Part 1
Neo sat up straight in his cot. His dark hair was in a matted mess all about his
head and his palms were sweating. He couldn't seem to catch his breath for a
moment, then it finally came to him. Neo propped himself up on his arms, still
sitting on the cot and waiting for his vision to come back into focus. After
blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes everything turned from a big dark blur
into something much more beautiful.
Trinity.
Trinity stepped over to Neo, running her fingers through his hair then leaning
down to look in his eyes
"You okay?"
Neo didn't respond for a moment, he was still staring through Trinity like she
wasn't there. He shook his head and shuddered, then looked back up at Trinity,
having a sort of confused and bewildered look on his face.
"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost..."
"Something's happening..." Neo said quietly, his eyes searching Trinity's face
for her expression. Trinity paused for a moment, then sat down on the cot in
front of Neo. She folded one leg under herself and let the other leg hang off
the side of the bed. Trinity took one of Neo's hands and waited for him to keep
talking.
When he didn't, and all he did was look down at the palm that wasn't occupied by
Trinity, Trinity decided she had to encourage him.
"What's happening?"
Neo didn't look at trinity for a moment, then he glanced up, directly at her. He
responded bluntly,
"I don't know."
*~---~* *~---~* One week earlier *~---~* *~--~*
Fiona Nelson sat down in the chair in front of her computer. She pressed her
thumb firmly on the button on the monitor, and it flipped on. After a few
seconds, the black of the screen faded back into her desktop. The few icons were
scattered on top of the desktop background. The background was a symbol that
Fiona had found on the internet that meant 'Self'. She placed her well-worked
and dry palm of her left hand onto the mouse and scooted it over. She double
clicked on the icon titled 'internet connection'. Fiona typed in her password
then leaned back in her chair, waiting for it to connect.
There were no regular lights on in the room. There was only a string of all
green christmas lights that twisted around on the walls and up onto the ceiling.
The tiny green bulbs set off an eerie glow to the room that Fiona liked. The only
other light source in the room came from the computer monitor. A dull glow
radiated from the screen, lighting up Fiona's face.
Fiona's stark black raven hair with silver streaked grown-out bangs carresed the
sides of her baby-ish face. Her crystal eyes were two very noticeably different
shades. Her left was a startlingly deep blue with a dark green ring around the
outside of the iris, and the other eyes was dark brown with shards of green very
faintly showing. Fiona's thin eyebrows were set off by a shiny ring set at the
end of her right one. She wore no makeup, and she had no blemishes; which was
rare for a 16-year-old girl. Fiona was a rather thin girl, though she was deceptively
strong. Placed upon her upper half was a tight black tank top with the symbol for
radioactive in neon green coloring. -Very- baggy jeans set around her thin legs,
covering her combat boots underneath. Fi never wore any jewelry, for certain reasons...
After a few minutes of desperatley trying to connect to the internet, but not
meeting with success, Fiona eventually got her computer to work.
"Finally!" Fiona muttered, smacking the side of the computer with her palm.
She opened her normal chat program, to talk to her online friends...
Other Hackers.
It was almost 1 o'clock in the morning, and yet the band of 3 guy hackers (and
now one girl) chatted relentlessly into the night. During the day, Fiona was not
considered 'popular' at her high school but she wasn't thought of as a nerd. She
was just another girl, who always wore black.
Typo Imp: Boo.
Cookie: Yeah, that's what I was thinking--HEY! HI TYPO!
Amp: Hey you! Where the hell have you been?
Typo Imp: Busy. I don't live on the computer...unlike SOME people I know.
Hawk: I saw that.
Typo Imp: LoL Hawk, 'Oooooh nooooo! Not the suuuun!'
Hawk: Hey! okay, just because I'm paler than powdered sugar doesn't mean you
have the right to poke fun at my insecurities.
Cookie: LoL!
Hawk: Silence Cookie, I know where you live!
Amp: No shit, sherlock. He's your cousin.
Typo Imp: Dawn comes to marble head...
Hawk: *laughs* Typo, I'm gonna kick your ass!
Typo Imp: I'd like to see you try hun, I'd like to see you try! Plus, you kinda
live 2000 miles away from me, so unless you somehow find a way to get to me,
you're screwed.
Cookie: How'd you know where he lives?
Typo Imp: I'm a hacker, moron.....plus, he told me.
Hawk: hehehe...
Cookie: oh. well I feel stupid.
Amp: Happens a lot, doesn't it?
Cookie: ALRIGHT! SHUT UP!
Typo Imp: What were you guys talking about anyway?
Amp: Guess.
Typo Imp: We're never going to figure out what the matrix is, maybe we should
stop trying.
Amp: She's psychic, I tell you!
Hawk: Have you got amnesia, Typo!? You're the one who wanted for us to so
desperatley figure out what it was.
Typo Imp: Yeah, but...
Cookie: I still think it's just some high-budget marketing ploy for a new game
that'll be revealed sometime in the near future...
Amp: Did I say you were psychic, Cookie? No! I didn't!
Hawk: Way ta make someone feel good, Amp.
Amp: Was I talking to you?
Typo Imp: Male testosterone at work...ahhh, ain't it beautiful?
Hawk: C'mon Typo, we can't give up on the matrix now...we've come so far.
Amp: What ARE you talking about Hawk? WE haven't come far at all! I have no idea
what the matrix is!!
Cookie: Yeah! Jesus....are you two not telling me and Amp something?
Typo Imp: Never mind that, Amp, Cookie. Hawk, go to the private room with me, I
need to talk to you. See you other guys later. Santa is watching.
(Typo Imp has left room)
(Hawk has left room)
Fiona closed the window, then opened another one, having to type in a password
to enter it.
Typo Imp: Hawk?
Hawk: Yeah, I'm here. What is wrong with you, Fi? Have you totally lost it?
Typo Imp: Don't call me Fi.
Hawk: That IS your name, right?
Typo Imp: I know that...I prefer my alias better.
Hawk: I'm not stupid Typo, I know that you're just trying to change the subject.
Typo Imp: I know..
Hawk: We actually did it, Typo. We were only a few seconds away from finally
getting into that file when the computer crashed...what's stopping you from
trying again? Did something happen to you?
Typo Imp: Maybe we should tell Cookie and Amp that we tried...
Hawk: No! You know we can't trust my cousin, OR his best friend.
Typo Imp: They're getting suspicious though...they're not stupid
Hawk: Good god, Typo! Stop changing the subject! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?
Typo Imp: They know about us.
Hawk: Who does?
Typo Imp: The Agency. Yesterday...
Hawk: How the hell would they be able to find out? We covered our tracks! Typo
I'm here for you, I'm not going to dissapear. If something happened to you I
need to know about it.
Typo Imp: Why?
Hawk: 'Cause I wouldn't be able to think straight if I knew something were
happening to you...
Typo Imp: .......
Hawk: Just ignore what I said. Tell me about yesterday.
Typo Imp: A man came to the house while my dad was still at work.
Hawk: I thought that your dad ALWAYS locked all the doors and windows!
Typo Imp: Yeah, from the OUTside
Hawk: Tell me you're kidding....you dad actually LOCKS you IN the house?
Typo Imp: We're not talking about my dad, okay?! Anyway, about the guy that
came: He was dressed in a suit, and he had sunglasses and an earpeice...He put
his hand around my throat so hard I couldn't breathe...and said Stop your
foolishness, Miss Nelson. All your precious Mr. O'Brien will find of you if you
continue...is nothing. We will erase you. he dropped me, then turned and left,
slamming the door.
Hawk: How would he have known about me OR you? oh my god...don't tell me you
went back and finished the project without me...
Typo Imp: I did...I know it was stupid! I guess they must have traced it back to
my computer...I set a virus in their mainframe.
Hawk: God damnit Typo!! You know you can't cover your tracks unless you have the
program, and only I HAVE THE PROGRAM!!!
Typo Imp: I know...
Hawk: You should be grateful they didn't arrest you! Typo you have to be more
careful, they're probably monitoring you now. Either that or me....Typo?
Typo Imp: what?
Hawk: Did you....see it?
Typo Imp: The matrix?
Hawk: Did you?
Typo Imp: .....no.....
Hawk: But you got through to the file! Do you have any better idea now as to
what it could be?
Typo Imp: I think it's a program...
Hawk: For what?
Typo Imp: I don't know....
Fiona sighed, putting her elbow on the desk by the keyboard, and putting her
forehead in her hand. She was about to start talking to Cary O'Brien (Hawk)
again, but then she heard a voice from the floor below.
"GET DOWN HERE!"
Fiona immediatley turned off her computer, not even taking the time to say
goodbye to Cary. She leapt up from her chair so fast that it tumbled back onto
the carpet with a muffled bump. She tore out of her room, papers fluttering up
from her desk then settling down comfortably again once she had passed. Her
sneakers that found themselves on the carpet as she ran, had momentary contact
with it. Fiona's heart was beating in her throat and she ran her hand down the
broken banister, leaping over the last few steps of the carpeted stairs. Her
feet landed noiselessly on the bottom floor. She'd learned to master the art of
running silently because who knows what HE might do if she made too much noise.
Fiona stood where she was, her chest heaving, and keeping her face straight
forward. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her father in the kitchen,
rummaging loudly through the refrigerator. The tinkling of bottles and cans
would be a plain sound for a normal person, but those sounds sent chills down
Fiona's spine. She very slowly turned her head, and when her face was towards
her father, he immediately looked up at her.
His eyes, though sunken deep into his head, had an icy glare. It would remind
one of looking down into a lake and suddenly seeing the face of a dead human
just below the surface. He had that sort of affect on people. The terrible old
skin that held in the bony flesh of his cheeks was patchy and raw, as though
maggots had been eating through it his whole life. When his thin lips pulled
back into a smile, he exposed rows of perfectly and almost disgustingly white
teeth that hadn't a spot on them. Though this is something that would be
appreciated on a normal person, it was regarded as possibly the most frightening
aspect of the man's features. Simply because everything else looked like it had
been rolled in a pile of dog leavings and stuck together in random places. His
long spindly arms seemed to literally be nothing but bone, because you could see
the joint of his elbow and shoulder. How he was so incredibly strong though so
incredibly skinny was still a confusion to Fiona, and she knew she could never
underestimate what he might do next.
After giving her a look that plainly said 'Move, and die,' he stuck his head
back into the fridge. Fiona had her arms folded quietly behind her back, her
eyes glued to her father. She wondered what he could be searching so intently
for, all that was in the fridge was beer, and she knew that's what he was
looking for. She held in a smirk, reminding herself that this man's intelligence
quotient couldn't possibly be above 2, because it takes 3 to grunt. She looked at the front door at
her left, just now realizing that it was left wide open. This meant simply that
her father was only here for a short time to probably get some money then head
back out. His wallet was on the counter so he most likely thought he'd get some
beer on the way. Fiona's heart fluttered a little bit, thinking of the slim
prospect of maybe being able to run for it.
She slowly turned her face back around to the fridge, but her father was nowhere
in sight. Immediatley a small sweat broke out on her forehead. The feeling she
had was similar to the feeling you would have if you'd just found out there was
a serial killer hiding in your house. She took one small step forward, then
suddenly felt an iron grip on the back of her small neck. She gagged, knowing
better than to struggle. She felt the hand move slowly around her neck, twisting
her skin painfully, and not loosening it's grip at all. Within a few moments,
her father's nose was a millimeter away from hers, and his eyes peirced directly
into hers. She couldn't breath for two reasons. One, the thumb squeezing
relentlessly into her windpipe, and two, the terrible fear. She knew what was
coming.
His other hand found itself suddenly on Fiona's mouth, his thumb and forefinger
digging deeply into her cheeks. Fiona's eyes were emotionless. She knew he
wanted to see her fear, but it just wasn't there for him to feast on. This made
him even more angry, and he spoke to her, little flecks of white spit flinging
from his horrid-smelling mouth as he did
"I know you're afraid, kiddo."
Fiona couldn't respond because she knew if she spoke back she'd pay dearly for
it, and no breath could escape her lungs. Her forehead and cheeks (that were
still pinched tightly in her father's fingers) started turning scarlet, as the
lack of air was getting to her.
If the man staring deeply into her eyes had just called her "Fiona" she would
have been about 3 times less scared. The fact that he always called her kiddo
set her nerves on a roller coaster ride without the seatbelt.
Suddenly his lips curled back, flashing his stunning teeth. Fiona almost showed
her mind-numbing fear but she had learned so hard not to. That damn smile. On a
day when he didn't happen to be throttling her, and he smiled....even then she
would lose her breath and feel as though she would throw up the little lunch she
had had that day.
Her cheeks began to turn purple, and he could tell she was losing conciousness.
He suddenly tightened his grip so hard on her neck that if he held it, it would
have snapped her spine. But then he dropped her unconcious body into a pile on
the floor. He leaned over her and picked his three beer bottles up from off the
bottom stair where he had left them. Looking one last time down at her, decided
that he wasn't finished with her. He situated the three bottles inbetween the
fingers on his left hand, leaving his right hand free. Going back into the
kitchen and pulling open a drawer, the sound of silverware rattling quickly
echoed around the room. His long spider-like fingers found what they were
looking for, then her father went over to Fiona's body and kneeled down beside
it. He smiled a loving smile, and dragged the steak knife deeply across her
exposed cheek.
~*Three hours later*~
Fiona Nelson's eyes opened to slits. All she could see was red. She slowly sat
up, though in order to she had to move her hand out to the side to support he
upper body. As soon as she moved her hand, she bit her lip in pain as the tips
of three of her fingers sliced against something sharp. Her vision came into
focus a little more, and she looked down at the steak knife that had been
dropped near her hand. Her head was swimming, and there was a blood stain on the
carpet. She got to her feet, putting her uninjured hand on the banister of the
staircase behind her. She kept her hand on the wall and stumbled slowly to the
bathroom. She opened the door and flicked on the switch, trying to see into the
large mirror. She had to wait until her eyes adjusted to the light, then she saw
it. A large diagonal cut ran from just above the left corner of her mouth to the
outside edge of her eye. It had mostly stopped bleeding, and the dried blood was
crusted to her face. The cut hadn't been deep enough to do more than just leave
an ugly scar, but it was enough to cause her to feel woosy from blood loss.
She fumbled around the bathroom until she found a washcloth and something to
clean the wound on her cheek and fingers. There were bruises all around her
neck, but she ignored the pain because she'd gotten much worse treatment before.
She cleaned out the cut on her cheek, wincing at the pain, but no tears came to
her eyes. She never cried. The fact that she never did often stimulated the
father to hurt her even more because he wanted to see her writhe about in pain
and beg for mercy. But she never did.
Her heart was made of stone.
Neo sat up straight in his cot. His dark hair was in a matted mess all about his
head and his palms were sweating. He couldn't seem to catch his breath for a
moment, then it finally came to him. Neo propped himself up on his arms, still
sitting on the cot and waiting for his vision to come back into focus. After
blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes everything turned from a big dark blur
into something much more beautiful.
Trinity.
Trinity stepped over to Neo, running her fingers through his hair then leaning
down to look in his eyes
"You okay?"
Neo didn't respond for a moment, he was still staring through Trinity like she
wasn't there. He shook his head and shuddered, then looked back up at Trinity,
having a sort of confused and bewildered look on his face.
"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost..."
"Something's happening..." Neo said quietly, his eyes searching Trinity's face
for her expression. Trinity paused for a moment, then sat down on the cot in
front of Neo. She folded one leg under herself and let the other leg hang off
the side of the bed. Trinity took one of Neo's hands and waited for him to keep
talking.
When he didn't, and all he did was look down at the palm that wasn't occupied by
Trinity, Trinity decided she had to encourage him.
"What's happening?"
Neo didn't look at trinity for a moment, then he glanced up, directly at her. He
responded bluntly,
"I don't know."
*~---~* *~---~* One week earlier *~---~* *~--~*
Fiona Nelson sat down in the chair in front of her computer. She pressed her
thumb firmly on the button on the monitor, and it flipped on. After a few
seconds, the black of the screen faded back into her desktop. The few icons were
scattered on top of the desktop background. The background was a symbol that
Fiona had found on the internet that meant 'Self'. She placed her well-worked
and dry palm of her left hand onto the mouse and scooted it over. She double
clicked on the icon titled 'internet connection'. Fiona typed in her password
then leaned back in her chair, waiting for it to connect.
There were no regular lights on in the room. There was only a string of all
green christmas lights that twisted around on the walls and up onto the ceiling.
The tiny green bulbs set off an eerie glow to the room that Fiona liked. The only
other light source in the room came from the computer monitor. A dull glow
radiated from the screen, lighting up Fiona's face.
Fiona's stark black raven hair with silver streaked grown-out bangs carresed the
sides of her baby-ish face. Her crystal eyes were two very noticeably different
shades. Her left was a startlingly deep blue with a dark green ring around the
outside of the iris, and the other eyes was dark brown with shards of green very
faintly showing. Fiona's thin eyebrows were set off by a shiny ring set at the
end of her right one. She wore no makeup, and she had no blemishes; which was
rare for a 16-year-old girl. Fiona was a rather thin girl, though she was deceptively
strong. Placed upon her upper half was a tight black tank top with the symbol for
radioactive in neon green coloring. -Very- baggy jeans set around her thin legs,
covering her combat boots underneath. Fi never wore any jewelry, for certain reasons...
After a few minutes of desperatley trying to connect to the internet, but not
meeting with success, Fiona eventually got her computer to work.
"Finally!" Fiona muttered, smacking the side of the computer with her palm.
She opened her normal chat program, to talk to her online friends...
Other Hackers.
It was almost 1 o'clock in the morning, and yet the band of 3 guy hackers (and
now one girl) chatted relentlessly into the night. During the day, Fiona was not
considered 'popular' at her high school but she wasn't thought of as a nerd. She
was just another girl, who always wore black.
Typo Imp: Boo.
Cookie: Yeah, that's what I was thinking--HEY! HI TYPO!
Amp: Hey you! Where the hell have you been?
Typo Imp: Busy. I don't live on the computer...unlike SOME people I know.
Hawk: I saw that.
Typo Imp: LoL Hawk, 'Oooooh nooooo! Not the suuuun!'
Hawk: Hey! okay, just because I'm paler than powdered sugar doesn't mean you
have the right to poke fun at my insecurities.
Cookie: LoL!
Hawk: Silence Cookie, I know where you live!
Amp: No shit, sherlock. He's your cousin.
Typo Imp: Dawn comes to marble head...
Hawk: *laughs* Typo, I'm gonna kick your ass!
Typo Imp: I'd like to see you try hun, I'd like to see you try! Plus, you kinda
live 2000 miles away from me, so unless you somehow find a way to get to me,
you're screwed.
Cookie: How'd you know where he lives?
Typo Imp: I'm a hacker, moron.....plus, he told me.
Hawk: hehehe...
Cookie: oh. well I feel stupid.
Amp: Happens a lot, doesn't it?
Cookie: ALRIGHT! SHUT UP!
Typo Imp: What were you guys talking about anyway?
Amp: Guess.
Typo Imp: We're never going to figure out what the matrix is, maybe we should
stop trying.
Amp: She's psychic, I tell you!
Hawk: Have you got amnesia, Typo!? You're the one who wanted for us to so
desperatley figure out what it was.
Typo Imp: Yeah, but...
Cookie: I still think it's just some high-budget marketing ploy for a new game
that'll be revealed sometime in the near future...
Amp: Did I say you were psychic, Cookie? No! I didn't!
Hawk: Way ta make someone feel good, Amp.
Amp: Was I talking to you?
Typo Imp: Male testosterone at work...ahhh, ain't it beautiful?
Hawk: C'mon Typo, we can't give up on the matrix now...we've come so far.
Amp: What ARE you talking about Hawk? WE haven't come far at all! I have no idea
what the matrix is!!
Cookie: Yeah! Jesus....are you two not telling me and Amp something?
Typo Imp: Never mind that, Amp, Cookie. Hawk, go to the private room with me, I
need to talk to you. See you other guys later. Santa is watching.
(Typo Imp has left room)
(Hawk has left room)
Fiona closed the window, then opened another one, having to type in a password
to enter it.
Typo Imp: Hawk?
Hawk: Yeah, I'm here. What is wrong with you, Fi? Have you totally lost it?
Typo Imp: Don't call me Fi.
Hawk: That IS your name, right?
Typo Imp: I know that...I prefer my alias better.
Hawk: I'm not stupid Typo, I know that you're just trying to change the subject.
Typo Imp: I know..
Hawk: We actually did it, Typo. We were only a few seconds away from finally
getting into that file when the computer crashed...what's stopping you from
trying again? Did something happen to you?
Typo Imp: Maybe we should tell Cookie and Amp that we tried...
Hawk: No! You know we can't trust my cousin, OR his best friend.
Typo Imp: They're getting suspicious though...they're not stupid
Hawk: Good god, Typo! Stop changing the subject! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?
Typo Imp: They know about us.
Hawk: Who does?
Typo Imp: The Agency. Yesterday...
Hawk: How the hell would they be able to find out? We covered our tracks! Typo
I'm here for you, I'm not going to dissapear. If something happened to you I
need to know about it.
Typo Imp: Why?
Hawk: 'Cause I wouldn't be able to think straight if I knew something were
happening to you...
Typo Imp: .......
Hawk: Just ignore what I said. Tell me about yesterday.
Typo Imp: A man came to the house while my dad was still at work.
Hawk: I thought that your dad ALWAYS locked all the doors and windows!
Typo Imp: Yeah, from the OUTside
Hawk: Tell me you're kidding....you dad actually LOCKS you IN the house?
Typo Imp: We're not talking about my dad, okay?! Anyway, about the guy that
came: He was dressed in a suit, and he had sunglasses and an earpeice...He put
his hand around my throat so hard I couldn't breathe...and said Stop your
foolishness, Miss Nelson. All your precious Mr. O'Brien will find of you if you
continue...is nothing. We will erase you. he dropped me, then turned and left,
slamming the door.
Hawk: How would he have known about me OR you? oh my god...don't tell me you
went back and finished the project without me...
Typo Imp: I did...I know it was stupid! I guess they must have traced it back to
my computer...I set a virus in their mainframe.
Hawk: God damnit Typo!! You know you can't cover your tracks unless you have the
program, and only I HAVE THE PROGRAM!!!
Typo Imp: I know...
Hawk: You should be grateful they didn't arrest you! Typo you have to be more
careful, they're probably monitoring you now. Either that or me....Typo?
Typo Imp: what?
Hawk: Did you....see it?
Typo Imp: The matrix?
Hawk: Did you?
Typo Imp: .....no.....
Hawk: But you got through to the file! Do you have any better idea now as to
what it could be?
Typo Imp: I think it's a program...
Hawk: For what?
Typo Imp: I don't know....
Fiona sighed, putting her elbow on the desk by the keyboard, and putting her
forehead in her hand. She was about to start talking to Cary O'Brien (Hawk)
again, but then she heard a voice from the floor below.
"GET DOWN HERE!"
Fiona immediatley turned off her computer, not even taking the time to say
goodbye to Cary. She leapt up from her chair so fast that it tumbled back onto
the carpet with a muffled bump. She tore out of her room, papers fluttering up
from her desk then settling down comfortably again once she had passed. Her
sneakers that found themselves on the carpet as she ran, had momentary contact
with it. Fiona's heart was beating in her throat and she ran her hand down the
broken banister, leaping over the last few steps of the carpeted stairs. Her
feet landed noiselessly on the bottom floor. She'd learned to master the art of
running silently because who knows what HE might do if she made too much noise.
Fiona stood where she was, her chest heaving, and keeping her face straight
forward. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her father in the kitchen,
rummaging loudly through the refrigerator. The tinkling of bottles and cans
would be a plain sound for a normal person, but those sounds sent chills down
Fiona's spine. She very slowly turned her head, and when her face was towards
her father, he immediately looked up at her.
His eyes, though sunken deep into his head, had an icy glare. It would remind
one of looking down into a lake and suddenly seeing the face of a dead human
just below the surface. He had that sort of affect on people. The terrible old
skin that held in the bony flesh of his cheeks was patchy and raw, as though
maggots had been eating through it his whole life. When his thin lips pulled
back into a smile, he exposed rows of perfectly and almost disgustingly white
teeth that hadn't a spot on them. Though this is something that would be
appreciated on a normal person, it was regarded as possibly the most frightening
aspect of the man's features. Simply because everything else looked like it had
been rolled in a pile of dog leavings and stuck together in random places. His
long spindly arms seemed to literally be nothing but bone, because you could see
the joint of his elbow and shoulder. How he was so incredibly strong though so
incredibly skinny was still a confusion to Fiona, and she knew she could never
underestimate what he might do next.
After giving her a look that plainly said 'Move, and die,' he stuck his head
back into the fridge. Fiona had her arms folded quietly behind her back, her
eyes glued to her father. She wondered what he could be searching so intently
for, all that was in the fridge was beer, and she knew that's what he was
looking for. She held in a smirk, reminding herself that this man's intelligence
quotient couldn't possibly be above 2, because it takes 3 to grunt. She looked at the front door at
her left, just now realizing that it was left wide open. This meant simply that
her father was only here for a short time to probably get some money then head
back out. His wallet was on the counter so he most likely thought he'd get some
beer on the way. Fiona's heart fluttered a little bit, thinking of the slim
prospect of maybe being able to run for it.
She slowly turned her face back around to the fridge, but her father was nowhere
in sight. Immediatley a small sweat broke out on her forehead. The feeling she
had was similar to the feeling you would have if you'd just found out there was
a serial killer hiding in your house. She took one small step forward, then
suddenly felt an iron grip on the back of her small neck. She gagged, knowing
better than to struggle. She felt the hand move slowly around her neck, twisting
her skin painfully, and not loosening it's grip at all. Within a few moments,
her father's nose was a millimeter away from hers, and his eyes peirced directly
into hers. She couldn't breath for two reasons. One, the thumb squeezing
relentlessly into her windpipe, and two, the terrible fear. She knew what was
coming.
His other hand found itself suddenly on Fiona's mouth, his thumb and forefinger
digging deeply into her cheeks. Fiona's eyes were emotionless. She knew he
wanted to see her fear, but it just wasn't there for him to feast on. This made
him even more angry, and he spoke to her, little flecks of white spit flinging
from his horrid-smelling mouth as he did
"I know you're afraid, kiddo."
Fiona couldn't respond because she knew if she spoke back she'd pay dearly for
it, and no breath could escape her lungs. Her forehead and cheeks (that were
still pinched tightly in her father's fingers) started turning scarlet, as the
lack of air was getting to her.
If the man staring deeply into her eyes had just called her "Fiona" she would
have been about 3 times less scared. The fact that he always called her kiddo
set her nerves on a roller coaster ride without the seatbelt.
Suddenly his lips curled back, flashing his stunning teeth. Fiona almost showed
her mind-numbing fear but she had learned so hard not to. That damn smile. On a
day when he didn't happen to be throttling her, and he smiled....even then she
would lose her breath and feel as though she would throw up the little lunch she
had had that day.
Her cheeks began to turn purple, and he could tell she was losing conciousness.
He suddenly tightened his grip so hard on her neck that if he held it, it would
have snapped her spine. But then he dropped her unconcious body into a pile on
the floor. He leaned over her and picked his three beer bottles up from off the
bottom stair where he had left them. Looking one last time down at her, decided
that he wasn't finished with her. He situated the three bottles inbetween the
fingers on his left hand, leaving his right hand free. Going back into the
kitchen and pulling open a drawer, the sound of silverware rattling quickly
echoed around the room. His long spider-like fingers found what they were
looking for, then her father went over to Fiona's body and kneeled down beside
it. He smiled a loving smile, and dragged the steak knife deeply across her
exposed cheek.
~*Three hours later*~
Fiona Nelson's eyes opened to slits. All she could see was red. She slowly sat
up, though in order to she had to move her hand out to the side to support he
upper body. As soon as she moved her hand, she bit her lip in pain as the tips
of three of her fingers sliced against something sharp. Her vision came into
focus a little more, and she looked down at the steak knife that had been
dropped near her hand. Her head was swimming, and there was a blood stain on the
carpet. She got to her feet, putting her uninjured hand on the banister of the
staircase behind her. She kept her hand on the wall and stumbled slowly to the
bathroom. She opened the door and flicked on the switch, trying to see into the
large mirror. She had to wait until her eyes adjusted to the light, then she saw
it. A large diagonal cut ran from just above the left corner of her mouth to the
outside edge of her eye. It had mostly stopped bleeding, and the dried blood was
crusted to her face. The cut hadn't been deep enough to do more than just leave
an ugly scar, but it was enough to cause her to feel woosy from blood loss.
She fumbled around the bathroom until she found a washcloth and something to
clean the wound on her cheek and fingers. There were bruises all around her
neck, but she ignored the pain because she'd gotten much worse treatment before.
She cleaned out the cut on her cheek, wincing at the pain, but no tears came to
her eyes. She never cried. The fact that she never did often stimulated the
father to hurt her even more because he wanted to see her writhe about in pain
and beg for mercy. But she never did.
Her heart was made of stone.