Garden of Spiders Volume 1: A Companion Book to The Fallocaust Series Book 3

by Quil Carter

  Silas turned away, ignoring my request. He looked back down to Cristo, but there was no smirk on his face.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” Silas said into the microphone. And at this, the crowd went wild. “Bring him closer.”

  The thiens dragged Cristo until Silas raised a hand. Cristo stared up at the king, and I saw that his head was held up high and his stance was straight and prideful. It seemed that I was more scared than Cristo, I hoped that meant he knew he’d eventually be okay.

  He was going to be okay. He was going to be okay.

  “This is a warning to any man who defies the royal family,” Silas said loudly. His voice was still echoing over the cheering crowd. “To any man or woman who decides to betray the king who saved them from the radiation… watch closely.” He let out a low and lurid laugh, the hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle. “Yes, watch closely…”

  “… You may never see this happen again, my loves.”

  I looked to Silas in shock and confusion.

  “But I do love showing off my power when need be.”

  What was he… talking about?

  Suddenly Silas’s eyes turned black.

  And below us, Cristo screamed.

  What was happening? I looked down and let out a strangled cry when I saw Cristo, his eyes were rolling back into his head and his body shaking, so hard the thiens were having trouble holding him up. It looked like he was having a seizure, something was going wrong with him.

  And Silas was doing it.

  “NO!” I shrieked. My fingers clawed the railing as the turmoil swarmed me like a thousand wasps. “NO!”

  Cristo’s neck craned back and his head twisted, his own fingers were bent into claws and his shoes kept twisting and digging into the arena’s dirt. He looked like he was in agony, like something was killing him from the inside.

  “SILAS!” I yelled. I grabbed his jacket and pulled him desperately. “STOP!” I wailed. “Silas PLEASE! SILAS, PLEASE STOP!” I grabbed his arm and dug my fingernails into it, but the king’s black eyes were fixed on the man below that he was torturing. He didn’t even look at me.

  Then Cristo let out a scream, a scream that reached down my throat to grab my heart and rip it out of my chest. My gaze turned to him, and I screamed with Cristo when I saw a gush of blood burst from his nose and his eyes. It drenched his face and made it red, everything was red but the whites of his eyes, the blue fully rolled back into his head.

  He was then hit by a pop bottle by someone in the crowd. Cristo’s legs ceased to work, and the legionaries lowered him to the ground. I saw sheets of blood fall from his face as he slumped over. And then I saw blood begin to drip down his ears.

  “NO! PLEASE!” My screams were easily drowned out by the spectators. They were animals now, some time in the midst of this madness they’d transcended from being normal Skyfallers to beasts of ferocious natures. They were jeering, booing, shouting threats, and throwing food and garbage. These were not people, but monsters who showed no differences when put side to side with ravers.

  I turned away, unable to see what was happening, but to my horror, Silas grabbed me and turned me back towards the carnage. “Watch!” he snarled.

  Cristo’s head was now being held up, blood glistening in the bright lights strung above the arena. His blue eyes were now visible, wide eyes that hinted of a confusion that destroyed my heart further. He didn’t even know where he was anymore, Silas had damaged his brain.

  I had to get to him. I had to do something!

  I couldn’t be helpless. I can’t be helpless!!

  “Nero.”

  … Nero? When Silas said this into the microphone I turned around to see where my brother was, but all I saw were Ellis and Garrett with tears streaming down their faces, the two of them holding hands as they watched what was going on in the arena below. Nero was gone.

  Then I looked down when movement caught my eye, and saw Nero walking into the arena with a polished machete in his hand.

  “Nero!” I cried. I stood up on one of the railings and leaned over so he could hear me. “Nero! Don’t!”

  Nero didn’t turn towards me, he kept walking towards Cristo and the two legionaries.

  He stopped in front of Cristo and stared down at his sengil.

  Cristo looked up at him… and I saw a weak smile, then his lips moved.

  Around Nero, the stadium roared and cheered, and then I heard a chant.

  “Nero! Nero! Nero!”

  Nero looked around, and as his neck turned to take in the people cheering him, I saw a look on his face that I’d never forget. A look that destroyed the bond I’d made with my brother when we were both trying to survive that mall.

  I saw excitement.

  “Nero?” I whimpered. I climbed onto the railing, kneeling right on it now, and shook my head back and forth. “Nero… please don’t.”

  Nero turned, but he didn’t look at me. He only looked to Master Silas.

  And Master Silas nodded to him.

  Cristo’s blue eyes flickered to Silas’s.

  Then to mine.

  We made eye contact, the two of us, and for that brief moment when we took in each other, the crowds of people quieted down, and the glaring look from Silas, the excitement from Nero, vanished.

  It was just me and him.

  And when his lips moved, I recognized the mouth movements.

  “I love you. I’m sorry.”

  “NERO!” Silas snarled beside me. “FINISH HIM!”

  “CRISTO!” I screamed. “I love you! I LOVE YOU. DON’T GO!” Just as Nero raised the machete, I slid off of the railing, and as I fell, I saw the shining blade swing before becoming imbedded into Cristo’s neck. The stadium residents let out a collective gasp as they saw me fall through the air, down towards the ground at least twenty-five feet below.

  I landed on the compacted arena floor, both feet on the ground. I ran to Nero and Cristo, and saw the bloodstained machete swing again. I heard the sickening thunk of it making impact with flesh.

  And though I wanted to run to my Cristo, my best friend and my caretaker, when Nero stepped back and I saw what my brother had done to him, my movements halted.

  Cristo was on the ground, wheezing gasps being forced out of lungs that sounded like they were dying. He had a hand on his neck which had blood spraying out from between his fingers, getting on the garbage-covered arena that was already soaking up the previous convict’s blood.

  Then the machete rained down again, this one severing Cristo’s fingers, and making his hand fall dead to his side.

  Cristo?

  Nero turned around, leaving the machete in Cristo’s neck. He made eye contact with me for a brief moment before lowering his head and walking away, leaving me in front of my sengil with the two legionary now standing back.

  Cristo’s mouth opened once, his confused blue eyes now fixed and barely moving. There was so much blood coming from his neck, and now, I only prayed for it to be over quickly.

  But then the shock wore off. Or perhaps it wasn’t the shock, maybe it was the continuous vocal assault from the beasts in the stands. Either way, the reality of where I was and what was happening hit me, and it hit me hard.

  Despair crippled me, absolutely crippled me. I let out a cry of pain, and I ran to him.

  “Cristo!” I screamed. I picked up the machete, the handle slippery and slick, and tossed it away. I put my hand to Cristo’s neck to try and stop the blood, and the other one I rested on the side of his face.

  ͠

  I didn’t realize it then, until I watched the video I saw only once, but I didn’t stop screaming. I didn’t stop screaming his name. I kneeled there, shaking him and trying to force him to wake up, but he wasn’t unmoving.

  ͠

  “Cristo!” I sobbed. I shook him and shook him, I even screamed at the legionaries to get him help. They were adults, and adults had the power. I…

  I was powerless. I was absolutely powerless to help him.

>   Cristo. My sengil, my friend. The man who took care of me and my siblings, who was there when King Silas was in Skyfall. He’d play with me, dress and bathe me, read me stories; he would never forget to bring Tangerine wherever we were going. Cristo was my nurturer, a gentle man who had patience unmatched, and a kind word of encouragement always on his tongue.

  And now he lay here, dead. His head almost severed from his body, his fingers scattered around me like fallen acorns, gone from hands that had taught me how to read, how to write, hands that would force me into a hug. It seemed surreal, but yet this was the first real dose of reality that I’d ever received. The first true loss I’d experienced.

  I’ll never see him again. I’ll never hear his voice again.

  I broke down and began to sob. I buried my face into his and felt my tears mix in with his blood. “Cristo… I’m sorry!” I cried. “Don’t leave. I’m sorry. I’M SORRY!” I screamed from agony and clung to him, the knowledge that this would be the last time a hemorrhaging wound in my mind.

  And as I cried into Cristo, the heavy smell of blood around me, I realized something.

  The arena had gone quiet.

  Absolutely quiet.

  I looked up from Cristo’s body, and I saw no cheering or jeering, no booing or garbage being thrown. I saw the faces of countless arian men and women staring at me with their eyes wide and their mouths open. I saw shame on their faces, and I saw sadness. The thousand plus people who’d demanded from the Crown their gore and carnage; entertainment needed for the bloodthirsty beast that struggled free during every execution.

  These beasts had been humbled and shamed, and now they stared at me with regret heavy on their faces and remorse deeply buried inside their cores

  It was so silent in this arena, I could hear my own breathing, my own desperate chokes.

  And my own voice saying, “Someone help him.”

  I looked up at the two legionary and saw tears in their eyes. “Help him,” I whimpered. “Please… someone help him.”

  Then behind me, I heard Nero. I turned around but it wasn’t him my eyes went to. It was Silas who was walking down the entrance to the arena, a look of flames on his face. He was glaring me down but my heart was too broken to care for the anger I could hear crackling below the surface.

  “Come, Elish,” Silas said, his voice venom.

  My lips pursed and I turned from him. I put a hand on Cristo’s head and more tears slipped from my cheeks. I petted his bearded face, and when I looked down, I saw that his tongue had been cut out of his mouth.

  “You have nothing to say for yourself? Nothing to say to Elish?”

  He couldn’t say a thing. And Silas had known this.

  But I saw his mouth move. I knew Cristo loved me and I loved him.

  “Elish. I said come here.”

  I looked down at my sengil, and said a quiet goodbye to him. I then rose to my feet, the dead quiet arena amplifying every movement I made.

  I loved Cristo.

  I loved Cristo and now he was gone.

  My mind began to clear, like my own thoughts were a bright light burning away the morning fog. And in the silence of my mind, and the silence in the stadium around me, I had a moment of clarity.

  Tonight is the last night I will ever feel love towards someone.

  This I promised myself.

  It’s too painful when something happens to them. And with Silas as our king… something will always happen to them.

  “Elias, I said COME HERE!”

  Slowly I turned around, and saw Silas’s flashing green eyes glaring down at me. There were no masks over his face, no more layers to be peeled back; I saw the monster that hid underneath his skin – and I found that I recognized him.

  My eyes rose to meet Silas’s. And my gaze joined the countless others around us, all staring down at their king.

  “I don’t love you,” I whispered, low enough for only him to hear it. And when I saw the rage on his face give a flare, cauterizing each hostile feature he had, I found that this naked display of anger was only fuelling my own feelings, and my own bravery.

  I looked at the king, right in the eyes, and in front of thousands of gazes, I said to him:

  “Who could ever love you?”

  CHAPTER 10

  I folded up my bedding neatly and put my pillows on top of it. I picked up both and walked out of the bedroom I used to share with my brothers.

  I walked downstairs and crossed the playroom, then through the hallway I entered the room at the furthest side of the second floor apartment. I put down my bedding, right beside the other boxes of my belongings and turned around to grab the next thing.

  Garrett was standing in the archway of the hall. He was looking at me with his light green eyes heavy with sadness, and his socked foot kicking the grey carpet.

  “Silas says we’re not allowed our own rooms until we’re ten,” he said in a small voice.

  I walked past him without a word and headed up the stairs. Garrett sniffed and trailed my quick steps. He watched as I grabbed more boxes and stared sadly at the bare mattress and box spring that no longer had my purple comforter on it.

  “Please don’t leave,” Garrett whimpered. And when I turned around I saw that Nero and Ellis were behind him.

  “Eli… I’m sorry,” Nero said sadly. “I had to obey his orders…”

  “Help me bring my bed down,” I said quietly. This may have been the first words I’d spoken since it happened.

  Nero looked past me at the bed. His shoulders rose and fell as he took in a deep breath, then he nodded. “Okay.” Nero walked past me towards the bed and called Garrett and Ellis over to help him. I picked up a large box, containing my books inside, and went to make another round downstairs.

  I began putting my things away and eventually Nero came down with the box spring, Garrett and Ellis with the mattress, and by the time they were done, Nero had returned with the metal bedframe my bed had been on.

  “We’re going to miss you,” Nero said when everything had been brought down to this room. He was hovering around the entrance to my new bedroom. He hadn’t gotten the hint that I wanted to be left alone. “We’ve been sleepin’ in the same room since we were babies… we even were when we were all inside our steel mothers.”

  I began putting my books into the bookshelf that was already in this room. It had a dresser also but I had to take down my nightstand by myself. It appeared that everything I’d need was here. This would make a good bedroom… and it was as far away from every other resident in this two-storey prison.

  Far away from Silas.

  “Thank you for helping me,” I said, my voice dead and distant. It wasn’t the only thing decaying inside of me, it felt like my entire self was succumbing to rot. In the course of an evening, my whole world had changed, and my personal philosophy had been turned upside-down. Everything was different, everything hurt, and getting as far away from this family as I could was the most my powerless self could do.

  Nero eventually went to go play video games in the playroom. I was left to my own devices and I distracted myself with making my bedroom my own. I planned on going to the Skyland stores by myself to get decorations for my walls, and perhaps a television and a VHS or a DVD player since I didn’t want to go upstairs for television anymore.

  So far my new bedroom looked nice. The walls were beige which gave the room the look of an adult’s room and the carpet was grey like all of the carpeted area downstairs. There was my single bed in the corner and my night table with a lamp, my bookshelf full of books and my dresser. The far wall had large windows from ceiling to floor, which were covered with crimson curtains, and on the wall beside it, I’d hung a poster of the universe and the planets on it. Then I put my personal effects on top of the dresser and side table, just trinkets before the Fallocaust I’d gotten and treasured, and… I believe I was done.

  There was nothing more for me to do here but I didn’t want to go upstairs. Caleb had fled to the greywastes up
on hearing what had happened and we now had no sengils watching us and Silas was out being king. He hadn’t asked me to shadow him after the incident, and I hadn’t asked to come. He’d be home in the evenings but I wasn’t planning on coming upstairs to greet him.

  I decided to work on my studies. I grabbed my zippered binder full of my school work and sat down on my bed. I unzipped it and opened it up to the where I’d left off.

  No… where we’d left off.

  I swallowed down the stinging pulse in the back of my throat when I looked down to see Cristo’s checkmarks on my completed history homework. I quickly turned the page to a blank section, and for a moment, I closed my eyes tight.

  We were supposed to start the chapter on World War Two before he’d taken us and left. He was excited about teaching me because it was such an important precursor to the Second Cold War which would happen decades later. He’d said we could watch war movies together; Nero had been excited. He loved war movies.

  I remember Cristo saying as well that we could only watch them when Silas was at work, because Silas hated war movies since he was in the Second Cold War.

  My eyes opened and I sniffed and rubbed my nose. Now I didn’t feel like doing history schoolwork but I decided to challenge myself and get it done anyway. I’d eventually have to do it and this way I could steel myself to those emotions and stop myself from feeling anything when the reminders cropped up.

  And that was what I did. I submerged myself in school work and ignored the world going on around me.

  Sometime in the evening, Silas called us for dinner. I didn’t move and he didn’t come down to get me. I heard my siblings upstairs, their own voices quiet and subdued. It would seem the three of them were on their best behaviour after what had happened.

  Dinner ended. They remained upstairs and I heard nothing from Silas. Eventually I finished my schoolwork and put everything away, then I went to sleep undisturbed.

  It wasn’t until the next morning that Silas opened the door of my new bedroom. I was already awake, the growling inside of my empty stomach keeping me from sleeping peacefully.