Braoin Mercilla
Pip died at 5:45 that morning, no one was in the hospital then. No pretty flowers surrounded her bed; no one heard that heartbreaking ring of the heart monitor. She just lay there, pale and calm. Her face and lips bruised, her cheeks bloody and scratched up. The next day the people would say she was white as the pillow, her red hair gone from silk to dingy copper. No one knew what had happened to her, she had just entered the hospital a few days before and was beyond all capability to speak.
It was 12:30 on a Friday night, the air vibrated with the thought of spring. It had been raining for several days and the streets and stone courtyards were practically flooded. It was a chilly day but she did care, all that she wanted to do was run.
She ran through the ever-familiar woods, and the smell of the wet seemed to calm her burning emotions. She ran as fast as she could, and as fast as running in the dark could permit her. But thankfully there were some traces of the Lady Moon, through her vast blanket of clouds. Pip hated her life, she hated being ignored and left behind. She hated her family, friends, and the hand she was dealt. 'It's our anniversary damn-it; one fucking day that we called it a year and he called it quits. Stupid Pat, stupid world, stupid everything', Pat her ex-boyfriend and her went out exactly a year today. But then again things change and he decided all the problems were hers and he left her. 'It is high school but you cant be much more shallow or mean-spirited'. She ran into the on coming morning, her destination was a small tree about five or so miles into the woods; it's been her safe haven. It's her own little world of fairies and magic, it's her place to find her self.
Pip hated her fairylike complexion, extreme red hair, white skin and blue eyes. She hated how she was pretty and not plain, she hated being catcalled and bitched at. She would have preferred to be Amish but then such as life. She would sit in the woods at night and gather her self up, or what was left of it. Some how she felt part of something or that someone who cared watched over her there. She loved this feeling because it imposed no threat to her.
Braoin Mercilla walked alone that night in the woods. He has walked these woods for as long as he can remember and that has been close to a hundred or so years. It's hard to know what you are and talk to someone, so he just preferred to be alone. Of course there were others like him and there were whole towns and colonies but why wonder through them to find all the same thing? No he loved the woods and wanted to be alone. It seems funny to him now how he once had it all and now it is all gone.
Braoin once owned a farm a most prosperous one at that. He had a wife, Myra who he loved beyond all Earthly ties. Their house was rather large and was on the edge of their estate. It was magnificent, romantically furnished and white. A beautiful turn of the century farmhouse indeed!
Myra was the one who made it all worth it, he couldn't live without her. She had jetty curls, and a pleasant complexion. And she seemed to always be laughing it was like ice in a wine glass perfect and irreplaceable. The best part was that they were starting a family a beautiful, wonderful family. Nothing could make his life more perfect, but then disaster stuck; and shattered his dreams and family to pieces.
Fire plagued the house, its temping kiss engulfing the entire house. The wood burned quickly, Braoin got out. He ran out of the house and he looked for Myra, he called and called, but there was no answer. Then screams arouse from the house and he knew whose it was. He ran closer almost about to reenter the home when a pair of hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him violently back. They shook him and a voice practically yelled his name, but it seemed so distant so surreal. " Why? Why now, let me go back" he could barely utter this phrase but somehow they understood it.
Slowly the voice replied, "There is nothing to go back to!" Braoin tuned his head too look at where his house once stood. Nothing remained it was all a flame, just then the roof collapsed and the screams died almost instantly but not before uttering one last hopeless, heart wrenching cry of utter despair. There in that house, that night died his wife and unborn child.
Chapter one.
It's about six months later and the cool autumn air chilled her all the way through her coat. The night was still and sweet, leaves crunched beneath her feet as she walked the slicked pavement towards her house. She was ready to change, she had spent all summer sleeping around and getting drunk. Pip could hardly believe what had happened to her. She was no longer this fairylike girl; she was tough her long curly hair was choppy, short and jet-black. She was paler than ever and wore slinky clothes that showed off her every move, she also works in this new gothic club 'Eternal Legacy'.
She walked up the street of identical white houses that should only exist in Leave It To Beaver, or some such nonsense. Every so often there was a car that would drive up the lane, and seem to slow down she how she looked then speed up and drive off into the darkness. The rear lights reminded her of cigarettes, their glowing red embers in contrast to the darkness. About fifteen minutes later she arrived at the club, and could feel the base vibrations through the pavement. There were never any cars out side the building but it was always packed and hardly a place to sit.
Tonight was no different, but it was slightly less crowed. Ida was working at the bar, and she seemed to be as dark and sultry as ever. She had a Hispanic background and had dark curly hair and always wore black lipstick and garters. Tonight she wore a red corset and a white miniskirt, and red garters. She looked as if she had come from some gothic-porno fantasy.
The club was naturally a dark place, mirrors surrounded the walls and the black wood bar was the perfect touch. Smoke filled the air, and the bass make everything shake. The most dramatic tough was the red and white strobe lights the made you dizzy, it also made it somewhat scary. Like in those horror movies where nothing is going on but it gives you an eerie feeling.
"Pippin I am going to skin you alive!" Cried Ida over the bass. Pip knew she was late but it really didn't matter not tonight anyways. It wasn't exactly busy, just a couple of people huddled at the spindly tables.
"Chill, ok I was just bored" Ida looked at her
"Take this she said, it makes everyone feel better" Ida handed her a bottle of vodka. "No charge." She added. Pip felt bad for the poor guy who had to pay for the entire bottle.
Her shift finally ended it was approximately three-thirty in the morning. She wasn't remotely tiered, but took the long way home. So that she could make a detour so she could go traipsing about the woods and sit in her tree.
After about twenty minutes of walking she came upon the huge gnarled stump of her willow tree. She quickly hoisted herself up into the tree with catlike grace.
"I don't remember asking for company, in my tree," said a calm voice behind her.
"Well you can just fucking deal with that, and this is my tree" Pip replied. She still had the dizzying effects of half a bottle of vodka in her system. Grumpily, she grabbed the bottle out of her side bag and took a sip of the now warm liquid.
"I didn't know they let silly little girls drink"
"I didn't know they let assholes walk around freely" she replied her speech slightly slurred.
The man then jumped out of the tree, and Pip notices he wasn't a man at all but a boy. A gangly boy, black hair and pale skin: definitely odd but a boy all the same. His eyes they had a more wizened look to them, they weren't a boys; those eyes belonged to nothing mortal. The moon gave his pale skin a glowing look and he looked to inviting, and calm. She was losing herself in his complexion and those eyes, no one could resist.
"Ha!" he laughed "How is being drunk and pissed off working for you?" he asked as he jumped out of the tree. Pip was going to answer but she then lost her grip on the tree and fell, and suddenly the boy caught her! He soon righted her and then walked away.
Pip watched him go still in shock from fall ten feet out of a tree; she wasn't aware that she was shaking or that she had stopped breathing. The only thing that seemed to be on her mind was who was he? He wasn't anyone from around here, this sunny bright community (which she hated desperately). He was dark, and different.
She walked home that night in a haze; her mind was spinning and her heart racing. The darkness seemed warm almost alive, the black trees just seemed to move out of her way. Everything just hummed with electricity and out of the corner of her eye she would see dark blue spots. They seemed to be looking at her hungrily. 'Its just my imagination there inst anything there. It's the vodka, yes it's the vodka; and falling out of trees' she told herself but somewhat halfheartedly. The feeling of being watched sent shivers up her spine and made her quicken her pace. And she longed for being back home and out of the silly woods!
Finally she turned onto Cherry Lane, and the old Victorian houses that haunted that street. They were rather new compared to her 1830's Victorian mansion. There were all the early 1900's ragtime homes the last ones to grace their era. Her family's didn't cost much seeing as it was still furnished and in okay repair. The story was odd, though; apparently all the Hawkins family disappeared, all eight children and servants. But that was hundreds of years ago, and who knows maybe they moved or fled. She didn't really care its just like a fact but no one else seemed to be to keen on that house knowing its history.
She entered the beautiful and large parlor, and she could hear her stepmother swearing and cursing as she did the dishes; which made loud banging noises as they hit the bottom of the sink. Pip quickly dashed up the stairs, quiet as a shadow and scared of being caught. Her step other and her had a classic fairytale relationship, Julie hated her and she hated Julie.
The stairs threatened to creak with her every step, but finally she reached the top and walked the long hallway to the west wing corridor. Her room was plain and ordinary for the houses time, it was a beautiful crimson and mahogany room. She flopped down onto the bed, and no sooner had she done that the oddly calm waves of sleep and liquor took over her.
She was falling; black was this spinning vortex around her; with vivid silver shapes moving too fast to be recognized. Abruptly she was then flung into a shining forest of birch trees. The sun was shining in golden rapture all around the premise. She was looking up at everything; a terrible pain in her stomach like someone poured acid on her. She moved her hand to where the pain was and noticed a small but deep cut and wetness. Pip moved her head ever carefully to see what had happened. She wasn't wearing anything she recognized. It was a red medieval looking dress with gold and burgundy trim. She was dying she could see the wet and sickening darkened red around her navel. That's how it would end, being stabbed and dying in a damn forest.
There was movement around her she could hear the frantic footsteps, then suddenly the boy appeared. The one from the woods, he was beautiful in white and silver. The sun seemed to just be shining for him, and then suddenly he saw her and his expression darkened. He had tears in his eyes; he looked at her pathetically lying on the ground. Then he spoke his words soft his manner calm.
"You foolish girl, look what happened to you! Rosalind, Rosalind don't die. Open your eyes; I can't help you if you don't. " She could hear every word he spoke but couldn't bring herself to answer him. Every ounce of her hurt and her navel burned so badly it was like she was being set on fire. "Oh God, why now. Look you have a choice. You could never die, you can stay the way you are forever young and youthful and watch everything change and never, never die!"
When she did speak it was very hard too, it took a lot of breath; breath that she didn't have.
"Braoin, my dear. I'm not dying. " This voice wasn't hers it was soft, and sweet but very; very weak. "Promise me that you'll find me later, for I will always be taken from you. Never peace Braoin, promise"
"Yes, yes, I promise. Rosalind you can't leave me like this!" he pleaded tears streaming from his eyes.
"Promise," she replied even more faintly.
"Of course" he kissed her hand, it was cold to the touch. Her breathing was much more ragged and pained.
"Curse, I'm cursed" she half gasped, "It's so cold. Its so cold." Braoin grabbed her in his arms, as she slowly went limp and stopped breathing all together.
Pip was no longer in that body, but watched the scene from standing near by. Everything was empty looking. Like a beautiful painting; the silver he wore shined in the sun, her brown hair splayed on the ground complemented the beautiful crimson of her dress. He was holding her, a cadaver: a cursed cadaver. But who honestly believes in curses.
Braoin looked up at her, he seemed focused on her. His eyes red, his jaw set. When se spoke it was not the kind, loving voice it was the coldest voice she ever heard someone speak "if you leave me now, shall I be damned until I find you again!" Pip didn't know if he was actually talking to her or Rosalind.
She didn't stay to find out, she ran though the woods as fast as she could, but all she could see was glimpses of memories, parties, a burning house, ever little detail so clear. But were the memories real? 'Who cares' she told her self 'I am not going into one of those, what if that creep is fallowing me? What did he mean?'
"Pippin get up! You lazy ass girl, get up, get up!" Her stepmother shouted at her. She opened her eyes and felt like she was staring at the sun and quickly shut them again. Her head was in splitting pain and she didn't want to move. "Its ten-thirty! You're late!"
"Julie it's Saturday! I don't have school you freaking druggie!" she shouted at Julie, even though it made her head pound it was worth it just to rip Julie a new one.
"Well get up anyways, you going to run to the store for me. Here is the list, now get your ass in gear and get moving!" She said rather matter of factly. She handed over a colorful piece of paper and printed in her thin script was the list.
Pip walked down the street grudgingly, she hated when Julie made her do stupid errands. She aw some bits of broken cement lying on the broken pavement so she kicked them along the road, or until they landed in the street.
The store was little crowded just the typical old woman sitting behind the counter and looking at you suspiciously. It was actually rather unnerving, even though Pip knew she was going to pay for everything she bought. She quickly loaded her cart with all the things on the list- milk, eggs, tampax, and the other typical items.
While walking up and down the aisles, something caught her attention. It was a voice, it sounded across the store. Even though they appeared to be talking in jovial tones they seemed forced. Pip quickly walked up the aisle, but was careful to be quiet. She saw the two men they were standing in front of refrigerators with multicolored commercial sodas and juices. They had smiles on their faces, and piercing cold looks in their eyes.
One was slightly taller and had brown hair and green eyes, with contrasted to the jerk she met at the park with jetty hair and icy eyes. The taller one was speaking
"Look I don't care what you saw, or what you think you saw. No magic can bring Myra back not one thing! I personally-" He was suddenly cut off by a overly joyful laugh, but the voice that spoke wasn't at all joyful.
"I don't want Myra back, that was two-hundred years ago! Look you pompous triste, I am here for one sole purpose and that doesn't involve you or your little brain dead minions. -" This time he was cut off.
"Braoin M.A.S. is not a fucking little tea party, it's not for you to decide what goes on! Do you even know it means?" The man asked looking furious.
"Yes I know what it means, but this is not slaughter! She means something and I damn well what to know what it is!" Braoin replied fiercely.
"Well its not a good idea, we have been watching her longer than you have. Get that silly notation out of your mind that it will make any difference!"
"I could wear your heart as a necklace Simon, now tell me how would that make you feel?" he answered coolly
"You're just pissed because Brandon died, he was actually the only triste who trusted you more than anyone else. Look what happened to him, DEAD! It's your fault and these dreams have got to stop."
"Shut up for a second, someone is listening…Ah, Pip nice of you to join us. Its not really pippin though. Is it, Lily. No not Lily anymore, not since mom died was it."
Pip's heart caught in her throat, no one knows what her real name was not even Julie. She didn't move or say anything but the two men moved in closer to get a better view of her. Braoin looked smug, while the other Simon looked at her baffled.
"Yes, Yes I see it now she does look like her." Simon said in bemused awe.
"This is what I told you, but no you have to meddle!" Braoin said hurt.
Pip didn't know what to think she just walked away, as fast as she could and didn't bother to bring her shopping cart with her. 'Julie can do her own grocery shopping' she thought. She practically jumped into her car and speed out of the parking lot; she wanted to be anywhere, anywhere but there at least. She drove to her friend Sarah's house as fast as she could.
As usual no one answered the door right away, but she saw the door fly open and a tousled hair A.J. being throw out the door. There her friend Sarah stood trying to straighten out her shirt. "Pip? What are you doing here? Its only noon don't you have any morning courtesy!" she said playfully
"Well noon starts the P.M." she replied callously
"Well you don't interrupt perfectly good, good morning sex just to tell me that!" she said; by and by she did let Pip in and they sat on the couch. "Sweetie you don't look to hot, are you ok?" she asked with a concerned look on her face.
"Yeah I am fine." She replied, not hiding the exhaustion in her voice "Just sleepy"
"Well your leg with a bloody gash doesn't look 'fine just sleepy' to me" she replied. Pip looked down and sure enough her leg had a huge gash in it, it was bleeding freely.
"Oh I just snagged it on a shelf at the store" she replied, which could be all good and true judging on how fast she left.
"Well let's clean it up or you can bleed all over my couch and buy me a nice green leather one!" She said half laughing, because it really wasn't out of Pip's nature to get unexpected cuts and burses. After the cut was cleaned and more painfully sterilized, she noticed it was about 4 inches long, and it was also deep but would no require stitches. "Damn, you do serious damage, are you sure it was a shelf and not a straight edge?"
"Very funny, look can I crash here tonight?" She asked and looked hopeful she wasn't exactly peachy keen to go back home.
"Sure if you don't mind me going out for a while" she said and had this innocent face painted on but you knew that her intentions weren't.
"Yes cant keep A.J. waiting can you?" she replied as Sarah ran out the door. Pip was happy to rest her head against the cool fabric of Sarah's couch. She could still hear the faint humming of the refrigerator. Slowly she felt her eyes closing no matter how hard she tried. She lost track of when her eyes truly shut, but in her mind she was still starting at the entertainment center and scuffed up coffee table.
A lonely piano started playing, the music flowed through her and she could hear every chord and every note. She was still starting at Sarah's living room. The music seemed to be coming from the air. It was so lonely, and hallow.
Then a tinkling melody started playing it was almost crying it was so pathetic and desolate. Pip; suddenly felt the room slip away from her. She felt like she was swallowing huge amounts of water. She tried frantically to relieve herself of the pressure that was building up around her. She felt like she was sitting at the bottom of a deep pool, the pressure was steadily pressing against her ears and her lungs were burning from lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, all the pressure was gone. She found that she could breath again, and was greedily inhaling icy frigid air. The air was dry and it burned her lungs terribly. When she had caught her breath she looked around her to see where she was.
She was sitting on a frozen lake; above her there was a dark purple sky and a multitude of diamond like stars. In the distance she could see the silhouettes of trees surrounding the lake. They were pressed black against the stormy deep purple sky. Beyond the trees she could see the outline of a forgotten medieval castle.
Then the air suddenly because still it seemed to hum with anticipation of something, it was as if an electric charge had been sent though the air. An echoing voice cut though the silence, "She who disturbs the solitude of Dabria, you seek counseling among the condemned. A life of solitude and anger, what birthrights have you, that that entitles you to enter my realm. The realm of the dead." The voice that spoke was female; it had this bitter and hurt quality about it. Pip noticed then that the ice under her feet was glowing a faint purple, then the glassy ice, shattered. The sound was like she never heard, it was sheer torture, and it was a lonely sound, the sound of true suffering.
There was then a soft patter sound coming from behind her, Pip turned to look at what was making that sound. Standing behind her was a girl. A very strange girl but a girl nonetheless. She was extremely pale and her face was mostly hidden by waves of curly honey brown hair. She had these soft features, and abnormally large brown eyes. She looked like one of those ballerinas you would find in Swan Lake, but the way she moved was awkward, and overly fluid.
"I am the mother goddess, I am the Queen of the Damned, cursed by my own." Her pale cracked lips never moved but her voice echoed in the air. "Princess Dabria the forgotten. I am the ice princess."
Pip was surely taken aback by her appearance, and she tried to control her expression. The girl almost resembled a bird, silly as that may sound but particularly a phoenix.
"A curse I lay upon your blood, a curse that is condemned by one true love. If his knife should slice your gut, then you both shall die of love not lust" this bird-girl hummed to herself. she out stretched her hand to touch Pip's face but when she got close she would sharply draw her hand back.
"What about this curse" Pippin asked
"Drawn and quartered, by the four points will you die, drawn and quartered" the girl replied. She had a soft smile now, and she seemed to go with a knowledge that could destroy a person.