(no subject)
The Door from Milliways opened into the cave. Once through, it closed behind Roxton and Marguerite, disappearing from view. Summerlee was watching them from outside waiting for them to begin their exploration. It felt quite odd that they had spent several days in the Bar with barely a second passing here.
Roxton gave the old professor one final nod before turning to Marguerite and lighting their torches.
“Strange, isn’t it?” he asks as he follows her into the cave. “Challenger will be fascinated, no doubt.”
“And wondering why he couldn’t have gone with is,” Marguerite points out, annoyed. “He’ll be pestering us with questions for days.” Roxton smirks at her back in amusement.
“You are helping to save him,” he points out. “And I could always answer for you,” he adds with a sly smile. Marguerite stops to turn around and give him a Look.
“In your dreams, Lord Roxton.” She turns to continue walking and slips on a decline. Roxton catches her arm, holding her steady.
“Sure you don’t want to stay outside with Summerlee?”
“And let you have all the fun?” she responds, freeing herself and stepping forward. Roxton can’t help but smile…once her back is turned.
Coming up on a fork in the cave system, Marguerite peers down each tunnel before choosing the left one.
“Don’t go far,” Roxton tells her. “100 yards, we meet back here, got it?” he asks, looking completely serious. Unexplored caves are nothing to joke about. Marguerite looks uncertain a moment before her confident smile is back in full force.
“Got it,” she says, self-assuredly, turning away.
“Oh, Marguerite?” Roxton calls after her, forcing her to face him again. “Be careful.” She nods reassuringly. And then the pair of explorers split up and head down their respective paths.
Roxton thinks nothing of the slimy fungus when he puts a hand in it. He merely pulls a face and wipes his hands on his trousers before continuing on. He stops near a pool of water within the cave, wondering if perhaps Lapprand fell in and drowned himself. Holding the torch over the pool, he’s startled to see the reflection of a man behind him. He gasps, dropping the torch in the pool and scrambles to draw his pistol, ready to shoot the stranger.
Only it isn’t a stranger.
“Hello, brother,” William says bitterly as the cave shimmers into the Treehouse. Roxton looks around, utterly confused as his brother takes off his hat, holding over his chest to hide the blood stain there.
“William?” Roxton asks, throat dry as he lowers his gun.
“You come to kill me again?” Roxton shakes his head, beginning to look horrified.
“William, no,” he says disbelievingly.
“Come now, John. Is that anyway to greet your dear departed brother?” William asks dryly, putting his hat down so the blood stain is readily apparent. Roxton sees it, eyes widening in shock. He’s beginning to look, and feel, sick. William looks down at his chest. “Oh! Of course.” The deceased brother drops his hat on a chair and picks up a jacket. “Terrible thing, a gunshot wound,” he says as he starts to put it on. “Imagine a freight train slamming into your chest, ploughing through your rib cage like it was a pile of twigs.” William’s glaring at Roxton now, who shakes his head, trying to smile as though this were all a joke.
“No, this isn’t possible,” he says weakly. It can’t be possible. Please, don’t let this be real.
“Well, luckily I didn’t suffer,” William continues as though Roxton hasn’t spoken. “My heart exploded almost immediately.” He finishes fastening the jacket shut and claps his hands together. “Ah, that’s better. Now, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, Johnny,” William says with a smile, closing the distance between them. “How’ve you been since you murdered me?” Roxton shakes his head again, still trying to smile at his older brother.
“No, this can’t be…you can’t be real,” he says again, voice faint, throat still dry. He can hardly get the words out. William purses his lips together as he considers that and nods slightly, just before he slams his fist into Roxton’s chin, sending his brother smashing into a table.
“Is that real enough for you?” William sneers as Roxton starts to sit up, a hand to his face. William tilts his head a moment before stepping forward and kicking Roxton in his side, making use of the boots he’s wearing. “Ooooh, snuck that one in, didn’t I?” he asks, amused as Roxton flails. “Time was, you’d have seen it coming.” Roxton rolls to sit up again.
“What the hell is going on?” he asks, having finally found his voice. William again ignores the question.
“This is just like the good old days, eh?” he proclaims, clapping his hands together again. “We were a couple of good old yobbos, fighting and scrapping and kicking.” He bends over Roxton, hands on his knees as his smile fades away.
“William, I’m sorry,” Roxton says desperately, looking up.
“But look at you now,” William says mockingly. “You’re getting soft, Johnny.” He extends a hand to his brother. Roxton hesitates before taking it, wondering if it’s real, and starts to climb to his feet, until William slams his free fist into Roxton’s kidney. He collapses, groaning.
“William! What do you want from me?” he snaps anxiously when he’s recovered, still laying on the floor. William crouches over him until their faces are nearly touching.
“Your fear,” he says softly, before his face breaks into a grin. “Come on, on your feet, brother.” He strides away, leaning against a support beam as he waits for Roxton to stand up. The younger brother slowly climbs to his feet, still aching from where he’s been hit. “Take a seat, Johnny.” William gestures to a chair he’s set in the middle of the room. Roxton staggers towards it, wondering if he’s gone insane. How can William be here? William’s dead.
Perhaps he is too.
Roxton collapses into the seat, staring at his brother. “What do you say we play trial, hmm? Gentlemen of the jury!” William whirls to speak to an invisible audience. “You see this man before you.” Roxton drops his head. He knows what’s coming next, and he can’t find it within himself to argue against it. It’s true, isn’t it?
“John Roxton, until he murdered his own brother, stole his title, now he’s Lord John Roxton to you.”
“No,” Roxton says, lifting his head. “It was an accident.” He doesn’t sound convinced, mostly because nobody else could ever convince him.
“’An accident’ he says,” William repeats, not turning around.
“You were being attacked by an ape,” Roxton continues, sounding tired and broken. “I was trying to save your life.” William turns, glaring.
“You deny you shot me?” he challenges.
“I shot the ape!” Roxton protests before losing his will again. “The bullet went through it.”
“An ape, and your brother. Two more trophies for the wall!” William sneers.
“Stop it!” Roxton shouts, desperately. It’s not true!
“Who was it who convinced father I should go on safari?!” Roxton opens his mouth, but the protest dies in his throat. It had been him. He drops his head again. “Yes, convicted by his own silence, gentlemen.”
“It was for your own good,” Roxton nearly moans. “Father thought it was time you faced your fears.” William laughs.
“Gentlemen, my brother Lord John Roxton, world famous big game hunter, notorious ladies’ man, toast of international society.” William turns to his brother, approaching his seat. “You want to know what I was afraid of? You, dear brother.” His voice starts to rise. “Everything I never could be or would be, staring me in the face over breakfast every day. Did either of you ever stop and ask me what I wanted?” he ends on a shout. Roxton licks his lips, his eyes begging his brother to stop this.
“No,” he whispers.
“’Face your fears,’ you said. Well, I did. And you killed me.” William’s eyes are cold as he faces the invisible crowd again. “Members of the jury, how say you?” Roxton watches the floor. “Guilty,” William whispers into his ear. Roxton shakes his head. Everyone said it wasn’t his fault. “Guilty,” William says louder. But it was an accident!
“No,” he whispers, looking up at his brother.
“Guilty!” roars William, hitting Roxton on his jaw again, sending him out of the chair. “Of desertion, of leaving his mother to rot in an empty house while he chased glory on a fool’s expedition!” William spins him onto his back before walking away. “What say the jury? Guilty, yes.” He walks back and lands another kick in Roxton’s side. “Of the murder of your own brother, and our father’s death.”
“No!” Roxton shouts as he rolls onto his back. William walks back to the jury.
“Three weeks later, heart attack? Or heart break? What say you, good men of the jury?” William chuckles darkly as Roxton climbs to his feet. “Guilty.” He moves to strike Roxton again, but this time the hunter is ready for him.
“Enough!” He grabs his brother and slams him into a ceiling support, holding him there with one hand while he pulls back his fist. He freezes in that position when he sees what he’s doing, shock spreading over his face as William starts laughing.
“Yes, that’s it. Be a hero. Be a man. Kill me again!” Roxton shakes his head, not yet dropping his fist.
“I loved you, William. I’m sorry,” Roxton says softly, releasing his brother. “I was trying to save you.”
“Save me?” William mocks, laughing as he walks to the balcony of the Treehouse. He climbs up on the handrail, his grip on the overhang the only thing that keeps him from falling. “Remember how I used to be terrified of heights, brother?” he asks as he starts to swing. Roxton follows the movement with his eyes, one hand held to his ribs.
“What are you doing? Get down,” Roxton orders, voice rough.
“Giving you a chance to make it up to me,” William explains cheerfully, releasing one hand.
“Stop it. No more games,” Roxton answers sternly, carefully approaching his brother. William laughs, his antics becoming wilder until he nearly loses his footing.
“Oh, that was a close one,” he says mildly.
“Get down off there!”
“Come on, John. It’s a long way to the ground, but you could save me,” William says, looking at his brother as he lets go and falls.
“NO!” Roxton bolts forward to catch his brother, leaning over the edge of the balcony too far too fast and starting to fall himself.
He doesn’t care.
“WILLIAM!” Something’s stopping him from falling, from saving his brother, and he tries to shake it off, still shouting for his brother.
“Roxton!” It’s coming from a long way off, and he tries to bat it aside and go after William.
“NOOO!
“Stop! Snap out of it!” And Roxton does fall silent because that voice shouldn’t be here. He blinks, panting, looking around the cave and at Summerlee, all bathed in the eerie red light of the magma shaft he nearly fell into. Summerlee goes through Roxton’s pockets, searching for a handkerchief. “Here!” He shoves the cloth over Roxton’s nose and mouth. “Put this over your nose. The fungus is hallucinogenic,” he tells Roxton, who’s still breathing hard. He looks around the cave again to be sure it’s real. “Now, come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
The two explorers climb to their feet, a new look of horror appearing on Roxton’s face. “Marguerite!” He dashes past Summerlee, back up his tunnel and down the one Marguerite took, coming upon her just as she’s turning her pistol on herself. He crouches in front of her, taking the weapon away.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to play with guns?”
“No!” Marguerite screams, beating him with her fists, and starting to ramble. Roxton catches her in his arms.
“Shhh, it’s okay! It isn’t real.” She keeps struggling. “Marguerite, look at me!” He grabs her hair, forcing her head back so he can see her face. “Look at me. It isn’t real.” She quiets, finally seeing him through tear filled eyes.
“Noooo,” she half sobs, half moans as Roxton moves with her back to Summerlee.
“Let’s get her out of here.”
“Yes, but what about the bones?” Roxton frowns, but hands Marguerite off to Summerlee and turns around to stand over the bones that Marguerite had found.
“What about them?” he asks darkly.
“Well, how can we be sure they’re Lapprand’s?” Summerlee asks, using one hand to stroke Marguerite’s hair. Roxton bends over to pick up the gun Marguerite found.
“A.L.” he says, pointing to the initials engraved on the grip. “Alfred Lapprand.” He brings it back to Summerlee. “Take a look for yourself,” he says, holding an arm out for Marguerite as she buries her face in his chest again. Summerlee nods, handing his torch to Roxton as he pulls out a bag to put the bones in. Roxton holds Marguerite tight while they wait. She’s still crying, but is much quieter now. He has a feeling this won’t last long.
“I have an idea,” Summerlee says once he’s gathered up all the bones.
((Dialogue mostly from The Lost World.))
Roxton gave the old professor one final nod before turning to Marguerite and lighting their torches.
“Strange, isn’t it?” he asks as he follows her into the cave. “Challenger will be fascinated, no doubt.”
“And wondering why he couldn’t have gone with is,” Marguerite points out, annoyed. “He’ll be pestering us with questions for days.” Roxton smirks at her back in amusement.
“You are helping to save him,” he points out. “And I could always answer for you,” he adds with a sly smile. Marguerite stops to turn around and give him a Look.
“In your dreams, Lord Roxton.” She turns to continue walking and slips on a decline. Roxton catches her arm, holding her steady.
“Sure you don’t want to stay outside with Summerlee?”
“And let you have all the fun?” she responds, freeing herself and stepping forward. Roxton can’t help but smile…once her back is turned.
Coming up on a fork in the cave system, Marguerite peers down each tunnel before choosing the left one.
“Don’t go far,” Roxton tells her. “100 yards, we meet back here, got it?” he asks, looking completely serious. Unexplored caves are nothing to joke about. Marguerite looks uncertain a moment before her confident smile is back in full force.
“Got it,” she says, self-assuredly, turning away.
“Oh, Marguerite?” Roxton calls after her, forcing her to face him again. “Be careful.” She nods reassuringly. And then the pair of explorers split up and head down their respective paths.
Roxton thinks nothing of the slimy fungus when he puts a hand in it. He merely pulls a face and wipes his hands on his trousers before continuing on. He stops near a pool of water within the cave, wondering if perhaps Lapprand fell in and drowned himself. Holding the torch over the pool, he’s startled to see the reflection of a man behind him. He gasps, dropping the torch in the pool and scrambles to draw his pistol, ready to shoot the stranger.
Only it isn’t a stranger.
“Hello, brother,” William says bitterly as the cave shimmers into the Treehouse. Roxton looks around, utterly confused as his brother takes off his hat, holding over his chest to hide the blood stain there.
“William?” Roxton asks, throat dry as he lowers his gun.
“You come to kill me again?” Roxton shakes his head, beginning to look horrified.
“William, no,” he says disbelievingly.
“Come now, John. Is that anyway to greet your dear departed brother?” William asks dryly, putting his hat down so the blood stain is readily apparent. Roxton sees it, eyes widening in shock. He’s beginning to look, and feel, sick. William looks down at his chest. “Oh! Of course.” The deceased brother drops his hat on a chair and picks up a jacket. “Terrible thing, a gunshot wound,” he says as he starts to put it on. “Imagine a freight train slamming into your chest, ploughing through your rib cage like it was a pile of twigs.” William’s glaring at Roxton now, who shakes his head, trying to smile as though this were all a joke.
“No, this isn’t possible,” he says weakly. It can’t be possible. Please, don’t let this be real.
“Well, luckily I didn’t suffer,” William continues as though Roxton hasn’t spoken. “My heart exploded almost immediately.” He finishes fastening the jacket shut and claps his hands together. “Ah, that’s better. Now, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, Johnny,” William says with a smile, closing the distance between them. “How’ve you been since you murdered me?” Roxton shakes his head again, still trying to smile at his older brother.
“No, this can’t be…you can’t be real,” he says again, voice faint, throat still dry. He can hardly get the words out. William purses his lips together as he considers that and nods slightly, just before he slams his fist into Roxton’s chin, sending his brother smashing into a table.
“Is that real enough for you?” William sneers as Roxton starts to sit up, a hand to his face. William tilts his head a moment before stepping forward and kicking Roxton in his side, making use of the boots he’s wearing. “Ooooh, snuck that one in, didn’t I?” he asks, amused as Roxton flails. “Time was, you’d have seen it coming.” Roxton rolls to sit up again.
“What the hell is going on?” he asks, having finally found his voice. William again ignores the question.
“This is just like the good old days, eh?” he proclaims, clapping his hands together again. “We were a couple of good old yobbos, fighting and scrapping and kicking.” He bends over Roxton, hands on his knees as his smile fades away.
“William, I’m sorry,” Roxton says desperately, looking up.
“But look at you now,” William says mockingly. “You’re getting soft, Johnny.” He extends a hand to his brother. Roxton hesitates before taking it, wondering if it’s real, and starts to climb to his feet, until William slams his free fist into Roxton’s kidney. He collapses, groaning.
“William! What do you want from me?” he snaps anxiously when he’s recovered, still laying on the floor. William crouches over him until their faces are nearly touching.
“Your fear,” he says softly, before his face breaks into a grin. “Come on, on your feet, brother.” He strides away, leaning against a support beam as he waits for Roxton to stand up. The younger brother slowly climbs to his feet, still aching from where he’s been hit. “Take a seat, Johnny.” William gestures to a chair he’s set in the middle of the room. Roxton staggers towards it, wondering if he’s gone insane. How can William be here? William’s dead.
Perhaps he is too.
Roxton collapses into the seat, staring at his brother. “What do you say we play trial, hmm? Gentlemen of the jury!” William whirls to speak to an invisible audience. “You see this man before you.” Roxton drops his head. He knows what’s coming next, and he can’t find it within himself to argue against it. It’s true, isn’t it?
“John Roxton, until he murdered his own brother, stole his title, now he’s Lord John Roxton to you.”
“No,” Roxton says, lifting his head. “It was an accident.” He doesn’t sound convinced, mostly because nobody else could ever convince him.
“’An accident’ he says,” William repeats, not turning around.
“You were being attacked by an ape,” Roxton continues, sounding tired and broken. “I was trying to save your life.” William turns, glaring.
“You deny you shot me?” he challenges.
“I shot the ape!” Roxton protests before losing his will again. “The bullet went through it.”
“An ape, and your brother. Two more trophies for the wall!” William sneers.
“Stop it!” Roxton shouts, desperately. It’s not true!
“Who was it who convinced father I should go on safari?!” Roxton opens his mouth, but the protest dies in his throat. It had been him. He drops his head again. “Yes, convicted by his own silence, gentlemen.”
“It was for your own good,” Roxton nearly moans. “Father thought it was time you faced your fears.” William laughs.
“Gentlemen, my brother Lord John Roxton, world famous big game hunter, notorious ladies’ man, toast of international society.” William turns to his brother, approaching his seat. “You want to know what I was afraid of? You, dear brother.” His voice starts to rise. “Everything I never could be or would be, staring me in the face over breakfast every day. Did either of you ever stop and ask me what I wanted?” he ends on a shout. Roxton licks his lips, his eyes begging his brother to stop this.
“No,” he whispers.
“’Face your fears,’ you said. Well, I did. And you killed me.” William’s eyes are cold as he faces the invisible crowd again. “Members of the jury, how say you?” Roxton watches the floor. “Guilty,” William whispers into his ear. Roxton shakes his head. Everyone said it wasn’t his fault. “Guilty,” William says louder. But it was an accident!
“No,” he whispers, looking up at his brother.
“Guilty!” roars William, hitting Roxton on his jaw again, sending him out of the chair. “Of desertion, of leaving his mother to rot in an empty house while he chased glory on a fool’s expedition!” William spins him onto his back before walking away. “What say the jury? Guilty, yes.” He walks back and lands another kick in Roxton’s side. “Of the murder of your own brother, and our father’s death.”
“No!” Roxton shouts as he rolls onto his back. William walks back to the jury.
“Three weeks later, heart attack? Or heart break? What say you, good men of the jury?” William chuckles darkly as Roxton climbs to his feet. “Guilty.” He moves to strike Roxton again, but this time the hunter is ready for him.
“Enough!” He grabs his brother and slams him into a ceiling support, holding him there with one hand while he pulls back his fist. He freezes in that position when he sees what he’s doing, shock spreading over his face as William starts laughing.
“Yes, that’s it. Be a hero. Be a man. Kill me again!” Roxton shakes his head, not yet dropping his fist.
“I loved you, William. I’m sorry,” Roxton says softly, releasing his brother. “I was trying to save you.”
“Save me?” William mocks, laughing as he walks to the balcony of the Treehouse. He climbs up on the handrail, his grip on the overhang the only thing that keeps him from falling. “Remember how I used to be terrified of heights, brother?” he asks as he starts to swing. Roxton follows the movement with his eyes, one hand held to his ribs.
“What are you doing? Get down,” Roxton orders, voice rough.
“Giving you a chance to make it up to me,” William explains cheerfully, releasing one hand.
“Stop it. No more games,” Roxton answers sternly, carefully approaching his brother. William laughs, his antics becoming wilder until he nearly loses his footing.
“Oh, that was a close one,” he says mildly.
“Get down off there!”
“Come on, John. It’s a long way to the ground, but you could save me,” William says, looking at his brother as he lets go and falls.
“NO!” Roxton bolts forward to catch his brother, leaning over the edge of the balcony too far too fast and starting to fall himself.
He doesn’t care.
“WILLIAM!” Something’s stopping him from falling, from saving his brother, and he tries to shake it off, still shouting for his brother.
“Roxton!” It’s coming from a long way off, and he tries to bat it aside and go after William.
“NOOO!
“Stop! Snap out of it!” And Roxton does fall silent because that voice shouldn’t be here. He blinks, panting, looking around the cave and at Summerlee, all bathed in the eerie red light of the magma shaft he nearly fell into. Summerlee goes through Roxton’s pockets, searching for a handkerchief. “Here!” He shoves the cloth over Roxton’s nose and mouth. “Put this over your nose. The fungus is hallucinogenic,” he tells Roxton, who’s still breathing hard. He looks around the cave again to be sure it’s real. “Now, come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
The two explorers climb to their feet, a new look of horror appearing on Roxton’s face. “Marguerite!” He dashes past Summerlee, back up his tunnel and down the one Marguerite took, coming upon her just as she’s turning her pistol on herself. He crouches in front of her, taking the weapon away.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to play with guns?”
“No!” Marguerite screams, beating him with her fists, and starting to ramble. Roxton catches her in his arms.
“Shhh, it’s okay! It isn’t real.” She keeps struggling. “Marguerite, look at me!” He grabs her hair, forcing her head back so he can see her face. “Look at me. It isn’t real.” She quiets, finally seeing him through tear filled eyes.
“Noooo,” she half sobs, half moans as Roxton moves with her back to Summerlee.
“Let’s get her out of here.”
“Yes, but what about the bones?” Roxton frowns, but hands Marguerite off to Summerlee and turns around to stand over the bones that Marguerite had found.
“What about them?” he asks darkly.
“Well, how can we be sure they’re Lapprand’s?” Summerlee asks, using one hand to stroke Marguerite’s hair. Roxton bends over to pick up the gun Marguerite found.
“A.L.” he says, pointing to the initials engraved on the grip. “Alfred Lapprand.” He brings it back to Summerlee. “Take a look for yourself,” he says, holding an arm out for Marguerite as she buries her face in his chest again. Summerlee nods, handing his torch to Roxton as he pulls out a bag to put the bones in. Roxton holds Marguerite tight while they wait. She’s still crying, but is much quieter now. He has a feeling this won’t last long.
“I have an idea,” Summerlee says once he’s gathered up all the bones.
((Dialogue mostly from The Lost World.))