The Fall (Revised)

Chapter Eight

I awake groggily, unaware of my surroundings, my head is spinning and my stomach is nauseous.

 Where am I?

All of a sudden memories bombard me and I have to put my head in my hands to stop from throwing up.  I remember walking around the gala, talking to Bailey, talking to Jason, and then the man running in to announce the funeral for Fallon...

But what happened after that?

We did something bad- something really bad... Irky mutters in the back of my head and I can almost picture her pacing around.

"What did we do Irky?" I ask in a hoarse voice, slightly scared of the answer. I immediately cough after I talk. My throat starts to feel as if it is throbbing, telling me that I need water ASAP.

Something bad. Something that will harm us in ways you don't understand yet.

A pang of fear goes through me but before I can agnowledge that my throat acts up again. I need water, now. Finally I start to pay attention to my surroundings and find that I am in the room in the back of the temple. A bedside table I don't remember being there, stood tall with a glass of clear liquid on top.  I don't know if it is water, but I really hope so. Slowly, I lift my hand to grasp it, but my energy is so depleted that I never make it to the glass. My arm flops down in exhaustion, not wanting to continue the journey to the glass, to my throats salvation.

"Ah, you're awake," chills are sent down my back as I look for the source of the voice. I don't know who it is, and from the reaction my body had, I don't want to know either.

As I look around to pin point where the voice's source is, I notice how depleted my energy really is. Black spots keep flashing in my vision, not allowing a full picture to form. When I finally make my way to looking at the side where the door is, my breath catches in my throat. 

The man in the corner is blanketed in shadows, they seem to follow him as if the shadows were just his puppets, and him the puppeteer. His mear presence made me want to curl up in a ball and cry my heart out, it's as if he was sadness and fear itself. He let off the feelings in waves, so strong that while I wnt to cry, I want to scream in terror.

I shake like a leaf under his gaze and I attempt to look away, but his eyes suck me into them like a black hole. I am the light unable to escape it's pull, knowing that I am doomed any moment to spend my eternity in a dark world. I could stay in his eyes forever and never be found, I could stay lost forever. That sounds nice- being lost. Not having to do anything but float... and float... and float...

Look away! You must look away!

Irky's frantic voice shook me out of the trance. Her voice bounced around in my head, not allowing me to forget her words. Why doesn't she just take over? If she knows how to deal with this- this monster, then why doesn't she take control. 

I can't believe I just wished for Irky to take away my control, I really have gone insane.

I can't come out... Joden and I go way back, he has a hold over me. Now an even bigger hold due to what we just did... Oh no, what we just did! 

What did we just do, Irky? And how do you know Joden?

The dark being now I know is Joden, stares at me intently. Not wanting to be sucked into his eyes again, I stupidly close them. If I can't see him then he isn't there, right?

Irky avades my questions and tells me, Open your eyes and repeat what I say to you. Tell him: 'What do you want, Joden?'

I do as Irky commanded me and say, "What do you want, Joden?" A fit of coughing follows as my throat contracts in disagreement for my talking. I really wish I grabbed the glass earlier.

Joden sneers, his jet black hair swaying with his head and his black eyes continueing to stare right into my soul. He replies, "Irky, nice to see you again. Metaphorically of course, you aren't even really here. Tut tut tut, making a child do your bidding. And I thought I was the bad guy!"

Irky didn't speak up so I decide to ask a question of my own, my curiosity getting the better of me, "How'd you get here?"

"Oh, you don't know! Priceless! See, kid, there's three types of magic. Your little Irky, she's light magic, and I'm dark, and then there grey, but we won't get into that. We can do each others types of magic if dire, but that will give the other side an advantage. And since one of you used dark magic to bring the boy back, I in turn was revived. It's great isn't it!"

Dark magic? That does not sound good... Wait... "the boy"? Did he mean Fallon? A cloud of guilt lifts off my shoulders, I didn't kill him! Well, I did, but he's alive again?

Confusing thoughts race through my head and I stutter, "Fallon- he's- he's alive?"

Joden looks at me and taps his chin, playing with me as a cat plays with a mouse. A cruel game, before the cat eats the mouse and walks away to find another victum. I look at the roof and I start to pray that he infact is alive.

"Fallon?" Joden taps his chin, taunting me. "I don' t think I know a Fallon..."

His eyes gleam with mischeif and he starts to pace the room, "I know a Josh, a Drake, a Sally, a Freddy, a Fadly, a Griphin... But no Fallon's..."

Why is he doing this? Maybe he just doesn't know Fallon's name, maybe Fallon didn't introduce himself. But why?

Because it's his nature, he is dark. He is mischief, he is torment. He is our complete opposite. It is in his nature to want to torment us. As it is in our nature to not like him. It is written in our genetic code. Something that was passed through the ages from Goddess to Goddess to Goddess.

Well, that sounds kind of complicated.

I tune out both Joden and Irky's babbling and I focus on grabbing the glass of clear liquid. My energy might be very low, but there is no way I am going to be deprived of a glass of what I think is water. My throat still hurts, especially from talking to Joden for a while there. My hand quivers and I continue to tune out Joden, focusing on grabbing the glass of water. My fingers grace the cool cup, and just as I am about to grab it, a voice I thought I'd never hear again questions, "Shelbey?"

My hand slams into the cup and it falls to the ground and shatters into a million pieces. I whip my head around momentarilly forgeting my nausia. It's him.

He has the same kind eyes, the same messy hair, and rumpled shirt that he always has. Tears form in my tearducts and I lowly ask, "Fallon?"