“What’s that?” the leader asked as he stood back up. The red eyes flashed again.
“Punishment,” Love said. “Whatever Logic told you was a lie. Your naivety has brought this upon yourself and your people. I will not protect you. Venture off to your oblivion.”
“Wait, my lord, we—”
The red eyes closed, but the outline remained.
Marigold saw the leader in the headdress look past her. Its scowling lips were on its forehead, its blue eyes on its chin.
“Fine,” the leader said after a moment. “If you won’t side with us, then we’ll take care of this ourselves. We don’t need you. We have no fear! Right, my brothers and sisters?”
There was silence amongst the flock.
“I said, ‘RIGHT, MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS?”
He flashed gold. All of their eyes flashed gold with him.
“Then let’s show Him who really runs this forest! Are you with me, brothers and sisters? Are you with me?”
There was a shout of assent and they all ran past the stump, howling. Suddenly, a shotgun boomed and something nearby exploded on Marigold. It was white and sticky and it landed all over her face and clothes. A headless body tumbled to the ground nearby and she screamed. In the distance, whatever rushed toward her was nearing. That’s when she heard it.
Somebody screamed her name.
Chapter Thirty
“Marigooooold!”
The red eyes returned for a moment and then, disappeared like a light switch turning off. The area beyond the trees was pitch black again. Love disappeared.
Another shotgun blast exploded and she heard a high pitched wail behind her and the sound of rushing feet. Lots of feet, like a scrambling mob at an outdoor concert.
She twisted on the stump and pulled. She had to get out of these ropes. She had to—
BOOM!
A piece of bark flew off a nearby tree, making one of the lanterns sway on a low branch.
“I’ll keep them off you. Get Marigold,” someone shouted. It was a different voice this time. It was strong, layered with power and fortitude. It sounded like her brother. But how was that possible? Was it Instinct again? But he was dead. She saw him die. Another shotgun blast lit up the darkness. The thunderous sound made her ears ring.
“Don’t worry about them, Jeff. I’ve got you covered!”
The name hit her in the heart like a lightning bolt: Jeff? Like my husband, Jeff?
Before she could even process it, there he was, rounding the stump. He huffed and held a flaming green machete. His shirt and face were covered with white splotches, bits and pieces of the people of lust.
“Jeff!” Marigold cried. “What are you doing here?”
“Baby,” he exclaimed.
He crawled on the stump and stabbed the flaming blade next to her. His arms swallowed her up in a giant hug so tight that she gasped.
He kissed her forehead, and at the sound of another shotgun blast, he kissed her lips. His tongue found hers and they swirled around like two snakes mating. She closed her eyes and time seemed to slow down. Even the shotgun blasts behind her seemed to drag out and elongate. His kiss took her breath away, and her underwear dampened again. But this time, it felt right. There were no inhibitions anymore. It felt safe and pure. She loved this man. She had always loved this man, from their first date to the last moment she saw him off to work that morning. She was his, and he was hers. They were one. They were all.
When she opened her eyes, Love stared at her again with its fiery, red eyes. She screamed into her husband’s mouth.
Haunt leapt up.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Behind you!” she shouted and there were two more shotgun blasts.
“Hurry up over there!” her brother’s voice shouted.
Haunt looked behind him, and the red eyes disappeared. Haunt pulled up the flaming blade, which seemed to glow around his hand rather than burn it, and began to cut the rope on her right wrist. Tears clung to his eyelashes. He wasn’t wearing glasses.
“How did you get here?” Marigold asked.
He didn’t respond. He cut her left hand free and then shuffled over to her right side. Before he could emancipate the other hand, a faceless, white being rushed out of the darkness. Its mouth was by its left ear and it screamed. It lunged onto the stump behind Haunt.
In one, even swing, Haunt beheaded him. Viscous white blood spurted out from the hole as the body went twirling off the stump. Marigold screamed.
“Jeff!” her brother’s voice shouted. “Get out of there!”
Haunt looked past her head and cringed.
“What? What is it?” Marigold asked.
Haunt looked down at her and then, raised the flaming blade in the air with both hands as if he was going to plunge it right into her heart. Marigold gasped.
He brought the blade down and it severed the rope around her right hand. He then crawled along the stump and cut her feet free. Marigold saw her brother coming for them. Green flames encircled his wiry body (So it was Instinct) and he rode an ostrich the size of a dinosaur.
Four of the white beings were ahead of him. The one in the headdress led the pack. Instinct raised his shotgun and brought one of them down with a shot to its back.
“Kill them both!” the one in the headdress screamed, and the two remaining servants launched themselves onto the stump. Marigold and Haunt rolled off, landing on their feet.
“Stay behind me,” Haunt said. He held up the flaming blade in front of his face. She put her hand to the small of his back.
The two servants rushed on the bark and leapt forward. Haunt slashed and gutted one in the air. Its innards oozed out of the thick slice. White blood gushed out in rhythmic squirts. Taking advantage of Haunt’s blindside, the other creature launched into him and caused a domino effect, knocking Marigold over as well. Once on the ground, the white figure picked her husband up and the one in the headdress stepped off the stump, coming down to their level.
A shot blasted the arm off the figure holding Haunt. The dead limb hit a nearby tree. Another blast blew the figure’s head off. It fell to its knees.
The leader with the headdress rushed in and hoisted Haunt by his arms. Holding him from behind, the leader placed the sharp, wooden edge of a piece of bark at Haunt's throat. Instinct jumped from the ostrich and pointed his shotgun in the leader's face.
“Drop it or I’ll send him into the darkness.” the leader said.
Instinct knelt down, placed the gun on the stump, and stood back up.
“If he dies, you all die,” Instinct said. “I’ll go through this forest and kill every last one of you. I don’t care how many of you respawn.”
“Kill me, and a thousand more will sprout up in my place,” the leader said. “The three of you won’t make it out of here alive.”
Instinct didn’t respond. He stood with his arms akimbo like a giant watching over a village that he was ready to stomp on.
“We’ll see about that,” Instinct said. “If you want to.”
“What are these people to you anyway?” the leader asked. “Why would you risk coming in here just for them?”
“You attacked me,” Instinct said. “You knew what you were up against when you saw me coming. You didn’t have to attack. You could have stopped them if you wanted to.”
“You arrogant bastard,” the leader spat. He turned and faced Marigold, his eyes narrowed as he glared and snarled at her before turning back to Instinct. “I was protecting my people. If you wanted to protect yours, then why did you let them come through here? Why didn’t you take them on your trail like you always do?”
“Yes,” the booming voice of Love said. “I wondered that myself, Instinct. Why is this woman here?”
Instinct took a knee and bowed his head.
“Lord Love,” Instinct said. “I beseech thee. Do not take your vengeance out on these people before you. Let us talk like the Archetypes we are and settle this. There is no need for any mor
e bloodshed tonight. Please, call off your man.”
“I never called upon him in the first place,” Love said.
“You didn’t?”
“No,” Love sighed. “Lust, drop your weapon.”
“But my Lord.”
“I said DROP IT!” Love’s voice boomed, shaking the trees.
The leader did what his god commanded. Once released, Haunt ran over to his Marigold, and they embraced.
They were as one again.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Love,” Instinct began, staring up at the outline. “If I could have avoided coming into your forest, I would have. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Please, accept my apology.”
The red eyes continued to bore down upon Marigold.
“Apology accepted. Now, why are you here?”
Haunt squeezed Marigold’s fingers with his cold hand.
“She’s beautiful,” Haunt whispered to his wife.
“Who is?” Marigold asked.
“Her,” he said, and he pointed up to the outline.
“It’s a long story,” Instinct continued. “But it involves the wife and her husband.”
“And Logic?”
“No.” Instinct said warily. “She has nothing to do with this. Why do you ask?”
Love shuffled a bit. The trees seemed to shuffle with him.
“Look, Instinct, I respect you,” Love said, its voice losing a bit of its edge. “I always have.”
“And I respect you, Lord Love.”
“Then be honest with me,” Love said. “Tell me what’s going on. Logic came here and told these fools to sacrifice this woman to me. Why might she have done that?”
“I don’t know,” Instinct said, but there was a perturbed quality to his voice. It wasn’t reassuring.
“Why do I feel like you’re lying to me?” Love asked.
“You can believe what you want and are welcome to it, Lord Love. But that still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know why Logic came through here. It doesn’t make any sense to me, either.”
“You know,” Love began again. “From where I stand, I could crush your people as easily as stepping on an ant.”
Haunt clutched Marigold tighter.
“That you could,” Instinct replied.
“And would you let me?”
“No. But you could try me if you want.”
There was more silence before Love began again. Each moment was torture for Marigold and Haunt. Every second was a chance to return back to the darkness, the one where neither ever wanted to return.
“You know, Instinct, even in your purest form, it would still be very difficult for you to take me down. Love will always be strong within mankind, and if we tangled, I would give you a fight you’d regret. Either one of us could fall. Would you be willing to make that sacrifice for these people? Would you be willing to die for them?”
“I’ve already come this far,” Instinct said, and the green aura turned to flames. He stared up at Love, his eyes locked on the giant towering over him.
Love chuckled. Its laugh echoed through the trees and sounded like rocks tumbling down a hill. Haunt held Marigold even tighter.
“You would risk yourself and the lives of countless others who come into the Landscape just for these two people?”
“I am not as you once knew me, Love,” Instinct said, and the green aura grew hotter still.
“So you are not,” Love said. “But tell me, is your old friend Imagination somehow involved in whatever you are keeping from me?”
The green aura faded almost immediately. Instinct crossed his arms.
“That is none of your concern,” Instinct said.
The leader of lust sneered and hunched down, ready to pounce. “My Lord, let’s gut them all. They disrespect you.”
“Quiet,” Love said to his servant. Its voice was deep and serious as it returned its focus to Instinct. “Listen to me, Instinct, and listen to me well. If Imagination is somehow involved in all this, don’t get stuck in the middle. Imagination is a liar. He has made many beautiful things appear hideous. He is not your friend. You have already made the unnatural change by turning back into your purest form. You know you cannot turn back. But I warn you, do not go that one step further and do something you might regret. Remember your purpose here, Instinct. You are to help save mankind from imminent danger. If Imagination is behind this, do not get involved.”
Instinct bowed slightly. “I appreciate your advice. Now, will you let us pass, or won’t you?”
“Is he for real?” the leader said. “My lord, you’re not going to take this, are you?”
“I do not have any choice,” Love said. “You may not value your life or the lives of your people, but I value mine. You may proceed, Instinct, but leave quickly. Despite my generosity, you are not welcome here.”
The red eyes stayed momentarily, and then, disappeared along with the outline. All that remained was the leader and his decorative headdress.
Instinct nodded and snapped his fingers. The enormous ostrich, with its neck wagging back and forth, lifted Marigold and Haunt seven feet with its beak and put them on its back. Instinct vaulted himself in front of them.
“Okay, hold on tight,” he said, and they rode past the leader. Marigold felt him watching her. He briefly morphed into her ideal man again and licked his lips. It made her shiver. She also felt the hot, glowing eyes of Love watching them. She closed her own eyes and hid her face in Instinct’s shirt as they sped away.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Marigold and Jeff scooted closer to Instinct’s magical fire, which bathed the forest in sinister orange light. Instinct almost fell right off the side of the ostrich while they were on the way to this resting spot. His enervation was evident.
As she sat on the ground, Marigold twiddled her toes in front of the crinkling heat. Her feet weren’t cold anymore. The flame danced in her eyes. She thought back to her adventure thus far. So much had happened that it was hard to keep track. It brought a lot bubbling to the surface.
“Instinct,” she said across the fire, almost in panic.
Instinct raised his head. He looked so haggard now it was disturbing. Bags hung under his eyes and dragged his whole face down. His forehead was layered with wrinkles. His hair had turned completely white and his body was as frail as a dying tree. If her brother lived to be 80, this is what he would look like.
“I don’t feel my baby here anymore,” Marigold said. “What happened to him?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice rusty with age. “I can’t know until we get to Imagination’s Tower. He might have your son. He might not. Who’s to say?”
“What do you—”
Instinct put his hand up. His fingers were slender and gnarled.
“Not now, Marigold. I’m tired.”
“Then why are we staying up?” Haunt asked. “I haven’t seen sunlight since we got here.”
“And you never will. The trees block out the sun.”
“Then why are we staying up?” Haunt repeated. “Let’s just go to bed.”
“I need to sleep, not you,” Instinct said, his eyes droopy.
Marigold noticed this was true. She wasn’t tired at all.
“I need to regain my strength,” Instinct said. “I’ve never been so close to being human before in my entire life.”
He coughed and pounded his chest. His eyes squinted up.
“Rescuing your husband forced me to go against my position here as an Archetype…” More coughing. “I’m furthest from the truest form I’ve ever been and also for the longest time. I’m doing it all for you. And you,” he pointed to Haunt. “I’m what you need me to be. I’m always ready. I exist here solely to protect you. That’s why I probably look like somebody you admire as opposed to somebody you were running from. You see me as somebody unique to you, as do all the archetypes. But my position here has switched. I’ve taken my essence, the energy, that was meant for all, and focused it on the
two of you. By focusing myself so deeply, it’s exhausted my—” He coughed long, stringy, old man wheezes into his fist. It sounded metallic in its quality, like a moribund machine.
“Are you all right?” Marigold asked, getting up and Instinct put up his hand. There was a green glint in his eyes.
“I’m okay,” he said. “But I’m weak. If Love ever wanted to take advantage of me, he—” He coughed again. It sounded bloody. “Dammit, I need to rest. If I just sit here, I should be able to recharge a bit. So, please, be patient with me. Why don’t the two of you talk to each other? I’m sure you have a lot to say.”
Marigold looked at her husband, and he gave her a weak smile. As much as she was happy to see him, she couldn’t return the favor. Not yet. She had been thinking on their ride over here on the ostrich, and what she realized wasn’t comforting.
“I have another question before you take your break,” Marigold said. “My husband’s here. Does that mean he’s—”
“Dead? Yes. I’ll save your husband the trouble. He killed himself. It’s slightly different from your coma since his heart isn’t beating anymore. Yours is. But both of your brains are dead so you’re both stuck here.”
At those words, Marigold didn’t even want to look at her husband. She was conflicted. On one hand, she was grateful to have him as a husband, because he obviously couldn’t live without her, which was mawkishly romantic, but…how could he? Who was going to take care of Aiden back in the outside world?
“Honey, I don’t know what came over me when I did it. It’s just—”
“Stop talking,” Marigold said.
She turned her attention back to Instinct.
“But we can still save him, can’t we? Even if nobody’s out there to…to watch over him. He can still be born, right? As long as my body’s still living?”
“Well, that was the plan before Imagination told the two of you to head here,” he said. “In all honesty, it’s probably best that the two of you are here together. Your child doesn’t want to be born—at least, that’s what Imagination told me. Your son’s suicidal. The two of you are here to convince him that he should choose life over death.”
The Darkness of the Womb Page 11