A Little Piece of Heaven
Chapter 29: Almost Laughed Herself to Tears
I pace the narrow strip of hall ignoring the tingle of a growing itch in my back. I run a hand through my hair and continue to drag as I begin to remove my gloves. I am tired; very much so. Fatigue sets in driving parts of my body to protest against me, but I move on. I am back early tonight. I sigh trying to thumb through my thoughts. But, I also feel too tired in my mind. I set a hand to the wall and gaze into the dark.
It's an odd feeling that even now I have not grown used to. I mean to say, that it is still a foreign concept that when I return, there is someone here waiting for me. I seem to come as a relief. When have I ever made someone feel safe?
I squint as I stride through my bedroom door. The fine feminine silhouette I am used to seeing is absent from under the depths of my bed. This is out of the ordinary. In the beginning I thought nothing of it, and went in search of my woman. If not lying asleep in my bed, then surely she must be in the library?
No.
Then where?
Suspicion trickles through my veins and I instinctively go where my feet take me. With the living areas far behind, I wind through the darkness hissing at the stray heartless who block my way.
The abandoned, far off office should be as I left it, but it is not. I glare at the slightly opened panel in the wall and confirm what I knew somehow, was inevitable.
"You have quite the habit for being nosey." His voice is split between an unnatural calm, and an irate edge.
"Are you just now noticing?" She sniffs eyeing him from between her hands and the hair flipped over her hanging head. Her behind is propped against the railing in the bitterly cold room. She slouches with a crooked bent in her knees.
"I thought I told you not to—"
"Can you explain this to me?" She cuts him off pointing to the eerie bright screen stationed behind her.
"Explain what?"
"Don't what me. This Ansem. What is this?" She continues to hold herself in her hands. Her nostrils flare, and her face screws into a hurtful frown like she's biting back an angry sob.
"An experiment file," he puts it simply.
"What experiment?" she says it through her teeth staring at him in disbelief. He searches her face. There is a long silence and all they do is glare at one another.
"Is that what I am?" She stands to her feet her hair swaying with her head. "Have I just been one of your throw-away test subjects?"
"Yes, you were," Ansem sighs messaging his finger tips over his closed eyes. "Were," He repeats crossing his arms and rubbing his chin.
"All this time I was thinking it was me. That all of this shit was just me. You tampered with my heart," she clutches her chest. He can hear her voice cracking.
"I did, but understand. When Maleficent handed over your life I was already planning to take it. Yet, everything seemed to have taken an alternate root. I wasn't expecting 'us' to happen in the beginning just as much as you hadn't," he takes a cautious step towards her, while she takes one back.
"But you knew, and you didn't tell me. You let me hurt, and suffer, and want so bad that it burned through the darkness you put in my heart," she bites her lip hard. Moisture wells at the edges of her eyes.
"I did," his face stays expressionless.
"I'm just your sweet play thing for your own satisfaction. Aren't I? You lie to me, Ansem,"
"I never lied to you," he suddenly snarls bearing down on her. She stares right back up at him as he closes their space in heavy paces. "I am a twisted image of a man and I know that I am cruel, but I am not a liar. I wouldn't lie to you, Phoebe. I don't have a reason,"
She abruptly walks past him, out of the room, and onto the small landing space hugging the wall. He follows after her a scowl etching its way across his already exasperated face.
"Phoebe?" He growls. He's trying hard to be nice. So hard.
Her feet pad harshly against the dust-covered floors. There is rigidness in her back. "I can't believe I trusted you,"
"Phoebe!" He snags her around her waist yanking her against him. His large hands grip her shoulders.
"Let go of me." She manages to wriggle her arms free leaving his heavy hands to clamp against both sides of her small rib cage.
"Stop. You are simply over reacting," he bears his teeth, and shakes her roughly.
"No, I'm not, Ansem. I remember. I remember everything. You ripped my soul wide open and snaked your hands around my neck so I couldn't scream," the tears rolled from her brown eyes. Everything was wrong, so wrong.
He began to softly rub and fondle her body. "Half of the darkness in your heart was already there. The jar...," he trailed his eyes darting into open space searching for something to say; anything that would convince her to calm.
"That jar," she gritted her teeth. "Let. Go. Of. Me," forcefully she shoved him away stomping lividly; speeding ahead of him with her jaw clenched. She was convinced alright.
"What are you doing, woman?" He darted after her scowling as she ran away from his advance.
"This jar," she flung around the corner of his office door frame. Her body took a stance her arm poised high above her with the jar she had taken out of the ripped locked cabinet. "This evil, revolting piece of-" a clap sounded as he caught her arm before she could throw.
"This is unnecessary, Phoebe," he spoke low snatching the Jardinière and setting it on a high shelf.
"Apologize," she takes back her arm rubbing were it had made loud contact with his hand.
"I don't regret what I've done," he scoffed.
"If you cared you would apologize,"
"I told you. What was done was done and no longer matters. Now come, Phoebe,"
"No." now she's grabbing her shoes and holding back cries that strangle her throat, burn, and make it painful to breathe.
"Where do you think you're going?" he's agitated and frustrated. He wants her to obey.
"I need to leave." she flings out her arm abandoning all of her things.
"You leave when I tell you. I gave you everything. I'm all you ever wanted. You belong to me!" He barks.
"And it's all the lies the darkness told me. I don't want you. I don't need you. The darkness does," she yells hoarsely.
"That darkness is a part of you, Phoebe. You gave yourself to me and I've done all that you've ever asked. You aren't leaving,"
"You can't stop me," she glowers from under her eyelashes. "I need to think,"
"FINE THEN!" He roars agitating the wicked. The rage drips from his sharp teeth. The world around them darkens with the essence that rolls and emits from his body. "Leave, before I change my mind and do what I should have done before,"
She sways around turning into the murky pooling of a dark corridor.
A pained growl rips from his throat filling the empty hallway with anguish. A surge of foreign emotions (the ones he wasn't supposed to have) ran hot in his chest. He could feel it in his pressure points, and hear it in his ears as the mangled crack and squeal of a steel pipe was ripped effortlessly from the wall next to him. He flung it enraged as it clung loudly against the floor and gushed its inner fluids onto the dirty tile.
Panting he leaned into the wall. Both of his elbows, and forearms supported his weight as he huffed and tried to control his heart rate. He felt slightly dazed at his light head.
He was tired. He was angry (?).
But most of, lonely as the seconds frigidly ticked away.
"She'll be back."
She has to.
The crisp night air whips my hair around and over my shoulders. The night I suppose is still young. I have been here a long while, but I have time before the sun will rear its radiant head.
Just when I think I'll be happy with my decisions the world comes crashing down on me. I don't fear the truth. I fear the consequences it brings. I have never felt this upset in my life. It's seems to always be like this one situation after another.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I rest my forehead against my knees peering over and staring blankly into city lights. The top radio tower is somewhat of a comfort. I don't mind the height, and the top is flat and stable.
My body has already begun to ache, and my head hurts. The wind makes the reddened rims of my eyes sting, and I can almost breathe through my stuffed nose. I don't want to feel this way. A part of me is angry. So very angry. Then there's the other part of me that would forgive him in a heartbeat. But, I'm not sure that really is me wanting to go back, wanting to lay down with him. I tap my forehead with my palms to stop thinking of him. No more tears fall from my eyes, because I have no more. Oh, but merciful heaven. I love him. I love him. I love him.
And it is all a big, nasty lie.
I've always been lied to. Maleficent lied to me. I lied to me. I don't know what's real anymore, or how I'm supposed to feel, because I no longer know my own heart. Maybe I never even knew before. I laugh at myself. It starts small and becomes uncontrollable. Why am I laughing? Nothing is funny.
"What do I do?" I yell at myself trying to pry out some kind solution from the spaces in my mind. I laugh again, cry, and then repeat.
"Not sure," there's a familiar voice from behind me. I scoot away as a crawl up to my haunches.
I squint into space on the tall skyscraper looking for where the voice had come from. A figure in a black leather coat emerges from the shadows their hands placed casually on their hips.
"What do you want?" I recognize the uniform and the cockiness that floats about them.
"Nothin' much. You see I was sent on a little mission to find you," they explain
"What for," I frown.
"The hell if I know. Xemnas is always requesting bizarre things. Not sure why he wants you. I don't see what the fuss is all about. But, yah' know orders are orders,"
"Tell Xemnas I'm flattered, but not all that interested," I state keeping track of the skyscraper's edge.
"Thought you might say that. See, it goes like this. You ain't got a choice. Boss man said he wanted you alive. "So," they clapped and rubbed their gloved hands together. "we can do this the easy way were you can tag along with me nice and pretty and scratch free. Or...we can do this the hard way were I can bring you back half conscious. What's it gonna be?" They flung off their hood and revealed their scarred face. An eye patched covered a missing yellow eye, and graying, long, black, pony-tailed hair showed they were an older man.
"I said no thanks," I crack-summon my whip.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk! If you say so," long, tinted metallic guns appeared in the stranger's hands. With a flick they were locked and loaded. "It's a shame, babe. Your daddy s'not here to protect you now,"
