Indigo: Abraham, Emotion Vol. 2: Murderer, Chapter Seven: "Murderers (SecondThoughts)

 

Chapter Seven: Murderers (SecondThoughts)

 

            The sky was the color of aged steel and cast everything under it in a harsh, dull light. It paled the dirty spires of the cathedral below, as well as the broken archways.  It made the gargoyles that lined the entryway seem alive, their fractured bodies seeming to be mended by the light, their dark eyes made into sunken holes.  The canyon around the cathedral was foggy and empty.  The air was wet.

            Crest stood on the bridge, staring first at the cathedral and then down into the foggy canyon abyss.  He stood still with Carolyne slumbering soundly on the bridge beside him, and he sneered.  With a single movement he could kill her, toss her over the edge and forget her, but that was no way to treat a toy when it could still be played with.

            So, he stood and waited, and when she finally woke it was in a fiery rage.  She leapt up, Voice forming in her hand, and nearly jammed the razor tip of the rapier through his throat.  Her eyes were untamed fire, but her heart wasn’t.  No matter how hard she tried, she just wasn’t a killer.

            He regarded her calmly, even with the tip of her blade pricking his throat. He just stared at her, into her, and stayed that way until she relented.  Her Voice faded in a flash the steely light and she stepped away, placing a hand on the bridge’s guard rail before she stared out into the canyon below.

            “What the hell happened there?”

            Crest turned, too, and stared into the canyon alongside her.  “You went to kill the blonde, and you failed.”  He looked back at her, now wearing a wry grin.  “You had the perfect chance, but you choked.  No backbone.  None at all.”

            She frowned and she scoffed, and she didn’t say anything at all.  She just gripped the guard rail so hard it hurt.

            “What were you even doing there, little girl?”

            She glared at him, and he kept her gaze.  His calm only made her angrier, but she didn’t have a response.  She didn’t have the power she wanted, and she certainly couldn’t take her first kill from him.  Not without dying in the act, at least.  “I was taking the initiative.  Those two are nothing but trouble, and we just let them roam around, doing as they like...”

            “But those were not your orders.”  Crest turned and nodded toward the Cathedral.  “You were supposed to be guarding the Covenant.  That is your only task.”

            “The best way to guard something is to remove the threat to it entirely.  I was being proactive.”

            He grinned.  In ways, she reminded him of himself, the way she lied to herself, hid her own motivations to keep herself sane, or at least an approximation of.  She was angry, and that made her violent, and she couldn’t accept it.  Abel wouldn’t care either way, though.  Crest, however, could use her.

            “Perhaps, but those were not your orders.”  He kept his tone measured.  She could be a murderer, but she would have to pushed there slowly.  “The master doesn’t want to kill anyone he doesn’t have to.  It is simple as that.”

            “Then he is wrong,” Carolyne said, and she went quiet after.  Crest gave her a look of precise surprise and suspicion.

            “Would you care to elaborate?”

            Carolyne hesitated, and she felt at the guard rail, picking away imaginary paint chips.  Her skin had paled a bit, and she certainly looked to him like she was anxious, the way her eyes darted, the way her weight shifted.  When she spoke, she made an honest effort to hide her fear.  “He’s too soft, too weak to kill.  Or, his resolve is.”

            Crest smiled.  She truly was ignorant, but that would make her even more useful to him.  “Carolyne,” he said, turning toward the canyon and staring into the empty horizon, “I assure you, the only thing greater than our master’s strength is his resolve.  That he sees no reason to spill blood unless it will help us toward our goal is proof not of weakness, but of absolute power.  Now, don’t misunderstand, he doesn’t care about those two fools, nor would he be hurt to see them go.  The problem isn’t that you attacked them, but that you left your post to do so.”  He looked at her again and found her gaze fixed firmly on the fog.  She couldn’t even bring herself to meet his eyes.  Shame.  It was exactly what he wanted.  “You cannot be so reckless,” he said, “especially if you cannot commit yourself to your own recklessness.”

            He paused to hear her response, and when she had none, turned away.  The shadows around him coalesced, pooling around his feet.  “Perhaps, you should worry more about your own resolve rather than the master’s.”  He said it quickly and dropped into the shadows, disappearing from view.  Soon, the shadows were gone, too.

            Carolyne remained, alone on the bridge, hands tight on the guard rail, glowering at the landscape below.  She felt angry, angry with him, angry with Abel, and with Alex, and with Ellen, and with herself.  She was a murderer, she just had to prove it.

            She turned sharply and stuffed her hands into her pockets, and she stomped away, shoulders slouched, back toward the cathedral.

 

: Murderer :

 

            Deidra waited inside of the cathedral, at the top of the stairs.  She stood alone on the platform, near the edge, looking out at the pews and the stained glass above.  Four torches burned around the gemstone in the center, the Covenant, where the girl slept. 

            She turned to the Covenant and stared inside.  The girl was small, so much smaller than she had thought.  Her raven hair was fanned out around her body.  She was curled up, fetal, hugging her knees to her chest.  It was hard for Deidra to understand, but this little girl alone held the fate of the world inside of her, or at least according to Abel she did.

            Footsteps echoed, leading the way up the stairs.  Abel entered, taller than she remembered.  He regarded her impassively and from the look in his eyes, she could tell he was close.  He was almost empty, but the sight of her aroused something.  It was brief, just the merest flicker, but it showed that more time would be needed.  His voice shook her as he spoke.  “Deidra,” he said, stopping beside the Covenant and staring into its core.  Another emotion, hunger or greed, in his eyes, another thing to be purged.  “She is beautiful, isn’t she?  And almost human, to the untrained eye.”

            Deidra crossed her arms and stepped back, leaning into the guard rail.  She watched him watch the Covenant, and she betrayed nothing.  They fell into a lengthy silence, just staring, and finally she spoke.  “Why did you summon me, Abel?”

            “You know why.”  He didn’t look up, didn’t even accuse her.  He didn’t have to.

            She shrugged and stared.  He met her gaze with blank eyes, and she met him with equal apathy.  “Pretend I don’t.”

            He held her gaze, his expression colder than the harshest winter.  It was too much, even for her, but she managed to stay through to the end.  When he looked away, she felt a great relief.  Sometimes, when speaking to him, it was difficult to remember that there was ever anything human inside of him.

            “You went to see him.”

            “I did.”

            “You let them escape.”

            “It was a mistake, and I won’t let it happen again.  So, if that is all.”  She lifted her dress to just above her ankles and moved briskly past him.  He caught her by the arm in a grip tight enough to cause her pain and held her there.

            “Deidra, I need you to be honest.  Are you having second thoughts? I have to know.”  He tone was even, clinical.  His eyes lingered on hers for a moment too long.  She remembered when they were younger, in the rain, how much passion he had, how much vigor, and she wondered how much of that was smoked out of him by the flames.  “I must be sure where your loyalties lie,” he said.  “You know my plan well, better than any of them, so I just need to know that I can trust you.”

            She swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled her arm free from his grasp.  “Whether I am having second thoughts or not is none of your business, nor does it matter.  Fate will take whatever path it wills.”  Her arm still ached where he held her.  She can feel the flesh swelling under her sleeve.  “Whatever will be will be, Abel, whether I do or don’t.  But still, it was a mistake.  That much I can admit to you.”

            He remained quiet and still, so much so that she thought he may not of heard her.  After a few seconds she just left, going toward the stairs, her boots clicking against stone platform.  She found Cornelius waiting at the base of the stairs, his armor still dirty from their time in the desert, his sword resting, blade down, in front of him.  He hefted it up when she approached and bowed his head low.

            They went together toward the door and met Carla on the way.  She was seated in one of the pews but rose at their approach and smiled as they passed.  Carla held the handrail and took the stairs up, and she joined Abel on the platform, watching Deidra and Cornelius’ exit.

            “Master.”

            “I apologize,” he said, turning to her.  “I know you have much work to do, but I wanted to speak with them privately.”

            “It’s fine.”  She gave him a smile.  He gave her nothing in return.

            “Continue the incubation,” he said, and he glanced toward the doors, spying Deidra’s back just before they closed.  “I must go to purify myself.”

            He left her there, alone with the Covenant.  She watched him disappear down the stairs and then went to the center of the platform.  Sitting between two torches, she folded her legs and put her hands together, linking her fingers and feeling the energy inside of her.  A quick breath, and then she reached forward, placing her hand flat against the Covenant and feeling the energies inside of it.

            Slowly, quietly, she began to whisper.

 

: Murderer :

 

            While Deidra and Abel were inside speaking, Carla was outside on the bridge.  She sat to one side of the bridge, braced against the guard rail and staring up at the sky.  Once, she remembered, the area had been cast in golden light, but that was long ago, before Deidra, before Abel.

            Carolyne approached her, slouched and shuffling, and Carla stood to meet her.  They didn’t know each other well, but Carla knew just the way to change that.  She met her with an open smile and an open hand.  She was someone who carried herself with an openness and warmth that few people had and many would envy.  “Hi, there.  You’re new, right?  I’m Carla.”

            Carolyne stopped and regarded her quietly.  She nodded toward her but didn’t take her hand.  “Carolyne,” she said.

            Carla withdrew her hand and rubbed the back of her head.  They stood together, in the shadow the cathedral cast.  “You’re here protecting the cathedral, right?  Protecting me?”

            “Sure.”

            Carla smiled.  “Thank you for that.”  Carolyne shrugged.  “Carolyne, is something wrong?”

            Carolyne paused, frowned.  “No.”

            “Clearly, something is.”  Carla looked her in the eyes, touched her shoulder lightly.  “Come on, you can talk to me.  You can tell me anything.  I promise.  Trust me.”

            For a moment Carla thought it had failed, that the words had no power over the other woman, but Carolyne’s expression softened, and though she pulled herself from Carla’s touch, she stayed closeby, leaning against the guard rail and staring up at the sky.  After a long breath, she finally said, “I’m afraid to kill.”

            Carla leaned into the bridge beside her.  She crossed her thick arms over her chest and nodded thoughtfully.  “Well, of course you are.  Anyone who isn’t afraid to take a life isn’t alive themselves.  What you’re feeling is perfectly natural.”

            “But I want it.  I want to kill.”  Carolyne sagged.  She fiddled with her hands, keeping her fingers busy.  “I am better than this, you know.  I don’t have time to worry about their lives, and they’re not worth it.”

            Carla leaned back and stared up at the sky.  She wondered if it had really ever been that golden color she remembered or if that was all a dream.  It was difficult to tell dreams from reality there in the Emotion, and for someone like her, who had been there so long, it was nearly impossible.

            “Murder isn’t so simple.  It isn’t about who is better or worse, or even about who deserves to live or die.  It’s about dreams and time.  To take a life is to take another person’s future away from them, all of their dreams, all of their time.  That’s why it is a sin, and the very act of it, even in self-defense, will leave you scarred forever in your soul.”

            Carolyne frowned again, this time more deeply than before.  Her hands found their ways to her pockets, and she looked at Carla.  Carla met her gaze.  “If you believe that, then why are you helping him, when you know he will kill and has killed before?”

            Carla smiled, the same open, warm smile.  “Because Abel is planning to fix a world that has long been broken.  Once he is pure, and he ascends, he will pull us all up with him.  And it will hurt some.  It may even kill them.  But in the end, we’ll all be better for it.  Does that make sense to you?”

            “Not really, but...”  Carolyne held out her hand and let Carla shake it.  “Thanks.  And it’s nice to meet you.”

            “Likewise.”  Carla stood from the guard rail and went to the door.  She pushed the doors open and stood in the threshold, stopping long enough to look Carolyne in the eyes. Where Carolyne’s eyes were reminiscent of spring, Carla’s muddy brown eyes seemed more at home in autumn. “Feel free to talk to me anytime.”

            Carolyne put her hands back in her pockets.  “Sure,” she said, but even then, Carla knew she never would.

 

: Murderer :

 

            Carolyne sat alone for a while after that to gather her thoughts.  She sat on the bridge’s railing, staring out into the misty depths of the canyon.  Sometimes, she thought she could see the very bottom, but in truth it was all just a great shadow.  Even if she could see it, she would never know.

            Deidra left with Cornelius in tow, and that is when Carolyne took the chance to enter the cathedral.  She didn’t like it there.  The air outside felt oppressive, but the air inside was otherworldly.  Rows of pews lined the first floor, leading up to a raised platform with a wooden pedestal at its center.  Four marble columns held the second floor aloft, and a ghostly red glow could be seen from above

            Sitting in the center, staring at the podium, was Goliath.  He had his hands folded and head down in prayer.  Carolyne approached him and stopped at the end of his pew, staring at him and wondering how he managed to fit.  Being as big as he was, he seemed entirely too large for the seat itself.

            “May I help you?”  He asked without opening his eyes, and Carolyne stayed quiet until he looked at her.  Then she crossed her arms and sat at the far end of the pew, legs folded, and she stared back.  He cocked an eyebrow at her.  “Yes?”

            “You were the one sent to kill Alex.”

            “Yes.”

            “But you didn’t.”

            “No.”

            “Why?”

            “She was weak and hardly worth it.  There is nothing to be gained from slaughtering the weak and the innocent.”
            “Then why do it now?  Why follow Abel at all?”

            He stared at her for a few moments longer and then bowed his head.  Finishing his prayer, a few silent whispers meant only for him, and he rose.  His body was a pillar of muscle, carved straight from marble and gleaming with perspiration.  “I dueled him once, long ago, when I first arrived here.  He defeated me, quickly, and proved his will was stronger than mine.”  Goliath looked at her.  “He is stronger than me.  So, he leads me.  Do you understand?”

            “I guess.”  Carolyne swayed her foot.  “And you...”  She paused.  “When you see her again, what will you do?”

            He took a great breath.  From where she sat, he seemed so tall that he scrapped the sky.  “I will let her decide how we proceed and react accordingly.  Nothing more and nothing less.”

            “You’ll kill her?”

            “Those were my orders.”  They locked eyes for only a moment, and Carolyne saw him for what he was.  Everyone who came to the Emotion lost something, and in that loss, they became something else, and she saw Goliath for what he became.  He was big and strong, and that is how he defined himself.

            He sidled out of the pew and turned his back on her, taking the long walk with his head high shoulders set.  He left the Cathedral, and he left her alone, shaking her foot in the silence and sorting her thoughts.

            She wanted to kill, had to kill to prove that she could, that she was above them, better than, ascended, but something held her back.  Ellen looked so weak, so frail, so pathetic, and though it turned Carolyne’s stomach, it also weakened her resolved.  However bad she wanted it, in that moment at least, Carolyne just couldn’t shake her second thoughts.