Life is a number of events strung together by chance. Each moment, each experience is one of a myriad of possibilities in a probability equation. It could be that some things ended up this way but because of a cog in the machine, there was a certain malfunction- and there! History is rewritten.
People are aware of it. Some know and they try to make it all go to their advantage. They think carefully over every decision, analyzing even the minutest details in depth. They monopolize the variables to steer a predictable outcome. But even then, these great chess masters, wherever and whoever they may be, are striving for a goal that cannot be met.
It's The Factor.
Unknown, unstoppable, unpredictable, underestimated, unexpected, all the un- words that were meant to define a leak in the pipe. And perhaps, whether it is the cruel taunts of an unjust god or the natural laws of the universe being met, the best-laid plans are always sure to go awry.
Meet Diva the Chiropteran.
She is The Factor.
------------------------------
"Brush faster," she whined to Karl, who was brushing her hair.
"Get a me a new doll," she demanded of Amshel after breaking (not on purpose) all the ones she owned.
"Buy me a new dress," she whimpered to Nathan after Saya ripped a bullet through her old one.
"I'm thirsty," she complained to James, whom she could smell fresh blood on.
There was no end to her daily requests. Diva knew she was technically their queen, and as such, she had the ability - no, the right to exercise her authority to whatever extent and as often as she liked. Her chevaliers resigned to this daily chore of pampering with minimal resistance. Some were only too pleased to take the ridiculous challenges thrust upon them.
If Diva was happy, they were happy.
The only one she could not order around was Solomon. He wandered around like a little lost lamb (boohoo lost his shepherd because he had to follow Saya to school one day, school another day.) But the lamb would never wander her way, so she supposed that meant something.
Most of all, Diva didn't like that distracted look on his face. She could almost taste his wavering loyalty; it flickered like the flame on a dying candle. It was almost dawning on her that she would have to discard him soon. He was certainly a defect if he couldn't pay attention to his queen.
Through it all, he was still wearing white - the color commemorating his allegiance to her so many years ago - and it was enough to make her a little sad.
Adding to Solomon's recent questionable activities, life was getting terribly dreary since the last Red Shield clash. She could feel her chevaliers' spirits dampening. Diva felt she could almost sympathize with their disappointment. She didn't like being kept "indoors" for so long, either.
Whether or not there were some innards to be some innards to be splashing in, Diva was determined to liven up the place.
"I want to go somewhere beautiful," she told her chevaliers one morning.
"Where do you want to go, Diva?" asked Nathan humorously.
They had traveled everywhere around the world by then and he'd made sure that Diva saw the prettiest parts of each region. She was always given time to frolic through the meadows. She would pick wild berries, dip her feet in brooks, and terrorize neighboring villages.
The Chevaliers had given her free rein over the years (all except for Amshel who was a stick in the mud, but he was learning) and if asked, they would have said that Diva was the happiest girl that ever lived.
Where could she have possibly wanted to go?
Diva smiled widely, baring pointy teeth. "Where all the humans go if they're not careful."
Unsure, Amshel coughed. "Where would that be?"
Diva giggled. She tapped her foot lightly on the terrace. "You know, down here."
Silence. There was something almost like a murmured whimper from Karl.
"I've read all about them in that really big book with the crosses on it - oh, you know, Amshel, the ones in the library."
Though no one would expect it of her, Diva liked reading.
She liked the stories with pain and suffering but she liked happy endings the most.
She was sad when Juliet died, Charlotte spun her last web, and Jesus was hung on the cross. It made her cry, and cry, and cry until she wondered why she even read it in the first place (because peeking at last pages should always give you some hint).
By the end, she had concluded that it was not her fault that "depressingly ever afters" came to her doorstep like kittens for milk.
"Solomon, your name is in it. And James and Nathan – except it says Nathaniel."
They stared at her, stupefied.
Diva (their queen, lover, mother, sister, daughter and everything else) was asking of them something they could not grant.
As if sensing their doubts, Diva pursed her lips and bounced on the balls of her feet impatiently.
They were still (so, so still) and almost seemed to forget how to breathe. Whatever words they wished to speak had died on their lips and were pushed back down to the thick tension fogging up in the back of their throats. The men could only stare back, deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression.
She watched them back with mystified eyes, raising on end the fine hairs off the backs of their necks.
Diva disappeared.
They shut their eyes tightly.
She's behind us.
The chevaliers shuddered as a ghostly hand pried its icy fingernails into the chords of their spines…
Lingering.
Diva took a languorously long whiff of the air. The enticing smell of fear…Diva grinned.
Singling out a certain traitorous blonde, Diva gently wrapped her arms around him and tiptoed up. His paling skin and jutting blue veins made her pause at his neck.
She could hear the catch in his throat, the badumpbadumpbaDUMP of his quickening heartbeat…
"Solomon," she sang like the little girl she never was. "Don't be scared. Mummy just wants a wee snack."
He panicked, throwing caution to the wind. Solomon grabbed her and gave one great push, sailing her fifteen yards and headfirst into the head of the water fountain.
Solomon took a great leap across the yard. He ran like he had never run before. The grassy terrain seemed to pulse beneath each step, breathing to an unheard beat. The idiot manor boasted a wide berth of land, but his chevalier abilities had brought him far, the house was five steps away…
Four…With a great cry, Solomon was thrown against the ground with tremendous force. The mounds of dirt flew up around him as he formed a distinctly human sized crater in the earth. His head buzzed, vaguely assuming a plane had driven him into the ground.
No such luck.
It was Diva.
She wasn't in a flying rage, but neither was she butterflies and picnic baskets. Instead, she had an unreadable expression on her face. Her mouth was a thin line, and there was a slight hint of perplexity in the way that her cheeks were tensed.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Solomon laughed into his shoulder. Oh, he was dead. Nothing would change her mind now…
His shoulders shook.
I am sorry Diva, my queen. I have betrayed your trust. Saya…His lips quivered, wishing he could have said one final farewell. He didn't even have a chance to tell her! And now he never would.
I love you.
"Get up!"
A hand dragged him out of the ditch with ease, and when he lifted his head, he saw it was Diva. Realizing she still had a hold of his ankle, he crawled in a last attempt to get away.
"I don't know what's wrong with you, but-"
Solomon screamed. She pulled his arms back with brutal force, and dug her skinny knees into his back. A crocodile had him by the jaws once, some forty years ago, and he remembered it feeling exactly like this. His joints creaked painfully, they would snap any minute now if she didn't let go – but he didn't have to worry because, because -
Then she sank her teeth into his jugular vein.
Cringing, the other chevaliers stood back. They knew what would follow next.
Solomon threw his head back.
The pain was unbearable. The initial impact sent him nearly thrashing onto the floor in agony; it was enough to make tears spring from the corners of his eyes.
At first he struggled, he kicked his legs and wiggled helplessly like a fish out of water. Nobody would help him. His so-called brothers were mere spectators in Diva's game of cat and mouse. If anything, they also were cats.
He was losing blood fast. Solomon was now too drowsy to fight back, much less perceive that he was dying.
Somewhere during that time, Diva had propped him up onto a chair and plopped herself into his lap. She continued to drink, indulging in her drooping chevalier.
Through the burning fire raging in his neck and the slender angel nestled against his chest, he saw blue eyes.
Glowing and untarnished, they were nothing at all like his.
Finally, in the hazy spaces of his fast diminishing mind, he convinced himself that they were dousing the fire, though he knew the opposite to be true.
Then there was darkness.