Chapter 4: Captive

Aaron awoke to darkness and found that his world was shaking and rattling back and forth. He heard a familiar sound, and after thinking about it for a minute, he realized what it sounded like: old, wooden wheels rolling over an old road. Aaron tried to move and felt a sharp pain in his wrist; something was holding them together very tightly. He tried to move his feet, felt another sharp pain, and realized that it was no use. The Witch had bound him together good.

Still, despite his situation, Aaron felt that someone, anyone, might help. Maybe if he yelled loud enough he would be saved.

“Hello?!  Can anybody hear me?!”  Aaron’s voice was a little hoarse from crying, though he didn’t remember crying, and barely rose above a whisper. In fact, the last thing he did remember was talking with that strange boy and thinking how beautiful those white flowers were.  Where am I?  Being taken some place, he thought, wrapped up in a sack.

“Can anyone hear me?!”  He tried again, only a little louder. There was no answer. Aaron tried again, but the only response was the sound of crunching gravel. 

Aaron tried shifting his body, hoping to find a more comfortable position but instead only succeeded in making himself more uncomfortable positions. As he was jostled about, he bumped into something hard and heard what sounded like pots banging together.

“I see you’re awake.” Aaron recognized the coarse voice of the Witch and stopped breathing. “Try not to destroy everything. We’re almost there. So I suggest you keep still. Keeping your mouth shut wouldn’t be a bad idea either.”

Where is she taking me? Aaron was unable to speak. The Witch’s voice was enough to scare him into silence. He thought of his brother and wondered what happened to him and that strange boy. 

Aaron heard the Witch grunting and her old bird, Esther, cawing. The cart continued on, carrying its unwilling cargo to who knew where. Not knowing what to do, feeling uncomfortable, and trying to keep his fear down, Aaron tried to remember what had happened.

He remembered talking to the strange boy, of course, but he could not remember his name. Probably because he’d only heard it once. He had never been great at remembering names. Even so, he continued to try and try, but nothing came. And after a few minutes of trying, he moved on to something else: the blank space of time in his head after meeting the strange boy and before waking up to find himself wrapped up in a sack.

Think, Aaron, think, he repeated over and over again. It was something he had seen his brother do on a number of occasions, whenever he was trying to find something he had lost. Well, Aaron had lost a memory, which he considered to be a very serious misplacement. He didn’t know why he was trying this particular technique because it never seemed to work for Jason. Usually, he would get angry and throw something, usually his cell phone, and Aaron would watch as it flew through the air…

That’s it! A memory of Jason flying through the air burst through his mental block.

That’s strange. Why would Jason be flying through the air? It was as if some giant had picked him up and tossed him.

Nevertheless, it was enough. Once one memory broke through, the rest followed in quick succession. He remembered the black vortex, the black vines, and he remembered that strange boy (Boy he was fast!) grabbing his arms, trying to hold on. But it was no use. Aaron had still been taken, pulled through that vortex to some unknown place, and tied up in a sack. He felt a thrill of triumph for remembering, but it was short-lived, for it did nothing to help him in his current predicament. 

Aaron felt the wagon slow and then stop.  He heard a few more grunts come from the Witch; guessing that she was trying to heave herself out of her seat. Aaron felt a sudden weightlessness and had the distinct feeling that he was gliding through the air, but which direction he was heading he couldn’t say. He could only hear the muffled grumbling of the wretched beast that, no doubt, using magic to carry him somewhere.

They traveled in relative silence for half an hour when Aaron heard the sound of thunder and could make out a few flashes of lightning through the cloth that imprisoned him. Aaron was getting more scared; he didn’t like storms, not one bit.  His body started trembling.

“Are we getting a little scared now?” The Witch croaked, with a slight smile in her tone.

“No.” Aaron’s voice was less than convincing, and the Witch only laughed.

“Just wait. In a few minutes your going to met a friend of mine and I think you’re going to like her.” She laughed even harder at her own joke and continued to trudge up whatever path she was on.

The Witch’s laughing didn’t last long, soon replaced by very labored breathing and frequent stops. Aaron was getting hot in his little sack, not to mention cramps in both of his legs; however, he did feel relieved to know that the Witch, despite her magic, was feeling a little put out.

The thunder and lightning grew in intensity as time passed, giving Aaron reason to jump every time a clap of thunder shook the earth. He couldn’t feel the ground at that moment, but he knew it must have been shaking along with him. Soon lightning and thunder no longer preceded one another; instead they overlapped, almost like an excited conversation where both people run over each other’s sentences… only much scarier… especially because Aaron was still dry. No rain fell from the clouds above.

After another half-hour, his movement stopped and then Aaron heard, through the incessant thunder, a tiny tapping sound of metal meeting metal.  To Aaron’s surprise, the thunder quieted, leaving only a ceaseless low rumpling no louder than a growling stomach. Then he jumped. An incredible, screeching sound struck his ears. It reminded Aaron of the time a teacher had scratched her nails on the chalkboard at school, only this time the sound was magnified a thousand times. Aaron started screaming in pain. The cords binding his hands and feet cut into his skin.

Is this what Jason would’ve done, screamed like a baby? Aaron thought.  He held his breath and gritted his teeth, trying not to scream from the pain in his ears, hands, and feet. Never show any pain.

The nails-on-a-chalkboard screeching stopped. Aaron relaxed, as much as he could considering the circumstances, and tried to wipe the tears from his face. He didn’t want the Witch to open the bag, see his tear-streaked face, and laugh her banshee laugh.  Then again, once Aaron was let out of his sack, what was he going to see?  Nothing pleasant, he was sure.  He felt he was moving again.

Aaron’s sack didn’t move far before it stopped again. The bag open beneath him, and Aaron closed his eyes. He fell and hit the floor with a thud. Whatever he hit felt cold when his skin touched it, like his mother’s marble countertops. Aaron pushed away whatever fear was keeping his eyes closed and opened them. 

Before his eyes was an immensely expansive room, the ceiling disappearing into darkness. The windowless walls were made out of some kind of black metal, lined with flaming torches; the light from the torches seemed to be absorbed by the walls and reflected back in an unnatural way. Everything was lit, but only just so. It was as if light itself was afraid to shine to bright in that place. The shadows, however, were not so encumbered; they shifted and danced, unafraid.

As he looked at the floor, he noticed that it too was made from the same material as the walls, and, likewise, didn’t reflect any light at all. He almost felt that he was walking on the night sky, except this night didn’t have any stars, no comforting breeze.

Behind him, far in the distance, he could make out a large door that reminded him of an old castle. It was also made of the same metal. Aaron began to think that this place was carved out of one very large rock.

“On your feet, brat.” The Witch said as she grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him onto his feet. She waved her left hand and the cords that held his feet and hands together fell to the floor and, to his horror, slithered away. Aaron felt her cold, dry hands grab his chin and squeeze, forcing him to look into her eyes, which were no longer a burning red but were black and beady.

“Now you listen to me. You’re going to keep your mouth shut until asked a question. And if you try to escape I’ll wave my hand and turn you into the vilest creature on the face of the earth. Understand?” Aaron nodded. He thought about asking what was the vilest creature on the face of the earth but decided that it was best not to know. The Witch let go of his chin and turned towards the door at the other end of the room. Aaron immediately followed.   

A room like the one that Aaron was in would create an echo effect at the sound of their feet walking along the floor; however, the sound seemed to die once it was heard.  Aaron’s stomach twisted in knots as he looked around hoping for something that he could use to help him. Again, Aaron’s thoughts drifted toward Jason and how he would handle this situation. However, there was nothing on the floor and only the fiery torches along the walls, and Aaron was doubtful that he could grab one of them and hit his abductor before she turned him into some awful creature. The best solution, Aaron figured, was to wait; after all, she hadn’t killed him yet.

They reached another door exactly the same style as the one behind them. Aaron thought that “door” was not a sufficient word to describe what stood before him, because like the walls on either side of him this immense door stretched into the darkness out of sight. Was the other door just as tall? Or was I too far away to notice? The Witch stretched out her hand and touched the door with one finger. They waited in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Aaron hoped that maybe they would turn around and walk out of this unnatural place, but he was soon disappointed because the door started to open.

As the door slid open, it made no sound that Aaron could hear. Beyond the threshold, Aaron could see some light, not the yellow kind created by the candles but a white light that made him squint until his eyes adjusted to its intensity. After a few seconds, Aaron was able to see that the light was coming from two shafts of light meeting at the center of the room. The room itself looked only slightly different from the one that Aaron had just left: the two shafts of light and a very large throne placed behind the beams of light. Aaron wondered at this, Aren’t thrones supposed to be in the light, not outside of it?

A crisp snap brought him out of his reverie and he saw that the Witch was several feet in front of him, beckoning him forward with a sharp gesture of her hand. He took a tentative step over the threshold and walked further into the room. They continued walking until they were standing in front of where two shafts of light met, with the throne just on the opposite side. Aaron held his breathe, hoping that no one was sitting on this grotesque piece of furniture, but again, he was wrong.

“Step into the light.” Said an old, scratchy voice, Aaron estimated that it was over two hundred years old. He hesitated, but was soon pushed into the light by the Witch. He was immediately bathed in the white light, and he soon realized that it too was unnatural. The light seemed to caress him like invisible hands running up and down his body. He wanted to cry.

“That’s much better.” Out of the darkness, beyond the light, something moved. A hand with gray, withered skin stretched into the light. One long finger caressed Aaron’s cheek and slid down beneath his chin shifting his head up and down then side-to-side, like the doctor did whenever he was sick. Aaron was sick all right, just not from any naturally occurring illness.

The hand released his face and disappeared back into the darkness.

“What’s your name?” Asked the voice.

“A. . .Aaron.”  He licked his lips.

“There isn’t much time left. This had better work Grizelda. This is your last chance.” Aaron looked behind him and saw that the Witch, who the voice had just named Grizelda, looked just as terrified as he felt. Who is this person? Aaron thought. Who could scare her so much?

“It will. I’m sure of it this time. We just have to wait for the older brother to come and rescue him. And then we. . . I mean, you will get what you deserve.” Grizelda said, wringing her hands.

“He’s so young. Pity.” Aaron was going to ask the voice what it meant but the floor disappeared beneath him, and his stomach flew up into his throat as he fell into darkness.