ya_assemble | [LN] Send in the clowns

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[LN] Send in the clowns

This was a nightmare. Except it wasn't a nightmare. Tino had pinched himself no less than eight times and still hadn't woken up. Eight times!

The last thing he remembered, he was hanging out with his friends, sitting on the small wall at the beach. Then he'd lost consciousness and woken up in a strange, dark scary warehouse. One that seemed to be full of carnival equipment. Here and there an ominous sight peeped out from the shadows, illuminated by beams of light through the holes in the warehouse roof. A carousel horse with faded paint here, a rusted sign with a teddy bear face on it there.

"Okay, I'm ready to wake up now!" he called out. "Totally ready to wake up. Ready to commit to that waking up thing like a champ and give it one hundred and ten percent."

He wasn't waking up.

"Waking up in three, two, one...go!" Nope. "Annnd...go!"

That wasn't working. Why wasn't it working?!

Tino turned around to find a clown statue staring at him and let out a high-pitched screech of terror and ran away from it, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did it, until he was a good distance away.

"Where's the way out? Come on come on come on..."

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The broken glass everywhere cut his feet as he skittered across it, though not too deeply. He was too tough and calloused, but not enough for the cuts to still not be painful.

But nothing was worse than what would happen if he returned without completing his mission.

Nothing was worse than having to go without seeing it when he might have.

When Tino was focused on the mirror in front of him, Gollum leaped on his back from behind, one long-fingered, spindly, but horribly strong hand latching onto his neck and squeezing while the other reached for the pipe.

Tino let out a screech of mortal terror that was cut off by the hand grasping at his throat. Fortunately, even though he was a very timid boy, his first instinct was still to fight.

Of course, that 'fighting' was really terrified flailing, but it was still better than nothing. He wound up dropping to his hands and knees from the weight of the - the whatever-it-was clinging to him, more tears brimming in his eyes from the pain of the glass cutting into his skin. He elbowed his attacker viciously, twisting and trying to throw him off, until he finally managed to kick him hard on the stomach, losing a flip flop in the process.

This meant as he got up and ran off, he had to run over the broken glass with one of his feet bare. If he hadn't been gasping for air, he would've been screaming. As it was, tears of pain and terror were pouring down his face as he ran.

He had never been hurt like this before. The worst he'd ever gotten was a sprained wrist one time when he'd forgotten to wear his wrist guards while roller blading. But now his hands and knees were bloody and stuck full of glass and his foot was stuck full of glass and leaving a trail of blood as he limped away as fast as he could, trying to find a door out of the warehouse.

He didn't kow what to do. He couldn't even scream because he was still gasping for breath and he didn't know what that thing was and he could barely see because he was crying and he could barely walk and -

Something was trying to kill him! Something that looked like an alien or a goblin or a zombie!

All he could do was run and try to ignore his throbbing foot each time he stepped down on it.

"You just - have to be - like Captain Dreadnaught," he choked out to himself. "In issue - twenty-two."

The one where he broke out barefoot from the slimelord prison and ran over broken glass and still fought every single one of the aliens with just a gun he'd made out of a bar of soap. If he could just get out of here into the light, where maybe he could find some people that could help him -

Not 'if.' He had to find people that could help him. If he died then his friends would be sad and his mom had Dixon but he knew it would devastate her if he was killed by a zombie in a random warehouse. And what if it didn't work out with her and Dixon? Then she'd be all alone.

If Tino was determined to survive - and clearly he was - Gollum was equally determined to kill him.

He had to. He had to stop the little boy who had just enough of the touch of the White Face about him that he almost didn't even want to look at the boy. It was an ugly sheen, threatening to become too bright for his eyes to handle.

Leave it alone, let too much of that sheen grow, and he wouldn't even be able to wring the nasty little thing's neck without burning his poor hands. Leave it alone too long and it might become a horrible beacon, burning away all the safe, cool darkness, impossible to look at and making the air burn around him.

There were a number of them, he already knew, even if he didn't know the exactly number. The terrible bright ones who burned too brightly for him to do anything but hide from. They'd strip every friendly shadow from the world, and he'd wither and burn and freeze all at once in that terrible light.

He didn't want to know how many there already were. He didn't want there to be more.

But more than that -

He screeched with frustration as the boy elbowed him off, into a pile of broken glass. Now his skin, less calloused than the soles of his feet, bled freely, and that pain spiked his frustration and fear into a furious rage.

"We must sees it again, Precious! WE MUST HAVE IT!"

And the nasty little bright boy wouldn't stop him. He threw himself across the broken glass, ignoring the scrapes and cuts and the bleeding and the pain, and threw himself at the fleeing child.

He gripped the neck with both hands this time, pressing expertly down where the blood needed most to flow.

He went down under Gollum's weight, but still twisted around so he was on his back to try to get his legs under him to kick his attacker. But the creature was too strong. Every time he managed to twist and get a little gap in his hands so that he wasn't being choked, he readjusted his grip.

Tino gasped, hungry for air, punching and scratching at the creature's face furiously, smearing his own blood on the creature as he did it, but he wasn't a very strong boy, even with all those games of horseshoes, and through the blur of tears in his eyes, the world started to go black.

The worst part was that he didn't understand why. He didn't understand why he was in this place or why he was dying. He didn't understand.

And he wasn't strong enough to fight anymore so that meant he never would.

His eyes started to roll back in his head.

I'm sorry mom...

The ruckus will be broken by a nearby door opening, and Korra peers into it. She squints into the darkness, before calling up a flame in her palm. "Hey, looking for a ki--" She stops, staring in horror for several seconds before her face contorts into anger and fear.

She stomps in, extinguishing the flame to do a sweeping motion with both hands, and shoving out a concentrated blast of air. It's not elegant, but the first thought in her mind is to get that thing off of Tino. That thing that very much has her unsettled. The blood and choking doesn't help.

"Get off of him!"

It's one of them! The ones that shine too bright, that have more than the moon about them. This one is like a furnace, the thing inside her too powerful and bright for him to even stand the sight of her, and the wind obeys her.

The wind hits him like a fist and sends him flying, and he lands on broken glass and disappears into the nearest shadow. No, no, no no no. Now he won't see his Precious, but he'll never see it again at all if he dies.

He flits from shadow to shadow, looking for the door - if she uses her fire again, if she takes the shadows away, he'll never make it out. Must hurry. Must be quick.

Tino regained consciousness once bloodflow returned but nearly being strangled to death wasn't exactly easy on a person. His head was pounding and he was still dizzy and he was hyperventilating, coughing and choking as he tried to suck in air.

His vision was red. He saw a girl standing there that hadn't been there before but she was blurred and he didn't know where the creature was so he tried to move towards the light coming through the door she'd left open.

But when he tried to drag himself to his feet and run something strange happened. His breathing seemed to speed up and the world around him slowed down. The girl slowed down to a crawl like she was moving in slow motion. Motes of dust that had been whirling in the light coming down in rays from the holes in the ceiling suddenly froze in place.

Tino hobbled a few steps forward, then stumbled, hobbled a few more steps and fell again, too weak to stay on his feet. To him, he moved normally. To anyone watching he had staggered forward in a burst of superspeed, fallen, then jolted forward again at superspeed before collapsing to the ground again.

"Oh no you don't--!" Korra swallows, clenching her fists. She needs to find out where he went, but the firelight can only reach so far, and, well. Throwing fire around isn't exactly safe.

There's a momentary distraction in this kid moving freaky-fast, and then falling down. That unnerves her more - she's pretty sure she's only seen spirits move that quick. Then again, the others that have came to this world have had some pretty odd powers - maybe this kid is just that fast. Either way, though, he's down, and she's not about to let that monster back at him.

She steps forward and over Tino, putting herself between him and Gollum, and takes up a waterbending stance. She clenches her jaw to bite back how shaken up she is by the situation - it's just dark in here is all. That's where most of it's coming from. If it wasn't dark, this place would just be a building.

At that, Korra's eyes go white, and she speaks, though it isn't entirely her own voice. "If it is light you need, allow me." After a few swooping hand motions, small bright beacons appear around Korra. She guides them out, arranged in an outward-facing curve several feet in front of her.

He screamed as if the light burned him. Because it did.

Eyes squinted shut, Gollum flitted from scant remaining shadow to shadow, trying to outrun the light and reach the door before the wizard did away with all his exits.

Light. Bright light. Was he dying? There was supposed to be a tunnel, right? With a bright light at the end? All those shows where people bilked other people out of their money by pretending to be psychics mentioned stuff like that.

Except he was still breathing, even if he was breathing too fast and even if it hurt his throat. His body ached and after that weird...thing he'd done when he moved, he was exhausted, but he still felt firmly alive.

No, it was the lady that'd come in. She was standing over him, protecting him, light appearing from her hands and floating in the air in a way that made it clear she had superpowers. Like the Lady Elmiron in the King of the Rings books. Or Photonagora in his Captain Dreadnaught comics.

The voice she spoke with was eerie, especially since the pounding in his ears made it sound like it was coming through a long tunnel, but at the same time...it wasn't. It was scary in a way that made it seem like it was only supposed to be scary to evil things. The layers added a strange depth that wasn't necessarily bad.

And the light was too bright but it was also beautiful.

Tino closed his eyes against the light and blacked out again, as if his injured and overtaxed body had decided that the presence of the young woman meant it was safe enough to do so.

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[LN] Send in the clowns

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