Epilogue
[OOC: I hadn't really planned to post this here. This LJ had always been a representation of an IC pen-and-paper journal, and it felt wrong to break that paradigm. But I've decided that I want to share this with more folks than just those who can read the InnLost forums. This scene starts on 1 September 07 and ends sometime before 6 October 07.
As an additional note: I would like to thank Dee for giving me the final segment of this final scene.]
The hungry wood bit deeply into Sarah’s chest, through her unbeating heart, and the dim reality of the world slipped away, rent asunder by ancient pact of nature and gods to reveal the whispy realm of torpor.
Michael loomed over her, as tall and broad as a house as he finished shoving the tree through her, an insane smile of fangs ripping his twisted face in two as he let out a laugh, fetid remains of a thousand feedings pungent on his stagnant breath. “You told me the lies of a ghost! You deny my rights as an adopted Gangrel! And you call yourself Hope?!? Ha!” A huge, blood glob formed in his mouth, and with mad glee he spat the whole horrific mess at her, drowning her helpless body in a century of stolen life and broken dreams.
The sickly redness washed away as she surfaced from the lake, looking at Joe with anger, shaking water from her fur as she reached the shore, words flowing from her lupine maw as it dripped with the last red tinges. “What the hell was that for?” Joe looked down at her like a father at a wayward child, and shook his head. “Sometimes to learn to swim, you gotta jump in.” He sighed sadly, producing a slim and well-worn shaft of wood from behind his back. Stains highlighted the grain to an impossible degree, and Hope couldn’t tear her yellow eyes from it as her mentor, her friend, her beloved said, “An’ sometimes, you gotta learn your place.” A swift motion later, and her world spun, twisting…
…and reformed in a whirlwind, the trees and grasses passing by as her legs carried her with impossible speed, but not, she knew fast enough. A glance over her shoulder showed the truth of the situation, as a wolf that would have outmassed any grizzly closed on her. Every trick she could use, every power of the blood, every last bit of speed she could urge out of dead tissue fell just short of the mark, and she could feel the hot breath on her tail. Another look back froze her soul: the eyes of the beast, the eyes of this ravenous frenzied thing were the gentle, soft green orbs of Shane. When his jaws clamped around her neck, there was sadness in those eyes as he bit down hard, and she could almost here a whisper of something as she fell to dust: “I love you, Sarah….”
Slip did the deed next, using the bow that she had watched Hope carefully craft for the whole of her vampiric existence, an expert shot with perfect form as she said, “I learned it all from your journals, thanks.” Thomas de Blanc watched with approval as Hope pitched backward with an arrow through her chest.
Vedis wasted no time with stakes; his claws tore her to bits as he said in dangerous low tones, “Shouldn’t have taken my fucking place.” From just behind him, Belle watched and shook her head sadly, reaching to pick up the ash-covered pack necklace before it could hit the ground.
And Cougar - Regina, whom she had called Alpha - wrapped Dallas’ rosary around Hope’s neck and pulled, the beads falling away from the razor-sharp wire that sliced through throat and spine like a hot knife through butter. An incredibly soft whisper graced Hope’s last inhumanly sharp moment of hearing: “His final message was that he wants you to join him. Goodbye, Hope.”
Where time has no hold, fear and sorrow reign.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"There's a hole in the middle of her chest,
There's a hole in the middle of her chest,
There's a hole in the middle
There's a hole in the middle
There's a hole in the middle of her chest."
Amber - all of five years old and the favored of the Wren clan children - had started the song, and all the other children had joined in. She had done so after turning into something big and hairy and almost the size of an adult, and shoving the sharpened stick right into the heart of her little cousin Sarah, who found herself pinned to a tree at the edge of the clearing. Amber wasn't big and furry anymore, but the song was working on Sarah's last nerve.
"When I get unstuck from here, you're in trouble!" she called out, her voice only slightly distorted by the fangs in her little mouth.
"Shut up!" Amber shouted back. "You're staked, so you're not allowed to talk!"
Sarah growled silently to herself as the children giggled and then dived into another verse of the song:
"There's a stake in the hole in the middle of her chest
There's a stake in the hole in the middle of her chest..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the thousandth time, someone - a friend, an ally, an enemy, a sister or brother - thrust a shaft of wood through Hope's torn and battered heart. For the thousandth time, she struggled and strained to no avail, trying to get to her goal. She needed to talk to Cait, it was urgent, vital, critical, she knew as her world twisted again and she tried to negotiate a changed landscape to find her... only to have yet another stake driven into her chest, as frustration and madness roiled in her torpor-fevered mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In time - Days? Years? Minutes? It was impossible to tell, though it seemed an eternity - Hope's dream changed. Gone was the desperate desire to speak to Cait MacGregor, the mission forgotten, the need lost somewhere on the shores of an endless grey sea.
Clarity had passed as well. No longer was there anything so clear as the series of endless assaults, each felt keenly in her thousand's times pierced breast. The world was now one of shifting greys, seemingly endless in shades and shapes. Here was a rocky cliff, looming out of the mists; there was a forest, but muted, the trees bluring together, light then dark then light again, brief glimpses of half-remembered prey glimpsed beneath the branches.
Yet something - something that had been gradually growing in her not-ears, something that had crept upon her until only belatedly did she even begin to realize what it was - had come to surround her. It was a sound: rushing, puctuated, full of air and motion and swift purpose. It was the sound of the beating of wings.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somewhere, sometime in the endless night, a scream pierced the clouds. This was not a scream of fright, or panic, or terror; not a human sound at all. This was a scream of the hunt - a scream of a raptor.
Looking upwards through the storm-filled skies, she saw a flash, a glint of reflected lightning in the distance... and then, it came into view. Feathers that ranged from black through midnight blue to steel grey, beak and talons sharper than any dagger, eyes that gleamed bright even in the storm. Outracing the driving rain, it came, huge and deadly and perfect, driving straight at her - Falcon driving straight at Sarah's soul.
Talons tore through her skin like mist, seized that which was truly her and then, magnificent wings spread outward as Falcon swept over the rocks below and pulled up, up through the pelting rain and jagged lighting and dense clouds... up above it all, until in a final push it broke through the top of the storm, and the moon shone bright amid the billion stars.
Soaring above the world, Falcon looked upon her, upon the soul that called itself Sarah, and in a swift motion, consumed her... and in doing so, became her.
Sarah... Hope... Falcon soared above the clouds, and smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The path here to this place of light had been long and strange, through soaring skies and terrifying anguish, through visions of life as she had thought it and as it had truly been. She had actually turned away at the last - turned back to the darkness, intent on trying to find - somehow - a way to fulfill the request of the spirits: to somehow let them know about the ruin that Blackenbird would bring down upon the city of Lamar. Even now, now that she knew that she was truly dead, she had clung to that last... hope.
But the final spirit - the one with the daisy, the one that shifted from a little girl into the image of Sarah - offered to take on this final duty, offered to take the words of Sarah to those who would hear them. She passed the small flower, plucked in the ancient game to a single remaining petal, and walked off into the darkness... and Sarah turned and walked into the light.
The Cabin was there, under a warm sun that did not burn but rather kissed Sarah's skin with golden tenderness. Laughter and the smell of fresh-baked bread greeted her as she stepped up onto the well-worn and familiar porch, the scent making her stomach growl as it had not for over a year and a half, and the sound bringing true joy to a heart that had not felt such in her entire life. Barely a knock upon the door brought an answer in the smiling face of Georgia... and then, from farther in the room, he came rushing, the joy in her heart matched on his face as she was swept up into Dallas' arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FIN
As an additional note: I would like to thank Dee for giving me the final segment of this final scene.]
The hungry wood bit deeply into Sarah’s chest, through her unbeating heart, and the dim reality of the world slipped away, rent asunder by ancient pact of nature and gods to reveal the whispy realm of torpor.
Michael loomed over her, as tall and broad as a house as he finished shoving the tree through her, an insane smile of fangs ripping his twisted face in two as he let out a laugh, fetid remains of a thousand feedings pungent on his stagnant breath. “You told me the lies of a ghost! You deny my rights as an adopted Gangrel! And you call yourself Hope?!? Ha!” A huge, blood glob formed in his mouth, and with mad glee he spat the whole horrific mess at her, drowning her helpless body in a century of stolen life and broken dreams.
The sickly redness washed away as she surfaced from the lake, looking at Joe with anger, shaking water from her fur as she reached the shore, words flowing from her lupine maw as it dripped with the last red tinges. “What the hell was that for?” Joe looked down at her like a father at a wayward child, and shook his head. “Sometimes to learn to swim, you gotta jump in.” He sighed sadly, producing a slim and well-worn shaft of wood from behind his back. Stains highlighted the grain to an impossible degree, and Hope couldn’t tear her yellow eyes from it as her mentor, her friend, her beloved said, “An’ sometimes, you gotta learn your place.” A swift motion later, and her world spun, twisting…
…and reformed in a whirlwind, the trees and grasses passing by as her legs carried her with impossible speed, but not, she knew fast enough. A glance over her shoulder showed the truth of the situation, as a wolf that would have outmassed any grizzly closed on her. Every trick she could use, every power of the blood, every last bit of speed she could urge out of dead tissue fell just short of the mark, and she could feel the hot breath on her tail. Another look back froze her soul: the eyes of the beast, the eyes of this ravenous frenzied thing were the gentle, soft green orbs of Shane. When his jaws clamped around her neck, there was sadness in those eyes as he bit down hard, and she could almost here a whisper of something as she fell to dust: “I love you, Sarah….”
Slip did the deed next, using the bow that she had watched Hope carefully craft for the whole of her vampiric existence, an expert shot with perfect form as she said, “I learned it all from your journals, thanks.” Thomas de Blanc watched with approval as Hope pitched backward with an arrow through her chest.
Vedis wasted no time with stakes; his claws tore her to bits as he said in dangerous low tones, “Shouldn’t have taken my fucking place.” From just behind him, Belle watched and shook her head sadly, reaching to pick up the ash-covered pack necklace before it could hit the ground.
And Cougar - Regina, whom she had called Alpha - wrapped Dallas’ rosary around Hope’s neck and pulled, the beads falling away from the razor-sharp wire that sliced through throat and spine like a hot knife through butter. An incredibly soft whisper graced Hope’s last inhumanly sharp moment of hearing: “His final message was that he wants you to join him. Goodbye, Hope.”
Where time has no hold, fear and sorrow reign.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"There's a hole in the middle of her chest,
There's a hole in the middle of her chest,
There's a hole in the middle
There's a hole in the middle
There's a hole in the middle of her chest."
Amber - all of five years old and the favored of the Wren clan children - had started the song, and all the other children had joined in. She had done so after turning into something big and hairy and almost the size of an adult, and shoving the sharpened stick right into the heart of her little cousin Sarah, who found herself pinned to a tree at the edge of the clearing. Amber wasn't big and furry anymore, but the song was working on Sarah's last nerve.
"When I get unstuck from here, you're in trouble!" she called out, her voice only slightly distorted by the fangs in her little mouth.
"Shut up!" Amber shouted back. "You're staked, so you're not allowed to talk!"
Sarah growled silently to herself as the children giggled and then dived into another verse of the song:
"There's a stake in the hole in the middle of her chest
There's a stake in the hole in the middle of her chest..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the thousandth time, someone - a friend, an ally, an enemy, a sister or brother - thrust a shaft of wood through Hope's torn and battered heart. For the thousandth time, she struggled and strained to no avail, trying to get to her goal. She needed to talk to Cait, it was urgent, vital, critical, she knew as her world twisted again and she tried to negotiate a changed landscape to find her... only to have yet another stake driven into her chest, as frustration and madness roiled in her torpor-fevered mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In time - Days? Years? Minutes? It was impossible to tell, though it seemed an eternity - Hope's dream changed. Gone was the desperate desire to speak to Cait MacGregor, the mission forgotten, the need lost somewhere on the shores of an endless grey sea.
Clarity had passed as well. No longer was there anything so clear as the series of endless assaults, each felt keenly in her thousand's times pierced breast. The world was now one of shifting greys, seemingly endless in shades and shapes. Here was a rocky cliff, looming out of the mists; there was a forest, but muted, the trees bluring together, light then dark then light again, brief glimpses of half-remembered prey glimpsed beneath the branches.
Yet something - something that had been gradually growing in her not-ears, something that had crept upon her until only belatedly did she even begin to realize what it was - had come to surround her. It was a sound: rushing, puctuated, full of air and motion and swift purpose. It was the sound of the beating of wings.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somewhere, sometime in the endless night, a scream pierced the clouds. This was not a scream of fright, or panic, or terror; not a human sound at all. This was a scream of the hunt - a scream of a raptor.
Looking upwards through the storm-filled skies, she saw a flash, a glint of reflected lightning in the distance... and then, it came into view. Feathers that ranged from black through midnight blue to steel grey, beak and talons sharper than any dagger, eyes that gleamed bright even in the storm. Outracing the driving rain, it came, huge and deadly and perfect, driving straight at her - Falcon driving straight at Sarah's soul.
Talons tore through her skin like mist, seized that which was truly her and then, magnificent wings spread outward as Falcon swept over the rocks below and pulled up, up through the pelting rain and jagged lighting and dense clouds... up above it all, until in a final push it broke through the top of the storm, and the moon shone bright amid the billion stars.
Soaring above the world, Falcon looked upon her, upon the soul that called itself Sarah, and in a swift motion, consumed her... and in doing so, became her.
Sarah... Hope... Falcon soared above the clouds, and smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The path here to this place of light had been long and strange, through soaring skies and terrifying anguish, through visions of life as she had thought it and as it had truly been. She had actually turned away at the last - turned back to the darkness, intent on trying to find - somehow - a way to fulfill the request of the spirits: to somehow let them know about the ruin that Blackenbird would bring down upon the city of Lamar. Even now, now that she knew that she was truly dead, she had clung to that last... hope.
But the final spirit - the one with the daisy, the one that shifted from a little girl into the image of Sarah - offered to take on this final duty, offered to take the words of Sarah to those who would hear them. She passed the small flower, plucked in the ancient game to a single remaining petal, and walked off into the darkness... and Sarah turned and walked into the light.
The Cabin was there, under a warm sun that did not burn but rather kissed Sarah's skin with golden tenderness. Laughter and the smell of fresh-baked bread greeted her as she stepped up onto the well-worn and familiar porch, the scent making her stomach growl as it had not for over a year and a half, and the sound bringing true joy to a heart that had not felt such in her entire life. Barely a knock upon the door brought an answer in the smiling face of Georgia... and then, from farther in the room, he came rushing, the joy in her heart matched on his face as she was swept up into Dallas' arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FIN