Iis's+Aftermath

Iis stood, afraid, as the empty black security box leaked into the background that was the depths of the cave. The white-suited guards who normally swarmed around the entrance were gone. The starry copper-colored archway passed above Iis as she stepped inside. Intricate maps and other pamphlets were sprawled across the ground beside the information box. She took a map and followed it, weaving through the length of tunnels on the right side of the cave. She only stopped once at the second security box around which no guards, one again, could be found. What had happened? The tunnels were usually laced with guards. Left, right, anywhere you looked, someone was looking at you.

When she reached Ara, the capitol, the silence followed. There stood people, thousands of people, but only whispers escaped their lips.

“Did you see it happen?”

“Who do we elect king?”

“Must it be a king?”

“They murdered him before they left.”

“The Three were killing us all along.”

“Dead, you say?”

“They killed him. Right after he said it.”

“Who’s dead?”

The name. It brought hatred, sadness, depression, hell, to cloud the air like black balloons. It screeched through Iis’s ears, strangled her mind like barbed wire. Her heart, weighted by the news, sunk into the pit of her stomach, pulling the blood from her face and the sense from her thoughts.

“Jones Detta.”

“Jones Detta.”

“Jones Detta.”

She pushed through the teary blur of people. It was like moving through water. It couldn’t have seemed any longer. It was like slow motion. When she finally made it to the center of the crowd, she wished it would’ve taken longer.

In a second, the ambulance doors were closing. Iis ran across the blood-soaked ground and pulled at the doors. Her nails dug into the thin paint, scream after scream pouring out her mouth.

“Ma’am,” a woman calmed her. “Ma’am, is there a problem?”

“It’s Jones, isn’t it?”

“I’m so sorry...” her voice trailed off. Iis threw herself against the doors again, only to be held back by the same woman. She pulled away and fell to the ground. The woman tried to help her but Iis ignored her words. She screamed. She cried. It wasn’t fair. If only she had been there. The ambulance drove off and Iis allowed the woman to usher her to a car that would take her to the hospital. In the car, she choked back the tears, putting all her concentration on the necklace in her hands. She squeezed it so tightly that the gold swirls left marks in her hands, until there was a light snap. She took her eyes from the hospital where they had just arrived and looked down to see the damage. The swirls had shifted apart, revealing notches in the fake diamond. A small light pressed against the sides, begging to come out. The gears clicked and her head shot up.

“I need to go. Now.” She sprinted inside, pushing past doctors, demanding to see Jones. They all tried to comfort her. Their comforts were only answered by screams and anger.

“I’m sorry,” they said.

“He passed away,” they told her. Nonetheless, she demanded to see him. Finally, one took her to his room. When she saw his lifeless body, she felt sick but forced herself to approach it.

“Please. Please, let this work. Dear God, let this work,” she whispered. She pried open the diamond’s notches and the light poured out. It dripped to the floor and spiked upwards to form a silhouette. Definition grew and a familiar face etched its way into the head. The figure placed its hand on her arm. The shimmers of light felt like soft pin pricks.

“What’s going on?” the figure asked. The voice was tinny but sweet.

“Jones?”

“How did this happen? How did I get here?” He looked at his ruined human body.

“Jones, you died.”

The figure crossed to the body and rested its hand on the lifeless chest. The light fizzed between them. “Why am I so cold? Why am I so dark?” The figure began to shake. “Iis, I’m afraid. What’s going on?”

“Jones. Don’t you remember?”

“Iis, I’m so scared. Help me.”

“I can’t. I can’t help you. I thought you could save yourself. Can’t you bring yourself to life again?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to try.”

“Why is this happening?”

“Jones. Please try.” The figure placed its hand on the body again. The fizzling began again. The skin and light bubbled together. They burned and melted. The figure pulled away.

“It hurts, Iis.” It touched its fingertips to Iis’s arm. Every skin cell under the pressure of its fingers burned and popped. They caved in on each other and sent rushes of pain throughout her body. It pulled away. “It hurts.” The fizzling continued after it moved. “Make it stop!” It cringed and shrieked, collapsing to the ground. Iis knelt to floor and, despite the pain, stroked its hair.

“Don’t die on me too. Please don’t. I can’t take it.” She moved to the bed where Jones’s body was resting and moved him to the right. She lifted the figure and bit her lip. The pain was unbearable but she brought him to bed to rest next to his body.

“I’m so sorry, Iis. I don’t want to leave you.” The light began to pull from its body. It formed spikes that grew taller and taller until it flashed in a white light. The light burned Iis’s eyes and they snapped shut. When the light died behind her eyelids, she was afraid to open them again. One death was enough. She couldn’t handle another. With eyes still closed, she noticed another light, a fainter one, beginning to glow. Before she took the chance of opening her eyes, she heard a voice.

“Iis,” the familiar voice recognized her. “I did it.”