of a ceiling. John struggled to concentrate on George's dwindling form, squinting into the darkness. He reached out with his mind, and with his now heightened vision, smoothly stepped to the side as George swooped down, inches from where John now stood. John was almost knocked down by the burst of wind, but was able to keep his footing.
Clearly startled by John's astute maneuver, George backpedaled frantically before shooting off into the mist. He swooped back at John, who once again stepped to the side, but this time George anticipated the move and barreled straight into John.
The wind knocked out of him, John fell onto his back and skidded to the center of the chessboard. George circled higher, preparing for another dive. John quickly stood up.
George, don't do this. A flicker of recognition tickled John's senses, but it soon changed to a cold and unfeeling disdain.
I do what I must.
For whom?
There was a pause. Uncertainty now, then incredulity. For Karine.
Why? John never got an answer as George shot from the sky. With a flick of his mind powers, John set George's body into an uncontrollable spin, sending him crashing into the marble floor. John winced as the marble floor cracked underneath his friend's body, but George didn't even seem phased. Standing up quickly, he launched himself at John with one solid beat of his wings. John managed to whisk him aside with a bit of concentration, and George went shooting by to his side. George quickly recovered, hovering midair. Why do you bother? George asked, his crimson eyes blazing. I will win.
Not likely, John retorted, reaching out with his mind once again. Tugging gently, John scooped up a large handful of marble shards from where George had scarred the chessboard, the flecks hovering midair. With a lightning quick blast, the ball of shards flew at George's bare upper body.
Unfazed, George simply beat his wings with one solid thrust, the ball of sharp marble whipping around and flying back at John. John quickly dove to the side, hitting the marble board with a dull thud on his side. He was able to evade the majority of the projectiles, but a large shard slashed across his cheek, leaving a long slash from his cheekbone to his jaw. John stood up quickly, whipping around and brushing another of George's attacks aside. George rolled on his shoulder blades, then righted himself and quickly blew past in another lightning quick attack, catching John off-guard.
George flew headfirst at John, wrapping his arms around his waist and tackling him, shoving John roughly back to the edge with incredible strength and speed. At the edge, George released him, allowing John's inertia to carry him over the side of the massive chessboard. With a loud cry, John desperately grabbed the slippery edge, hanging by his fingertips over the abyss. He swallowed hard, looking into the infinite darkness below and hoping that his sweaty hands would hold him a little longer until he could pull himself up.
Suddenly, George appeared at the edge, towering over him and glaring down disdainfully. John looked up helplessly as George moved to bring his booted heel down on John's fingers.

****


KARINE! Stop this now!! George screamed, fighting the darkness swirling through his mind. Karine only laughed, a cold, hard laugh. George choked back a sob as he saw himself plant his foot on his friend's fingers. All he could do was watch, helpless, and try to fight the endless darkness from within, hoping that John could hold on.

****


Pain shot up John's arm, but he refused to let go.
George! He cried in pain. Don't you realize what you're doing?
George lifted his foot for a split second, and a flicker of hope flared in John's mind. But then George slammed his boot back down with all his weight. John cried out in pain, releasing with the one hand that was under George's boot. John now hung precariously by one hand, sweat dripping into his eyes. Regardless of his blurred vision, John could still see that George was now moving for his other hand.
With one desperate burst of frustration, John flailed with his free hand at George's ankle, grabbing onto it and pulling. A look of surprise dominated George's face, and he flailed his arms to keep himself upright. Taking advantage of this, John managed to swing his legs up and catch the edge with his toe, quickly giving himself a boost with his mind powers and clearing the edge.
John rolled a few times before coming up into a kneel. He saw George stagger, but was confused because he didn't do anything. George held his head, a pained look on his face. John poked into his mind, and he felt something very reassuring.
George was fighting from the inside.
John leapt up, tackling the confused George to the floor. George didn't fight back, trying too hard to retain his actual identity. John slapped his hands on George's temples, closing his eyes and forcing his mind into George's.
The combination of physical strain, John's mind, and George himself caused Karine to loose her grip on George's mind. With one final burst of mental strength from George and one last assault from John, George was free.
The crimson of his eyes melted into a reassuring chocolate brown. John laughed, relieved beyond compare. George smiled, a bit dazed, but he knew what had happened. He gave John a hug, and John helped him up.
Good to have you back, lad, John said, smiling. George smiled back, nodding silently and trying to regain his wits.
You're a good fighter, John…I've got a MOTHER of a headache… He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. John laughed.
You're not so bad yourself. John replied, displaying the scratch along his jaw line. George smiled sheepishly. Sorry.
It's all right. John put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
I'm just glad you're back.


On To Chapter Twenty!
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