At the End of the Rainbow 11&12/30
Rating: R for arsekicking and smoochies
Characters & Parings: OC, Cain/Glitch, Jeb's in there, mention of just about everyone.
Story Summary: When the story keeps going, heroes fall.
Chapter Summary: A future is discussed and a new player enters the board
Obligatory Author Drivel: Okay. You can all rejoice (kind of, cause I'm still evil). Cain is in it.
Previous chapters can be found at
ameonna1_writes.
DAYDREAM
Poppy was careful as she knelt down and inspected the pile of metal and junk that Glitch had taken around to carrying with him. He'd found an old mail bag in one of the abandoned houses and as they traveled it had been filling up.
He was always working on something when they stopped for the night. He just couldn't rest. His hands had to be moving all the time, constantly. Some of the things he made were useful, the automated spit that turned itself, and all the little wire traps he made to catch food. He'd even made something that looked like a little thermometer that told you if the water you had was clean enough to drink.
All that and he'd been remembering.
Sometimes his memories seeped into her dreams and what she saw was beautiful and terrifying. A zipper, blue eyes, a spinning doll, a little brown dog, men in long black coats, a woman with many arms, a brain in a jar...
Poppy wasn't too sure about that last one. It was a very painful visceral memory and Glitch still couldn't seem to connect them all together. He only knew his life in flashes that didn't seem to be making any sense. It bothered him, but he didn't ever want to talk about it.
“What are you doing, Poppy?”
She lifted her head as Glitch came into the small clearing they'd settled in. She'd wanted to go farther west, where the river made natural caves and hide in there but Glitch was insistent that he couldn't walk another step.
So she'd made him go find firewood.
“I-I'm just l-looking.”
He flopped done besides her, peering into his bag, “a lot of junk, isn't it? Half the time I don't think I'm even paying attention to what I pick up.”
“Y-you always s-seem to make s-something though.”
“Yes, lots of... useful bits...”
He held up something that looked like an aluminum can with wires and twists of metal coming out of one end, “look at this, I wasn't even paying attention when I made it. I've no idea what it's for but it can generate about twenty-two hundred volts of electricity before it burns out. I'm pretty sure I can hot wire it to a light or something... maybe I can jump start a generator... Oh, don't touch that end though.”
Poppy smiled as he tossed it back into his bag.
“Oh well, I'll figure everything out eventually.”
“You w-will.”
Glitch grinned as he followed her to the edge of the fire, flopping down next to her as she sat against a log. It was as idyllic as it got. They'd eaten, some canned food found in a tossed over caravan. The fire burned cheerfully and if Glitch squinted into the roiling cloud covered sky he could almost pretend he saw stars.
“Poppy, what will you do when you get to the other side?”
“D-depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“A-are you c-coming with me?”
They hadn't discussed it. Poppy had her plan and Glitch was going along with her. He wasn't sure if he should. It was the smartest thing to do. The most logical. Get out of this place. But... But what if there were people he still cared about here? He just didn't remember them? What if someone here needed him? But Poppy needed him too and... and she was right here, right now, with him. Shouldn't she be more important than someone he couldn't recall?
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“Very m-much.”
That settled it.
“So, what are we going to do on the other side?”
“W-we'll need a house.”
“Ah. A big one?”
“N-not too big, not t-too small.”
“Right. So we'll have a perfect house, and?”
“A-and I'll make s-stories.”
“Stories?”
“A-about here. B-but no one will know.”
“I see. What shall I do?”
Poppy giggled and he looked up.
“Invent t-things, of course!”
Glitch grinned. Of course. That would be a wonderful life. The sun would shine and... blond hair. The sun glinting off of blond hair...
“Glitch?”
“Hm? Of course. I'll invent things. Keep going.”
YEARN
He didn't remember what it was like when the sun shone.
He didn't remember on purpose.
The pain would be too much for him to bear.
As long as he followed the orders of his Queen. As long as she was foremost in his mind the pain would cease. That was bliss. That was peace. He'd been sent south. He was looking for something. Someone. He never really knew who they were but he'd know them on sight. The magic would tell him. The magic protected him. The magic made him strong. Who was he to ever question it? He'd sent the tiktoks north. They were good scouts, good at ferreting prey out of the bush, but not too good at delicate work. That was what he was for. The tiktoks never got sent after the girls.
Hunter was sent after them.
Because the Hunter was the Queens favorite pet.
Her quickest, her most cunning, her most loved.
He knew this because she told him so.
How she'd lavish the praise on him. Her gentle touches. Her sweet voice. The gifts she'd given him. A black horse to ride. A black coat to stay warm. A black hat to hide his pale hair. The twin revolvers that stayed by his side.
She made the pain go away.
That was all he was concerned with.
He pulled his horse to a stop and considered the valley below him. The Queen was worried. There had been a breach at the old prison. She wanted him to make sure nothing went wrong. It was a sorcerer she'd said. She said he could get inside people head's. Make them think things that weren't true. A man called Ambrose. Hunter didn't dwell on the name because when he did the voice inside him screamed. He didn't like that. Find him. Find him and kill him. The hurt would go away.
No.
No. Don't.
“Shut up.”
Hunter's voice was cold and hollow in the empty landscape. He hated his curse. That voice that would scream inside him. Try to hurt him from the inside out.
That was what the Queen protected him from.
That voice.
Don't hurt Ambrose...
Hunter hissed as he shook his head, his grip tightening on the reigns of the horse making the leather of his gloves creak.
“Shut the hell up. I don't want to hear a word from you.”
There was no one else to hear him. Just him and his curse.
I'm not a curse.
“Didn't I tell you to shut up?”
You can't kill him. You love him... Listen...
“I haven't listened to your lies for years. Shut up, curse.”
Hunter closed his eyes and focused on staying in the saddle as the voice inside him railed and screamed.
We're not a curse... We're Wyatt Cain... You're...
“Silence!”
Hunter voice echoed and made his horse uneasy beneath him. Slowly he leaned forward and patted the beast before he leaned back in the saddle. It was silent again and that was how he liked it. Black eyes scanned across the valley. The prison used to lie there. It was sleeping now, underneath and it would tell him it's secrets.
He was Hunter. He was the Queen's.
Quickly he urged his horse forward, he yearned for his Queen's presence. The sooner he finished his mission the sooner he could return to her, and the voice inside him would stop causing that terrible pain.