+1+
Noon had come and gone and still Ms. DeLune did not show. Slowly the minute hand worked its way around the face of the clock.
It was 12:30 when she finally appeared in the main lobby. She was out of
breath, her hand securely fastened to her daughter. I had not expected her to
bring the girl with her.
Mr. F: where is Emile
? Can’t he babysit ? This must be how Gatsby must have felt with all the longing.
"I'm sorry, Rosalie was being difficult"
Her eyes were dark and red and I gathered that she had just woken up. I
imagined her lie had something to do with her nightmares but I reminded myself
that that was none of my concern.
"We don't want to be late"
"Of course", she agreed and opened the door to the silent street.
"Are you sure we can trust Mr. Essex"
"No", I said honestly
"Why are you then"
"Because I have nothing to lose"
"But I do", she said quietly
We continued to walk, the direction of the shop burned in my memory from the
map I had studied earlier. After a while I began to watch Ms. DeLune and
Rosalie closely as we walked down the uneven, narrow and seemingly endless
London streets.
The pair walked a few steps ahead of me, her tiny heels making a distant sound
as they hit the ground,Ms. DeLune kept her eyes low, occasionally looking at
something across the street but otherwise she kept looking ahead. It wasn’t
until we turned another corner that I realized what was very
strange about the two.
Rosalie was leading her mother along, almost as if she were attached from a
string. The girl was always one step ahead and ever so often she would tug for
her mother to walk faster and she did, when the girl would slow down so
would she.
I stopped along a wooden footbridge, there were a series of small rundown shops
in the distance. A single sign pointed the way to Coral st. I could see the
bookshop in the distance.
This footbridge come back later.
Ms. DeLune peered over the bridge, loose strands of her hair blowing in the
wind. Below was what must have been a lake had been entirely paved over in
concrete, she started down almost as if transfixed.
The bookshop was the only building not bordered to the
ceiling, there was a small metal engraved sign that hung from the entrance..
The windows were covered in dust leaving nothing to be seen from the outside.
The door was heavily weighted, the interior was octagonal shaped and filled
with bookshelves along the perimeter. Each shelf was filled with old hardcover
books, they appeared to be in color rather than alphabetic order. Hues of red
and dark green were at the bottom followed by black and deep blues.
The center of the room was empty except for a set of long tables for reading
and studying. A few steps from the entrance was a woman behind a desk, she
looked up as we entered but did not speak.
“I’m here to see Mr. Essex. . . about the shop”
“You're early”, she said, I recognized her voice from the telephone.
"I wanted to be sure he was here"
"Just a minute" She said walking back towards an office whose
large windows were covered by a dark purple curtain.
Ms. DeLune and Rosalie had begun to look at a section of children’s books, I
tried to catch her attention but she was listlessly watching her daughter.
"Essex will see you now", the woman said taking her seat back at the
desk.
The man called Essex was seated behind his desk, he was dressed casually with a
full beared and small eyes hidden behind a pair of large glasses. Despite his
modest appeal the man appeared to be intimidating. His expression changed to a
light hearted one.
"You're not here about buying the shop, are you", he said with full
confidence
"No"
“Well then I’ve been very interested to meet you for a long time.
“The pleasure is all mine”, I said, "Though, you knew I was coming"
"I think I did. All I know for sure is we were supposed to meet."
"How is that possible."
"Past, present, future it is all irrelevant to them", his eyes
cast upwards in no particular direction.
"Who is them ?"
The Spectres.
“Let me see your hand”, he said suddenly
I gave him my right hand,He turned my palm over running a hand over it
“You don’t have a life line”, he said quizzically
Odd. I mean you have
to have a life line in order to die.
“Nonsense”
“If you thought this nonsense you wouldn’t be here”
"Mr. Essexs,t his is about the book you wrote 20 years ago. The ideas are
original. Where did you get them from. So much detail and confidence."
"It's all speculation", he said
"I'd rather not continue this game. I just want to know if you can help me
with a Spectre ?"
Oh, here is where I
changed the spelling.
"Such evil things you speak of, not the most evil but still", he
shuddered and moved from behind his desk.
Now, children without
souls. Those are evil.
"There must be something you can do to help."
"Where I get my information from has been silence for years. . . besides I
can't trust you"
"Why is that ?", I asked wondering if I should get my checkbook
He walked around the large desk and opened the blinds and pulling back the
curtain. For a while he glanced over the shop.
Essex walked along his office opening each window and peering out it for some
time before continuing to the next window.
“You are to close to such evil things”
"Not by choice", I said regarding Lucie.
He’s not talking about
Lucie. He's talking about the evil souless child. I should have called DSI Souless. can I do that ?
"You had a choice", he said
“Pardon me ?”
Essex hoevered by the door as he walked past me there was a faint smell of
alcohol and I began to wander if the man was a drunk.
“Something evil is in my shop. . . ", he said
“You must be mistaken”
The glass window cracked down the center and the entire shop was filled with a
piercing scream. It was her.
Rosalie followed by her mother.
Essex opened the door to his office, the undeniable smell of burned
flesh wafted in from the shop. A large book shelf had toppled over the
sending books haphazardly tossed across the floor.
Rosalie was crying and clasping her right hand, Ms. DeLune appeared concerned
about her but the minute Ms. DeLune's eyes meet Essex's there was a
slight air of recognition.
So, Essex was the creeper she met at the museum.
“The girl”, Essex whispered and in an instant he was at the girl’s side
attempting to violently to pull her away from her mother.
“leave her alone”, Ms. DeLune had her daughter other hand pulling her away from
the man . Essex was no more than six feet tall, he was strong and steady.
However in a manner of seconds he had been forced across the room,
crashing into one of his own book shelves causing rows of hardbacks to fall on
him.
Logic : So LiLe whats
going on here ?
Rule of Creepy ? That telekinesis I never talk about just keeps popping up. I wish I had explored this more.
I rushed over to Essex as his assistant attempted to move the heavy books. The
room shook slightly and another row of books feel on top of him.
We quickly dug him out, his glasses were smashed and cut into his skin.
"That child", he said trying to push away from the pile of books, his
face had been bludgeoned by the hardcovers "You. . . you can't. ..
let that kind of thing live. . . You can't.. ."
"What ? what is it ?"
"You want to be saved ? You want answers."
"Yes"
"Then you can't let her live. . .You have to kill the girl and
save both of yourselves."
Ms. DeLune's reasoning had been almost correct. It was not by chance we had met
it was fate. Victor was not to kill her daughter in 3 days.
I was.
DUN DUN DUN. So this is part of Victor's plan. He is going to have Mr. F kill Rose.
+2+
I heard the ambulance in the distance and left the shop following Ms. DeLune
down the street. She was walking very fast and at the next corner placed her
daughter down and began chiding for her to keep up, but the girl stopped in the
middle of the footbridge and continued staring at her burnt hand
This
is like the third chided spotting. I use it ironically
When Ms. DeLune realized Rosalie had not followed her I had caught up them.
Even from a distance it was obvious that the little girl’s hand was severely
burned as if she had touched fire.
“Stay away from me. . . from us”, she said peering at the eroded concrete below
the bridge, "That man is insane"
“What happened to her hand”
“She must have touched a candle”
"I certainly don't recall any candles”
“Well, there must have. . . I doubt. . . well”, She looked up at me, she was
lying just as she had earlier, “It must have been an allergic reaction because
she touched… a book”
“Was it a bible ?
Um, yes
“Honestly, how can you say such things.”
“Essex believes there was something. . . . not right about her.”
“As I already said he is insane.”
“Is he ? She scares you doesn’t she”
“Shut up”. I wondered if she was afraid the girl could hear her.
“Listen to me, Ms. DeLune”
She turned away attempting to control her anger or to divulge further into her
own denial
I don’t know what came over me, but I suddenly wanted to prove it to her, or
more so I wanted to prove it to myself that Essex was right. I just needed the
girl. She sensed I had taken hold of her daughter and immediately reached for
the girl again and took her back.
“leave us alone”, she attempted to strike and push me away and some ill placed
rage inside of me became very angry.
She
almost slapped him
I suddenly had both of her frail wrist in my hand, I could feel the bones
beneath the thin skin move and contract as I grasped her harder.
That was a trigger and she instantly began to fight back attempting to push me
farther and farther away and over the bridge, the heel of her shoe digging into
mine. The rusted railing of the bridge began digging through my jacket if I
were to lose my balance I would certainly fall to my death.
Okay, these two are fighting over a bridge that has
pavement below it. Holy Crap, it seems like Clara is trying to push him off the bridg.
Self preservation however had the advantage and I forcefully
pushed her away from me, she lost her balance and hit the other side of the
bridge, it happened so quickly that her daughter rushed to prevent her mother
from falling , however she didn’t see the girl behind her. They both fell
on to the hard cobblestone footbridge.
Wait, Rose fell over while trying to catch Clara after Mr. F pushed her. That's kind of sweet in a super messed up way.
Unfortunately Ms. DeLune's fall knocked Rosalie over the edge of the
bridge, silently the girl slipped and disappeared over the railing
and 45 feet down below.
Ms. DeLune's eyes were wide, she looked very ill her eyes closed when she heard
the cement below crack underneath the girl's weight.
"Oh, God", she whispered
I began or tried to speak but words were lost to me.
Ms. DeLune dragged herself on her knees till she was able to stand up, the
stones had cut deep marks into her knees. She attempted to walk a few steps
before balancing herself and walking with wounded knees to the ground below.
I should have followed her but I didn't--couldn't. Could it have really been
that simple ? Should I not have felt guilt or shame at the least disgusted with
myself ? Although it had been an accident. . .hadn't it ?
I forced myself to look from the top of the bridge at the small undefined
body of the girl lying below. She had fallen on her back. Her face covered in
blood. I simply could not tear my eyes away from her. The more I concentrated
on her I could see the girl's eyes blinked in a steady mechanical rhythm.
No.
Absured
Impossible
Her strangely colored eyes blinked again and her hand began to rub them, as if
she had awoken from a nap and not a deathly fall.
Mr.
F : But other than that she is kind of cute. You know I wonder if . . .
Carefully she lifted her upper body and turned to open her arms to her tear
stained mother.
I immediately went back to the bookshop and found Essex's assistant still
helplessly trying to unbury him from the weight of the books. He didn't appear
surprised that I had come back.
"Tell me what you know", I pleaded
Essex eyed his assistant whom unwilling stepped away.
"I told you what I know. . . you must kill that thing that appears
to be a human child"
"Why ?"
"I don't know"
"Who tells you these things ?"
"He used to", Essex pointed to a small portrait of a man above
the book shelves, I recognized the figure as Victor's uncle, "not anymore
though. . . he has been silent for so long. . . now I just see things and
usually they happen."
"What else have you seen ?"
"All I know is her death will make you and the mother very happy", he
went in and out of consciousness, "hand me that box",
Essex's indicated a cherry oak box on the top shelf.
With only his legs now constrained by the books he opened the box sliding out a
silver derringer pistol, which he pressed into my hands.
I was hesitant and he caught on.
"You have questions, Mr. Fierro this is your answer.. . "
"There must be another way"
"Let her die", he said
Before I could ask another question the shelf he was supporting himself on fell
with full force on him. He groaned beneath the shelf his hand reaching for the
surface.
" You must go. . . go", Essex voice as muffled beneath the heavy
shelf, " You're running out of time"
The bright lights of the ambulance shone trough the dusty windows, his
assistant beckoned me out the back door.
The weight of the pistol was heavy in my pocket, time however was beginning to
weigh more.
+3+
Clara
I was out of breath when I reached the sidewalk down below, the streets were
once again empty and no one had seen her fall and that was what I kept
repeating to myself.
No one saw her fall.
What fall ?
She hadn't fallen
Yes, that would do.
See how that denial
works.
I had already taken a handkerchief from my purse and began dabbing the blood
away from her face, in case anyone were to walk by.
I was shaken and looked up to the now empty bridge she had fallen from. It was
so high and yet she appeared just .. . fine ?
No that it mattered because she had not fallen.
So this isn’t the first
time this has happened. Clara has known for sometime that despite some terrible
falls Rose has taken she’s never been hurt.
“Mommy”, she said, “my hand still hurts”
"I know", I said.
It took nearly an hour for me to find my way back to the hotel, most of the
time I was lost in thought.
Once arriving at the St.Mark I wanted to go to back to my hotel room and hope
this was some terrible dream, everything about that terrible bookshop seems to
have resonated with me. I had recognized this Mr. Essex as the man from the museum.
The man was clearly obsessed with Bordeaux family, it was no wonder they told
him things.
I didn't feel like carrying Rosalie up the hotel stairs so I settled for
sitting outside in the small garden in the outside atrium of the hotel. Rosalie
was still asleep and I ordered chamomile tea, hoping it would calm me down.
After a while I heard someone approach me from behind. I didn't look up as Mr.
Fierro sat across from me. He noticed Rosalie was still with me but sat across
from me anyway. I turned away as he began to speak. He placed both hands on the
table and kept waiting for me to look up at him, but I never did.
“Ms. DeLune do you not feel there is something different about your daughter.”
Mr. F : You know like how she fell from 50 feet into stone and survived.
“No”, I said defensively.
#DeLuneSchoolofDenial
“She scares you doesn’t she ? You know there is something wrong”, he
appeared to be choosing his words carefully.
What she wanted to say
was : Look this whole creepy soulless child needs to die. I don’t know why but
I really wants some answers so I’m going to need you to be okay with this.
“Stop it”
“She fell off a bridge for Godsakes, she should have died”
“I don’t know what you are talking about”
“Why are you being so defensive ?”
I could feel the tears beginning to form, I tried to hold it in but my emotions
were to true.
“She’s my child”, I said
"That is irrelevant--"
“Not it's not. She’s the only child I’ll ever have. I'm supposed to
protect her from everything, she is my only chance.”
He looked to me for an explanation and I calmly explained
“My family wanted my baby born at home, everything was fine at first. . . but
there were terrible complications."
I started to feel physically ill just remembering the terrible night I had
giving birth to her, A small part of me was glad I would never have to go
through it again but at the same time it made me feel so empty inside. I was more
than capable of loving another child, or at least a second chance at carrying
one.
):
So, this is me hinting at Clara being unable to have another child because of complications from Rose's birth.
I looked over at Rosalie's perfectly unbruised skin, dust from the cement was
still stuck to her tights and dress.
“If there were to be something wrong, what do you think is wrong with my
daughter, Mr. Fierro”
Clara : Because I’m
running out of ideas here. I just need to pretend she is normal because she is
the only child I’ll ever have. I mean I guess she is kind of adorable . . .
“Essexs wasn't specific but I have been doing some thinking. Perhaps It’s not
her. Perhaps it is what she is ?”
I considered his words as Rose began to stir in her sleep, I was certain she
would not wake for at least another hour.
“What is she then ?”
Is that a Red Herring I see?
LiLe : Kind of ? In chapter 4 it mentions that because Lucie has been a specter for so long she has almost become corporeal. So in chapter 4 and in chapter 6 Lucie is able to touch Mr.F and he feels how cold she is. This makes him think there is a way for the dead and living to touch one another.
“Not human maybe, not entirely”, he waited for me to speak, I remained
silent, “Your silence betrays you, you’ve had your suspicions.”
"No”, I said quietly.
For the first time he seemed to be considering his words closely.
“She appears half alive. . . half human. . . half Spectre, perhaps ?”
Not once did his emotions betray him.
“I-I don’t see how”, I said into my tea
“Of course you wouldn’t”,
I kept my eyes down, I didn’t like where this conversation was going.
Clara : Is he seriously implying that I slept with a Ghost and don’t remember ?
LiLe : I don’t know,
wouldn’t it have been kind of awesome if Rosalie was half-Spectre and Mr. F really died at the end of HOF. Then in this installment Spectre!Fierro could be looking for
a way to be human again.
Clara : And how would
that go ?
LiLe : I don’t know. . . which is why he
survived. Anywho because I love me some Victor I really wanted Rose (Through
immaculate conception) to be Victor and Clara’s but I couldn’t write
myself all the way through it.
“Sometimes”, he began to look more aimlessly in front of him, ”sometimes
I see her at random moments just standing there starting at me. . . watching
me. .. it’s like this dead thing is following me.”
Oh no, it’s not like a
dead person IS following you
He took a breath and faced me.
“She seems so real to me, not like when we were together though . . . before
and after. . . but close. She is always either too young or too old for my
memories.”
He took another breath and blinked realizing he had gotten off topic and
continued.
“What I mean to say is Lucie is real. Ghost are real and often times I can feel
her lay against my shoulder or her hand on mine. It’s very light but I wouldn’t
deny the power of such para-physical touch. “ at his last words his
fingers slightly grazed my lips before pulling away.
Tomas : Lip touching is my thing
LiLe : Seriously
“How can you be so plain with me ?”, I asked my voice shaking
“I can be very blunt as well, perhaps this is why Victor wants her dead, family
curse as it were”
Clara : What? Now he thinks Ghost!Victor is her father ?
LiLe : Well I mean it would explain why he wants her dead. That Essex guy
mentioned that it was time for another Bordeaux to die as per the curse.
Clara : Hmm that does
make sense
“I don't want to talk about this anymore”
“Denial is worthless, Ms. DeLune”
LiLe : You are really
one to speak. I mean her name is ROSE. SHE HALF ALBINO. I CAN'T EVEN ! IDIOT BALL.
“I beg to differ”
"Is that how you live now ? In denial of everything"
"You really are one to speak. I don't want to talk about this"
"I'm simply trying to make this easier on you, to help you see
that--"
"I don't want to hear this"
I was suddenly on my feet, carrying Rose back inside hotel. I didn’t want to
listen anymore. Unlike Mr. Fierro I knew I could not rely on anyone else to
solve my problems for me.
+++
I put on some Mozart and began to inspect Rosalie’s burnt hand. I placed some
ice on it and wrapped it in gauze. The mark had spread over her entire balm and
touched her finger but at least she wasn't in pain. She was still asleep, her
ink black curls lay flat on one of the cream colored pillows on the bed. She
had slept through the entire day and I was afraid the pain medication I
had given her was a little strong.
She looked like absolute angel while she slept curling up with her doll.
I had heard the door next to us open and close some time around eight but
didn’t give it much thought.
Rosalie was mine. She was my daughter, my responsibility and I decided nothing
and certainly no one else mattered.
LiLe : I thought you didn’t like her
Clara : What is wrong with you ? She is the only baby I’ll have. Yes; she scares me, she bites, throws tantrums, might be eveil and breaks everything just look at her sleeping… so cute. People sleep most of their lives anyway right ? I can’t let Victor or HIM to take her away.
Ms. 3 : Pffft. Men !
In my mind I had already planned for the two of us to leave tomorrow morning.
We could go somewhere far away where no one would be able to find us.
I just had to find out where that place was
My heart, I decided, would be less heavy now that I knew he was still alive but
I knew for my own sanity that it would be best for us to part for good.There had to be some place complelty off the grid where Rosalie and I
could just be.
“Mommy ?”, Rosalie sat up suddenly, looking slightly less angelic.
“Go back to sleep, Rose"
“Who will take care of me when you die ?”
This again.
“By that time you will be old enough to take care of your self”
“No I won’t”, she shouted sliding away from me climbing down from the bed
I decided to ignore her and took her spot on the bed, she was going to be up
all night now.
“Tell me”, she shouted again
"Rose, I'm trying to get some sleep. We have to leave in the
morning."
Clara : Uh, you would
have thought someone told her that she can’t die or something. And that if I
die young she’ll be left alone with my mean abusive father. *Sigh*
There was a crash and I smelled the thick odor of my new perfume, followed by
what sounded like the mirror cracking.
“Rose”, I shouted
I bolted up and she had taken one of the books I had borrowed from. . . Essex.
. . and thrown it at the mirror followed by another.
I pulled her away from the dresser, I expected her to bite me instead she
grabbed a loose strand of my hair and began to tear out strands. I pushed her
away I felt myself scrap her and I bumped into the dresser.
“Rosalie stop it”, I was begging her now.
Her face was covered in blood again
I was at my wits end and to be honest a little terrified. I grabbed her and
tried to force her into the coat closet when I felt the familiar pain of her
teeth tearing into my skin.I couldn't handle this especially after today. I
slipped put of the room shutting and locking the door behind me.
LiLe :Um, did you try to lock the daughter you just defended into a closet and then go get a drink ?
Clara : Um . . .
One and a half very quick shots of scotch later I could still hear Rosalie
breaking things in the room. The other half of the scotch still splashed around
in the warm glass in my hand. I was trapped between my violent daughter or the
overbearing bartender downs stairs.
I leanded against the wall and listened to her break more items. My hand
reached for the door to my room but it ended up knocking on the one next door.
"Are you ready to be honest ?", his voice was clear and almost
soothing. through the other side of the door.
"You want to know my secrets. . . I will tell you. Everything"
Then tomorrow, I'll be gone.
Make a Free Website with Yola.