Beep, beep, beep..
The jarring sound of two alarm clocks shattered the gossamer thread connecting two consciences.
***
Sara hated her alarm clock~ it was chrome and screamed 'Irons' who had, in fact, given her the offending object one Christmas. Moreover, the color successfully refracted the brittle rays wintry sunshine directly into her eyes. Undoubtedly engineered in its design. Then there was the ringing, just high pitched enough to generate a splitting headache in under 5 minutes. Yet another engineered 'asset' of Lilith's thoughtful gift. Hurling her self out of bed, she tottered into the adjoining bathroom to begin her morning ritual. This included taking a quick shower to finish what the alarm clock's work and applying what little makeup Lilith's keen eyes would be unable to detect.
Hazarding a glance into the mirror, her eyes were immediately drawn to a ruby stain adorning her chest. "Holy shit!" The white tee shirt she had worn to be now was sporting a fist sized stain of wine?....no....blood! She carefully touched her fingers to the stain. Her eyes widened imperceptibly to find it dry. It was as if whatever had wounded her had done so at least a day....or a night ago. Lifting up her shirt she was even more startled to find the skin itself unmarred. Thinking out loud she screeched, "Damn it all to hell! Lilith is gonna be pissed if I ruined her designer sheets!" feeling better; she began retracing her steps back to the four -poster bed, fully prepared to burn the evidence if necessary. Looking down at the pale pink sheets Sara gasped~ they were completely devoid of blood. Death, gunshots, a swirling red eye, and a single anguished scream flickered behind her eyes.
***
The persistent beep, beep, beep of Ian's alarm clock obliterated his sorry excuse for sleep. Slitting his eyes, he was almost overwhelmed by a sense of anger and blame directed towards the witchblade. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his hand encountered beads of moisture dotting his cheeks. Had he been crying, and if so why? So many unanswered questions, he groaned into his pillow. Ian's blurry eyes widened when he saw his left hand~ it was dominated by a red stain. He was familiar enough with death and its markers that the dried blood was easily identifiable. Holding the hand in question under a lamp for better viewing he examined the spot. It was dry but still glowed an angry red. Straining his memory, he attempted to recall the dream that had robbed him of sleep for most of the night. The only fragment the witchblade deemed to reveal was a pair of emerald green eyes.
** Shadows skittered and a light breeze ruffled the gauze curtains of Lilith's ebony four poster. This had the unsettling effect of a mockery of movement. Rumination on these sprightly phantoms conjured faces of others no substantial than her bed's diaphanous drapings....and having just as much substance, some even less. Lilith prided herself on her thoroughness, she chuckled lightly thinking on all the birth certificates and public records that had been "altered" over the years. Yes, when someone displeased her they were not simply killed---no, they were utterly extinguished, every trace of their existence wiped clean. Her thin lips twisted wryly remembering the accountant and her fingers yet itched for a knife. That one had not lasted long under her methods. Lilith had acquired a taste for doing her own dirty work over the years---in fact that was what had drawn her to the CIA in the first place. A sound as soft as a cat's steps was filtered out of the vast quiet---Sarah must be up.
In the predawn darkness Lilith grimaced---Sarah had been extremely negligent of her duties as of late. She's certainly long overdue of another reminder of who's truly in control. The thought made her smile, and this time genuinely. She would genuinely enjoy extracting Sarah's penance. But how best? The girl is impervious to most physical torment I could devise.....and yet she is not invulnerable no matter how hard she tries to be....perhaps something involving that imbecilic detective the blade has taken a fancy too. Yes, some act that would discredit my pet assassin in his eyes and allow me to complete my carefully orchestrated seduction and betrayal.
**
The jarring sound of two alarm clocks shattered the gossamer thread connecting two consciences.
***
Sara hated her alarm clock~ it was chrome and screamed 'Irons' who had, in fact, given her the offending object one Christmas. Moreover, the color successfully refracted the brittle rays wintry sunshine directly into her eyes. Undoubtedly engineered in its design. Then there was the ringing, just high pitched enough to generate a splitting headache in under 5 minutes. Yet another engineered 'asset' of Lilith's thoughtful gift. Hurling her self out of bed, she tottered into the adjoining bathroom to begin her morning ritual. This included taking a quick shower to finish what the alarm clock's work and applying what little makeup Lilith's keen eyes would be unable to detect.
Hazarding a glance into the mirror, her eyes were immediately drawn to a ruby stain adorning her chest. "Holy shit!" The white tee shirt she had worn to be now was sporting a fist sized stain of wine?....no....blood! She carefully touched her fingers to the stain. Her eyes widened imperceptibly to find it dry. It was as if whatever had wounded her had done so at least a day....or a night ago. Lifting up her shirt she was even more startled to find the skin itself unmarred. Thinking out loud she screeched, "Damn it all to hell! Lilith is gonna be pissed if I ruined her designer sheets!" feeling better; she began retracing her steps back to the four -poster bed, fully prepared to burn the evidence if necessary. Looking down at the pale pink sheets Sara gasped~ they were completely devoid of blood. Death, gunshots, a swirling red eye, and a single anguished scream flickered behind her eyes.
***
The persistent beep, beep, beep of Ian's alarm clock obliterated his sorry excuse for sleep. Slitting his eyes, he was almost overwhelmed by a sense of anger and blame directed towards the witchblade. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his hand encountered beads of moisture dotting his cheeks. Had he been crying, and if so why? So many unanswered questions, he groaned into his pillow. Ian's blurry eyes widened when he saw his left hand~ it was dominated by a red stain. He was familiar enough with death and its markers that the dried blood was easily identifiable. Holding the hand in question under a lamp for better viewing he examined the spot. It was dry but still glowed an angry red. Straining his memory, he attempted to recall the dream that had robbed him of sleep for most of the night. The only fragment the witchblade deemed to reveal was a pair of emerald green eyes.
** Shadows skittered and a light breeze ruffled the gauze curtains of Lilith's ebony four poster. This had the unsettling effect of a mockery of movement. Rumination on these sprightly phantoms conjured faces of others no substantial than her bed's diaphanous drapings....and having just as much substance, some even less. Lilith prided herself on her thoroughness, she chuckled lightly thinking on all the birth certificates and public records that had been "altered" over the years. Yes, when someone displeased her they were not simply killed---no, they were utterly extinguished, every trace of their existence wiped clean. Her thin lips twisted wryly remembering the accountant and her fingers yet itched for a knife. That one had not lasted long under her methods. Lilith had acquired a taste for doing her own dirty work over the years---in fact that was what had drawn her to the CIA in the first place. A sound as soft as a cat's steps was filtered out of the vast quiet---Sarah must be up.
In the predawn darkness Lilith grimaced---Sarah had been extremely negligent of her duties as of late. She's certainly long overdue of another reminder of who's truly in control. The thought made her smile, and this time genuinely. She would genuinely enjoy extracting Sarah's penance. But how best? The girl is impervious to most physical torment I could devise.....and yet she is not invulnerable no matter how hard she tries to be....perhaps something involving that imbecilic detective the blade has taken a fancy too. Yes, some act that would discredit my pet assassin in his eyes and allow me to complete my carefully orchestrated seduction and betrayal.
**