Rise of a Queen

Chapter 4

"Sadie ... take it easy." Eli instructed from just behind me, reaching around my body to pull the whisky bottle away, sparing my kidneys from a fifth overflowing shot in a matter of minutes. The last gulp of alcohol was still gliding down the back of my throat like syrup and it burned its way through my body like molten liquid as it settled at the bottom of my stomach, sloshing heavily from violent trembles that have barraged over my limbs since returning from the Crypt.

Lumiere was no better I; half a bottle of Jack Daniels later and he was pacing the room like an aggravated tiger, caged and pissed. But also ... scared. Very scared. I've never seen Lumiere so rattled as he was in this moment.

His only eye was wild and alarmed, darting in every direction while he circled the room as if he were holding consultation with every corner he approached though his audience remained silent and internal. The objects in the room said nothing, at least to my ears. But every crevice of this area held a special conversation with Lumiere, reminding him of memories he wouldn't soon forget. Memories that surrounded a particular man, a man we all thought to be dead.

Perhaps he still is. Just because there is no body doesn't mean Dustin is alive. But the walls spoke to Lumiere on whispers of premise, calling to him of auspicious favors that inspired hope of the impossible. For Lumiere, what we witnessed in the Crypt was enough. What further evidence could he ask for towards the survival of his friend, his brother? His leader?

None. Lumiere is convinced by now, and that is a very dangerous place to be. Because the only evidence against Dustin's passing is an absent body, nothing more. How can we possibly chase after a man only rumored to be alive when such rumors are only supported by something that isn't there, something that cannot be seen? There are many places to hide a body, so many places. But significantly less places to hide a living man. That is Lumiere's logic; we should search for the living rather than the dead.

But I am not yet certain and such uncertainty has brought me under the bottle where my tangling thoughts are a little less destructive because they are a little less coherent.

Beyond where Lumiere marched, Corinth leaned heavily against the wall, biting at her nails in furious haste while she burned holes in the ground with her unwavering stare. She hasn't said a word since we returned, although I can't imagine anything she or we could possibly say that might lessen the onslaught washing over her in this moment. Over us all.

Eli seemed to be the least affected, at least he displayed this sense of ease at a surface level. I suspect that his guise was only that, a mask; a blanket atop still water where currents of ungodly velocity tumbled and churned at a depth unseen by others. I've known Eli long enough to recognize his feigned serenity for the sake of Corinth, always for the sake of his beloved. Even now when the very thought of Dustin's survival had him crushed and mangled, still Eli remained composed because there isn't enough room for anyone else to shatter. Corinth has the right to break down, as does Lumiere.

Eli has more right than I and yet it is I who can hardly stand. It is I who has crumbled.

All the progress from these passing weeks, the walls I've built around myself to keep out my fear and agony now rained rampaging arrest over my heart and soul. I've sworn to be strong for those who looked up to me, but here I stand as though no progress was ever made. How is it that I hid my ruin from the world, from me as well, and still manage to fall prey to it?

I glanced towards Brandon, knowing he held the answers to all of my inquiries.

While we have been derived from sanity, Brandon took to the bench near the far wall, lounging across the squalid wood with his legs hooked on the armrest and his head braced against the back, fiddling his thumbs in his lap to keep himself busy. He's been quite patient with our deterioration since returning to the compound.