Entry #21: Cue the Sun, Part Three (WORD COUNT: 2035)
I am STARVING. I started writing this late into the night, but didn't finish it. No problem, I woke up around ten to finish it. And am I finished? No. Gah. So I will be only posting the part that I've written here (the one including the prompt) and then continue. I'm eager to write more, and since I have two weeks break... YAY. Anyway, I will keep posting as I go along, so keep checking! Not sure if I would enter the next brigits_flame contest with a CTS story, but you never know.
Cheers to the final week of the 2009 BF's contest! The prompt used was 'scratch'.
-joy
PS. If you have not read the previous parts, here are the links to it. Although, I think they would do fine as a stand-alone. Also, sorry about the indentation! Still haven't figured how to fix it, in case you haven't noticed.
Part one: http://pauljoy.livejournal.com/5287.html
Part two: http://pauljoy.livejournal.com/5812.html
Ethan - Present
I dreamed of a world without me.
I knew I wasn’t really there. I was a ghost in this dream; I was virtually nonexistent. And yet, I stood in the middle of a familiar field - our field, I realized. My head turned this way and that; I was excited. She had to be here somewhere…
There she was! I spotted Marigold’s head, half-hidden behind the tall harvest. Her head was bowed down, and she appeared to be reading a book out loud. Traces of words floated back to me, and I moved in closer to hear her voice.
A wave of familiarity washed over me. It was as if I had not heard her voice in years. I eagerly dropped down to her side, watching her face. Her eyes were closed, but I had a feeling that even if they were open, she wouldn’t be able to perceive me. It did not matter.
I paid no attention to her words. It was a luxury just being able to see her face, hear the inflections in her voice…
“Needed to be fixed, no one beside her
She sat alone in the middle of a cornfield.”
She was no different from yesterday. Reflected from the setting sun, the golden strands of hair were flecked with deep crimson. Her eyes were cast down, and I longed for her to raise her head. My gaze descended to her blouse. It had a plunging neckline that made my breath catch.
It was a wonder how I had forgotten this field, the sound of her voice...
“A book in her hands, a determined glance.”
It was enough to drive me crazy. I looked around me, searching. Maybe I could use something to grab her attention?
“She’s here to bring him back
Bring him back
From the Beyond and the Unknown.”
I broke off from my search, a chill creeping across the back of my neck. I made an involuntary glance up at the sky before turning to her. The world had suddenly grown dark, the wind blowing harshly.
Marigold had finally raised her head, and I almost wished she didn’t. She was shouting her words now; a voice I did not recognize projected from her. It wasn’t in any language I knew. I concentrated, trying to figure out what had caused the abrupt change.
It was then that I saw her eyes. They were not the ones I had always envisioned the moment before I slept - bright green - but instead they were an intense shade of violet.
***
I abruptly woke up, gasping for breath.
I reached for the lampshade beside me, the room suddenly lighting up. Swallowing, I pulled the scratchy blanket off of me. My first instinct was to go straight to the kitchen and down the first bottle I could find. Unfortunately, my memory had caught up with me. I remembered that I was currently residing in LOIS, and not my home. Short for the Laboratory of Intellectual Science, it was an underground organization focused on the research of Magic.
I shook my head. Instead, I headed for the small pile of belongings I had brought with me. I pulled on the jacket that I had carelessly draped over my suitcase a few hours ago.
I locked my room behind me, wondering where to go. I started walking in one direction, heading for the elevator door. Later on today, I was subjected to a meeting with Dr. Remnick, the scientist in charge of the organization. I was determined to get my questions answered there. An empty hallway stretched past closed doors; streaks of moonlight appearing behind barred windows. I shivered, feeling as if I was a prisoner myself…
My thoughts immediately lead back to Marigold. How --? What --? I wanted to ask her everything that had happened to her leading up from that night. How could she be here, out of all places? I punched a button in the elevator, not caring where it landed. The door smoothly slid shut.
I pressed a fist firmly on my forehead. It was the first time I’ve seen Marigold in over a decade. I had searched for her in every moment of my waking life after that night, all to no avail. I had not expected to see her here, not like this. I felt the cool wall touching my back, and let myself slide down it.
I desperately needed answers, but how to get it?
Watching the yellow light flash one by one as the numbers went down, I had an idea strike me. If I wanted the answers from anybody in particular - anyone who would tell me truthfully - it would be Marigold.
I had to talk to her. Somehow.
Ping. The door opened. I stared at the dim hall beyond it for a few seconds. Then without thinking, I stood up and pushed the button for the last level of the Laboratory. It wasn’t the floor that Mari and the other prisoners were situated; the elevator didn’t reach that far. I had to climb down more stairs for that.
I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to talk to her. I had an odd feeling that the guard whom had given me the tour would be there. Nobody would stop me, I reasoned. After all, the guard did show me the prison level during the tour.
Now that I was determined to see her, my hands were starting to feel clammy. I felt a weird tingling in my throat, something that I had not felt for years. I never got used to Marigold’s presence. I couldn’t quite explain it, but I had always held my feelings responsible.
Ping. The elevator stopped moving, and the door slid open. The antechamber was brilliantly lit, like before. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes, and exited. There were no windows here. I spotted a camera but ignored it. Striding past it, I headed for the only door in the hall, which I knew would lead down to the prison compartment.
I jogged down the stairs, my jacket flapping behind me, and reached the metallic gate. I found the slip of paper in my jacket pocket, and punched in the code.
“Access granted.” A cool, female voice informed me.
The gate slid open, and then I was in.
Marigold - Present
“Stay where you are!”
It was a command. My eyes darted past the shadow outside and cast a fleeting look at Grandma Adelaide. She shook her head slightly, indicating for me to go along with it. They had brought guns this time.
A figure slipped away from the shadows, and took a step nearer. For a moment, my heart skipped. Ethan? It seemed to ask out loud.
I squashed the thought. It was impossible for Ethan to had followed us out here, if he did survive that night…
In any case, Ethan would never touch a gun.
The man stepped towards the light, and I was finally able to perceive him. It was a wonder that we had not realized we were being tracked. He held a rifle in both hands and wore all dark clothing. However we should had been able to discern the strong smell of blood.
This man has killed, I realized.
“Who are you?” he barked. He pointed the gun at Adelaide, and a strangled cry escaped from my throat. I didn’t even take note that this man clearly wasn’t one of them. He bobbed his head at me, “Answer me, now!”
I glanced at Adelaide, and she nodded. A look in her eyes told me I had to tell the truth.
“Marigold,” I said. “And this is my grandmother, Adelaide.”
He stared hard at me, undecided. He still held Adelaide at gunpoint. “You are on private property. Why are you here?”
The words were directed to me, but Adelaide answered instead.
“I apologize,” Adelaide retorted. The man’s head quickly swivelled towards her. “We thought the cabin was abandoned, and did not expect company. I assure you though, that if you do not put that gun down at this moment, you will regret it.”
I gaped at my grandmother. I knew she had guts, but did she really want to die at the hands of a killer?
They locked eyes for a minute. It was to my surprise that the man was the first to pull his eyes away, and lowered down his gun. Adelaide calmly thanked him, but he only grunted in response. He shut the door behind him, and entered the cabin.
“Lovely grandma you got there, kid,” he said to me. He slung the rifle on a hook on the wall, and moved towards me. I made an involuntarily step backwards, but he was only reaching for the fireplace behind me. Throwing in a few logs, the small blaze that we had originally started ate it up greedily. Adelaide had shifted, and pulled me away from him.
“Animal blood,” she whispered in my ear.
Understanding dawned on me. This man was not a killer; he was a hunter.
My eyes searched for the man’s face as he turned around, and held out a large hand.
“I go by the name of Ralph here,” he said. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
***
Footsteps.
My ears perked up suddenly, even in my dreamlike position. I was in the state between dreams and reality, but the unexpected movement cleared my senses immediately. I was alert, even though my eyes were closed.
The footsteps were getting nearer. It would pause occasionally, as if its owner was searching for something, but resume again right after. They were light, quiet thuds, indicating to me that this was not a guard. Who could it be?
A woman beside me moaned in her sleep. The footsteps stopped. They were almost right outside my cell. I shifted my position against the wall to get a clearer view of the intruder, but didn’t dare open my eyes yet.
Half a second passed by, and then -
“Marigold?”
My eyes popped open. I could almost make out a crouched figure in the dim light. The beating of my heart thumped louder, and a small hope entered my mind.
“Ethan?” I said unthinkingly, and then immediately regretted it.
He hesitated. It was definitely Ethan, I thought. I couldn’t smell him from here, in the midst of unwashed women, but I heard that small catch in his voice. My eyes narrowed. I pushed away my earlier hope, and felt myself getting angry.
“What do you want?” I said harshly.
“Mari, I -”
“Don’t call me that,” I interjected. Something pulled at my heart. When was the last time someone had called me Mari?
He moved closer. My eyes had adjusted enough to be able to see his face, and I felt my fingers twitch. Who did he think he was?
Another girl shifted in her sleep. His eyes flitted to the sleeping woman, before whispering, “I don’t understand.”
It was too much. I knew part of the blame lay on me, but I was past reasoning now. My fingers twitched once more, but didn’t answer.
Ethan’s face was inches away from the jail bars. “Mari…” his voice trailed off. When was the last time I imagined his voice? My fingers were itching to touch his face.
His fault, his fault, I repeated to myself.
Prickly hair protruded from his chin. He had grown a beard, an astonished voice said in my mind. I impatiently shoved the thought away.
“That night…” he trailed off again. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mari.”
It happened fast. One moment my fingers were still trembling beneath me, and the next they were past the bars.
Ethan gave a startled cry, and stood up. I had caught him off guard. He lifted a hand to his face, and a trickle of blood escaped from where I had scratched him.
For a second, I heard Adelaide’s voice whispering in my ear.
"Rule number three: do not let your emotions reign, or it will be your last.”
I closed my eyes, and focused, breathing deeply.
“What the hell was that for, Mari?"
My eyes snapped open.
“Trust me,” I growled, my voice low. “If I could do more, I would."
A/N: Apologies to Dani (awkward_ostrich) for the many cliffhangers. I will find a way to end this somehow. Muahaha.