Hi! So, the next chapter of An Eye for an Eye is coming soon, I'm at a bit of a dilemma in it, but nothing I haven't worked out. Anyways, this is four years after Neferet's Curse, and Neferet decides to visit Chicago. This same day, Arthur and Camille are getting married.
Turning on her heel, Neferet ran for the train. She had told herself she was never going back, but she couldn't resist this trip. This time, it was because she seeked to bury the last piece of her former self there. The dress she'd arriced to the House of Nght in, still torn and bloody sat, concealed in her bag as she stowed it beneath her seat and reclined into the soft leather.
On the second to last stop of the train, a man came into the car, portly and balding. Neferet recognised him, but couldn't put a name to his face. He looked at her for a mment, as though thinking.
"Emily Wheiler?" he asked. She stiffened. That wasn't her name. That wasn't her life. Neferet dug her nails into the leather of the seat, trying to keep the memories at bay. She had gone four years with no reminder of who she was, and now the instant she left the House of Night, this happened? Neferet was considering going back there.
"I have not been called that for a long time," she finally responded, speaking a little more quietly than typical for her, but meeting the stranger's light blue eyes, "and who might you be?" she asked sharply, rying to recall who exactly this was. If he was one of Father's friends, I may just have to dispose of him, she thought. The bull would like that, she was sure.
He chortled, "I'm Franklin Simpton, Arthur's Father," he reminded her, sitting down close to her, "I presume the two of you haven't spoken much since you left," he added.
Neferet tried to word what she was thinking inoffensively, but gave up. "Mr. Simpton, when I was Marked, your son made it explicitly clear that he 'would not have such things in his life', and I see no reason for him to have gone back on that," she remarked dryly.
He laughed, "I think Arthur would be happy to see that you're happier than you were before," he said, obviously trying to smooth things out between his son and Neferet, "No doubt someone wrote to you telling you about what happened to your father," Mr. Simpton asked it as thought it was a question.
Not wanting him to suspect her, Neferet decided to play naïve, "happened? What happened with my father?" she asked, trying to sound as though she was shocked that something had happened to him.
"Shortly after you were Marked, he was murdered. The docter said it was strangulation. No one ever found the weapon," Mr. Simpton explained, his tone sombre. Neferet wondered if it had upset him, if he expected her to be upset. She wondered if Arthur had betrayed her yet another way and told his father what had happened. Worse yet, if her father had gloated about it.
She looked down at her hands and whispered, "oh my," trying to pass as hysterical. Really, it gave her a thrill of pride that she'd defeated her aggressor. Even four years later, she was still proud.
Mr. Simpton looked around, ensuring there was no one else in the car, "I understand that Barrett—ah, your father—was not the best father sometimes. Arthur told me about how he seemed to forget you were not Alice. I would imagine you were not happy there, but who would want him dead? The man was responsible for the World Fair," She let him ramble about her father's many acheivements, feeling nauseated. She now knew Mr. Simpton didn't know she'd been—didn't know the extent of it.
She changed the subject, abruptly cutting Mr. Simpton off, "So how is Arthur doing?" she asked, just as the train was about to pull in.
Mr. Simpton smiled, "He and Camille Elcott are getting married today," he said, "I'm on the way there now,"
What!? Neferet thought, this is a betrayal, my 'best friend' and my 'fiancé'. Had she been thinking clearly, she'd say that Camille deserved someone that fickle and leave it at that. However, after thinking about how Arthur had left her in her time of need, and how much he knew, didn't sit well with her. She didn't want anyone to know what had happened. No one could know of her weakness.
"Might I go to see Arthur, I feel as if it would only be right for me to be there. After all, Camille was my best friend," mentally, she emphasized the 'was'. To Mr. Sipmton, she looked like a slightly older version of the same young Emily she'd been when she was sixteen, despite her being twenty now. He liked the idea of Arthur seeing Emily, as he thought of her. The Elcotts irked him and he was hoping Arthur might fall for Emily again when he saw her.
Neferet, on the other hand, was imagining Arthur's face if she were to barge through the doors, wearing the dress she'd come here to bury. If she stormed in on a cloud of the shadows within shadows that she commanded. She imagined Camille and her little cronies gasping as her tendrils whipped around the church, destroying everything until she was right in front of Arthur.
"Do you have a dress?" Mr. Simpton asked, "The wedding is in an hour," he gave her an address and called a coach to take her wherever she ordered it to. Neferet decided to go to the chapel, or a field near the chapel. There, she brushed out her long, auburn hair, threading a thin emerald ribbon in, just like Mary used to. She wondered about Mary, whether she had found another family to work for. Carson, Mary and the chef had all been as helpless as she had been.
Then, Neferet swiped blood red lipstick on her lips, playing up the fact that she was a vampyre. Not yet in her dress, she took a stroll down to a certain river, the same river she'd thrown her necklace from. She summoned a tendril of the Darkness that she commanded and asked that it give her the necklace back.
The tendril obeyed, finding the strand, but the once-white pearls were red, like the blood they'd drawn, and slashed from the tendrils. Perfect. She donned that as well, making her way to the chapel washrooms. There, she slowly slipped into the emerald dress. It would have been obscenely tight, but being as torn as it was, it slid on easily enough. The blood was still there, though she'd washed it, the stains would never come out. It was almost fitting really, that the dress, much like Neferet, might never be the same. Once she'd zipped the back up, she examined it, looking at herself in shock.
She looked so much like she used to, but so different. Her marks, twined like Celtic knots were all the difference. That and the determination that burned like a fire in her eyes. She looked in the mirror once more, and on a whim, added a dark powder, to darken her eyelids, and emphasize her eyes. This time, she gave the burning looks. The bag of her valuables went under the counter and she plucked the dried flowers from the vase in the washroom; a mockery of the bridesmaid bouquets.
Then, he heard the bride herself enter the room. Neferet flitted into a stall. If Camille saw her now, it would be ruined. She watched through the crack of the door as Camille twirled before t he mirror. Camille's dress looking overly gaudy, huge and puffy, like a giant, white marshmallow, and adorned in gems and lace. Even her veil was edged in floral lace. Her smooth, light blond hair was also almost devoid of colour. She hummed and twirled for the mirror, before hefting her living bouquet and looking at herself again.
"Mrs. Camille Simpton," she trilled, making another twirl, "Emily can't ruin it for you this time, can she?"
The irony of Camille's words almost caused me to laugh and reveal myself, but I stifled it, choking a little on the sound. It was crucial that I be unnoticed until I wanted to be seen.
The wedding March began to play, and Camille flitted out to go hold hands with her father and walk down the aisle.
I entered the hall, slipping behind the door that lead into the actual church part of the building. There, I waited until the minister asked, "if anyone present has a reason that this holy matrimony cannot be performed, speak now, or forever hold your peace.
Neferet stepped into the aisle, speaking loudly and confidently, "I think I have an objection," she remarked.
Arthur gasped, not believing his own eyes. That couldn't be… Emily, could it? She looked so different, but so the same. Arthur turned to face her, letting her emerald eyes burn into his. Those eyes were hers, though he'd never seen that kind of hatred in them. The hair was hers, lustrous and auburn, though now it was a little darker than he recalled. Her face was paler, but obscured by the sapphire taint that masked her. Not to mention, the dress. He'd seen that dress, flecked with smaller bloodstains, now dark and dyed into the fabric. Just as before, the worst of it was the largest stain, which as now a tapering line, thickest at the part there her torso ended, tapering off to the bottom. She smirked at him, blood red lips curling up.
"w-what is your objection, demon?" the minister demanded, acting brave than any other person in the room.
Neferet asked the bull for power, begging Him to seal the door, so she could be sure there would be no witnesses. Darkness complied, flaching up the cracks where doors met and trapping everyone.
Neferet didn't answer, merely approaching the altar, hopping it, and putting her hands on either side of the minister's head. "Do you fear death, man of God?" she demanded, her tone cutting across the room, ringing out in the chapel.
He spat, "Get thee behind me, Satan,"
Neferet laughed, and with a loud crack, killed the holy man. Pandemonium ensued as people ran for doors and drew guns, shooting for her and hitting each other often, feeding the Darkness from all the bloodshed. Arthur ran, knowing Neferet was here for him.
Neferet walked slowly after him, shoving people out of her way, raking her vampyre-hard nails across the skin of anyone near her, alerting the Darkness to what was going to become a mass sacrifice. Anywhere there was blood, Darkness descended, feasting off blood and fear, and the innocent people, whose screams rang out through the chapel. Neferet found Arthur jerking at the handle of the door, tears streaming down his face.
She shoved him against the door, stroking his dark hair out of his terror filled eyes, "Do you know why I'm doing this?" she demanded, slashing a nail down his face.
Arthur whimpered, trying not to cry, "Emily?" he asked, "Emily?"
She dragged another nail down his face, "you left, Arthur. Remember that? I was terrified, and in pain, and you left me," Neferet reminded
Arthur began to sob, knowing that whatever she subjected him to. It was going to be equivalent to that. "Emily," he cried, "I'm sorry, Emily," he sobbed, "please?"
Neferet laughed, slashing him again, this time over a vein in his neck that spewed blood. She licked the cut, stopping it from being fatal… yet.
The doors whipped open, letting them run. Ever careful, Nefert had cast a spell that would cause them to forget that she'd been the cause of all this, and remember it as the church breaking, structurally.
Camille ran to them, fleeing from Darkness and clutching onto Arthur's arm. Neferet looked at the way Arthur's eyes bore into Camille's "I want you to tell her everything is going to be fine, Arthur," Neferet whispered insistently, slashing him again with the Darkness.
Through tears, he complied, "Camille, you're going to be okay, Camille," he whispered as the Darkness crept up her legs. Camille was screaming and sobbing from the agony that Darkness caused, and Neferet smirked.
"Camille, look at me," Arthur insisted, "you're going to make it. We're going to live, Camille. We're stronger than this," he insisted. It crept higher, going up to Camille's waist. She sobbed harder, the pain increasing exponentially.
"Then make it stop," she sobbed, "save me, Arthur," Arthur didn't do anything but continue to talk to her. Arthur whispered more fervently in Camille's ear, and Neferet watched as the Darkness crept over her, so only her head was exposed.
"well, Arthur? Can you make it stop?" Neferet demanded, "will you trade your own life for hers?" she taunted, "one word and you can stop it, Arthur."
Arthur shook his head. Neferet knew Arthur would never sacrifice his own life for another person's. He stepped back as Camille's eyes met his and she whispered, "I hate you, Arthur Simpton," before her eyes went glassy and she died.
Arthur was now just letting tears stream down his face, "you caused this!" he insisted, "Emily, why did you do this?"
Neferet smirked, "I am not done with you, come with me," and without a backward glance, ripped down the support beam of the church as she left.
So, I'm not so sure about this one... it's kinda... extreme... more soon.