The Clockwork Falcon - part 17: Week 5
#18 of The Clockwork Falcon
No one escapes from the Black Prison
Week 5
It had all just been a hopeful dream, Jim realized as he looked around his interminably cold cell...plit...He saw the wrought iron bars and felt the chill of the concrete. There was his useless calendar...plit...There was his wooden shelf...plit...There was the light that never turned off...plit.
He listened to the familiar, incessant dripping from the leaky tap, and it pounded against his eardrums as he looked around desperately. But this was his home now. He'd almost begun to miss it in his little fiction ... plit...plit...
Of course he hadn't gotten away, Tuck had never helped him escape. What a stupid story, it was nonsense ...plit...plit... Just some hopeful fantasy. You're all alone Jim, you'll always be alone...plit...plit...plit...
You've finally gone insane...
Jim tore around his cell screaming for want of noise, anything to break the silence and drown out the dripping faucet. He threw himself against the indefatigable walls and shook the unyielding iron, roaring in frustration as they repelled him without giving a micron, not even acknowledging his frantic blows.
Then he heard someone coming up to his cell, and Jim rushed to the bars eagerly. Could Tuck have come back? Maybe it was just a guard? It didn't matter; Jim just needed to see somebody who was alive, somebody to tell him that he was still alive too.
He did not get his wish.
Jim reeled away in horror and pain at seeing the walking corpse of his mentor limply shuffling toward the bars of his cage, its patchy flesh folded and mottled in decay.
As it drew closer, Jim heard it begin whispering, "My Regrets...My Regrets..." It didn't stop walking, just kept croaking those sickening words as it turned to stare at him with hollowed eyesockets.
Jim scrambled against the walls trying escape from the horrific thing, his claws breaking away as he scratched at the concrete. He knew he was insane now, and that there was no escape. But, he had to get away from this place, had to get away from the ticking drip of the faucet...plit...plit...plit...plit...plit...plit...
He realized what he needed to do and reached up to dig his mutilated fingers into the scar across his eye, crying out in agony as he tore open his head like charnel plaster. He screamed his guilt aloud while he split apart, and he felt the empty shell of his body fall to the ground...
Jim! Jim, wake up, please, wake up!
Where am I? What...?
"Jim! I'm here, oh, please wake up! You're safe now, my love, you're safe here with me..."
Jim looked around and realized he was standing at the window of the dingy shack in the Waterfront district. He heard a soft dripping from the downspout outside as a light sprinkle of rain pattered against the glass.
Relief poured over him like a tingling ocean, and he fell sobbing into Jenny's waiting arms, "I was there...I was back...in that place..." he wept into Jenny's neck.
"My love, you're freezing, please come back to bed," Jenny begged tearfully as she pulled his violently shaking body to the ancient mattress of the shack's bedroom. She rubbed her paws over him to warm his icy fur as he lay weeping against her chest.
"You're safe now, Jim, you're safe..." she whispered into his cradled head. She pulled the heavy blanket tight over them and wriggled against his body, breathing a sigh of relief as she felt his warmth returning and his gasps of despair beginning to slow.
"What...what happened...?" he whispered as Jenny's body began to ease his shivering.
"It was just a nightmare. I'm here and you'll never have to leave me again," she hushed back, stroking his quivering ears.
"I was so scared...I thought...I thought..." he buried his muzzle into her soothing fur.
"I know, love, but you're here and they can't ever take you away," she whispered as she wrapped her arms tight around him.
Tuck heard the commotion from the next room. He thought he should run in, try to help calm Jim down somehow. But there was nothing that he could think to say. Nothing he thought he could do.
So he pretended to be asleep and turned his tear-streaked face into the soft oblivion of the sofa...