flames | The Lost Boys (1987) | revised

| SEVENTEEN |

I grunted lowly as I picked at the flooring beneath me, my fingernails digging harshly into the rotting wood. I could hear space between the flooring and the ground when I knocked on it, I just wasn't sure if the space was big enough for me to crawl through. There was still a chance, though.

Peter - or, now, Oliver, I suppose - had only come back once since the last time. He had placed a plate of food and an unopened water bottle beside my bed and then left again once I wouldn't move. The food looked delicious, just mashed potatoes and ham, but I couldn't be sure that it didn't have poison or sedatives in it.

I tried pulling at the floor again only to cry and fall back as one of my fingernails bent in a way that it was definitely not supposed to. I nursed my hand to my chest and leaned against the wall. I felt numb. I had cried so much recently that I wasn't sure I could do it again, but then, my mouth started hurting an incredible amount. It hurt so much that I lunged forward as if it would help, cupping my mouth and pressing my fingers to my teeth. I wasn't sure how it was happening, but four of my front teeth were changing, switching to become sharper, longer.

I had waited for what felt like so long for this to happen, but now? Here of all places? My heart yearned for my boys, for them to be here with me during this, but I doubt they knew where I was. Hell, even I didn't know where I was.

It was so quiet here; it made me uncomfortable. The cave had so many little noises that I had taken for granted, noises that made it feel like home. Like the sound of Dwayne's skateboard on the rock flooring, or the sound of whatever Marko was using to make artwork at the time. There was the sound of old pages turning time and time again. The gentle hum of David's music whenever his ears started messing up again. A drag of a cigarette and the low exhale. Clinking of metal when someone moved in their seat. Fluttering of bird wings. There were so many little sounds, but it was silent here. Even Oliver didn't make a sound. I almost believed he wasn't here.

I had almost drifted off to sleep, content with being in pain and sadness, when I heard a faint voice at the back of my head. I wiped my face, sure I was hallucinating, but it was real, a tugging of a voice that devolved into yelling, all in my mind. 'Ivy?' The voice was questioning, almost in disbelief, and then it was frantic. 'Ivy? Baby, can you hear me? Just think of an answer to respond. I'll hear it.' It was David, clear as day.

'I think I'm going insane,' I thought.

There were a few moments of silence and then he was back. 'You're not insane. I promise. What happened? Where are you?' A pause. 'How are you in the mindlink?'

'How do I know you're real? What if this is all just made up. I'm going insane here.'

'You're not crazy, darling, I promise. I can link the others; do you want to talk to them? It'll only take a second.'

I wasn't even sure what that meant, but I responded before I could think about it. 'Please, I want to hear all of y'all.'

It was quiet, and then it was incredibly loud, multiple voices talking at once, talking over each other. I could barely make out what one person was yelling over the other. I leaned forward with my hands clutching my head. 'Shut up!' I yelled, and they all went quiet almost instantly. 'I'm sorry, but you're all so loud, I feel like I'm going to get a migraine, and I don't want that added to the pain I'm already in. This is all a shock.'

Paul's voice was incredibly quiet when he spoke up. 'Pain?'

I sniffled. 'I did it to myself trying to get out, but it didn't really work. Just fucked up my hands.' I flexed my fingers and then sighed. 'How are you all here. How am I talking to you? What's going on.'

'It's the mental link we talked to you about in the laundry mat. How we can talk to each other no matter where we are.'

I had forgotten about that completely. 'Well, then, how am I here? I wasn't beforehand.'

'Did you drink blood?' David pressed, 'Even without knowing?'

'I haven't eaten or drinken anything since they took me, but I was just sitting here, and I hurt myself, and then my fangs were growing out. I don't know what I did, but it hurt a lot.' My head was filled with voices again and I clutched my temples, closing my eyes. 'Please, calm down,' I whimpered. 'You guys are hurting me. I'm not used to this.'

Everyone went quiet, and then Dwayne spoke. 'Do you know where you are? What's going on? Anything that could help us?'

'Not really. Can you guys just hear my thoughts, or can you see everything in my head?'

David was the one to answer. 'Anything that goes on. It's normally limited to just thinking, but it can expand to us seeing memories you want us to, or even seeing what you see, but that would take a minute to learn.'

'So, if I tried to think of everything that's happened since I woke up, would y'all be able to see it?' There was a chorus of affirmations, and then silence as I tried to remember everything that happened, sending it out like waves. Marko wasn't kidding when he said it was a weird feeling - someone being in your head. It was as if we were all different oceans clashing at a fault line, sending waves crashing over to the other. It made me feel lightheaded after only a few moments. 'Is that worth anything?' I questioned once I had gone through everything I remembered.

'Isn't that the house we hid in for a few days like two years ago, David?' Marko's voice piped up. 'I feel like it is.'

'Oh, the one at the edge of town towards Newmensburg? With the really nice basement?' There was a couple of 'yeah's thrown around. 'I completely forgot about that place. I definitely think it could be it. It's got the same busted window frames. Isn't that the house you put a hole in the side of?'

'Last time he drinks whiskey,' Paul snickered. 'Not as bad as when Dwayne stashed a body there.'

'Where else was I supposed to put it? Was I supposed to fly for a full hour just to get to the ocean? You know I hate flying.' Dwayne seemed annoyed that the topic was brought up.

'Easier than digging that hole,' Paul jabbed.

I settled against the wall, content just listening to them talk. Unfortunately, the short-lived moment was ruined by Oliver opening the door. He had another plate in his hand, but his eyes immediately fell on the untouched plate from earlier. "Not hungry," he mused, his lips curling up into a sadistic smile. "I thought you would be with all the blubbering you've been doing in here."

I stammered over my words for a few moments, not sure how to reply, but he didn't seem to mind.

"No matter, I brought you a new plate, and you're going to eat this one. You'll need your energy for tomorrow."

He placed the plate down beside me and moved to leave when I spoke up. "Tomorrow?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "You can't be serious? You've already forgotten? The full moon is tomorrow, little birdie." My blood went cold. I hadn't realized it was so close. "You should get some rest. You'll certainly want it; after all, once you're one of us, you certainly won't be able to sleep. The dead don't rest." He moved to shut the door only to pause half-way. "Oh, and don't fuck this up for me, Wendy. Making me angry will do no good - only make things much, much worse."

I swallowed and nodded. He looked unsure at my response but still left with a slamming of the door followed by him locking it. I stared at the food, unsure. I was starving, but-

'You can eat it,' Dwayne said. 'Don't worry.'

I nodded and picked up the fork, pressing into it. Mac and cheese. As I began to eat, I sniffled quietly. 'What are we going to do, boys?'

'We'll think of something. I promise. Let's put our heads together. We can do this.'