"If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh?
If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?"
—William Shakespeare (1564–1616)
"And if any mischief follow, then thou shalt give life for life, eye
for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning,
wound for wound, stripe for stripe." —Hebrew Bible. Exodus 21:23.
"No more tears now; I will think upon
revenge." —Mary Stuart (1542–87), Queen of Scotland (Mary Queen of
Scots)
Midnight
Sun:
A Prequel to Shadows of the Past
By Chris Fujioka
Part Two: Righteous Fire
"The night is cold, as cold as our hearts, isn't It, little one?
Feel their fear, child. It makes you powerful, doesn't it? I know how you feel.
I know because you are just like me. You are of my blood, my heart, my flesh,
and my soul. We are both dark stars, inexhaustible and invincible. I see the
look on your face child, and I know what you crave. Take this blade, child.
Look at how it shines; look at the terror it inspires in them. Show them how
powerful you are, child. Make them fear you as they have feared no other. Yes,
yes, very good, very good. They are so weak, so pathetically weak. Look at them
shiver as you approach. What's wrong, child? Why do you hesitate? Look at the
birds, the Ravens. They sense your power, what you are capable of. The Ravens
sense that you are the hand of death."
The night was cold indeed. Catherine Parker shivered as the icy wind bit
into her bones. She watched ravens hop about, attracted to this field of death
and blood. Catherine was amazed that she was still alive, but she was weak,
very weak. She tried to raise her weary head as ravens feasted on the dead,
gouging and tearing eyes out. The stench of death obscured her sense of smell.
Her mouth had the taste of dry ash, and her throat was as scorched as desert
sand.
The ravens cawed, satisfied with what they dined on. Several flopped to
where Catherine lay. They picked at her, pulled her hair, and tore her skin.
"Go away," Catherine croaked. Tears of pain ran down her cheek,
and her life ebbed away. She was cold, alone, and forlorn. Her will to live
shattered when she watched the boy die.
She heard the voice of her husband in her mind. "Catherine, are you so
weak that you would let yourself die? Get up, Catherine, GET UP!"
A searing, hot-white light blinded Catherine. God, my head throbs, Catherine
thought.
"I said GET UP! Catherine, what the hell are you doing still sleeping?
There is a board meeting at nine, an appointment with Dr. Yersinia at eleven,
and don't forget the social dinner with your sister at five! I still can't
stand that obnoxious woman!"
Groggily, Catherine woke up. She blinked a few times and realized that she
had only been dreaming. It was just a terrible dream.
Fredrik Jonathan Parker looked down at his wife. Gradually, he became aware
that she wasn't listening to him. Insolent woman, he thought. How dare she
ignore him? I'll teach her a lesson she won't forget.
Catherine cried out in pain as he struck her. He grabbed a fistful of hair
and pulled her to her feet. He slapped her once, then twice across the face and
dragged her out of the bed. He opened a drawer, reached in, and revealed a Colt
.45. He pointed the gun at her and aimed. „I'll kill you, do you here me? I
will kill you!" He waved the gun at her chest and clenched the gun with
unrestrained anger that matched the fury of the storm outside.
What did I do wrong now? Catherine wondered. Her head still throbbed, and
she felt the ache of new pain. Fredrik has never hit me before, why does he
now? Thousands of questions entered her mind, and her head hung in despair.
Fredrik Parker eyes flashed with dark intensity. The woman was ignoring him
again! She still dared to defy him! I am the most powerful man in the Centre,
and I will not take such impudence from anyone! Not anyone, especially from a
woman, a woman who was supposed to be his wife. He could hold back no longer
and a single shot rang out, as loud as thunder.
Catherine gasped in disbelief, surprised that her husband had actually shot
her. She struggled to breathe and felt the warm wetness of blood drench her
nightgown.
Fredrik dropped the gun and ran to Catherine's side. He was shocked at what
he had done and now felt ashamed. How could he have such hatred for the woman
he loved? He held Catherine as he watched the life start to fade from her eyes.
As she lay dying, Catherine looked past her husband. What she saw surprised
her more than her husband's crime. A visage of a scarred, disfigured man
appeared in the mirrors. His wrinkled skin and ghoulish eyes gave him the
appearance of a reptile. A plastic tube led up to his nose, and he leaned on a
stormy-gray oxygen tank. Lightning flashed and reflected off the mirror,
turning the man's skin a deathly pale white. He seemed like an evil ghost,
ready to send Catherine to the afterlife. Catherine turned back to look at her
husband's tear streaked face. Life would go on for him, but for her, the end
was near. The thunder growled, becoming louder and louder until it was the only
sound she heard. She shook involuntarily, and with her last dying breath, she
screamed.
„Catherine! Wake up! Catherine, Catherine! It's only a dream!"
Catherine continued to scream, and she sobbed in the strong arms that held
her.
„Shhh, everything is going to be alright. You're fine now." A handsome
man of twenty-seven years held Catherine. He had soft, blue eyes that had a
mysterious twinkle in them, as if he knew some unknown secret of the universe.
His face was finely chiseled, with the quality of an artist's fine touch. His
worried frown showed the concern he felt for the young woman.
Catherine looked at the loving, tender, and caring face of Stephan Arreis.
She got up and hugged Stephan with fervor. „I love you, Stephan,"
Catherine said this with all her heart. A few tears still stained her checks,
but Stephan quickly wiped them away. He kissed her passionately and smoothed
Catherine's silky hair. Basking in the warmth Stephan provided, she let her
heart fill with his love, and soon her nightmares were forgotten.
Catherine awoke in the morning feeling energized and content. She went into
the bathroom to freshen up. She looked at herself in the mirror, immobile and
in deep thought. It was as if she was gazing at a photograph of the future, her
own daughter or granddaughter flipping through the family albulm, and coming
upon the image of Catherine Jameson Parker. Oh, how she longed to have a child,
a child to love and to cherish.
It was in this very instant that Catherine saw how unpleasant and distorted
her life had become. Perhaps, it was the thought of a daughter, a child that
she might not ever bear, that made her consider her life. There was not a thing
in her life that was considered normal. She belonged to the Centre body and
soul. Even the small pleasure and contentment she felt with Stephan paled to
the stranglehold the Centre had around her. Her marriage with her husband was
falling apart, and all he seemed to care about was increasing his power and
dominance within the Centre.
She splashed cold water on her face and dispelled such thoughts from her
mind. It wasn't good to have such thoughts. The Centre was her life, and maybe,
just maybe, she could change the Centre for the better. Then, she could bring
happiness and joy to the Centre. Nevertheless, she knew this was just a hope, a
faint dream. She didn't have times for dreams, and she had a very busy day
ahead of her.
2.
„Strike now, child. Yield to your natural instincts. Snuff their
insignificant lives out. They don't deserve to live. You are better than they are.
To them, you are a god. They worship you with reverence as you instill fear in
their hearts. Take their lives, and you shall ascend to immortality."
„Where do you think you are going, child? Did I say you could leave?
We haven't even begun to show these insignificant creatures what true power is.
Come back, child. I said come back! COME BACK! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME, CHILD?!
I'll come for you! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I'LL COME FOR YOU!!!"
All was quiet in the streets of Berlin. The ruckus of the mobs had died out
during the night, and for once, the city slept serenely. But soon, as midnight
approached, the sleeping lion would roar. Snow fell, and the moon shone with an
intense brightness, as if it were a midnight sun.
Two malevolent, watchful eyes oversaw the streets of Berlin. These watchful
eyes penetrated through the souls of the human rats below. Compared to them, I
am a god, the mind of the eyes thought. I stand high above them; none of them
are worthy of my time. Only one is, and he shall soon be mine. Her gaze shifted
to a mother and her child. She waited, like a vulture, for the right moment to
strike.
The pair had no idea that they were being watched. The mother raced with the
other rats as they searched, begged, or fought for food. She elbowed her way
through the crowd. Her feet felt stuck in mud, her leg muscles sapped of
energy. She passed by a group of metal scavengers twiddling with a bomb dud.
They didn't know what it was; they just knew it had metal. Their ignorance cost
them their lives.
The earth rumbled, and an avalanche of brick, splintered wood, and shattered
glass descended on those caught under it. The mother curled herself into a
protective ball around the child, smashed one shoulder and knee against the wet
brick. Her curled position at the base of a wall saved her life. A stray brick
stuck her a blow against the temple, leaving a long, deep gash all the way from
her scalp to the ridge of her brow.
Sirens went off, and the German Secret Police cleared the area. The mother
struggled to get up, and the young boy tugged at her arm. She pulled herself up
with great effort and walked away. The German soldiers, seeing her, ordered her
to stop. When she did not comply, they shot her, and the little boy, terrified,
ran.
The child ran as fast and as far as he could, but he was quickly exhausted.
He deeply regretted leaving his mother, and he began to cry. „Mami," he
repeated to himself. He kept repeating that word as if that word alone would
resurrect her.
Catherine Parker came out in the cold morning, after resting from her previous
day's business. She walked on stiff legs between many children running after
pigeons. Their faces were so innocent, cheeks as round as apples, their lips
and hands sticky with sweets. Unconsciously, Catherine touched her belly with
her fingertips. She wondered whether she would ever know what it felt like to
have a child growing inside her.
A rubber ball painted blue and black bounced her way. She caught it while it
was in the air and threw it back to the waiting girl who had missed the catch.
The child caught the toss and laughed in delight. It was infectious, and
Catherine laughed with her.
She left the children with their joy and as she passed through an alley she
heard the sobbing of a young boy. Concerned, Catherine walked over to him and
recoiled with shock. The boy was the child in her dreams! Suddenly nervous, she
backed away from the child but had a change of heart. She wondered if she would
be able to save the child in real life. I will save him, Catherine thought,
suddenly very determined. She picked the child up in her arms and carried him
away.
„And where are you taking that child, girl? You know I won't let you have
him." A gaunt, ancient crone walked arrogantly in front of Catherine, and
she gasped in surprise. It was the old woman in her dreams! She would be the
one who would kill the boy while the soldiers behind her would beat me to
death, Catherine understood. Well, I won't let her kill him this time.
„You can't have him," Catherine stated boldly. „He isn't yours, and I
won't give him to you. You can try your worst, but you will not succeed."
With one arm, she grabbed the old woman and after running back a distance,
Catherine shoved her towards the soldiers. The soldiers, distracted, helped the
woman back to her feet as Catherine ran into an alley with the child.
„After her, you fools! I want her and the boy back alive, so I can
personally tear their hearts from them. With single command from the
feeble-seeming woman, they spread out in search of the runaway pair.
Catherine ran through the alleys and streets of Berlin, thankful that
she was well fit. She had gained good distance on the soldiers, but they were
soon close behind her. She turned down an alley, but it happened to be a dead
end. The soldiers came nearer and nearer. She backed up against the wall and
saw the soldiers approach the alleyway. A door to the building to Catherine's
left opened, and rough hands pulled her in so suddenly that she nearly dropped
the child.
She was guided down a dark basement and led into a secret passageway. She
was safe from the soldiers, but even though her life was saved, she didn't know
if she could trust her rescuer. „Who are you? What do you want from me and why
did you rescue me?" Catherine wanted answers though she was in no position
to demand them.
The stranger chuckled and showed his face for the first time. He was a
plain-looking man, around thirty, with dark brown hair. His grin had a calming
effect on Catherine, and she began to feel safer. „My name is Ben, Ben Miller.
Please forgive the way I took you, but there didn't seem to be much time."
Ben turned around to look at the boy's wound and treated them carefully.
Several weeks passed, and Catherine and Ben soon became good friends. They
cared for the little boy as if he were their own child, and the two began to
take the place of his real parents. His mother was now just a faint memory and
his given name had been forgotten. He was very quick to learn English, and the
boy was proved himself to be very bright. He seemed too bright for a child of
his age. This made Catherine wonder if he were a Pretender, one of the Centre's
trained geniuses. Catherine loved the child with all her heart, but she wanted
a child of her own so she could experience the life growing inside of her. And
on January 4, 1959, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Catherine Parker's
wildest dreams had come true.