Brilliance
Week two entry for the August contest of brigits-flame. The topic this week?
Brilliance
Look at her, he thought. She looks gorgeous even when stretching up to get a box of cookies. He allowed himself a goofy little grin. He did really love his wife. She was a petite woman with a slim, pale face, brilliant green eyes and thick red hair which tumbled down her back in curls and braids. Her lips were sweet, pink, and seemed to always be wryly smirking, and she had a thin, pointed nose. She was beautiful, and he loved her. They had been together for three years, nary a fight nor a wobble, and as far as he was concerned he was the happiest man alive. He allowed his eyes to stray down her back, past the sliver of waist he could see as she strained upwards, down to--
"Stop perving," he heard her mumble through gritted teeth. Though there was mirth in her voice, he still felt his cheeks grow hot and he did find himself looking elsewhere. Cookies obtained, she let herself drop back down and turned to face him. That wry little smirk. He stuttered.
"Sorry, I, erm..."
She gave a snort of amusement and shoved the box of cookies at him.
"Don't be a dork, Alex," she chastised him, wiggling her behind for emphasis. He grinned at her and went back to the shopping trolley. She followed, linking her little arm into the crook of his as they walked along.
"We're quite a hot couple, you know," she casually remarked, stretching her arm out to trail over the surface of some Pringles tubes. Alex couldn't help but smile.
"I suppose we are...most of which comes from you." At this his wife gasped and then laughed, swatting his arm.
"Oh, come on! Feel that muscle, there!" She squeezed his bicep. "You're a macho man! Grr!" She made a ferocious face and he laughed.
"You've a nerve to call me a dork, Ellen," he chuckled, putting his arm around her and squeezing her a little. She gave a little squeak and sprung away from him.
"Don't squeeze me, I might break under your mighty power! Grr!" and she made that face again. It was so corny, but he just couldn't help but laugh. She was adorable. He gave the trolley a push so it would roll clangerously down the aisle ahead of them, on its own momentum. He bundled her into his arms, cupped her chin and kissed her gently, feeling her giggle, her lips smiling against his, her hands on the small of his back, and the trolley had stopped rolling. He broke away from her with a little frown of confusion, and looked to his right.
It had been stopped by a boot on its axle. The foot belonged to a man, painfully thin, horribly pale, dressed in tight black leather, bronze zips scarring its surface. The man had long, thin, spindly limbs which gave him the loathsome image of a spider. Cobalt blue eyes burned in his white face, which itself seemed to hold an avian quality. For a long moment, Alex could but stare.
And then his feet left the ground. He was forced backwards at impossible speed, and in that split second he thought he was going to be pulverised by the supermarket shelf, but that wasn't there, that had fallen behind him, and the next, and the next, he was flying backwards away from his tiny flame-haired wife and the tall spindly man, and he could see that shelf after shelf was falling on the other side as well, a domino pile-up. With air rushing by his ears, he felt his head connect with the far wall and blackness blotted him out.
He came to a moment later to a fierce pain in his head, and left arm, and side. Crying out, he opened his eyes to find himself shut in on two sides, staring up at a fluorescent light in the ceiling. Slowly he turned his head to the side to find himself staring at a loaf of bread which appeared to have been torn in half, which itself was drenched in a mixture of milk and what smelled like vodka. He looked to his other side. Tony the Tiger stared at him from the surface of a cereal box, the top of which was on fire. Slowly getting his bearings, he realised he was wedged between two tiers of a supermarket shelf, which itself had fallen on its side. He couldn't move. His ears were bombarded with the sounds of explosions; the crackling of fire; noises not unlike jet planes or missile launches, and a dangerous buzzing like a live wire. Every time there was an impact, the ground shook, dust and debris rained down and he winced at the intensity of the sound. Were they under attack? A bombing?
He tried to lift himself but yelled in pain just as there was another immense explosion. His head throbbed, and he looked down at the sources of his pain. His left arm was broken - he could feel that, and see the blood leaking vividly through at the elbow of his grey shirt. And looking down at his right leg, it was pierced from behind by a steel bar which was part of the shelf's construction. Mercifully, it was not bleeding too much. With a wrench and a choked scream, he pulled himself free of the bar and rolled onto his front. His toes were still working - a relief - so there wasn't any real damage to his leg. Gathering his strength, and putting his weight on his legs and unbroken arm, he pushed himself up to peer over the edge of the shelf.
The supermarket was chaos. Most of the lights had been blown, so the only light was from the failing evening sun which was filtering in through the windows at the front of the shop, hindered by the thick black smoke. All the shelves in the entire building were overturned, and here and there fires were burning brightly amongst the wreckage. The air reeked of burning food, a cloying and sweet smell which made Alex want to retch. The smoke from the fires was thick, but he could see here and there heads and limbs starting to move, various screamings and moanings from those trapped or injured. Every so often there would be another flash and a great exploding noise followed by a noise like sucking air, and he would have to duck down lest he get hurt. What was going on?
From above the whooshing and the banging came a cry.
"You said I could keep my life! You said I could live a normal life! You! Let! Me! Go!"
Ellen? But how? Another voice:
"You could never lead a normal life! We would never let you!"
"Your lies are venomous! Every word you speak is blackguard!"
A derisive chuckle.
"What did you expect? To us, you are nothing but vermin to be exterminated!"
Another blinding flash and a shock of force so powerful it would have thrown Alex backwards has he not been holding on tightly to his sheltering shelf.
"But I was promised! I was promised that I could leave, and no-one would come after me!"
"And did you think it was that simple? Did you think machinations were not already underway to find and destroy you?"
Alex had had enough. He clambered over the shelf as quietly as he could - not that he needed to be quiet, given the roaring explosions - and made his way towards the source of the noise. The smoke was thick and made him choke; he could barely see. A couple of times he thought someone beneath him cried out but he couldn't stop...
"Why will you not leave me be?!" Ellen shrieked above the din. "I am in love! I have a husband! Please, just leave me be!"
Another dangerous whooshing sound, and something passed over his head, something large and dark, landing behind him, shaking the floor. The spider-limbed man. Alex flattened himself against the debris beneath him and tried not to move.
"These things, you are not to be given. You are an exile. You belong to us now."
Alex slowly raised his head, and through the gloom there was his Ellen, standing several feet before him. Her head was held high, and there were long gashes through her clothing through which she was dribbling bright red blood. Half her face was red and raw, as though burnt. He made to call out to her, but the smoke caught in his throat and he was speechless. Ellen, his Ellen, horribly hurt, but with a defiant snarl on her soft lips.
"I belong to no-one."
She threw her arm up and he saw her pupils dilate until there was nothing but black. From somewhere in her gut crawled a visible power, bright green, snaking in and out of her skin, climbing up her ribcage like a snake, up her shoulder, around her arm, spreading to her fingertips, and then roaring from her hand as emerald fire, over his head, towards her assailant. Every hair on Alex's body stood up. There was that awful sucking sound, and an enormous explosion as the man in black dodged and a pile of wreckage behind him erupted into flame. The man cackled.
"You cannot win this!" he jeered, a sharp edge to his words. Alex's head snapped around. The man's eyes were bright blue, shining in his head. He was wearing an evil smile. And there now was that power in his gut, climbing his long body, sparking and spitting, blue lightning curling around his long, thin arm and arcing out towards Ellen. She threw her hands up and a flash of bright white seemed to catch the attack, absorbing it soundlessly, but still she staggered and almost fell. She was breathing hard now, clutching a wound in her side. "You are injured, Ellen. Your power simply cannot stand up to my own. There is no way. Give up."
"Never," she snarled, her face creasing in pain. Alex could not speak, but he reached his hand out to her, feeling faint. Ellen noticed this, her head dropping, her mouth fallen open in a whisper of his name. He watched as the black of her eyes melted away to their usual sharp green, and she sobbed in her throat. "Never," she murmured again, and she sank slowly to her knees amongst the charred ruin.
For the moment, it seemed to Alex, everything was quiet. She was looking in his eyes, her beautiful greens blurring with tears. She bit back another sob, her lip caught between her teeth, and he felt his heart break inside him. Her hand felt small and cold as she slid it into his and squeezed. Alex was weak, and could only lift his head a little, but her voice was clear.
"I'm sorry, Alex," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry. But they won't stop. Even though they had me, they'd have you too. I can't let that happen."
"Ellen, no--"
"I can't, Alex. I'm sorry."
"I don't understand, I--"
"I have to leave you. And I don't want to. But I have to. I have to go, my love. Please, never forget that I love you. I will always love you."
"Ellen, please, no, I--"
"Goodbye, Alex."
There was a sad strength behind Ellen's eyes. Alex was transfixed. Ellen withdrew her hand for his and slowly, shakily, she stood, and fixed the man in black with such a glare that Alex winced.
"With my death, your contract on my life is void. And my life...you will never have."
And with that she threw her arms out, her head back and exploded into light. A roaring, shrieking sound filled the air. The ground shook. Ellen's body was on white fire, in a shock of dazzling white light that Alex could not look directly at . She was screaming, and the scream had become a song of sorrow, and an airless wind was blowing him back, the brilliance of the light growing in intensity, blowing the smoke away, blowing his mind away...
Silence. Darkness.
Then the sun came back on, followed by the fluorescent lights of the supermarket. The silence was broken by the overhead speakers buzzing into life and soft banal music spilled out. The floor was clean, smooth, cold against his cheek. As he opened his eyes he realised his arm was no longer broken; neither did his head or leg pain him. His clothes were clean and undamaged. As he lifted his head, he saw that the supermarket was back to normal; no shelves upturned; neither a bag of crisps out of place, nor a carton of milk spilled. There was the trolley, filled with their weekly shopping, still rolling of its own momentum down the aisle. And there on the ground next to him, the box of cookies.
Shaking, Alex curled into a ball and wept.
Brilliance
Look at her, he thought. She looks gorgeous even when stretching up to get a box of cookies. He allowed himself a goofy little grin. He did really love his wife. She was a petite woman with a slim, pale face, brilliant green eyes and thick red hair which tumbled down her back in curls and braids. Her lips were sweet, pink, and seemed to always be wryly smirking, and she had a thin, pointed nose. She was beautiful, and he loved her. They had been together for three years, nary a fight nor a wobble, and as far as he was concerned he was the happiest man alive. He allowed his eyes to stray down her back, past the sliver of waist he could see as she strained upwards, down to--
"Stop perving," he heard her mumble through gritted teeth. Though there was mirth in her voice, he still felt his cheeks grow hot and he did find himself looking elsewhere. Cookies obtained, she let herself drop back down and turned to face him. That wry little smirk. He stuttered.
"Sorry, I, erm..."
She gave a snort of amusement and shoved the box of cookies at him.
"Don't be a dork, Alex," she chastised him, wiggling her behind for emphasis. He grinned at her and went back to the shopping trolley. She followed, linking her little arm into the crook of his as they walked along.
"We're quite a hot couple, you know," she casually remarked, stretching her arm out to trail over the surface of some Pringles tubes. Alex couldn't help but smile.
"I suppose we are...most of which comes from you." At this his wife gasped and then laughed, swatting his arm.
"Oh, come on! Feel that muscle, there!" She squeezed his bicep. "You're a macho man! Grr!" She made a ferocious face and he laughed.
"You've a nerve to call me a dork, Ellen," he chuckled, putting his arm around her and squeezing her a little. She gave a little squeak and sprung away from him.
"Don't squeeze me, I might break under your mighty power! Grr!" and she made that face again. It was so corny, but he just couldn't help but laugh. She was adorable. He gave the trolley a push so it would roll clangerously down the aisle ahead of them, on its own momentum. He bundled her into his arms, cupped her chin and kissed her gently, feeling her giggle, her lips smiling against his, her hands on the small of his back, and the trolley had stopped rolling. He broke away from her with a little frown of confusion, and looked to his right.
It had been stopped by a boot on its axle. The foot belonged to a man, painfully thin, horribly pale, dressed in tight black leather, bronze zips scarring its surface. The man had long, thin, spindly limbs which gave him the loathsome image of a spider. Cobalt blue eyes burned in his white face, which itself seemed to hold an avian quality. For a long moment, Alex could but stare.
And then his feet left the ground. He was forced backwards at impossible speed, and in that split second he thought he was going to be pulverised by the supermarket shelf, but that wasn't there, that had fallen behind him, and the next, and the next, he was flying backwards away from his tiny flame-haired wife and the tall spindly man, and he could see that shelf after shelf was falling on the other side as well, a domino pile-up. With air rushing by his ears, he felt his head connect with the far wall and blackness blotted him out.
He came to a moment later to a fierce pain in his head, and left arm, and side. Crying out, he opened his eyes to find himself shut in on two sides, staring up at a fluorescent light in the ceiling. Slowly he turned his head to the side to find himself staring at a loaf of bread which appeared to have been torn in half, which itself was drenched in a mixture of milk and what smelled like vodka. He looked to his other side. Tony the Tiger stared at him from the surface of a cereal box, the top of which was on fire. Slowly getting his bearings, he realised he was wedged between two tiers of a supermarket shelf, which itself had fallen on its side. He couldn't move. His ears were bombarded with the sounds of explosions; the crackling of fire; noises not unlike jet planes or missile launches, and a dangerous buzzing like a live wire. Every time there was an impact, the ground shook, dust and debris rained down and he winced at the intensity of the sound. Were they under attack? A bombing?
He tried to lift himself but yelled in pain just as there was another immense explosion. His head throbbed, and he looked down at the sources of his pain. His left arm was broken - he could feel that, and see the blood leaking vividly through at the elbow of his grey shirt. And looking down at his right leg, it was pierced from behind by a steel bar which was part of the shelf's construction. Mercifully, it was not bleeding too much. With a wrench and a choked scream, he pulled himself free of the bar and rolled onto his front. His toes were still working - a relief - so there wasn't any real damage to his leg. Gathering his strength, and putting his weight on his legs and unbroken arm, he pushed himself up to peer over the edge of the shelf.
The supermarket was chaos. Most of the lights had been blown, so the only light was from the failing evening sun which was filtering in through the windows at the front of the shop, hindered by the thick black smoke. All the shelves in the entire building were overturned, and here and there fires were burning brightly amongst the wreckage. The air reeked of burning food, a cloying and sweet smell which made Alex want to retch. The smoke from the fires was thick, but he could see here and there heads and limbs starting to move, various screamings and moanings from those trapped or injured. Every so often there would be another flash and a great exploding noise followed by a noise like sucking air, and he would have to duck down lest he get hurt. What was going on?
From above the whooshing and the banging came a cry.
"You said I could keep my life! You said I could live a normal life! You! Let! Me! Go!"
Ellen? But how? Another voice:
"You could never lead a normal life! We would never let you!"
"Your lies are venomous! Every word you speak is blackguard!"
A derisive chuckle.
"What did you expect? To us, you are nothing but vermin to be exterminated!"
Another blinding flash and a shock of force so powerful it would have thrown Alex backwards has he not been holding on tightly to his sheltering shelf.
"But I was promised! I was promised that I could leave, and no-one would come after me!"
"And did you think it was that simple? Did you think machinations were not already underway to find and destroy you?"
Alex had had enough. He clambered over the shelf as quietly as he could - not that he needed to be quiet, given the roaring explosions - and made his way towards the source of the noise. The smoke was thick and made him choke; he could barely see. A couple of times he thought someone beneath him cried out but he couldn't stop...
"Why will you not leave me be?!" Ellen shrieked above the din. "I am in love! I have a husband! Please, just leave me be!"
Another dangerous whooshing sound, and something passed over his head, something large and dark, landing behind him, shaking the floor. The spider-limbed man. Alex flattened himself against the debris beneath him and tried not to move.
"These things, you are not to be given. You are an exile. You belong to us now."
Alex slowly raised his head, and through the gloom there was his Ellen, standing several feet before him. Her head was held high, and there were long gashes through her clothing through which she was dribbling bright red blood. Half her face was red and raw, as though burnt. He made to call out to her, but the smoke caught in his throat and he was speechless. Ellen, his Ellen, horribly hurt, but with a defiant snarl on her soft lips.
"I belong to no-one."
She threw her arm up and he saw her pupils dilate until there was nothing but black. From somewhere in her gut crawled a visible power, bright green, snaking in and out of her skin, climbing up her ribcage like a snake, up her shoulder, around her arm, spreading to her fingertips, and then roaring from her hand as emerald fire, over his head, towards her assailant. Every hair on Alex's body stood up. There was that awful sucking sound, and an enormous explosion as the man in black dodged and a pile of wreckage behind him erupted into flame. The man cackled.
"You cannot win this!" he jeered, a sharp edge to his words. Alex's head snapped around. The man's eyes were bright blue, shining in his head. He was wearing an evil smile. And there now was that power in his gut, climbing his long body, sparking and spitting, blue lightning curling around his long, thin arm and arcing out towards Ellen. She threw her hands up and a flash of bright white seemed to catch the attack, absorbing it soundlessly, but still she staggered and almost fell. She was breathing hard now, clutching a wound in her side. "You are injured, Ellen. Your power simply cannot stand up to my own. There is no way. Give up."
"Never," she snarled, her face creasing in pain. Alex could not speak, but he reached his hand out to her, feeling faint. Ellen noticed this, her head dropping, her mouth fallen open in a whisper of his name. He watched as the black of her eyes melted away to their usual sharp green, and she sobbed in her throat. "Never," she murmured again, and she sank slowly to her knees amongst the charred ruin.
For the moment, it seemed to Alex, everything was quiet. She was looking in his eyes, her beautiful greens blurring with tears. She bit back another sob, her lip caught between her teeth, and he felt his heart break inside him. Her hand felt small and cold as she slid it into his and squeezed. Alex was weak, and could only lift his head a little, but her voice was clear.
"I'm sorry, Alex," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry. But they won't stop. Even though they had me, they'd have you too. I can't let that happen."
"Ellen, no--"
"I can't, Alex. I'm sorry."
"I don't understand, I--"
"I have to leave you. And I don't want to. But I have to. I have to go, my love. Please, never forget that I love you. I will always love you."
"Ellen, please, no, I--"
"Goodbye, Alex."
There was a sad strength behind Ellen's eyes. Alex was transfixed. Ellen withdrew her hand for his and slowly, shakily, she stood, and fixed the man in black with such a glare that Alex winced.
"With my death, your contract on my life is void. And my life...you will never have."
And with that she threw her arms out, her head back and exploded into light. A roaring, shrieking sound filled the air. The ground shook. Ellen's body was on white fire, in a shock of dazzling white light that Alex could not look directly at . She was screaming, and the scream had become a song of sorrow, and an airless wind was blowing him back, the brilliance of the light growing in intensity, blowing the smoke away, blowing his mind away...
Silence. Darkness.
Then the sun came back on, followed by the fluorescent lights of the supermarket. The silence was broken by the overhead speakers buzzing into life and soft banal music spilled out. The floor was clean, smooth, cold against his cheek. As he opened his eyes he realised his arm was no longer broken; neither did his head or leg pain him. His clothes were clean and undamaged. As he lifted his head, he saw that the supermarket was back to normal; no shelves upturned; neither a bag of crisps out of place, nor a carton of milk spilled. There was the trolley, filled with their weekly shopping, still rolling of its own momentum down the aisle. And there on the ground next to him, the box of cookies.
Shaking, Alex curled into a ball and wept.