Reviews:
Gothic Spook: Well, I hope this chapter satisfies. And then there will be another chapter that follows.
Samantha: It's okay! I'm glad you're enjoying this!
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"You will never be strong enough.
You will never be good enough.
You were never conceived in love.
You will never rise above…"
~Evanescence, Lies from Origin
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Chapter 14: History, Ridder's Bait, Animals, and John Starts Getting Very Angry
I can't believe I failed something so simple, so completely foolproof.
I cannot believe I have failed this mission. I was asked to do something Ridder could have sent that moron Louis to do.
But instead I am wounded and without a way out. No doubt they will torture me, or she will. She always was so hard done by, always the more immature of the two. She would sulk and whine about everything, at least when she was human.
And even with that god damn breed she's still human, if not more so. She still feels the crushing weight of her failures. She bleeds as I bleed. She screams as I scream. She cries as I cry. We are the same, you see, bound by invisible chains that keep her as human as me.
We met on what I have come to remember like yesterday. Every time I recall it I can still smell the cold crisp air in the cement outdoors. I can taste the artificial flavour on the air. I can see nothing in any direction but high cement walls and chicken wire over the small play area. She was sitting in the corner alone, cross legged with her eyes closed. The other children were alone as well, but I figured she would be fun to 'play' with. She looked so pathetic there. She was younger than me and more fragile in her white robes.
So I walked over naturally. I wanted to taste her blood now, to rip her apart limb by limb slowly so I wouldn't kill her before my task was complete. I wanted to take her head between my hands and chew off her skinny nose and pummel her in the stomach until she couldn't breathe and was writhing in agony. Already I could sense the connection between us growing, and I knew this wouldn't be the last time we met.
What attracted me to her? Maybe it was her look. She always wore this expressionless face that gave an air of indestructibility. It was this look, I have decided, that called me. I wanted to wipe it off by rubbing her face into the cement and break her beautiful, flawless skin without much effort. I had decided she would not be that hard to break and when it was over I would earn something special for killing off another of my project.
But fate it seems wanted to be difficult that day. She could hear me somehow, amidst all the other footsteps, heart beats and breathing, she could hear me and sense me move towards her. She could pick my scent up on the wind, the smell of my insecurities and my fear of something like her. I could sense nothing from her, not even the slightest amount of fear even though she was much younger than I. She continued to sit completely still until I was within reach of her and I extended my arm, moving for her shoulder.
Her hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed my wrist forcefully. I didn't have time to scream before she promptly broke it, snapping the bones as if they were paper she could simply rip in two without much effort. I bit my teeth and balled my fist, immediately punching for her tender scalp. She dodged it and leapt to her feet, landing smoothly in front of me and absorbed her blow with her stomach, flexing what I discovered to be an unnatural amount of muscle mass to defend herself.
Thus the fight began between us, the two children as we were starting a fight over her emotionless stare, her tightened and rigid composure, and my nerve to act upon it. As usual there was no one to stop us, and although some of the other children wanted to join in, she and I were still moving much too fast to keep up. She was quick and agile, but I beat her with size and power. Her movements were like blurs, but they barely made marks on me. My own covered her with immediate bruises, but she looked like she couldn't feel them either.
We could still be out there if we hadn't knocked each other unconscious. I woke up with a concussion and a broken arm, and she marched out with a tutor to serve what I was told was punishment. But I knew she wasn't serving punishment. She was going to get commended for her battle strategy, most likely a 'treat' of some kind. I knew I had broken one of her ribs at least, but she showed no discomfort. There was no recognition of pain in her eyes.
And that's when I saw the injector gun marks by her ears. And I gave a whimsical smile because I knew that I had at least touched what the government had called an 'Untouchable'.
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Ridder could not have been
more furious with the situation. He
slammed the phone receiver back down and threw it off the desk. It landed on the ground, the cord ripping
from it and the whole object shattering on the hard floor. He screamed with rage, throwing the paper
from the top of his desk against the glass window, wanting it to shatter with
the sound of his voice, yield to his terrible anger. The secretary jumped up from her seat as he
pounded on the desk and causing the solid top to crack with the force he was
applying to it.
He couldn't believe it. He'd not only lost his assassin. No, that wouldn't be fitting enough for David Ridder. He would have to lose Ryan Trent's assassin too just to make sure he would be dead by the time the day ended. He could be forgiven for losing Darcy. Ryan Trent would probably submit him for testing for two months and then send him loose into the world. But Morgan was worth more than Darcy, mainly because she was all human and required no chip to make her valuable. She could probably kill Darcy without much effort.
But the value of losing both was catastrophic. He'd be dead before the day ended, he knew that.
With a scowl on his face he got his cell phone out of the top drawer and called down to Louis.
"Chavelle?" Louis said. Ridder growled.
"Get me a car." He ordered quickly, hanging up. He knew what to do now. He had to get the Agents to hand over both of them now. Knowing them, they most likely moved his property to avoid further detection. He gave a small fragment of a smile over the next part of his plan. He would have to bring them to him, and to do that, he was going to take something that was equally as important to them.
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The night brought rain clouds in slowly from the west that had the sky covered in shadow in less than a moment. The lightning flickered like a dying lamp on the horizon and thunder began to grow in the throat of the storm. John and Monica lay sleeping through it, but Meredith couldn't sleep at all. She lay awake on her bed and closed her eyes every now and then, but was summoned back by the lightning and the booming of the thunder.
Not that she was afraid. She refused to be afraid of noises. But it was irritating to have to try and sleep through something she found to be obnoxious. Shakily she got out the bed, jumped over William in his sleeping bag on the floor and walked out of the room, going downstairs to the kitchen for some coffee.
She trotted down the stairs in her loose pajama pants, the feather boa discarded at the top of the stairs out of inconvenience. Her blonde curls were matted and knotted, and her fingers couldn't slide through them without getting caught. She tossed them over her shoulder and twisted them into a knot, getting into the kitchen only to find the pot of coffee already on.
Dana walked back into the kitchen to check on it, finding Meredith on the counter to get herself a mug. She leapt down, clutching the cup to her chest and set it on the counter.
"Hi Dana." She said, going to the fridge to get the hazelnut Coffee Mate. Dana waved slightly, a small smile on her face as Meredith poured herself a full cup of coffee and added the hazelnut flavour liberally. Once it was to her liking, she put the hazelnut away and took a large sip. Dana just had hers black, and the two sat at the kitchen table saying very little. Meredith made up 90% of the conversation.
"I can't wait till I grow up." She admitted with a wild smile on her face. "I can't wait to get out of this town and go to New York. You know they have the largest theater based community in the United States?"
"I didn't know that."
"Yeah, and I'm going to have my name in light and everyone's going to know about me." Meredith was imagining, Scully could tell by the dreamy look that clouded over her stare and made her look up and at the ceiling. She was actually kind of angelic as her skin was tinted with the blue night time outside and made her whole complexion glow with an unrealistic light.
"What's going to happen to the crazy lady?" She asked. Scully didn't understand. It finally occurred to her and she nodded.
"I don't know." She admitted.
"We could sell her to a third world country." Meredith said. "There are some parents who still do that nowadays."
"Now that I know isn't true."
"Is too! If you're so bad and your parents don't love you anymore they send you away to a sweat shop where you're whipped and told to work and if you don't you're killed."
"Who told you that?" Scully said, in awe at the child's imagination.
"William."
"Well that's not true. Parents just can send their children away to third world countries."
"But they can send animals to scientific testing if they want."
"That's different."
"No it's not!"
"Yes it is. Because of those animals we can find the cures for so many diseases and learn more about the human body than we ever have before." Scully couldn't believe she was getting aggravated with a seven year old. Still, Meredith didn't seem like she was backing down that easily.
"But still how would you feel if you had your vocal cords slashed out and your eyeballs held open so you could watch bad movies?" Meredith said, crossing her arms contentedly with her argument.
"It's different for a human and an animal Meredith." Scully finished off.
"No it's not."
"Yes it is."
"No it's not!"
"Yes. It. IS." Scully said, not realizing she was trying to get the last word in an argument that didn't even matter. Meredith started laughing and giggling, taking another drink of her coffee as Scully held her serious expression a moment more before she too was laughing.
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Darcy watched the sky change from clear to cloudy, the storm moving in slowly and surely, covering the moon from her eyes and the stars from her sight. She pulled her arms around her body as a chill moved up her spine, her mouth frozen in an emotionless line.
The golden cross…
There was a feeling that she had seen it before, that it had touched her skin before. It was in a time and a place when her mind was free, when her thoughts were her own, and she wasn't torn between her own morals and the morals of an alien entity.
"I don't have morals of my own." She thought to herself. "I've always been someone else's…thing."
The smell of the hospital…
That was all that was on her mind. It was mixed with the conscious sounds of Morgan's ragged breathing from the bed.
Darcy looked out the window as the rain started to fall down the glass, drizzling slightly. She sighed deeply and stood up in front of it, knocking through the wooden boards and the glass in one smooth stroke of her fist. Her knuckles started to bleed and sting as the rain hit them, the cuts filled with shards of glass.
The rain water trickled down her arm and started to wash the blood away. She closed her eyes and listened slowly just too every singular drop of rain.
Then her senses prickled. She heard footsteps, and then she heard the click of a door. She could hear someone coming into the house.
And he wasn't invited.
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John could hear screaming from downstairs.
God, not again.
He got up and off the bed so quickly Monica woke up groggily, wiping her eyes.
"John what is it?" She asked him. He was already heading downstairs.
The kitchen was a mess. Scully pushed herself up and pressed a hand to the back of her head as she watched John come in.
"They've taken Meredith." She said. John clenched his fist and pulled his gun from his holster. Now he was really starting to get pissed off.
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Next chapter: John goes on a rampage. It is something no one will want to miss.