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abduct-me-helen · 4 years

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Class 108′s Apocalypse Field Trip | Chapter 5.

“Marcy’s alive?” Jon asked incredulously, eyes wide in surprise. Martin stood next to him, and their height different was apparently “adorable,” or so class 108 had said.

“That’s what Annabelle told me.” Martin replied, thinking back to the conversation and searching for details in the way that she’d sounded. He knew he was dealing with the Web though; Annabelle was nothing if not manipulative and direct in both her overt and subtle actions.

“On the phone.” Jon raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“That’s where we talked, yeah.” Martin confirmed, his tone shifting as he looked behind them to see Elliot and Raphi snogging while the others, (minus Riko and Katie), chanted “make out! Make out!” over and over again.

Nope, he was not getting into that.

“How? Why is Annabelle keeping her alive?” Jon asked, pointedly ignoring what was going on behind them.

“She’s not, or at least that’s what she said. She thinks it has something to do with the End.” Martin told him wearily.

“That’s lucky for us.” Jon said.

“Why?”

“We’re coming upon the Corpse Roots soon enough.”

Martin perked up. “Are we going to, you know, go kill bill?”

Jon hesitated.

“Jon.”

“I don’t know, Martin. It’s-Oliver Banks rules over this domain.” He explained, gesturing wildly.

“So?” Martin questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I, I just don’t think…I don’t think he’s evil.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s a very benevolent ruler of a hellish fear prison.” Martin replied sarcastically.

“It’s just-he helped me. Wh-when I was,” Jon sighed, running his hand through his hair and taking a second to pause, “He woke me up.”

“Wow, what a hero.” Martin deadpanned.

“Martin?” Jon asked, amused and raising an eyebrow.

“What.” Martin said shortly. Jon made an amused noise, an all-too-knowing smile beginning to grow on his face.

“Yeah, alright; I know; I’m sorry.” Martin apologized quickly, sighing.

Jon was now smirking, voice full of amusement. “…Is there something you want to talk about?”

No, I’m-fine; it’s fine; everything’s fine! I’m sorry.” Martin said quickly, ducking away and speeding up his footsteps. Jon did the same to match him, a smug grin on his face.

“Martin…” His expression was like the cat getting the cream.

“I said it’s fine.” Martin snapped quickly.

“Are you jealous?” Jon questioned, oh so audibly smug.

“Yeah, Martin, are you jealous?” Raphi yelled, pulling away quickly before snogging Elliot once again.”

“Oooh…” The class’s eyes lit up, their voices in unison, getting higher in pitch as their call of smugness continued. Turning away from the couple, they advanced towards the two men who led the head of their group. Cal clapped politely at Elliot and Raphi as they broke away to join the rest of his peers in taunting Martin.

“Just-just, hey, why is everyone ganging up on me!” Martin cried indignantly. Elliot smirked, before starting a chant.

“Mr. Sims and Martin, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love-” Elliot grinned as he spoke, before Cal cut him off quietly.

“-Then comes marriage-”

“Then comes a baby in a baby carriage!” Tabitha finished, grinning with a smug glee.

“Don’t they have anything better to do then gossip about our teacher’s love life?” Riko scoffed, trailing behind the rest of the class with Katie at her right.

“…probably not.” Katie answered dully, looking on with something akin to judgmental fondness, as much as that could be expressed on someone who was as reigned in as her.

“…that’s fair.”

“I told you not to Know things about me!” Martin pointed at Jon, telling him off.

Jon laughed. “I really didn’t have to.”

“I-y-you-good. ‘Cause I’m definitely not.” Martin said stubbornly, looking ahead in defiance.

“Sure.” “Pfft, that’s such a lie-” “Are you scared he’s gonna steal yo’ man?” “PUT A RING ON IT MARTO!”

“Alright!” Jon agreed smugly, obviously taunting Martin.

“Look, I’m fine, alright?” Martin told him forcefully.

“You said.” Jon agreed, nodding with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, I did! And e-and even if I was jealous, I would be perfectly justified anyway, so!” Martin explained quickly, refusing to look Jon in the eye.

Class 108 was snickering, and Martin decidedly didn’t comment on that.

Respect your elders! he wanted to tell them. But he couldn’t control them, no matter how much he wanted to. They were teens.

Teens.

He sighed inwardly, mentally banging his head against a wall.

“But you’re not.” The fact that Jon’s amusement was almost tangible is one that Martin loathed.

“No! I’m fine.” Martin exclaimed.

“Hey, give him a break. I say murder is a go.” Elliot coos, and Cal laughs quietly behind him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Rosie said, laughing.

“Riko agrees with me. Hey! Riko! You agree, don’t you?” Elliot raised his voice, gaining Riko’s attention.

“Oh, I’m not getting involved.” She told him, raising her eyebrow.

“Pfft, boring.” He said, sighing dramatically.

“Tch.”

“Look. Martin, I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m not going to kill a man just because you’re jealous.” Jon and Martin continued to argue, both attempting, (and failing), to tune out class 108’s jeers.

“Why not?!”

Beat.

Martin deflated. “Yeah. Yeah, I know, I know, I know.” He sighed, before pausing. “Please?”

Jon laughed and Martin’s lip quirked upwards.

“Let’s go apeshit! Let’s go fucking apeshit!” Tabitha screeched, pumping her fist into the air.

“Language.” Jon chastised, heart not in it.

Tabitha stuck her tongue out.

Cypress felt…strange. It was the only way to put it. The corpse roots were comforting, in their own way, and he looked on with a fondness that should have surprised him.

It didn’t.

He knew what the End was now, but he still thought of it as death more than anything else. And he found peace in that.

Or maybe it was the depression talking.

He didn’t really care.

But he was pulled in, interested and feeling an odd, almost tugging need to do something. He had no idea what that something was, but he knew he’d find out soon.

“-know, but I just, I need to. I can be ignorant when all of this is going on!” Tabitha said loudly, surprising Cypress out of his reverie. He turned, and saw that she was talking to Mr. Sims.

“Statements…Tabitha, they change you. I’m not sure-”

Ah, so this was what they were arguing over. Cypress had been worried too. Tabitha’s hunger for knowledge was not knew, but the desperation to get it certainly way.

Or maybe not. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it had always been there it to an extent.

“Please,” she begged, voice rising, “I just-I need to know. This world, it’s…it’s terrible. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“You really think this will change anything?” Riko shot back acerbically.

“No, but it’ll make me feel better, so piss off.” Tabitha snapped, then sighed. “Sorry Riko.” She apologized.

Riko rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

Jon sighed. “Fine. Okay. You can listen.” Martin raised an eyebrow, and he shook his head. Tabitha cheered.

Cypress stepped closer. “I,” he paused, looking around before finalizing his thoughts, “I want to listen too.”

Jon was once again taken aback. “Why?” he said, incredulous.

Cypress shrugged. “I don’t know. I just,” he sighed, “I have my reasons, okay?”

Jon nodded slowly, sighing and motioning Martin to leave with the rest of the class, who looked on concernedly.

He waited a moment before he furrowed his brows and talked once again, looking up at the two students. “Once I start, I can’t stop. But if you get uncomfortable, at all, please leave. I won’t think worse of you or take offense. Agreed?”

Tabitha and Cypress nodded, but they both knew they’d stay, no matter how horrible it was. Jon sighed, and began the statement.

Report to prevent future deaths. This report is being sent to: The Great Eye that watches all who linger in terror and gorges itself on the sufferings of those under its unrelenting, stuporous gaze. And its Archive, which draws knowledge of this suffering unto itself.

One: Coroner.

I am Oliver Banks, sometimes known as Antonio Blake or Dr Thomas Pritchard. I serve The Coming End That Waits for All and Will Not Be Ignored.

Two: Coroner’s legal powers.

I make this report under no authority; no regulation or act of law save the hollow power and grim responsibility given me by the Termination of All Life. With it, I may see and spread the hidden veins of destiny that wrap us close and draw us through the empty, yearning parody of meaning that we call life, knowing at all stages that the last and final point of this journey is a blank and futile end.

I have no power to stop it, and even if I did, I would not do so. For to rob a soul of death is as torturous as its inevitable coming.

Three: Investigation and inquest.

On the first and last day of the age of the Beholding, I begin my vigil into the story of Cypress Evans.”

Cypress and Tabitha looked up, eyes wide.

“What?” They said in unison, before refocusing once again.

He was about thirteen when it happened. Or, rather, he happened. The tendrils of the lonely had clung to him, but that is not the focus of my tale. No, I suppose I’ll be blunt.

Cypress Evans killed himself.

Cypress grit his teeth, and Jon’s eyes were wide. Tabitha tried to get up, despite her curiosity, in order to preserve his privacy, but felt tied down to the roots like a string.

Cypress did the same, not wanting to remember the tale that was spilling from Jon’s mouth.

It wasn’t dramatic. He didn’t write a note, but in the days before his first ending he gave many gifts to those he cared about. Gifts that were his belongings.

He even wrote a small will, though it wasn’t as if it was anything official. He was thirteen; he didn’t have much property of his own.

But that is not the important part. What is important, is that he succeeded. Cypress Evans was officially dead for about five hours. No one found out.

Tabitha inhaled quickly, and this was not unnoticed by Cypress, who looked down in shame. She took his hand and gripped it while she maneuvered him to rest next to her, huddled into a ball while he shook.

Because he woke up.

Her eyes widened once again, glancing at him in shock.

His arm was knitted back together by some sort of thin, clear thread. And he was alive.

He didn’t tell a soul.

It was about two months later when he tried again, a different method this time. He tried pills. So many pills. A lot of pills.

And so, Cypress Evans died for the seemingly second time. And for the seemingly second time, he came back.

He looked away. Tabitha could guess that he thought it was a failure on his part, but she was glad that it hadn’t worked.

And worried for him.

How had she not known? Did she not pay enough attention?

She bit her lip in thought.

He is one of many thousands, neither remarkable nor unique in his background and goals. He has spent the last three of those years acutely aware of his seemingly immortal state of being and in constant dismay over it. The thing was, Cypress never feared death.

He craved it.

And it was being denied from him, one time, then two, then three, then four, then five, and so it goes on. At some point, it became recreational, to not be anything at all. To end, even if temporarily.

Cypress clenched his fist, and Tabitha squeezed his other hand.

Do not worry, Cypress. I’m certain you’re listening to this, though I’m not sure why I’m aware of that face. That thought was not my own, and I’m acutely aware of a spider crawling down my arm, so I can only assume one of the Web’s ilk is involved with this. Never the matter, I wanted to tell you this. No matter how immortal you may think you are, all things end, even if it takes a very, very long time.

You can be reassured that one day, you will die.

Tabitha hated the look of relief that washed over him, but shivered at the thought of being manipulated. The Web, above all others, irked her, ever since her experience with Marcy.

Back to my account.

Cypress, now sixteen years of age, if not for the odd situation regarding class 108, I believe he would’ve found himself within my domain, traveling slowly and unremittingly along the length of the stretching Corpse Routes.

And to his delight, eventually ending.

The earliest he can remember being certain he was about to die was when, at the age of six, due to allergies, he passed out. It was from a spider bite. Not a poisonous one, mind you. It was just his allergies, putting him in the hospital for a few hours.

The oddest thing though, was that he didn’t mind. Cypress had already accepted the inevitability of death, with his father passing away from cancer about two years prior to the bite. He found it reassuring, relaxing even.

The point was, Cypress was comforted by death.

And so it continued for the next three years of his life. He would die on the weekends, crave the release of not existing as a reward for doing so during the week. He always came back, groggily and painfully.

He never liked that part.

Five: Coroner’s concerns.

The matters of concern are as follows:

a) Cypress Evans was affected by the Web at some point during his life. I do not know what the reason for that is, but it’s a concern nonetheless. I do not know why Cypress does not walk the corpse roots, just as I do not know why class 108 seems to have been spared from the domains. I, again, suspect the Web to have something to do with this.

b) This place is a limit on the fear that can be generated from them, as their pool is necessarily finite and ultimately, however slowly, it will be exhausted.

To be offset, this consideration will require the acquisition of victims from other domains as replacements, potentially inciting…bad feeling between those domains.

c) A metaphysical quirk of this new reality’s divorce from the traditional concept of time, and - one for which I have no further explanation, means that I do not believe new humans are being created or born.

The souls trapped within this transformed world are the only ones who will ever be here, and the presence of the Termination of All requires that-ultimately, that is what will happen.

However slowly, the domains of death will be removing sufferers from a closed system. However many thousands of years may be experienced in time, eventually this world will be left barren and empty.

d) When this happens, the Great Powers themselves will also fade and die, withering away into nothingness and releasing this reality from their grip.

I… do not know how I feel about this.

Six: Actions that should be taken.

None. Even if such a fate could be avoided, as it comes closer and the other Entities grow in their awareness of their own end, the grotesque ripples of their own impossible panic shall glut and feed my master, gorging it to the point where-perhaps it will even surpass the Watcher in prominence.

Barring that, I have no desire to be destroyed by other Avatars who are upset at what they regard as “stealing” human souls to walk the Corpse Routes. If it becomes necessary to intervene at some point regarding whatever web the weaver is puppeting, I will do so.

The others may take what actions they wish; they may plot and plan and tear themselves apart in an attempt to separate from the fate that they know they cannot escape, but they will fail. The currents of perception and reality may twist in whatever shapes they want, but none of them can ever render things truly eternal.

And I shall help, ushering on this final, blank emptiness. Perhaps once it might have horrified me, or given me some sense of pursuing the ultimate release of the world that you have damned.

But I am too much of my Patron now, and my feelings cannot help but reflect the shadows of… anticipation that lurk within the grave. The End does not fear its own cessation, for it is the certainty and promise of all life, however strange, that it will one day finish, and that includes its own stark existence.

It shall be the last, and when the universe is silent and still forever, it shall, perhaps, in that impossible moment before it vanishes, finally be satisfied.

Seven: Your response.

Please, Jon, do not interpret this report as a plea for mercy or a call to action. I would have offered it willingly, of course, but to do so is no longer an option.

I only ask that you be wary. I do not know what, but I believe the Web is up to something. Bar that, I believe it to be controlling even you in a world where you wear the crown.

Finally, Cypress, know this. All things end, and every step you take, whatever direction you may choose, only brings you closer to it.

I’m sure that brings you comfort.

Report ends.

Jon looked up, eyes widening as he regained control.

Cypress bolted.

“What the fuck happened?” Riko asked, sitting down across from Tabitha, gesturing to Cypress, who was in a clearing alone. Cal was sitting next to him but they didn’t appear to be talking.

Tabitha shook her head mutely, sighing. “It’s-I’m not going to intrude on his privacy. It was just-it was just intense.” She gestured.

Riko shrugged. “He isn’t dead. It’ll be fine.”

Tabitha knew that Riko was trying to comfort her, but those words made her bark out a bitter laugh.

Riko raised an eyebrow.

Tabitha sighed. “Look, basically the statement Mr. Sims gave was about Cypress, and for some reason Cypress and I couldn’t leave.”

“Wait, like you were tied down?” Riko asked incredulously.

“No, like…ugh. I don’t know how to put it. Yes, like we were tied down, but it was…more than that.”

“Oh, that’s revealing.” Riko said sarcastically.

“Hm.” Tabitha agreed, before looking behind her to see Jon approaching. He walked up the green hill before sighing, and running his hand through his hair.

He does that a lot, Tabitha thought absently.

“May I speak to you in private?” Jon asked Tabitha, who nodded. Riko didn’t budge, and raised an eyebrow.

“I was here first.”

Tabitha snickered. “Fair.”

Jon followed her until they came to a spot next to a tree, leaves waxy and tinted with the green light of the sky.

“So,” Jon awkwardly began, “I think it would be best if you didn’t discuss Cypress’…condition with anyone else. I know you wouldn’t,” he added, “I just wanted to make sure.”

Tabitha nodded. “No, totally, I get it.”

Jon nodded gratefully. “Do you think he’d benefit from talking to Martin or I?”

Tabitha tilted her head in thought. “Not really. He seems like the kind of person to wear his heart on his sleeve, but…I don’t think he likes to be vulnerable with people. Cal seems to have it covered already though.” She pointed across the clearing to where Cal and Cypress were silently sitting side by side against the trunk of a thick hickory tree.

God, she hoped it was a hickory tree. While watching her friends get chased around by a living tree-monster thing was funny, it was also terrifying.

“That checks out. Well, that’s all I wanted to speak with you about.” His eyes seemed to glaze over familiarly, though Tabitha couldn’t quite place where she’d seen that look.

Tabitha nodded warily as he got up and walked towards Martin, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

#tma #the magnus archives #teacher jonathan sims #teacher jon #tma fic #apocalypse field trip #suicide tw #past suicide tw #pills tw

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