"Why are you leaving again?"
Dean heard someone calling out from behind. He didn't turn around. He knew if he turned around he'd be brought back to the monastery where he would spend the rest of his days.
Ahead of him lay a shining city. A million lights glowing in the night. It felt exciting and new in stark contrast to the dark, cold landscape behind him.
"Don't go, please."
He knew who was behind him. They had been his friends since childhood. Addi. Small, pale of skin with red eyes and white hair. She always had a mischievous smile, as if everything was a potential joke or prank. Matin, who'd stayed by his side no matter what. He clung to Dean like a little brother despite being slightly older. Rosetta, a girl with a prickly attitude but deep down had stronger insecurities than anyone else. Maria, the mature and responsible older friend he could turn to when he needed help. And finally, Nicolas. The quiet boy, always serious but whose face lit up whenever he discovered something new to record in that little notebook of his.
Dean was leaving them behind. He wanted to be his own man, free from the shackles of the monastery and it's twisted religion. The city stood there, inviting him, offering the freedom he so desperately needed.
A sharp scream full of pain. Despite what he had promised himself, Dean turned around. The screams belonged to Addi. She was on fire, a huge conflagration had burst out from under her, turning her to ash..
"Dean, help!" Rosetta screamed as she fell to the ground, clutching her throat.
He turned back towards the city. The city was derelict. There was no longer anything there for him- no friends or family. He turned around and ran back to his friends. But he was too late. All that remained was a handful of corpses.
"Oh now, look what you've gone and done now."
A disembodied voice whispered in his ear. He turned around, looking in every direction, but all he saw was darkness and the corpses of his friends. The city had long since disappeared.
"You ran away and left them to deal with their troubles alone."
"Me being there wouldn't have made a difference." Dean replied.
"Oh? Is that confidence in your friends or a lack of it within yourself?"
Dean didn't answer. Addi and the rest — they didn't need him to live happily. They were more than strong enough to do that themselves.
"Then how did it come to this? They died, and all you could do was run away. Can you really say this was out of your hands? Couldn't you have made even a slight difference? Saved one of them?"
"No," Dean whispered.
"That's right. How could you when you haven't even managed to save yourself?"
Dean shook his head. This was all wrong. He had come back to save them. If they weren't here, he would have had no reason to return to this awful place.
"That person needed you most of all, you know."
"Stop it." Dean said. He covered his ears, but the voice came from inside his head. He could not escape it.
"No matter how powerful someone may be, we cannot face all our demons alone. You know this now, don't you?"
He heard a loud cackle, and a sudden stabbing pain erupted in his stomach. He fell to the ground clutching his waist.
"Yes, this is what you want, isn't it?"
Dean closed his eyes in pain. The voice continued to mock and laugh at him. It was right. This was how it should be. He deserved all the pain in the world for his rotten actions.
*
When he opened his eyes, he was on the ground in the great hall. His rifle had fallen to the floor in front of him but remained untouched.
Groaning, he slowly got to his feet. He steadied himself on the nearby chair as his vision distorted and swung from side to side. Dispelling the dizziness with a deep breath, he blinked and looked around.
The entrance hall of the guesthouse. Yes, he'd been on the lookout when...
He felt a strong chill. In fact, his entire body was freezing. He couldn't feel his fingers or toes.
"What the hell." He muttered.
He turned and felt his heart leap into his mouth.
The front door was wide open.
"No, no no, no, no." he repeated as he ran towards the open entrance. Outside was an impenetrable wall of white, not another soul in sight. He turned away from the biting cold and closed the door before turning back towards the inside.
He looked around, and to his surprise he found Mitch lying by the wall. The man was still unconscious, so he approached him and checked his pulse. He was still alive, probably having been drugged like Dean.
"Shit." Dean cursed under his breath.
Dean sprinted up the stairs, stumbling a little as his foot caught on one of the steps. He turned left and made his way to the VIP guest room. He slammed the door open and looked inside.
Figures moved in the dark, disturbed by his sudden entrance.
"Dean, what's the matter, dear?" Layota's sleepy voice came from inside the room.
Dean felt the tension slacken, and he had to lean against the wall to keep himself from falling to his knees. Layota and the kids were safe.
He switched the room light on, which elicited complaints from the waking children. Ignoring them, he looked around the room.
Layota looked at him with concern in her eyes. Mark rubbed his eyes and muttered a complaint. The other children were in a similar state.
"Dean, is something wrong?"
Matin was also present and was looking at Dean with fear in his eyes.
"The front door was open." Dean said.
"What?"
Matin bolted up from where he'd been sleeping but seemed to suffer from a light head and nearly fell over on the spot.
Dean continued to look around. How could he have been so careless? He should have listened to Matin when he warned him about the tea. But it couldn't have been that first cup. He had drunk that hours before falling unconscious.
"Methaeus! Dean cursed.
The old man had made a cup for Mitch and him before going to bed.
"Cait, Joan and Methaeus. Are they here?" He asked, looking around wildly.
The others in the room did the same, but they soon came to realize that those three had indeed gone missing.
"Were Methaeus and Matin not supposed to take the second watch?" Layota asked.
Matin's face grew pale.
"I'm sorry, I overslept!" he said, burying his face in his hands.
"No, I was supposed to wake you up," Dean said. "We were probably drugged."
Everyone, including himself and Mitch, had slept most of the night away. There was only so much you could blame on exhaustion. Two people on watch should have been able to keep each other awake for a few hours.
"Methaeus gave Mitch and I some tea, he's probably responsible." Dean said.
"Methaeus? We've known him all our lives. It couldn't have been him. It was her. it must've been." Matin muttered.
Dean didn't have to ask who he meant. The suspicion people felt toward Cait did not lessen no matter the circumstance.
"Cait was already in this room with you when Methaeus gave me the tea." Dean countered. "It couldn't have been her."
Matin didn't respond and just shook his head as if trying to shake off a dizzy spell.
"She went down to the kitchen with Joan to get some water soon after we came up here. She easily could've done it then." Matin said.
"Arguing now won't do any good."
A groggy, low voice came from behind, causing Dean to turn around and point his rifle at the doorway. Standing there calm, if a little shaky on his feet, stood Mitch.
Dean lowered his rifle.
"I see you've decided to wake up." Dean said sarcastically. "Good morning"
Mitch nodded.
"Rather than point fingers, maybe you should decide what you want to do next. Assuming those three are still alive, what do you mean to do about it?"
Dean stopped to think for a moment. Mitch was right. Time wasn't on his side here. If he kept his personal feelings out of his reasoning, then it was possible that either Cait or Joan could have also betrayed them. But Joan was just a child, and he didn't want to suspect Cait. It must have been Methaues, there was no other explanation. There would be no other explanation.
"Every time we try to bunker down, something goes wrong. I'm tired of waiting around."
Everyone was silent as Dean made his decision.
"Layota, do you have more magazines for this rifle lying around?"
With that said, Dean began his preparations. He had had enough and was going to put an end to this sorry story. One way or another.
"I'm coming with you." Matin said.
Dean looked at his friend. Matin had changed since his mother's death. There was a hardness in his eyes, a determination that Dean would have been delighted to see in any other situation..
"Cait is one of the people I'm trying to save, you know."
"That doesn't matter. I wanted to go with you when you went down the mountain, but mother stopped me, but she isn't here to stop me this time so I'm going with you."
There was a bit of the old Matin in those words. Dean smiled and nodded before turning to Mitch, who shrugged in response.
"You want me with you as well?"
Mitch spoke before Dean could even ask. Dean thought for a moment. The man had been knocked out too. He had to be trustworthy enough to leave with the orphans. Well, there wasn't much choice either way.
"Are you in the business of guarding innocent orphans?" Dean asked.
Mitch chuckled and shook his head.
"There's no profit to be had there."
Dean leveled a stare at the middle-aged weapon's dealer.
"However," Mitch continued, "I can't go anywhere with this blizzard might as well get some people indebted to me while sitting about. Who knows? There's a small chance one of these gnats will become wealthy in the future."
"Good enough." Dean said.
His rationale was incredibly flawed, but perhaps this was how the man justified helping people. Dean would take what he could get.
After about ten minutes. Dean and Matin stood in the entrance hall, armed and ready.
"This is beyond dangerous." Layota protested. "You're going to get yourselves killed."
Dean didn't reply. After all, the woman spoke the truth more or less. What they were doing was incredibly stupid. Neither of them had any experience with firearms, and they were going to take on a large group of armed cult members. But Dean had one thing that gave him confidence.
"For some reason, Nicolas has been oddly fixated on keeping me alive. I think that's going to count for something here."
The rifles were just for show anyway. He meant to walk right up to Nicolas rather than shooting him from a distance. He reached out towards the handle of the kitchen knife he had hidden in his jacket, checking to see if it was secure.
The simple truth was that his back was against the wall. He had to go if he wanted to save Cait and Joan. He didn't want to lose anyone else.
Layota gave him a complicated look. She still didn't agree, but she nodded.
"Please save those girls if you can."
Dean nodded and turned towards the front doors.
Outside, the snow continued to fall. He stepped out, Matin at his side, and they made their way towards the cathedral. He wasn't sure where Nicolas was hiding now, but the cathedral seemed like the obvious place to start.
It was eerily quiet in the courtyard. The only sound coming from the snow as it was crushed beneath their feet. The snow had grown so high at this point that it reached Dean's waist at some points. They moved slowly and carefully.
"We're not going in through the main entrance, right? Maybe we should try a side entrance?" Matin suggested, looking towards the large double doors of the cathedral.
"I gotta better idea." Dean said.
He remembered the servant entrance that Rosetta had used before. It had been locked, but he made sure to remember the code to gain entry. They walked down the narrow yard space between the cathedral and the library and into the equipment shed. To Dean's surprise, the door to the catacombs and basement was being held open by a brush.
"It's like someone wants us to come snooping." Dean noted.
The catacombs were as dank and musty as he'd remembered. Matin used a torch to light their way.
"There's a chance they're keeping Cait and the rest in the dungeons down here." Dean said.
He remembered how he had found Cait tied to the wall with shackles. Not a place any human being should be kept. He quickened his pace through the dark corridors.
"They're actually still using this place?" Matin asked.
"Surprised that people you've lived with all your life have been up to something so inhumane?" Dean asked.
He made it sound like an accusation. To be honest, he'd had enough of this place and the people who ran it. Matin made a complicated expression.
"If they were locking people down here, then..."
Matin didn't finish what he was going to say, but Dean was happy to see a glint of anger behind his spectacles.
"Did you know about this, Mother?" Matin whispered to himself.
They eventually made their way to the crossing of corridors which led to the cells. After a quick search, they confirmed that nobody was present. Dean sighed relief.
"Guess we can continue on to the basement."
Surprisingly, they met no resistance. Even the previously occupied hallways of the basement seemed eerily empty. The offices and studies were left alone, with books and files left on the tables in mid-use.
"Where are you hiding?" Dean muttered to himself.
He could feel his arms getting tired from holding the rifle up and risked lowering it a little. The silence was painful to the point of making him feel nauseous. It wasn't right, this kind of silence.
"Maybe they've gone to the library?" Matin suggested after they completed the search of the cathedral's backrooms.
Dean nodded.
"Wherever they are, they're not here now. Well, might as well check the nave before moving on."
If there was nobody in the offices out back, then it was unlikely that they were all hanging out in the main hall since it was exposed to the elements. Dean quietly opened the door to the main hall and looked out.
It was empty.
"Well, guess it's a dud." He said, feeling himself relax slightly.
As he reached the center of the room, Dean realized Matin wasn't following. At that moment, a horrid smell reached his nose.
"Dean," Matin said, voice shaking. He was looking toward the altar.
Dean turned around to see what Matin was talking about and was met with a horrific sight. Someone had been nailed to the tree the back of the cathedral. Blood flowed down the trunk, creating a little stream that now dripped down the steps of the altar.
Methaeus' blank eyes stared sightlessly ahead. Whoever had done this to him and done more than simply kill the old man. His body had been desecrated in unspeakable ways. Those massive nails, thick enough to pierce stone, held him up by his palms and feet. His stomach had been cut open and head smashed in. There was more, but Dean turned away, unable to look a moment longer.
He felt his stomach constrict and was forced to empty its contents onto the marble floor. Matin fared no better.
"Why? Why did they do this?" Dean whispered through gritted teeth.
Methaeus. It had been almost certain that the old man was complicit in the tragedies that had been occurring in the monastery. He was the abbot. He had to have known something about what was going on. And yet, looking at him now, Dean felt all his suspicion melt away. The part of his brain that still functioned told him that death did not equate to innocence. That Methaeus still could have played a part. Yet in his heart, he could not bring himself to care anymore.
He got to his feet and wiped the bile from his mouth. He gritted his teeth, mentally prepared himself and approached Methaeus. Despite his preparations, the potent smell almost made him lose what little was left inside his stomach.
"Sorry," Dean whispered.
He wasn't exactly sure why he was apologising. Was it for the suspicion he had leveled at Methaues or the manner in which he died?
"Nobody deserves this."
Dean looked down and noticed a blood-stained piece of paper sticking out of Methaeus' pockets. Gently, he pulled the paper out and unfolded it.
Day of rebirth party. Library, rooftop. Let's have some fun and dance, dance, dance!
Maria and Nick
The note was written out like a birthday party invitation. The playful childishness of the writing coupled with the morbid scene in which Dean had found himself made him laugh. It was the soft, dark chuckle of a mind trying to rationalise the situation.
"After all this, they're having a party?" He whispered.
Matin, who had just recovered from the sight, approached Dean on unsteady feet. He glanced over his shoulder at the note.
"Looks like we know where to go. Are we...?"
"Of course I am," Dean said, swallowing some stomach acid that had come up. He crumpled the paper in his hands.
Dean felt the rage burning inside him. It destroyed what little reason he had left. The only thing he could think of was Nicolas and Maria. His former friends, who had caused this entire mess. If he let them be, it could be Matin, Joan or Cait who suffered next. No, Cait and Joan might have already met the same fate as Methaeus.
"I won't ask you to come with me, Matin." Dean said, turning to face his friend.
Matin, whose eyes were wide with fear a moment ago, looked at him with the kind of nervous resolve one would often see on a fresh recruit of the armed forces.
"I know, but I'm going anyway."
"We're probably going to die up there, you know."
Matin didn't look cowed in the slightest. If anything, he straightened up even more.
"If I have to choose between dying up there with you or dying trapped in that guest house, then the answer should be obvious. Besides, I can't explain it well but, I want to... talk to them too. I'm coming with you."
Dean nodded and smiled a little. He felt fear, genuine fear, at that very moment. The people who could so thoroughly destroy a person like they had done to Methaeus awaited them on that rooftop. If he were alone, he truly might have fled. However, Matin had once again placed his faith in him. What other choice did he have? He had an image to maintain after all.
"Right. Let's shut these fanatics up for good." Dean said.
Matin nodded.
Dean held his rifle all the tighter as he left the Cathedral with Matin by his side. Once again, they found themselves face to face with the icy blizzard.
"Really feels like the world is dying, doesn't it?" He asked Matin, looking up at the dull gray sky. He could just about make out the shape of the library a few feet away. Everything else was lost in the whiteness.
"In all my years coming here, I've never seen it snow so much." Matin agreed.
Dean exhaled, his breath turning to vapor in the cold. There was no chance that rescue would come anytime soon. They would likely be stuck on this mountain for at least a month. It was then Dean realized a painful truth. They were probably not going to leave this place alive. Would he see his mother again when he died? What about Addi and the rest?
According to the beliefs of the Mortian Church; they would be reborn as different people. This of course meant that they would never meet again as themselves. Was there really any comfort in that? Dean wondered if there were other people who believed differently about what happened after death. It was a big world after all. He thought it would be nice if they could meet again as spirits in some eternal promised land. The mind really did act strangely when death came knocking.
He wondered if his father would even care that he had died. That bastard cared for nothing except his company and his standing with the rich and affluent, so it seemed doubtful.
"I wish I had the chance to put all my studies to use. Feels like a waste now." Matin said.
Oddly, he had a smile on his face as he looked at the falling snow.
"You look more alive now than you have in a long time." Dean pointed out.
Matin turned to him in surprise.
"Really?" he asked. "I guess I feel like a massive weight's been lifted from my shoulders — no more studying for tests or training camps, just a fight for survival. It's kinda liberating, I guess?"
Dean laughed. It was the loudest he'd laughed in a long time. It looked as if whatever was causing his funny thoughts was effecting Matin in the exact same way.
"After this is all done, come join me at my place. We can be deadbeats together."
"A deadbeat, huh? I suppose I could give that a try. It'll be a pleasant change of pace."
They reached the door of the massive keep that contained the great library. Its wooden doors were closed, and they could hear no sounds coming from the inside. Dean placed his hand on the door handle and pulled. The entrance opened with a large creaking sound.
The vast cavern-like interior of the library had changed a lot since the last time Dean had visited. Leftover food and drink littered the tables, together with a variety of books. It looked used and untidy. Some piles of charred material dotted the open spaces.
"Looks like they've been using this as their little base," Dean muttered.
Matin pinched his nose.
"What's that smell?" He asked.
Dean recognized it the moment had stepped inside. It reminded him of downtown back alleys and the rooms of college students. A mix of stale alcohol and other more unsavory substances.
"They've been having a bit of fun."
"Is that drugs I smell?" Matin asked, a horrified expression on his face.
Matin, having been brought up in a sheltered environment, was not used to the smell. Dean, on the other hand, knew it well.
"They did look half mad. Maybe this is how Nicolas has been keeping them in check?" Dean wondered aloud.
"By drugging them?" Matin asked.
Dean nodded.
"It's not unusual to use drugs to keep people in line with a certain way of thinking. Some narcotics mess with your brain and leave you open to ideas you wouldn't normally consider."
"Maybe they'll be so out of it, they won't be able to fight back?" Matin asked.
"That or they'll be like a pack of rabid dogs." Dean muttered.
Matin's face looked slightly disturbed as he shook his head.
They continued up the steps to the upper floors. The situation was much the same on each floor, but luckily the library was big enough that the devastation didn't affect all areas.
"Why is there a library so big all the way out here?" Dean asked, giving voice to the question that had been on his mind for years.
"The church has been fairly tight-lipped about its existence," Matin explained. "You won't find it in any tourist guide or textbook. Though word of mouth does bring some tourists here."
"So they've kept all this to themselves?"
Dean hadn't been to many libraries, but this could have easily been in the running for the largest in the world.
"Everyone should be allowed to use something like this," Dean said.
"Well, it would be kinda sad to see it filled with tourists, but it would be better than being monopolised by the few for sure."
The group that had occupied the library until now clearly had little care for its value. The books had been used as kindling for their fires, and they had little care about the amount of rubbish they left behind. Dean could chalk that up as another sin that needed punishment.
"Hey, is that a person?" Matin asked, gesturing towards a distant bookshelf.
Dean followed his friend's gaze and found a person lying against the bookshelf. They rushed over to the sleeping young man and knelt down next to him.
"Hey, you awake?" Dean asked, shaking the man by the shoulder. There was no response.
"He's still breathing, but it's very shallow." Matin said.
"Yeah, and he reeks of alcohol and other things." Dean agreed.
Every now and again, the man would make a low mumbling sound and stir slightly, but beyond that there was no sign that he would be getting up soon.
"He's had a little too much of whatever narcotic they're playing with. I don't think we can help him." Dean said.
Matin nodded silently and stood up, and Dean followed. He looked down at the young man once more. He could have had a part in any of the atrocities that had taken place here. Did that mean he deserved to die? That he didn't deserve to be helped?
"We'll come back for him after we've rescued Cait and Joan," he said eventually, knowing how unlikely that was going to be.
Matin nodded and joined Dean as he walked away.
Once they reached the stairs leading to the roof, Matin swallowed audibly and Dean held his rifle close. They might not make it out alive, but if the orphans, Layota and Cait could then it would all be worth it.
"Time to end this, I suppose," Dean said.
Matin laughed nervously.
"That would've sounded cool if you hadn't added the last part."
"Shut up."
Both of them were afraid, but they had already come this far. There was no turning back. At the top of the stairs was a small door leading to the roof. Dean nodded at Matin and, rifle at the ready, pushed open the door.