Bridge Jumper Comes Back To Life For Help: The Century Curse

008

When Ian recovered from his unconscious state, Citrus explained everything she'd witnessed. The black cloud remained visible within the protective circle until Ian woke up, at which point it skated across the room, receding within Diana. Unfortunately, Diana woke up at the same moment the smoke reconvened with her. But, maybe it's for the best since neither of them knew of her health status while she sat immobile.

Though Citrus wanted to conduct a thorough examination of them both, Ian knew what he saw needed to be shared first, his encounter with Rycklid. The boy told of the horrors he faced in the dream world. He still wasn't sure what it all meant, and it was even harder for him to explain what he'd experienced, or whether it took place in reality at all.

Then again, the things that Citrus described to him about Diana's condition, experiencing the pain of people in their last moments, he wondered if it shared attributes with what he experienced in there. That room, it wasn't somewhere anyone deserved to be for even a second of their life if his assumption proved true. But he had no choice but to guess that if Rycklid could force him to undergo those terrors, he used the same powers on Diana. But as he dug deeper through these unsettling thoughts, he remembered an important one.

"Oh, and there was a woman!"

"A woman?" Citrus folded her arms, looking at her brother impatiently. "This wasn't one of your wet dreams, was it? I thought you were past this phase already."

"Wha... no! Of course not!" His face lit up like a traffic light as he glanced at Diana. But instead of laughing at his embarrassment, she locked eyes on the floor, gently scratching her lip. Ian's seen this reaction before.

Curiosity?

Maybe she hoped he'd continue describing whatever dream he had with this mysterious lady. The thought bewildered him.

There's no way in hell she's curious about my sexual fantasies. Stupid brain! Shut up!

Diana seemed to notice his inner struggle, looking as if to question her face before looking away. Citrus, arms still crossed, watched the two as if it were a tennis match, their reactions being their returning hit. Bringing her hand to her face, she attempted to wipe the exhaustion away. "Can you continue, please?"

"Huh?"

"About the girl, Ian! About the girl!"

"Oh... Oh, right!" He coughed a few times, trying to ignore the fact that they'd just witnessed this embarrassing display he showcased, and got back on track. "Yes, there was a woman, actually, we were all there, as different chess pieces. And if I had to take a guess, she represented the queen."

"The queen? She must be hot shit if she's above me!" Citrus appeared genuinely astonished that an individual she has never encountered could be positioned at a higher rank. It's almost as if she was under the impression that such a scenario was implausible. Ian has never witnessed this aspect of his sibling, however, it is probably due to the fact that he has never seen her occupy any place other than first.

Spelling bees, she crushed internationals. Writing contests, that's how she got her first book deal. Even bake-offs got her state recognition. But she'd found the secret to studying and retaining information, at least is what she told him, and that was her weapon. She would never straight up tell him the trick, but he knew she'd stumbled him in the right direction once or twice. Any form of card game, board game, or video game, she just always seemed leagues ahead. But, whatever this game of chess represented, it was clear to them both she was meant to be portrayed outside of her element.

And this did not surprise him. How could it? To him, she always fell into the category of know it all. Busy body in the best way possible. But, this is the occult and though she knew about the topic enough to actually get him some answers, it's still a new field for her. And whoever this queen piece is, this is her turf. Someone who could not only pull the strings of a powerful entity but attach it to someone else like a puppet show meant business. But one answer he was hoping to get still remained a complete mystery.

Why would someone do it?

"For not telling me much, I think Rycklid showed me a lot. Opened my mind to what kind of world we're dealing with."

"Who were the other pieces?" Citrus interrupted his self-given head massage. He looked over at her, then brought his hand down to his chin, thinking back to the individual pieces. After the board fell, he remembered both the black and white sides mirrored each other. The struggle was trying to discern who belonged to what title of each piece within the game itself.

"Well, if the woman represented the queen. Then I'd have to say Diana probably represented the king." A glare shot across the room, locking onto Diana. Citrus held her eyes on the girl, likely loathing another individual that ranked above herself. Diana, waving her arms frantically, insisted that, "it's just a dream, it doesn't mean anything." But that wasn't enough of an excuse for Citrus, the daggers in her eyes remaining locked on target.

"And I guess I was the knight, and you were the bishop."

She fell into despair. "Oh, how far I've fallen!"

"Oh! And Rycklid's a piece. He represented the pawns." Counting her fingers, Diana ascertained the information given. She started again, then once more, then tapped her fist against her open palm.

"Then who's the castle?"

"You mean the rook," Citrus said as she continued to mope, her face now covered by a throw pillow.

Ian thought about it, matching up the pieces in his head once more. Sure enough, she was right. They were missing the rook. Ian rattled his head, remembering every instance he could of that moment.

"Ah! There was a castle!" Opting to side with Diana's title of the piece for strictly supportive reasons. Citrus seemed too distracted to force the issue any further anyway. "I didn't see who it was, but from the back of the piece, it seemed they were wearing a suit!"

Diana stared at him in amazement at his ability to remember details even in the tensest of situations. But as they both stood looking at each other in joy over this successful reconnaissance mission, it became apparent that they didn't have much to work with. Speechless, Citrus took this opportunity to drag her feet over to the both of them and start to physically suggest the two of them move up the stairs.

Upon reaching the top, stepping into the hallway, Citrus slammed the basement door behind them, locking herself in her dungeon.

They both looked at each other, smiling nervously. First over the confusion of Citrus's attitude, then at the fact they were staring at each other. All the poor memories they'd experienced up till now locked themselves away as they stared into each other's eyes. They looked away from each other, then both attempted to speak, only to awkwardly insist the other go first. After much polite debate and bickering, Ian took the mantle and initiated.

"Would you like me to take you ho—" But just as he was about to finish, a device vibrated against his leg. Holding his hand to her as a form of apology, he lifted his black case covered phone from his pocket. He woke the screen, finding a text message notification. As he swiped it, the message popped open, but as he read it, his knees quivered.

From Citrus: She's staying with us for a bit. Same room as before. Give her my clothes.

His jaw unhinged, plummeted through the air, and crashed through the floor.