When I Wake, Will I Find You There?
By Scutter
scutter1200@hotmail.com
I have made up some characters.
Disclaimer: All original Sailor Moon characters belong to whatever
individuals/ companies own or made Sailor Moon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 2 - A Tortured Paradise
~~Mina~~
Wakefulness came slowly that morning. Usually, I would wake from my
dreams of home, and know at once I was back in my nightmare of a
life. The rank smell of the cell and the inevitable feel of a rat
snuffling round me often made me wretch. Then I would sit up and
wipe the remnants of tears from my eyes and numbly go back to the
continual dread of daylight.
But as I said, this morning I woke slowly. I sighed deeply as I
smelled the cool, fresh scent of the pillow beneath my head, and
luxuriated in the gentle caress of the sheets around me. It was only
as I tried to roll over that I felt a stiffness and mild pain in my
body, but this, also, came to my mind gradually. Still with my eyes
closed, I reached up to brush my hair out of my face, and it was
then that it struck me. My hand touched not an oily, matted mass,
but something soft.
My eyes shot open.
I don't recall if I screamed or not, but I may well have done.
It was light. That's what hit me first. My bed was covered in white
linen, and the curtains over the window let light in from the
morning sun, sending the room into a warm glow.
I don't think I moved for a good fifteen minutes, scared that this
dream would vanish if I were to reach out and touch it, and equally
scared that this was real, and I had no idea where I was, or why I
was there. My pounding heart finally slowed after a time, though my
fingers still clenched the sheets spasmodically.
I slowly took in every detail of the room with wide eyes. It was not
an elaborate room, yet I found it fascinating. Even common things
like the dresser and the small stool by the desk struck a chord of
wonder in me. I had thought I would never see these every day
objects again. The floor was carpeted, red and soft-looking, the
walls were painted white and the picture on the wall was surrounded
by a plain gold frame. All simple details that amazed me.
Finally, I looked down at myself - my arms and legs. My clothes had
apparently been removed, and I was dressed only in a light shirt.
Rolling the sleaves up, I saw that the cuts on my wrists had been
bandaged, and some sweet smelling oil had been rubbed onto my
bruises. A tight bandage was wrapped around my chest - I had
suspected that I had cracked a rib - and obviously that had been
taken care of. My whole body felt clean, and though stiff, the
burning pain was gone. I slipped out of bed, but my half-nakedness
made me instantly nervous. A thick robe hung on the back of the
door, however, and I quickly put it on, wincing slightly as my
bandaged feet touched the floor.
Still in a daze, I gingerly pulled the door open, somehow expecting
it to creak gently, which it did. The hallway was brightly lit, the
morning sun welcomed in by the numerous windows, and the same red
carpet stretched away to the staircase at the end. Still in bare
feet, I padded to the end of the hallway, and peered down the
stairs. The room below was deserted.
By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could smell a
strange scent, and it took me a moment to realise it was the smell
of food cooking. My mouth was watering instantly.
Following the scent, I passed two closed doors, then came upon a
third, seemingly the source of the smell. I gingerly pushed it
open . . .
And my world crashed.
There, sitting at a long wooden table, a half-eaten plate of food in
front of him, sat the man from yesterday, the cloaked figure on the
horse. His black hair fell roughly over his forehead, and it took me
a full ten seconds to realise that he was staring at me.
Tears rushed to my eyes, and my legs collapsed from under me. It
hadn't been a dream. I had not escaped. The man was here to hurt me,
of course. Why else would he be here? Freed from one prison, I had
stumbled into another. My sobs came incoherently as he rose from his
chair to kneel before me.
"No," I whispered in desperation. "Stay away. Please." But he did
not listen. Instead, he wrapped his strong arms around me, lifting
me ever so gently as I continued my pathetic protests, and placed me
gently on a padded chair beside the table.
My head fell against his shoulder as he gently held me, and I
mumbled nonsense while he rubbed my shoulders and whispered soothing
words to me. I tried to struggle against him but his strong arms
around me would not let me go, and my eyes closed in defeat. I was
trapped. But it was not until my eyes had closed that I realised
just how gently he was holding me. His chest was warm and firm under
my cheek, and he smelled of evergreen and spice. He felt so . . .
human. I had not felt the touch of another human in months, and
though a part of my brain tried to rebel against the idea, I found
myself pressing against him, the sensation was so pleasant, and my
sobs quickly ceased.
He held me for some time like this, waiting until I had relaxed a
little, then he sat me up straight, pulling away a little. "Are you
okay now?"
I nodded dumbly.
"Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?"
Again, I nodded, too shy to speak, but too hungry to refuse. A plate
was set before me, but to my surprise, it held only a piece of
toast, a few strips of bacon and a small amount of egg.
I looked up at the dark-haired man in dismay. I was hungry! I had
though I would get more food than this!
He smiled gently at me. "After being starved for a while, it's not
good for you to eat too much too quickly. It'll make you sick.
You'll be surprised how little you feel like eating anyway."
I shrank away from his gentle gaze, unwilling to argue, and scared
of what would happen if I did. Disregarding the knife and fork, I
picked up the toast with my fingers and began chewing the edge, the
warm butter melting through me like the richest honey. A glass of
juice was also set before me, and I drank it greedily. But the
strange man was still there, watching me, and I paused, regarding
him with nervous, suspicious eyes. Seeing my discomfort, he returned
to his own chair, finishing his breakfast while I picked over mine.
Though I dared not look at him, I imagined I could feel his gaze on
me, and that made me too nervous to eat, though my stomach cried out
for food.
Finally, though, he rose from the table, briefly addressing the
kitchen maid before leaving the room via the same door I had come
in. I breathed a sigh of relief, and returned to my meal, which, by
this time, was only luke warm. I was not about to complain, though,
and quickly wolfed down the last of it.
"Oh, I see you're getting your appetite back already, aren't you!"
My head snapped up in surprise. I had not heard the maid approaching,
and I stared at her as she set a mug of tea before me.
She chuckled. "Oh, don't worry about me, lass. I don't bite." She
pulled a stool up beside me. "Go on, drink up," she said, pointing
to the tea. "You'll feel better for't!"
I finally noticed the tea, and picked it up, offering the woman a
weak smile. The returned it with a wide grin. "Now, that's better,
lass. M'name's Betty, by the way. If you ever need anything, just
come ask me, I spend most of me time here in the kitchen, or in the
drawing room just through that door," she pointed. "Or you could ask
Samuel if you like," she continued, as I tried to keep up. It had
been months since I had had a conversation, and this woman spoke
extremely quickly. "Samuel's the groundskeeper. Well, really he's a
bit of everything. He does odd jobs, and helps keep the place
running. Wonderful man, Samuel is."
She finally stopped to take a breath, and I looked round to the door
the black-haired man had left by.
"Where did he go?" I asked quietly.
Betty looked at me in surprise. Then again, then wide grin split her
face. "You haven't quite caught up yet, have you lass. He'll be off
somewhere working himself to the bone. He buries himself away in a
room and stays there for days, working on one thing or another."
I nodded, then eyed the woman fearfully, before I asked my next
question. "What does he want with me?"
Betty shook her head. "I honestly don't know, lass. He keeps a lot
to himself, and I daren't ask him too many questions. He doesn't
like it, you know. Still, I'm sure he has his reasons, and that's
what matters."
I fell silent, my eyes wandering slowly over the wooden table top
while I thought about this. Confusion set in again - I still had no
idea where I was and even less idea why I was here - and I closed my
eyes to try and shut out the fear and agony that tried to rise
within me.
I heard a sigh from Betty "Well, look, I'll leave y'alone, okay?
Y'must be tired out." She rose from her stool and shuffled back
towards the kitchen. "If y'like, why don't you take a walk in the
gardens. It's real pretty out there this time of year. Maybe it'll
calm your thoughts a wee bit." I nodded without looking up, and
stayed where I was until I heard the door close quietly, and silence
descended on the room.
I spent most of that day in my room, hiding under my covers and
taking long showers, though I never felt quite as clean as I had
when I first woke that morning. I didn't see the man again all day,
even when I went down to dinner. When I asked Betty about it, she
said that he was working on something important, and couldn't be
disturbed. As I went up to bed that night, it occurred to me that I
didn't even know his name.
Strange. He seemed to remind me of someone. I just couldn't place
who.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Darien~~
At last I have a name to hate. The creature that keeps us here is
called Shendor. They do not speak to us much, but by eavesdropping
when I can, I have gathered little bits of information. There are
eleven of them altogether, with Shendor as their leader. They have
been watching us for years, waiting until they could strike against
us successfully. It seems they did their planning well. This is the
first time anyone has defeated us . . .
They have discovered how much Serena cares about me, and have begun
to take their revenge on me, as well as her, though I suspect it is
merely to make her suffer by seeing me hurt. I am almost grateful
for the pain, for it relieves some of my guilt . . .
I try to keep up the appearance of hope, to help Serena as much as
possible. She sees through me sometimes, sees the pain inside, but
strangely, it makes her smile. She says it proves to her that I
still care for her. My heart melted when she told me that, and it is
for that reason that I am in two minds over our captivity.
Everything logical says it is hopeless, that there is no way out,
but some seed within me refuses to believe that we are lost. If she
can still look at me with such brightness and love, then surely
there is a chance of our survival, and I will *not* give up!
I sigh. I'm just too stubborn, I suppose.
The chains around my wrists and ankles seem heavier every day. I
have tried everything to get them off, smashing them against the
walls, tearing at the locks, even to the point of almost dislocating
my own wrists.
I *know* this is not hopeless.
And yet the cold stone walls suffocate me, telling me that it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Mina~~
I was afraid to open my eyes when I awoke that second morning. Had
the day before merely been a dream, or had I actually been delivered
from my hell? Even before I opened my eyes, however, the warm scents
of the garden below my window had filled the room, and I teased
myself with the anticipation of seeing that bright glow of the sun
streaming over my bed. But when I opened my eyes, my heart still
skipped a beat at the joy of it. I dressed quickly, then crept
quietly down to the kitchen in bare feet.
A night of restful sleep had removed some of my fears from the
previous day, and with the morning light, I chose to accept this
apparent deliverance for what it was, and to stop second guessing
every kind gesture passed my way.
Though, I admit, I was still nervous about seeing the dark-haired
man again. I had been thinking about him all yesterday, and was
still completely mystified by who he was.
I cautiously pushed open the kitchen door, and again those icy blue
eyes made me freeze on the spot. He sat where he had been the day
before, an empty plate before him, the same gentle surprise on his
face. "Good morning." He gestured to a seat across the table.
"Please, sit down."
I stayed staring at him for a time, until I finally realised I had
to move, and, never taking my eyes from his, I tiptoed to the
opposite side of the table, perching on the very edge of my chair.
All my earlier boldness had fled, and I once again fell into nervous
thoughts of his intentions for me.
Betty immediately brought me a plate of food, more than I had been
given yesterday, and smiled as I began picking at it. Again, I felt
the man's gaze on me, but today, I couldn't help looking up at him.
He smiled at me gently, and I felt something within me give
slightly. I relaxed a little.
Taking a deep breath, I ventured, "Excuse me, um, Sir?"
The title seemed to amuse him, but he nodded. "What is it, Mina?"
I felt a cool thrill as he said my name - I had not heard it in so
long - and I managed a slight smile. "Uh, what . . . um, I was just
wondering . . . what's your name?"
He regarded me in silence for a moment. "Kaylin."
His tone of voice seemed suddenly cold, and I wondered if I had done
something wrong. I turned back to my meal. But the silence was
oppressive, and I felt the need to break it. He had seemed friendly
when I came in. Perhaps it had been my imagination that he snapped
at me. "Where were you yesterday?"
"I was working." He did not look at me. I waited for him to
continue, but he seemed to regard that as the end of the
conversation. I finished my meal in silence.
When Kaylin finally left the table, Betty again came and sat with
me, smiling warmly while I sipped my tea. I chewed my lip in silence
for a time, before I dared to say anything.
"Kaylin doesn't like me, does he," I muttered, staring at the floor.
But to my surprise, Betty laughed.
"Ah, child. He likes you better than he likes most people, believe
me. He just doesn't like to be questioned. He'll tell you everything
when he's ready to, and not a moment before." She sighed. "He's just
so damn stubborn," I heard her mutter under her breath. "Just like
his brother." I cringed. I hoped I would never have to meet his
brother.
The following days proceeded in much the same way. I was free to
wander the house and gardens, and I spent a great deal of time
outside. I found a quiet corner of the garden surrounded by small
trees of a bright green, and spent many hours sitting there. Samuel
and Betty were my main company, though I spent much of my time
alone. Samuel turned out to be a wiry man about 40 years old, and as
Betty said, he did a bit of everything, from mending the fence to
exercising the four horses that Kaylin kept in a long stable.
I saw Kaylin infrequently, and he often seemed very tired, though he
offered no explanation as to why.
I was well cared for, my wounds attended to daily, sometimes by
Betty, and other times, by Kaylin himself. He was incredibly gentle,
and I never felt much pain when he dressed my cuts, but he remained
aloof, his rough demeanour demanding my silence, and I felt a
growing resentment for him.
I did not even consider leaving, for I knew too well that I had no
where to go, and no idea where I was to begin with, and yet I felt a
growing need for some answers - Who was he? Why had he rescued me?
How had he known I was in need of rescue?
But my thoughts were not confined to myself and Kaylin. As time
passed, I began to wonder about my friends. Where were they? Were
they still suffering? Were they still alive?! And most importantly,
could I help them escape?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My thought were still a jumble of confusion later that evening. I
was sitting curled up on the couch, trying to read a book while my
mind refused to pay attention to it. Possibilities raced through my
mind, but I knew I couldn't do anything for my friends without
getting some answers from Kaylin first, and I knew *that* would not
be coming anytime soon. Not the least of my problems was that it
seemed impossible to pin him down for more than five minutes - I had
rarely seen him outside of breakfast times.
But to my surprise, Kaylin came into the living room that night. I
looked up from my book to stare at him while he stood by the open
fire, warming his hands with his back to me, still dressed in the
same black clothes he always wore.
He stood there for several minutes, seemingly oblivious to my
presence, until he finally turned to me. Those same crystal-blue
eyes trapped me in their gaze for a moment, until he spoke to me,
for the first time in two days.
"How are you this evening, Mina?"
Affronted, I dropped my book to the floor. "You mean you actually
care?"
His surprise was painfully clear, and I immediately regretted the
harsh words, but by then a burst of anger had risen within me, and I
was powerless to stop it. "You bring me here in the middle of the
night, you haven't told me where I am, or even why I'm here, you
disappear for days on end, you won't answer my questions and then
you pretend to care about me? That's not good enough! How dare you
lie to me like that! I hate you!!"
Somehow I had crossed the floor to where he stood, and now I shouted
into his face, while his initial surprise had faded to a stealthy
calm. But even as the accusations flew, it was as if someone else
was shouting them, while I hid inside myself and cringed with every
harsh word. I was in two minds about the whole thing. Though I
screamed at Kaylin, I knew it wasn't him I was angry with. He was
merely a scapegoat for all the bottled up emotions I had held since
my capture by the Reformation. And here, in his deep, unyielding
gaze, was my only source of release.
He stood quietly as I pounded his shoulders with my fists, my thin
arms having no effect on his hard muscle, watching me with gentle
eyes before he finally took hold of my flailing arms, holding me
still. I was powerless to fight against him, and as a wave of regret
went through me, my body went limp.
I never fell though, for he caught me as my knees collapsed, and
carried me to the couch, holding me against him while I cried a
flood of sobs that were a combination of fear and relief into his
shoulder.
I tried to apologise for my angry words as I cried, telling him I
had not meant them, and I had only said them because I was scared -
but he was not angry. He merely held me and stroked my back and
whispered "I know, Mina. It's all right. I understand."
And finally my breathing slowed, and I closed my eyes under the
gentle caress of his hands, his black shirt like satin against my
tear-stained cheek. I believe I fell asleep in his arms that night,
and he must have carried me up to my room, for I do not remember
ever having climbed the stairs. . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I awoke the next morning, and Kaylin was no where to be found. I
wondered about this all through breakfast, and into mid morning
before I dared ask Betty about it.
She looked at me in fear when I asked, and instantly busied herself
in the kitchen again. Then, just as suddenly, she stopped, took a
deep breath and turned to me. "Mina, dear." She paused. "Kaylin had
to go somewhere today. Don't bother asking where because I don't
know. He left early this morning, said he had somewhere important to
go."
Something in her voice made my stomach turn, and for some bizarre
reason, I found myself asking, "Is he going to come back?"
Betty would not look at me. "I hope so," she muttered to the wall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Narrator~~
In the darkness of a moonless night, a black figure ran swiftly and
silently through a barren camp. Passing by the entrance to a mine,
the figure paused, then vanished into the entrance when a patrol of
two guards strode past. Once their footsteps had faded, the figure
again emerged wraith-like from the shadows, slinking across the
rocky soil to a distant building.
Inside the dungeon complex, the guards dozed fitfully, guns dangling
from their relaxed hands while they snored. Without so much as a
murmur, a window high up in the wall slid open, and an ethereal
shadow slipped through the gap, dropping soundlessly to the floor.
It paused a moment, then began working its way along the row of
cells, searching for something, it seemed. Finally, it reached a door
about halfway along the row, and stopped. Drawing out a small pick
from the folds of its cloak, it released the lock with a muted
clink, and the door swung open. Moments later, the figure emerged
again from the cell, carrying a limp figure, about the size of a
girl. Reaching the window again, both shadow and girl vanished into
the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Mina~~
I could not sleep that night. I turned over and over in my bed,
wondering where Kaylin was, and if he would return. Why would he
just leave like that? Where did he have to go? Why wouldn't he have
told me before he went? And frighteningly, had I caused his
departure by my outburst the night before? If this was my fault . . .
My nightmarish thoughts were finally interrupted at around 1:00am.
Shouting reached my ears, and for a horrific moment, I thought I was
back in my dungeon. But as I sat up, I recognised Kaylin's voice,
calling for Betty, and for Samuel. A door slammed, followed by more
shouting, and I was on my feet by then, running down the corridor in
only my nightgown. I was halfway to the stairs when Kaylin appeared
at the top of them, a limp girl in his arms. Even in the dim light
it was obvious that she was bleeding, and I quickly followed his
instructions, rushing to open the door to another bedroom, then
grabbing a roll of gauze and a basin of warm water from the
bathroom. On my way back to the bedroom, I met Samuel, carrying a
medical kit, and we ran together down the hall. Betty had the lights
on by the time I returned, and I set the basin down on a stool,
cringing as I saw the blood on Kaylin's arms. I turned back to the
bed, to see if I could help him with the girl.
And my heart stopped. AMI!
I screamed once, short and sharp, then Samuel had me, literally
dragging me from the room as I clawed at him to get to my friend.
Betty shut the door behind us, and I collapsed onto the hallway
floor, screaming hysterically at Samuel to let me go. Despite my
weakened state, it cost him an effort to hold me there, and I
actually bit him to free myself. He did not relent, however.
He stubbornly shook his head through my tirade. "No, Mina, you must
calm down. You cannot help her by this madness!"
I swore at him, and aimed a kick at his groin. He was too quick
though, and had me pinned against the wall before I could do him any
further injury.
Again, I cursed my own weakness as he overpowered me, and I slid to
the floor breathing hard, trying to keep the sobs deep down in my
throat, not letting them escape. Fortunately, some shred of my mind
was still working rationally, and by sheer force of will I slowed my
breathing, and regained control over my shaking limbs. Without
looking up, I demanded to be let back into the room. Samuel took his
time in looking me over, while my mind screamed silently, then after
what seemed to be an age, he finally released me, and helped me to
my feet.
"All right. Go see her."
I opened the door and walked stiffly across the room. Gritting my
teeth, I looked up at my friend, unconscious on the bed. I had to
swallow several times to keep myself from vomiting. With quaking
hands, I pulled a stool up to the bed, on the opposite side to
Kaylin, and managed to sit down before my legs gave way.
I cannot describe the suffering I saw as I gazed at her. Blood
leaked from her legs, darkening the white sheets almost to black;
her face was covered in abrasions; one eye had a deep cut beneath
it; her arms were bruised, thick green and purple welts covering
them; her ribs showed plainly through her skin, which was a pale
yellow; the more I looked, the more I saw the endless pain she must
have endured.
Kaylin ignored me as I sat there, his face serious as he worked to
stop her bleeding.
"Kaylin?" I whispered.
"Hm?" he grunted.
"Is... is she... in pain?"
Kaylin shook his head. "I sedated her," he replied, pointing to a
used syringe beside him. Suddenly, he looked up at me. "Help me turn
her over onto her front," he ordered.
I leapt up eagerly, and carefully turned to limp girl, muttering
soothing words to her though I knew she couldn't hear me. Kaylin
immediately turned his attention to an open wound on her leg.
Probing the blackened skin with his fingers, he swore quietly.
"Samuel, get me a surgery pack."
I glanced furtively between the wound and his face. "What's wrong?"
Kaylin's lips were pressed into a tight line. "She has a bullet in
her leg," he muttered quietly. "Must have been there for weeks."
I gasped, but Kaylin remained calm, his face like a stone mask as he
began to open the wound, draining the infection and drawing the
bullet slowly out.
It must have been hours that we sat there. My eyes ached from lack of
sleep, but I was determined to stay with my friend as all costs.
Kaylin ignored me for the most part, but every now and then he would
glance up at me, his gaze lingering on my face before turning back to
his patient, his gentle hands resuming their careful task of
cleansing and treating her wounds. Finally, in the early hours of the
morning, he stopped, looking me over sharply, his keen eyes almost
fierce as he noted my exhaustion.
"Go to bed, Mina."
I looked back into his tired, bloodshot eyes, and shook my head. "I'd
rather stay here and help you." For reasons I didn't understand, this
seemed to please him. His eyes lost some of their fierceness, glowing
almost warmly behind his dark lashes, and he silently went back to
his work.
It was hours before he had finished treating all her wounds,
sometimes asking for my help; to hold her arm while he bandaged it,
or to prepare a gauze while he disinfected a wound.
But finally Ami slept undisturbed, though I couldn't say she was at
peace. It was a drug induced sleep, which, frankly, was all I felt
she was likely to get at this stage.
"Go to bed, Mina." It was the first time he had spoken in over an
hour, and I looked up at him blearily. He looked as tired as I felt,
but I shook my head. "I want to stay with her. . ."
"Mina. You can't do anything for her now. Get some sleep, and you can
see to her in the morning." I refrained from pointing out that it was
now 5:00 am and therefore already morning. Instead, I nodded,
shuffling off down the hall to my room, falling into a troubled sleep
even before my head had hit the pillow.
I woke several hours later - it was 9:27 by the clock beside my bed,
and I immediately got up and ran down the corridor to Ami's room. To
my surprise, the door was already open when I got there, and, curious,
I peered around the corner.
Kaylin was already at Ami's side, wiping her face with a damp cloth
while she mumbled in her sleep. Kaylin was whispering soothing words
to her, but she still moaned, her arms trembling by her sides. I was
instantly at her side, holding her hand. "Shh, Ami. I'm here. You're
safe now, my love." Miraculously, she seemed to quieten a little.
"You should have woken me," I told Kaylin, my voice barely over a
whisper.
Kaylin looked at me apologetically. "I looked in on you earlier, but
you were fast asleep. It seemed cruel to wake you."
I looked back at Ami. "Is she still sedated?"
Kaylin shook his head. "No, she's coming out of it. I'd like her to
wake up as soon as possible. I've asked Betty to bring up some
breakfast, so you can stay with her if you like."
I couldn't hide my surprise. I had been sure he was going to send me
away again. Kaylin, though, offered no explanation for his sudden
change of heart, and merely offered me a gentle smile. I smiled back.
It was a little over an hour later before I left the room again,
hurrying to dress before my friend awoke. I was on my way back to her
room when I heard a muffled scream, and I was at her door again in a
split second.
If I had thought a sedated Ami was a terrifying sight, it was worse
now that she was awake. She sat bolt upright in her bed, staring
about the room as if regarding Hell itself. Tears rose in her eyes,
and fear showed plainly as the salty liquid spilled forth. I stumbled
to her side, not even sure if she knew I was there.
"Ami?" I whispered. I reached out to gently stroke her shoulder, and
it took her a moment to respond. Slowly, she turned to face me, her
eyes wide and blank.
"Mina?" Her voice was distant, and it echoed hollowly across the
room.
"Yes, Ami. I'm here." I squeezed her hand gently, and she looked down
at it, her frightened gaze relaxing as reality filtered through her
mind. Then her blue eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, Mina," she croaked softly. "Mina, no." She shook her head
slowly, gazing at me with sorrowful eyes. "Oh, Mina. You are still so
beautiful." She reached up a shaking hand to run down my face, as if
making sure I was real. Then her hand fell limply to her side. "Oh,
but Mina, this is only a dream. This can only be a dream. I've
dreamed of seeing you so often. And seeing our friends. And I had so
often wished it was real. But it's not real, is it, Mina. This is
only a dream, and when I wake, I'll be alone again." The small girl
shuddered in my arms, and I reached down to cradle my friend's head
against my chest, rocking with her as she sobbed. Tears squeezed out
of my own eyes, as I lacked the words to tell her she was truly safe.
As I looked about the room, in this strange house I had been
delivered to, with its mysterious man who would not let me become his
friend, I honestly didn't know if this *was* safety, or if this was
merely some more bizarre version of hell.
Finally, Kaylin rose from his seat by the desk. Ami had neither
acknowledged nor cared that he was there, and he now walked quietly
to the door, giving us the privacy I so desired. But just as he was
leaving, I turned to him.
"Kaylin?"
The tall man turned in the doorway. "Yes?"
"Thank you." I whispered, as tears came once again to my eyes. "I
can't tell you how grateful I am to have Ami here." I held my friend
tighter, though the blue-haired girl did not respond.
Kaylin did not reply.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Darien~~
My heart aches as I watch her huddled figure in the darkness. My dear
Serena. How could I have failed you...
My eyes close and I am suddenly very tired. These chains weigh down
my spirit more than my body, and I find I want nothing more than to
die. Perhaps I *could* die...
But as I rest in that half way place between waking and sleep, a
figure appears before me. Cloaked in a black hood, I saw only his
eyes through the blackness. Eyes so blue it seemed that ice flowed in
them.
I stood completely still in that dreamland place, staring at those
eyes. As I watched, the figure knelt before me. "Endymion..."
My eyes snapped open, my breath coming in close gasps as my heart
pounded. What the...?
I calmed myself, then saw Serena lying on the filthy floor as she had
been since they brought her back this evening. Serena. . .
I lay down again, and once more seeking the oblivion of sleep, I
reached out to that cloaked figure again. I sent out a desperate
message to him. Help us!
By Scutter
scutter1200@hotmail.com
I have made up some characters.
Disclaimer: All original Sailor Moon characters belong to whatever
individuals/ companies own or made Sailor Moon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 2 - A Tortured Paradise
~~Mina~~
Wakefulness came slowly that morning. Usually, I would wake from my
dreams of home, and know at once I was back in my nightmare of a
life. The rank smell of the cell and the inevitable feel of a rat
snuffling round me often made me wretch. Then I would sit up and
wipe the remnants of tears from my eyes and numbly go back to the
continual dread of daylight.
But as I said, this morning I woke slowly. I sighed deeply as I
smelled the cool, fresh scent of the pillow beneath my head, and
luxuriated in the gentle caress of the sheets around me. It was only
as I tried to roll over that I felt a stiffness and mild pain in my
body, but this, also, came to my mind gradually. Still with my eyes
closed, I reached up to brush my hair out of my face, and it was
then that it struck me. My hand touched not an oily, matted mass,
but something soft.
My eyes shot open.
I don't recall if I screamed or not, but I may well have done.
It was light. That's what hit me first. My bed was covered in white
linen, and the curtains over the window let light in from the
morning sun, sending the room into a warm glow.
I don't think I moved for a good fifteen minutes, scared that this
dream would vanish if I were to reach out and touch it, and equally
scared that this was real, and I had no idea where I was, or why I
was there. My pounding heart finally slowed after a time, though my
fingers still clenched the sheets spasmodically.
I slowly took in every detail of the room with wide eyes. It was not
an elaborate room, yet I found it fascinating. Even common things
like the dresser and the small stool by the desk struck a chord of
wonder in me. I had thought I would never see these every day
objects again. The floor was carpeted, red and soft-looking, the
walls were painted white and the picture on the wall was surrounded
by a plain gold frame. All simple details that amazed me.
Finally, I looked down at myself - my arms and legs. My clothes had
apparently been removed, and I was dressed only in a light shirt.
Rolling the sleaves up, I saw that the cuts on my wrists had been
bandaged, and some sweet smelling oil had been rubbed onto my
bruises. A tight bandage was wrapped around my chest - I had
suspected that I had cracked a rib - and obviously that had been
taken care of. My whole body felt clean, and though stiff, the
burning pain was gone. I slipped out of bed, but my half-nakedness
made me instantly nervous. A thick robe hung on the back of the
door, however, and I quickly put it on, wincing slightly as my
bandaged feet touched the floor.
Still in a daze, I gingerly pulled the door open, somehow expecting
it to creak gently, which it did. The hallway was brightly lit, the
morning sun welcomed in by the numerous windows, and the same red
carpet stretched away to the staircase at the end. Still in bare
feet, I padded to the end of the hallway, and peered down the
stairs. The room below was deserted.
By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could smell a
strange scent, and it took me a moment to realise it was the smell
of food cooking. My mouth was watering instantly.
Following the scent, I passed two closed doors, then came upon a
third, seemingly the source of the smell. I gingerly pushed it
open . . .
And my world crashed.
There, sitting at a long wooden table, a half-eaten plate of food in
front of him, sat the man from yesterday, the cloaked figure on the
horse. His black hair fell roughly over his forehead, and it took me
a full ten seconds to realise that he was staring at me.
Tears rushed to my eyes, and my legs collapsed from under me. It
hadn't been a dream. I had not escaped. The man was here to hurt me,
of course. Why else would he be here? Freed from one prison, I had
stumbled into another. My sobs came incoherently as he rose from his
chair to kneel before me.
"No," I whispered in desperation. "Stay away. Please." But he did
not listen. Instead, he wrapped his strong arms around me, lifting
me ever so gently as I continued my pathetic protests, and placed me
gently on a padded chair beside the table.
My head fell against his shoulder as he gently held me, and I
mumbled nonsense while he rubbed my shoulders and whispered soothing
words to me. I tried to struggle against him but his strong arms
around me would not let me go, and my eyes closed in defeat. I was
trapped. But it was not until my eyes had closed that I realised
just how gently he was holding me. His chest was warm and firm under
my cheek, and he smelled of evergreen and spice. He felt so . . .
human. I had not felt the touch of another human in months, and
though a part of my brain tried to rebel against the idea, I found
myself pressing against him, the sensation was so pleasant, and my
sobs quickly ceased.
He held me for some time like this, waiting until I had relaxed a
little, then he sat me up straight, pulling away a little. "Are you
okay now?"
I nodded dumbly.
"Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?"
Again, I nodded, too shy to speak, but too hungry to refuse. A plate
was set before me, but to my surprise, it held only a piece of
toast, a few strips of bacon and a small amount of egg.
I looked up at the dark-haired man in dismay. I was hungry! I had
though I would get more food than this!
He smiled gently at me. "After being starved for a while, it's not
good for you to eat too much too quickly. It'll make you sick.
You'll be surprised how little you feel like eating anyway."
I shrank away from his gentle gaze, unwilling to argue, and scared
of what would happen if I did. Disregarding the knife and fork, I
picked up the toast with my fingers and began chewing the edge, the
warm butter melting through me like the richest honey. A glass of
juice was also set before me, and I drank it greedily. But the
strange man was still there, watching me, and I paused, regarding
him with nervous, suspicious eyes. Seeing my discomfort, he returned
to his own chair, finishing his breakfast while I picked over mine.
Though I dared not look at him, I imagined I could feel his gaze on
me, and that made me too nervous to eat, though my stomach cried out
for food.
Finally, though, he rose from the table, briefly addressing the
kitchen maid before leaving the room via the same door I had come
in. I breathed a sigh of relief, and returned to my meal, which, by
this time, was only luke warm. I was not about to complain, though,
and quickly wolfed down the last of it.
"Oh, I see you're getting your appetite back already, aren't you!"
My head snapped up in surprise. I had not heard the maid approaching,
and I stared at her as she set a mug of tea before me.
She chuckled. "Oh, don't worry about me, lass. I don't bite." She
pulled a stool up beside me. "Go on, drink up," she said, pointing
to the tea. "You'll feel better for't!"
I finally noticed the tea, and picked it up, offering the woman a
weak smile. The returned it with a wide grin. "Now, that's better,
lass. M'name's Betty, by the way. If you ever need anything, just
come ask me, I spend most of me time here in the kitchen, or in the
drawing room just through that door," she pointed. "Or you could ask
Samuel if you like," she continued, as I tried to keep up. It had
been months since I had had a conversation, and this woman spoke
extremely quickly. "Samuel's the groundskeeper. Well, really he's a
bit of everything. He does odd jobs, and helps keep the place
running. Wonderful man, Samuel is."
She finally stopped to take a breath, and I looked round to the door
the black-haired man had left by.
"Where did he go?" I asked quietly.
Betty looked at me in surprise. Then again, then wide grin split her
face. "You haven't quite caught up yet, have you lass. He'll be off
somewhere working himself to the bone. He buries himself away in a
room and stays there for days, working on one thing or another."
I nodded, then eyed the woman fearfully, before I asked my next
question. "What does he want with me?"
Betty shook her head. "I honestly don't know, lass. He keeps a lot
to himself, and I daren't ask him too many questions. He doesn't
like it, you know. Still, I'm sure he has his reasons, and that's
what matters."
I fell silent, my eyes wandering slowly over the wooden table top
while I thought about this. Confusion set in again - I still had no
idea where I was and even less idea why I was here - and I closed my
eyes to try and shut out the fear and agony that tried to rise
within me.
I heard a sigh from Betty "Well, look, I'll leave y'alone, okay?
Y'must be tired out." She rose from her stool and shuffled back
towards the kitchen. "If y'like, why don't you take a walk in the
gardens. It's real pretty out there this time of year. Maybe it'll
calm your thoughts a wee bit." I nodded without looking up, and
stayed where I was until I heard the door close quietly, and silence
descended on the room.
I spent most of that day in my room, hiding under my covers and
taking long showers, though I never felt quite as clean as I had
when I first woke that morning. I didn't see the man again all day,
even when I went down to dinner. When I asked Betty about it, she
said that he was working on something important, and couldn't be
disturbed. As I went up to bed that night, it occurred to me that I
didn't even know his name.
Strange. He seemed to remind me of someone. I just couldn't place
who.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Darien~~
At last I have a name to hate. The creature that keeps us here is
called Shendor. They do not speak to us much, but by eavesdropping
when I can, I have gathered little bits of information. There are
eleven of them altogether, with Shendor as their leader. They have
been watching us for years, waiting until they could strike against
us successfully. It seems they did their planning well. This is the
first time anyone has defeated us . . .
They have discovered how much Serena cares about me, and have begun
to take their revenge on me, as well as her, though I suspect it is
merely to make her suffer by seeing me hurt. I am almost grateful
for the pain, for it relieves some of my guilt . . .
I try to keep up the appearance of hope, to help Serena as much as
possible. She sees through me sometimes, sees the pain inside, but
strangely, it makes her smile. She says it proves to her that I
still care for her. My heart melted when she told me that, and it is
for that reason that I am in two minds over our captivity.
Everything logical says it is hopeless, that there is no way out,
but some seed within me refuses to believe that we are lost. If she
can still look at me with such brightness and love, then surely
there is a chance of our survival, and I will *not* give up!
I sigh. I'm just too stubborn, I suppose.
The chains around my wrists and ankles seem heavier every day. I
have tried everything to get them off, smashing them against the
walls, tearing at the locks, even to the point of almost dislocating
my own wrists.
I *know* this is not hopeless.
And yet the cold stone walls suffocate me, telling me that it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Mina~~
I was afraid to open my eyes when I awoke that second morning. Had
the day before merely been a dream, or had I actually been delivered
from my hell? Even before I opened my eyes, however, the warm scents
of the garden below my window had filled the room, and I teased
myself with the anticipation of seeing that bright glow of the sun
streaming over my bed. But when I opened my eyes, my heart still
skipped a beat at the joy of it. I dressed quickly, then crept
quietly down to the kitchen in bare feet.
A night of restful sleep had removed some of my fears from the
previous day, and with the morning light, I chose to accept this
apparent deliverance for what it was, and to stop second guessing
every kind gesture passed my way.
Though, I admit, I was still nervous about seeing the dark-haired
man again. I had been thinking about him all yesterday, and was
still completely mystified by who he was.
I cautiously pushed open the kitchen door, and again those icy blue
eyes made me freeze on the spot. He sat where he had been the day
before, an empty plate before him, the same gentle surprise on his
face. "Good morning." He gestured to a seat across the table.
"Please, sit down."
I stayed staring at him for a time, until I finally realised I had
to move, and, never taking my eyes from his, I tiptoed to the
opposite side of the table, perching on the very edge of my chair.
All my earlier boldness had fled, and I once again fell into nervous
thoughts of his intentions for me.
Betty immediately brought me a plate of food, more than I had been
given yesterday, and smiled as I began picking at it. Again, I felt
the man's gaze on me, but today, I couldn't help looking up at him.
He smiled at me gently, and I felt something within me give
slightly. I relaxed a little.
Taking a deep breath, I ventured, "Excuse me, um, Sir?"
The title seemed to amuse him, but he nodded. "What is it, Mina?"
I felt a cool thrill as he said my name - I had not heard it in so
long - and I managed a slight smile. "Uh, what . . . um, I was just
wondering . . . what's your name?"
He regarded me in silence for a moment. "Kaylin."
His tone of voice seemed suddenly cold, and I wondered if I had done
something wrong. I turned back to my meal. But the silence was
oppressive, and I felt the need to break it. He had seemed friendly
when I came in. Perhaps it had been my imagination that he snapped
at me. "Where were you yesterday?"
"I was working." He did not look at me. I waited for him to
continue, but he seemed to regard that as the end of the
conversation. I finished my meal in silence.
When Kaylin finally left the table, Betty again came and sat with
me, smiling warmly while I sipped my tea. I chewed my lip in silence
for a time, before I dared to say anything.
"Kaylin doesn't like me, does he," I muttered, staring at the floor.
But to my surprise, Betty laughed.
"Ah, child. He likes you better than he likes most people, believe
me. He just doesn't like to be questioned. He'll tell you everything
when he's ready to, and not a moment before." She sighed. "He's just
so damn stubborn," I heard her mutter under her breath. "Just like
his brother." I cringed. I hoped I would never have to meet his
brother.
The following days proceeded in much the same way. I was free to
wander the house and gardens, and I spent a great deal of time
outside. I found a quiet corner of the garden surrounded by small
trees of a bright green, and spent many hours sitting there. Samuel
and Betty were my main company, though I spent much of my time
alone. Samuel turned out to be a wiry man about 40 years old, and as
Betty said, he did a bit of everything, from mending the fence to
exercising the four horses that Kaylin kept in a long stable.
I saw Kaylin infrequently, and he often seemed very tired, though he
offered no explanation as to why.
I was well cared for, my wounds attended to daily, sometimes by
Betty, and other times, by Kaylin himself. He was incredibly gentle,
and I never felt much pain when he dressed my cuts, but he remained
aloof, his rough demeanour demanding my silence, and I felt a
growing resentment for him.
I did not even consider leaving, for I knew too well that I had no
where to go, and no idea where I was to begin with, and yet I felt a
growing need for some answers - Who was he? Why had he rescued me?
How had he known I was in need of rescue?
But my thoughts were not confined to myself and Kaylin. As time
passed, I began to wonder about my friends. Where were they? Were
they still suffering? Were they still alive?! And most importantly,
could I help them escape?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My thought were still a jumble of confusion later that evening. I
was sitting curled up on the couch, trying to read a book while my
mind refused to pay attention to it. Possibilities raced through my
mind, but I knew I couldn't do anything for my friends without
getting some answers from Kaylin first, and I knew *that* would not
be coming anytime soon. Not the least of my problems was that it
seemed impossible to pin him down for more than five minutes - I had
rarely seen him outside of breakfast times.
But to my surprise, Kaylin came into the living room that night. I
looked up from my book to stare at him while he stood by the open
fire, warming his hands with his back to me, still dressed in the
same black clothes he always wore.
He stood there for several minutes, seemingly oblivious to my
presence, until he finally turned to me. Those same crystal-blue
eyes trapped me in their gaze for a moment, until he spoke to me,
for the first time in two days.
"How are you this evening, Mina?"
Affronted, I dropped my book to the floor. "You mean you actually
care?"
His surprise was painfully clear, and I immediately regretted the
harsh words, but by then a burst of anger had risen within me, and I
was powerless to stop it. "You bring me here in the middle of the
night, you haven't told me where I am, or even why I'm here, you
disappear for days on end, you won't answer my questions and then
you pretend to care about me? That's not good enough! How dare you
lie to me like that! I hate you!!"
Somehow I had crossed the floor to where he stood, and now I shouted
into his face, while his initial surprise had faded to a stealthy
calm. But even as the accusations flew, it was as if someone else
was shouting them, while I hid inside myself and cringed with every
harsh word. I was in two minds about the whole thing. Though I
screamed at Kaylin, I knew it wasn't him I was angry with. He was
merely a scapegoat for all the bottled up emotions I had held since
my capture by the Reformation. And here, in his deep, unyielding
gaze, was my only source of release.
He stood quietly as I pounded his shoulders with my fists, my thin
arms having no effect on his hard muscle, watching me with gentle
eyes before he finally took hold of my flailing arms, holding me
still. I was powerless to fight against him, and as a wave of regret
went through me, my body went limp.
I never fell though, for he caught me as my knees collapsed, and
carried me to the couch, holding me against him while I cried a
flood of sobs that were a combination of fear and relief into his
shoulder.
I tried to apologise for my angry words as I cried, telling him I
had not meant them, and I had only said them because I was scared -
but he was not angry. He merely held me and stroked my back and
whispered "I know, Mina. It's all right. I understand."
And finally my breathing slowed, and I closed my eyes under the
gentle caress of his hands, his black shirt like satin against my
tear-stained cheek. I believe I fell asleep in his arms that night,
and he must have carried me up to my room, for I do not remember
ever having climbed the stairs. . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I awoke the next morning, and Kaylin was no where to be found. I
wondered about this all through breakfast, and into mid morning
before I dared ask Betty about it.
She looked at me in fear when I asked, and instantly busied herself
in the kitchen again. Then, just as suddenly, she stopped, took a
deep breath and turned to me. "Mina, dear." She paused. "Kaylin had
to go somewhere today. Don't bother asking where because I don't
know. He left early this morning, said he had somewhere important to
go."
Something in her voice made my stomach turn, and for some bizarre
reason, I found myself asking, "Is he going to come back?"
Betty would not look at me. "I hope so," she muttered to the wall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Narrator~~
In the darkness of a moonless night, a black figure ran swiftly and
silently through a barren camp. Passing by the entrance to a mine,
the figure paused, then vanished into the entrance when a patrol of
two guards strode past. Once their footsteps had faded, the figure
again emerged wraith-like from the shadows, slinking across the
rocky soil to a distant building.
Inside the dungeon complex, the guards dozed fitfully, guns dangling
from their relaxed hands while they snored. Without so much as a
murmur, a window high up in the wall slid open, and an ethereal
shadow slipped through the gap, dropping soundlessly to the floor.
It paused a moment, then began working its way along the row of
cells, searching for something, it seemed. Finally, it reached a door
about halfway along the row, and stopped. Drawing out a small pick
from the folds of its cloak, it released the lock with a muted
clink, and the door swung open. Moments later, the figure emerged
again from the cell, carrying a limp figure, about the size of a
girl. Reaching the window again, both shadow and girl vanished into
the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Mina~~
I could not sleep that night. I turned over and over in my bed,
wondering where Kaylin was, and if he would return. Why would he
just leave like that? Where did he have to go? Why wouldn't he have
told me before he went? And frighteningly, had I caused his
departure by my outburst the night before? If this was my fault . . .
My nightmarish thoughts were finally interrupted at around 1:00am.
Shouting reached my ears, and for a horrific moment, I thought I was
back in my dungeon. But as I sat up, I recognised Kaylin's voice,
calling for Betty, and for Samuel. A door slammed, followed by more
shouting, and I was on my feet by then, running down the corridor in
only my nightgown. I was halfway to the stairs when Kaylin appeared
at the top of them, a limp girl in his arms. Even in the dim light
it was obvious that she was bleeding, and I quickly followed his
instructions, rushing to open the door to another bedroom, then
grabbing a roll of gauze and a basin of warm water from the
bathroom. On my way back to the bedroom, I met Samuel, carrying a
medical kit, and we ran together down the hall. Betty had the lights
on by the time I returned, and I set the basin down on a stool,
cringing as I saw the blood on Kaylin's arms. I turned back to the
bed, to see if I could help him with the girl.
And my heart stopped. AMI!
I screamed once, short and sharp, then Samuel had me, literally
dragging me from the room as I clawed at him to get to my friend.
Betty shut the door behind us, and I collapsed onto the hallway
floor, screaming hysterically at Samuel to let me go. Despite my
weakened state, it cost him an effort to hold me there, and I
actually bit him to free myself. He did not relent, however.
He stubbornly shook his head through my tirade. "No, Mina, you must
calm down. You cannot help her by this madness!"
I swore at him, and aimed a kick at his groin. He was too quick
though, and had me pinned against the wall before I could do him any
further injury.
Again, I cursed my own weakness as he overpowered me, and I slid to
the floor breathing hard, trying to keep the sobs deep down in my
throat, not letting them escape. Fortunately, some shred of my mind
was still working rationally, and by sheer force of will I slowed my
breathing, and regained control over my shaking limbs. Without
looking up, I demanded to be let back into the room. Samuel took his
time in looking me over, while my mind screamed silently, then after
what seemed to be an age, he finally released me, and helped me to
my feet.
"All right. Go see her."
I opened the door and walked stiffly across the room. Gritting my
teeth, I looked up at my friend, unconscious on the bed. I had to
swallow several times to keep myself from vomiting. With quaking
hands, I pulled a stool up to the bed, on the opposite side to
Kaylin, and managed to sit down before my legs gave way.
I cannot describe the suffering I saw as I gazed at her. Blood
leaked from her legs, darkening the white sheets almost to black;
her face was covered in abrasions; one eye had a deep cut beneath
it; her arms were bruised, thick green and purple welts covering
them; her ribs showed plainly through her skin, which was a pale
yellow; the more I looked, the more I saw the endless pain she must
have endured.
Kaylin ignored me as I sat there, his face serious as he worked to
stop her bleeding.
"Kaylin?" I whispered.
"Hm?" he grunted.
"Is... is she... in pain?"
Kaylin shook his head. "I sedated her," he replied, pointing to a
used syringe beside him. Suddenly, he looked up at me. "Help me turn
her over onto her front," he ordered.
I leapt up eagerly, and carefully turned to limp girl, muttering
soothing words to her though I knew she couldn't hear me. Kaylin
immediately turned his attention to an open wound on her leg.
Probing the blackened skin with his fingers, he swore quietly.
"Samuel, get me a surgery pack."
I glanced furtively between the wound and his face. "What's wrong?"
Kaylin's lips were pressed into a tight line. "She has a bullet in
her leg," he muttered quietly. "Must have been there for weeks."
I gasped, but Kaylin remained calm, his face like a stone mask as he
began to open the wound, draining the infection and drawing the
bullet slowly out.
It must have been hours that we sat there. My eyes ached from lack of
sleep, but I was determined to stay with my friend as all costs.
Kaylin ignored me for the most part, but every now and then he would
glance up at me, his gaze lingering on my face before turning back to
his patient, his gentle hands resuming their careful task of
cleansing and treating her wounds. Finally, in the early hours of the
morning, he stopped, looking me over sharply, his keen eyes almost
fierce as he noted my exhaustion.
"Go to bed, Mina."
I looked back into his tired, bloodshot eyes, and shook my head. "I'd
rather stay here and help you." For reasons I didn't understand, this
seemed to please him. His eyes lost some of their fierceness, glowing
almost warmly behind his dark lashes, and he silently went back to
his work.
It was hours before he had finished treating all her wounds,
sometimes asking for my help; to hold her arm while he bandaged it,
or to prepare a gauze while he disinfected a wound.
But finally Ami slept undisturbed, though I couldn't say she was at
peace. It was a drug induced sleep, which, frankly, was all I felt
she was likely to get at this stage.
"Go to bed, Mina." It was the first time he had spoken in over an
hour, and I looked up at him blearily. He looked as tired as I felt,
but I shook my head. "I want to stay with her. . ."
"Mina. You can't do anything for her now. Get some sleep, and you can
see to her in the morning." I refrained from pointing out that it was
now 5:00 am and therefore already morning. Instead, I nodded,
shuffling off down the hall to my room, falling into a troubled sleep
even before my head had hit the pillow.
I woke several hours later - it was 9:27 by the clock beside my bed,
and I immediately got up and ran down the corridor to Ami's room. To
my surprise, the door was already open when I got there, and, curious,
I peered around the corner.
Kaylin was already at Ami's side, wiping her face with a damp cloth
while she mumbled in her sleep. Kaylin was whispering soothing words
to her, but she still moaned, her arms trembling by her sides. I was
instantly at her side, holding her hand. "Shh, Ami. I'm here. You're
safe now, my love." Miraculously, she seemed to quieten a little.
"You should have woken me," I told Kaylin, my voice barely over a
whisper.
Kaylin looked at me apologetically. "I looked in on you earlier, but
you were fast asleep. It seemed cruel to wake you."
I looked back at Ami. "Is she still sedated?"
Kaylin shook his head. "No, she's coming out of it. I'd like her to
wake up as soon as possible. I've asked Betty to bring up some
breakfast, so you can stay with her if you like."
I couldn't hide my surprise. I had been sure he was going to send me
away again. Kaylin, though, offered no explanation for his sudden
change of heart, and merely offered me a gentle smile. I smiled back.
It was a little over an hour later before I left the room again,
hurrying to dress before my friend awoke. I was on my way back to her
room when I heard a muffled scream, and I was at her door again in a
split second.
If I had thought a sedated Ami was a terrifying sight, it was worse
now that she was awake. She sat bolt upright in her bed, staring
about the room as if regarding Hell itself. Tears rose in her eyes,
and fear showed plainly as the salty liquid spilled forth. I stumbled
to her side, not even sure if she knew I was there.
"Ami?" I whispered. I reached out to gently stroke her shoulder, and
it took her a moment to respond. Slowly, she turned to face me, her
eyes wide and blank.
"Mina?" Her voice was distant, and it echoed hollowly across the
room.
"Yes, Ami. I'm here." I squeezed her hand gently, and she looked down
at it, her frightened gaze relaxing as reality filtered through her
mind. Then her blue eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, Mina," she croaked softly. "Mina, no." She shook her head
slowly, gazing at me with sorrowful eyes. "Oh, Mina. You are still so
beautiful." She reached up a shaking hand to run down my face, as if
making sure I was real. Then her hand fell limply to her side. "Oh,
but Mina, this is only a dream. This can only be a dream. I've
dreamed of seeing you so often. And seeing our friends. And I had so
often wished it was real. But it's not real, is it, Mina. This is
only a dream, and when I wake, I'll be alone again." The small girl
shuddered in my arms, and I reached down to cradle my friend's head
against my chest, rocking with her as she sobbed. Tears squeezed out
of my own eyes, as I lacked the words to tell her she was truly safe.
As I looked about the room, in this strange house I had been
delivered to, with its mysterious man who would not let me become his
friend, I honestly didn't know if this *was* safety, or if this was
merely some more bizarre version of hell.
Finally, Kaylin rose from his seat by the desk. Ami had neither
acknowledged nor cared that he was there, and he now walked quietly
to the door, giving us the privacy I so desired. But just as he was
leaving, I turned to him.
"Kaylin?"
The tall man turned in the doorway. "Yes?"
"Thank you." I whispered, as tears came once again to my eyes. "I
can't tell you how grateful I am to have Ami here." I held my friend
tighter, though the blue-haired girl did not respond.
Kaylin did not reply.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Darien~~
My heart aches as I watch her huddled figure in the darkness. My dear
Serena. How could I have failed you...
My eyes close and I am suddenly very tired. These chains weigh down
my spirit more than my body, and I find I want nothing more than to
die. Perhaps I *could* die...
But as I rest in that half way place between waking and sleep, a
figure appears before me. Cloaked in a black hood, I saw only his
eyes through the blackness. Eyes so blue it seemed that ice flowed in
them.
I stood completely still in that dreamland place, staring at those
eyes. As I watched, the figure knelt before me. "Endymion..."
My eyes snapped open, my breath coming in close gasps as my heart
pounded. What the...?
I calmed myself, then saw Serena lying on the filthy floor as she had
been since they brought her back this evening. Serena. . .
I lay down again, and once more seeking the oblivion of sleep, I
reached out to that cloaked figure again. I sent out a desperate
message to him. Help us!