None of these characters belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney. It's night time now, lol.
The air was thick with the smell of the end of summer and the dirty rain as Joseph stepped out of his unmarked car. He had wanted to leave immediately when he had worked it out that morning but of course his men had stopped him and perhaps for that, he was grateful. He'd finally managed to sleep and even if it was not as well as he usually would, it was still some energy, energy he knew he'd definitely need for the night ahead. His gun was a heavy burden, but a reassuring one in his holster. His ear piece, tagging from the back of his trousers to his ear was his safety - his link to the men who waited so patiently for reassurance. His men were well hidden in areas near the apartments, waiting for him to tell them it was o.k. - something he dreaded he'd never be able to tell them.
He knew, as he glanced up to the third floor that she was in there, suffering at this persons hands - whoever he was. Her beautiful face enduring his blows, her perfect body enduring his beatings. This was the one and most likely, the only chance he had to save her. He was determined to do it, for her children, her country and most of all….. For himself. He couldn't bare to be without her, been if they had never really been together. She was everything to him and as much as he hated to admit it, he was in some way dependant on her. It appeared, to the outer world that she depended on him but it was so much more than that. He needed to protect her, needed to save her - just as much as she needed him, he needed her.
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Clarisse watched in silent horror as he poured the gasoline onto the couch, the work tops, the TV. anything and everything he felt like. The smell was over powering, so much so she felt sick - the industrial gag over her mouth wasn't helping much either. He smiled a few times, as he drenched everything in it - everything spare her. He stopped eventually, standing in front of the window and surveying the street below as he clutched the rusty metal can in his hand. An almost monstrously evil smile curled at the corners of his lips as he seen something which pleased him immensely.
"how heroic", he sneered, turning to her, " but utterly predictable". She glared at him questioningly, wriggling against the pain that the tight ropes were causing around her cut, friction-burned wrists.
"he's here to save you. How utterly predictable - it's a terrible shame he's never going to get to touch that wonderful body again and the even more amusing thing is - he doesn't know it!", he laughed, picking up his jacket from the chair and pulling cooker matches form the silk lined pocket.
He sniggered as he moved nearer to her, his cold hand coming to rest on the tape on her cut mouth. Her breathing was terribly laboured now, having almost been poisoned by the pungent smell of gasoline and as he whipped it off, she felt the poison and much needed oxygen catch in her chest - suffocating her awfully.
"getting weak", he stated mechanically, roaming over he body with his cold eyes, " interesting - I never thought you'd give in". she glared at him, refusing to cry, refusing to show any emotion but hate. Joseph was here, he had come to help her and suddenly she remembered all she had to live for. Joseph was down below, silently helping her. She had to do something, something to buy time. An idea, the one she hadn't trusted in days swam quickly into her tired brain and in a slick moment of clarity she knew what to do.
"I though I'd take this off", he said, almost business like, " so he could hear you scream in pain as you burned". She turned her head away, remaining silent. Suddenly she screamed, a blood curdling, heart stopping scream. Asesinato jumped in fright, fumbling as he fell backwards - this was something he hadn't bargained for. The matches flew out of his hand, as did his gun and skidded across the oily floor - out of his grasp. Falling, he fell into the glass table cutting his head open on its sharp rim, squirting blood on the virginal white walls.
Joseph looked up to the window as he heard a blood curdling scream, a scream he felt he knew well by now. Throwing himself through the door, he took the steps two at a time - reaching the landing in record speed. He threw himself at the door next to his, too no avail. He tried again and finally it gave way under his almost super natural power - he decided, years later that power had come from who he knew he had to save inside.
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Clarisse tried again, screaming as the door fell in. Joseph stood there, tired but never the less he was there. He didn't rush to her but to the man on the floor who was fumbling for the matches. He shot his leg, disabling him as blood poured onto the floor - mixing with the gasoline, making for a pretty violent sight. Joseph stopped before the man, who seemed helpless to Clarisse now. He was weak, writhing in excruciating pain.
"Xavier", Joseph breathed, maliciously dragging out the name like some spoken poison. It was clear from the disgust on his face, he had never been aware his long lost friend was capable of such evil. The shock, though not apparent to anyone who might have been watching danced in his eyes, very much apparent to Clarisse.
"Joseph", Asesinato answered, his smile curling again at his hateful face.
"how?", Joseph managed. Asesinato didn't answer but once again, reached out his hand to try and grope for the matches. Joseph lifted a boot clad foot and rammed it quickly into his elbow joint. A small crack reached her ears and she winced at it. Never had she seen Joseph so angry or violent. Asesinato however, did not show pain though it doubtlessly was painful enough to merit a scream.
"I wanted you to suffer - much as I have these last years. You ask how, it was simple. If you want something bad enough, like I wanted revenge - you eventually get it", he smiled, his eyes growing dull as blood trickled form his head into them.
"why", Joseph breathed, his foot still pinning him down, " do you want to do this?"
"I wanted the woman…", he chocked, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, " I wanted the woman you love to suffer and for you too see it and for you too know she never knew how much she loved you". Joseph looked down on him, confusing clearly reigning over his face. Some where in time, his once dearest and most noble friend had lost all sense of life, of love, of reality. But something other than confusion reigned over him. He had, only a few days ago loved her silently, something whish he had expected too do until the day he died - this man, his once dear friend had made a terrible mistake. He hadn't realised the love triumphed over everything.
"I knew he loved me", Clarisse whispered weakly, everything suddenly blurry and cold, " I knew that". suddenly she felt sick, cold and heavy. Everything began to swim in front of her and as she passed out she felt everything around her turn immensely warm - she knew that the matches had been lit and whether she'd survive was immaterial now as long as he knew that she knew of his love for her, as long as her children were safe and in the care of Joseph and the palace - she felt safe, suddenly ok. It wasn't that she was overtly desperate to die. She didn't want to - but if it had to happen she was content - more content than she had been in many years. Content in the knowledge he knew, content in the knowledge that he knew her love was returned.
Joseph momentarily took his eyes off Asesinato as Clarisse passed out on the couch, clearly exhausted and in immense pain. Before he knew it, Asesinato had managed to slip under him and get the matches, the place was suddenly alight - scorching everything and anything the orange flames could lick and engulf. He knew, from the rapid burning of everything round him, there wasn't much time.
"you didn't win, Xavier", he chocked, the thick black smoke coating his lungs, " she knew".
With that he shot him and not wasting time to look back and see whether he'd shot him dead or not, he tried to reach her. He was feeling ill now, his head reeling from the poisonous toxins swirling in the enclosed space. She was freezing, even in the sweltering heat of the quickly cindering apartment. Her temperature, her pale, yellowy colour was evidence of what she'd had to endure. Whatever that was, he couldn't bring himself to think about at a moment like that. Instead he holstered her light body over his shoulder quickly, and waving his hand in front of him to try and rid his vision of smoke, stumbled his way, exhaustedly to the door. Tripping over tables and chairs and bookcases that had withered in the immense heat. He fell onto the ceramic tiles of the hallway, cracking his ribs. Her weight, though not that much was getting heavier by the moment and in his confusion, he could barely see in front of himself.
As he made it to the landing, he used the last of his energy to pull the oak door shut. He hoped to god someone below had seen the flames, he didn't want innocent people in the apartments above and below to be burned out of house and home simply because of one monstrous creature.
He could barely stand as the smoke engulfed his senses and accidentally, he dropped her limp body as the last spark of energy left his. He slipped down the wall, eyes quickly closing as his gun rattled along the landing and clinked its way down the flight of stairs. He could feel her breathing on his neck as he fell next to her, but only slightly. His breathing, he could tell was weakening by now, but he didn't care -because she knew he'd tried and she knew how he felt. Everything swam now through his half closed eye lids, never had he been in so much pain - hell, his body felt like hell - but his mind, it was worse, worse than hell. It was tortured, dark and tortured and nothing seemed to help now. It was dark and dull and then everything went black.
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Franz clambered up the smock filled stair wells with ten of his men as frightened residents clambered down, shouting and crying, clutching the little possessions they'd grabbed. Pandemonium reigned around as people flooded onto the main street to watch the spectacular light show, unawares the most important woman in the country was lying on the third floor landing - near dead.
He seen them then, lying inconspicuously on the landing. They looked terrible, the queen bruised and cut and severely battered, Joseph black with thick smoke and cuts. She was breathing, but hardly. He lay by her side, his chest not rising in deep breathing, but in hard gained, short breaths.
Carlo hoisted her up onto his shoulder, cleverly concealing her face. Franz and another man scooped the dead weight of Joseph up, praying to god his stillness was simply from exhaustion.
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Joseph stood in front of the mirror as he spat the blood out. The room, clinically white had hurt his eyes when he'd first woken, but now he had grown accustomed to the sickly, pale whiteness of the bleached room. He had wrenched himself out of the bed and made his way over to the sink. He looked ill, he hadn't shaved in 48 hours, his usually hard and well pronounced chest was purple and yellow with intricately patterned bruises. The trouser bottoms that clung to him sat uneasily, making him look uncomfortable. Yes, he was a weak, bedraggled, confused sight to behold. He could remember little, if nothing at all.
His lungs felt heavy and sore and the oxygen mask by his bed side had been particularly helpful. He hadn't called for a nurse, he wanted to be on his own, to try and remember what had happened. He couldn't recall anything, only the flames, Xavier Asesinato face but after that, he didn't know. Suddenly it hit him with terrific force. Clarisse!
Flying from the mirror, he tore the drip out of his arm and as the blood sprinkled all over the white tiles, he flung open the door. The nurses' at the station startled, turning to him as if he where a mad man.
"sir!", one of the older nurses tried, " can I help?"
"queen Clarisse!", he said, the urgency in his voice more than apparent, " where is she?"
"ward 33, private ward. Now sir you should….", she trailed off as she watched him fly down the corridor, knocking down one of the doctors on his way. hurtling over a tray of medicine in his manic rush to reach the Monarch. It was definitely a puzzling thing that the young boy was flying down the corridors at such speed, after all the young Queen was perfectly stable and in no imminent danger.
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Joseph rammed his way through the swing doors, leaving them swishing behind him rapidly as he came to a halt in front of the nurses station in ward 33. The nurse looked up at her own pace, caring little for his clearly agitated manner. She looked disapprovingly as she did, clucking a little too herself. He could sympathize with her on that point, after all he was standing, his bare chest, his bottoms tied with the little string at the front and hardly shaven - yes he could probably disapprove as well, if he felt the need to.
"can I help you?", she questioned, her nose turning slightly up, " you are aware this ward is for, err, Private patients". He glared at her, this was, in his book, no time for class distinctions or in her case, belittlements.
"and you are aware", he said menacingly, " that I am her Majesty's Head of Security".
"I apologise", she stuttered, more than a little red faced and dropping the notes she had been making in the process.
"let me", he said, slightly mocking her as he bent down to pick them up, " you can lead the way".
" yes her Majesty questioned after you today", she smiled remorsefully, motioning with her had to the doors at the end of the corridor. He smiled slightly at that, more than a little touched that she had asked after him. He remained silent, he felt the nurse was too nosy, prying too much.
"ahh, here it is", she smiled, stopping in front of a door guarded by the royal guard. They smiled at Joe, glad too see him back. He smiled at the nurse, dismissing her silently - she went, but grudgingly.
"hello, Joe", the two guards chorused, " you finally came - she's been ranting after you all day".
"wants to thank you no doubt", Franz piped up as he came into view from the side of the corridor, shaking Joe's hand firmly.
"I can go in?", Joe questioned, impatience only slightly lacing his gravely voice.
"of course", Franz smiled mildly, " she wants her hero". Joseph gave him a disapproving grin as he pushed open the door.
AHAAHAHHAAA, did you think you were getting to see Clarisse in this chapter, sorry! Actually, I didn't do it to be evil, I'm going out with my boy friend now so I decided to cut it here- if I'm up to it, I'll post another chap. Tonight.
Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, you guys are sooooo cool.
Yours,