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.

Indigo: Abraham, Emotion Vol. 1: Emotion, Chapter Five: A Faerie Tale Finish

Chapter Five: A Faerie Tale Finish

            Alex woke in pain.  Her right arm burned, the raw, pink flesh exposed to the air around her.  Sand and dirt had gathered on the flesh, feeling gritty and hard against the ripe skin.  It hurt to move, to breath, and even thoughts were a struggle.  When she opened her eyes pain spread through her, and she curled up, letting it dance down her spine and spread into her limbs and digits.

            She swallowed and found her throat dry.  Her mouth tasted of metal, and she rolled something thick and wet across her tongue, forcing it with effort through her dry lips.  Blood trickled down her cheek and gathered with what was already crusted and dry beneath her head.

            Another swallow, and she forced herself over onto her front.  The world spun, and she fought a renewed wave of nausea.  The battle was short lived and ended in failure as she vomited, first into the dirt and then onto herself.  Slowly, she crawled through the fresh vomit to a nearby wall, where she managed to push herself up.

            The stones were cold against her skin and helped to ease the pain.  She lied back and opened her eyes again, holding them open against the dry, hot air.  The wall gave her a shadow to hide in.  Wherever she was, she was somewhere else entirely.  The air was dry still, but not so dry as it was before, and the colors different, more vibrant.  She couldn’t focus on it, though.  Everything blurred and blacked, and her last thought resting against that wall was of Shana, lost in the woods, looking for home.

: EMOTION :

            Samantha led Shana by the hand.  They walked beside the stream, following it deeper into the jungle.  The sun stayed high, blades of light forcing through the canopy and lighting the forest floor just enough to see by.  The air was moist and thick, and the deeper they went, the hotter it became.

            Shana was different now.  She could feel the life around her, breathing with her as the world did. It was an infinite ocean of lights.  It was and endless song, expertly sung.  More than all of that, it was everywhere, and she could see each of the individual lives separate of it.  She could find them in the haze.  She could find Alex.

            As they walked Samantha slowed.  She no longer needed to guide Shana, as Shana knew exactly where she was and where she was going.  This change brought a change in Samantha, too.  When Shana first heard her Voice and materialized in her hand Samantha was so proud she could hardly stop talking about it, but the longer they walked, the worse her mood became. She carried storm clouds with her wherever they went, and Shana could feel those, too.

            They came to rest beside the stream.  Samantha soaked her feet, and Shana joined her.  She nudged the other woman, staring at where her hair fell and exposed soft, ivory flesh.  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

            Samantha looked at her, allowed a brief smile, and then sighed heavily.  “Nothing.  Nothing at all is wrong.  If something were wrong, I would look sad, but I don’t.  I’m smiling, see?”

            “Maybe, but you weren’t smiling earlier.”

            “And I am now.”  Samantha kissed Shana on the nose.  “I don’t want to worry you, my love.”

            “Then tell me what’s wrong,” Shana said, and she leaned forward and caught Samantha in a kiss.  Their tongues met and, for a moment, the world stopped for them.  It always did when they kissed, and that is how Shana knew it was real.  They parted, and the stream burbled again.  Birds sang just for them, and Shana took Samantha’s hand and kissed her fingers, each of them, individually.  “Come on.  You’re already making me worry, so just tell me.”

            “Well,” Samantha chewed her cherry red lips, and Shana stared.  She wanted to kiss her again, but she saw the sadness in the other woman’s eyes and knew there would be time for that later.  “I am being spoiled, I suppose, but I am afraid, even jealous, of that woman, Alexandra.”

            Shana paused, lips on Samantha’s knuckles, and then burst into laughter.  “Why would you be jealous?  Do you think that—No, no, nothing like that.  Alex and I are friends.  That’s it.  I promise.”

            Samantha held her gaze, but she didn’t smile.  She didn’t say anything, she just stood and started walking, arms crossed and holding her hair to her body.  It accentuated her curves, and here or there glimpses of bare breasts showed.  Shana trailed after.

            “What did I do now?”

            “Nothing.”

            Shana caught Samantha and turned her, and she held her in place by the shoulders.  “Please.”

            Samantha shook her head and stood, staring firmly, silently, into Shana’s eyes.

            Shana did her best pout.  “Pretty please?”

            A few more seconds of silence, and then a sigh, and Samantha teased her hair.  Every movement showed another part of her, and she wore it all so bravely and so well.  Shana saw where the scars were formed on Samantha’s wrists.  “Fine,” she says, turning sideways and staring into the stream, where the water glistens in the sunlight.  “You’re just so happy when you think about her. Too happy.  It makes me worry that you love her more than me.  And I trust you when you say you don’t love her romantically, but the thought that you might love her at all is still hurtful.”

            Shana leaned in, hugged Samantha from the side.  She wanted to say something, the right thing, the thing that would comfort her, but she didn’t have the words for it.  Any assurance would be a lie, and Shana couldn’t bring herself to lie to Samantha.

            Samantha turned in Shana’s grasp and lifted her hands to cup Shana’s face, pale fingers on pink cheeks, and she pulled her forward until their noses touched.  They could taste each other’s breaths.  Samantha licked her cherry red lips.  “But that isn’t true, is it?  You love me above all else, don’t you?”

            Shana stared into Samantha’s eyes, got lost in them.  They were blue, but a darker shade of blue than Shana had ever seen, bluer than the ocean’s depths, and whenever the light caught them, they changed, like Shana was changing.  Alex was important, but the more Shana thought about it, the less she knew how important.  In that moment, at the very least, Samantha was the brightest star.

            “Right,” Samantha said, voice urgent and husky.

            “Right,” Shana said, and they kissed, and Alex faded a little more.  They part, and Shana smiled and laughed to herself for being so silly.  “Right, of course.  You’re the most important person in my life.”  Another kiss.  “I love you, Samantha.”

            Samantha smiled now, large, red, and silky, and Shana felt weak in her grasp.  Another kiss, this one deeper and longer, and Samantha followed it by kissing along Shana’s face, along her eyes, along her nose, along her chin.  She whispered to her, “And since you love me so much, you would never want to make me suffer.  You would never want me to be sad or angry or jealous, would you?”

            Shana nodded.

            “Then kill her.  Kill Alexandra for me.”

            Shana swallowed.  She could feel Samantha’s smile in the breath against her ear, just like she could feel the warmth of her own cheeks, the beat of her own heart, and the breaths of her own lungs.  They weren’t so much separate anymore as one single entity joined at the hands and, sometimes, at the lips.  That was why Shana’s first instinct was to agree, but her heart did not remain silent.  It spoke out, and she managed to twist out of Samantha’s grip, but the sight of her beautiful lover stilled her defiant heart.

            She stammered before speaking.  “No.  No, I couldn’t do that.  I—Why would you even ask me to do such a thing?”

            Samantha met her again, held her tight and kissed her one more time.  The world went dark, and only they existed in that moment, perfect and private.  Shana held Samantha now, held her small hands, her slender, pale fingers.  They parted, and Samantha looked now at the ground.  Shana traced one hand along Samantha’s palm before she felt the scar tissue on her wrists again.

            “You would rather see me sad, then?”

            “No.  No, of course not.  I just...I can’t kill, Alex.”

            “And why not?  Because you love her?”

            Shana breathed through her tears, tears that came to her in an instant.  She shook her head, and she held Samantha tighter.  “Of course I love her!”

            “But are you in love with her?”

            “No!”

            “And you are in love with me?”

            Another breath and this time hesitation.  Shana looked away, stared at the stream.  She needed to think, to focus, to escape Samantha’s hypnotic, ocean-deep eyes, but now she could smell the other woman, and the powerful, musky, feminine scent fogged her head further.  She couldn’t bring herself to speak, so she just held Samantha tight and hoped that was enough.

            “Shana.  Are you in love with me?”

            “Yes,” Shana whispered back, and she knocked the tears from her eyes as she blinked.

            Samantha took her chin and brought her back, and she stared into her eyes.  “But you will choose her over me?”

            “No.  Of course not.”  Shana groaned, and she fell into Samantha, sobbing into her shoulders.  She kept repeating it, “Of course not,” over and over.

            Samantha shushed her and soothed her.  She petted Shana’s hair gently until she eased the other woman’s tears, and then she kissed them away.  Smoothing away Shana’s long hair and exposing one ear, Samantha whispered to her, and she smiled.  “Then I will ask you only one more time.  Kill Alexandra.  Kill her and, once she is gone, we can finally have our happily ever after.”

: EMOTION :

            The vomit and blood had dried her shirt against her body, and it flaked off as she moved.  Her chin felt sticky while the rest of her was cold and sore, but it no longer hurt to breathe so much, and the pain in her arm and turned to numbness.  When she tried to stand her legs held her, and that was enough for her, so she braced against the wall and stumbled forward, in the direction she thought Shana might be.

            She was in a forest in the morning.  The air was warm because of the sunlight.  Smoky grey stones were scattered around her, and she moved tactically between them, not trusting her legs alone.  They were cold to the touch and, here or there, she felt runes etched into them but didn’t have enough interest to look.

            Her joints ached as she moved, and she wondered how long she had slept.  Shana was moving toward her, drawn by some magnetic force between them that Alex has always known was there but was never brave enough to admit.  Sometimes, she imagined they were bound together by an invisible string, red when she imagined it, knotted at birth.

            These thoughts made her smile and helped her move faster.  Sometimes, she moved so fast that she worried her feet wouldn’t keep up.  The ruins held her, though, until she could hold herself, and by that point she could breathe again without coughing.  By that point, she was strong enough to stop nursing her wounds, and that is when she started to run, because Shana was close, and she refused to arrive late.

: EMOTION :

            They met on a deserted highway at noon.  The sun was high and warm, a blazing golden eye glaring down at them with the fury of the gods.  Heat distorted the dark, cracked asphalt.  A street sign stood between them on the right, its face bleached off and steel creaking in the wind.  Alex shuffled forward on unsteady legs and came to a stop when she saw her.  Shana had been waiting for some time.

            It wasn’t how either had imagined.  Shana wasn’t alone.  She stood with a woman wrapped only in the dark curls of her own hair, and she looked different.  Alex couldn’t describe what it was exactly, but Shana shined like a star whenever Alex closed her eyes.  She shined brighter even than the sun above them.  She was stronger now, brilliant, and deep-down Alex could feel the change, too.

            Black clouds gathered in the distance and the air was hot and tense.  A breeze teased their hair and stirred dust devils across the shifting orange landscape.  It still hurt to breathe, but Alex was managing. She didn’t know how much time had passed since her fight with Goliath and was even less certain of when she had fought Carolyne before him.  This was the first moment of relief she had since, though.  In the back of her mind she waited for the shoe to drop.

            They made eye contact and smiled, but Shana’s smile was off.  She looked sad, even mournful.  The woman beside her smiled, too, but hers was more earnest.  She stepped in close to Shana and whispered into her ear.  “You know what you must do for me, my love.  So, do it.  Prove to me your undying devotion.”

            Shana’s lips quivered.  She wiped the tears from her eyes and traded a look between the two women, the two loves of her life.  Then, she held out her right hand, fingers parted and stretched.  The light around her distorted as her Voice appeared.  She caught it and pulled it in, gripping the haft with both hands and holding it to her chest, and she stared at Alex.  “I’m sorry.”

            “Sorry?  Shana, sorry for what?”

            Shana charged and leaped.  She brought her hammer up over head and then down on Alex, but the blow didn’t land.  Alex sidestepped and rolled to the side, coming to a stop on one knee a few feet away.  Already, she was winded.  The burning in her lungs was starting anew.  That was how the battle started.

            This was not the meeting Alex had imagined, nor was it the woman she knew.  There were no hugs, no God blesses, only violence and sorrow. Shana’s blow had shattered the pavement, the hammer’s head being denser than it looked.  Alex called Three Gods out of instinct before she spoke.

            “Shana, what are you doing?”

            The question was left unanswered.  Shana turned and brought the hammer with her.  Alex caught it across the blade and while the blow didn’t hurt, it was enough to knock her sideways.  Her legs were shaking again, especially as she tried to hold her ground against another blow.

            Another swing, and this time Alex was staggered back.  Another after that, but Alex was able to duck under and put distance between them.  Shana followed steadily, making each movement slow and deliberate.  She couldn’t hold back, not in front of Samantha, but she still didn’t want to hurt her best friend, let alone kill her.  In the back of her head she kept telling herself to stop, to tell Samantha off and take Alex home, but by that point her body was moving of its own accord.  It was all she could do to slow herself down.

            Alex lost her footing and fell to her knee.  She looked up to find Shana’s hammer head falling.  That was it, the killing blow.  It would leave Alex’s grey matter spread across the asphalt, and then she would be little more than a bloody memory that seeped into the cracks.  Alex lifted her bracer just in time to catch the blow and angled her blade in a way that sent the hammer sliding off in a shower of sparks.

            Shana screamed and spun around, bringing her hammer in low this time.  Alex caught it again, but the angle threw her.  She sailed backward and managed to slide to a stop on her feet.  She stabbed Three Gods into the earth to come to an gain her footing.  Shana followed with tears in her eyes.

            “Fight, damn it!  Fight me! Fight back!”  Shana bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and struggled to swallow her sobs.  She made another swing, which Alex managed to avoid.  The one after that made contact but not well.

            Alex felt something in Shana with each swing.  Despite her screams, despite the violence, Alex could feel in her something familiar.  Deep down, it was the woman she always knew, she just shined brighter than before.  This anger and hate wasn’t natural to her, though.  It was forced on her, and it was that foreign force that moved her.  Deep down, she didn’t want to fight any more than Alex did, she just couldn’t stop herself.  Luckily, Alex knew just how to save her.

            Another blow knocked her back, and then Alex came to a stop.  She lowered her arms and willed her Voice away, and she kneeled down in front of Shana, head forward, hair draped over her eyes.  She could hear Shana’s approach, feeling the light of her charging the air.  The hammer was overhead, shining just as bright as Shana, and then she screamed.

            “I’m sorry...”

            The asphalt beside Alex was fractured and the hammer lost inside of it.  Shana shook above her and began sobbing.  Then she fell forward, into Alex’s waiting arms, while her Voice dissolved into the air beside them.  Alex held her and hugged her, and she soothed her as she cried.

            “I’m sorry, Alex.  I’m so, so sorry.”

            The air, heavy as it was, began to settle.  Thunder growled in the distance as the storm stirred.  A cool wind was coming in, and Alex held Shana tighter and was held in return.  She rubbed her back and wiped away her tears, and she kept whispering to her that it was fine, that it was okay, and that she was alive.

            They stayed like this, together, and cried like children into each other’s shoulders.  Alex didn’t understand, and she didn’t need to.  She had done something important that day and actually succeeded in saving someone she loved, and that was enough. 

            Distracted as they were, neither of them were even aware of Samantha’s timely disappearance.

: EMOTION :

            When it became clear that the spell was broken Samantha ran. She ran and ran until her feet bled and her lungs ached, and then she kept running until the landscape shifted from one to another.  It should have been impossible to lose the battle that way.  She owned Shana’s heart.  At least, she should have owned it.

            She came to a stop and bent forward on her knees.  The highway was gone, left behind her somewhere else, in some other time, and she found herself on a rocky overhang that looked out on an empty lakebed.  Fog and clouds obscured the sunlight and cast rainbows across the valley.  The air was cold, wet, and reeked of death.

            Boots clicked on the stones behind her, and she turned to find a tall, dark-skinned man with high-cheeks and ivory hair.  He was well-built, muscular in the torso and broad around the shoulders, and he wore a twisted sneer.  It looked like a knife-wound across his face.

            Samantha backed away from him, to the very edge of the rocks.  “Crest.”

            “Samantha.”  His voice was rough and his eyes the color of amber.  He moved slowly toward her, his long hair fanning around him like a cape caught on the wind.

            She gave a smile.  “May I help you?”  Her voice was shaky and broken, but she hoped he didn’t notice.  Judging from the hunger in his eyes, however, he had.

            “Well, dear, I’ve come to take care of a loose end.  You see, we have no room for cowards in...”

            “You don’t understand!  I’m not strong enough to...”

            “...our ranks.  And it is my job to cut away those ends, because if they are left unattended to fester, well, they make us all weaker for it.”

            “...fight them off.  I have nothing outside of my Soul Kiss.”

            “You could have tried something.”

            “And what do you expect me to try?  Kiss them both?”

            His sneer twisted further, leaving his face a ridged with shadows and hardly human.  “I expect you to fight.”

            “Fight and die?”

            He paused as if in consideration, and then he nodded.  “Now you only have the one option, don’t you?”

            She looked back into the fog behind her and realized she couldn’t see the lakebed below, and she considered jumping.  Then she looked forward and ran toward Crest instead.  He grabbed her by the neck as she came close and pulled her toward him.  His hands were strong and his fingers long.  He had her off her feet with little more than a grunt and held her above him, staring into her eyes as he squeezed the life from her.

            “And do you know what that option is, Samantha?”

            She coughed and reached for his face, clutching him tight and pulling him closer.  Her limbs felt numb.  Her toes were cold.  She stared him in the eyes, his hateful, angry eyes that were amber iris around black holes.  He looked so empty, like death.  She turned her gaze on his knife-cut mouth.

            “Ah-uh,” he said and held her away again, still suspended in the air.  The shadows around him swelled to life, swallowing the sunlight that touched them.  Soon, they were eclipsed by those shadows, but by that point Samantha’s vision was blurred and fading.  She wasn’t dead yet, though.  He gave her just enough air to keep her alive, awake, even if the world was dancing.

            The shadows circled the area below her, long tendrils stretching up like giant, ancient teeth.  He held her a moment longer as they licked at her feet, leaving slender cuts in her pale flesh.  They felt cold against her flesh.

            He released her, and the shadows caught her in their gentle, frosty embrace.  They parted her skin and seeped inside, gathering around her and pulling her in.  She gasped for air and began to scream while he watched her, the shadows rolling along her flesh and swallowing her to the shoulders.  They weren’t so cold anymore, not while they burrowed into her bones.

            She coughed.  The rush of oxygen had made her momentarily high.  The world continued to sway.  She tried to scream again but couldn’t.  There was something in her throat, wriggling and writhing through her, rending flesh as it went.  Then it crawled out of her mouth, whittling down her teeth and pulling her apart.

            Crest watched until she was gone and flexed his hand after.  The shadows compressed around her, and she hardly made a sound.  Then, they receded, leaving a broken bag of meat and bone.  He smiled and turned, and he left her there in the daylight, his shadows trailing, always at his heels.