Paintshark (24 page)

Cassandra stood on all fours with stumpy legs and chicken-like claws and her skin had turned from it's pale white to a shiny tough copper colour, the shine even appeared on her armour plated back. Her body was longer and serpentine, and on her shoulders were the bat wings, which were now a reddish colour.

Cassandra's eyes were reptilian and were hardly blinking, just scanning the rest of the room, a forked tongue flickered out her mouth to taste the air, her neck was short and muscular to support a huge head – a head filled with razor sharp teeth.

She stood taller with a belly overhanging her waist, still the remains of her dress clung to the fat stomach but the knee high boots had finally split and desperately clung onto her hind legs. This was Cassandra's full transformation into a dragon.

As Cassandra began licking the rubble off and brushed herself down in her new dragon form, something caught her eye. Far ahead of her stood Aphrodite who had now found the cause of the noise which she assumed was ruining her party, she didn't scream or panic, but her breathing grew more heavy as she watched this probable fierce beast eye her up too.

Aphrodite remained calm and slowly took off her heels and held them tight in her left hand, her glittery purse in the other, she was fascinated by this giant gate crasher, as were the guards who were climbing through the hole in the wall.

One guard brandished a spear which came at Aphrodite from behind and it was in that exact moment when the spear pieced Cassandra's boot that the penny dropped for Aphrodite, she recognised the shredded boots, she recognised the remains of the dress and even the cry of annoyance from the beast sounded feminine. Without saying a word, she turned and ran.

The dragon turned around and picked up the spears man whirling him twice above her head before hurtling him back into the crowd of others and then she ran after Aphrodite.

Running as a giant dragon wasn't easy for Cassandra and even though she was the larger of the two, she was losing ground on Aphrodite who was tearing through the corridor doors whilst Cassandra just charged through them and now the party above was aware of maybe not her appearance…but at least the noise she was causing in her wake.

Aphrodite pushed hard through each fire exit door and sprinted to the next one ahead, Cassandra wasn't too far behind and rammed herself through each wall, carefully protecting her eyes with the crest on top of her head with each strike and tottering unsteadily on her clawed feet with each step, if the heels took some time to grow into as a eighteen-year old teenager, then the claws were killing her as a giant dragon.

Nevertheless she was closing in on the' so-so' friend who had betrayed her and Cassandra didn't know what she was going to do to her when she grabbed her by her scrawny little neck…
should she wring it?

The guard's arrows and the occasional spear were having no effect, Cassandra stood and knocked them away and then resumed her chase, but led by Apollo the guards gave chase anyway.

Aphrodite didn't look back at Cassandra; she just kept on running. She was right behind the scheming bitch girl and reached out to grab her.

Aphrodite threw herself through yet another door and as Cassandra bashed her way in, so driven by anger that she was so close to claiming the little wretch, as she outstretched her hand to snatch up Aphrodite, her novice use of running on all fours was to be her un-doing and she tripped over her front leg and came crashing down on her soft underbelly knocking herself out.

By the time the chasing archers had caught up with Cassandra, she was out cold as Aphrodite stood over the dragon, watching the huge stomach rise and lower slowly, and then revert back to Cassandra, still not moving.

Unfazed, Aphrodite put her high heels back on. Apollo sidled up to the socialite queen.

“I guess you're not going to tell me how you did that, are you?” Aphrodite walked around a bit to get the feel of her shoes back again. “You guessed right, darling,” she said, and started walking away.

He turned to his archers for some support.

“So what shall we do with her then? Same as before?”

Shifting to a more comfortable position on her right foot Aphrodite gave a look which Apollo picked up to be glaringly obvious on what to do next.

“I don't care what you do, just do it quietly…I've got a party to go back to and to get my money.” She waved to Apollo as she left through the one undamaged doors out of the maze of corridors. “Tootles.”

The remaining archers gathered around the unconscious Cassandra in a circle, most of them thought she was beautiful but knew they had a job to do, one man rubbed his eyes and looked away from the beauty for a second and at Apollo. There was an ounce of hope that Apollo would save her after that terrific display of fighting for her life and so the young guard, called Meakins, asked, “We're not still going to kill her are we, Boss?”

The smile Apollo gave back was one the archer had seen all but too many times, if a smile could be repugnant then this was it.

“Of course we are! Now where were we?”

Meakins wasn't too sure. “Is it fair to shoot her while she's down, Boss?”

“We could always trade places and pick her up and have you lying down there, young Mr Meakins.” Meakins froze.

“No, its fine, I'm fine.”

“Good, then I can continue,” said Apollo. The archers pointed their bows down on Cassandra and drew back the arrows.

“Oh yeah on three. One. Two–”

Cassandra's eyes opened on ‘three'.

Quick-stepping back to the main hall Aphrodite heard a girl's voice scream out, “COME ON THEN YOU BASTARDS,” followed by silence.

Aphrodite still had her phone on her and entered a number and waited for a reply.

“HELLO?…YEAH IT'S ME…IT'S DONE, YEAH…I DON'T KNOW IF SHE'S STILL ALIVE…I KNOW YOU DID…WELL WE HAVE STILL HAVE SABRINA, KIMBERLEY AND THAT LITTLE NERD BOY TO TAKE…YES….YES, I WILL…APOLLO IS GOING TOO?…OK. I WILL YES…THANK YOU ‘BIG MAN'…WHAT?…CALL YOU BY YOUR PROPER NAME?…OK…THANK YOU…I WILL…LOVE YOU TOO…BYE, DADDY.”

She turned around and gave a huge exasperated sigh and felt her ears. “Damn! She's still got my earrings.”

“GEMMA!!” Elias opened his eyes and they started to sting straight away. He wiped at the left one which had started to weep and looked around through one eye at yet another new cell, this one was much cleaner than the cells beneath Big Man’s studios, the bed may have been divine to anyone else but to Elias it was just somewhere slightly more comfortable to being dragged behind a horse.

Now beneath, the covers were wet with sweat and there was more light available too, raising himself from the bed, a sharp pain coming from his back made Elias rethink as he eased back down on the mattress and remembered where he was – a prison hospital. He looked up and down the beige wall and focused on a window without any bars.

Most of the wounds he sustained whilst being dragged across the courtyard had healed but Elias was not to have known this as the pain seemed to be still there, some of his right earlobe was missing and was probably still laying in the sands of the Theatre of Screams, the skin on his back and sides had been scraped red raw and the crimson glow of dried blood peeked through the bandages; his mouth was very dry.

The right cheekbone wasn’t as filled out as usual and scarred deeply for ever, he touched it and it made him wince forward, his mind tried to wander back to those moments, laying in the sand behind the horse.

He sank back down on the bed, holding his sore cheek. He could barely remember the destruction of the arena at the hands of Kimberley, until a voice, slightly familiar, stopped his train of thought. “I’m scared to dream too.”

Elias turned from the window and looked at the tragic face of Felcey, it was completely pale now, his hair was dirty and joining the bland pathetic dull colouring in his cheeks bloodshot eyes sat deep into their sockets as he watched Elias in the next bed, eager to speak to someone who didn’t offer so much sympathy every time they opened their mouths to speak to him.

The young comic collector offered a smile before one of the many Hustle beetles in his body pressed from inside his stomach. Elias saw the skinny lad’s gut rise and then decrease, causing Felcey to wince once more.

“The boys are restless today,” joked Felcey.

Elias was finding it hard to see the funny side of anything at the moment, attempting to raise himself from his bed again struggling to hold the base of his back without crying out too loud, failing to do either and again it was a return to lying flat on his back.

Felcey found it hard to look Elias in the eye without his eyes being drawn to the nasty scars on his face so he was glad Elias was on his back so he didn’t have to avert his eyes any longer. Reaching for a wooden cup filled with water on his bedside table, he drank long from it, letting the remnants trickle down his mouth, turning his head he dried the rest on his pillow and tried conversation again.

“That should do it; I’ll try and drown the little sods.”

He had Elias’s attention now.

“How are you feeling, Felcey?”

Felcey’s red eyes widened as he went through the well-rehearsed routine of explaining how his condition was worsening and that any time the beetles would depart from their safe hold from within and kill him in the process and how the only way he survived an attack from Beak-nip lions was his newfound ability to produce milk from his hands and then how he witnessed the terrifying Chimera….and then there was Kimberley, he let her down, he ran away…he was a coward. Felcey didn’t want to think about her and tried to end his conversation upbeat.

“Could be worse though, I could be a United supporter.”

Elias supported that same football team and chuckled, which, due to his injuries, turned in to a mini coughing fit, he reached for his wooden cup, similar to Felcey’s and took a sip.

“Where am I? Where are we?”

Felcey gasped as a crushing pain hit his chest but no sooner had he held his hands to his front, the pain had gone, breathing heavily, he answered the question, although Elias would have forgiven him if he was unable to continue.

“We are in Gommerstall Prison, obviously in the hospital section; you’ve been out for ages, asleep through the journey on the prison transport plane.”

“Transport plane, we flew?”

“Yep, Big Man’s prisoners travel in style! Only he can afford to fly us from Olympia to Gommerstall.”

Elias lifted his head and held it still like cat hearing an unfamiliar sound. “Us? How many flew from Olympia?”

“I wouldn’t say it was a planned holiday, nor that flew first class, but everyone from Big Man’s prison was shifted out, the gang’s all here, sir.”

Elias rubbed his face and felt the stubble on his chin, rubbing again for some sort of security. “How many prisoners are kept here then?”

Felsey’s tongue eased out of the corner of his mouth in deep concentration.

“Loads, much more than I could count, a hundred maybe?”

“And how long have we been here?” Elias pressed. “How long have I been out?”

Felcey gritted his teeth as a beetle moved around his stomach again. “Quite a while now.”

Elias’s eyes widened slowly in shock. “How long is a while? A couple of days? A week?”

Before Felcey could answer, Jago, Farris and Aubrey were led in by another man through the only over door in the hospital room and he spoke to Jago. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

He flashed all of the digits on both his hands to indicate the message again before nodding an acknowledgement to Elias. Aubrey sat on the edge of the bed with a bunch of grapes which he had intended to give to Elias but the patient would have to wait as they were so juicy and he wouldn’t miss a few, they tumbled from his mouth as he spoke.

“So you’re awake then, eh? Good show! I must say hard cheese about your horse drag, old boy.”

Jago gave him a gentle slap on his insensitivity.

“Forgive him my friend; he’s just excited you’re awake, as am I.”

The old man smiled broadly looking at his companions. “We all are.”

Elias returned the smile with interest, but remembered what Aubrey had just said. “How am I here? What happened to me?”

He shook his head gently as if there was a tiny man inside on a tightrope and the slightest movement would dislodge him. “I can remember the beetles and the start of me being dragged around that stadium, but after that, it’s gone.”

The teacher’s voice was very soft and easy on the ears, and Jago had missed it greatly.

He stopped to take a deep breath and strained. “I have to get back home and see my daughter, she’s all alone.” The more he thought about her, the greater the determination was to get out of bed. Gritting his teeth he pulled himself up with his elbows and swung his legs out up from the covers and around to the side of the bed.

Everybody looked to the ground or somewhere else, unable to look Elias in the eyes, something he picked up on. “What’s wrong with everyone?” Jago tried to dissuade him. “You don’t have to return to Olympia straight away, you should stay here for a while and recuperate.”

Elias seemed hurt that Jago would suggest such a thing, not to encourage him to return home.

“What do you mean ‘stay here for a while’? Why should I? I have to get out of this Gommerstall place, and get back home to my daughter.”

“Gommerstall is a prison; you can’t just walk out the door.”

“Try and stop me, I have to get back to my little girl.”

“By the time you leave here, she’s going to be a big girl,” said Faris.

Elias spun him a confused look and then back to Jago. “What did he mean by that?”

A voice unrecognisable to Elias boomed into the room and the conversation.

“He meant that should you ever leave our humble little establishment and return to Olympia, your daughter would not be the same way you left her.”

All heads rose and spun to see a black man with a huge frame enter. His face was hairless but scars ran amok from the right side of his forehead and seemed to continue all the way down to his back. These were the scars he received from his former employers when they caught him by the lake trying to escape with Kimberley. He wore the standard prison uniform, his brown eyes had knowledge of everyone in the room as he scanned the ward. The prisoners had come to respect him as a sort of councillor and resentful leader, within a few short strides he was at the bedside and offered his hand to the still confused Elias.