Ginger Katt: Psh, she's just stressed. She's seen two people die, one of them twice O_o I'd be on edge if that happened to me too.
Oh im bored: Thanks :) Villa. So exciting.
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-Dead Survivor, for adding this story to their favourites
-and Ginger Katt, for adding this story to their favourites
Thanks :D
No matter how much you think you love somebody, you'll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close.
-Chuck Palahniuk
Desmond was going to kill someone if he heard the word recalculating again. They'd been driving for about five minutes, and every time they went somewhere the GPS didn't want them to go, it announced in a loud, robotic voice that it was changing their route. Finally Desmond just reached out and unplugged the thing from the van's power.
After what felt like years, the two Assassins reached Monteriggioni again. Lucy turned off the truck almost immediately and hurried toward the Villa. Desmond followed slower, still limping.
When he finally caught up, Desmond found Lucy jiggling the handle of the door closest to the entrance to the Sanctuary. Looking at that entrance, the yawning dark tunnel, he felt a stab of nostalgia, even though he'd only been gone for less than half an hour. They'd never be back after this.
So cry three tears for me
"Told you it was locked," Desmond muttered, leaning against the wall.
"No, this isn't good enough for me. Why would the lights tell you to come here if all the doors were locked?
"It doesn't make sense," Lucy grunted, shoving her shoulder against the wood.
"Curiosity killed the cat," Desmond said under his breath, then moved forward to try and help.
Lucy took a step back and kicked at the door. It didn't budge.
"Come on Lucy, let's just go and-"
"No," she hissed, kicking the door again. "This can't be right! These doors should have fallen apart years ago..."
"That's what I thought too," Desmond piped up. "I didn't know why there wouldn't be a way in..." He trailed off, realizing something.
"I get it now!" he exclaimed. Lucy looked over at him quizzically.
"The way in wasn't the door," Desmond explained, pointing to the front entrance. "Well, at least not the door we thought it was." He hurried toward the front entrance, which had been blasted by cannon fire five hundred years ago, Lucy following.
"Why would someone go to all the trouble of replacing the doors that didn't need replacing and not repair the main one?" He stopped in front of the entrance. The balcony from the second floor had collapsed in on the door, but there was still a small gap. It was completely dark.
"Because they have something to hide!" Lucy finished. "There must be something back there."
"Could you fit through that hole?" Desmond asked hurriedly, becoming more aware of the brightening sky every minute.
Lucy nodded. "I think so." She worked her way into the darkness until, at last, her heeled shoes disappeared into the hole.
"How dark is it in there?" Desmond called loudly.
"Not bad," came the muffled reply. "I've got my light; I should be fine."
"All right, now see if you can get around to unlock a door."
"Got it."
Desmond waited nervously, pacing in front of the caved-in entrance, for Lucy to reappear. Eventually, his imagination got the best of him, and he kept thinking up more and more extravagant ways she could've wound up killing herself in the darkness. The roof caving in, breaking all her bones and crushing her skull, popping it like a grape; some wild animal had got in and was now tearing her to bits; something of the lights doing, maybe another hallucination, and she ripped out her own eyes from madness and was now wandering blindly around the halls.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Desmond jumped and spun around, blade out and ready to stab anyone near—
It was Lucy. Of course it was Lucy. Desmond relaxed and retracted his blade, rolling his neck.
"Damn. You scared me."
Lucy scoffed and turned around, leading the way to the now-open door. Desmond entered the Villa warily, following the Lucy's light.
Mario's office was in shambles. His desk was tipped onto its side, papers scattered all around it, and the Codex wall was ripped, several of the pages missing.
"There's nothing in here," he whispered. "Let's just-"
"Desmond! Use your Eagle Vision!" Lucy was standing near the Codex wall, an excited expression on her face. "You'll be able to see what's under these pages!"
Desmond shrugged. Worth a shot. He switched to Eagle Vision, scanning the entire wall. There was nothing under the pages, no secret message written on the wall.
Switching back to normal vision, Desmond shook his head. "No, Lucy, there's nothing in here. There's nothing in this entire building! It was all a lie."
"No, Desmond, you're wrong! You can't know there's nothing in here just by looking at one room!" Lucy strode out the door and Desmond was forced to follow for fear of the darkness.
They quickly passed through the room where Claudia had once sat. There wasn't a whole lot left in the room; the desk was gone, the bookshelves stripped of their contents, and the once-proud model of Monteriggioni had collapsed in on itself, creating a pile of rubble. Desmond wished he'd brought a flashlight.
In the main entrance, Lucy's light did little to penetrate the darkness, only illuminating a six-foot square area. Desmond kept jumping at shadows thrown by Lucy's movement, convinced that something was going to leap out at them.
"Lucy, let's just go, I-"
"Stop being such a pussy," Lucy hissed over her shoulder. Desmond was shocked; he'd never heard so much venom in Lucy's voice, and had never ever heard her say pussy. He stared at the floor for a few seconds, embarrassed, then started when he saw what he was looking at.
"Lucy!" he exclaimed.
"We're not fucking leaving Desmond, so stop complaining and get your ass over-"
"No! Come look!" Desmond heard the rapid sound of Lucy's heels as she strode closer, then her sharp intake of air when she saw the floor.
The cracked marble tiles had been smeared with black ink, spelling out one word: Firenze.
"Florence?" Lucy spoke first. "Why Florence?"
"His name isn't Ezio Auditore da Firenze for nothing," Desmond replied, spelling it out like he was talking to a six-year-old. "He probably hid it somewhere from his childhood."
Lucy rolled her eyes. "No shit, Sherlock. What I'm wondering is why the lights are telling us the Apple's in Florence. Why help us?"
"Does it matter?" Desmond straightened up. "We know where it is now." He began walking toward the exit, knowing his way.
"Okay, first of all, what makes you think any of this is the truth?" Lucy hurried to catch up. "They could tell us anything and we'd believe them."
"Exactly," Desmond grunted. "We'd go wherever they said, so we're going."
"That's a shitty reason. And second of all, even if we did go, who knows where it'd be? Florence isn't exactly a tiny city."
Desmond stepped out into the open air. "We'd have to try. Besides, would you rather go to Canada? You know, living in igloos and riding polar bears?"
Lucy laughed lightly as she followed him. "Right now, it's probably sixty degrees in southern Canada—not nearly cold enough for an igloo. Good try though." She smirked as she walked quickly past him. "Yeah, we're going to Florence."
Back on the road. Lucy had plugged in the GPS and figured out it would only take them an hour to drive to Florence. Desmond sat in the passenger seat and stared out the window, wondering how long it would've taken to ride a horse to Florence.
The gas light started blinking as the van entered Florence.
Lucy huffed. "Why now? We don't have a lot of time to look for this Apple you claim to be here."
Desmond said nothing and instead sank lower in his seat, glaring out the window, annoyed by how much of a hypocrite Lucy was being.
Burning so good,
When it's all gone
They pulled into a deserted gas station with a yellow-and-white overhang. A homeless man was sitting by the entrance. He jumped to his feet when he saw the truck pull in, an eager look on his dirt-dusted face. Desmond hoped he wouldn't go near them; he didn't know how much more annoyances he could handle.
Lucy pulled up the truck next to a diesel pump and Desmond, eager to stretch his legs, opened his door immediately, lowering himself down onto the concrete. He moved to the driver's side and leaned against the left side of the box; he didn't want to be alone on the passenger side, especially with that hobo eyeballing him.
"Fuck, it's so expensive here," Lucy grumbled. "One and a half euros per litre."
Desmond had no idea what that meant; all he knew was the good old American gas prices of dollars and gallons. So he just hmmed and turned his head away, examining the city.
Suddenly, the homeless man popped out from behind the truck, a small, toothy grin on his face. Holding out a hand, he asked, "Monete? I soldi di ricambio?(1)" While asking this, he moved closer until he was an arm's length away and Desmond could smell him.
"Um... no," Desmond stammered, taken by surprise, then quickly switched to Italian. "Niente soldi. Lasciarci in pace, per favore.(2)"
The hobo moved even closer. Desmond could smell his breath now. "Per favore, signore, la mia familgia è molto affamato ed è quasi inverno, loro saranno molto freddo-(3)"
I cannot stand who I am
"Ho detto di no!(4)" Desmond snarled. "Ora va' via!(5)" He thrust out his left hand to shove away the homeless man, then turned back to Lucy, a scowl on his face. The blonde had been watching the whole exchange with raised eyebrows and a light smile as she filled up the tank, but as soon as Desmond made contact with the homeless man, her expression changed to shock—and horror.
"Desmond... What did you just do?" she gasped, eyes fixed behind him.
"I pushed him... He was being annoying." Desmond shrugged. Lucy was still staring at him. "What?" he demanded, turning around.
The homeless man was clutching at his throat, eyes wide. Blood welled up from under his hands. Slowly, Desmond looked down at his left hand. The hidden blade was out of its sheath, dyed red up to the hilt. The blood had sprayed from the hobo's neck as Desmond turned, creating a red swipe across the Assassin's back.
I'm this man with this blood on my hands
"Oh shit," Desmond croaked as the man fell to his knees then forward, soaking the pavement with blood.
The attendant inside the gas station, a middle-aged, balding man, came out of the door with a confused look on his face. "Cosa stai facendo? È sangue, quello?(6)"
"Time to go," Desmod hissed, jerking the hose out of the truck, then hurried back to the passenger side, quickly getting into the cab. Lucy followed suit, hurriedly starting the van and peeling out of the gas station. Desmond could hear the attendant yelling after them.
"Mio Dio... è morto! Aiuto! Centodiciotto!(7)"
In this blood I am damned
"Now what?" Lucy screamed as they sped away from the yelling. She was leaning forward, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
"We get the fuck out of here," Desmond hissed, grabbing on to the dashboard as the truck made a sharp turn. "Keep driving until we're as far away from this city as possible."
1 - Coins? Money to spare?
2 - No money. Leave us alone, please.
3 - Please, sir, my family is very hungry and it's almost winter, they will be very cold-
4 - I said no!
5 - Now go away!
6 - What are you doing? Is that blood?
7 - My God... he's dead! Help! One-one-eight! (The Italian equivalent of 9-1-1 :3)
SO. MUCH. ITALIAN.
Bleh, I feel like Lucy is either really OOC or she has bi-polar disorder :3
Gotta love bashing your own country 8D
One last thing: I dunno if my Villa layout is right, or if there's even a hole big enough for Lucy to get through in the front entrance. I didn't feel like getting up and turning on le Xbox; I just went by memory :3 So just pretend it's like that, and if not, feel free to correct me.