After AnimeCon: Silver Lining

“Dgou can’t,” Chloe slurred out. “Bwian blease, dgou can’t. Blease.”

Brian wanted to sigh and explain himself for hitting her, because he was sorry that he had to do that, but those old apologetic words just didn’t come out. They weren’t there within him to begin with, anymore. As he examined her in the shaky light from above, Brian saw that she was the very picture of pity and helplessness—everything except her eyes, where Chloe was unable to conceal her rage.

Realizing that Chloe was feigning her vulnerability here was another twist of the knife. She wasn’t scared, or hurt, or terrified and pathetic, and maybe she never had been. It was an act, a mask worn by a predator because pretending to be weak was useful. It gave her leverage over him, and now Brian felt like he saw her for who she truly was, a vicious woman who had never cared for him, repeatedly trying to flip a lever that had always worked in the past. And increasingly angry and frustrated that her control over him in this aspect now seemed to be broken.

Who IS this down here with me? Brian had to wonder as that knife of betrayal in his guts soured into a feeling of revulsion. I know that it’s Chloe, but now I know that I never KNEW Chloe.

Her shaking pupils locked onto his, seething holes of bitter hatred that had been burned into the heart wrenching expression that had been carefully constructed to evoke sympathy from him. He didn’t remember her eyes being such flaws—in the past they had been neutral, judging but distant, unemotional and hadn’t spoiled each of the various facades she wore. Had she just been a sociopath all along? What had changed, when had she changed?

“Bwian,” Chloe pleaded, glaring venomously from behind a face of sorrow and distress. “Dgou—dgou can’t do dthis. Dgou can’t.”

The week after the breakup, and then at the start of the convention, it’s like all I could think about is HOW DO I FIX THIS, Brian’s mind raced back through memories that now felt strange and unfamiliar. HOW DO I SAVE OUR RELATIONSHIP. But—WHY? Why did I believe she cared about me? What had me so desperate for her forgiveness and approval? I thought that we loved each other. I thought that—I thought—

Right now, all of that seemed like a joke.

The unbridled adoration he saw every time he met Stephanie’s eyes made him look back and realize how calculative Chloe’s looks of affection had been throughout their relationship. Kelly’s measured words seemed to cut Chloe’s constantly reinforced reasonings to tatters, because too much of Chloe’s rationale about him—and about men in general—were half truths groaning beneath the weight of bias. Bias so skewed it began to seem like outright malice. Misandry. Emily radiated joy and enthusiasm whenever she was around him, she was thrilled to be around him and seemed in a fluster to share that manic happiness with him. The girls loved him, really loved him, and when he took that realization of love and looked for it in the couple years he had spent with Chloe… it wasn’t there.

It never had been.

I imagined it, I guess, Brian almost sagged with the sense of loss. I was so—I don’t know what I was. Desperate for someone to love me, REALLY love me, that I just built up this fantasy relationship in my head, and I superimposed it over Chloe, because she was my girlfriend, and just ignored or gaslit myself out of seeing all sorts of obvious signs, I guess. She didn’t have to be some master manipulator—I made it easy for her. Because I WANTED the picture perfect relationship to be true, I thought if I just worked at it enough I could MAKE it come true. That yeah things are difficult now, but someday way off far in the future, we’d be happy together, and look back on all the struggles we overcame together, and—and—

No, she just took advantage of him.

That knife of betrayal twisted deeper in his gut for one horribly painful moment, and when it finally withdrew, it felt like it had taken a piece of him with it. A layer of naivete had been cut away forever, and with it came a good deal of his innocence. He honestly didn’t feel better for it. Ugly parts of him that had been buried or suppressed deep down now felt naked, as if they were now bared to the world instead. This was just the new him; a much more bitter Brian, but one who would never trust so blindly again.

No, I’m just—right here in this moment I feel that, but it’s not really true, Brian remembered Stephanie, and Emily, and Kelly, and despite the intensity of this current gutpunch of melancholy he was feeling right now, focusing on them was the sobering reality check from that he needed.

“Rebecca, hurry!” Emily’s voice echoed out from above. “Brian, she’s—she’s on her way. Just, just. Yeah. She’s on her way.”

“Bwian dou can’t—Bwian blisten do me, dgou can’t—” Chloe sobbed.

“Brian? Brian, say something,” Kelly asked. “Please. Steph’s, uh, with everything she’s feeling she’s all locked up, and if you lock up too, then what—”

“I’m here,” Brian managed to bite out the words.

“Bwian blisten to me—”

“I’ve got it!” Rebecca’s call was still some ways away, and the sound of her crunching towards them through the leaves and brush sounded distant.

“Dgou CAN’T—”

“She’s almost here!” Emily promised. “Rebecca has the charm! Brian she’s—”

For long moments Brian had been so absorbed in his thoughts he’d heard no one else say anything, and then with what felt like the ear-ringing silence of a battlefield explosion subsiding, it was as if everyone was speaking at once. Chloe was cowering in one corner of the grave, fake-crying while she got her feet back under herself in preparation for what was surely one last lunge of resistance, Emily was urging Rebecca on and assuring Brian she was almost here, Kelly’s quiet voice could be heard pleading from up above him and also it was as if she was whispering right in his ear—

Steph—I’m okay, Brian tried to direct his thoughts into her. I’m okay. I love you. I’m okay.

The feedback bleed rush of emotions warbled for a moment as if an unknown observer in the back of his mind was startled awake. Brian didn’t think his specific words carried across their bond, but hopefully his intentions did.

“Bwriaann BLEEASE—!”

“Stephanie? Steph, it’s alright, it’s alright—”

“No, no—Kelly here, take the fucking jar!”

“Emily—here! Catch!”

“Blease don’t, blease—”

“Got it! Brian—”

“I’LL FUCKING KILL DGOU—!!”

Chloe threw herself at Brian as if Brian hadn’t been watching her prepare to jump, and he caught her forearms and twisted her into the wall of cut-off root stems in another small cascade of disturbed dirt coming down on both of them. The sheer ease of countering her last big move should have felt cool, but it didn’t feel cool. He either didn’t feel anything at all, or the weight of all of the things he was feeling at once blotted out everything else. She screamed as he held her against the earthen face of the grave, Chloe gnashed her teeth and put up a fierce struggle but whatever surge of adrenaline she put behind her feeble, frail arms wasn’t enough.

“I’ll—Bwrian I’ll fucking kill dgou!”

“I’m sorry,” Brian said through clenched teeth.

Her bloodied face was distorted with madness as she huffed and screamed, but each time she managed to force herself inches away from the side of the grave he just wrestled her back into position. It was a bit of a strain, but that was it. His arm stung, and a couple dead leaves were stuck to the blood there where she had bit him, but actual physical sensations were remote, far-off things compared to forcing someone he’d once decided to give his heart to into a horrible end.

“AHHHHH—AHHHHHH—HHH—HHHHHH—!—!!” Her scream was positively ear-piercing when she was this close.

“Chloe… goodbye,” Brian didn’t know what else to say.

Emily crashed down atop them, almost landing completely on Chloe and pushing her out of his grip before Emily managed to unsteadily rock against the one wall but stand on her feet.

“Bzzt, bitch!” Emily snarled, and the wooden charm in Emily’s hand slapped across Chloe’s neck, eliciting a sharp snap of a silvery electrical arc and the smell of burning air.

Brian pushed forward and kissed Chloe on her bloodied lips, pressing her head back into the dirt.

Time seemed to hang and stand still for a long moment as Brian’s awareness careened through jagged passages. Stephanie behind him was cut off from him in a wash of searing silver, making Brian realize just how deeply intertwined their emotions had been, but before he could dwell on the sudden loss of connection there, he was fighting his way through painfully thin crevices as terminal speed, cracks so horrifically thin they seemed to shear parts of him away as his senses fell deeper and deeper inside.

This—this fucking HURTS, Brian was mesmerized by the blur of edges.

The way forward was more and more difficult, and there was no controlling the pace—he felt as though the decision to kiss her fired power into Chloe like a bullet, but the Chloescape to suddenly navigate in that instant was a hostile glassy labyrinth of silver shards. Brian’s consciousness veered from one razor sharp protrusion to the next as he careened onwards without direction, and though there were lucky instances where he avoided being severed or split in two, more often than not the trip seemed to simply be shredding him into ribbons.

Fuck, shit—FUCK, Brian shot past a hungry swathe of glass tinged with red. What the fuck?!

He had no idea where he was supposed to go or what he was supposed to do, and the mirror surfaces scraping by him in every direction felt like they were flaying him alive. Except, as an out of body experience of some kind, what these broken bits were stripping and shearing away from him was not material flesh or muscle. Brian had no mouth but he was screaming, the speed at which he advanced was a blinding mess of glittering silver and ravenous red, it hurt, IT HURT, shards tore away pieces of him, he screamed without a voice—and SCREAMED—

*     *     *

For nine full seconds Emily watched in terror as Brian kissed Chloe and nothing happened. Magic was pushing into the air around them in a soundless vibration but it felt wrong, and every hair on Emily’s body stood up. If her Brian hadn’t foolishly dropped down here into this stupid Vietcong pit trap that used psycho ex-girlfriend instead of sharpened stakes, Emily would have already bolted away from here and been back at the cars. This magic was wrong—it was going wrong. Everything was wrong. It felt as though she was standing inches away from a live power line that had fallen down. She could feel its dangerous hum like she was just a brush away from instant death.

Brian—! Emily clutched the wooden charm to Chloe and watched him paralyzed in his kiss.

Then, Brian jolted back into the opposite wall of the enclosed space as if he’d been kicked. He was suddenly perspiring all over and soaked with sweat—and a single silver streak appeared in Chloe’s hair.

“Brian?!” Emily cried, immediately abandoning her hold on Chloe to support him. “Brian, are you—Brian are you okay?!”

“She’s—” Brian worked his lips and Emily saw blood on them in the LED light from above. “She—”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe croaked out.

Emily flinched back as they turned their attention back to the dirt-covered girl sharing the small space with them, and the light turned to better illuminate their foe.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe—or perhaps Christine, repeated. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck was that?” Kelly demanded. “What happened?!”

“She’s, she was,” Brian spat out a glob of blood. “Really fucked up in there.”

“Yeaaah well no shit,” Emily blurted out before she could stop herself. “Should we, uh, do we—?”

“Take the fucking jar,” Kelly insisted. “Emily, here. Take it. She’s only partway silver. Hurry.”

“No, stop,” Brian shook his head. “No jar. Chloe?”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe pleaded, tears rolling down her face.

“Chloe, sorry,” Brian said. “I’m going to kiss you again.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Brian said with a ragged breath as he moved back in to kiss her again. “Me too.”

*     *     *

This time rather than a death maze of severing edges it was as though he was—or at least, all of the many ragged pieces of him—were slowly falling towards the surface of a mirror world below. A smooth polished expanse of mostly perfect mirror. There were still jagged crenelations here and there, but as he struggled to remain conscious, the spiderweb of glass cracks were vanishing, and the broken pieces were sinking down into their missing places.

Brian was fucking exhausted, barely there, and whatever conduit of power existed connecting him to her felt like it had overextended every mystical reservoir and strained every mental ligament and was going to be in need of emergency care. He was spent, it was the total opposite of the magical way he had been reinvigorated sharing that powerful intimacy with the girls last night. More than just spent, he was in deep deficit, and although last dregs of power pushed through the attempt at a kiss, a moment later it stopped being a kiss and was simply lips touching; a meaningless contact of skin against skin.

When he opened his eyes and pulled back, his vision was swimming in and out—darkness clawed at the edges of his consciousness and it felt like a single lapse of his attention would have his body dropping. This time, the silver streak in Chloe’s bangs was a bit bigger, and then there were another two or three strands of silver threading through her dirty tangle of hair on the other side. She was staring at him through a blur of tears and openly, uncontrollably crying, wracked with sobs that shook her entire body.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe wept. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry—”

“Brian?!” Emily demanded. “Hey. Brian. Look at me. Are you—”

He blearily turned his head towards Emily as her words faded into obscure sounds, and then the world went dark.

*     *     *

“Brian?!” Emily shrieked.

“Get him the fuck out of there!” Kelly called down.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry—”

“I’ll help!” Rebecca placed one hand on the ground and then hopped down into the hole.

The grave had seemed positively enormous throughout the past month as she’d dug it out, but with four of them inside it there was almost no room to maneuver. Whatever kiss of magic he had performed had expended all of his energy at once somehow, because Brian was out cold, his body dropping forward and almost doubling Emily over. Rebecca rushed to assist, pushing herself in between them and hefting up Brian’s arm over her shoulder. He was heavy, and though she kept him from squashing Emily and Chloe, his legs were still giving out from beneath him and Brian began to slide and scrape down the wall.

“I’m sorry. I’m—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Emily retorted in a huff of annoyance. “Can we just—I don’t know, brain her with a rock or something? I don’t care if she’s got silver streaks, I don’t even care if she’s sorry. Fuck! We’ll just tell Brian that uh, that Chloe died on the way back to her home planet, or something. I don’t care!”

“Are you Chloe, or are you Christine?” Kelly called down, dropping to her knees at the edge above. “Hey. Look at me. Are you Chloe, or are you Christine?”

“I-I don’t—” Chloe clawed at her own face as tears and snot and clumps of dirt muddied her expression. “I don’t know!”

“I don’t even trust her,” Emily scowled. “She could be faking it. Again.”

“I’m so so sorry—!”

“Christine,” Rebecca planted both feet and shifted more of Brian’s weight onto her shoulders, helping Emily get him back upright. “You’re Christine. Do you know where you are? What’s going on?”

“I’m—I know,” Christine cried. “I know, I’ve been, I’ve been here. I’m sorry.”

“Emily, no—like this,” Rebecca instructed. “Get under his other shoulder. We can get him up.”

“I’m trying,” Emily groused. “How the hell are we supposed to get him out of here?”

“So, what was your plan,” Kelly asked, shining the phone’s light in Christine’s face. “What was Chloe’s plan?”

“It um, I—I was just going to run,” Christine tried to explain. “I—Chloe, she just wanted to get away. She didn’t know about this, uh, the grave.”

“And, you’re not Chloe?” Kelly interrogated.

“Please, no—I—no, no,” Christine sobbed. “I don’t want to be. I’m, I’m so sorry, for, for—”

“She’s probably lying,” Emily hissed. “Kelly, can you pull him from where you are? Pull him up?”

“I-I can help!” Christine said.

“Fuck off,” Emily snapped.

“Emily, stop,” Rebecca said. “Christine, here.”

Many hands made light work… is what Rebecca would have loved to say, but the fact of the matter was that getting an unconscious guy out of a six-foot-deep hole in the ground was a near impossible task even with five girls working in tandem. The light disappeared as the phone was set aside somewhere, and for several difficult minutes a stern Kelly and an eerily silent Stephanie pulled Brian’s arm and shoulder up while Rebecca lifted him from below and Emily and Christine attempted to help. Or at least, she thought they were trying to help—Emily was swearing up a storm and started crying herself, and Christine’s efforts seemed too timid and flighty to be much of a meaningful contribution.

Finally, they managed to get Brian’s upper body partially hanging off the edge up there, and Kelly and Stephanie managed to hold him in place there while Rebecca hurried to climb up around them and then drag him the whole way up. Emily clambered up next, accepting help from Kelly, but when they retrieved the phone and pointed it back down, Christine was hunkered down, hugging her knees.

“I’m sorry,” Christine sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you grow a fucking conscience finally?” Emily scoffed. “Is that what happened?”

“I was—she was, she was going to run and hide,” Christine stammered out, refusing to face them. “In the woods. She was going to run and hide, and then… once you were all drawn away, sh-she was going to sneak back down towards the road. Since it was dark. I, I don’t know if anyone but me even remembers, but Brian, he used to keep a spare key. In a magnetic thing, beneath his car. If—”

“Fucking hell,” Emily swore, kicking dirt into the exposed grave.

“Emily, stop,” Rebecca said, hooking her arm through Emily’s and pulling her back.

“Thankfully, that wouldn’t have worked,” Kelly spoke up. “Emily never put that key back, it’s the one I’ve been using. When I drive Brian’s car out to Dollarydoos for shifts.”

“Th-that’s good, then,” Christine let out a laugh and then a sniffle. “Good. I’m sorry.”

“So, what was your plan when you were down there with Brian?” Kelly asked.

“No, I—there was none,” Christine shook her head. “She was cornered and couldn’t see a way out. Just wanted to hurt Brian, h-hurt everyone, anyone, as much as she could. Because there wasn’t any way out. Even the blood—she thought about the blood magic, being on the blood magic again, but that wasn’t a way out either. Because she’d just turn into me. She’d stop being Chloe.”

“So, you’re Christine?” Rebecca clarified.

“I don’t know,” Christine said. “I think—I think you should kill me. I don’t think you should take any more chances. I’m not coming out of here. I don’t want to. I won’t. I’m not coming out of here.”

“If we tell you to drink like, fifteen ounces of magic cum, will you do it?” Emily demanded. “Your hair’s not fully silver, even. So—”

“If you want me to, I will,” Christine shook her head. “But, I don’t think you should waste it. Just—let me die. You should just let me die, please.”

“We’ve all had a very emotional night, but I don’t think we should jump to any um, any conclusions or do anything that can’t be undone, okay?” Rebecca tried to sound comforting. If we ask you to come up, will you come up? How’s your nose? Your hands?”

“I’m—I’m fine, I think,” Christine flexed her hands. “They’re better. I’ll climb up if you want me to. But, I, I really don’t want to come up. I think it’s better if I stay right here. What do you want me to do?”

“We bind her hands and feet again, no matter what,” Emily decided in a low voice. “Okay? Right, Rebecca?”

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Kelly said, casting a heavy sigh across the now dark woods.

“Stephanie’s latched onto Brian. We take care of him first, take care of them. Get them situated or whatever with a sleeping bag. Emily, you’re gonna stand by here with the light while we go set up back there. Keep an eye on her. If she makes any sudden moves or tries anything, call for help, kick her back down, smash her with the jar—I don’t fucking know. If she’s good and stays put while we’re getting Brian settled in, leave her be. No taunting, no provoking—just, leave her be. Chloe had her chance and she blew it, now we need to let Christine have her shot tomorrow. Brian will want to speak with her now that she’s less crazy. Okay? Emily, look at me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Emily scoffed. “Fine. Hurry up.”

“We’ll be back to pull her out soon as Brian’s safe,” Kelly promised. “Okay? Then, she goes back in the cuck shed and under lock and key ‘til tomorrow. Where we start all of this bullshit all over again, but hopefully now with less Chloe.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily said. “Hurry up.”

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