500 - Part I - Distorted Shadows and Monsters

Chapter XII - The Release

CJ fiddled with the keys jangling on his strange leather belt, loosely wrapped around his waist. It lay there limp, but as he touched the keys once more, the belt slid further down, much to his annoyance. "Having a good time there, Carter?" Terry piped up. CJ only shrugged. He blocked out all their noise and focused on the task at hand. The longer they laughed, cried and shouted, the more he anticipated just leaving them in there for another day. Maybe longer. The thought was dark, but CJ's mind was darker. Far darker. He pushed against the idea and awkwardly jammed a golden key into the keyhole. All fell silent and CJ's ears were in heaven. However, at the same time, the silence was eerie. Loud. Powerful. Impactful. You couldn't escape it.

CJ tried again. Nothing like before. The gate creaked, like those doors in old horror movies. The cliché sound of some figure creeping around the corner, praying upon young children. Preparing to snatch their lives. Carter shivered at the connection, but dismissed it once again. He wasn't the bad guy here, nor was Brielle, nor Terry. Daniel. Hmmm. Nah, he was just a kid. A kid like him. If Daniel was evil, then CJ was certainly villainous. A life-stealer, a death-lover, a kill-devotee he would be.

"The silver key might work," Terry stated dryly. CJ didn't look at him or say anything. Terry to him was like a little ladybird on the floor that you couldn't decide whether you wanted to release or kill. Taking an insect's life didn't seem good or bad anymore. It seemed an unspoken act that lied somewhere in the back of everybody's minds. But a life. CJ knew life was precious. "I don't think that'll work." CJ was definitely not alright: he had heavy bags under his eyes and his nose looked all wrinkled. His breathing was too fast for any human. Superhuman. He had a rapid heartbeat of a vicious creature. Or one that was about to be swallowed. A crocodile? An eagle? A door mouse? "Silver will work," Terry argued irritably, "Try it, Carter. How can you say it won't work when—"
"Stop calling me Carter!" CJ yelled mightily, the scream tearing from his throat. He clicked his tongue, panic rising like a tidal wave and washing against his limbs. The fear building up inside of him all spread outwards, fear an infectious disease. Terry looked even sharper, even meaner now. His features weren't relaxed at all. "I said try the silver, idiot. You heard me. Don't you have ears now, shouty Carter?"
"Don't say anymore," CJ whispered, his heart still like a beating drum anthem. It was strong and fierce, like the clashing rain against dirt in the jungle. He could almost hear it outside of his body, pumping blood and pumping anger. CJ wasn't anywhere near himself, but he just simply didn't give a second thought about it. CJ was CJ, whether he was cheerful or an absolute moron. Daniel too had just had to accept this version of himself, as the original that everybody remembered was now forgotten. Like a classic, retro game replaced by the new, best gadget. Except before was much better. That's how the two boys understood it. That's what it meant to just about everyone now.

CJ did try the silver one and it didn't work, much to his own satisfaction. However, his lips remained in a straight line and he didn't crack one smile. Neutral face. He was about to have a go at Terry, but he chose against it. Terry and him had to break the ice, not create more layers of quarrels between them. "The red one?" Brielle mumbled, hoping not to receive same response as Terry did. Wordlessly, CJ did as asked. He carefully slid the scarlet one into the keyhole and turned it anti-clockwise a few times. The gate, fortunately, slid open, with another harsh noise that made all of them cover their ears quickly. Still silently, Brielle, Terry and Daniel stepped out and stretched their limbs. "A thank you would've been nice," CJ uttered, hardly able to contain his annoyance.
"You answer to Grayden," Terry snapped, "You wouldn't care if we were still on the other side or not."
"Terry," whispered Bri, attempting to calm down the tension of the boys. It didn't work. "I would care, actually."

CJ dragged his belt all the way down and stepped out of it. The tall boy carried it in one hand and closed the gate with the other. The sound made Terry yell in outrage. Holler. Scream. Wail. "Terry," CJ stated peacefully, "It really wasn't that bad." Little did he know, he was shouting.
"Definitely deaf," spoke up Daniel. Terry nodded in agreement. "Lunatic, that one, I'm telling you." Hearing this, CJ stomped off like the villain in a cartoon. His shoulders were hunched, his arms stiff by his side and his legs all bent and crooked. It was as if he was about to run off and grab something. Someone. Daniel looked away. The decision he had to make could wait until another day. Terry or CJ. CJ or Terry. They both seemed as bad as each other. "Now he's gone, we can clear off from here too," grumbled Terry, glaring at CJ's shape decreasing in size as he trudged along the corridor and descended down a short staircase.
"Which way do we go?" Brielle asked sweetly.
"The other," Terry grunted. Daniel couldn't wait until everybody just stopped annoying the other. It was like he and Brielle were the mediators of these arguments. It was either that or the mother and father of a whole bunch of rascals for kids. "He doesn't work for Grayden," Brielle told Terry. Daniel was awaiting another kick-off from his...friend. Yes, friend. Friend? "I don't care, Bri. Child or member of S.C.R.A.T.C.H., he is still bad. Terrible even." Daniel was wondering about something, but shoved it back to his thinking space, whilst they traversed another seemingly endless corridor. This was section H. You could see by the letter painted in red paint, they presumed. Not something else. No. There was a strip of flashing magenta light, bright and neon like street signs in bustling Tokyo. It was silent here. There maybe been children elsewhere, but it was just the girl and two boys currently here. "Is there any windows?" Brielle wondered, but it was more of a question to herself.
"It's obvious," Terry faced Brielle, "There's no windows. Only darkness. He wouldn't want you to see the outside, because apparently it's 'worse than here'."

The mention of using the pronoun 'he' seemed to ease the minds of the children. Grayden was something mostly unspoken of, except for the brave ones. Shadow had become a nickname for the doctor. The second day, Terry had heard a mentioning of the term. It was a girl with what looked like a thousand freckles. She also had mangled hair and a wart on her nose. But it was not her appearance that made Terry cringe, but every time he saw her, she burst out in sobs and he didn't know how to comfort her. Maybe that's why he'd used to keep his mouth shut. Supposedly, if he couldn't help people, he didn't want to make matters worse. Now he couldn't help himself, much like CJ. This new situation had brought out the worst in them. Two innocent boys turned wicked by the wickedness of a wicked other. You often saw people crying, but this girl's cries made Terry's heart wrench, like a spanner twisting around a bolt. It didn't loosen his worries, but only tightened them and squeezed the hope out of his eyes. She only looked about nine. Most people here were teens. The responsibility of maybe looking after her put Terry in a lot of discomfort and under a mountain of pressure. Nobody was with her at the time. It was just him staring at he girl. Bertha was her name. Terry had heard her repeating it under her breath over and over again, like a constant wind-up music box. Whether it was actually the little girl's name, Terry didn't know. It could've been her sister, mother, aunt, grandma or a friend. Somebody important, that was for sure. If nobody was willing to look after the kid, Terry would have to step in, most likely against his will. After all, a few boys had come to him before, all demanding answers for their countless questions of whats, hows and whys. Maybe because he was older. He didn't know. Daniel would be a lot better at the role, he thought.