So here's chapter 2. Sorry it took so long. (bubblegumjapan3 - please don't strangle me and darquesse - don't sic your tiger on me. I tried to hurry, OK) I forgot to put a disclaimer on the last chapter so here you go: I do not own Skulduggery Pleasant (though I wish I did) Derek Landy owns Skulduggery Pleasant, I own the mistakes and God owns the glory. And if that looks familiar, you've obviously read something by Crismebella (so yeah, she owns the glory for the ingenuity of that sentense) Well I think that's it. Hope you like it.
Memories
Everyone gets nightmares .The horrors that come unbidden in the middle of the night. Thoughts that linger on the edges of consciousness in the waking hours, but come to life with startling clarity once the sun goes down. Memories of past lives, things we'd all rather forget. Things that you know on the edge of your subconscious, that climb into your minds as you slumber. A darkness that fills up the soul and numbs it with terror. Falling, trapped inside your own head in a reality that doesn't exist, nightmares can turn a strong man into a shivering wreck. People hate them, people fear them, but everyone gets nightmares. Everyone.
But China Sorrows wasn't everybody. She was China Sorrows. Always calm, always collected and composed. Nothing could ever faze her, and fear wasn't an emotion she should be accustomed to experiencing. For that matter, she was the type of person that wouldn't be used to experiencing emotions. Cold and remote, she was far above all normal human traits such as panic and alarm, and she was too superior by a long way to feel fear. The very idea of China being scared of anything or anyone was absurd. But these very emotions were what hit her each morning when she woke up, woke up from her nightmares.
Or rather, nightmare. The same nightmare, night after night for the last four hundred years. A nightmare that filled her with horror even just to recall it. A nightmare so awful that she dreaded going to sleep because of it. A nightmare that caused her every morning to wake up with tears coursing down her cheeks. A nightmare so terrible because it wasn't just a nightmare. It was a memory.
A memory from a time when war still waged over the world of magic. A time when you didn't know who was your friend and who was your enemy. No one knew who would be next to die, no one knew how long they had left on this earth. The sense of betrayal was everywhere. People changed sides, double crossers being double crossed, until it was impossible to know who to trust. Still, back then, loyalty to the cause still existed. She had been one of the few zealots on the side of Mevolent whose allegiance had never wavered. She would never have turned her back on them.
Being raised in a family of fanatics had never been your typical upbringing. From a young age, she had been taught the ancient myths and legends of the faceless ones. The dark gods that had once roamed the face of the earth, until they had been banished to a separate universe by the first sorcerers, the Ancients. China had been brought up to despise the ancients as evil heathens, as much as she'd been brought up to worship the Faceless Ones as the creators of life and the only thing worth looking up to in this world. Not that she had any problems with these beliefs. On the contrary, she became practically obsessive over the thought of having the Dark gods return. She scorned all other methods of thinking and derided all other philosophies. The Faceless Ones were her deities, and she would wait for their return with no end of devotion, until one day they returned to glory and victory over the entire world. And she longed for that day to come soon.
So when her brother had turned traitor, she had been aghast. Why would he make such a foolish decision? To turn his back on the ones he had sworn allegiance to meant certain death when they returned, as she knew they would before long. Together, they, along with many others could have lived, triumphant at the sides of the dark gods for all eternity. But now, he had doomed himself. Through her words, she derided him, laughed her fool of a brother who had rejected the path to glory. But truly, deep in her heart, she felt betrayed. Together, she and her Bliss, to call him by his taken name had grown up, together they had learnt the traditions and together they had began to worship the Faceless Ones. True they didn't have the average brother/sister relationship. She had tried to kill him at least three times during the course of their lives, and locked together in the same room, it would be hit and miss whether the both of them came out alive. Still, in her odd way, she felt a queer attachment towards him. When he turned his back on everything they had believed in and walked out of her life, she felt as though a tiny portion of her walked away with him. She even missed him, as much as sometimes she'd wished that he would just disappear. Well, at least, she missed trying to kill him anyway. They had stuck together throughout many years. But now he had left her. And it hurt.
But though the initial blow of his departure had stung, the hurt soon faded and she began to look at his choice with contempt. Here she was, fighting for her gods on the right side of the war; against all the traitors who would see the Faceless Ones kept away forever. But more importantly, she was fighting on the side that was going to win. She could feel it, as with every new battle, they gathered more strength and drew closer to victory. Soon they would rule triumphant over all humanity and then, they would return. The Faceless Ones would come back, to purge the world of all who were unworthy, there to reign forever in glory. And then, where would her brother be? China had smiled to herself as she thought about that. Then they would see who had made the better choice.
But soon, things started to go downhill. They had been on the verge of winning, their forces so powerful that they were very easily capable of taking over the many Sanctuaries around the world at a moment's notice. They were unstoppable - or so they thought. But that theory had unfortunately been incorrect - very unfortunately as far as they were concerned. No one knew how the cleavers had known the precise time and date of their surprise attack, or how the Irish Sanctuary knew exactly which symbols would cancel out the powers of the tattoo which was on all the members of the attack party's left forearm. But the fact remained that their "surprise" attack had been a complete fiasco thanks to the fact the Sanctuary knew every last detail. They had been defeated miserably, and no one knew how. Well, nearly no one.
China knew. Knew why they were losing all their battles, knew exactly how the Sanctuary was getting its information. Oh yes, she knew all right. And it made her blood boil and seethe every time she thought of it, because she knew exactly why they were losing, and she could do nothing to stop it.
Mr Bliss. China's contempt for her brother had now multiplied many times into an immense quantity of hatred. How could he? To abandon his beliefs in the midst of war was madness, but to turn traitor to all he had believed in was unforgivable. Day after day she cursed his name; night after night she lay awake, consumed to the very core with a loathing so deep it cut into her like a knife. He had betrayed her, betrayed the Faceless Ones, betrayed all the little trust she had ever put in him. And she hated him for it, hated him with every inch of her being until the hatred consumed her utterly.
But near all hatred, however strong, fades eventually. Though it battled with her mind and overwhelmed her completely for a while, time heals nearly all wounds and finally, China regained her senses, head ruling over heart. Oh, she still hated him, but in a more reserved manner. She was in control of her emotions instead of the other way round, which was the way she preferred it. Life went on. Mevolent's forces were regaining control again, their influence seeping through the magical communities as mist drifts through an empty city. Their power increased many times since their last defeat, everything was now in place. They were going to strike the sanctuary at its weakest point, then utterly crush it. They were ready.
China had everything she wanted, everything she had ever dreamed of soon to become a reality. But then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. In one night, one fatal night her life was turned upside down, in a whirlwind of horrifying emotions that she had never experienced before. One night. That was all it took to destroy it all for her. One night. And she could remember every second of it.
The way he looked when he saw his wife and child coming towards him, the moment he realised that they were doomed to die. The agony in his tortured face. The tormented sound of his scream. She watched as his life was destroyed before her eyes, his spirit extinguished like a candle flame. It was as if the light had gone off inside his soul, as with painful finality his head slumped forward as if in resignation of the fact that all was lost. But then his head snapped back up and what she saw there in his eyes made her tremble as she stood.
Rage. Rage so strong, so powerful it could crush a spirit into rubble. Rage as unfathomable as the ocean's murky depths, rage that boiled and seethed like an erupting volcano burning deep inside his eyes, as if it came from his very soul. And she was afraid.
Afraid of what would happen to her if he found out what she'd done, afraid for her life. She had heard what it was like to be caught in the path of his anger. And she had never seen him as angry as this before. So she ran. Ran away as fast as she could, never stopping, never looking back until, gasping with pain, both physically and mentally, she collapsed onto her bed in her flat.
Laying there, struggling for breath, her mind ran over everything that had happened over the last few hours. The tears began to freely course down her perfect cheeks as her brain finally began to register the vast extent of what she had done. She'd destroyed everything. He was dead and she had killed him.
She didn't hear until later the full extent of what happened that night. How watching the death of his wife and daughter had made him insane with wrath towards the monster that had done this. How, his thoughts distorted by the pain in his heart, he had caught up an ornamental dagger from over the door and attempted to kill him, destroy the demon who had lured him here to watch his pain and torture for his own sick enjoyment. He had never for a minute considered that it might be a trap. Caught up in the fury of his soul, he never realised what was happening to him until it was too late. The poison round the handle of the blade seeped straight through his skin to his heart, cutting off the flow of the magic immunity potion that coursed through his veins, and was the only thing preventing Nefarian Serpine from killing him there and then. It was a very thoroughly thought through trap. There was no way he could have guessed it even existed. And she had made it possible. The very thought sickened her right to the core, her body physically suffering under the weight of guilt, 'till she could no longer bear it.
She had said she could never turn her back on her gods, been repulsed by the very idea that she do what Mr Bliss had. But then, after they had torn her life apart, taken everything away from her, what choice did she have. Her loyalty, so never wavering before had evaporated, along with all her hope and love. She had used her gods to hold her up, her lifeboat in the sea when all around was sinking. But when you no longer have any fear of drowning, the lifeboat no longer seems important. She didn't care anymore, didn't care about anything .She had no feelings left to spare for them. Not knowing who she was anymore and tortured by the thought of what she had done, China Sorrows, the woman who never showed emotion, curled up into a ball and cried until she had no more tears left, until, wracked with guilt, she drifted into a vague form of sleep.
But rest she did not. China Sorrows would never sleep soundly again. That was the night the nightmares started.
And they never stopped. Every night, she tried desperately to put off going to bed, doing everything she could to avoid closing her eyes. Because she knew exactly what she would see the moment that she did so. His face. Tortured and in agony, it haunted her dreams, her every sleeping moment. Though she tried to block it from her mind, whilst she was unconscious in sleep, she had no control over her thoughts. They carried her to places she longed to leave behind, places that filled her with horror, but that she visited every night, because she had no choice.
Every morning, she awoke, with the screams of long ago still lingering on the edges of her thoughts. There were memories there, memories of that night, things she dreaded remembering. But not just dreaded. Feared. Some things are just too painful to think of, and this was one of them. Every thought, every image cut her soul like a knife. So she didn't remember. Deliberately, she shoved the thoughts to the back of her mind, and covered them up with more trivial matters. In fact, she did everything she could to block the memories from ever resurfacing. They had caused her so much pain, so much anguish. She didn't want them anymore! No, that wasn't it. It wasn't that she didn't want the memories. It was the emotions that she felt, that came with them. She had always avoided emotions after that night. Disciplined herself not to feel, not to become emotionally attached to anything. Emotions only caused trouble. They could be so strong, so overwhelming. They all came back to her, with such clarity when she remembered. Sorrow. Grief. And ... regret. So much regret.
She wished she had never gone there that night. Wished she had never got the strange request from Serpine. Wished, wished so badly that she could go back in time and undo everything she had done. But she couldn't. What had happened had happened. And she couldn't change that.
"Oh, damn it!" she groaned to herself one morning as she lay awake in bed, still recovering from her restless night. She sat up slowly, wincing slightly as a fresh onslaught of memories hit her. The same memories that cut her like this every morning. And they cut her deep. It was an almost physical pain, it hurt her so badly to remember. But she hadn't spent the last century perfecting her mask of stone for nothing. She slid into it, her face taking on the familiar impassive expression. It was a facade that she put on every day, the face that the outside world saw. No one knew the real China Sorrows. To them, she was a cold emotionless person. People loved her, yes. Everyone who met her couldn't help falling in love with her. But no one particularly liked her. She was mistrusted, disliked by many people. But she could live with that. It was safer that way.
Better to be disliked, better to live alone and friendless, than cause so much pain and loss again. People thought she didn't care. They never saw how much hurt it caused her when she saw the mistrust on their faces. Never knew how much she longed for them to stop hating her. But it was better that they felt like that. Better for her, and for them.
China's head jerked up suddenly, jolted out of her musings as she heard a sharp tap on the door. She glanced at the clock on the wall, confused. The hands showed that it was half past five. Who could be calling at this hour?
"Come in," she called, slipping out of bed and into a cream silk dressing gown that lay at the end of the bed. Quickly collecting her thoughts and smoothing over her irritated expression, she turned towards the door to find out what urgent matters required her attention now.
Her latest personal secretary stood there, hesitant in the doorway. "Miss Sorrows?" he called uncertainly. When she responded with a gracious smile, he relaxed slightly and managed to find his voice. "Miss Sorrows, there is a Mr Pleasant to see you. I'm sorry to disturb you this early, but he says it's urgent."
China Sorrows caught her breath with a sudden gasp. All the feelings, all the memories she had worked so hard to forget came flooding back to her in a split second. For a moment she was falling, trapped under the oppressive emotions that were crushing her, slowly beating down all her resistance. But she fought back, fought back with every ounce of self control she had. She had not resisted for all these years to lose everything for one moment of weakness. Gathering her composure, she turned to face her secretary who had been staring at her with a concerned expression.
"Tell Skulduggery I'll be there in a moment," she told him as she rose and walked across the room to her bathroom. Her heart had never felt so heavy. It weighed her down, as if a lump of lead had become embedded in her chest. Unseen to anyone, a single tear escaped her eye and slowly rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away with a quick flick of her fingers, then checked in the mirror to see if it was gone. It was. But though the tear had been erased, the complete and utter sadness in her eyes remained, just hidden, out of sight from the outside world. As it always would be.
Because China Sorrows was in love with Skulduggery Pleasant. And he could never know.