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Writer’s Note:
This is the end of it, folks. The story is over. Thank you to everyone who reviewed this. Your words mean so much. That being said, I have a few personal messages to throw out there.
Lostbeyondfinding: I can’t thank you enough. Your words kept me writing. Here are some silly words I heard a long time ago, and I want to pass them on to you: Never Don’t Write. If you can find any meaning in that, will you let me know?
Chocolatetuna: Thanks for all of your reviews. Now quit making them your priority and update your stuff!
Justin-Mullins: Thanks a million. Your review hit me at the right time.
Lavena: Thanks. I learned about Anton Lavey a long, long time ago. Now if you don’t update YGD I’ll pop! Don’t make me sick the demons on you.
Paudelange: Your review came out of nowhere and saved my little soul. WOW. I promise to R&R your stories SOON!
Between2worlds: Thanks for the kind words. By the way, Paradise Lost is a fantastic story, is it not?
Firebreathingkitten: Thanks! I thought my characters were like me. Boring and genuinely weird.
Braindead1345: What can I say, Hannibal? Thanks for everything. You’re my October!
Once again, thank you all. Here it is… The final chapter of TDP. I hope you enjoy!
The brief periods of sleep that he did get were interrupted by horrible, reoccurring nightmares. They were haunting images of Skyy, with her head twisted halfway around, and that stupid top hat perched clumsily on her head. Only now her skin was a pale gray color, completely devoid of any pigment, and her eyes were a dead, empty white. Eerily, she would walk towards Jareth, looking like a poorly controlled marionette. Her dead, accusing eyes were locked on his. In this dream, Jareth could not move, or scream, seemingly frozen in fear as she slowly crept close to him. When she got close enough, she would smile wickedly, showing crooked jagged teeth and a thick black tongue. Jareth would then wake up with a jolt. His eyes would dart around his room to try to reassure himself that he was truly safe, and alone.
At about six o’clock in the morning, his cell phone rang. It was Reign. He took a deep breath and answered.
“Hey, Reign. What’s up?” Jareth asked.
“You aren’t going to believe this, Jareth. Somebody trashed my car last night.” Reign said.
“What do you mean ‘trashed your car’?” Jareth asked, pretending not to know what Reign was talking about.
“Dude, somebody caused about a thousand dollars damage to my fucking car.” Reign yelled.
“Holy shit, Reign…do you know who did it?” Jareth asked. He thought that he should be nominated for an Academy Award for this performance.
“Know who did it?! Yeah, I know who did it, you fuck! It was you!” Reign thought. He wanted to reach through the phone and choke the shit out of Jareth. “No. I don’t know who did it. I don’t have a fucking clue.” Reign lied. “Listen, Jareth, I’m going to borrow my sister’s Jeep for a while, until my car’s fixed. I didn’t get to go to Chicago, so I was hoping we could do something tonight.”
“Yeah, sure. That would be great.” Jareth said. “What did you have in mind?”
“Oh, nothing special. Maybe raise a little hell.” Reign answered. Jareth almost winced after hearing it. It sounded like Reign was talking through clenched teeth. “Just meet me at St. Killians, around nine o’clock.” Reign added. He then pressed the “end” button, hanging up the phone. Throwing the phone on the bed, he turned to the others who were listening silently to the conversation. Wynter, Skyy, and Damen were there, looking at Reign as if they were soldiers awaiting instructions.
“We’re gonna get that lying son of a bitch tonight. We’re gonna scare the hell out of him.” Said Reign. The others just nodded in agreement. Reign didn’t know why Jareth had gone off the deep end like he did. All that talk about the car accident, and dying, and being brought back with a wish had proved to Reign that Jareth was absolutely crazy. It had also given him an idea. Jareth was about to get a taste of his own medicine.
Even though he had very little sleep, Jareth was ecstatic. It was June 12th, and Reign was still alive. He had won. Everything he had done in the past few days seemed worth the effort. Tonight, he would be with his friends, and everything would finally get back to normal. He couldn’t help but smile. All the craziness was nearing its end, and he and Reign would be together again, this time around. Even though he felt like he had been to Hell and back, he felt like a hero.
The day went by pretty uneventfully. The highlight was when Jareth’s mom and Carl went grocery shopping, leaving Jareth alone to break into the liquor cabinet to fill his flask with scotch. He was in the mood to throw down one serious party. He had even received a phone call from Wynter. She had told him that Reign didn’t suspect him at all, and she was glad he did such a good job. He fell for it hook, line and sinker. For the first time in a long while, Jareth felt happy to be alive.
He arrived at St. Killians at about a quarter after nine, finding Reign sitting on the hood of the Jeep. He pulled up next to him, and smiled from ear to ear as he got out of the car. Reign forced a smile back.
“Hey, Reign. It’s been a while since we’ve been here together.” Jareth said.
“Yep. I wanted to start here, so you and I could have a little chat.” Said Reign. Reign pulled his flask out spun the top off, and held it out to Jareth.
“No thanks, I brought my own.” Jareth said, pulling his flask out of his pocket and shaking it at Reign.
“C’mon, Jareth don’t be rude. I offered you a drink. I guarantee you’ll like it. It’ll knock your socks off.” Said Reign.
“Well…OK. I don’t want to be rude.” Said Jareth, taking Reign’s offer. He tipped it up to his lips, and drank deep. It was scotch, but tasted a little funny. Jareth didn’t put much thought into it. He figured it had just been sitting in the metal flask for too long. He tried to hand it back to Reign, who waved it off. Jareth took another drink, killing about three-quarters of the flask’s contents.
“Why did you do it, Jareth? Why did you thrash my car? I can understand why you would tell Wynter that I cheated on her. She’s cute. But why would you pimp my ride?” Reign asked. He seemed quite calm.
“Reign, what are you talking about?” Jareth asked. “I didn’t tell Wynter you cheated on her, or trash your car”
Reign climbed off the hood and stepped closer to Jareth. “Now you’re a God damned liar, Jareth. I saw you talking with Wynter at her house yesterday. She told me all about it. I saw you two kiss.”
Jareth’s heart sank into his stomach, and he felt nauseous. “Reign…it’s not what you think. I swear I didn’t tell her about anything.” Jareth said as he backed away from Reign. Now he felt really nauseous, and his sight started to go a little blurry. He tried to clear his head by shaking it.
“What’s the matter, Jareth? Are you getting a little dizzy? I guess that’s the rohypnol that you just drank taking effect. The good news is: you probably won’t remember any of this. The bad news is: I’m gonna trash you, just like you trashed my car.” Reign said coldly.
Jareth tried to comprehend what he had just heard. “Reign, I swear, I didn’t mess up your car.”
“Still denying it? Hmmm…well I have something for you.” Said Reign. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the badge. He threw it at Jareth. “I found that last night on the ground by what was left of my fucking car.” He spat.
Jareth couldn’t believe it. He must have lost it when he was hiding from the bats. He couldn’t believe that he didn’t notice that it was even gone. “Reign…I swear…I did it for your own good. I was protecting you. I couldn’t let you die again.”
“Shut up. I didn’t die. I don’t know where you are coming up with this bullshit, but I don’t want to hear it anymore. It’s like you’ve gone crazy. Do you really think that you made a deal with the Devil to bring me back to life? That’s fucking nuts, man!” Reign said. Jareth stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. “Uh-oh…looks like you’re going out. That’s OK, Jareth. We’ll take care of you.” He added. Wynter, Skyy and Damen suddenly appeared around Reign. They didn’t look normal to Jareth. In his currently drugged state, they looked like they were made of stone and leather. Right before he lost consciousness, panic gripped him tightly.
“It’s not them.” Jareth whispered incoherently. The world around him spun, and finally drifted off to darkness.
“Damen, grab his feet. We have work to do. He’ll be out for hours.” Said Reign. Damen did as instructed. He and Reign carried Jareth into the basement of the abandoned church. Reign felt sorry for Jareth, but also felt that Jareth needed this lesson. He needed to show Jareth that all of that stuff about that stupid website, and deals with the devil were fairy tales. He also needed to teach Jareth a lesson that he wouldn’t soon forget.
When Jareth awoke three hours later, two things were immediately apparent to him. The first was that he had a horrible headache. Swirls of light danced in spirals every time he closed his eyes. Not that he could do anything about it. He was tied down tightly to a wide table, wearing nothing except his boxer shorts. His arms and legs were bound stretched out, as if he were a victim of the proverbial medieval “rack”. He really had no clue as to where he was. He slowly came to realize that there were candles all around, and that Reign was sitting the wrong way in a high backed wooden chair right next to him.
“Rise and shine, sleepy-head.” Reign sang.
“What the fuck, Reign? Let me up.” Jareth demanded.
“Wish I could, pal. I really do, but I think I’m going to leave you tied down for a little while. There are a few things I have to get straightened out.” Reign said.
Jareth struggled in vain to get loose, but every time he pulled, the ropes seemed to tighten. “What are you going to do, Reign? Kill me because of your car? I’ll pay for it, OK? Just let me up. Lesson learned.”
“I wish it were that simple, but it isn’t. That story you told about that website has us…concerned about you. I need an honest answer out of you, Jareth. Take your time and think it through carefully. Did you sell your soul to the Devil to bring me back to life?” Reign asked.
Jareth couldn’t believe this was happening. But he was getting pissed. “Reign, I’m going to ask you to let me up again. You are acting crazy, man. And drop that condescending tone in your voice. You sound like a Nazi in a “B” movie.” Jareth said. He tried to sound tough, but it didn’t work. His breath was too shaky. The truth was, Jareth was afraid. He was afraid that Wynter, Skyy. And Damen had put Reign up to this.
Reign jumped out of the chair sending it flying across the room. He grabbed Jareth by the throat and squeezed slightly. “Wrong answer!” he screamed at Jareth. “Now it’s time to show you what happens when you give a wrong answer.” He let go of Jareth’s throat. Jareth responded with a few quick gasps of air.
Wynter, Skyy and Damen stepped from out of the shadows, and surrounded the Jareth. He looked at each of them. Each one smiled wickedly, and had murderous looks in their eyes. Wynter was carrying a hunting knife. Jareth tried again to break free, but failed miserably.
“Reign…God Reign, help me. It isn’t them. They aren’t our friends, Reign. You’ve got to believe me.” Jareth babbled.
“What are you talking about?” Reign asked. He was actually amused at Jareth’s latest tactic to be set free.
“Listen to me!” Jareth pleaded. “We’re both in danger! That isn’t Wynter, or Skyy, or Damen. They are…demons or something. Believe me, Reign. Please believe me. I know it sounds crazy, but I…I had them killed to bring you back!” Jareth bawled.
At first Reign said nothing. Only looked at Jareth who lay there sobbing. Then he laughed. It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. The others joined in. Everyone in the room was laughing except for Jareth. Jareth was crying through tightly closed eyes. Then Reign stopped, and looked at Jareth as if he were confused. He watched Jareth cry and something snapped in his brain. Jareth whole-heartedly believed what he had just said. He wasn’t making any of it up. Reign realized that Jareth had snapped, and was completely insane.
“Wynter, cut the poor bastard loose.” Reign said softly.
“What?!” Screamed Wynter. “Reign, he needs to suffer for what he did!”
“Look at him, Wynter. He is suffering. He needs help. He truly believes all of this shit.” Reign answered.
Wynter turned toward Reign and threw the knife to the floor. “There is a reason that he believes all of this. There’s a good reason.” She said as she walked towards Reign. Skyy and Damen started to giggle. “Do you want to know what that reason is, Lover? It’s because it’s true.” She grabbed the skin between her breasts and pulled. Flesh ripped away, and blood sprayed as the thing with wings emerged from her. It cast off her body, which was open and crumpled on the floor like a terry cloth robe. The beast let out a howl, and Reign screamed in terror; the hair at his temples suddenly turned white. Jareth watched as it reached out with one massive clawed hand and swatted at Reign’s torso. With one swipe, Reign’s shirt was gone, and four distinct lines on his chest gushed blood. Reign clutched at his chest, trying to back away from the beast. His eyes were wide in disbelief.
“Sorry, Lover,” it said. Its voice was wet and gravelly. “But you were just on borrowed time anyway.” It then laughed, and swatted again, this time opening Reign up like a bag of chips. Reign fell, and instantly all three of the things were on him, like hyenas after a kill. All Jareth could do was listen to the grotesque crunching as the beasts rendered flesh from bone.
Then, they surrounded Jareth again. Jareth screamed for help, but none came. He begged for forgiveness, but in his last minutes, knew that redemption would not come. He had sold his soul, and the time had come for payment. He was alive when they started to devour him. He heard his bones break, and felt the warmth of his own blood wash over him. But the worst thing was hearing them laugh.
The old, abandoned church burned down that night. The bodies of five teenagers were found amongst the wreckage. What was left of them, anyway. Because of the fire, they had to be identified by dental records. The headlines read that five teens died while vandalizing the old church at St Killians Cemetery.
The End
Cassandra sat in her room, bored as usual. She had just finished applying the black fingernail polish to her nails, and liked the way it turned out. Her friends were going to flip when they saw her. She had cut her hair short and spiky, and dyed it dark black with red tips. She always had a dark side to her, now her appearance reflected how she felt.
When her nails dried she jumped on the computer, hit Internet explorer and was soon looking at the “Yahoo” splash page. She typed the words “Angel of Death” into the image search box, and was instantly looking at artwork of winged beasts, or foreboding creatures, adorned in hooded robes. She was looking for something she could print out, and put on her folder for biology, and she didn’t trust her artistic abilities to do it right. Nothing spectacular caught her eye, until she got to page three. The first thumbnail picture there had to be the greatest picture she ever saw. Her friend Lilith would have loved it, God rest her soul. Cut down by a drunk driver at such an early age. She clicked the link under the picture, and was redirected to a front page. It was a weird page, with a big button. Instead of “click here to enter” or just the word “enter”, it had a strange message. She clicked the big button that read “Abandon Hope.”