Disclaimer: All of the characters herein are the sole property of not me.
The storyline, however, is original.
Elisa returned to her apartment, slowly, each step agonizing in the new humidity of the night. The rain made her leg ache terribly, but she was not concentrating on her leg. She was crying silently, stone-faced, all the way back to her apartment. She had sat outside Goliath's hovel until the dawn, when his weeping suddenly ceased as the sun broke between the skyscrapers of the desperate city, spilling its rays into the dark places. This dawn brought no hope, however. It gave the city a garish light that was like a pallid façade trying to disguise a rotting corpse.
When she opened the door to her apartment, she was forced to look again at what things had come to. Her apartment had once been a cozy getaway in a nice building - a great place for a police woman to lay her head. Now the building was dilapidated, crumbling around Elisa's weary ears. She was startled by the sight of a single red rose, sitting almost defiantly on her desk. It was in stark contrast to the room around it, bright and beautiful. Matt must have delivered it in the night, while she was visiting Goliath.
There came a sharp knock at the door. Elisa opened, and in hobbled Dominique Destine. It seemed that Puck had played one final trick on Demona. While her gargoyle form was immortal thanks to the weird sisters, her human form aged just as quickly as Elisa's had. One day soon morning would come and her human form would die, taking her gargoyle self with it.
"I thought you'd come," said Elisa, quietly.
"Where else am I to go?" began Demona. "Now, more than ever before, I know the meaning of the word alone."
Elisa looked down at Dominique, as her form buckled under the pressure of her wracking sobs. Her red hair had faded to a stringy grey and her flesh hung loosely about her. It was hard for Elisa not to feel sympathy for this poor woman. In their communications over the past twenty years, she had learned the full story of Demona's life - all of the sacrifice, the pain, the loss, the suffering. Hers was a tragic life, and for this Elisa pitied her.
Twenty years ago, however, Demona had finally learned that her vengeance had only cost her more. It was in this moment, however, that she also lost everything she loved.
"Elisa.I.my daughter." Demona reached to the desk to support herself in order to stand up. She felt the rose on the desk as she pushed herself upwards. She looked down at it, fascinated. She picked it up and turned it around in her hand, examining it with tears in her eyes. "So beautiful a thing, and so fragile." she whispered.
"Would you like to have a seat?" Elisa offered.
"Yes. I need to rest." Elisa noticed that Demona was breathing heavily, and her response came in gasps.
"Did you bring it?" Elisa asked of her friend, as she took a seat.
Demona sat heavily in a chair by the window and looked out at the morning. A distant look came over her, and Elisa knew that she was going over the events of that night twenty years ago, wondering what she could have done differently. Elisa herself did this often enough to know the look.
"Yes. I have it here." Demona said sadly. From her heavy clothing she pulled a large object, wrapped in torn fabric and handed it across to Elisa.
She reached out her hand, and as soon as she accepted it she felt the heaviness of the package, and the sadness of the bittersweet gift within. Slowly, she unwrapped the ragged cloth and stared grimly at the cover of the grimorum acanorum. This would never have been necessary, if only things had been different. If only.
Elisa returned to her apartment, slowly, each step agonizing in the new humidity of the night. The rain made her leg ache terribly, but she was not concentrating on her leg. She was crying silently, stone-faced, all the way back to her apartment. She had sat outside Goliath's hovel until the dawn, when his weeping suddenly ceased as the sun broke between the skyscrapers of the desperate city, spilling its rays into the dark places. This dawn brought no hope, however. It gave the city a garish light that was like a pallid façade trying to disguise a rotting corpse.
When she opened the door to her apartment, she was forced to look again at what things had come to. Her apartment had once been a cozy getaway in a nice building - a great place for a police woman to lay her head. Now the building was dilapidated, crumbling around Elisa's weary ears. She was startled by the sight of a single red rose, sitting almost defiantly on her desk. It was in stark contrast to the room around it, bright and beautiful. Matt must have delivered it in the night, while she was visiting Goliath.
There came a sharp knock at the door. Elisa opened, and in hobbled Dominique Destine. It seemed that Puck had played one final trick on Demona. While her gargoyle form was immortal thanks to the weird sisters, her human form aged just as quickly as Elisa's had. One day soon morning would come and her human form would die, taking her gargoyle self with it.
"I thought you'd come," said Elisa, quietly.
"Where else am I to go?" began Demona. "Now, more than ever before, I know the meaning of the word alone."
Elisa looked down at Dominique, as her form buckled under the pressure of her wracking sobs. Her red hair had faded to a stringy grey and her flesh hung loosely about her. It was hard for Elisa not to feel sympathy for this poor woman. In their communications over the past twenty years, she had learned the full story of Demona's life - all of the sacrifice, the pain, the loss, the suffering. Hers was a tragic life, and for this Elisa pitied her.
Twenty years ago, however, Demona had finally learned that her vengeance had only cost her more. It was in this moment, however, that she also lost everything she loved.
"Elisa.I.my daughter." Demona reached to the desk to support herself in order to stand up. She felt the rose on the desk as she pushed herself upwards. She looked down at it, fascinated. She picked it up and turned it around in her hand, examining it with tears in her eyes. "So beautiful a thing, and so fragile." she whispered.
"Would you like to have a seat?" Elisa offered.
"Yes. I need to rest." Elisa noticed that Demona was breathing heavily, and her response came in gasps.
"Did you bring it?" Elisa asked of her friend, as she took a seat.
Demona sat heavily in a chair by the window and looked out at the morning. A distant look came over her, and Elisa knew that she was going over the events of that night twenty years ago, wondering what she could have done differently. Elisa herself did this often enough to know the look.
"Yes. I have it here." Demona said sadly. From her heavy clothing she pulled a large object, wrapped in torn fabric and handed it across to Elisa.
She reached out her hand, and as soon as she accepted it she felt the heaviness of the package, and the sadness of the bittersweet gift within. Slowly, she unwrapped the ragged cloth and stared grimly at the cover of the grimorum acanorum. This would never have been necessary, if only things had been different. If only.