Chapter 15

 

Flyer’s point of view

Kevin flew forward towards Knartop with the ferocity of a dragon. The guards were taken completely by surprise and were scattered within seconds. We all looked at each other in disbelief, but suddenly I noticed a cunning and mischievous expression spread across some of their faces, including Kallur’s.
Kallur looked at me, and then to the others around him with malice and anticipation, picking up his staff.
“Nice plan!” he declared, his voice filled with the mischievous on his face.
He and the others, including me, picked up anything resembling a weapon and surged after Kevin, striking left and right.
I spontaneously cried out, in a shrill voice, the first thought that came to my head:
“FREEEEDOOOOM!”
The morale level shot up as the others took up the cry. 

At last, a plan that might actually work for all of us.

Brian’s point of view

I huddled tightly into the corner. Moments before, I had fallen into a trance like state for a mere few seconds. Following this were eerie, spectral cries of anger, pain, agony and death. It was terrifying to be reading a book one minute, then to have spectral screaming in my ears the next. I had dived for the corner, trying to vainly escape the agonised roaring. Tears now fell from my eyes, and I buried my face into my trembling arms, that were now hugging my shaking knees. The voices had started to die down to angry calls and stifled shouts, yet I still tried to get my mind of it. I surveyed my now tranquil surroundings. My book, I saw, was lying open on the floor where it had been sprawled by my jumping out of the seat in shock and fear, its pages fanning open like an American Indian feathered head-dress. The TV was off, and so was the hi-fi. The silence now became unbearable. Listening harder out of solitude and fear, I could hear my own breathing: laboured and choked with terror.
Was this the reason Kevin urged me to stop listening? Did he see this coming? Were his cries among those ghostly cries?
I jumped and gasped in fear as my cell began to ring on the coffee table. I longed for the solitude to end; to hear a soft, clam voice, yet I was afraid to move from my sanctuary in the corner, as if something would jump out at me: one of those spectres, hiding in shadows.
The ringing continued. Who was it? They were persistent, as the ringing still didn’t stop. I suspected one of the guys. We had mentioned briefly over the phone earlier that week about organising some sort of joint work: a step beyond doing solo albums. It was probably AJ, or Nick. They were the only ones I’d mentioned the joint projects to: Howie was busy doing one of his Lupus Foundation tours, and wasn’t due back in the states from Eastern Europe for another few weeks.
Maybe it was Leighanne; she’d gone to visit Kristin and see how she was doing.
I stayed for who-knows-how-long in that corner: still, silent, and uncannily shaken to the core. Soon I heard voices again, male, muffled; my mind raced, suddenly kicked back into action by the noises. Were they spectral calls again inside my head, or human voices outside? I didn’t want to discover which of the two they were. So I hid my face in my tired arms again.
As the voices, getting clearer and closer now, increased their urgency, a strange, unaccountable feeling crept across me. It felt unnatural, angry, liberated: the feeling of a faint presence, another entity, not in the room, but inside me.
As I was dragged to my feet, I focused on only one thing: that other presence. As if possessed, I spontaneously let four lines of some kind of verse pass my lips……..

AJ’s point of view

“Do you think he’s not in?” Nick quizzed.
I knocked for the fifth time on Brian’s door. “Well, he’d have his cell with him if he was, but he’s not answering it.”
“Maybe he’s hurt himself?” Nick wondered nervously.
The idea had only just crept into my head. I wordlessly tried the handle. The door was unlocked: Brian wasn’t irresponsible enough to leave his house unlocked; the possibility of him being injured was becoming more likely. I poked my head through the door.
“Brian?”
No answer.
“Yo, Rok?” Nick called, a little louder.
Still nothing.
“Try in here,” he suggested, pointing to the kitchen.
Brian wasn’t in the kitchen or the dining room, the only other room downstairs was the living room.
Nick and I both gasped upon entering the room, finding our older brother in such a shocking state.
Nick rushed ahead to him and I followed. He was huddled in the corner, trembling occasionally, hugging his knees and shrinking away from us.
“Brian, what’s wrong?” Nick whispered, placing his hand gently on Brian’s shoulder.
Brian acted as if we weren’t there, but tensed under Nick’s touch. I tried lift his head, but he resisted, every muscle tensed and rigid.
“Brian, man, what happened to you?” I asked, afraid myself.
He again stayed silent, only his loud breathing being heard. Nick and I jointly managed to drag him to his feet. Looking at his tearstained face, he looked distant, blank. I heard him mutter a strange verse quietly.
“Head and tail;
Tooth and claw;
Breaking our chains;
Freedom once more.”
I frowned at Nick, who frowned back. Yet, a strange revelation came to me: his eyes. There was something behind his eyes that was unusual. I soon realised it. His sudden, calm, moody expression didn’t belong to him either. The only person I knew who possessed these often sombre facial features was……..
I felt like punching myself!
“Impossible; he’s gone forever. Nothing can bring him back. Come back to reality, AJ, you fool!” I berated myself harshly and silently.
I helped Nick tend to Brian, until we were satisfied he had snapped out of it. We didn’t ask any awkward questions, as he’d lashed out at us verbally last time we didn’t believe his answers. I left, strangely haunted by that expression Brian wore for barely five seconds. An expression he held long enough for me to recognise, and be frightened by……

 

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