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Kieran's eyes stayed set on the face of Jacie. Her features blazing in a bright crimson. What had they truly done to her. This was not the girl he loved and adored. She looked nothing the same, but her eyes betrayed her. "W-what did they do to you... Once you left me..?" He voice was a ragged, unkept stammer. Kieran himself flushed a bright red remembering his foolishly exposed body, this was humiliating madness. His eyes scored searchingly down from Jacie's face. She was wrapped in a thin robe, though gods only dread what lay underneath, or didn't rather. Then she stood.
Jacie's body moved towards Kieran, and without warning the thin robe slipped from her fragile body. Kieran's eyes widened, a sudden uproar of butterflies battling within his stomach, smashing in fast motions against his internal boundaries. Somewhere beneath his towel a faint arousal took place. Jacie was wearing much too little. Her gentle slender framed body, hosted only clinging red lace to conceal it’s appearance. kieran was disgusted by his wanting, his dire need to reach out and grab her; bt in that second of truth, he couldn’t. This was his Jacie, the little girl he’d known for years, the older girl he’d now sworn to protect, sworn never to seen hurt... and he’d just nearly ravished her by his own hand. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t.
In the same moment he had withdrawn all thoughts Jacie had resolved back to the bed.
“You don’t have to do anything Jacie... Please, trust me.” He’d watched her draw away, his eyes swelling in fierce anger, and pain at that moment in which he had almost lost everything. “I can’y do this either... Please stop saying sorry.” Kieran’s voice near pleaded as he drew closer to the bed. The urge to reach out his hand, and stroke the tear from her cheek was unfathomable. Jacie freed her hair as it fell about her face once more. The girl, woman; he adored. It that moment his hand reached out and stroked over the back of her hair. “Your not going anywhere without me.” In those few minutes his mind had become resolute. She wasn’t leaving him, not now or ever. They were leaving here though. Forever.
 PorcelainSlave · Mon Aug 08, 2011 @ 10:24pm · 0 Comments |
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The night before.
The clattering of the third apartment lift grate rang out with ominous chorus, as a couple stepped abruptly from within the confines. “Don’t take that tone of voice with me Dina--” A sharp snap of disparagement left the lips of the muscular dark haired man.
“What tone, the one where you know I’m right again?” She growled with little difficulty. “You spent the night ******** about with a stripper, you bring her back; and expect me to be ok?”
“Dina. You know it wasn’t like that-” He continued in a pleading fashion.
“Oh do I? Then why was there a drugged up blonde floozy in my house. Let’s face it you conspicuous whore; she was hardly my choice of female.” The words broke flat in her throat as she burst through the door to the blonde, who was still waiting on them. With a slash of falsely manicured nails the girls face became a bleeding wretch to look at. “There we go! Now we can at least pretend she was a guest invited by me.” Dina’al Brith rang out with such dread filling malice. Her eyes burned entirely with tragic intensity; her hands shaking in the familiar untamed anger.
“Dina, calm down.” The man spoke, running to the side of the crying girl. At the moment he touched her Dina walked over pulling him back by the hair, and strapped him down to the bed. In a swift moment she took a hold of the blonde little slut and bound her to a chair before the bed, her eyes wide with psychotic insanity as she strictly taped over the females mouth.
“You want me to calm down Tom. How about I show you a taste of anger management? Yes? I’ll treat myself to personal therapy.” A short bland laugh slipped from her as she put on four thick spiked metallic rings; then with a resounding thud, and the sound of crunching bones, Dina’s fist planted into the girls ribs. Only the sound of fear, panic, crying, and pleading could be portrayed in mumbles through the gagged, taped mouth. “So tell me Tom, what was her name? You can at least remember that much...can’t you?” Dina spoke in a gentle, calm tone. Slowly she stepped towards Tom, her knuckles now painted in the girls blood. “Want to taste?” She cackled joyously.
“You sick b***h!” Tom roared aloud, his body writhing in the restraints; a quick gut punch silenced him for a moment as he fell limp.
“Come now Tom. I only asked for a name.” Dina grinned biting on his lower lip.
“Jenny.” The name fell precariously from Tom’s winded throat, only just audible within the groan. Patting his head Dina’al Brith turned back to the blonde, now snickering more than before.
“Incy wincy blonde girl came up into my house, home came I and beat her lights out.” She verbally phrased in a melodic fashion, as the tune ended another bone breaking hit was delivered to the opposing ribs. The girls bone structure began to break in before Dina’s eyes. In a single jolting movement her fist collided with the girls jugular, in turn breaking her neck. “Bye bye Blondie.” Dina turned and grinned at Tom; his face sullen with shock. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked dangerous girls.” She sighed gently. “Such a shame they don’t like you.” A small knife slipped out and she injected it deep into his breast plate.
A distinct clock chime sprung to life, a small alarm splitting across the apartment. On the sofa lay Dina’al Brith. Her eyes with open as she laid fast asleep, her body clenched up to itself. On the coffee table before her, lay a small liquor bottle, and four blood coated rings, matched to each of her blood stained fingers. With an abrupt choke Dina awoke. The smell of already stale blood embalmed the apartment. All curtains and windows shut. It was early morning, very early. Dina bolted upright and looked into the cold, lifeless eyes of her three week lover; Tom. Such a pity, but the thrill was worth more, her head then turned furiously to the sunken heap that was the blonde. Striding to her Dina reached out for her knife from the night before, and gutting the girl, she left a note on the apartment floor reading ‘Well done Barbie’ with that she left the building, only her hands showed the blood, and that could easily be remedied. The apartment as much as it was her home, had not been signed in her name; she had previously murdered the long term resident and avoided the prying landlord. Turned out there had been monthly payments made in advance.
Looking confidently down each passing side street Dina’al Brith slowly wove her way to a back street restaurant. Some place where no one would ask questions.
PorcelainSlave · Mon Aug 08, 2011 @ 10:22pm · 0 Comments |
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The smoke grazed the chalky posterior of the white washed apartment. A misty, dull, fog-like substance hung low in the air; it centralised around a young woman. Yana Hildron. Her eyes set and bloodshot in there frightful beauty, upon her head a bedraggled pale bleached web of hair, and lips baring some tacky shade of a hookers lipstick, whilst the rest of her face remained un-tainted by makeup.
The cloud like cacophony of toxins that hung about her head, served the purpose of keeping her half asleep daze in tact, as the ash dropped from a nearing bud to the ground by her crossed legs. The tilt of a yellowed fingertip signalled her living presence. Significant in itself for no apparent reason. A tranquil sense of waiting was all that was truly felt in her abode. She knew what was coming; in a sense she was desperate, in another she was curious; that always was the issues with being alive, you can assume what is next, but never know. A side smile split across her face as she dropped the cigarette from between her previously pursed lips and fell back onto a cushion. Her teeth shone a somewhat bright white, the only obvious thing that was seemingly unaffected by the nicotine and smoke. Her eyes closed, revealing lengthly eyes lashes, a much darker shade that her hair colour, for a moment she looked entirely ecstatic before her eyes snapped open once more. Fun... That was what she wanted, for this last time, fun. Quite simply.
.....
Yana's eye lids fluttered and she awoke, lying on that black couch, in that same room. The same room she always seemed to awake from the most precious dreams within. A man looked at her from a desk, as if crudely analyzing her. This was a weekly process, ever since she was diagnosed, what did they think she would do? There was very little she could do...But she needed to find something, anything. Her life revolved around these weekly meetings, where that same Dr. Pejad watched her rest, spoke to her in that monotone voice; and told her she'd be fine. Yes. Fine...As fine as any terminally ill, awaiting death patient ever is. So ******** fine. Then there was one other, routinely timed act. REHAB. Those group sessions working as a conjunction for those who 'have to' quit. A singular woman would stand up every session, her ribs sticking out, and her whiny voice claiming she is healthy; preaching at them. turning cigarettes into sins, and making smoke the devil.
... Cigarettes. Her killer, and relief during death.
PorcelainSlave · Mon Aug 08, 2011 @ 10:21pm · 0 Comments |
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//- Two weeks Previous -\
“What do you mean he here. Here in London? Once more.” An expression of both adoration and minor fear fell over the matured features of Analiese Keldorn. A good few years it had been since she had last seen that man. It was all to fair to say, she always craved to meet him again; but forever for her better judgement prayed she wouldn’t. Still now she couldn’t work out which of the two had been the deviant fiend upon there last encounter. What she could remember was that there had been something. Events had taken place, that had never been spoken of since, and Analiese wasn’t sure whether she wanted them unearthed. She had been young, right? Compulsive. Easily wooed and pushed by childish whims.
“That would be correct Madame. Leo Matagir returned once more from his journeys back to his original birth place, our dear London”
“Silence Ren.” Analiese barked. The snooty nosed waiter looked at her for a moment with confused disgust. She was kind, affectionate; but often very snappy and sharp alongside. In a mood of ungodly thoughts, oh forbid one should disturb her. She was a dangerous female to say the least. Feisty and incredibly powerful. The type where age nor manner mattered entirely.
In a scuttle of flustered movements Analiese sped from her delicate seated position, scouring the room. Searching for something, anything that brought back the old madness. Her younger more foolhardy years, where she had sped onto small missions without a thought in the world, lacking the right mind to settle down in her own adventures. She had taken on the dreams of others, one of these many people being Leo. He’d had some fantastical ideas back in the day. Silly adventures, obsolete conversations. All those little things you think about on long journeys. The fabricated dreams, and dull realities.
Smiling Analiese stood atop a small foot stool, reaching to a top cupboard, and pulling out a small rusted picture frame. Within the frame lay a fragile, apparently aged image. It was two people, that looked something like a couple in there early twenties. A genuine lugh played across the females face, and a smile upon the males. The image that had been so alive then was merely frozen here. Timeless. Flipping over the frame, Analiese removed the back. There scrawled in small letters were written the names Leo&Ana is a French script styled hand. A soft, saddened smile played across; the truth was there had never been a title on what they had meant to each other, merely anonymous guesses from those around them. Neither of the two personally had ever cared for labeling it.
//- One Week Previous -\
“Ren I’m leaving, I need to know, and I have to find out.” A monotone of distressed snapping came from Analiese’s tensed jaw. She was nervous, angered, displeased and regretful. Past miscreant predicaments had faltered her steps towards seeing Leo once more, but now she refused. A point blank re-fusion to step back and let him escape again. He was doing something, she knew it, else he wouldn’t be back here. Far in the depths of her mind, she knew he was digging deep once more; he was finding the work of dreamers. Why else would he score once again through the tattered works of London. The city was his muse, his home, his comfort for concentration; and she knew it.
“Madame, are you sure that is the wisest ch--”
“Ren no one ever hired you to speak out of turn.” Then poor butler had been snapped on so much the last week, Analiese’s mind raveling in curiosity, she had been and unsympathetic to anything less than perfect from those residing in her manor.
In her eccentric passive years Analiese had become a little odd, her world slowly spinning into a space revolving around perfection. Her mind spending each day potentially drowned in memories, and her nose forever buried deep inside a book of some sorts. Often a quote would slip from her lips in some nonchalant fashion; so as to shock, stun or inform another. She found it so frightfully exciting you remember particular dates, to flashback as if she were there. Some people may have called her mad; yet on the surface Analiese remained a powerful, strong figure. Entirely set within her own ways, and authoritative yet motherly caring aura always hanging about her being. No one would ever question the woman's sanity, for even the insane could be wildly at ease with themselves, rendering them entirely stable.
-
Analiese’s leather, steel toe capped heels tapped into unison along the cobbled road as she stepped from the transporting carriage and began walking in the direction of the long since remembered manor, that belonged to Leo. For the life of her now she could not understand why she was doing this, why she was actually approaching the place of his residency. What did he even look like now? Who was he, now the years had taken a toll? Would he remember her equally as she had him? Would she even notice a hint of that charming smile that used to brighten with every visit. That was enough though. She couldn’t be doing with torturing herself just before a possible entrance, so sighing gently Analiese put her mind to ease, and simply focused on the path to the manor.
I single step, and her foot rest upon the risen ground leading to the threshold. A large looming lion’s head protruded from the oak door, and with steady but nervous grace, Analiese knocked the metal bar hanging from the lion’s mouth with gentle force; creating a resonating full sound. Her hand twitched as it rested back to her side, and within moments a woman had appeared at the door. From her appearance it was clear she was a servant of the house to Analiese’s great relief. A fast cutting tone came from the females mouth. “Yes. Who are you? What do you want?” The maid snarled. It was obvious she was not keen on another female being in the house.
“Hello young lady. I am an old friend of Leo’s. I wish to see him. Analiese responded in a surprising friendly tone. The maid looked at her wondrously, as if pondering upon something. In the back ground Analiese could hear the voices of people. Amongst the chattering ruckus she picked up on two things; ‘Garden of Eden’ and the name of something else ‘Loreli’. With that there was a sudden slamming of a door, and Analiese was left back on the cobbles, the oak wood bared before her face.
//- One day previous -\
Analiese sat studiously within a great emerald green, leather chair. Her eyes gazed with vast concentration into the distance as the nails on her left hand played small chords delicately on the arm of the chair. She had stayed up nights, scribbled notes for days, yet she was still at great unease with everything. The name ‘Loreli’ meant something to her, but for her life she could not remember what. Her eyes glued to the shelf from where she had taken the picture. There concealed in dust lay a velvet box, she knew within it were notes, dream, jokes, and songs; but it took her this long to finally go for it. Stepping from the chair with precision she passed across the room in several quick stride and plucked the box from the shelf. Settling backdown in the arm chair Analiese’s now shaky fingers opened the box, a mass of little scrolls and pointless trinkets lay before her. Picking a smaller of the scrolls she read cautiously. I sudden look of glee pasted across her face. On the paper was written: And together we’ll sail in Loreli, the sea is ours, for minds to travel. It was one of the youthful poems, but there it was. Loreli.
It couldn’t be that simple, could it? Analiese questioned herself. What if he is going on a trip? What if it’s on a boat...Loreli? A suspended spark of hope flurried through her mind.
“Ren? REN?! Pack things.” She shouted in an announcement like tone.
“Madame you are very compulsive as of late...” Ren spoke in his usual witty context. “Do you not think you should consid--”
“And you have been much to intrusive this week. Do as I say. Chop! Chop!” A crazed grin now played across her face.
-
Stepping onto the docks, Analiese made a very prominent sight, her matured figure graced in cloth and leather with the same heels she always wore, a dusted off utility belt hung about her waist; and she carried a large sack like back. ‘Victoria’; ‘Candem’; ‘Knight’.” She listed out making her way down the dock. Then a dark, gruff, unpleasant voice broke in.
“Oi! You. Wha’ dya think ya doin’? The bulky male spat out as he neared her from behind. Turning with abrupt efficiency she looked up at him.
“I am looking for Loreli.” She stated in a matter of fact manner, though distantly hoping it actually existed.
“Whatcha’ be a lookin’ for that for, eh?” The man questioned, his foul breath reeking of congealed alcohol and rotting foods. In a flurry of fast thoughts words spilled from Analiese’s lips as if they were meant to be.
“I’m here to inspect it. Engineer.” She smiled convincingly.
“Argh, righ’ then. I better be ‘elpin ya then. Eh? Settin’ off tomorrow int’ she.” The man responded this time, his guard dropping. Slowly he trudged along the dock with Analiese following at his heel. Finally stopping before Analiese, in a matter of moment her jaw dropped. That; was not what she’d expected.
-
Shortly after the man left Analiese approached Loreli. A submarine. I mean she had heard about them, read about them, for gods sake she had seen base plans for the construction of them; but never one up close. Not like this. Walking down the boarding plank the man had provided She climbed in the heavy hatch. It slammed shut behind her and many lights flashed on, turning them off as she went Analiese found her way into of of the lower area’s and settles behind some apparent steam pipes. This was it. It set sail tomorrow, and Analiese would be aboard.
//- Boarding Day -\
It was early, very early when Analiese firs heard the sound of the opening hatch, a curious voice echoed about. It was no doubt the true engineer of the place, or something of the sort. In several swift maneuvers Analiese had herself hidden inconspicuously amongst the pipes, her luggage in tow. The figure came into view slowly, she was right. For moment he paused as if about to halt; possibly spot her, but then his endless tracking and inspecting continued
-
The submarine bubbled with activity , people had arived, been checked out and jumped down the hatch. It was like entering a rabbit whole, and trip and a smart remark. Each reminding her of her own adventures back in the day. One after another the crew flooded down as if freed water. They greeted one another, spoke with one another, and settled down for the journey. It pained Analiese, none of these beings spoke any word of the set destination and left her lost. What if Leo didn’t turn up? What if he had arranged this for someone else? What if she was no a stowaway on a submarine of many strangers? For a moment the panic almost hit her, before soothing breaths and a short pause calmed her heart rate. What did she care, she was more experienced, knew what she was doing; she be an asset to any crew...Still as the submarine got ready to set off, Analiese’s stomach churned.
PorcelainSlave · Mon Aug 08, 2011 @ 10:20pm · 0 Comments |
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