unholy (joshler)

chapter eighteen

"So, what are you giving him again?" Tyler asks Dallon who's crushing the green herbs and rolling them into a joint.

"It's called Curare. This version is pot Curare. Protocuridine to be exact. It was first made in India to shoot enemies and paralyze them. Some of the Curare it toxic, as in it'll kill you, and some isn't. This, isn't." He explains, turning and handing the joint to Josh.

Tyler takes it and inspects it.

"What if you mixed it up and got the toxic one instead?" He sniffles it and makes a face. Dallon rolls his eyes and hands it back to Josh.

"Because I only have the nontoxic kind you dingus." Chris hops off of Josh's desk and makes his way to the small group. Josh is sitting on the bed, the others standing around him.

The room is tense, nobodies really said anything about yesterday's outburst.

"How do you have any at all?" Chris questions. Dallon shrugs.

"I know some people."

"Of course you do."

"How do I smoke this?" Josh asks innocently, staring up at the boys young eyes. Chris laughs.

"You're so innocent oh my God. You light it, then you inhale into your lungs. Simple."

"You're sure everyone's gone?" Tyler checks and Josh nods.

"Yep. Cindy is out with co-workers and Abby and Jordan are staying the night with my aunt Debby."

"How do we even know it'll come?" Chris asks and Dallon sighs.

"We don't. But we have to take the chance."

"Okay." Josh says simply and Dallon nods.

"You ready then?" Josh copies his movement, watching as Dallon lights the joint. Patting his back, he leaves the room.

Chris gives him a tight hug and a punch on the arm before leaving as well.

"Are you sure about this?" Tyler asks again, his voice shaky and scared.

"Yes." Josh fakes confident. Tyler sees right through him.

The boy leans down and places a hand flat over the feather that still lays under Josh's shirt, pressing it against his skin.

"I love you." He says, but this time it's more of a promise. You'll make it back, and I'll be here for you.

"I love you too." Tyler kisses him quickly before slipping out of the room and shutting the door.

It takes three tries for Josh to get the smoke into his lungs, but when he does he coughs it out as soon as he can.

After a few more tries he gets it down and soon the whole thing is gone. Laying under the covers he waits for the affects.

It feels like hours before anything happens. The room suddenly gets very hot and at first he thinks it's because of the drugs but when he sees the wall start to morph he knows it's something more.

He tries to move his hand, to wipe some sweat away, but he finds his body immobile. The Curare worked.

Josh squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn't want to see the thing, not at first.

Suddenly his body is being picked up, a sob caught in his throat. The hands are slimy and cold, like moss in the winter. A humid, damp feeling washes over his entire body before it sticks to him like a suit.

He's in the Underworld, he can feel it.

A cold hum runs against his eardrums. He can feel colors and without opening his eyes, he knows everything is black and white.

There's millions of them. Ange De La Mort's that is. He can feel them too.

When he finally gets the courage to open his eyes he's absolutely terrified.

The terrain is desert, millions of demons crawling around. The humidity is suffocating as the demon carries him in further. There's blood on the floors. It's black but it's there, Josh knows.

He looks up to find the face of the demon starring back at him. It's absolutely terrifying and Josh wants to sob but again he can't move, he can't open his own mouth.

It's at that point that things get overwhelming. His own skin starts to melt, ripping away from his bones painfully. He's screaming internally, he can feel his own death almost as suffocating as the humidity.

His eyes burst, blood pouring down his face. His fingernails fall off one by one. Soon he's nothing but bone, an empty vessel.

The Ange De La Mort smiles sickening, all teeth no gums.

And then he's out.