CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The garden was full of people, fairy lights littered the place, and synthetic flowers were blooming everywhere. Everyone was laughing, and dancing as the music slowly cascaded through the place. Clinton found himself in the last place he wanted to be in the world.
His home.
Just a few moments before his biggest nightmare struck.
His favorite niece ran towards her with tears as she wrapped her arms around his knees.
"Uncle Jared! Nico keeps on pulling at my braid!"
Clinton stared at the angelic, blond, little girl that was staring up at him. He, uncertain, raised his hand and patted her in the head. She was warm, solid. She was completely and irrevocably so real.
But that couldn't be.
And as clear as he remembered it, the deafening, beeping sound of the Freakquency assailed his senses. He fell on his knees, blood dripping from his ears. His eardrums felt like exploding and his head felt like splitting into two. With a groan, he gripped his head between his hands in an attempt to cover his ears.
His eyesight turned red as the pain continued. He couldn't even bother to look around him as his mind spun around so much and his stomach was eating itself as bile rose in his throat.
He could hear people screaming--but they all sounded so far away. A fire started at the pit of his stomach and slowly spread throughout his whole body as if it was consuming him. He screamed but he couldn't hear anything at all. All he could see was that cursed beeping sound.
And as his eyesight turned white, Clinton found himself standing on his feet. Shadows kept moving in front of him, making him more lightheaded. It was like watching a TV with a very bad antenna as everything left a black trail. Angry from something within, madness he couldn't explain, Clinton bellowed as he struck the nearest shadow in front of him.
Red splattered his eyesight. And he continued his outburst--striking down everything that was moving around him until all that he could see was crimson. When he could finally feel like himself, he saw the havoc he had wrecked.
Everything was turned upside down. And everyone was dead--crimson tainting their extravagant dresses and suits. Their earlier joyous expressions were now stained with complete and utter fear. Choking with his own cry, Clinton fell on his knees. He raised his hands to cover his face but saw that it was sheer red, dripping into a pool of blood beneath him.
"No, no, no," Clinton cried. His anguished cries echoed in the now hollowed place.
And with a blink, he found himself at the start of his nightmare once more.
"This can't be real," Clinton muttered as his favorite niece ran to him once more and repeated the very same words she had uttered. "This can't be,"
-"You have to wake up,"- an unfamiliar voice whispered at the back of his mind. -"You're right. This is not real. None of it is,"-
"Alice?" Clinton asked in confusion and shock. Despite the situation he was in, he found the younger woman's voice so soothing. "Can you get me out of here?"
-"I can't,"- Alice answered. -"I don't have the strength to help all eight of you simultaneously. This is the only thing I can do. You have to get out of it on your own. To do so, you have to find what is not supposed to be there. Find it, and you'll see your way out. Or—you'll live this moment over and over again,"-
Clinton patted his niece's head as he looked around the garden; his eyes narrowing on everything and everyone. If what Alice said was true there must be something that was out of place. He slapped his temple twice as he spun on his place.
"Look, Jared. Look," he muttered angrily at himself.
And as he spun for the umpteenth time, he finally noticed what was out of place. Synthetic flowers do not bloom. And yet—one part of the decoration had opened up just before his niece ran to him. Desperate to not relive it once more, Clinton rushed towards the patch before the Freakquency could attack. He jumped into the portal and sunk into the darkness.
~oOo~
Alec stared up at the two-story mansion: his childhood home. He couldn't bring himself to push open the gates. His fear for what he was about to see inside dreaded him. But he knew he must. Or he wouldn't know.
With shaking hands, Alec pushed the iron gates opened and walked towards the front door. The few minutes between the gate and the front door was like a walk through hell. The place, which used to be so lively, was so quiet. He clenched his fist and with a deep breath, knocked at the front door.
But no one answered.
He twisted the doorknob and found it to be open. He pushed the door open. It widened slowly, creaking with every moment. And Alec couldn't stop the gasped that escape between his lips as scene as horrid as a murder scene welcomed him.
He felt bile rose in his throat and he bent over and emptied his stomach. Every corner of the house was covered in blood. Pieces of what used to be his family scattered all over the room. He cried out loud. The sound that left him was the utter wail of someone who had lost everything.
"No," he whispered as he got up to his feet. His tears flowing continuously. "No. No. No!"
With shaking legs, he made his way towards the stairs and up to the second floor. The wallpaper had a line made of blood—as if a bloodied hand was dragged through it. A new surge of trepidation gripped him as he hastened his pace. Upon seeing his little sister's room door open, Alec screamed her name.
"Alice!" he shrieked, entering her room and a pool of blood beside her bed.
Devastated and tormented, Alec fell on his knees. And there was nothing he could do but cry.
And then. . . He found himself outside once more. Staring up at the mansion which used to be his childhood home.
With a cry, Alec couldn't stop the bitter laugh. His heart and mind breaking as he repeated the same thing over and over again.
-"You have to wake up!"- a very familiar voice shouted at his mind.
He looked up at the sky. "Alice?"
-"You have to wake up,"- she answered. -"Find what is different here to your memories. Find it and you'll be able to find your way out,"-
Alec sobbed. Not because of despair anymore but because of pure glee. For the first time in a few years, he was finally able to hear his sister's voice once more. And for him—that was enough. Even if he had to relive his nightmares over and over again he would gladly do so if it meant talking with her again.
-"You have to wake up,"- she repeated. -"Find what's different and you'll see the exit! I don't have much strength left. I need you,"-
Alec heard the desperation in her voice. And with a deep breath to steel his nerves, he pushed the gates open and ran towards the front door.