***
Chapter 7 : Careful What You Wish For
***

What do you want most? What would you do to have it
granted? Would you kill for it, die for it?

\\What are you gonna wish for, Johnny?\\

Even little children makes wishes, on candles and
shooting stars.

\\I can’t tell you. Then it won’t happen.\\

Everyone has wishes. Everyone has dreams. Everyone
asks for things, no matter the consequences. Sometimes
the best prayers are ones left unanswered.

\\Huff.\\

There is an old saying. One we should heed. Be careful
what you wish for...

\\Puff.\\

...the gods may grant it.

***

"You called us..."

The voice was not the rolling darkness he’d come to
expect. No, instead it came from another who followed
the man into the hall. A woman, beautiful if you
ignored the way she had been scalped, was speaking in
a breathy voice.

Duo backed up, Zechs with him. The corridor they were
on seemed now to stretch into infinity behind the
figures, the familiar metal blending into blocks of
stone.

"Boy, I know you."

There, that was the voice he knew. He pressed himself
into Zechs’ chest as he continued to move farther
away. The black holes in place of eyes sucked at him
again, but this was no dream. It felt too real.

"You sought to know. We are explorers of experience.
We can show you so many things."

"And if I prefer not to?" Duo asked in a shaking
voice.

"It’s too late for that." The demonic priest was a
dark parody of someone he had once held so dear. "But,
I don’t think you do."

The stone was inching forward, turning modern into
antique bit by bit. He had the feeling that he didn’t
want it to reach them.

"Well, changed my mind. Sorry, gotta run."

Though where they could run, he didn’t know. He
practically dragged the other man behind him. There
was a door up ahead. He didn’t think it would stop
them, but giving them time to think would be good.

"Come on!" he yelled breathlessly, panting for air.

Zechs was merely a second behind him as he ran threw
the doorway, slamming it shut and, pulling a stunt
from some old movie he’d seen, breaking the controls.
Hopefully, that would hold them for a while.

He turned to Zechs, hopefully. "Which way?"

"We need to get to the others."

"The control room is closest."

"I know. Let’s go."

***

Wufei tried the communications system one last time in
desperation. There was nothing, it was all dead. There
would be no help from outside, at least not now. Well,
in that case, he’d have to get it from inside. He knew
they had to get out of here, as quickly as possible.
He felt a twinge of fear for the others, especially
Zechs.

**Damn it, why did he have to be with Maxwell now of
all times?** Then his mental voice became quieter,
**Ancestors, keep him safe.**

There was something he could do. Get with Trowa and
Quatre. Together they might stand a better chance. A
chance to get to Zechs and Maxwell and off this ship

He grabbed for his weapons and left at a run. The box
laid where it was, forgotten in his haste.

***

Trowa woke at the first tremor, instantly alert from
years of ingrained instinct. Quatre followed when he
gave him a shake.

"What is it?"

"Something’s wrong."

The ship shook again. Quatre moved from the position
he’d cuddled into and stood up, freeing Trowa who had
been trapped beneath him. They were out the door
almost immediately, they had to reach the others and
find out what was wrong.

**We’re probably under attack from outside.** Still,
that didn’t seem quite right somehow.

The regular lights went dead, emergency power kicking
in so they could continue to make their way as fast as
possible.

The shaking stopped. Trowa turned the corner in a
defensive posture, coming face to face with Wufei.

"What’s going on?" Quatre asked. "Are we under
attack?"

"No, that’s the problem."

***

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," Duo replied to Zechs’ concern. "It’s just that
that is following us."

The other man turned to look where Duo pointed. Duo
had noticed it before as he glanced back for pursuit.
There was pursuit indeed, though not the expected
kind. Instead of inching forward slowly, the stone’s
pace had increased. He had a bad feeling of what would
happen if it caught up to them. The corridor behind
had doorways and turns that did not exist before. It
had turned into a maze. There would be no way out.

"We’ll have to get to the others quickly."

Duo didn’t mention what they would do then. What could
they do then? Maybe they could get to the emergency
shuttle and get the hell out of here.

They began moving again. **Almost there. Almost. Just
a few more minutes.**

Zechs’ long legs left him a few feet ahead of Duo, but
the man made sure he could keep up. For that he was
grateful. He wouldn’t want to lose him too.

He felt it like an electric shock passing through him.

"Zechs!"

The stone rushed past him and the blond turned.
"Duo..."

His face was gone, his voice cut off.

Duo skidded to a halt to avoid a direct collision with
the wall that had appeared in front on him.

"Zechs!"

There was no answer. He kicked the wall in
frustration, then looked around. What had been the
final part of their path to the main control room, was
now a 'T' intersection in a twisted maze. Above, there
was no ceiling. Instead, it was a formless gray.

A dark ray passed overhead and he thought he heard
screams, but then it was gone. He went left.

***

"They'll make for the control room. Did you try to get
help?"

Wufei nodded. "All communications are dead, though
there is no reason for it. I couldn't even get through
to Zechs and Maxwell. Something has jammed all the
systems. The engines are stuck on autopilot even when
I tried to shut them down. At least we still have life
support."

The three were on their way back where Wufei had come
him in the lead, followed by Quatre with Trowa
bringing up the rear. Their pace was quick, but they
kept a sharp look out around corners. It wasn't that
far, for exactly this reason. In an emergency they
wanted to be able to get together quickly.

The ship had ceased its shuddering except for the
occasional movement.

Wufei paused, weapon extended and moved around the
corner. It was empty, but something was very wrong. It
ended in a wall. There were no doors.

He jerked his head around. "We did go the right way,
didn't we?"

Trowa and Quatre nodded. The blond looked at him
quizzically. 

"What is it?" They looked around the corner as well.

"Wufei, that wall isn't metal."

He looked again. Quatre was right, it was blocks of
stone. He walked up to it. The metallic walls melded
with the dull gray of the material that shouldn't be
there. Feeling with his fingers around the edges he
came to one inescapable conclusion. There were no gaps
or openings. He pushed against it. It was as solid as
it looked. They couldn't get through.

"There has to be another way around it, we just have
to find it." He turned back to face them and his eyes
narrowed. There was something...

"Behind you."

Now they all faced the direction he was watching.
Something was moving. Coming their way.

Like a shift in color, a faint blurring behind which
all was unclear. It was not a thing, but a presence.

Fast, almost there, and there was no where to run, no
where to go.

He stepped backwards. He could see it now, it was the
change from the silver gray to dull rock, ceiling to
formless unchanging sky. It was the thing that had
blocked their way and trapped them here.

It reached them.

Nothing, just a shiver, a faint absence of vision and
it was done. Quatre gasped behind him. Trowa said
nothing.

There was a shift above them. A wave of blackness, and
it chilled his blood.

Quatre moaned this time and Wufei turned. He was
clutching at his heart and his head. Trowa reached for
him as he stumbled backwards into the wall, falling
into it.

Falling through it.

"Quatre." Trowa reached the wall, hitting it but came
away with nothing but bleeding knuckles. It was as
solid as Wufei had found it.

"Quatre!"

He was gone.

***

Duo, he was gone. Zechs pressed his hand again to the
cold stone. 

"Pretty, so very pretty. Like an angel."

He whipped around at the voice, leaving the wall
behind him. It sounded like a woman, but there was no
one there for him to see. At least, not yet.

"I was pretty like you once. They called me an angel
too. Fools."

Muscles tensing, looking for where the voice had come
from. The echoes in the corridor made it difficult.
The adrenaline pumping through him made it difficult
to stay unmoving to identify the threat, but years of
training kicked in.

Which door? Which door?

The one two up on the right. No, it was too far away.
Closer, closer than that.

A faint movement, like smoke on glass. There, he saw
her. Or rather, what was left of her.

He gritted his teeth. She was the woman from before, a
beautiful walking corpse. She smiled at him. Her eyes
were black.

He pulled out his gun, thankfully he was still armed.
Years of habit had ingrained it in him, even when it
no longer seemed necessary.

"What are you going to do, angel? Shoot an unarmed
woman?"

**Yes.** He doubted she was unarmed and, even then, to
help Duo, to help Wufei, to help all of them he would
do it, if only to get back to them faster. There was a
time and place for honor. This was not one of those
times.

He fired.

She ghosted sideways, struck only in the shoulder, not
the heart as he had intended. She didn't even seem to
notice. Then she bared her teeth in what could have
been a smile.

She laughed then and the gun flew out of his hand,
ripped away by something he couldn't see as she walked
up to him. His eyes searched for the weapon, but then
she was there, in front of him, between them, pressing
one hand onto his chest, pushing him back.

"What's your name, angel?"

He was right, she was armed after a fashion. One
clawed hand scratched open his shirt while cutting the
flesh beneath.

"They call me Angelique."

She pushed him back with that one hand, something she
shouldn't have been able to do. Zechs knew he was in
trouble. Too strong, too fast, too inhumane. But he
hadn't been considered the best in the Specials for
nothing.

"I asked you a question. Aren't you going to answer
me?"

"No."

Pushing himself like he hadn't had to in a long time,
he *moved*. One hand snapped up, pushing her away.
Angelique tried to grab him with her other hand, but
he was faster. He caught the wrist, twisting back and
kicking out with his left foot, the wall stopping him
from falling with her. Then he dove for the gun.

She was on her feet in an instant. He rolled over, one
hand grabbing the gun as he righted himself so he lay
face up. She was moving, he fired, and she kept
coming.

On him, claws tearing, above him. His heart pounded.
They rolled as she reached for his throat. He was on
his back again, under her. Shifting sideways as she
tried to cut his throat and missed, hissing like a
cat. He grabbed the wires holding her scalp down,
pulling them even as the hooks left flesh and entered
his palm. His other hand, the one with the gun came
up. He hooked his leg around her and rolled again.
Pushed the gun into the hollow under her chin. Fired.
Again, and again.

Her head exploded, coating him in brain and blue
fluid. It dribbled into his mouth as he panted for
breath, the rush gone.

Drip. The liquid oozed onto the ground.

He stood up and wiped his face, spitting onto the
ground. The fluid stung in his cuts now he was calmer.
He tucked his gun back. He still had a few bullets
left and hoped it would be enough. He had to find the
others.

***

It watched and made no move to intervene. She had
decided what she wanted to do. He had become tired of
her anyway, he supposed, not caring one way or
another.

"Well, Princess, it looks as if you made another
mistake."

It had been so long since they had been summoned from
the box, since the Toy Maker had tried to destroy him.
But he could not be killed so easily. Neither could
she, truly, and he knew she would return though her
form may have changed once again. She had not always
been the woman the blond man had struck down. No, she
had been summoned into that body by a master of the
black arts.

Toy Maker. It was one of the few things that made him
angry, that brought emotion to his face, emotions
other than those he used in his torments. But the
descendent did not know who he was. And he was theirs
already. Once he had said fear was more effective than
seduction, but sometimes, sometimes this was not the
case. And sometimes, using both could get you exactly
what you wanted.

The man who had once been called Elliot, left the
blond man to his fate. He had someone else to attend
to.

***

"I've got an idea. Boost me up."

Trowa nodded, this way they could get over the wall,
if Wufei could manage to reach. Trowa's heavier weight
would make it difficult for him to do, in spite of his
acrobatics. He twined his fingers together and let
Wufei take a running leap.

Wufei reached his hand, he heaved upwards. The Chinese
man grabbed for the top of the wall, using the
momentum to help him over.

He reached it. Trowa's heart was in his throat, though
his face was impassive. He watched as Wufei pulled
himself upwards, hooking his leg over the wall and
managing not to fall, something that was remarkable in
itself.

Wufei stood above him, looking around and over.

"He's not there."

Oh god no.

Wufei looked up and away from him. "Ancestors, what is
this thing?"

**I can't see it,** he thought. As if reading his
mind, Wufei looked down again and reached with his
hand.

"I'll try and pull you up. Can you reach?"

He judged for a moment. "If I jump. Do you have a good
grip?"

Wufei nodded. Trowa also took a running start,
propelling himself upwards and gripping the offered
hand. Wufei 'umped', but managed to pull him upwards
so he could grip the top of the stones with his free
hand and help himself over.

Trowa stood up and looked around. He now understood
Wufei's exclamation. It was giant maze, stretching as
far as he could see, but all going towards one point.
And there was something else, the puzzle he had found,
enormous in size spun at its center. To his side, was
a vast pit of a room and he could make out levels upon
levels of the labyrinth before it faded into darkness
below.

Another wave of blackness came from it, strands of
dark passing by there heads. Strangely, he thought he
could hear it screaming. Just like his heart.

***

Duo knew someone was there, knew he was being watched.
He pretended ignorance, let the other come to him. Duo
would be ready for him.

He entered the room cautiously. There, he would wait
there. He turned and faced the door. Soon, the itch at
the back of his neck said. He didn't notice he was
smiling.

***

It was dark. Quatre blinked, pulling his legs in from
where they sprawled on the cold floor. He felt around
with his hands, trying to find where he had been a
moment before.

"Trowa?"

For a moment his call went unanswered. Then there was
a shuffling noise in front of him.

"Quatre..." The voice was raspy, like a death rattle.

Quatre bit his lip, trying to reach out with all his
senses to make up for his lack of sight. That voice
hadn't been Trowa's. He had to be prepared to fight.

"Quatre... darling... Is that you?"

He tensed, rolling onto his feet but staying close to
the floor.

"I've been waiting so long..."

There, the shuffling noise again, as if whoever it was
dragged its feet towards him. Maybe ten feet away,
slightly towards the right. If he could just feel...

Despair. Pain. Desire. Cold, he was so cold he burned.
He grabbed for his heart unconsciously, it felt tight
in his chest. He fell forward and moaned slightly,
biting back to stop the noise from reaching whoever
was there.

"Are you alright... Quatre... ?"

Shuffle.

"Mommy's here..."

Shuffle.

"Mommy's here to help you..."

It came right towards him, it knew where he was.

**No! No! Get it away!** He struggled to control his
breathing, gritting his teeth and stood to his feet.
There was no point in hiding.

"You're not my mother. My mother is dead."

There was a sob, one not torn from his own lips at his
denial. "You don't believe me... I've waited so long
to see you..."

Shuffle.

"I'll show you..."

At first he thought that his eyes were playing tricks
on him to try to remove the consistent blackness. A
faint red appeared, spreading wider like a pool of
liquid. It did not glow so much as contrast. Then, he
saw her.

She was dressed in a muted green hospital gown, blond
hair plastered to her head with sweat. Her face was
pale, emaciated even, bones under a film of skin. But
it was recognizable. His father had always carried a
picture of her with him.

The red reached his feet, flowing about his shoes like
molasses, slow and thick.

"Come to mommy..."

She held her arms wide. His chest still hurt.

"I want to look at my son... Have you been a good
boy... Made me proud..."

He stood still, staring. His cheeks were wet. Quatre
wondered when he'd started crying. He had always
wanted to meet his mother, always wanted to make her
proud wherever she was.

"Mother."

"No, you haven't been a good boy..."

He saw where the red was coming from now. Drip. Drip.
He tried not to look at the growing red stain near her
crotch, as the green became so much darker.

"You've killed me... Killed your own mother..."

Shuffle.

"How could you?"

Her face contorted into something foul. Something he
could not describe, save for the fact it now looked
more like a skull than a living woman.

"I... I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

Shuffle.

"Murderer. You've killed me. Killed your own mother.
You're not sorry." Instead of the barely audible
rattle, she screeched at him, piercing his ears. He
took a step back, but she moved forward, hands now
curved like claws, slashing at him.

"You're no son of mine."

"Killer."

"Monster."

"Where were you when your father needed you?"

"Wasn't enough to kill me? Had to let him die too?"

One swipe reached for his cheek and he pulled himself
backwards. Unbalanced, he fell backwards onto the
floor. He felt the cold stone. It took a second to
realize, but he felt the cold *dry* stone.

"This isn't real. You're not my mother."

Quatre scrambled up. "You're not my mother. She would
never do this. You aren't real."

It had been keeping him here. Distracting him from
where he should be. **Trowa.** He needed to get to
Trowa.

"Trowa," he yelled.

The thing launched itself at him again.

"Trowa!"

***

Trowa's head jerked upwards. There was something,
something out there.

"Did you hear that?" he asked Wufei.

The other shook his head. "No. What was it?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe we should go this way, then. We don't want to
run into one of those things." Wufei's tone showed his
distaste of the last word.

Trowa nodded, his expression dead.

"Don't worry, we'll find him."

He could only hope so.

***

"Duo..."

He cocked his gun with a click that echoed off the
stone walls. Duo trained it on the man who walked
through the door, aiming for his head. He backed up,
brushing through the forest of chains. Their touch was
a cold and rough caress, tangling in his hair and
ripping it out of his braid.

There was a smile at the sight of the firearm. He got
a bad feeling that it might not be very effective, but
it was all he had.

"You won't shoot me."

"And why the hell not?"

"Because I have things you want," was the calm reply.

"I don't think so."

He didn't know why he didn't shoot, except maybe the
fear that his gut was right. Instead, he sidestepped,
trying to get closer to the door and away from the
corner he was trapped in.

"But I do."

The demon came closer. Duo's finger tightened on the
trigger, but did not fire. He backed up another step.

"I know exactly what you want most."

It was a large claim, since Duo himself wasn't
entirely sure what he wanted. No doubt the thing was
just messing with his head. Just like all those
dreams.

"Think of me as your personal genie. I can grant your
dearest wish."

"Oh yeah, only in exchange for my soul, right?" Wasn't
that how all these types of deals worked?

"Is it so precious to you? I have no need for souls.
Here there is only flesh."

"This is where you belong, Shinigami."

Duo swallowed and narrowed his eyes. How could he know
about that?

As if reading his thoughts, the words continued. "So
many here thanks to you. So many lives cut short. So
much guilt... But is it guilt for the lives lost, or
because you enjoyed it so much? That power to chose
life and death."

"You hunger for it. No one knows how much you missed
it, except me. You could have all of it again, without
the guilt, without the secrecy. I've seen your face
reflected in the eyes of those who've come here even
now. There would be nothing to stop you, nothing to
hold you back."

"Vengeance can taste so sweet."

Duo was shivering. Suddenly the room seemed icy cold.
He couldn't want that, he'd left that feeling behind
with the war, mostly, of being almost God. That was
not what he did. No, not that. It wasn't the same
thing at all. Justice was what it was. That's all.
Just justice. It was walking closer.

"But that is just part of what you want, Duo, isn't
it?"

One step, then another, still confidant as ever.
Closer, closer... He had to get rid of it, make it
stop talking, make it do what he wanted... Duo's
finger squeezed.

With perfect timing, as if this was some sort of
elaborate dance, the pinned man stepped aside, the
bullet missing his head by inches. It zoomed past one
white ear, clanging into a chain across the room. The
chain fell to the floor with a clatter.

"Oh, I see I am right."

"Stop right there. I won't miss next time."

The figure stood still, stopping a maybe five feet in
front of him. His statement was true, at this range,
Duo wouldn't miss no matter what tricks he tried to
pull.

"I'm sure you won't. It's what you do best, isn't it?
What you love. That control. Especially over those who
are dangerous themselves."

"That's what I can give you. All you have to do is say
yes. And yet you hesitate? What else could you want?
Ah, I know."

The voice changed. No longer the seductive smooth
liquid honey, but one nearer to his heart.

"You want to see me again, don't you Duo?" Father
Maxwell's voice was so inappropriate coming from that
throat. "Well, you can't. You're destined for hell
anyway."

"You know its true."

And it was. Heaven wasn't for people like him. That's
what he'd been taught. Not for killers. Not when they
wished for the war to come back so they could do what
they liked for a cause. Not when they were Shinigami.

"And if it is?" Duo asked. "What difference does it
make?" He still had plenty of years left. At least he
could enjoy them.

"A very large one. The question is not if you should
come here, but whether you are master or servant."

"If you choose the one, what do you have? You can
leave here and return to what? A pitiful existence,
life unfulfilled. All by yourself, alone. And an
eternity to follow."

"Hilde... that bitch will never be what you want. She
makes a good cover, but that's all she'll ever be."

"Who else is there? Such a pitiful little list."

"Solo, Father Maxwell, Sister Helen... but you'll
never see any of them again. And, really, they aren't
what you want anyway. Could you share with them? Could
they feel what you feel?"

"Trowa... Quatre... They have each other. They'll
never want you."

"Wufei... That one is too honorable and righteous.
He'd kill you first. He probably suspects already."

"And then there's Heero."

Duo glared, his lips curving into a snarl at the
mention of the name.

"You really thought you could share with him. That he
was like you. But he wasn't, was he? No, not like you
at all. That was the war and the training. He never
even really knew you and now he's gone. And he's not
coming back."

"But you've found someone else..."

And suddenly, no one was there in front of him. The
space was empty. A presence behind him. He turned, but
was stopped by the feel of breath against his neck.

"You found me." Zechs' voice, a low sexy purr that
he'd wanted to hear for too long, whispered close to
his ear. 

"And I could be what you want. With. Just. A. Little.
Push. I could be just like you."

Maybe, maybe it was true. He wanted, wanted to see
those blue eyes glaze over with lust and desire.
Wanted to see the angel stained with blood. He wanted
to be the one to drive Zechs over the edge again, to
be there with him when he fell. But it could never
happen. No, it couldn't, not like he wanted.

"But it could. Here."

"So, Duo, what do you wish for?"

TBC...

NOTES

Elliot Spencer was Pinhead's mortal incarnation, a WWI
officer when he solved the box. This can be seen in
the second movie and allows Kirsty to make the
cenobites remember human identities they had
forgotten.

The Toy Maker refered to is Merchant from the 4th
movie.

The black waves is occasionally seen in the 2nd movie.

"Occasionally, flashes of black light -- the
manifestation of those tortured souls -- may burst out
of Leviathan, washing over any individuals wandering
through hell.  The flip-side of the light of God, this
black light reveals pain and guilt and sorrow --
emotions and memories which Leviathan enjoys using to
manipulate its prey." -- Concepts & Guidelines for a
Horror Anthology Series

Given Quatre's abilities, I thought it would be even
worse for him to experience than the others.

If you want to know what Trowa saw when he looked
at the maze, go here...
http://www.cenobite.com/pix/hr2-labyrinth01.jpg
http://www.cenobite.com/pix/hr2-labyrinth02.jpg