lol, you guys are getting so emotional. I find it quite entertaining :D. Be glad though, you've inspired me to make this chapter even better than it was when I first wrote it. Which, is why I'm posting it on Monday, and not Sunday like I said I might. Your reviews bring a much-needed smile to my face, so please keep it up. Um.. tell you what. Read it, and I'll see you at the bottom.
=^..^=
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The world around her was darker than midnight, and that was all Marguerite knew. The only thing she could hear was her own voice, rambling on.
'This can't be all there is. There must be more to life than this. More to *me* than this... How much longer until I'm finally made whole?'
Then, through the darkness, Marguerite felt the reply more than she heard it.
'Only as long as you allow, dear one. Only as long as you allow.'
And suddenly, the world was rushing back towards her. Once more, Marguerite could feel the stone beneath her. She could feel the various bruises from when the deamon had dropped her the first time, and a few cuts from when she had fallen limply from his hand. Slowly, she pushed herself from the ground and opened her eyes.
The deamon regarded her with horror.
"No. You're dead!" It cried.
"Next time, you might want to try snapping the neck." Marguerite advised. "It has less room for error than suffocation does."
"No time like the present." The deamon growled as it lunged for her once more.
Marguerite raised her hand, and the deamon met an invisible wall of resistance.
"Sorry, you only get one chance at killing me." Marguerite smiled to herself. "Something most learn the hard way."
"But you are a mere mortal." The creature argued. "You cannot defeat me."
"There is nothing 'mere' about me, thank you." Marguerite glared at the deamon. "And it seems my little trip into unconsciousness brought a few hidden powers to the surface. You don't stand a chance anymore."
The deamon through all it's weight onto Marguerite's invisible wall, and it buckled beneath the strain.
"Looks like you aren't as invincible as you thought." It taunted Marguerite as it snatched her from the ground. And for the third time that day, Marguerite found herself much farther off of the ground than she would have liked.
"You know, I realized something while I was having my little power nap." Marguerite spoke as she tried to break free of the deamon's all too powerful grip. "For all the millennia of your existence, the only emotion you have ever felt is anger. You aren't equipped to handle anything else."
"And what, you're going to love me until I explode?" The deamon sneered. "Someone already tried that three hundred or so years ago. He's now decorating the wall of my lair."
"No. Not love. Sorrow." Marguerite got her hands loose and grabbed ahold of the deamon's arm. "A sorrow so great that it makes every other emotion pale in comparison. A sorrow so strong that it numbs you from the inside out."
Marguerite closed her eyes, and put all of her concentration onto the leathery hide beneath her fingers. But nothing happened.
"Damnit, why isn't it working?" Marguerite muttered.
"You're just like that stupid hunter." The deamon laughed at her expense. "Waiting for some higher power to come down and save you." The deamon's voice dropped low, taunting. "He screamed so loud when I sliced his belly open."
Marguerite released a primal roar and a bright light surged from her hands, into the deamon.
"Who do you think you are?" She demanded furiously. "Lord John Roxton was so much more than you could *ever* hope to be!" She shouted.
The deamon gasped as it's skin started to crack. It fell to it's knees, but still Marguerite continued.
"How do you like death now?" Marguerite snapped. "Isn't so fun when you're the one dying, is it?"
Her hair whipped wildly around her face as a great wind filled the room. A green, slick substance began to flow from the creature's cracked skin, it's eyes bulging. The light had almost consumed the deamon by now.
"I'll make you pay for taking him from me." Marguerite snarled. "I'll turn your skin inside out and make your blood boil, and you'll regret having ever harmed a single hair on his head!"
The deamon's hand went limp as it toppled backwards, but still Marguerite would not let go of it. She continued to pour as much emotion into it as she could.
"You'll pay, damnit." She insisted.
"Marguerite." Sidra's soft voice called from behind her. "Marguerite, he's gone." The angel insisted. "He can't hurt you anymore."
"He'll pay." Marguerite insisted fiercely. "For taking Roxton away from me.. I'll make him pay."
"Marguerite!" Sidra snapped. "It's over!"
Sidra stepped around the deamon's still body to where the heiress sat, determined. She placed a gentle hand on Marguerite's shoulder.
"You have to let go." Sidra spoke softly.
Marguerite turned towards her slowly, her eyes tired and empty.
"It's over?" She asked softly.
"It is." Sidra assured her. "You did it."
Marguerite released the deamon quickly, as if it were poison.
"To hell with paradise." She spat.
"Roxton would be proud." Sidra murmured.
Marguerite nodded numbly, tears starting to form in her eyes. But before she could say anything to the angel beside her, the room was fading away in a swirl of mist. Marguerite blinked, only to find herself back in the middle of the jungle, the sun long set.
"Marguerite!" Challenger exclaimed, rushing towards her. "I Found her, she's over here!" He called to the others. And in no time, Malone and Veronica appeared before her as well.
"You had us worried." Veronica told her.
"How long was I gone?" Marguerite asked.
"More than a day." Malone replied.
The three exchanged worried looks.
"You didn't notice the time passing?" Challenger asked gently, concerned.
Marguerite glanced up at them, blinking back tears.
"I.. I was busy." She supplied.
"Busy?" Malone echoed.
Marguerite recounted her adventure with as much detail as she could. She told them about the angel, the tests she had passed, the dungeon, the deamon, the darkness, and finally, her victory. When she had finished, she regarded them expectantly.
"Marguerite, we need to get you to bed." Challenger spoke finally. "We've set up camp not far from here, and we can return to the treehouse at daybreak."
"You don't believe me." Marguerite accused him. "None of you do."
"You've had a rough 24 hours." Veronica tried to sooth her. "Some rest will do you good."
"I'm not crazy!" Marguerite insisted. "Look, I'll prove it to you."
Marguerite held out her hand, muttered a few words the other explorers didn't understand, and waited. A small ball of fire should have appeared above her hand, and remained floating there, but nothing happened.
"It happened." She insisted. "I swear it did."
"Why don't we get you back to the camp?" Malone suggested. "Maybe in the morning you'll feel better."
Marguerite let them guide her to where they were camped, all the while running over every small detail of the past 24 hours. If she had just imagined it, there was no way she would remember everything with such clarity. It didn't matter if they believed her, Marguerite knew that she
had saved the plateau, and the rest of the universe. Even if the others never knew, she did. And that was enough.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Yay, the deamon is good and dead! That'll teach him to mess with the man Marguerite loves. So there. lol :D
All right, sorry to all of you who wanted them to re-unite in heaven (Audrey, Steph, Jaclyn..) But as you can see, Marguerite wasn't really dead. Just unconscious. So, thoughts? This isn't the last chapter. I have one more for sure, just to wrap everything up. It's already written, I just want to go through and fix it up a little. So, I figured I'd post this to keep all of you happy, let it gather a few reviews while I edited, and post the next chapter tomorrow, or the day after. So, go ahead and review it. Make a simple little kitty cat happy, lol. ;) See you all next chapter.
Dai stiho
~CrimsonCat~
=^..^=
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The world around her was darker than midnight, and that was all Marguerite knew. The only thing she could hear was her own voice, rambling on.
'This can't be all there is. There must be more to life than this. More to *me* than this... How much longer until I'm finally made whole?'
Then, through the darkness, Marguerite felt the reply more than she heard it.
'Only as long as you allow, dear one. Only as long as you allow.'
And suddenly, the world was rushing back towards her. Once more, Marguerite could feel the stone beneath her. She could feel the various bruises from when the deamon had dropped her the first time, and a few cuts from when she had fallen limply from his hand. Slowly, she pushed herself from the ground and opened her eyes.
The deamon regarded her with horror.
"No. You're dead!" It cried.
"Next time, you might want to try snapping the neck." Marguerite advised. "It has less room for error than suffocation does."
"No time like the present." The deamon growled as it lunged for her once more.
Marguerite raised her hand, and the deamon met an invisible wall of resistance.
"Sorry, you only get one chance at killing me." Marguerite smiled to herself. "Something most learn the hard way."
"But you are a mere mortal." The creature argued. "You cannot defeat me."
"There is nothing 'mere' about me, thank you." Marguerite glared at the deamon. "And it seems my little trip into unconsciousness brought a few hidden powers to the surface. You don't stand a chance anymore."
The deamon through all it's weight onto Marguerite's invisible wall, and it buckled beneath the strain.
"Looks like you aren't as invincible as you thought." It taunted Marguerite as it snatched her from the ground. And for the third time that day, Marguerite found herself much farther off of the ground than she would have liked.
"You know, I realized something while I was having my little power nap." Marguerite spoke as she tried to break free of the deamon's all too powerful grip. "For all the millennia of your existence, the only emotion you have ever felt is anger. You aren't equipped to handle anything else."
"And what, you're going to love me until I explode?" The deamon sneered. "Someone already tried that three hundred or so years ago. He's now decorating the wall of my lair."
"No. Not love. Sorrow." Marguerite got her hands loose and grabbed ahold of the deamon's arm. "A sorrow so great that it makes every other emotion pale in comparison. A sorrow so strong that it numbs you from the inside out."
Marguerite closed her eyes, and put all of her concentration onto the leathery hide beneath her fingers. But nothing happened.
"Damnit, why isn't it working?" Marguerite muttered.
"You're just like that stupid hunter." The deamon laughed at her expense. "Waiting for some higher power to come down and save you." The deamon's voice dropped low, taunting. "He screamed so loud when I sliced his belly open."
Marguerite released a primal roar and a bright light surged from her hands, into the deamon.
"Who do you think you are?" She demanded furiously. "Lord John Roxton was so much more than you could *ever* hope to be!" She shouted.
The deamon gasped as it's skin started to crack. It fell to it's knees, but still Marguerite continued.
"How do you like death now?" Marguerite snapped. "Isn't so fun when you're the one dying, is it?"
Her hair whipped wildly around her face as a great wind filled the room. A green, slick substance began to flow from the creature's cracked skin, it's eyes bulging. The light had almost consumed the deamon by now.
"I'll make you pay for taking him from me." Marguerite snarled. "I'll turn your skin inside out and make your blood boil, and you'll regret having ever harmed a single hair on his head!"
The deamon's hand went limp as it toppled backwards, but still Marguerite would not let go of it. She continued to pour as much emotion into it as she could.
"You'll pay, damnit." She insisted.
"Marguerite." Sidra's soft voice called from behind her. "Marguerite, he's gone." The angel insisted. "He can't hurt you anymore."
"He'll pay." Marguerite insisted fiercely. "For taking Roxton away from me.. I'll make him pay."
"Marguerite!" Sidra snapped. "It's over!"
Sidra stepped around the deamon's still body to where the heiress sat, determined. She placed a gentle hand on Marguerite's shoulder.
"You have to let go." Sidra spoke softly.
Marguerite turned towards her slowly, her eyes tired and empty.
"It's over?" She asked softly.
"It is." Sidra assured her. "You did it."
Marguerite released the deamon quickly, as if it were poison.
"To hell with paradise." She spat.
"Roxton would be proud." Sidra murmured.
Marguerite nodded numbly, tears starting to form in her eyes. But before she could say anything to the angel beside her, the room was fading away in a swirl of mist. Marguerite blinked, only to find herself back in the middle of the jungle, the sun long set.
"Marguerite!" Challenger exclaimed, rushing towards her. "I Found her, she's over here!" He called to the others. And in no time, Malone and Veronica appeared before her as well.
"You had us worried." Veronica told her.
"How long was I gone?" Marguerite asked.
"More than a day." Malone replied.
The three exchanged worried looks.
"You didn't notice the time passing?" Challenger asked gently, concerned.
Marguerite glanced up at them, blinking back tears.
"I.. I was busy." She supplied.
"Busy?" Malone echoed.
Marguerite recounted her adventure with as much detail as she could. She told them about the angel, the tests she had passed, the dungeon, the deamon, the darkness, and finally, her victory. When she had finished, she regarded them expectantly.
"Marguerite, we need to get you to bed." Challenger spoke finally. "We've set up camp not far from here, and we can return to the treehouse at daybreak."
"You don't believe me." Marguerite accused him. "None of you do."
"You've had a rough 24 hours." Veronica tried to sooth her. "Some rest will do you good."
"I'm not crazy!" Marguerite insisted. "Look, I'll prove it to you."
Marguerite held out her hand, muttered a few words the other explorers didn't understand, and waited. A small ball of fire should have appeared above her hand, and remained floating there, but nothing happened.
"It happened." She insisted. "I swear it did."
"Why don't we get you back to the camp?" Malone suggested. "Maybe in the morning you'll feel better."
Marguerite let them guide her to where they were camped, all the while running over every small detail of the past 24 hours. If she had just imagined it, there was no way she would remember everything with such clarity. It didn't matter if they believed her, Marguerite knew that she
had saved the plateau, and the rest of the universe. Even if the others never knew, she did. And that was enough.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Yay, the deamon is good and dead! That'll teach him to mess with the man Marguerite loves. So there. lol :D
All right, sorry to all of you who wanted them to re-unite in heaven (Audrey, Steph, Jaclyn..) But as you can see, Marguerite wasn't really dead. Just unconscious. So, thoughts? This isn't the last chapter. I have one more for sure, just to wrap everything up. It's already written, I just want to go through and fix it up a little. So, I figured I'd post this to keep all of you happy, let it gather a few reviews while I edited, and post the next chapter tomorrow, or the day after. So, go ahead and review it. Make a simple little kitty cat happy, lol. ;) See you all next chapter.
Dai stiho
~CrimsonCat~