Amnesia: Clarice, chapter 3

Amnesia: Clarice.

(Disclaimed.)

I don't know whether to be pleased or annoyed by the fact that my suite mate
automatically calls for my help at the first sign of a cricket.

Perhaps she had killed a good maid, perhaps she had kill a best friend,
maybe even a dear sister. She had killed a lot of people. All she could do was
sit in repose and wait.

Chapter three:

What was left of her dress, she had left by the water's edge, what could be
used, had been used, and now she sat against the wall in nothing but her corset
and the better half of her drawers. What was left of her clothes that was not
lace had been torn into makeshift bandages and used for the purpose of modesty
and to treat the few injuries they had accumulated; Alois had broken his arm,
and there were raw patches on his arms and legs from where his chains had rubbed
him raw. In the better light, she had looked at the metal collar and tried to
find a way to get it off that did not involve bringing a saw close to his
neck, but all she found on both his collar and Basile's was a bolt that was
rusted in place, and none of them had the strength to move either one of
them.

Still, Alois and Basile were both free of their chains, for the most part,
and what had been embedded in skin was tied down with scraps of her dress to
keep them from moving too much. And the water, though probably not the best, as
she had Alois had both commented, had been a comfort everyone had been denied
for quite some time.

She pulled from the pile beside her an unusable length of lace from her
dismantled petticoat and draped it around her shoulders. If there was nothing
but water up ahead, recycling her dress was probably the best thing she had
done. It would only weigh her down in the water. She would be quite cold when
she got out, of course, but she would dry off soon enough.

The hand that did not hurt from sawing at chains plucked at Malo's violin
forlornly. She stared at the door a head and wished that she could hear
something, anything, even a fit of insane laughter, but she heard nothing.
Nothing at all. She just plucked at the instrument now to take the edge off the
silence. After all, the small passageway no longer echoed with the sound of a
rusty saw cutting through and equally rusty chains, and she was overcome with
the hollow feeling accompanying silence after a great deal of noise.

She drew her makeshift shawl tighter around her with her sore hand, and
looked back at the group. They had all fallen asleep. They must be weary, after
all, none of them had eaten in quite some time, and the only refreshment they
had had been questionable water. She would have boiled it if she had been able
to make a fire and had a clean vessel to do it in, but she had neither one.

Perhaps, if they were fortunate, no harm would come of it.

Of course, she should not call upon the powers of fortune at a time like
this. She wanted to wake them. They had been sleeping for what seemed like an
eternity, but she had no mark to the passage of time, aside from the slowly
melting candles. She was torn between finding Monsieur De'Vinny and letting them
rest. Perhaps she herself should close her eyes. She did feel tired.

She lay down, her feet to the water, curling up with Malo's violin cradled to
her chest.

She dreamed about the time she and Justine had watched that bird eat the
snail along the garden wall. Justine had seemed so strong and fearless then,
while Clarice herself could scarcely believe anything as beautiful and as a bird
could do something so cruel. Of course, she had grown up, and learned that birds
were capable of eating the flesh of dead humans, sometimes even live ones
if they looked dead enough, and like rats, they always went for the eyes
first.

So, of course, in the dream, after comforting her, Justine herself was
transformed into a great sable crane, and Clarice had become so small,
ungraceful, an insignificant compared to her it almost consumed her. She had
tried to run, but she found chains were wrapping around her legs like snakes,
and as she turned, that great crane stooped its dark neck, and plucked out her
eyes.

She awoke just as one would from a regular dream, though. No blind panic, no
cold sweat, just a small little gasp as her eyes snapped open. She noticed a
particularly sour violin chord, but realized it had simply been her playing it
because her hand twitched in the dream. It had been the jolt she needed to wake
her up, it was not until she realized everyone else was awake too, that she
noticed that the chord was actually echoing across the small passage. All
heads--even the blind ones--turned to her reproachfully and she gathered up her
makeshift shawl in embarrassment, "S-sorry." she muttered, still clutching the
instrument to her heart. When the expressions on their faces had made it quite
clear that they would be unable to return to sleep, she got to her feet and
rubbed her eyes.

"We press on." Clarice informed them, "Father, if you would take these scraps
of cloth, and try to keep them dry."

Gradually, they followed her lead of standing, not out of reluctance but out
of weariness. It was hard to remain plucky at a time like this, and she had
never seen herself as plucky to begin with. Boldly, Clarice opened the
water-worn door. It was freezing, that water! Like ice, it was! In the
places that there was light, she could feel slippery green algae growing on the
stones. The water swirled in the wake of the door, and nearly knocked the party
off their tired feet.

Still, they gritted their teeth and put up with the cold in the promise of
freedom and an end to this nightmare. For her, the real nightmare had
just begun. She tried not to wish Malo would hurry and show up, but that
was exactly how she felt. She wanted to see him, so no matter how horrible it
was, she would still have it out of the way. She searched high and low for the
answers in the knee -deep water and along the dank walls. She found nothing,
nothing but a mechanical door with a broken lever.

She searched the water at their feet for the lever, but could not find it.
Then, she deliberated with herself over which way was more likely to hide a
mangled suitor, and which was more likely to hide a lever. She chose the pathway
to her left, and trudged through the knee-deep cold towards a door which proved
nearly impossible to open, but she managed it. She found a room with many boxes
stacked up in the water¸ and a table, which had suffered considerable water
damage. That room lead to another, with a second damaged table, and boxes
floating everywhere. She pushed past those, Malo's violin still in hand, and
found a spare lever on the table. Next to it was another one of Justine's little
written taunts.

She did not want to pick it up. It would contain something about either
Basile or Malo, or perhaps Alois again. She did not really want to know what
Justine thought of this mess, it would only give her more reason to
dislike her mistress, and if there was one thing it was not smart to do, it was
make enemies with your employer. She bit down on her lip as she watched it
laying still in the candlelight, then, quickly, she snatched it up.

Basile provided quite the challenge, but I had a special, improved set of
restrains made for him. Alois has managed to learn how to locate me by sound,
and I took this into consideration when designing Basile's bonds. The collar is
essentially one used to humiliate slaves in the new world, made to limit the
movement of the head and create constant noise while walking. It is generally
used for slaves prone to run away or consider themselves equal to their
masters.

A fitting punishment for Basile, putting himself on the same level as
me!

No, above me. He was simply here to pursue a sexual relationship
with me, and while I do not really care either way, he should be punished for
this. I am not a prize, after all, and he does not want me, he wants Alois and
Malo to not have me.

Regardless, he shall be chained like Alois, simply weighted down. However,
his aggressive nature prompted me to do something else to hinder and restrain
him. I heard tell of a tradition among the native savages in the new world¸
where a young man's shoulders would be pierced, but only the skin, and a heavy
skull would be bound to him, he would be forced to drag it with him, or tear out
the crude bone hooks to prove his manhood.

That, too, suits Basile.

She moved to stuff it in her apron pocket, but realized that the notes must
have been left behind with the rest of her torn dress, so instead she stuffed it
down her corset and hoped it would not suffer any water damage while safely
tucked between silk and skin.

When she joined them again, it had occurred to her that if Malo had been
living down here, he had probably developed a bad case of gangrene while
sludging through this water... which they had consumed... and... And it
was really best not to think about it at the moment.

She jammed the lever into the empty space and pulled down. The door rose up
out of the water as the lever freed a gear, which turned more wheels, which
pulled on a chain, which probably turned more wheels. The party stood there,
those that had eyes were following the small clicks and clinks put to the
ceiling and along the wall down the hallway, which lead to the locked door.

There was a dull thunk.

And then there was a startled and ghastly roar.

She was rooted to the spot, her heart pounding; she turned to the direction
of the noise, "M-Malo? Malo de'Vinny?"

"Yes!" Alois said, "Malo. Come, trust us. You can't help him."

"They can all--"

"I'm pretty sure Malo was not included there." Basile informed her
frankly.

"Well, neither were you!" she shot back, trying to wrench free of
their hands.

Somehow, blindly, the two had forced her to walk through the door as Doctor
Founeir pulled down on the next lever and let it fall with a quick slam. She
heard the lever splash to the floor. She reached out uselessly. He was trapped
on the other side now. The five of them gathered at the center of this new
chamber, a raised platform, dry and lit by torches. She could hear someone else
churning through the water now. There were two doors, the Doctor took Alois to
the right, and Father David guided Basile to the left, leaving Clarice alone,
the violin gripped painfully in her hands.

Malo. He had played the violin so well, and had entertained Justine
and her two suitors for many hours many months ago. She had always paused in her
work to hide where no one could see her and simply watch him and marvel at his
slim, talented fingers, deftly bringing music on the page to life. She felt a
faint blush enter her cheeks at the memory, despite the hissed calls from the
four men around her. She snapped back to reality and steadied her stance. If
Malo was ever going to play again, he would need all of the courage she could
muster.

It did not matter to her what had been done. He could be blind and she would
not care. She just wanted to see everyone safe, maybe him a little more than the
other two.

"I grow tired..." she heard a voice hiss, "of my own
flesh!"

She pressed her free hand against a pillar for support (was that not their
purpose? Support?) willing the other four to hide and keep quiet. She heard
Basile and Alois both franticly motioning for her to join them in hiding, but
neither one could not see her silently refuse.

Then, Malo began to pound at the door. "Justine!"

BANG!

"Let me taste you!"

"Clarice, please!" Alois hissed barely above the banging.

"Get over here!" Basile ordered, not even bothering with secrecy.

"I'll be fine!" she said waving them away, hoping no one could see the fear
in her eyes or hear it in her voice.

"Child, quickly."

"It's for the best."

BANG!

"JUSTINE!"

"He's--not--blind!"

"W-what?"

"JUSTINE!"

BANG!

Clarice whipped her head back to the quickly crumbling door. And she heard a
wicked, warped memory of bright airy laughter. Sure enough, his eyes were not
white, but a sparkling green. The grime and mess and her complete terror
only served to make them brighter.

"I seeee you." He taunted.

She began to notice other things. First was his mouth. He had always had such
a bright smile, but now it seemed to really reach from one ear to the next, and
with a chill of fright she realized that it did! Justine had cut his cheeks open
from the corner of his mouth and had roughly sewn him back again. She raised her
hands to her face and made one small step back, her mouth open wide as if to
scream, but she could not. She could only force out a small, "They can all be
saved."

He began to walk forward, and she noticed his posture next. While he had
always been one for stage presence, he had in private life a bit of a slouch.
Something was keeping him down, and she soon saw it, it was a weight on
his neck, dangling from a chain, and a long, rigid second spine pressing his
back. That second spine seemed to be making him bleed with every step.

"Bonjour~!"

"They can all be saved."

Then, she noticed a bunch of things at once: the tooth marks on his arms
which had turned purple and the distinct smell of decay, but she could not tell
where it was coming from, and the fact that for a starved man that was hunched
over and probably didn't have much to speak of in the ways of feet he was
moving very fast and she was hardly moving at all.

She backed away on instinct, falling down into the water and soaking her
drawers through, and ruining the note. Black ink spilled from the note and
stained the inside of her corset and her skin. She got to her feet quickly,
scrambling for the violin, which had seen better days but it was the only
comfort or weapon she had at the moment. Where was it?

It was on the platform still. She must have dropped in shock without seeing
it. Malo did not even seem to see it. He was looking straight at her. Well, this
was what she had always wanted. It was just a shame it had to be like this in
the end.

"They can all be saved!"

"Hide and seek." He laughed, "Hide and seek."

"Malo!" she said, boldly climbing back up and hoping that a firm voice would
snap him out of his delirum. "Listen to me!"

It didn't. He just pounced on her and slammed her back into the
pillar, knocking the wind out of her and pinning her against it. She was staring
that the burning touch for a moment, and her eyes caught a small cage hanging
from the ceiling, the kind for dead bodies, swinging hypnotically.

Then, she felt teeth digging into her neck. This time, she really did
scream, but he had bitten into the whale bone of her corset strap, so he had not
been able to do much damage. It was more from fear than anything, but yeah, it
did hurt. "They can all be saved." she reminded herself through the pain, her
hand reaching out blindly, searching for the strings that were just out of her
reach, "There is always a way!"

Malo's teeth dug into her shoulder again, this time actually doing some
damage. And as much as she wanted to stop and contemplate the irony, she could
not. Sure, she had always wanted him on top of her, his face buried in
her shoulder, driven to a passion, but not in the sewers. Not when she was a
mess and not when he was trying to eat her. She still had the bow in her hand,
so with a little remorse, she screamed and jammed it upwards into his diaphragm.
He was forced to open his mouth to gasp for air and she managed to push him
away. He staggered back to the other end of the platform, where he made the
astounding observation.

"You... You aren't Justine!"

"No!" Clarice answered, "I am not Justine."

He did not seem to care again. There was a hunger burning deep in his eyes,
and she was probably the most appetizing thing in the room. He lunged for her.
She jumped out of his reach and grabbed the cage hanging from the ceiling. His
hand snatched her ankle, but somehow she managed to shake him off. The world
swam she swung out over the water turned to face Malo on her way back down. He
could see, unlike the other two, so he managed to duck and avoided being hit.
Howling, he vainly swiped at her ankles again. She gasped and climbed up the
cage, and when she feared he could still reach her, she scrambled up the chain,
and it pinched the skin of her hands as the links shifted and twisted, but she
did not cry out. She was out of his reach now.

She held onto the chain with all of her might, climbing up even higher so
that her feet were on the top of the cage. The arc of the swing had come to a
stall now, and she was now just hanging there, out of his reach. she wondered if
he could climb up with her, but knew that the chains weighing him down would
most likely prevent it. Good. That was for the best.

Oh, poor Malo!

The cage had stopped swinging completely now. He was eyeing her like a dog
would eye a choice cut of meat. It was not helping that the cage was spinning
lazily and that she was in her underclothes. No. Not that did not help one bit.
As much as she had wanted Malo to look at her that way, now she was
terrified out of her wits.

And this was the girl that had chased after Alois and had dared to
confront Basile.

Speaking of Basile, he and the Father were walking before her with a gear,
where Malo could not see them. She saw the good Doctor sneaking forward to help
them, and she felt a little comfort, then. They were going to help her get
through this. All she had to do was help Malo. All she had to do was give them
time.

"I... I always liked you best!" she found herself sobbing, partly for the
noise, partly because she needed too. "I... I never wanted Justine to court you
because I always liked you best!"

He stepped back. Basile and Father David froze for a second, for fear he
would turn completely and see them, "I... was so lonely!" she pumped out for the
moment. She had to keep him occupied. "Everyone else she had employed quit
because they were afraid, but I was more afraid of being called a coward than
being put down here, So... So I remained... But I was so lonely! I had to do so
much! I was working so hard to keep the place looking nice and... And you were
the only one that ever complemented my cooking! And... And... And now we're all
going to die here! Why do we all have to die here?"

Almost there! With very little subtlety, she swung herself a bit, making the
chain squeak. He jumped at the noise and leaned in. She kept talking.

"It... It wasn't right... what Miss Justine did to you. She... She got you
drunk on absinthe, just before the concerto. I saw her slip some into your
glass. Malo... Malo you were such a good violin player. Even if it was a happy
song you could always bring tears to my eyes. It was because you were playing
for Mademoiselle Justine, not for me and I knew you'd never play for me...
Malo... Malo I just want to get out of here, Malo. I just want to save you.
Malo... I'm so scared."

She buried her face in her arms, because the others had vanished, and she was
not sure if she was going to make it out of this one. She was not sure she
wanted too, anymore. Now that she had seen that Malo had resorted to consuming
his own flesh to survive. She cried so she could not see the freshly bleeding
tooth marks on Malo's arms. She heard wood scraping stone, though, and heard
metal chains tapping against the floor.

"This... This is mine." He whispered, kneeling on the floor, holding the
violin in diseased hands. He searched for the bow, and eventually found it. It
was painful to watch him try to tuck it under his chin, only to have the metal
collar get in his way, and the chain that bound his hands was the perfect length
for keeping him from playing. He started crying, too, curling up on himself.

"M-malo?"

He fixed his eyes on her again.

"You... You won't hurt anyone now, right?"

His eyes narrowed, and she climbed a little higher, because that was not an
acceptable answer. She saw the others gathered at the door way on the right side
of the room, but did not do or say anything. There was a moment of pressing
silence and she watched Malo watch her turning slowly in front of him.

Basile deliberately sloshed the water.

Malo turned.

Maybe it was because he was starving. Maybe it was because he saw his hated
romantic rival in a weakened state. Maybe it was because he had gotten desperate
and foolish. Maybe it was all three. He saw a target that was easier than her,
and he went for it.

"No!" she screamed, "Malo, No!"

Basile did not flinch. She heard Alois screaming and asking why things had to
turn out like this, after they had gotten so far. She heard Doctor Founeir
shout, "Now!"

Basile swung blindly.

Malo crumpled.

"The can all be saved." he said, swaggering, "I didn't hear it from
that bitch. I heard it from you."

Rather inelegantly, she tumbled down to the platform again, scraping herself
quite a bit as she did so. She walked towards them, and helped them loop Malo's
bound hands around the necks of herself And Doctor Founeir, because the
disturbed violinist was completely out cold, "It was a miracle you did not
miss."

"No. It's a miracle he's so easy to knock out." Basile told her as she opened
the next door, she did not bother closing this one. No one was chasing them,
after all, why bother?

They trudged through the water for a few more minutes, and Clarice's panic
began to subside, but so did her courage. So much so that she jumped and
screamed in shock when he heard a voice exclaim:

"Hey! You there! Help me, and I'll summon my men to save us from this hell
hole!"

She saw the man at once, of course. He was chained to the wall in a dry side
chamber. If she could place the voice, she would say it was the missing
inspector, and reasoning would confirm her conclusion, for she could think of no
other. She sloshed towards him, bringing Malo and the Doctor with her, saying
cheerfully, "Oh, don't worry I've got plenty of men!"

"Eh?"

"Come, Doctor, I trust you still have your saw. Let's free the Good Inspector
and be on our way."

Has anyone noticed that Malo's voice actor went, like waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay
over the top? Its the way his voice sounds that made me think. 'Oh, Justine
carved his face or something, so he sounds weird.' Also, he needs a slasher
smile. Which he now has. Or, perhaps a... slashed smile,
lolwut?