CAFARD

Prologue

Now, as the name suggests, Cafard isn't going to be a very sunny story. I was playing around with some new ideas for a while, although I've still got a whole lot on my plate, and I just thought that writing this one out would relieve some tension. I think I plan on continuing it, but not necessarily in the near future. I've already been MIA for months :\ Sorry peeps.

But either way, here we go with this one. I may return to edit it if I do plan on continuing with this.

Rows and rows of smooth grey stones stretched endlessly on into the distance. Some were half covered in vines and undergrowth and others had fissures splitting them apart bit by bit. Two large trees with gnarled roots stood as foreboding sentinels on either side of the thick wrought iron gate. A thick fog that had shrouded the place in gloom for days had finally lifted. The sun made its appearance first shyly peeking through a curtain of clouds then slowly growing bolder and bolder.

The majority of the sky was a startling blue although it was still early morning. Birds flitted to and fro among the stones, gathering twigs and the broken stems of flowery offerings for their nests. Sounds of a city waking up carried clearly through the light fresh air.

The world was still spinning.

Life was continuing as though nothing had changed. As though everything were perfect.

What right did the sun have to shine on this day of all days? How could everything seem so pleasantly normal when her heart was in shreds?

Drip. Drip.

Two droplets of water fell onto the damp headstone. There was no way to be sure if they came from her or the weeping willow above. She was a tiny blotch of black against the vibrant green of the cemetery grounds.

With trembling hands, she reached forward to trace the name of the man she would never stop loving. Mallory Lascaux. The stone was hard and unyielding beneath her fingertips. Just as his reality had been.

A man with long hair that blended in with the black hue of his coat supported her as she sat on the balls of her feet. Beside him, a small girl with airy black curls, round brown eyes and a fine boned face held tightly to his hand. She was confused. Every year they came to this place and did the same thing. It made no sense.

Alice's fingers slipped from the headstone. "Shun…can I have I moment alone please?"

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her tear stained cheek. "Hai."

The little girl glanced from him to her. "Let's go Aria." A little frown his the relief she felt inside. It was always painful seeing her mother like this.

Shun led his five year old daughter away from the graves and death to the centre of the yard. Water winked off the surface of a clear glistening pool. Wooden benches damp with dew lined the edge. "Look! Daddy look! There are swans on the water." Aria cried as she hopped onto a bench, not caring that her coat was getting wet. Shun followed suit and swept her up onto his lap.

It was true. There were swans on the water. They hadn't ever seen swans when they'd been here before. Both father and daughter were mesmerized by the way the birds gracefully cut through the water, barely even stirring the lilies in their wake.

"Daddy, the flowers are so beautiful."

"Yeah, they are."

"Why don't we have any flowers at home? Maybe if I give one to Mommy that will cheer her up." She sounded uncertain. In these months, nothing was ever certain with Mommy. Only Shun seemed to understand her.

"Aria, you should never give your mother flowers, okay. It'll make her mad."

His eyes glossed over and a few tears threatened to spill.

"Daddy, who is this man we visit every year? What happened to him? Why won't anyone ever tell me?"

Suddenly everything seemed too bright and harsh on his eyes. Too cheerful.

"I'll tell you when you're older. Here. Go feed those swans."

He handed her a paper bag filled with a thick baguette. She puffed out her cheeks and cocked her head defiantly but took it anyway.

"That's what you always say."

Once she was thoroughly engaged in her swan feeding, he sank into the seat and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes to staunch the flow of tears.

Of course it didn't work.

She had him pinned against the island. The hard granite dug painfully into his back. Blood was pounding in her ears and over it she could hardly hear the sound of her own erratic breathing. Everything was painfully sharp in her vision. All senses were heightened by the adrenaline that coursed through her. Right then, he looked so broken, so vulnerable, he almost made her forget the weight of the pistol in her hands. Terrified green eyes flicked from it to her face and back again. He had a hand held up before him defensively, as if he could stop bullets like Neo. But this wasn't a movie. This was real.

She could literally see him shaking. Yes, he was petrified that she held his life in her hands now, but also that he'd driven her to this point. They both knew he was afraid of himself.

Conflict was tearing her apart. She wanted nothing more than to drop her stupid weapon and pretend this was all a silly dream. A nightmare. But at the same time she wanted to hurt him as badly as he'd hurt her. She knew too well how ruthless he was.

So when he took a step closer, she held the gun tighter.

"Alice," his voice trembled as much as he did.

"Shut up." He was going to plead with her, and if he managed to do that, then there was no way she could go through with this.

"Alice, please…" He reached out to her, desperate. She kept the gun trained on him. Tried not to think about how clear his eyes were. Tried to ignore the genuine apology in his voice. "Shut- Shut up Mallory. Stay back."

He didn't. She was now against the wall and the pistol pressed up against his diaphragm was all that separated them.

"Please, Alice. You don't understand."

"I told you to shut up!"

And he did. All she heard was an awful ringing in her ears. Time flowed more slowly than it usually did.

She made the mistake of looking up into those green eyes she could read so well. Every emotion he was feeling was broadcast to her. The hurt, agony, horror, panic, and above all sorrow. Intense sorrow that would haunt her for years. But there was something else there too. Relief.

She watched him fall to the ground with a damp thud. His life was already leaking out of him and staining everything it touched. The bouquet of white anthuriums that was forgotten on the floor took on a new colour. She watched it soak up the red like water then morph into a deep pool of gore that pulled her under. The last thing she remembered seeing was a pair of unusual amber eyes staring worriedly into her own.

Shun nearly carried up his lunch when he stepped into the kitchen. It was hard to walk without slipping. Mallory's blood was everywhere. He was too late. Alice lay crumpled some distance away from him. "Shun?"

He jumped when he heard the frail voice. It was a surprise the man was still alive. Not heeding the gore, Shun kneeled to his friend's side. "Mallory, what the hell happened here?!"

He pried already cold fingers away from the wound. "How did…you...know to come…here?"

Confusion was still evident in his breathy gasps. Shun looked him over. The doctors had told him what to expect, but now that he was dying right by his side, everything felt so much more real. He could feel his tears running down his face and saw where they met Mallory's then disappeared into the sea of red. All it took was one look.

"Y...ou found out?" Shame and embarrassment clouded his green eyes, followed by a wet hacking cough.

In another world, they would have reunited under different circumstances. Shun would have assured him that his disorder wasn't his fault. That he had no reason to be ashamed. But this wasn't that world.

"Shun...no time."

The raven haired man suddenly regained his speech and mobility. Mallory sensed it. A weak, shaking hand lifted to point at a set of drawers directly above him.

"Look inside...the last...at bottom...stack of wipes with...with m...y initials." His sentence trailed off and his eyes began to close.

By this time panic had made its home in Shun's gut. "Hey! Mallory! Please stay awake." He slapped his face hard with one hand and fumbled with his cell in the other.

The blonde's eyes snapped open. "No. No paramedics," he moaned. Shun looked at him dumbly. What did he mean no paramedics? He would surely die if he didn't call...but then again, even if he did… His eyes trailed down to the wound again. Calling now would only be a waste of time. Mallory's smile was rueful but his gaze beseeching. He was begging for his friend's trust, even while on his deathbed.

With a whimper, Shun replaced the phone.

"O...on top of the c...cabinet, there's a...med...med...medicine case." Shun cringed. It was getting harder to form words. He started working while Mallory spoke.

"Bring it. Bring...the gun too."

Shun tried not to think about anything but his three simple tasks. He had the wipes out in a flash, the gun on the floor beside them and after hauling himself onto the counter, he brought down a small metal case.

More coughs and wheezes in the background made him scramble for everything like a mad man.

Once he had returned to his side, Mallory continued. "Clean...your hands with..wipes. Open case."

Shun did as he was told. He was confused. Inside the case were several copies of a booklet and a single container of pills.

"Cure...Alice...damage from brief psychosis sy...syndrome." His hands gripped the folds of Shun's jacket with surprising force for a dying man. "This….is...least...as apology. Ensure she...takes it. Now...wipe gun thor…ough...ly. No touch...with hands."

Shun carefully closed the case and put it aside, then began to work on the gun. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Mallory squeezing down on his bullet wound to keep himself painfully awake. "I'm done," he croaked out.

Mallory took it in both hands. "Burn... wipes. T...take care of her. S...say it was s...suicide." Somewhere in his small body, he found the strength to remove a hand from the gun and reach up to caress his friend's cheek.

"Th...thank you so much Shun," he forced out the words with great effort. "I am so so sorry. Take her now and leave please… I don't…want you to see."

Shun couldn't gauge what his reactions were or how he had gotten Alice and himself out of the house. He could only remember seeing his close friend squeeze his eyes shut, press the gun barrel beneath his chin and pull the trigger back hard.

Oh…by the way, cafard means depression. Your opinions and suggestions are welcome.

~Anne Callendar