The past isn't dead. It isn't even past.
-- William Faulkner
"The operation was a complete success." The young girl paid no attention to the doctor. She could only understand the dull throb in the base of her neck. Everything was so clouded over. Eyes no longer betrayed any emotion. She felt nothing from the people she spoke to, and when you've felt something your entire life that now was severed from you it was like a man going blind. Her violet hair covered the wound, the ball of flesh protruding from her head. When the doctor left, she fell forward, banging her forehead against the rim of his desk, and cried.
"What's wrong?" The girl turned in shock at the soft voice. She saw the silhouette of yet another girl. She was a bit taller, and all the girl could make out was her bushy hair and pale blue eyes.
"Nothing's the matter."
The girl stepped forward, stumbling slightly as she lifted up one leg and pulled her neon yellow sock higher around her calf. "I may not know some things, especially now, but I know you can't cry unless there's something wrong."
The violet haired girl frowned and wiped her eyes across her sleeve. "Yeah, well, I can. So go away!"
The bushy haired girl smiled. "You're funny." She leaned forward and held out a hand. "My name is M8, but you can call me Marie."
The violet haired girl reluctantly took her hand. "You're a test subject? But I thought we don't got no names."
Marie took a finger to her lips. "Shh. Then don't tell. So what's your name?"
The girl frowned. "Well, I'm R9. You know, 9th patient of the Right Wing. So you're the 8th patient of the Middle Floor, right?" Marie nodded. R9 stuck her chin between her thumb and forefingers. "Well, if you's gotta a name, I want one. Hmm." The girl winced thoughtfully. "Oh! Hows about Rita?"
Diez sat quietly and waited for the end of their journey. It had been a total of four hours since the train had left the station, and 6 more were to come. M8 and R9 had long since fallen asleep, and as far as he was concerned, all the better. He didn't need those two ditzy girls to lecture him on what he was to do and what he wasn't. They wanted him to provoke Dermail's granddaughter, apparently his sister. They wanted him to gain militaristic power. But that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Dermail dead.
He still could hear her. Every time he closed his eyes, her corpse stretched across his lids. Sometimes she would talk to him until he cried or screamed out loud. And even worse when she wouldn't. She was his dark star. He could feel his heart become darker every time, and now it was little more than a ravenous black hole. He was sure that if he killed Dermail her ghost would stop tormenting him.
"When he shall die, take him and cut him in little stars. And he will make Heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun. " Diez chuckled as he quoted the Shakespeare and fell into the cloak of sleep.
"Mama? Mama?" The wild hair of a boy swept across his noble features. His fingers trembled in the race. The angle at which the room tilted confused him, his breath not coming from his lungs but rather his ears. The blackest night was his only advisory and his only friend. A noise behind him. He turned and saw a light. The light was yellow, and his head heart just from it's glow. But he could not turn away. He stepped forward.
"Who are you?" The round face of a young black girl studied him with sharp green eyes.
The wild haired boy frowned. "My name is Diez Decanem Catalonia."
The black girl smiled. "We've been getting a lot of visitors lately. First the brown haired girl and now a blonde haired big boy." She turned to an older white boy with brown hair. "Innit true, Adam?"
The boy didn't seem to welcome their visitor as much as the younger child. "Hey, how you other kids gittin' in here, huh? We've got work to do."
Diez narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well I do too, so tell me how to get out of here."
Adam smiled. "Yeah, sure you do. What's so important for a gay little shrimp like you to do? Probably nothing big."
Diez turned away. "I have to kill a man. Do you know a Duke Dermail?"
Adam sniffed. "Who's that?"
"Duh. The leader of the Romefellar Foundation. You know, the coexisting counterpart of OZ?" Diez chuckled. "If you know what OZ even is, I mean."
Adam frowned. "What the hell you talkin' about? Everyone knows Julius runs OZ."
"Hey, kid, wake up."
"Huh?" Diez stared into the aqua eyes of R9. He stretched his arm and looked out the window to notice the train station of the Cinq Kingdom in his view.
R9 smiled. "This is it, kid, time to make our move."
-- William Faulkner
"The operation was a complete success." The young girl paid no attention to the doctor. She could only understand the dull throb in the base of her neck. Everything was so clouded over. Eyes no longer betrayed any emotion. She felt nothing from the people she spoke to, and when you've felt something your entire life that now was severed from you it was like a man going blind. Her violet hair covered the wound, the ball of flesh protruding from her head. When the doctor left, she fell forward, banging her forehead against the rim of his desk, and cried.
"What's wrong?" The girl turned in shock at the soft voice. She saw the silhouette of yet another girl. She was a bit taller, and all the girl could make out was her bushy hair and pale blue eyes.
"Nothing's the matter."
The girl stepped forward, stumbling slightly as she lifted up one leg and pulled her neon yellow sock higher around her calf. "I may not know some things, especially now, but I know you can't cry unless there's something wrong."
The violet haired girl frowned and wiped her eyes across her sleeve. "Yeah, well, I can. So go away!"
The bushy haired girl smiled. "You're funny." She leaned forward and held out a hand. "My name is M8, but you can call me Marie."
The violet haired girl reluctantly took her hand. "You're a test subject? But I thought we don't got no names."
Marie took a finger to her lips. "Shh. Then don't tell. So what's your name?"
The girl frowned. "Well, I'm R9. You know, 9th patient of the Right Wing. So you're the 8th patient of the Middle Floor, right?" Marie nodded. R9 stuck her chin between her thumb and forefingers. "Well, if you's gotta a name, I want one. Hmm." The girl winced thoughtfully. "Oh! Hows about Rita?"
Diez sat quietly and waited for the end of their journey. It had been a total of four hours since the train had left the station, and 6 more were to come. M8 and R9 had long since fallen asleep, and as far as he was concerned, all the better. He didn't need those two ditzy girls to lecture him on what he was to do and what he wasn't. They wanted him to provoke Dermail's granddaughter, apparently his sister. They wanted him to gain militaristic power. But that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Dermail dead.
He still could hear her. Every time he closed his eyes, her corpse stretched across his lids. Sometimes she would talk to him until he cried or screamed out loud. And even worse when she wouldn't. She was his dark star. He could feel his heart become darker every time, and now it was little more than a ravenous black hole. He was sure that if he killed Dermail her ghost would stop tormenting him.
"When he shall die, take him and cut him in little stars. And he will make Heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun. " Diez chuckled as he quoted the Shakespeare and fell into the cloak of sleep.
"Mama? Mama?" The wild hair of a boy swept across his noble features. His fingers trembled in the race. The angle at which the room tilted confused him, his breath not coming from his lungs but rather his ears. The blackest night was his only advisory and his only friend. A noise behind him. He turned and saw a light. The light was yellow, and his head heart just from it's glow. But he could not turn away. He stepped forward.
"Who are you?" The round face of a young black girl studied him with sharp green eyes.
The wild haired boy frowned. "My name is Diez Decanem Catalonia."
The black girl smiled. "We've been getting a lot of visitors lately. First the brown haired girl and now a blonde haired big boy." She turned to an older white boy with brown hair. "Innit true, Adam?"
The boy didn't seem to welcome their visitor as much as the younger child. "Hey, how you other kids gittin' in here, huh? We've got work to do."
Diez narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well I do too, so tell me how to get out of here."
Adam smiled. "Yeah, sure you do. What's so important for a gay little shrimp like you to do? Probably nothing big."
Diez turned away. "I have to kill a man. Do you know a Duke Dermail?"
Adam sniffed. "Who's that?"
"Duh. The leader of the Romefellar Foundation. You know, the coexisting counterpart of OZ?" Diez chuckled. "If you know what OZ even is, I mean."
Adam frowned. "What the hell you talkin' about? Everyone knows Julius runs OZ."
"Hey, kid, wake up."
"Huh?" Diez stared into the aqua eyes of R9. He stretched his arm and looked out the window to notice the train station of the Cinq Kingdom in his view.
R9 smiled. "This is it, kid, time to make our move."