Voices on the Wind { e r e m i n }

proem: goodbye

Blonde hair pours onto his desk like a waterfall, simple rubber band to hold it back proving inaffective. Oceanic eyes focus on his schoolwork, a variety of math problems the boy hasn't any troubles understanding. He can hear his mother downstairs, in the basement, playing with their Ouija board -- the one he'd warned her to stop using. He had no way of knowing what she was opening, but he knew it was something sinister. And it wouldn't be long until she would force him to become her text subject; until he would have to go head to head with demons, as she had forced his father to.

For now, though, he didn't have to worry about that. All he had to worry about were the math problems he was nearly finished with, and the task of making himself something for dinner. There was no doubt in his mind his mother would be holed in the basement for the rest of the night, opening a portal or the other side.

He continues to scribble down answers, a dull ache in his hand as he writes the last answer on the paper. Breathing out slowly, he drops the pencil onto the desk, shutting his eyes and leaning back in his chair. Downstairs, his mother has gone silent; he wonders if she's trying to summon the most evil of demons into their house, again.

After a few minutes, he trails downstairs quietly, light on his feet as always. He digs though the pantry, finding some bread and continuing his search to the refrigerator. In there, he finds a bottle of cola and peanut butter. He makes a sandwich, sitting at the table and beginning to nibble at his meal. It strikes him that he had not been as hungry as he'd assumed before.

A shriek erupts from the basement, and the blonde is out of his seat and running down to the basement, fast as possible. Blue eyes search; it's dark, no lighting but a few candles placed in a circular format around a small desk.

"Hello?" He calls, voice echoing and bouncing back to him.

There isn't a reply, until his mother screams, "Armin! I've taken it too far, Armin, please you have to get to the board and say goodbye!"

With what little knowledge he has concerning Oujia boards, he knows that the only way to cut off connection between the two worlds is to say goodbye. His legs are shaking horrifically as he steps towards the desk, eyes sweeping over nothing but darkness until they land on the Oujia board. The breath is knocked out of him as he sits, heartbeat loud as two of his fingers brush against the wooden planchet. A chill runs up his spine as he hears his mother cry out from somewhere across the room.

"Quickly, Armin! They'll get you next if connection isn't cut off right now!"

He's shaking so badly he doesn't know if he'll be able to do this, but he has to be able to; his life, and his mother's life, are in his hands. So, gathering small bits of Oujia board knowledge, he moves the planchet around the board once, to signify one player. Instantly, a hand slams over his, preventing him from moving the piece to goodbye.

Breathe. Blink. Open your eyes.

Heart pumping, he looks up. Lifeless eyes stare back at him, spirit smiling so cruelly he fears he's going to drop dead without another move. It grins; the same playful one his mother had once worn. "Yes, dearest Armin, go on and move the planchet to goodbye."

"Mother -- I couldn't save you in time!"

Her head curves to the side, grin growing wider. "A shame you didn't."

He tries, with all his power, to move the planchet under her grip. But he can't; she's too strong. With all of his power, he continues his struggle, but she's still staring at him. A look in her eyes that shows she's entertained by his attempts.

"You can't do it."

And then, her hand has moved from his. He's scrambling to move the piece to goodbye, but he cannot before two hands place themselves on his head and snap it to the side. With a gasp, he takes his last breath, blue eyes closing and head falling onto the desk. His body goes limp; his mother, or what had once been his mother, grins widely.

"Goodnight, Armin."