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.

Indigo: Abraham, Emotion Vol. 2: Murderer, Chapter Six: "The Judge; Atlantis"

 

Volume Two: Murderer

 

Penetrating, like a needle, like a knife, like a lover.

Deeper, like a murderer, like a maniac, like a man.

Burning, like fire, like ice, like touch.

Yes, love is a poison.

 

Chapter Six: The Judge; Atlantis

 

            Crest stood in the shadows and surveyed the long, winding stairs that led up.  A platform above obscured the light and hid him in shadows.  It was held aloft by a thick, black pole, polished to reflection and crisscrossed with small, silver veins.  Above, his master waited, ready to pass his judgement.

            A woman came, square-shouldered, with pale skin and dark hair.  She descended with a friendly smile that turned his stomach, and moved with an easy slouch.  Her name was Carla, and she the type who always seemed at ease.  By her nature she was kind and gentle, always open, always forgiving.  She was the best things that people had in them, and Crest hated her for it.

            When she saw him, her smile faded.  It always faded in his presence.  She met his eyes with sympathy, as if she could understand him and his suffering.  He only looked away.  She stopped beside him, her hand on the railing.  “The master is waiting for you.”

            He nodded and brushed past her without a word.

            The act of killing a comrade was strictly forbidden.  Those under Abel’s command were assembled to work toward one purpose.  They all swore fealty to him and so were protected by him until the completion of his goals.  Crest’s actions would be not be easily forgiven, no matter his reason.

            Yet, he felt no remorse.  He was not Carla, nor was he Abel, and these men and women were not his allies.  They were tools to be used and discarded.  Samantha had lost her edge and grown ineffective.  She was broken and so had to be disposed of.  That he would be put on trial for doing something so simple hadn’t crossed his mind.  It was logical, but Abel, Crest was sure, wouldn’t see the logic in it.

            Halfway up the stairs the red glow of the gemstone showed in the darkness, and as he went higher it grew more intense.  At the top he could see the gemstone shimmering, a dark shadow in its center.  The shadow was a child, her flesh pale as clouds and hair dark as the ocean depths.  He stopped beside the gemstone, between two of the four torches lit around it.

            Abel stood at the edge of the platform, looking out on the pews arranged on the first floor.  He had his back turned to Crest, his long, dark hair tied back out of his face, wearing a cloak that was white as snow.  The two looked just alike, save for their coloration.  Crest was a dark mirror of Abel, of his master, with the same big bodies, the same high cheeks, the same thin eyes, the same long hair.  The difference was that where Abel was heaven, Crest was hell.

            They stood in silence.  Even without looking, Abel filled the room, and staring at his back, Crest felt a longing.  The shadows were restless around him.  “You called for me,” Crest said.

            Abel turned, face empty, emotionless.  He moved slowly, as if in a dream, and he gave a slight nod.

            “I know why I’m here,” Crest said.  “I killed her.  That damned woman.  Samantha.”  His lips curled as he said her name.  “You must consider that an unforgivable sin, but I had my reasons.  And it had be done.  I assure you.”

            Abel didn’t speak.  He didn’t need to.  His empty yes said it all.  He saw through Crest, saw through his fear, saw through his lies, and he didn’t care.  Unless Crest would find something true, unless he could find something to hold onto, he would die next.

            “She tried to kill me,” Crest said quickly.  “To place my soul under her command.  It was self-defense. And she wouldn’t have stopped with me.  She would have done it to anyone of us if it suited her.  I’m sure.”

            Abel raised his hand, and Crest fell silent as he stepped forward, toward the gemstone, and stared into it.  The light touching Abel now, painted him red.  There was nothing to him to cast the light back, nothing that could reject it.  He was completely empty, completely open, clean and entirely pure.  He was something so perfect that Crest would never truly understand.

            Finally, Abel spoke, and when he did, it shook Crest to the core.  “Very well.  You are forgiven, but I will keep watch.”  He looked up and met Crest’s eyes.  The shadows scattered.  “I cannot have traitors among us, not at this crucial time.”  He nodded toward the stairs.  “Go.  And send Goliath up.”

            Crest swallowed.  “Yes,” he said, and he bowed before leaving.

 

: Murderer :

 

            The village is large and old and scattered among the hills.  Stones rose, moss-covered, from the earth, fractured walls half-crumbled, broken fountains long forgotten, stone-laid streets overgrown with weeds.  They passed through the empty streets, peeking in at dusty interiors, white stone bleached by the sun.

            Isaac led the way, keeping a few feet between them and ever alert.  He didn’t speak much since their arrival, and Ellen didn’t try too hard to pry him from his thoughts.  At the very least he seemed focus, and after their last encounter, Ellen figured it was safer to speak when spoken to for the time.  Still, she couldn’t suppress her awe for long.

            “Wow.”  She muttered the word as she stared, starry-eyed, into the ruins around her.  Isaac came to a stop in front of her, and she nearly ran into his back.  She stood beside him, goggling at the village around her.  She nudged him gently in the arm.  “Look at this, will you?  I’ve never seen anything like it.”

            Isaac grunted to start and then turned his eyes on their surroundings.  His expression softened.  “Yeah, you’re right.  It’s impressive alright.”  He started ahead again, and Ellen had to jog briefly to catch up.

            “I don’t understand, though.”  They crested another hill and stared ahead at the ruins before them.  It looked like the buildings were tightly clustered ahead, as if it were some form of town square.  “Every time the landscape changes we’re taken somewhere different.  The first place didn’t have any sort of man-made anything.  The next one was all polluted.  And this place is, well,” she turned back to stare at the entrance, where a broken sign stood.  “It looks like it used to be a city.”  She looked Isaac in the eyes.  “Where are we?”

            Isaac rubbed his chin and sighed.  He turned back and regarded the broken fountain thoughtfully.  “Perhaps,” his lips tightened, and he sighed again, “Maybe the Emotion is like the human soul?”  He looked at her now.  “It reflects the life of the planet, including the influences humanity has had on it?  So, all the good and the bad, everything we’ve done, everything its felt, reflected wherever we go?”

            Ellen looked out at the dilapidated buildings and crumbling pillars.  Impressive though they were, they were also very empty.  “You think,” she asked.

            “Well, when we meet people, when we love them, and when we hate them, if affects our soul.  It can leave us damaged or heal our wounds.  It’s all speculation, but I see no reason why the planet’s soul wouldn’t do the very same thing.”

            “Okay.”  Ellen nodded her head like she understood.  She thought she did, but also felt like there was something there that was so big that she could never really wrap head around it.  She looked at him.  “So, where to?”

            “We keep moving.”  He started down the hill.  “Your friend, Alex, is somewhere out there, and so is her friend.  We need to find them and get out.”

            Ellen nodded and followed him down into the city proper.  The town was better preserved here, but not by much.  Whole buildings stood, their foundations cracked but holding.  She peeked into open windows at sturdy tables, set for meals that would never be had.  To her, it looked like a city properly filled with ghosts.

            Ellen thought about her parents, at home, missing her.  She had never been close to them, but she was still shaped by them.  All of the good and bad that she was came from them, distilled through genes and behaviors, either known or taught, like Isaac said.  Every success and failure they had as parents showed in everything from the way she walked to the way she talked.  It made sense to her that the world, and its soul, would function the same way, and it made her think of herself as a tiny little world all her own.

            The thought left her both proud and humbled.  Like she was small but still so significant.

            Isaac walked a short distance ahead of her, and she sped up to match his pace.  “Hey, Isaac?  What you said got me thinking, about all the people in my life, and about, well, a lot of stuff.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Mmhmm.”  She smiled.  “You know a lot of stuff, a lot about this stuff, but I realized that I don’t really know much about YOU.  For instance, what’s your family like?”

            He went quiet.  They stopped at the center of the square.  Another fountain was here, larger and more enduring than the one before it.  The area was a wide circle, stone-laid all around.  Some of the buildings here were two stories tall, though most of those had collapsed inward already, beaten by their own gravity.

            Ellen watched him.  The woman from the desert came to mind, and the man they fought in the sand.  She had watched Isaac, watched him fight, spoke to Ellen about him.  She knew him, and Ellen felt she knew how, but she didn’t want to jump to conclusions.  So, she said, “Hey, did you hear me?”

            He glanced toward her, his expression hardened, and that was answer enough.  She looked away and let him move forward.  He came to a stop by the fountain and was there a short while before she joined him.  She stopped beside him, head down, staring into the dusty bowl in front of them.  Anything of value was taken long ago.

            “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

            “It’s fine.”  They looked toward each other and shared a smile.  “Just not much to say.  Anyway, you feeling okay?”

            “What?”

            “I was thinking we could take a rest while we have the time.”

            “Well, my feet are a bit sore.”  She took a few steps forward him, looked him right in the smile.  “I guess we could rest.  Maybe you could rub them for me.”  She laughed.

            “Only if you rub mine, first.”

            “Ew.  No.”

            “Come on, let’s make camp here.”  He settled on the fountain, testing it before settling his full weight.  “We’ll catch our breath and head out.”

            “Will Alex and Shana be okay?”

            “They should be fine.  They’re strong, and from how things feel now, it seems like they’ve got each other.

 

: Murderer :

 

            Alex held Shana and listened to her cry and mutter apologizes for hours.  In return, she rubbed her back and whispered back her own hushed understandings and adorations.  She harbored no ill-will toward Shana and never would.  In fact, if it weren’t for Shana, Alex probably wouldn’t be alive there that day.  In Alex’s eyes, Shana is the best part of her.

            Time passed, and Shana quieted.  Soon, the two of them fell asleep together, waking some time later in a grassy meadow with a pond nearby.  Alex was alone, lying on her back with a halo of grass flattened around her.  She rose and found Shana sitting by the water, one foot dunked and soaking inside, the other leg clutched tight to her breast as she stared down at her own reflection.  It was the most tired Alex had ever seen her.

            The rest had done Alex some good.  She still felt weak, especially after that battle, but it wasn’t the same struggle to sit up.  She managed to stand and felt the world shift beneath her, but only for the moment.  Deep breathes eased the vertigo and allowed her to move forward.

            When Shana saw her, she jumped up and rushed to her side, catching her just before her legs gave out.  “Alex!  You’re still hurt.  Don’ be an idiot.  Lie back down.”  Like a mother, she guided Alex gently back into the grass.

            This time, Shana held Alex, resting her head on her folded legs and combing her hair with her fingers.  The fatigued lingered, mixing with love, giving Shana an air of affectionate exhaustion.  “I can’t believe you,” she said, and Alex was grateful for it.  Each censure was a sign of continued love and lingering concern, gifts Alex felt unworthy to receive.

            “I was worried about you,” Alex said, and Shana rolled her eyes.

            “I’m fine, you big goof.  Now, go to sleep.  You’re hurt, and you need your rest.”

            “I can’t.”  Alex tried to push herself back up but was held firmly in place.

            “You can and will.”

            “I need to find Ellen, and Abraham.”  Alex didn’t say it, but she wanted to find Carolyne, too.  She just couldn’t vocalize it, because she didn’t know what would happen when they found each other, and she couldn’t face the worst of it yet, so she set it aside for another time.

            “No, you need to sleep.”

            “They need me.”

            “They don’t need someone who can barely stand.”  She combed Alex’s hair again, her fingers dragging gently across her scalp, soothing her.  Slowly, the tension left Alex’s body.  Her breathing eased, and she settled as the worry and anxiety slowly left her.  Ellen drifted away, and so did Abraham, and Carolyne, too, and Alex was left alone with Shana, the one person she had managed to save, the one person who always managed to save her.

            Shana began to hum and then sing.  “Lullaby and good night, with roses bedight, with lilies...”

            Alex groaned.  “Please, don’t sing.”  Shana slapped her arm lightly.

            “Hush, you, it’ll help you sleep.”  She acted hurt, but she was smiling, and she held Alex’s head again and hummed to her the song, without words, but Alex knew them and sang them in her head.

 

Lullaby and good night, with roses bedight

With lilies o’er spread is baby’s wee bed

Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed

Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed

 

Lullaby and good night, thy mother’s delight

Bright angels beside my darling abide

They will guard thee at rest, thou shalt wake on my breast

They will guard thee at rest, though shalt wake on my breast

 

: Murderer :

 

            Ellen and Isaac made camp a short distance from the fountain, inside of the hollowed-out shell of a collapsed building.  Isaac went about gathering kindling to start a small fire at Ellen’s insistence.  He made a point to explain that it wasn’t cold, and she made a point to explain that it isn’t proper camping unless you have a fire.  In the end it was good for them, as it gave them a distraction while they nursed it slowly to life.

            Isaac kept watch, even as they rest.  He paced a tight circle around the light and stared out into the empty village around them.  Ellen didn’t want to look.  After the initial awe faded, she came to realize that this truly was a ghost town.  Tables set, frames on walls with the painting or pictures torn away, and all the dust.  People had lived her, or so Ellen thought, and now they were gone.  She was sitting amongst their graves.

            After a few minutes, she made Isaac rest.  He was reluctant but, once made to sit, he fell asleep immediately.  It was strange.  Ellen hadn’t felt tired since she arrived, but Isaac was out like he hadn’t slept in weeks.  She passed the time watching him or watching the fire.  Sometimes she stared up at the sky and spotted a few stars here or there, even in the light.  She did everything she could to keep from looking into the buildings around her.

            She wondered if Carolyne was dead, and then she wondered if Carolyne had followed them there.  Neither one made her feel better, and she decided that it was better not knowing either way.  What mattered most was that Ellen would not have to see her again.  What mattered most was that Ellen was safe with Isaac.

            Something moved in a building nearby and stirred her.  She didn’t mean to look but did anyway.  Through one of the open windows she saw something, someone, watching them.  It was small and hidden in the shadows, but she could see the form of it, and when it saw her, it stood and moved.  Ellen spied the color of a raven’s feathers in its hair and followed without thinking.

            It went down a long alley, taking turns quickly and then seeming to disappear altogether.  Ellen followed it deeper, where the buildings were larger and the streets narrower.  The skyline faded gently into a bruised purple and the moon appeared, a crescent winking down at her from the night sky.  Her footsteps echoed down the empty streets.

            She was just about to turn around and work her way back when it appeared again.  A flash of dark hair rounding the corner, and Ellen thought she heard a voice.  She followed again, around the corner, and found no one waiting for her on the other side.  There was just a vast, empty field of white flowers.  A lone house stood in the center, part of the wall crumbled away, and Ellen was drawn to it.

            The floorboards groaned under her weight.  She walked the length of the room, tracing her finger along the wall as she paced.  There was a lone bed and a vanity against the wall.  The bed was made up and old, the wood molded, the blankets dusty.  A teddy bear sat, tucked in one corner, the stuffing coming out of the seams.  She thought it might frighten her, but she was wrong, because she knew it.

            She had a vanity like the one against the wall.  It had lasted her from childhood through high school until one drawer finally gave out.  Her father had promised to fix it but never had.  When she went home, she still combed her hair in front of it before bed.  It was a thing of comfort to her, even now, covered in dust.

            Old as it was, this was her room, the little place she would go when the world was too much, when her family was too much.  She sat on the bed and smiled until a shadow fell over her.  “Well, don’t you seem nostalgic?”  Ellen froze. The voice gave it away.

            She looked up at the doorway and felt the blood drain from her.  She was there, waiting, lurking, preying on her at her more intimate moments, and she finally found Ellen, all alone, without Isaac or Alex there to protected her.  All by herself.  Ellen knew she wouldn’t be enough to save herself.

            Carolyne smiled.  “Come now, Ellen, invite me in.  It’s rude to keep a friend waiting.”  Carolyne clicked her tongue and passed the threshold.  “Then again, I guess you did give me a standing invitation, huh?  ‘You’re always welcome,’ wasn’t it?  How juvenile.”

            Ellen wanted to move but couldn’t bring herself to.  It felt to her like she was weighed down with cinder blocks.  Carolyne moved freely, though, pacing the room, gathering dust on her fingers and rubbing it between them.  She stopped before the vanity and looked at Ellen.

            “Looks like the old girl has seen better days.”

            She looked much the same, showing no wear on her tiny frame.  Her smile was vicious, and though she had no weapon in her hand, Ellen could remember her blade vividly.  The world seemed to warp around Carolyne when she held that sword, her Voice, Ellen was sure.

            “What’s wrong with you?  You’ve gone all white.  What, aren’t you happy to see me?”

            Ellen stammered and ran as hard as she could.  Her legs still felt heavy, but she refused to stay and die like that.  She couldn’t do much, but she could at least try to make it back before Carolyne gutted her.

            The streets were a blur, just one long, narrow path even with the turns taken.  She remembered the pain in her leg, the glint in Carolyne’s eye.  Her previous flight fueled her current one and carried her father and faster than she had gone before, but whenever she looked back she found Carolyne there, following leisurely and smiling.

            She rounded one corner and fell into the wall nearby.  As she stood, she checked the way behind her and saw nothing.  The way before her was equally clear.  She gasped for breath and balanced against the wall, and she decided she was wrong.  It was worse not to know where Carolyne was.

            She started moving again and, after another turn, saw the fountain ahead.  On approach she came to a stop, bending forward and holding against it and only realizing then that it wasn’t the right fountain.  Somehow, she had bypassed the camp and ended up farther back.  The night had followed her here and, staring into the starry eyes watching her, Ellen wondered if she had left Isaac back in the daytime.

            Carolyne was still missing, but Ellen felt anything but safe.  She checked every alleyway around her and saw nothing, and she wanted to cry.  She wanted to scream, for Isaac, for Alex, for her parents.  More than anything, she just wanted this strange nightmare to end and wake up in her bed, the bed she knew, and to comb her hair in front of her vanity like a normal girl.

            ...cut this string of fate!

            A flash of light and the fountain dissolved into dust.  A thousand tiny stones rained down on her and smoke swelled and filled the area.  Carolyne appeared from the rubble, her Voice in hand, still smiling.

            Ellen ran again, reaching the edge a hill and tumbling down.  She rolled to a stop and crawled forward on her hands and knees, Carolyne behind her, hopping down lithely in her wake.  She had one hand in her pocket still as she alighted and swung her blade like a child might.  For her, this was a game, cat and mouse, only far more deadly.

            Ellen forced herself to standing and stumbled.  She fell forward, into the dirt, and started crying again.  Her legs wouldn’t work, no matter how she willed them.  She was just too tired, and she didn’t have the strength needed to survive this.  She curled on the ground and sobbed, and she knew she was dead.

            “Finally, you stop.”  Carolyne paced a circle around her.  Her smile swelled and consumed half of her face.  She kicked Ellen, not hard, but just enough to roll her onto her back.  “What’s the phrase?  The road to hell is paved with good intentions?”

            Ellen choked and rolled away, scrambling toward a nearby wall fragment.  She was nearly there, her hand on it, when Carolyne’s blade imbedded itself in the stone between her fingers.  Ellen froze in place and let Carolyne kick her into the dirt.  Then, the other woman withdrew her Voice with a slow scratch.

            “I’ve wanted to do this for a while, you know?”  Ellen could feel Carolyne’s Voice just behind her head, the sharpened tip hovering inches away, ready for the kill.  “Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to cut your fucking throat out.  People like you give humanity a bad name.  Useless, weak, stupid fools like you.”

            She rolled Ellen over and made her stare down the length of her blade.  In that moment, Ellen felt foolish and weak.  In that moment, she looked back at her entire life and felt like the biggest fool in the world.  Her parents had made it clear that they wouldn’t pay for her college.  They said she wasn’t smart enough, but that she was pretty, and that she should marry into a nice family with good income.  They said she should focus on being a homemaker.  At the time it had hurt so much, but looking back, she was sure it wouldn’t hurt as much as death.

            “Know what pisses me off the most, though?  The fact that you think you’re better than me.  So sweet, so kind, so pretty, always trying to do the right fucking thing.  Well, it’s just like they say.  The road to hell, Ellen, the road to fucking hell!”

            Ellen could see it inside of Carolyne.  The want.  The hunger.  Her desire to kill.  She wanted to take Ellen’s life, but there was something holding her back.  Her blade was poised, ready, capable, but she wavered.  She had both hands on it, and all it would take is a single thrust, and still she hadn’t done it.

            “You wanted to help that poor little girl, but all you did was get her captured.  You ruined her life, just like you ruined Alex’s, just like you ruined everything!  If it weren’t for you then none of us would be here.  And then I wouldn’t have to kill you, or Alex, or the girl.  It’s all because of you!”

            Ellen sobbed harder.  “I’m sorry, please.  I’m sorry!”

            Her words set Carolyne on edge.  Each tear seemed to make the hunger grow, like she was begging for an end.  And maybe Ellen was.  Looking back, she could see the truth in Carolyne’s words.  It hurt to admit it, but she truly did drag them in, even if she hadn’t meant to.

            “It’s all your fault,” Carolyne said.  Her hands were shaking.  “You’ve taken so many lives.  Now, I’ll take yours.”

            Ellen closed her eyes tight.  Even if it were true, she still didn’t want to die.  If she died, she couldn’t fix any of it.  If she died, she couldn’t make anything right, and as she closed her eyes, she saw the little girl with dark hair and pale skin, socks on her hands, sleeping beside her.  She saw her parents, standing over her, judging her, but she remembered how Abraham smiled, and she knew that, good or bad, she did right.

            It was too late, though.  So, Ellen braced against the wall, and she waited, for something, for the blade to pierce her skull or for a miracle to stop it.  Nothing came.  Tears streaked down her face, mucus and saliva alongside them.  She was too afraid to move, to wipe it all way, but she felt nothing.

            She waited and waited and nothing came, and when she opened her eyes she found Carolyne standing there, a smile painted, plastic, on her face.  Her hands were steady as stone.  The tip of her Voice was a hair’s width away and no closer.  She didn’t move, seemingly couldn’t, not until she staggered away.

            Isaac appeared then, his Voices in hand.  “What the hell is—Ellen!”

            Carolyne paced and stomped petulant child.  “She was going to die!  I was going to kill her!”  She swung her blade at caught a nearby wall, collapsing it with a clean slice through the center.

            When she moved, Isaac stepped forward and tossed his blue chakram toward her.  Carolyne ducked under it, backpedaling as she went.  He closed in and swung at her with the other chakram as soon as she steadied, but she once again twisted out of reach, striking back at from behind her back as she twirled and having the blow deflected.

            They fell into a dance, or so it looked from Ellen’s view.  The blonde watched blank-faced as they darted about, spiraling and swaying, their Voices clashing for dominance.  It was a sudden change and one she hadn’t quite come to terms with.  One moment she was going to die.  The next she was safely out of harm’s reach, watching the danger from afar.

            Carolyne screamed as she stumbled back into a wall.  It collapsed under her weight and left her to tumble to a halt inside of the building.  Her Voice left her hands and rested on the ground between her and Isaac.  Both were still, him with his weapons ready, her watching him for movement.  A lull and then she lunged for her rapier and managed to grab it and meet Isaac’s overhead strike.

            A shadow swallowed her just as their Voices were to clash again and left Isaac to stab the flooring.  The wood gave under him, splintering on contact, and he had to work the blade out before he could stand.  After a quick glance around, he returned to Ellen’s side and stood over her, still at the ready.

            The shadows swirled and gathered a short distance away, rolling back like the tide and revealing Carolyne underneath, blade at the ready, eying them.  A man stood beside her, tall and bronze-skinned, his hair a pale grey, his eyes thin and red.  He smiled at Isaac and touched Carolyne on the shoulder before the shadows returned, and they disappeared, leaving only inky darkness in their wake.

            “Damn it!”  Isaac kicked in the nearby wall, and Ellen flinched away.  He breathed through his anger before kneeling beside her, and she stared at his Voice until he recalled it.  Then, he was allowed to touch her, and he took her by the shoulders.  “You okay?”

            “I-I’m fine.  I just...”  She wiped her nose and her eyes, and she looked away.  It was supposed to feel better to have survived, or so she thought.  All she felt was empty.

            “Were you injured?”

            “I’m fine,” she said again, and she still couldn’t look him in the eye.

            Isaac stayed there for a moment, kneeling before her.  Then he stood and offered her a hand.  “Okay.  Good.”  She took his hand, and he pulled her to standing.  He gave her his jacket, and though it made her feel a bit like a small child to have him comforting her in this way, she still pulled it tight around her shoulders.

            He touched her shoulder again.  “We should go.  They might come back soon.”

            Ellen nodded and followed him back toward their encampment.  He walked more slowly now and stayed beside her and always within reach.  Eventually, she was walking close beside him, to where their arms were touching, because she just wanted to know he was there.  She stared at the ground as they walked and trusted him to guide her safely forward, and he did.

            He led her back through the city and beyond.  The night faded, and the city shifted again into another landscape, but Ellen hardly took notice.  Her mind was occupied with other things, foremost of which was why she was allowed to live.

 

: Murderer :

 

            Goliath found Abel by the gemstone, staring quietly into its red glow, and he stood quietly to the side, hands folded in front of him.  Abel was quiet and motionless.  He didn’t speak, he didn’t ask questions, he didn’t even need to look him in the eye.  His presence was enough, as were the memories.  The only scar Goliath remembered getting belonged to Abel’s lance.  It was a comfort to him, really, because he knew if Abel truly wanted him dead, then he wouldn’t have time to worry about it.

            Finally, after a long silence, Abel’s deep voice filled the empty cathedral.  “Kill her and the one she travels with.  No more mercy, no more mistakes.”

            Goliath nodded and left.  He didn’t like it, but he knew it didn’t matter.  This time, he would follow through.  Abel didn’t give second chances lightly, and someday soon, he wouldn’t give them at all.  So, he took the words to heart, memorizing them and repeating them to himself: no more mercy, no more mistakes.