Dyatlov Pass [Chapter 9/12]
Feb. 9th, 2009 11:11 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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wl_fanfictionTitle: Dyatlov Pass.
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
x_carnivale_x
Pairing: Chip/Jeff.
Rating: R/NC17 [violence, homosexuality, graphic description of gore]
Summary: The causes of the accident are still unknown. Neither the official inquest, nor attempts by enthusiastic unofficial investigations have solved the mystery.
Author's Notes: Welp, now Jeff is out of the hospital, but he's still plagued by dreams and memories and chills and fright. We get to see a bit more of Jeff and Chip's interaction, along with another flash back in this chapter. Enjoy. :)
Previous Chapters: Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six // Chapter Seven // Chapter Eight //
When Chip had come back into the room, he'd found Jeff sitting on the bed where he'd left him, but this time with his eyes closed, breathing as if he were freezing cold, and shaking violently. Chip walked up and wrapped his arms around Jeff from behind in an attempt to comfort him but upon the contact, Jeff struggled roughly for a moment and Chip could feel his prominent spine and shoulder blades digging into his chest. But Chip stayed sturdy, not letting his grip weaken. He heard Jeff whimpering and shaking and struggling in his arms, and he felt bad, but he knew if he could only get him quiet and calm, it would be alright. He muttered comforts into Jeff's ear and shushed him. And steadily he felt the younger man relaxing. He shook still, but he'd quit struggling, and Chip steadily felt it was alright to loosen his grip. He let his left hand let go of his right wrist and moved his palm to Jeff's sweaty forehead. Chip let his head relax onto his friend's shoulder and gently kissed his temple, still muttering soothing shushes and whispers to him.
Chip closed his eyes as he felt Jeff shiver sporadically, and he went to move his hand across Jeff's forehead again, up towards his hair. But he'd pulled a little harder than he'd meant to, and as his fingers slightly caught on the front line of Jeff's hair, he jolted violently. Chip was sure he hadn't hurt him... so why had he yanked? Chip wasn't sure, and he once again attempted to lull Jeff down, to soothe him. He heard the raven whimper quietly, and Chip muttered Easy... into his ear. Jeff swallowed thickly, and Chip paused before releasing him. To Chip's surprise, Jeff didn't move away, instead he rested there, staring at the wall and breathing heavily, still leaning against Chip.
"You okay?"
Jeff didn't respond. Chip bit his lip and simply grabbed onto Jeff's hand to help stand him up.
"Come on... Let's get you out of here."
::
Chip kept his promise to the doctor, agreeing to keep Jeff in Helsinki. Really he did it for Jeff, knowing that keeping him near the doctor and hospital that already knew his case would be the smartest choice, just in case something were to happen. Chip had spoken with their managers, and the studio had agreed to get them their own suite in the hotel that the others were already staying in. On the drive to the hotel, Chip would occasionally glance from the road into the passenger seat where Jeff sat curled up, his head against the window. Chip said nothing; he really wasn't sure what to say now that he and Jeff were actually alone. He debated calling Drew, to let them all know that he'd actually gotten Jeff out and that he was staying in Helsinki. But for some reason, he didn't. He didn't even move to get his phone. Something told him not to.
They arrived at the hotel and Chip moved to Jeff's side to help him out of the car. Jeff had been silent, which Chip could only expect at this point, and he had been surprisingly unphased by being in the outside world. With a sure arm around Jeff's waist, Chip led him through the front door into the lobby. The room had already been secured and Chip merely brushed by the front desk to pick up the key. The two headed straight for the elevators, ignoring the strange looks employees and other guests were giving them. Once they reached their floor (the highest in the hotel, Chip noted) Chip steadily walked him towards the room, entered, and sat him down on the edge of his cushioned bed. He hoped that Jeff would enjoy the softness, for the bed at the hospital had felt more like rock. But Jeff gave no response, he just sat still with his hands folded gently in his lap.
Chip immediately noticed that Jeff was still wearing the hospital-white shirt and pants, as he hadn't had any of his own clothing available to him there, so he moved quickly to his own suitcase and fetched a tshirt (he thought about getting pants as well, but decided against it. The pants he wore were good enough, and Chip wasn't sure as to how Jeff would react if he attempted to help him change pants.) So instead, he walked towards Jeff and gently gripped the hem of his tshirt, and saw that Jeff made no response. Positive or negative. So he pulled up on it gently, and he half expected that Jeff wouldn't bother to move his arms to allow for the shirt's removal. But he was surprised when like clockwork, Jeff's arms raised and the shirt came off. It was then that Chip actually saw the amount of physical damage done to the the dark-haired boy. He had a fresh scar, which had obviously recently had stitches taken out, across his side, and there were faint remnants of fading bruises, purple, blue, yellowish green, some red and still somewhat fresh. Chip swallowed thickly and forced himself not to notice them. Instead he slid the new shirt onto Jeff, working again like clockwork to re-clothe himself.
After, Jeff was still and stared at the wall. Chip was suddenly unsure as to what to do now. Should they sleep? (Matter of fact, would Jeff even sleep at all?) Should he attempt to get Jeff some food? Or should the two just sit in silence? He opted for the second option, it was only 6 in the evening anyway, much too early to sleep, and Chip knew that neither of them were really ready to face the crushing silence. Chip bit his lip and leaned down and lightly kissed Jeff's cheek and said he'd be right back. But as he turned and reached the door, opening it slowly, he heard Jeff's voice and he turned around to acknowledge him.
"Chip..."
"Yeah, Jeff?"
"Is... Is this h-home?"
Chip closed his eyes and held his breath, and for the first time in a while he felt the need to sob. But he swallowed it back down to the pit of his gut, breathed deeply, and spoke as calmly as he could.
"Not quite. But close... I'll be back in j-just a second. I'm going to see about getting some soup or something for you..."
He started to leave again, but Jeff spoke again. Chip didn't look back this time, afraid he might break if he did, but he paused to listen.
"W-why is it s-so cold?"
Chip grit his teeth and pressed his face against the door frame as he felt the need to sob again.
"I-I don't know, ishka. I'll. I'll turn up the heat."
The room wasn't cold at all. The thermostat even said 76. Chip knew that Jeff usually never let it creep above 70; 72 was burning up for him. He bypassed the thermostat entirely and left the room. Chip walked slowly down the hallway towards the elevator. He knew he could have just called for food, but he needed to walk for a minute. And the front desk thought it very queer that Chip didn't want someone to bring the soup up to the room, but they didn't question, and after a few minutes they gave him a bowl of chicken soup fresh from the kitchen. Chip returned to the room and placed the hot liquid in front of Jeff, but Jeff hardly even acknowledged its existence. But the steam from the soup was creeping up, and Jeff's blue eyes began to water. He blinked silently, and a drop slipped past his eyelids, as if it were a tear. Chip thought it might have been, but at that moment, who could know such a thing?
"You have to eat, Jeff."
Chip was again surprised when he heard Jeff respond to his statement. He hadn't expected any form of response, but it was there, that acknowledgment, as small as it was.
"I know."
Chip wondered how long it'd been since Jeff had actually eaten. He hadn't seen him eat at all in the hospital. That wasn't to say that he hadn't, just that Chip had not witnessed it. But with Jeff's current state, it would not have surprised Chip at all if his friend were essentially starving himself.
But Jeff ate, and ate well. And Chip hoped he felt at least a little better, but he wouldn't
know since Jeff again had reverted to silence. This was the silence that Chip had dreaded; now they were alone, not inside the walls of the hospital, but rather inside the walls of a hotel that, although it was away from the hospital, couldn't feel that much like home at all. Chip was uncomfortable, and he could only dare to take a few glances at the rigid body next to him. He heard Jeff sigh, and Chip swore that his already lily-colored face had paled.
"Can we lie down?"
Chip was surprised again. But he nodded quickly and undid the covers of the bed, Jeff stood so that they could all be pulled back properly. He stood awkwardly beside the bed until Chip had crawled beneath the covers.
Jeff would have been lying if he said he wasn't terrified of his sleep. He wasn't sure if it was because of the memories, or if he was afraid that he might re-wake in that horrible place, that place where the woods outside glowed bright fluorescent colours, but where the inside was dark, and icy, freezing... dank.
Sometimes Jeff wasn't sure where he went when he was staring at the wall, or when he was asleep. He went back there. But it was that mentality that drove him mad. Was home and safety just a dream? Would he wake again back on that grimy floor? The noises, god the noises were terrible. He could hardly describe them anymore, but just because he couldn't express them didn't mean he couldn't remember them. The experience of them had over taken words, had branded the noises into his memory. In fact, he heard them in every moment of quiet. Slams, screams, shudders, cracks, breaks, creaks, screams, squishes, screams, thuds, screams, screams.... God, the screams. It got to a point where Jeff would scream too, mostly when he would wake in the night, but he never could tell his own screams from the screams of his companions. But Jeff didn't scream now. He prayed he wouldn't have to.
He inched his way towards the bed and slid under the covers gingerly, still sitting, his back resting against the headboard. He was rigid, but he relaxed slightly when he felt Chip take his hand.
"Jeff... Come on, let's lie down. We don't have to sleep, just. Come here, I'll hold you."
Jeff nodded and slid downwards. He first rested on his back, but he felt Chip pulling him closer, and he let himself roll onto his side and into Chip's chest. He shivered slightly, and he felt Chip's grip tighten a little. Then suddenly, a hum. Chip was humming into his ear, sweet and soothing noises. A song he knew, a song he had shown Chip years ago.
"Oh, I need the darkness
The sweetness, the sadness
The weakness, oh I need this.
I need a lullaby,
A kiss goodnight
Angel, sweet love of my life...
Oh, I need this..."
Jeff felt the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, he felt calm suddenly, and lips pressed softly against his ear, telling him that he wasn't alone.
"I'm here, Jeff. I'm here and you're safe now."
"I know."
That was all that needed to be said; for the moment, Jeff had forgotten the fears, the worries, the noises. Instead, all he could hear was Chip's soft voice flowing in and out of his ears, tickling his ear drum. And his eyes were very heavy.
::
The first thing Jeff noticed when he awoke was that he was sweating. He was up and conscious, but he kept his eyes closed. For a few moments, he didn't want to look around. He was so cold, but he could feel the sweat dripping down his face. And that sensation was enough in itself to cause even further disorientation. The only thing he really knew was that he was on his stomach, and it was cold...
Steadily, Jeff opened his eyes, but it was to no avail; he still couldn't see a thing. The room was pitch black. His eyes had been closed for a long while, he knew that much, so why weren't they adjusted to the darkness by now? He had no answer. So instead of thinking on it further, he pulled his arms, which had been sprawled outward, closer to his body. And as they drug across the floor Jeff felt a mixture of dust, dirt, and a thick, sticky, and grimy liquid on the floor. He tried not to think about it, although he was fairly sure he knew what it was.
He lifted his head, removing his cheek that had been pressed firmly against the rough floor upwards, and feeling it sting as he did so. Maybe it was cut, at this point he couldn't tell, it was much too cold to be able to tell. He mustered every bit of strength he had and applied pressure against his hands in an attempt to sit up, but he couldn't. He moved a mere few inches off the floor before he felt his elbows and forearms giving way beneath his weight, and he collapsed back to the floor. His eyes were beginning to adjust, but part of him dreaded being able to see, but he knew he would be even further terrified if he could not see his surroundings. With a heavy head, he craned his neck upwards and let his eyes rest on a small window (no more than a 6inx12in) that was up near the ceiling. Much too high up for him to stand and look out of, and much too small for him to even dream of using it as an escape route, if the situation came to that... But from his position on the floor, he could see upward, and up to the sky. Bright flashes occasionally illuminated the otherwise starry sky, and for a moment, Jeff was lost. They glowed the most beautiful colours, pinkish purple, but fiery red, burning across the stars over the mountains. It became too bright and Jeff had to shut his eyes again.
Then a creak. A groan in the floorboards, or what he assumed were the floorboards. And Jeff clenched his eyes stayed perfectly still. But it was silent again. He dared to crack open his eyelids again, and he saw nothing from his limited viewpoint. Steadily he lifted his head from the ground, feeling his cheek sting again, and he forced his neck to turn so he could look at the other side of wherever he was. But as his eyes focused, Jeff's silence was broken.
He stared at the lifeless forms of Rustem and Georgyi. They stared back. But Jeff knew they were dead. They were bloody, practically unrecognizable, Jeff really only knew it was them because of their eyes... their eyes that stared at him.
Jeff's breathing became loud and heavy, and he began to hyperventilate, only being able to pray he would not have another asthma attack. By this point, he was weeping hysterically, and whatever strength he hadn't had before, he suddenly mustered and he shoved himself up into a sitting position so that he could crawl away from the bodies of his companions. He sat on his rear, with his right side and right arm pressed against the wall, pushing him backwards away from the bodies. His left arm held him up, and his right arm helped to push him away. But mid-shove, he stopped. His fingers grazed over a groove in the wall. He let the calloused tips of his fingers trace over the markings that had been so roughly scratched into the stone wall. It was an X, unmistakably so. He let out a loud cry again as he wept, but his fingers kept moving. He felt onward, and next to the X he felt a tiny figure, much like the figures carved into the trees. He moved back to the X, feeling around it, and underneath it, he could feel more etchings. More carvings. Words.
An X over Igor.
He felt onwards.
X over Rustem.
Further.
X over Nicolas.
Further.
No X this time. But there was a word. One. Word.
Jeffrey.
He started to cry out as his breath began to hitch again, but he stopped short and directed his attention towards the dark corner that he knew shadowed the corpses of his friends. And out of the darkness came a scratching and a whisper.
"Poistaa..."
[Chapter Nine Cut]
For those of you slightly confused about the whole thing with the lights in the sky, let me 'splain. Okay, so, in the formal reports it was stated that the bodies tested for very high levels of radiation, and many people living NEAR the mountain said that they had seen bright flashes and colours in the sky during the night. This led to theories about the possibility that maybe Russian authorities were, at that time, conducting radiation tests. I'm not intending this at ALL to seem like it's making mention to any form of alien life. Just. to make that clear. I'm not... THAT cheesy, I promise. Plus, despite my creative interpretation, I am trying to adhere to all the evidence gathered and presented regarding the actual incident. So yeah.
REVIEW IF YOU WANT MORE! :D
[pandora]
Author:
x_carnivale_x Pairing: Chip/Jeff.
Rating: R/NC17 [violence, homosexuality, graphic description of gore]
Summary: The causes of the accident are still unknown. Neither the official inquest, nor attempts by enthusiastic unofficial investigations have solved the mystery.
Author's Notes: Welp, now Jeff is out of the hospital, but he's still plagued by dreams and memories and chills and fright. We get to see a bit more of Jeff and Chip's interaction, along with another flash back in this chapter. Enjoy. :)
Previous Chapters: Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six // Chapter Seven // Chapter Eight //
When Chip had come back into the room, he'd found Jeff sitting on the bed where he'd left him, but this time with his eyes closed, breathing as if he were freezing cold, and shaking violently. Chip walked up and wrapped his arms around Jeff from behind in an attempt to comfort him but upon the contact, Jeff struggled roughly for a moment and Chip could feel his prominent spine and shoulder blades digging into his chest. But Chip stayed sturdy, not letting his grip weaken. He heard Jeff whimpering and shaking and struggling in his arms, and he felt bad, but he knew if he could only get him quiet and calm, it would be alright. He muttered comforts into Jeff's ear and shushed him. And steadily he felt the younger man relaxing. He shook still, but he'd quit struggling, and Chip steadily felt it was alright to loosen his grip. He let his left hand let go of his right wrist and moved his palm to Jeff's sweaty forehead. Chip let his head relax onto his friend's shoulder and gently kissed his temple, still muttering soothing shushes and whispers to him.
Chip closed his eyes as he felt Jeff shiver sporadically, and he went to move his hand across Jeff's forehead again, up towards his hair. But he'd pulled a little harder than he'd meant to, and as his fingers slightly caught on the front line of Jeff's hair, he jolted violently. Chip was sure he hadn't hurt him... so why had he yanked? Chip wasn't sure, and he once again attempted to lull Jeff down, to soothe him. He heard the raven whimper quietly, and Chip muttered Easy... into his ear. Jeff swallowed thickly, and Chip paused before releasing him. To Chip's surprise, Jeff didn't move away, instead he rested there, staring at the wall and breathing heavily, still leaning against Chip.
"You okay?"
Jeff didn't respond. Chip bit his lip and simply grabbed onto Jeff's hand to help stand him up.
"Come on... Let's get you out of here."
Chip kept his promise to the doctor, agreeing to keep Jeff in Helsinki. Really he did it for Jeff, knowing that keeping him near the doctor and hospital that already knew his case would be the smartest choice, just in case something were to happen. Chip had spoken with their managers, and the studio had agreed to get them their own suite in the hotel that the others were already staying in. On the drive to the hotel, Chip would occasionally glance from the road into the passenger seat where Jeff sat curled up, his head against the window. Chip said nothing; he really wasn't sure what to say now that he and Jeff were actually alone. He debated calling Drew, to let them all know that he'd actually gotten Jeff out and that he was staying in Helsinki. But for some reason, he didn't. He didn't even move to get his phone. Something told him not to.
They arrived at the hotel and Chip moved to Jeff's side to help him out of the car. Jeff had been silent, which Chip could only expect at this point, and he had been surprisingly unphased by being in the outside world. With a sure arm around Jeff's waist, Chip led him through the front door into the lobby. The room had already been secured and Chip merely brushed by the front desk to pick up the key. The two headed straight for the elevators, ignoring the strange looks employees and other guests were giving them. Once they reached their floor (the highest in the hotel, Chip noted) Chip steadily walked him towards the room, entered, and sat him down on the edge of his cushioned bed. He hoped that Jeff would enjoy the softness, for the bed at the hospital had felt more like rock. But Jeff gave no response, he just sat still with his hands folded gently in his lap.
Chip immediately noticed that Jeff was still wearing the hospital-white shirt and pants, as he hadn't had any of his own clothing available to him there, so he moved quickly to his own suitcase and fetched a tshirt (he thought about getting pants as well, but decided against it. The pants he wore were good enough, and Chip wasn't sure as to how Jeff would react if he attempted to help him change pants.) So instead, he walked towards Jeff and gently gripped the hem of his tshirt, and saw that Jeff made no response. Positive or negative. So he pulled up on it gently, and he half expected that Jeff wouldn't bother to move his arms to allow for the shirt's removal. But he was surprised when like clockwork, Jeff's arms raised and the shirt came off. It was then that Chip actually saw the amount of physical damage done to the the dark-haired boy. He had a fresh scar, which had obviously recently had stitches taken out, across his side, and there were faint remnants of fading bruises, purple, blue, yellowish green, some red and still somewhat fresh. Chip swallowed thickly and forced himself not to notice them. Instead he slid the new shirt onto Jeff, working again like clockwork to re-clothe himself.
After, Jeff was still and stared at the wall. Chip was suddenly unsure as to what to do now. Should they sleep? (Matter of fact, would Jeff even sleep at all?) Should he attempt to get Jeff some food? Or should the two just sit in silence? He opted for the second option, it was only 6 in the evening anyway, much too early to sleep, and Chip knew that neither of them were really ready to face the crushing silence. Chip bit his lip and leaned down and lightly kissed Jeff's cheek and said he'd be right back. But as he turned and reached the door, opening it slowly, he heard Jeff's voice and he turned around to acknowledge him.
"Chip..."
"Yeah, Jeff?"
"Is... Is this h-home?"
Chip closed his eyes and held his breath, and for the first time in a while he felt the need to sob. But he swallowed it back down to the pit of his gut, breathed deeply, and spoke as calmly as he could.
"Not quite. But close... I'll be back in j-just a second. I'm going to see about getting some soup or something for you..."
He started to leave again, but Jeff spoke again. Chip didn't look back this time, afraid he might break if he did, but he paused to listen.
"W-why is it s-so cold?"
Chip grit his teeth and pressed his face against the door frame as he felt the need to sob again.
"I-I don't know, ishka. I'll. I'll turn up the heat."
The room wasn't cold at all. The thermostat even said 76. Chip knew that Jeff usually never let it creep above 70; 72 was burning up for him. He bypassed the thermostat entirely and left the room. Chip walked slowly down the hallway towards the elevator. He knew he could have just called for food, but he needed to walk for a minute. And the front desk thought it very queer that Chip didn't want someone to bring the soup up to the room, but they didn't question, and after a few minutes they gave him a bowl of chicken soup fresh from the kitchen. Chip returned to the room and placed the hot liquid in front of Jeff, but Jeff hardly even acknowledged its existence. But the steam from the soup was creeping up, and Jeff's blue eyes began to water. He blinked silently, and a drop slipped past his eyelids, as if it were a tear. Chip thought it might have been, but at that moment, who could know such a thing?
"You have to eat, Jeff."
Chip was again surprised when he heard Jeff respond to his statement. He hadn't expected any form of response, but it was there, that acknowledgment, as small as it was.
"I know."
Chip wondered how long it'd been since Jeff had actually eaten. He hadn't seen him eat at all in the hospital. That wasn't to say that he hadn't, just that Chip had not witnessed it. But with Jeff's current state, it would not have surprised Chip at all if his friend were essentially starving himself.
But Jeff ate, and ate well. And Chip hoped he felt at least a little better, but he wouldn't
know since Jeff again had reverted to silence. This was the silence that Chip had dreaded; now they were alone, not inside the walls of the hospital, but rather inside the walls of a hotel that, although it was away from the hospital, couldn't feel that much like home at all. Chip was uncomfortable, and he could only dare to take a few glances at the rigid body next to him. He heard Jeff sigh, and Chip swore that his already lily-colored face had paled.
"Can we lie down?"
Chip was surprised again. But he nodded quickly and undid the covers of the bed, Jeff stood so that they could all be pulled back properly. He stood awkwardly beside the bed until Chip had crawled beneath the covers.
Jeff would have been lying if he said he wasn't terrified of his sleep. He wasn't sure if it was because of the memories, or if he was afraid that he might re-wake in that horrible place, that place where the woods outside glowed bright fluorescent colours, but where the inside was dark, and icy, freezing... dank.
Sometimes Jeff wasn't sure where he went when he was staring at the wall, or when he was asleep. He went back there. But it was that mentality that drove him mad. Was home and safety just a dream? Would he wake again back on that grimy floor? The noises, god the noises were terrible. He could hardly describe them anymore, but just because he couldn't express them didn't mean he couldn't remember them. The experience of them had over taken words, had branded the noises into his memory. In fact, he heard them in every moment of quiet. Slams, screams, shudders, cracks, breaks, creaks, screams, squishes, screams, thuds, screams, screams.... God, the screams. It got to a point where Jeff would scream too, mostly when he would wake in the night, but he never could tell his own screams from the screams of his companions. But Jeff didn't scream now. He prayed he wouldn't have to.
He inched his way towards the bed and slid under the covers gingerly, still sitting, his back resting against the headboard. He was rigid, but he relaxed slightly when he felt Chip take his hand.
"Jeff... Come on, let's lie down. We don't have to sleep, just. Come here, I'll hold you."
Jeff nodded and slid downwards. He first rested on his back, but he felt Chip pulling him closer, and he let himself roll onto his side and into Chip's chest. He shivered slightly, and he felt Chip's grip tighten a little. Then suddenly, a hum. Chip was humming into his ear, sweet and soothing noises. A song he knew, a song he had shown Chip years ago.
"Oh, I need the darkness
The sweetness, the sadness
The weakness, oh I need this.
I need a lullaby,
A kiss goodnight
Angel, sweet love of my life...
Oh, I need this..."
Jeff felt the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, he felt calm suddenly, and lips pressed softly against his ear, telling him that he wasn't alone.
"I'm here, Jeff. I'm here and you're safe now."
"I know."
That was all that needed to be said; for the moment, Jeff had forgotten the fears, the worries, the noises. Instead, all he could hear was Chip's soft voice flowing in and out of his ears, tickling his ear drum. And his eyes were very heavy.
The first thing Jeff noticed when he awoke was that he was sweating. He was up and conscious, but he kept his eyes closed. For a few moments, he didn't want to look around. He was so cold, but he could feel the sweat dripping down his face. And that sensation was enough in itself to cause even further disorientation. The only thing he really knew was that he was on his stomach, and it was cold...
Steadily, Jeff opened his eyes, but it was to no avail; he still couldn't see a thing. The room was pitch black. His eyes had been closed for a long while, he knew that much, so why weren't they adjusted to the darkness by now? He had no answer. So instead of thinking on it further, he pulled his arms, which had been sprawled outward, closer to his body. And as they drug across the floor Jeff felt a mixture of dust, dirt, and a thick, sticky, and grimy liquid on the floor. He tried not to think about it, although he was fairly sure he knew what it was.
He lifted his head, removing his cheek that had been pressed firmly against the rough floor upwards, and feeling it sting as he did so. Maybe it was cut, at this point he couldn't tell, it was much too cold to be able to tell. He mustered every bit of strength he had and applied pressure against his hands in an attempt to sit up, but he couldn't. He moved a mere few inches off the floor before he felt his elbows and forearms giving way beneath his weight, and he collapsed back to the floor. His eyes were beginning to adjust, but part of him dreaded being able to see, but he knew he would be even further terrified if he could not see his surroundings. With a heavy head, he craned his neck upwards and let his eyes rest on a small window (no more than a 6inx12in) that was up near the ceiling. Much too high up for him to stand and look out of, and much too small for him to even dream of using it as an escape route, if the situation came to that... But from his position on the floor, he could see upward, and up to the sky. Bright flashes occasionally illuminated the otherwise starry sky, and for a moment, Jeff was lost. They glowed the most beautiful colours, pinkish purple, but fiery red, burning across the stars over the mountains. It became too bright and Jeff had to shut his eyes again.
Then a creak. A groan in the floorboards, or what he assumed were the floorboards. And Jeff clenched his eyes stayed perfectly still. But it was silent again. He dared to crack open his eyelids again, and he saw nothing from his limited viewpoint. Steadily he lifted his head from the ground, feeling his cheek sting again, and he forced his neck to turn so he could look at the other side of wherever he was. But as his eyes focused, Jeff's silence was broken.
He stared at the lifeless forms of Rustem and Georgyi. They stared back. But Jeff knew they were dead. They were bloody, practically unrecognizable, Jeff really only knew it was them because of their eyes... their eyes that stared at him.
Jeff's breathing became loud and heavy, and he began to hyperventilate, only being able to pray he would not have another asthma attack. By this point, he was weeping hysterically, and whatever strength he hadn't had before, he suddenly mustered and he shoved himself up into a sitting position so that he could crawl away from the bodies of his companions. He sat on his rear, with his right side and right arm pressed against the wall, pushing him backwards away from the bodies. His left arm held him up, and his right arm helped to push him away. But mid-shove, he stopped. His fingers grazed over a groove in the wall. He let the calloused tips of his fingers trace over the markings that had been so roughly scratched into the stone wall. It was an X, unmistakably so. He let out a loud cry again as he wept, but his fingers kept moving. He felt onward, and next to the X he felt a tiny figure, much like the figures carved into the trees. He moved back to the X, feeling around it, and underneath it, he could feel more etchings. More carvings. Words.
An X over Igor.
He felt onwards.
X over Rustem.
Further.
X over Nicolas.
Further.
No X this time. But there was a word. One. Word.
Jeffrey.
He started to cry out as his breath began to hitch again, but he stopped short and directed his attention towards the dark corner that he knew shadowed the corpses of his friends. And out of the darkness came a scratching and a whisper.
"Poistaa..."
[Chapter Nine Cut]
For those of you slightly confused about the whole thing with the lights in the sky, let me 'splain. Okay, so, in the formal reports it was stated that the bodies tested for very high levels of radiation, and many people living NEAR the mountain said that they had seen bright flashes and colours in the sky during the night. This led to theories about the possibility that maybe Russian authorities were, at that time, conducting radiation tests. I'm not intending this at ALL to seem like it's making mention to any form of alien life. Just. to make that clear. I'm not... THAT cheesy, I promise. Plus, despite my creative interpretation, I am trying to adhere to all the evidence gathered and presented regarding the actual incident. So yeah.
REVIEW IF YOU WANT MORE! :D
[pandora]
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