No Control (Chris Motionless)

Chapter 53 - The Ritual

In my moment of relief, I glanced down at the plaque beside the statue, and the words etched into it sent ice through my veins. The plaque had nothing to do with the original Eleanor's Cross. It was just meant to explain that it had been there at all, so I had nothing to complete the binding ritual with. Tears welled in my eyes at this horrible truth.

Even though it was clear that William had no clue what was distressing me, he could clearly sense my defeat. His clawed hand reached for me like a predator prowling toward tired prey.

The blast of the gun sounded almost far off to my own ears.

Stumbling back, his hands scrambled to the hole in his abdomen. New blood slowly oozed from the wound as if trying to slow his downfall. My hands shook as I still gripped the gun to the point of hurting. It almost felt as if I was the one possessed now. As if someone else had taken the shot. 

But there was no denying it: I had been the one to stop William this time around. By killing Chris. 

"I'm sorry," Is all I can manage to choke out. 

His head snapped up in my direction, and the face I'd come to love stared back at me. Chris sinks to his knees, and the air rattles in and out of his lungs. Human once more, his features take a different monstrous turn as they twist in anguish. 

Relief hits me like a train as I approach him, my limbs moving in odd jerks as if I were a marionette.

"He's still in here; don't come any closer," Chris warns, holding up his crimson-stained hands, claws still protruding from his fingers. "Just wait until it's over. He's getting weaker."

I instantly understood what he was saying, and my mind kicked into overdrive. A weak plan came to mind: "We can still get him out. I just have to get you to the Eleanor Cross."

Chris let out a wet cough. "What's that? How is that going to help?"

Knowing his voice was sounding more hoarse by the second, I ignored his warnings to stay away and wrapped my arm around him. As I lifted him onto unsteady feet, I explained, "It's something that Kim told me about. I don't think it's safe to explain yet, but as soon as we free you, I'll tell you everything."

Silence filled the air as I forced him to much busier streets. To my relief and surprise, the people walking around late at night gave us a wide birth. Several hurried off with their phones pressed to their ears. I could only hope they were calling the cops or, better yet, an ambulance. As soon as this was over, we would need it.

"We're almost there," I reassure him as his body sags more and more against my own, but his only reply is a soft groan. "I'll let you sit and rest as soon as we arrive. I have to set up a few things anyway."

Panic tightened my throat at how quiet he was, but I forced it away with all my might as I finally spotted the towering monument.

Please work, please let this be enough. I wordlessly pleaded, praying for all that I was worth.

The shouts of the strangers around us had me cringing away from the sound. Any of them could attack us. They could be a part of what was left of the JTR Movement. Roy could be hot on our heels. But I pressed on, knowing I had no other choice.

At the base of the statue, I propped Chris up against it. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of the blood trail that came after us and the swiftly growing puddle beneath Chris. I was fighting time itself at this rate, so logic threw itself out the window as I gripped the filet knife I had miraculously kept. The dirty blade stung as I dragged it across my forearm, allowing the growing drip of my blood to fall into the pool of Chris's.