The Broken Crystal

Chapter Twenty Two

It was already time for battle when they left Colorado Springs behind. Not theirs. No, their war would have to wait a second or two. Now it was all about the sun, about its struggle to rise up again as it ripped apart the darkness, whose contestants splattered all over the sky. Crimson blood and golden organs.

"We're almost there," Xavier said, his voice, just like his whole being, drowning in sweat. The fall from yesterday had claimed the boy as its property, creating a mark the colour of Old Berta's blueberry smoothie on his leg. And, even though he'd taken care of it at the restaurant, the pain refused to go away completely.

"I know. We've been here before." Crystal looked at the lake to her left. There were dead lives in the water. The people she'd killed. The things she'd witnessed. And in between them lay the body of a scared, broken girl that used to cry at the sight of flowers and treat freedom like a dog on the shortest, tightest leash.

Not anymore.

And still, a part of her felt as though she'd never escaped that lake. Instead she'd stayed there. Drowning. Calling out for help. Over and over and over again. But at least, she wasn't feeling like Dean did. The hand she was holding him by was limp; a lifeless skeleton. Which made sense, considering his eyes looked as if they were hiding the reaper himself. After a closer look and loads of searching, she had somehow found two little sparks in his green, green orbs. Although it seemed like they were coming from the reaper's eyes rather than Dean's own.

"I suppose there's no use in convincing you to stay behind," Xavier said, his already slow pace slowing to a stop. "Really think about this one, beca-"

Crystal crossed her arms. Dean gave him a look. "We're going in there, Xavier," they exclaimed in perfect unison.

Xavier bowed his neck as he sighed. Looked ahead as he shook his head. "Dean, there are guns inside my backpack, so make sure you have them all ready for usage. And you-" he turned to Crystal "-I trust you'll know how to navigate inside that place."

"Yes," she said. "Just tell us how to get in there."

The trees that surrounded them were beginning to get dressed in the sun's glow. Soon, as they all stood in their golden suits and dresses, they were ready to watch the upcoming show. Xavier had to remind himself that each of them was still a nightmare, a tortured daydream. And behind them stood a building. And the building had a big door and big, bloody lies splattered over the big, white floor. And everything was nice. And everything was white. And green and glowing.

And it made them all sick.

Xavier turned his gaze back to Crystal. "Use your supernatural speed," he said. "Get to the door before it closes behind me. Can you do that?"

"I think I can." There was no hesitation, no shattered glass in Crystal's voice.

"What about the cameras?" asked Dean.

"Actually, the cameras are the least of our problems," Xavier replied. A brief smirk. A long smile. "Savaine keeps them all in her main office. And no one has access there, not even my father."

"Great then," said Dean.

"Great," nodded Crystal.

"Great," agreed Xavier.

So why was the silence the only one who took another step forward? The others just stood there; in front of their past, which, not unlike a ghost, decided to occupy the space around them, filling it with the smells of horror and sleepless nights. And suddenly, the time decided it had to fit in, that it couldn't be the only thing that still made the slightest sense, so it changed, and soon, seconds were being measured by the ever-growing amount of the trio's bitten nails and racing breaths.