+1+
I sat up still feeling lightheaded. It was dark outside and I realized I must have been unconscious the entire day.
I'd missed my flight.
I felt around for my phone but it was lost in the dark.
I reached to turn on the light, the power had been cut.
“Mommy, I’m going to miss you.”, Rosalie called from the dark
“Rosalie, I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re going to die.”
And I’m not
“We’re all going to die eventually “, I said repeating myself from earlier.
“I know. . .but I have to kill you."
Cause
Victor needs you out the way .
The light came on and I was lying in the hotel bedroom. The windows were frosted over and Rose had a large kitchen knife clutched in her little hands,the digital clock clicked on the counter
AHHH ! Frosted windows in July ?
It was July 3rd
I'd been asleep for the past 48 hours.
Today was the day she was
going to die.
Mr. Fierro didn't poison me. . . she did.
“Rose. . . put the knife down”, I ordered her
This wasn't right, I wasn't supposed to die. . . she was.
Rosalie shook her head, her eyes were very large and red just lined with wetness. She brought the blade down, my hand inches from being severed.
"Rosalie !"
They did not cover this in Nanny 911. BTW I watched that to research misbehaved kids.
I moved to the other side of the bed not taking my eyes off of her. Her voice was sweet but her eyes were menacing. I noticed the Ann doll propped up in the corner. . . watching.
“Mommy ?”, Rose followed me dragging the large knife behind her, “You have to stand still.”
I held my hands up and stepped back, I doubt she even knew I was giving in.
“Put the knife down, Rose. Please, you’re scaring me”
Rule of Creepy. Child with a bloody clever.
I
reached for the door pulling it open and slipping out before she noticed.
"Hello ?", I called to the empty hall
Where was everyone.
I heard Rosalie scream for me again and I knocked on Mr. Fierro's door, willing myself to wake up
It
wasn't until I was inside that I thought that maybe she had gotten to him
first. The suite looked in perfect order.
Mr.
Fierro appeared as if he was still sleeping, a red rose was resting underneath
his hand, the thorns digging into his palm. His eyes opened before I could even
touch him.
“What did you do to me—“
“It's Rosalie", I said, ". . .She’s trying to kill me. I don't know it's like she has lost her mind. She poisoned us”
The door that connected the rooms began to jump on it's hinges, he left my side to put on his jacket. T
He puts his jacket on cause Essex’s gun is in there. It’s one of those things where I wrote this chapter 1st and I was like . . . he needs to get a gun from somewhere so that’s why Essex gives him one.
“What am I supposed to do, she’s my daughter”
“I think she stopped being your daughter a long time ago.”
Or two days ago.
“Stop saying that. . . you don’t know anything about her"
"I should have told you sooner"
"Told me what ?", I said
moving the dresser in front of the door.
"Essex. . . told me I had to kill Rosalie, it's not Victor you're
protecting her from it's me."
"But. . . she can't die", I said remembering the bridge incident.
"Which makes this that much harder."
Bantery
bantery ?
"Then there is something else I should tell you."
"What else ?", he said with the smallest hint of sarcasm
Do
you really need her to tell you, you idiot ?
" I read in one of those books that modern forensic proved The Bourdeaux
family all died from being beheaded. . . by a cleaver . . . alive"
So
Victor is going to behead them. It’s murder French Style
The dresser toppled over the door knob had been hacked off, the sharp glinting
end of a sharpened cleaver slicing through.
HERE’S ROSEY
We both looked at each other and mouthed the same word
“Run”
+++
She gave the shell, the physical being that had been her child, one last look before disappearing down the hall. She expected me to follow but I didn't
The door opened and the girl curiously peeked in, growing with frustration that her mother was not there. Carefully on her heels she turned to face me.
This is the first time they are alone together.
I fumbled for Essex's pistol in my jacket.
“You wouldn’t”, the first words she said to me
I couldn't. . . not yet.
But I would. . . I convinced myself.
She relaxed and smiled.
"Follow me", she said
She
moved from the door way and out into the hall.
Finally something stepped out from the shadows.The figure grew as it became closer and clearer. He was dressed darkly his eyes dimming with lost regret. He stepped closer to the girl and I could see they shared the same smile.
They share the same smile ? She IS Victor’s daughter.
"Hello, Addison", the apparition said.
“Leave her alone, Victor”
His figure moved closer to the girl and he looked proudly down at her
“I’ll do it Victor. . . I will kill her”
"Oh, but you can't. At least not yet. We don't want Mommy to miss this do we Rosalie ?"
There was nothing transparent or clairvoyant about him , he appeared as human as she did. I finally had a grip on the pistol I believed if I pulled the trigger all would be right. I heard the gun go off and felt the pressure.
See, how could I not use the word corporeal more here ?
Um, more importantly Mr. F just shot a little girl. Oh, dear.
My
eyes opened to see Rosalie lying face down on the ground her dark hair laid out
around her, in her hand she clutched the doll wearing the green and yellow
dress from the vision I had years ago.
See this is the vision he had the night Rosalie was born.
The
girl let out a low whine and sat up, removing the silver bullet from her dress.
Apart from a small hole in the fabric she remained relatively unharmed. Through
the torn fabric a darkening trail of old bruises were visible on her arms
"That hurt Mr. Fierro", she said, "Why did you hurt me ?"
I’ve said this before but originally she says
“That hurt, Daddy”
And Victor says
“Isn’t she precious”
So we don’t know who she was calling Daddy.
“Quiet”, I shouted to her
“Go ahead, try to kill her”, Victor’s voice was smooth and calm it felt like decades since I’d heard it, “you know she can’t die. Not like this. Besides this isn’t how I want to play”
“This isn’t about her…
He collected the girl in his arms , kissing the side of her face, it made her laugh. He set her down and stepped back.
Yeah, Victor gets sort of pedo-creepy in this.
“That is where you are wrong. Rosalie is as much mine as she is that bitch's."
He doesn’t originally say bitch here.
"Victor what have you done ?"
"That is none of your concern", he said, "Just know that come sunset somebody will leave this hotel dead.", he leaned towards Rosalie and whispered to her, "Mommy's playing hide and seek , Rosie, let's see who can find her first.”'
+++
I hid in an open room finally able to catch my breath. Scrambling to put my thoughts together.
I let out a short scream when I heard a gun going off. I was shaking both in and outside my own skin. Yet, I felt oddly calm knowing I would never see Rosalie again but at the same time it made me feel sad.
We could start over if he killed her, I would be okay wouldn’t I?
Oh, Clara
I slipped into the closest room to catch my breath.
I listened at the door pressed myself closer when my hair caught on to something. I was being pulled back. I tripped and was being dragged on my heels. My hair was being painfully pulled upwards. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I saw my hair was caught on a low hanging ceiling fan.
Hey, just like the doll in chapter 3
My hair had wrapped around one of the fans and I began to whimper in pain while trying to untangle it.
My
skin shivered as a section of my hair not caught on the fan appeared to blow on
it’s own accord wrapping around my neck. I started pulling at my hair pulling
and ripping it out.
The
fan slowly started to move which paled in comparison to the fact I was chocking
ON HER HAIR. I reached out with my foot to knock the table over
to reach a pair of scissors on the table. I caught my ankle around the
vanity hooking the scissors over the tiny heel on my shoe.
I reached down for the scissors and began chopping at my hair while the ceiling fan began to speed faster. the scissors were dull and my vision blurred. The pressure began to relive, I snipped my hands a few times digging into thick natural curl my hair had fallen into.
So, now Clara’s hair is short. Maybe barley shoulder length.
I stabbed my hand again before cutting a final strand and fell face first into the ground.
+++
Kill the girl
Kill the girl, Addison
She’s not a real child.
She’s a principle a means to Victor’s end.
I was now set on finding Ms. DeLune first. If Victor couldn't find her that would give me time to figure things out or at the least to escape. The girl had remained paralyzed in the hall and if Victor was planning something he had nothing against waiting.
In
the distance I heard something hit the floor. A dim light shown through
one of the rooms in the hall. There I found her lying on the floor in a room I
was certain had not been there before.
“Did you . ..”, she tried to breath
"No"
We could both hear footsteps in the distance.
“Why not”
Mr. F : You know why not
"Stay out of sight for now"
"Why ?"
"If Victor doesn't have all his players then he can't play his game"
So, Vics not going to get Axe crazy unless they are ALL there. So they Mr. F wants to keep Clara hidden.
"We have to get out of here."
"No, there might be another way."
"I'm not going to hide waiting for her to kill me."
"Stay out of sight"
"No. I'm leaving"
I pushed open the wardrobe in the corner and forced her against her will into it. She was willful and stabbed me in the arm with the scissors in her hand. She pulled it out reaching to stab me again, a blossom of blood running through the fabric. I backed her into the wardrobe with one final push she fell inside.
She started to scream as I closed the door. To be careful I turned the key in the lock, when the lock clicked she began to protest.
She continued screaming, but it was for her own good.
+2+
I stopped screaming it was pointless.
I was locked in a wardrobe , only inches away from the ghostly facade of my dead grandmother.
Oops
I knew I was going to faint, she kept looking at me eye to eye not blinking.
"Lucie”, my throat was harsh from screaming “I just want to die"
“I know”, she spoke to me.
“Are you here to take me.”
She shook her head and looked to the back of the wardrobe and beckoned for me to follow her.
I reached for the back of the wardrobe but felt a blank space as I crawled further towards the back. Instead of a backing it was an empty space. I crawled through the darkness till I was back at home.
OMG, it’s like Narnia. LiLe you totally plagiarized Narnia.
I was in my family’s living room but it was dark. I felt as if I was unaware as if I were a ghost in my own home. I clutched my hands bleeding from the scissors.
She’s still holding the scissors.
The door opens and mother and father walked in. I heard a low cry and saw Rosalie’s old bassinet in the living room. I could hear Nanny Ella upstairs tending to Clarence. Without pictures of Rosalie when she was younger I had forgotten how innocent she used to look.
Clara has no baby pictures of Rosalie.
My mother and father walked in.
“Martin, please”, my mother said
“Get to bed, dear”, Father said strictly, "I'll take care of this"
Mother
climbed the steps and I recognized the outfit she had worn the day
Rosalie had been born.
Father peered at Rosalie in her bassinet, he picked up her new pink baby blanket and folded it twice. Then he carefully let it fall over her face, pressing the cloth over her mouth and nose.
"No", I shouted
I
stood there there knowing there was nothing I could do to stop him, this
was the past.
The minutes ticked by and he bent down low, disappointed to see she was still breathing. He tried again with little success.
I watched carefully as he tried night after night to suffocate her, I began to become aware of Lucie by my side.
My feet were wet and I was standing in my home bathroom, the clawfoot tub was filled with water. I watched as my father gently laid Rosalie in the water waiting and still nothing.
He realized he couldn’t kill her so he would spend his life making sure she knew what a curse she was on our family.
Martin knows to much. . . this is why he can't make it out of the next serial alive.
The scene changed to a slightly older Rosalie, she was maybe 1 or 2, crying at her tea set. She was being loud and it was during one of Father's business meetings.I closed my eyes as he yelled at her and sounds of her tea set spilling to the ground.
He was sure to hit her but not leave a mark.
Hot tears were streaming down my face.
Lucie was no longer by my side and was instead at the empty chair at the tea set. In her hands she had the Raggedy Ann doll and placed the doll in Rosalie's hands.
Lucie
kissed and comforted her in a way an experienced mother would. I tried to
remember where I was why I hadn’t been there to protect her. As long as Rosalie
had Ann, Lucie would always be there to comfort her.
Why hadn't I tried harder to protect her from him ? I had turned away when she needed me most. I was blinded by my own frivolities. To busy mourning over my loss beauty to save my daughter.
I deserved to be ugly.
Hardcore angst.
“Why ?”, I asked to Lucie, “Why would you protect her ?”
“Because It’s my fault. I should have raised Martin better. . . I was so envious of you Clara, I I took my anger out on everyone, but when I saw what my son was doing. I was torn. . . I was angry at you for having her and angry at myself for raising a son like that. Protecting and loving her has made me feel more and more human than anything this terrible existence has granted me.”
Did I redeem her yet ?
We were now in the garden outside the French Monarchy Museum. I watched as Rosalie wondered out of the daycare to where Lucie was sitting. She greeted her with a hug and linger kiss. Lucie knelt down to Rosalie whispering to her.
" It is reaching the end. I can't protect you anymore, Rose. As long as you have this doll I'll always be there. Your mother will protect you. I love you and no matter what remember, you can love ."
,
Rose's eyes filled with tears she didn't quite understand.
So Lucie couldn’t help herself. She had to see her one last time.
"Lucie, Lucie !", Rosalie called.
The police officer came up to her.
"Don't worry", he said, "We'll find Lucie who is she ?"
"My friend. She loves me. I miss her. I love her"
):
The air was cold and I was surrounded by black on both sides. My tears had dried.
"You knew all this was going to happen.", I said
"I tried to stop Addison from coming, I tried but Victor was ruthless."
“I still need your help”, I turned her, “What has Victor done to her ?.”
“Victor has possession of her soul. He knew I was protecting Rosalie and he warned me not to get involved. ”
“Her soul. How ?”
“He took it from her, piece by piece to make himself feel more human, he created a bond with her, his darkness slowly becoming apart of her. Without a soul Rosalie can never die but she can never really live either. . . unless he gives it back to her, which he won't."
"Why would he do this"
"It's our nature. At first you want to be human again, as you know. Then you realize being a Spectre has it's advantages. You're not human--you're superhuman. The ability to create chaos, to torment, to haunt to kill. It can be gravitating"
"Was that not enough for him ?"
"What we are is not science, Sweetheart. No one knows anything. We don't have a culture or rules we just are .. . . but Victor being the King knew of what real evil we were capable of. When Victor found out our families were related he decided he had a right over you and Rosalie. A soul of a young innocent child would give him one foot in our world and one in yours Taking her youth and wide eyed optimism from her before she was born. All while still punishing you with whatever was left."
Pretty much moral of this whole thing. The point I was trying to build to.
“How do I get my daughter's soul back ?”
“You can’t just make a soul. . . but you can give her another one”
Her eyes darkened while I anticipated my next questions.
“What do I have to do.”
“Give her yours.”
“Won’t that mean I’ll never die”
Her touch was cool, as I turned to look at her. I realized I didn't have a choice and I didn't want one. I do would anything for Rosalie now.
“What do I have to do”, I repeated
“The most soulless thing there is to do-”
“Murder”
So there was so much “Soul” talk in LL that I wanted to further explore that here. The idea that murder could be such a powerful thing. All horror films and psychological thrillers are all based around the idea that murder is the most inhuman thing you can do.
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