„We're doomed."

Chapter 23

Myron looked back to Devil's Acre one more time.
He knew he should join them and help them, he even wanted to, but something was keeping him from doing so.
And then he did it. Myron took the first step towards his brothers fortress and kept walking.
Myron was afraid, that if he would try to fight against him, he would get killed. Which was possible, but fighting against Caul might be better than betraying the people, who once called him a friend.
He wasn't doing this, because he thought what his brother was doing was good, no he never thought about it like that. But because he was afraid of him. Now, he was even more afraid of Caul than he was before.
Of course, their powers had almost the same strength, but still, Myron was afraid.
What if he couldn't do it? What if he was about to fight, but then he would have to stop, because a sudden feeling of fear comes over him?
It was only this one time, in Abaton. That was the only time he managed to fight against him. Apart from that, he never really did something about his brother.
Especially, the times where he really should have done something.
The times, where he watched his brother abusing their sister.

„You're the reason why our parents chased us away from home, Alma! It's all your fault!"
Myron could hear his brother shouting from another room, his voice filled with hatred. His sister was crying. He could hear her shaky voice, whenever she pleaded for her brother to stop.
He walked through the long corridor, getting closer to the room, where the two voices were coming from.
„Look at you! You're weak! Shouldn't you be strong and confident, if you're going to take care of a group of children someday?" Jack said to her, mockingly. „You'll never be a good ymbryne."
Myron arrived at the door frame and when he saw Jack hitting her, he flinched slightly.
He wanted to do something, but he couldn't.
Myron just stood there, frozen in time, as if someone was holding him back from running over to them and help Alma.
His brother turned around, smiling.
„Oh hello, Myron! It's so nice to see you joining us!"

A flock of birds accidentally flew into his face, interrupting his thoughts.

Yes. He knew now what to do.
And yes, Myron was going to continue his way to Caul's fortress. Not to join him and his cruel intentions, but to try and stop him once again.
Now he wanted to change something, he wanted to be useful, to do something good.
Now he wasn't afraid anymore. Myron knew he could die trying, but at least he wouldn't disappoint anyone. Not his friends at least.
He might've redeemed himself already, but if he did it once, he could do it again.
Myron wanted to do this for them, for his sister.

//

The group, Sharon and Desmond were leading, became even larger.
More and more people began to join, even though it wasn't really surprising, since the most of them would have done anything for ambrosia.
Sharon could even convince some of them to grab some kind of weapons, at which they grabbed their pitchforks.
Even though a few wights already noticed the riot, they kept on marching towards Caul's fortress.
All of them were singing songs at the top of their lungs, so everyone could hear it.
They held up their arms, turning their hands into fists and others were holding up their weapons.
"We're almost there!" shouted Sharon and everyone looked straight forward to the fortress.
Other slum dwellers, who didn't join their riot yet, carefully looked out of their windows. Sometimes the group was lucky and one, two or three of them joined, but not everyone was brave enough.
The crowd was already big enough to distract Caul and his wights. Hopefully.

//

"What is going on out there?" Caul asked with his dangerously glowing eyes, looking down at the wight.
"They're doing some kind of riot, trying to rebel against us!" the man said, still breathing heavily.
"Well, they won't come far..." said Caul. Then he turned his head to the rest of his men. "Take your weapons and show them, that they shouldn't mess with us. I'll come too, if something goes wrong."
Then the wights saluted and wandered off, through the large door.
The door closed again, leaving Caul with five or six other guards inside the big hall.

Caul was just standing there, in the middle of the hall, thinking.
The guards were looking up at him slightly, waiting for him to say or to do something.
Suddenly, a hand, the same size as Caul's hands, closed itself around his neck, dragging him backwards.