Do You Still Like Us?

“No Captain!” “Stop.” “No, we need this! We cannot stop evil if we do not win this end!” ‘we know this trick’ “No trick! This is not about the Captain we lost! This is about the Captain we have! This is about the end of it! We need to win this!” “Stop.” ‘we will win’ ‘but we will not take this’ /// “You are wrong.” /// /// /// Beating hearts drum in silence. The bloody room seeps and smolders into their moment, cementing their weakness, their wrongs and mistakes...their now floods now and all that brings with it. ‘you are right’ ‘we cannot run from this’ /// ‘we will beat this’ ‘and we will take this’ A dull, thudding of gears begins to rise from the crimson horror before them. From greasy, black cracks a faint cranking grows into a thick growl as rich reds saturate the gaze and obscure the details.

They arrive too soon, but not as soon as expected. A small moment of confusion they exploit to the fullest, they slip their quick and nimble ship through a crack of shadow and sail unnoticed and unknown deeper into the forever end of it. This is the all and thick of it, but they have lost everything to arrive, so they spoil no moment. Deft and silent and expert they sail, nimble and beyond quick they break through, through shadow and quick they land and creep, until room by hallway by room by hallway they creep and creep and creep forward until they have creeped to the end of it and IT stands before them, terrible... ...abominable...thick...and end of it. “That is the prize.” ‘it looks no prize’ A bloody, dripping room, full to the brim with horror beyond end... end proper, and them only armed with the hope of end of IT, end proper. 2 little girls and their crew bravely continue to creep forward as they frantically whisper to each other in shadow. ‘we cant make sense of this senseless scene’ “That is the poin

Weeks blow by in foggy depths, but eventually the sun shines high again and the 2 little girls stand clear eyed and determined on the deck of their ship. A briny, endless gust billows their sails taut, leading their way forward, pushing and stretching their pace and bent. “The weather has turned.” “And we make good time.” ‘it leans us too far oblique’ ‘keep an eye on the sky and push of it’ ‘we need to approach with our own purpose’ “Of course Captain.” Quickly orders are deftly shouted as muscles tense and ropes pull sharp and tight. The crew pushes and rages against destiny, led by 2 little, fearless girls as endless winds continue to gale, the crew little by little make their way purposefully and determinedly forward.

The Captain’s quarters are messy, disarrayed and sad. 2 little girls stand tired and spent listening to Genna and Jessie pummel them with questions. “What do we do next?” “Where do we go?” ‘we need to rest’ ‘and process’ “The crew is at their end.” “They need leadership.” ‘we sail away from this place and towards the end of it’ ‘but, we need to rest and process’ ‘you lead the crew for now’ ‘set sail to the end’ ‘we will be ready soon’ “Of course Captain.” “We will prepare for...the end.” A sardonic smile creeps upon Jessie’s face. ‘thank you’ 2 little girls, now alone in the captain’s quarters collapse into their bed and cry until they quickly fall asleep. The night brings darkness and rest and time.

“Where is the Captain? Where is the thing we sought! What happened?! Have you seen the broken throne?? Is the old king gone!?!” The crew’s desperate questions flood and overrun the stifled, tense air. 2 sad, little girls heave heavy sobs as they stand hand in hand on the deck of their familiar ship in front of their familiar crew. ‘the old king is a powerless thing’ ‘he will continue to fray and wither to nothing’ ... ‘we must continue forward’ ... “But how, we have not won what we need?” “We have lost so much.” ‘we do not need what we could have won’ ‘we go forward’ ... “Yes...Captain.” 2 sad, little girls stand up straight and walk purposefully to their cabin. ‘Genna’ ‘Jessie’ ‘we will rework our plans tomorrow over breakfast’ ‘and sail away from this forgotten place’ ... “Yes Captain.” “Yes, Captain.”

... ‘ok’ ... ‘we see it now’ ‘we cant force you’ ... ... ... “so you leave me?” ... ‘if that is what you want’ ‘if that is what you choose’ ‘but we love you’ ‘and we still see you’ ... ‘come back with us’ ... ... ... “i’ll stay...i will use this old king to win a new thing.” ... ... ... 2 sad, little girls walk back through a broken archway, back to their crew, back to their ship, back...without their Captain.

The Captain continues to cry, a broken mess of hopelessness. ‘we need to take her from here’ ‘away from it’ 2 strong gals confidently grab The Captain underneath her armpits and begin to drag the sobbing, struggling thing towards the broken window that brought them here. It is a heavy mess of effort and ugly, but with each step the 2 little girls grow more determined to win, to win back their Captain, to win back their crew, to beat that obsolete king back into oblivion and show that they never have to give in. “ please!” The poor Captain pleads, “...we need it, we need this, everything is about this, we can’t go on without this, there is no way to win without this...please help me solve this....keep this...help me find a way....forward ” The Captain continues to cry, a broken mess in need of help. ‘we need to take you away from here’ ‘we need to save you’ ‘without this’ 2 strong gals strongly drag their Captain to safety, their steps in sync and as they draw near to the threshold a fiendish, quiet laugh quie

‘we need to tear this throne down, forever’ “NO!” The Captain’s primal scream screeches through the dead air. Her once dulled eyes now mad and sharp. Saliva froths at the corners of her bared lips. Teeth gnashing she glares at the 2 little girls. ‘we see you monster’ ‘we will tear down your throne’ ‘we will stop bad’ “And will you lose me with it? Can you destroy even me now?” ... ‘and who are you’ “I am your Captain!” ‘and we still see you’ ‘and we still love you’ ‘and we will stop bad’ A slim sliver of thought, an almost real beam of translucently pure moonlight slips into the room. A slight shift, a breath, a choice, a blink. Darkness shrouds all for a single beat. And The Throne lays Broken in a room now over stuffed with bleached bare bones endlessly crammed into folds of shadows pouring beyond the endless. The Captain lays broken beyond repair, beyond despair, a heap of tears and shame and regret. ‘we see you’ ‘and we love you’

The 2 little, mad girls rush the Broken Throne, furiously ripping eye from socket, tooth from jaw, tatter from bone, king from throne until a heap of a thing lays piled before them, dusty, worthless and lifeless. “That is how he won me little ones.” ... ‘Captain it is over’ ‘the king is gone’ ‘come back with us’ ... “Don’t you see little ones, it all ends, it always ends, just like now, everything stops...and he can stop that. He has stopped that. So we can stop that. He has remained. We can remain. We need to stop the tragedy of it all. We can stop the tragedy of it all. It looks drastic, but it always does, we need to be drastic, we need to be bold, we need to find the way. He is the way, bold, beyond, tied to none of it. He is the way and we can stop all of the bad. We have to stop all of the bad. Help me stop bad.” ... ‘he is a monster’ ... “We need to be monsters. We need to be powerful and real and now. We need to stop bad.”

‘we are done with your spectacle’ ‘we are done with your old, musty godhood’ ... “Big words...from such tiny girls.” In a mad dash the 2 little mad girls run into the cramped and long forgotten room. They stand furiously heaving in front of a torn and rendered thing. Sad and pathetic their Captain knells before it. ... “You see, you have already lost....she is already wholly mine.” ... ‘you are a pathetic king’ ‘who leans too heavy on a shine past forgotten’ ... ‘Captain......’ ‘Come back to us...’ The Captain turns towards the 2 little girls, tears streaming from her eyes. “Save me from this monster.” A deep, lost rolling laughter rolls forth from the Broken Throne filling every dark crack and shadow. “She is ours.” ... ‘if you could take her’ ‘you would, faker’ ‘and so we end it’ ‘now’

Hair tangled thick with sweat clings to the 2 furious, little girls’ foreheads. Their chests heave with the effort, but they refuse to wilt to the heat of it’s power. As their freshly freed crew begins to stand to wobbly legs the 2 little girls determinedly climb over the freshly torn crimson curtains, now dull, muted and lifelessly piled high upon the floor. The room has become cramped and small, yet still dominated by that murky, milky mirror leaning against the far wall. The 2 little girls crawl over the heaps of fabric until they reach the other side, their 2 heavy sailor boots crash into the glass of that abominable, reflective surface, throwing tiny, newly worthless shards crashing down. A lost and old stone archway reveals itself from behind the crash, revealing a narrow and pinched hallway, coarse cold air blowing thickly towards them, everything leading to an ancient and astray place. They clearly see the Old King sitting upon it’s Broken Throne as their Captain continues to knell to it in complete a

‘we already know this dumb trick’ ‘kill us if you could’ The 2 angry, little girls jump from their decrepit thrones and grab as much fabric as they can hold and pull with all their furious strength. A long moment stretches into hopeless silence as they strain and sweat. Until a deep tearing rips into the room. Rich, darkly layered fabric begins to fall to the floor in musty heaps as the 2 little girls rip everything down. ‘empty threats!’ ‘from a empty forgotten king!’ A suffocating heat pours into the room as the 2 little girls rage and tear, rip, rend their way through every fold and crease. Their breath catches at the onslaught of heat, but they continue in their blind rage. Until they find a tightly wound lump of fabric, struggling and pressing, their strong fingers rip through the dark, crusty and crinkled fabric until one of their crew is free, freshly blinking and standing. ‘is that how you hide our friends’ ‘we know your gimmicks now’

Beyond dark. Beyond horror. Beyond forever that foul shadow sinks. Until a crimson room, deeply folded and overstuffed with darkly rich red fabrics focuses to now. A large murky mirror fills one wall. The 2 little girls sit on tarnished, mismatched and ancient golden thrones facing that looming mirror. “She is mine. She is lost to you little lost ones.” In the mirror the 2 little girls can see the Captain, on her knees at the feet of that decrepit, old king, adoringly kissing the rings on his bony, rotting fingers, her lips dry and worshiping. “Leave her here with me. Go without your pointless fight and I will not smear your crew into forever never been. Go back to your ship and the rest of your nobodies. Go and leave this thing here to me.”

‘it goes on forever’ “The old king hides behind his broken darkness.” ‘we must find a way through this murk’ “These daft doors blind the way, they open and open, but they never lead, we only run farther down this endless maze!” ‘we must stay calm, the Captain is gone and we must find her’ “She is mad now, there is no saving her!” ... “We should turn around. Go back.” ... ‘no’ ‘we go on’ ‘we find our Captain’ ‘we win our terrible prize’ ... “We will become never been.” ... ‘perhaps’ ... ‘but not before we see that madden King’ ‘not before we take what we have earned’ ‘not before we try to bring our Captain back’ ... “Ok. How do we go forward?” ... ... ... ‘look how the shadows drip and pool into that corner’ ... ‘we dive in’ ‘we sink to the bottom of that evil muck’ ‘we go forward’

the crew steps through the doorway. they enter a small room with an ornate, ruby door slightly ajar, the Captain’s deep steps clearly outlined in the soggy and gray sand leading straight to the door before they disappear. the crew steps through the doorway. they enter a small room with an ornate, emerald door slightly ajar, the Captain’s deep steps clearly outlined in the soggy and gray sand leading straight to the door before they disappear. the crew steps through the doorway. they enter a small room with an ornate, pearl door slightly ajar, the Captain’s deep steps clearly outlined in the soggy and gray sand leading straight to the door before they disappear. ‘we must stop’

Thick and vicious the darkness clings to them desperately, crawling across every inch of their skin as they plunge forward. The Captain is a faint and distant muttering somewhere out front, but time thickens with dark and the sounds become warbled and oblique. Everything becomes lost, everyone alone and everything forgotten. Still, slowly over eternity, the 2 little girls push forward, 2 hands tightly clasping and 2 hands determinedly searching the darkness ahead, until they find a friend. Everyone tightly holding on as they continue forever and away they again find another lost soul. And forward and finding they go until the entire crew is united, firmly clasping hands and of the same determined and dark path. Forever finally fades to a distance as they all see an ornate, onyx door, slightly ajar, appear in the gloomy distance ahead, the Captain’s deep steps clearly outlined in the soggy and gray sand leading straight to the door before they disappear. ‘we go forward’

The shock of their abrupt landing abruptly fades as they ignore their fatigue and get to work breaking down the door. Rotted wood easily crumbles away, letting the seeping, inky blackness freely pour across the glimmering sand. Where stood the door now stands a gaping maw, quivering in anticipation. In a moment the Captain moves forward and beyond, frantically whispering, “Come on you grovel-mogels, get on it, into the deep and thick of it you fools, or we’ll never win the day.” It is a whisper, but her movements are sure, a confident stride forward and then the Captain has disappeared into the ink and thick of it. She is gone and lost and they can only follow. One by one the tiny crew steels themselves for forward and one by one they step into that awful darkness. The 2 little girls go last, hand in hand and with beating hearts.

Endlessly their small boat rushes forward, the current now stronger than their flagging strength they can no longer direct a path through the increasingly confusing tunnels of murky, frothing water. Their only hope is the mean determination with which they are continuously dragged deeper and faster down the twisting and narrow waterways. Something is drawing them in. Cave walls become a jagged grey frenzy squeezing ever closer to the boat. Time slips farther and farther out of sync as cold moments hold and hold far past long until they have overtaken the next and the next and the next after that one. The 2 little girls turn towards the Captain and see her eyes are distant and milky, fresh spittle wet on her dry lips as she incoherently mumbles to herself. Then everything plunges into total darkness for an eternity of falling until their little boat wrenches to a violent stop at a tiny, sparkling shore of fine white sand spilling from a cramped and shallow cave. As their stinging eyes adjust to the sudden ligh

A brackish, still water surrounds their tiny boat, silent and still and yet still a constant dripping background, mismatched rhythms driving a maddeningly, frustrating off-beat. The 2 girls crowd the bow of the simple boat, squinting through the thickly dense fog, ignoring how sadly it weeps up the sides of their boat, silently clinging to their boots. Their eyes are small and acutely sharp, as they peer through the fog their fingers rigorously and quietly signal the Captain to the dangers ahead, directing their route through the stinking, treacherous cave. This is the course they have decided on, an endless series of flooded caves they hope will lead them towards that ancient, terrible throne. As they navigate deeper down the overwhelming sense of distance between them and their ship, anchored forever behind them, threatens to choke them to overwhelming. “Ahh, I had forgotten that sickly sour in the pit of your stomach when all seems lost. What a forgotten memory, perhaps this journey is worthwhile after all

Their voyage has taken a dark turn, heavy fogs hang thickly above the water obscuring all distance, muffling all sound. They have found many objects of precious and miraculous natures throughout their adventures, wondrous things that promised their ship could never be stopped. But still a sharp, electric snap crackles thicker and thicker in the air the closer they sail to the Broken Throne of the Old King. A static that bites and clings to their skin and lips and eyelids. The Captain is always at the helm, refusing to rest or eat until the crew has to force her below deck, faint and wobbly legged, so she can eat a meager meal and catch a few hours of restless sleep before it all begins anew. The 2 clever little girls have shown they have quite the aptitude for strategy and so while the Captain rests Genna, Jessie and the 2 little girls plan late into dim waxy lit nights. They search for a new and clever way to find that odious throne and steal its horrendous treasure.