The Secrets Of The Old Tomb

8th Chapter: In Between Winter and Hell

Winter still ruled everything. No one would certainly win over the battering of its wind. Even though I got support from Jarv, each blow of the wind still carried my steps avaunt. And as I stated before, any minutes from now, after getting myself exposed to the harsh weather again, I’d turned into solid ice. There was no doubt in it, as I could no longer move my knuckles. They had stuck to their last forms already, and I could no longer feel them as well. It was like they had turned to stone.

We had been trekking an unknown trail in the middle of nowhere for an hour already. The blizzard never ceased, making it challenging for us to move on foot. Neither Jarv nor I, especially me, had the ability to clearly see what was in front of us. I also thought it was the reason why no one, not even a wild dog, attacked us on our way. ‘Maybe blizzards weren’t so bad after all’, I mouthed to myself.

Jarv and I never made a conversation on our way. I was jealous that he could talk just fine and I couldn’t, and that was the reason why he hadn’t thrown me loads of questions during the time the black chip was planted in my temple as we ambled on this vast, white bed of snow. Understanding and kind – these were one of several things I loved about my best friend. And I was more than glad and blessed that it was him I encountered in my weakest state. Even though I hoped it could’ve been my own boyfriend with his sanity back or Mary, I would never let Jarv feel he wasn’t enough.

According to Jarv, he’d bring me to his cave and would give me warmth. Hearing his tone of voice when he told me about his cave, it sounded warm and comfortable. With just those few words, it was already enough for me as those things were what I needed prior to taking to action on the new goal and desire I had: find and bring back Mary and everyone else.

Quite a long moment after, I suddenly passed out again. It was not surprising, though, because even I sensed Jarv was already aware that it would happen. It was already written all over me. My body was at its greatly weakest point. I very much felt it. Yet I knew Jarv caught me before my mind went fully dead and unconscious. It was a good thing to know, rather than waking up again after those unknown hours of no consciousness and then finding myself almost buried in the deep snow.

I had no slightest idea as to what took place following the moment I lost my sentient life. I could see nor feel anything but a void of emptiness, and it wasn’t that alarming. It’s like I was just in a deep sleep without dreams.

Yet not as late as I had flashbacks of my own memories once more. They were the same memories as before – starting from the tragedy of the immense fire that killed my family up to the time when all of us went down to the basement of the structure that was abandoned in the middle of the woods where we found skeletons and also where we got kidn*pped. I heard myself calling my little sister’s name as the flashbacks became more and more real. Indeed, those were once real. But I had this feeling that those were happening to all of us again. And it hurt so much!

“MARY!” my final call to her suddenly brought me back to consciousness. Automatically, I found myself sitting upright on a solid… rock. It was not ice or snow. A rock. My sudden movement caused a pain in my leg where one of the wolves had bitten me. “Aww!”

“Hey, hey,” Jarv’s voice was calm but also with worriedness, filled with reassurance and comfort. A human voice. I had never heard that for such a long time. And soon I caught his voice, I felt safe and pleasant because I knew I would never be alone this time. Nothing had changed in his voice, and it was a good thing. He continued after he came and assisted me to lie back down again, “Don’t worry, we’ll find Mary soon. But, first, we need to get you back to your good shape, alright?”

I nodded, catching by hand the first couple of tears streaming down my cheeks. Now that I was safe, I couldn’t stop worrying about my little sister’s safety. As I looked at the ceiling of rocks, I recalled our encounters when she and I were in a state with a mind of a killer. I remembered everything, and I chose to. I hurt Mary, and I was guilty of it. Alongside it, I was furious at myself that I began to clench my hands because of what I did. I was the most horrible big sister that had ever lived.

While I kept my eyes on above the soon I laid back down, I started murmuring like I was a crazy, old woman talking to herself, “I hurt Mary.” That was the moment I realized I now spoke in a normal and straight voice, unlike my first words after the black chip had been removed from my right temple. But it was not the right period to be happy about it. My current three words came repeating to my mouth, and I knew Jarv was observing me because he was trying to get close to me and get a good catch as to what I was whispering. Up until, before he could get really close to me, I screamed angrily and continuously with the same words, without pushing myself up to sit, “I HURT MARY! I HURT MAR… !”

Jarv immediately covered my mouth, which ceased my duplicated words and looked at him aghast, then turned his head in all of the directions. Ii knew my eyes showed a monster’s eyes. We both heard my last words echoing in the deep parts of the cave. Quite funny because my voice got weirder and weirder the longer it echoed until it met its end. It took enough moments before Jarv let go of his hand on my lips and said in a very hushed voice while his eyes were bigger than they usually did, seeming scared, “Stop! You might attract enemies. We’re not safe here.”

He was right. Thank you for that! I had completely forgotten that it was just me and Jarv that had shovelled off the chips on our right temples. We didn’t need to assume or question ourselves if our other friends had got the same chip. It was evident – based on a few of them that I had come across.

Until we had not successfully removed their chips to help them get back to their sanity, Jarv and I must remain alert and had to learn not to trust them until the enemy spoke. Whoever we came across – let it be one of our friends, my dearest Mary, my boyfriend Jonathan, or any wild or cute animals – Jarv and I had to be careful. I didn’t need to tell him that.

The action he did when I shrieked because I was so upset with myself for hurting Mary already proved to me that Jarv already knew what should and shouldn’t be done to lessen the attack from our mind-controlled enemies. He seemed like he didn’t need to hear this knowledge from somebody else, as I was confident Jarv had thought of these on his own. It looked as though he already study the mind-controlled enemies. I thought and assumed the black chip was the cause of such abominable behaviours. It was controlling our brains and gave us the ability which normal people couldn’t do, such as guessing where the North, South, East and West were without the use of a compass or looking where the sun rises.

Thinking of it, I sat up again to ask and confirm with Jarv about the chip.

The one that has been planted in my temple.

“The chip, Jarv? The chip in my…” I heard my own words and was a bit confused as to what I should feel about them because both tones of distress and puzzelement were present on my voice. Yet it was not the reason why I did not finished my sentence. Inhumane actions I did came shortly before I could finish myself, and I was horrible. Now, I loathed to repeat or remind myself what was in my head, but I continued my matter on Jarv anyway, “Wh-where is it?”

I knew what I said – and asked. My abhorrence on the chip would never ever leave me. And I knew what always came everytime I mentioned the chip in my head or physically seeing the chip or hearing someone something about it – basically, intentional or not, grasping any informations about it. Past, dark actions always came. Who wanted those?

Psychopaths, perhaps?

Yet, anyway, the reason why I asked Jarv about the chip’s whereabouts was that I wanted to investigate its outer looks. I wanted to see if I, or we, could find something – let it be a couple of letters or words written or maybe a code – that we could later on track or know about the origin of the chip. I wished to know and meet whoever was behind our undesirable actions. Those who were responsible for atrociously implanting these chips in our heads would face no mercy when I get the chance of revenge. They have the right to beg and cry and mourn, but never would they have the chance to deserve understanding, let alone forgiveness.

Jarv examined the look on my face, and he was somewhat bothered by my simple question. But it did not take him long before he answered after he inserted his left hand into his left pocket, then showed me his palm. On top were two black chips – apparently, his’s and mine. “You dropped yours when you passed out, so I’ve kept it.”

“You are keeping yours, too?” I questioned in bewilderment, gazing at the two chips on his palm, then his unreadable face. I couldn’t tell what Jarv was currently feeling. He was somewhat bothered as his eyes were fixed on the chips on his hands. Rather than feeling happy that he was able to keep the chips, it seemed as though my best friend was enraged to see these two tiny, metallic-like flakes. I was not sure what to justify whilst currently seeing his face. I read no hope all over his indecipherable eyes, yet there I also felt the motivation, the urge to take a step closer to saving others and oneself. I was thinking silly, wasn’t I? I looked at him silently for about five seconds subsequent to asking him, wondering what was presently running in his bright mind. I knew that we both suffered the austerity and barbaric actions we did the chip made us do, but I wished to dive into his thoughts to have an idea or help him form a plan against whoever did this heartless act to us – that’s if he was planning on anything about it.

My extreme anger instantaneously died out because of my sudden change in emotion. I never saw nor predicted this moment the soon as I raised my question about the chip. I had never thought that Jarv would do the same thing. What I thought whilst at that very moment was that we shared the same idea of saving the chip instead of disposing of it away.

He blankly nodded – or at least I thought he did because the arc gesture he made on his head was too small to be considered a nod – without letting go of his gaze on the two chips on the top of his palm. A couple of seconds after, and finally, Jarv eyed me and voiced out, “I should.”

“This would tell who gave this to us,” Jarv proceeded to his response after I gave him my stare of bemusement when I first heard his brief response as I became unsure now we were thinking the same idea about the chip.

Gladly, with his reply, I was certain regarding his first plan. Yet, his voice. It didn’t seem or sounded anything pleasing. Or comfortable anymore. Similar to what his face displayed, it was full of nothingness. Unassertive, yet willing to take daring risks. It didn’t make any sense. And so I took the time to question his emotional state boldly and straightly. However, to make him not furious at me, I divulged some things I did while the chip was controlling me first before asking him. “You know, I hurt my sister, almost killed her even, and I was never contented every time we un-deliberately parted ways because I wasn’t finished yet with her. I chased her blood, only to have the satisfaction of wearing it on my hands. I feel guilty and angry at myself – even angrier than those wild and dangerous and brawny animals I encountered who, too, was famish for the blood of any living – and, currently, all this anger, if only this is a supernatural power which could kill, I wish to direct my aim to myself.”

Jarv, after he stared back at the chips the soon he finished his reply, suddenly looked at me back when he heard my last words with his two brows slightly meeting on his glabella.

Now, it was easy to read his face. It was evident that he was bothered and confused by the words I said. But what I wanted to know from him was why he was showing an odd and unperceivable face and emotion every moment he laid his eyes on the chips.

That was what I wished to know. What happened during the times the chip was controlling him?

“I’m confessing this to you because I know what I feel. But you, Jarv, I don’t and can’t fathom what you feel. No matter how hard I assured myself you’re angry about what’s happening to all of us because we all should be, I couldn’t. What is it that you currently feel and why?” I pressed on to what I was saying without letting Jarv interrupt me if he was about to say something or none after he returned his face to me. I made sure that my voice was far different to his’s. My voice was calm and perturbed but was conveying a willingness to help him.

Now, there was another thing that made me not understand myself: How was I able to transpose my emotional state from furious to solicitous quickly? I recalled, not a long minutes ago, I was shouting because of what I horribly did to my little sister. My self-rage was real.

Jarv shook his head, suggesting to me there was nothing else to be worried about or to be angry at than the inhumane move of planting the chips. And instead, he said with his kind and concerned tone, “You should get rest. I was in the outside desert before you woke up, and I saw Luke.” He then closed his palm where the chips were and hid them in his pocket, stood up and strolled a few feet away from my feet with, again, his blank face. But he continued saying, “Not soon he’ll find us here. We need to move.”

There was a couple of information I failed to understand after catching those words. First, he mentioned a desert. The last thing I knew before I collapsed was everything was in colour white. The heavy blizzard was responsible. If, indeed, Jarv recently came from a desert, then that would explain why I hadn’t felt so cold. Yet, if we were in the desert, then why I hadn’t felt so hot? Why was I not sweating? Or why was my body not demanding water?

I felt everything around was… temperate. And, for that reason, I loved it.

I followed Jarv with my eyes to where he stopped and, from there – where he sat beside a small open-air fire and on top of it was a dead animal, almost finished to grill, in a rough and unclean skewer-like stick, supported by two more sticks at both ends which were pierced to the ground – I instantly noticed what was around. And from one look at what was around us, I instantly arrived on a state of discombobulation.

What was outside of the cave was hell and winter – a desert and arctic lands. I didn’t understand it at first. The left eye was seeing that burning climate of the desert as well as the very visible hot air due to the million pieces of fine sand swirling with it. And my right eye was never elated to catch those white snows on the ground, pitched-black leafless trees and the dull black sky. That look of winter never changed for me, as I recalled so many atrocities while I was there. Yet, anyway, I took more moments to gaze at this inexplicable phenomenon – well, if it was a phenomenon.

That was the strangest thing my eyes ever caught, and my body has ever been onto. It was as if nature was showing the beauty she has in such unique ways. And I must admit that it was quite stunning. But, too undesirable to explore with satisfaction.

And from the cave we were in, I could see the ground was a combination of snow and sand – it’s not really combined that they turned into one element. Rather they were mixed enough, but you could still see some chunks of snow and a handful of sand scattered. You could even set apart or isolate the snow from the sand if you have the time in the world. But it would take years.

It was also late when I fully realized that I was lying on the hard rock, covered by damp sand and snow. I thought it was another reason why I didn’t feel so hot or so cold before. It was super weird when my skin came in touch with the sand and snow after having the knowledge of where we were and what kind of surroundings were around us. I couldn’t explain it precisely. It was ao had to discuss why there was a cave right in the middle of the desert and the winterland. And the cave structures, instead of mostly being made of ice – as that was what I logically see to form such cave in a short time – it was made of black sandy rocks with some parts being dead brown in colour. To save my time from confusion over this, I just let myself believed that the sand was wet by the falling snow, built its own shape, and then the winter hardened it until it became a massive rock structure over time. The only thing I saw on the cave’s ceiling that was made of ice were those gigantic hundreds of icicles. Deadly, sharp icicles.

Too much to witness everything, I followed Jarv beside the open fire. I was wondering how he made that fire whilst knowing that under the fire was snow and sand. Anyway, I did not let myself bother much about it.

Walking towards him was way too challenging at first. The wound, the pain, everything on my body was torturing me in pain. AAAAHH!

But with every hope I had and dedication to fight and find my sister, Mary, I did make it to Jarv, who was turning the hard stick pierced through the dead animal around to let the other part cook on the fire. I covered my knees with my hands and stared blankly at that dead animal on fire. I couldn’t reckon the kind of animal that he was cooking for food as its skin was almost black due to its long exposure to the fire rather than being grilled brown in colour. The scent of burnt hair and overcooked skin and that unpleasant smell of rotten meat blended into the air. And it created this smell of something too revolting on my nose. It was nauseous. No offence to my friend, but no one would ever want to eat that – even the hungriest person on earth.

My mind couldn’t believe that it was witnessing this from Jarv, who I used to know as skilled in cooking. I didn’t understand it. Why was that?

A few seconds after observing it while Jarv turned the skewer around continuously, which I thought he was doing it unconsciously, I looked at him. Jarv was wearing a similar unreadable face as before when he was looking at the chips on his palms. My face crumbled and asked him something different from what I perceived on his face. I knew I couldn’t get answers even if I asked him straightly about the bemusement I had while seeing his whole self. “Jarv, where are we?”

It was also important that I kept my tone normal rather than display my repugnance to the thing he was cooking because its dirty smell still surrounded us. I had to pretend like there was nothing from him that I didn’t like – even that rotten animal. I kept my eyes on his’s in the hope this would lessen the disgust I felt.

“I don’t know,” he answered instantly, looking back at me, now with a smile. Then he wandered his eyes and head above and around, continuing, “but it’s a safe place for us. Not too hot, not too cold.”

And I asked again, “A desert and a winterlard? How did it happen?”

“Same question I have since I got out of that desert.”

So, he was in the desert all this time, suffering from the heat and nothingness, while I suffered the coldness and rage of the winter. Although we were in two different places, we shared the same trauma from the cruel environment.

My eyes were randomly directed to the farthest side of the winter part. There I saw the sky was so dark, which gave me the idea that there was a massive and dangerous snowstorm happening there. I even caught a few lightning on the clouds. I couldn’t help getting my eyes out of it, thinking my sister was out there somewhere in that vast land of snow and cold. I felt my body begin to tremble, and my eyes were about to drop their first tear. I had this voice in my head that kept on saying, ‘I hope you’re okay.’.

Ultimately, I managed to return my eyes to Jarv, who – unlike me – was staring at the desert side, where he had been all along while the chip was on his right temple. I questioned him again without waiting for him to look at me back, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t understand this, Mol,” he replied perplexedly, but with a tone of fret. He turned his head to me the soon he spoke. “Everything around, and everything to us all. We were happy on that bus!”

“I know.” Those were the only words I said. Honestly, I didn’t know what else to say. I couldn’t comfort him because I had the same feeling. We had the same experience. We couldn’t give each other commiseration. Despite the fact that we were together with our minds and behaviours back to normal, we both had this hard and uncomfortable feeling whenever we came to a conversation where one of us felt the need to give comforting words yet couldn’t. We may not confess it to each other, but it was there. Always. And I wouldn’t blame Jarv for it. Or myself.

None of us talked after. Silence fell over us.

We both looked back to the dead animal Jarv was cooking. I lately realized that his hand was not at the other end of the stick. He must have let go of the stick on his hand the soon his eyes wandered the outside desert.

Then, inches away from getting the end of the skewer again, the small fire bursted suddenly in front of us, filling our souls with horror. Some of the burning red coals propelled through the air and got on us, giving us again a different kind of pain. But Jarv’s hand caught it most as his hand was the closest to the fire. The sudden explosion of that small open fire made us push ourselves backwards unbridledly.

We looked at the fire after we made sure were safe from the fire, but Jarv was covering his hurt hand with his other hand. The red coals were everywhere, and there was still fire alive on the spot, yet not as strong as before it burst. Jarv’s food was now lying on the snow and sand spot, already inedible – or was it really edible even if it did survive on the unexpected blast? Anyway, I was a bit grateful that the explosion happened. I didn’t know how to say to Jarv that I didn’t want to eat that rotten, burnt and disgusting meat.

But it wasn’t the centre of my attention. What was to my attention was the cause of the fire’s blowout. In the middle of the open fire’s spot, Jarv and I saw that wooden spear. It was forty-five-degree angles from the ground. Then we looked to where it came from, obviously to the cave’s entrance, and saw Luke standing boldly with his both fists full of strength. He was breathing heavily, but was evidently ready to kill us.

And to the edge of the entrance, there from the winter side, Jarv and I saw a man in a green jumpsuit, screaming as he ran towards here. Luke’s appearance from the distance might have drawn this man to come here. And we instantly knew that man. He was Jonathan, my boyfriend.

While knowing that we had the chance of dying here since it’d be two strong men against two wounded persons, I didn’t know what to do next.