Unraveled Words

Patrick walked calmly off the dock, surely expecting Ryan to be right behind him.

“Hey, uh, Patrick?” Ryan called. His feet were still trapped in the wood, or whatever it was. Glancing back, Patrick rolled his eyes at the immobilized boy. With a wave of his hand, the dock released Ryan, although it kept his shoes. “Thanks.”

“Yep,” Patrick replied, walking again. Even though Ryan was most definitely taller than him, he was having a hard time keeping up. Noticing, Patrick slowed slightly. Once Ryan caught up and was able to find the right pace, he realized that Patrick wasn’t glowing. “That’s right. Only you and your little lilac boy can.”

“I don’t like when you do that,” Ryan muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets. He felt something scratch his fingers. Patrick glanced over at him with a scowl but said nothing. Wrapping his fingers around the mystery object, Ryan pulled it out of his pocket. It was a dried branch of lilac flowers, crumbling and falling apart, and automatically Ryan thought of Brendon, frowning.

“He’s not that great, you know,” Patrick said. “Brendon.”

The name sounded horrible coming out of Patrick’s mouth, and Ryan wished he would just stop saying it.

“He’s lying to you.”

“He can’t lie when he doesn’t tell me anything,” Ryan argued.

When Ryan chanced a glance at Patrick, he was caught up in the blue of his eyes.

“Why did you do it, Ry? Why?”

It was the voice of the blue-eyed boy from his dream, Ryan was sure of it, but he didn’t know what it meant. For a moment, it looked like Patrick wanted to say something, but he stayed silent, eyes facing forward, feet taking quick steps. Ryan looked forward as well, seeing the endless road, now falling apart and lined by barred walls.

“Where are we going?”

“Nine in the Afternoon,” Patrick answered. As soon as the words left his lips, the road ended. With everything he’d seen in Northern Downpour, Ryan didn’t think he could have been surprised anymore. What lay ahead of him, however, made him gasp.

A castle made of shiny black bricks dominated the scene, blocking out any of the gray light the sun was giving off. The towers were covered in silver spikes the whole way around, and Ryan had the feeling they weren’t completely stationary. Patrick stepped forward boldly, and a drawbridge crashed to the ground, allowing entrance into the menacing building. He glanced back at Ryan with a sharp gleam in his eyes, forcing his feet to move and follow into the darkness.

It was impossible to see; black clouds drifted in front of them, seeming to be guiding them deeper into what could only be called an abyss. Ryan felt his heart speeding with fear. Something horrible was happening inside. He didn’t know how he knew, but he was sure of it, and he was sure it had something to do with Brendon. Suddenly they stopped and the black clouds cleared. Ryan wished they hadn’t.

“Patrick,” a pleased voice said just as Ryan’s eyes were drawn to the man in front of them. The most striking thing about him was the smile painted over his lips, exaggerated and frightening as he grinned. “It’s been ages since your last visit.” He stood from the top of the stairs, a cape finding its way onto his shoulders, framing his head with a crest of spikes. His eyes flashed a golden light, not at all like Brendon’s. “And you brought Ryan.”

Patrick’s lips settled into a thin line as the mysterious man paced down the stairs to circle Ryan in a distinctly predatory manner. “I didn’t bring him for you. He wanted to see what this was.”

“Well, I suppose I'll have to be an even more gracious host. Welcome to my world, Ryan.”

“Who are you?” Ryan questioned, shrinking away from the glowing gaze.

“The Devil in the Belfry, of course. Since you’re a special guest, just call me Pete.”

“Are you the one that took Brendon?”

Pete’s grin fell until he was simply baring his teeth. “Don’t worry about little Brenny Bear. He won’t bother you anymore.”

“Where is he?”

“Ryan, Ryan, Ryan,” Pete said, obviously controlling his temper. Patrick took a step closer to Ryan protectively. “You must learn to ask less questions.”

Something lodged in Ryan’s throat, and he choked, hands flying to grasp his neck. He coughed, but the air stayed trapped in his lungs. Pete grinned again, watching Ryan double over, shoulders heaving with breath that wouldn’t come.

“Stop!” Patrick shouted, a clap of thunder resounding in the cavernous room. Turning his attention to the golden man, Pete cocked his head to the side, keeping his maniacal grin. “Leave him alone.”

Ryan fell to his knees, his face turning blue.

“Make me, Tricky,” Pete taunted. As Patrick started sparking, licks of lightning appearing at his fingertips, Ryan collapsed onto his side, his hands falling away from his throat. A bolt of light hit Pete straight in the chest, sending him shooting across the room. Ryan’s eyes closed.