Author's Note:Hello, my lovely readers, and welcome back! I bet you didn't expect to hear back from me that soon!
Many thanks for everyone who read and/or kudosed, you made my day!
Perhaps you remember that I was stuck on two scenes. Here is the first one, in the making for four years. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer owns all the characters from Artemis Fowl, I only own my imagination and the characters I have created. Like Sofia Massetti and Dmitri Butler. Dima belongs to me. Sofia too.
Chapter 3
Sofia flopped onto the bed in her brother's beat-up old shirt and shorts, which had definitely seen better days. If she'd known she'd be sleeping under the same roof as Butler, her pyjama selection would've been very different. No matter, she thought with a disapointed sigh, he just wouldn't get to see her in this abomination.
Turning to her notes, she squinted at her handwriting. She had managed to get a pretty good idea of the contents of the scroll. It was some kind of praise to a deity. Their name came up over and over again. It was the same series of squiggles and lines, but she couldn't decipher it for the life of her. Every time she thought she'd figured the single syllables out, she lost it, like the grip on a particular slippery fish.
"Nyi? Nya?"
Sofia reached for the bedside table lamp to turn off the lights with a sigh. She saw the girl then.
Frozen in the movement, she stared at the little creature standing in the dark corner of the room. The girl stared back. Sofia swallowed. Were her eyes really that black and shiny?
The girl stepped forward.
"Hi," she said, her voice wrapping around Sofia's heart like sickly sweet honey. Sofia relaxed.
"Hi, what are... is your name?"
She forgot what she initially wanted to ask. It wasn't the girl's name, though.
"My name is Liliana. And you're Sofia. You've been reading the master's scroll."
Sofia nodded in wonder. That was true. What a clever girl.
"Do you want to play with me?" Liliana asked. She lifted a doll that looked like the split image of the girl. "This is my doll. My daddy gave it to me on the day I met the master. Meet him."
Again, Sofia nodded, getting out of bed and following Liliana to the room's door. Liliana reached for the doorknob and, after giving Sofia a smile, opened the door to a galaxy full of stars.
Sofia's eyes opened wide.
"How... where?"
Liliana giggled and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the starlit heaven. "It's the stars. Do you want to see the stars?"
Sofia's heart raced as she gazed at the sight before her. She had never seen anything like it in her entire life. A staircase of stars stretched before her, each step shimmering with silver light, dissolving into dust the moment her foot left it. The vastness of the cosmos surrounded her, endless and weightless, yet she felt no fear—only wonder. Her breath caught as she climbed higher, the constellations swirling around her like a living tapestry. She reached out, fingertips grazing the glow of a distant nebula, her mind struggling to grasp the sheer, breathtaking impossibility of it all.
Then she remembered something the girl had said, something about a—
"The master?"
"Yes, he is keen to meet you. Come."
Sofia reached the end of the staircase and stepped onto a street made of stars. They jingled funnily at every one of her steps. Laughing carefree, Sofia did a small dance.
"This is incredible," Sofia said, scooping a handful of stars and threw them over her head. She needed to show this to Butler. Turning to Liliana, she stopped.
A note of discord slipped into the melody of the stars.
Sofia hesitated, the joy still lingering on her lips, but something inside her tensed. She paused, frowning. Had she imagined that? A single offbeat beneath the chiming harmony?
Then the sound came again, sharper this time, and the warmth of the stars against her skin cooled. The soft jingles wavered, their melody thinning.
Sofia swallowed. A low, distant tremor ran beneath her feet. She shifted her weight, and the movement sent another ripple through the stardust. This time, the sound that followed was wrong.
The stars clashed against each other, their tinkling voices warping into something jagged. The music of the cosmos twisted and fractured, becoming a discordant symphony that scraped against her ears.
Then came the wailing.
It was high and keening, a chorus of anguish all around her. The stars weren't singing. They were screaming.
Sofia's breath hitched. Her heart pounded against her ribs. And then she felt it. A presence. It was there. Close, too close.
The air around her thickened, pressing in like unseen hands. A slow, creeping weight settled on her chest, making each breath harder to draw.
The stars beneath her feet flickered. Their light, once steady, now pulsed erratically, as if something unseen was passing over them. Shadows slithered at the edges of her vision, shifting where there should have been nothing but endless space.
A chill brushed the nape of her neck. Something was watching her.
Her breath came in short, frantic gasps. Don't look. Don't look. The feeling of unseen eyes burrowed into her skin. The weight around her chest tightened. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She clenched her eyes shut so tightly that sparks of colour burst behind her lids, but she didn't dare open them. She couldn't.
A voice, or maybe just a feeling, slithered through her mind.
"Look at me."
A shiver rolled down her spine. No. No, she wouldn't. The presence shifted, circling her like a predator waiting for its moment. The air whispered against her skin, soft as a breath at her ear.
"Just open your eyes, Sofia. It's easier that way."
Her fingers curled into fists. If she opened them, if she saw it—she knew something terrible would happen. A cold sensation, featherlight, brushed against her cheek. Not quite a touch, but a promise.
"Look!"
She flinched. Her resolve wavered. The entity waited. Sofia's hand shot to the golden cross hanging around her neck. "Ave, o Maria, piena di grazia."
The entity chuckled, low and amused. "Do you think your God will protect you?"
A tendril of light—so bright, she could see it behind closed lids—ripped the necklace from her throat. The chain snapped. The cross was gone.
Sofia gasped. "Il Signore è con te."
Her voice trembled, but she held on, gripping the empty space where the necklace had been.
The presence shifted, coiling around her, thick as mist, pressing in.
"Tu sei benedetta fra le donne."
Something in the air twitched. The pressure against her chest stuttered, as if the entity had flinched.
A long, breathy exhale, too close to her ear.
Her stomach twisted, but she forced the words out. "E benedetto è il frutto del tuo seno, Gesù."
The stars wailed. The presence shivered.
Sofia clenched her teeth. "Santa Maria, Madre di Dio."
The weight around her pulled back. Not gone, not entirely—but it had loosened its grip. She could breathe again. Her hands trembled as she pressed them together, knuckles white.
"Prega per noi peccatori, adesso e nell'ora della nostra morte."
The air rippled, the shadows curling back into themselves, retreating to the edges of her awareness. But they were still there. Watching. Waiting.
Sofia swallowed hard. "Amen."
The silence that followed wasn't empty, but it gave Sofia enough courage to crack open an eye. She reached for Liliana. The girl must've been terrified. But it wasn't Liliana anymore.
Instead, a creature was holding on to her hand, its spindly fingers wrapped around her wrist, sharp thorns digging into her skin. And then it jerked her forward and off the street, littered with stars.
Butler left his bedroom, his empty water glass in hand. He had woken up after a short nap, his mouth bone dry, and unable to fall back asleep. Knowing that Sofia was just a few doors down the hall didn't help either. He suspected something else, lurking in the depths of his subconscious, keeping him awake, but he couldn't quite place it. He could resolve one issue, though.
Opening the fridge, he pulled out one of the ice-cold water bottles. He filled his glass, drinking the water in large gulps. It froze him from the inside, settling in his middle. Refilling his glass once more, he slowed down. The temperature would have dropped to a pleasant level by now. He'd watch the city lights for a while, he decided, and stepped into the living room.
Butler froze when he noticed the figure, standing on the railing, perfectly still. An assassin! But that was impossible. Dima's security system was impeccable. How would an assassin breach it? Butler squinted his eyes. It looked as if they were wearing shorts. Odd. The assassin was also petite. A woman, perhaps. Then a breeze made their wild hair dance in the wind, and his eyes widened.
His legs were moving even before his brain had completely processed what was going on. He registered his water glass shattering somewhere behind him as he stormed onto the balcony, grabbing Sofia's arm the moment she swayed forward.
He yanked her back, wrapping his other arm around her waist as she tumbled over the railing with a gasp.
"Have you completely lost your mind?" he rumbled, pulling her against his chest.
She jolted, her whole body tensing as if waking up for the first time. Then she thrashed, panic wild in her eyes.
"No—no, let me go!" Her voice was raw, frantic, like she wasn't entirely here.
Butler grunted as she twisted in his grasp, her fingernails digging into his arm.
"Sofia, stop," he ordered, but she fought harder, arms flailing, legs kicking.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, the fight drained out of her. She sagged against him, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
Butler held her an arm's length away, studying her face in the faint moonlight. She wasn't even looking at him. Instead, she was staring straight ahead, eyes unfocused, gulping for air and shaking like a leaf. Butler recognised the signs of shock in an instant.
His grip softened, hands moving to her arms. "You're okay," he murmured, rubbing warmth back into her skin. "You're awake now."
Her eyes darted at him like a cornered animal.
Was it true then? Never wake a sleepwalking person? Now he felt like an idiot, waking her when he had thought... well, he hadn't. And now he had to stop her from having a heart attack, because he had terrified her.
"Keep breathing for me," he said, taking her hands into his and warming them. "You're doing great. All is well."
He carried her inside, settling them on the couch and pulling one of the soft cashmeres over them. He kept rubbing her hands and arms and exposed leg, all the while talking to her in a low voice.
"Just like that, milochka. It was just a dream."
Sofia swallowed hard. "It wasn't just a dream," she said in a whisper. "I was there. I heard them. Their screams. The girl."
Butler exhaled through his nose. "It felt real," he allowed. "But it was a dream."
She shook her head, gripping his wrist. "No. You don't understand. It was real." Her fingers tightened like she was afraid he'd pull away. "I remember things—before I fell. When I looked down." Her breath hitched. "I wasn't just dreaming that."
Butler's jaw flexed. He could still feel the tremors running through her, the terror clinging to her skin like a second layer. He didn't know what to do with that.
"Sofia," he started carefully, but she let out a frustrated breath, pulling back.
"You don't believe me."
He sighed. "I believe you think it was real."
"Forget it," she mumbled, her expression shuttered, and she looked away.
Butler ran a hand down his face. "Milochka..." He softened his grip, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand.
She was quiet for a long time before she took a shaky breath.
"I was on the balcony. I could've—Foolish."
"Nonsense," Butler cut in before he smiled. "This ranks not even in the top 10 of most foolish things you could've done."
Sofia stilled, lifting her head to give him a pointed look. "What would you know about foolish?"
"I've been young once."
Sofia snorted, some of her spunk returning. "Tell me more, grandpa."
Butler chuckled. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"
Sofia nodded.
"When I was stationed in Colombia one of my comrades was Johann from... Hamburg, I think. He was very decent. Funny, too. For a German."
Sofia smiled against his shoulder.
"And way too happy for this line of work. You could wake him in the middle of the night for a 20-mile run through the jungle, and he'd sit up saying something weird like 'What a day to be alive, ja?'"
Sofia chuckled at his German accent.
"He was so much more mature than any of us. He had hardly turned 20, but he had his whole life planned out. He had a girlfriend, back home, and they had—," his voice broke.
Sofia uncrossed her arms, covering his hand with hers.
Butler took a breath. "This is a really long time ago," he said, surprised by his own outburst.
"You miss him," Sofia whispered.
"Not anymore," he said, shaking his head. "His girlfriend wanted to open a cafe, and he kept boasting about how he would wait tables once he had made it to Lieutenant General."
Butler snorted. "Half of what he said was just plain rubbish. One day, we were ambushed, and this idiot threw himself in front of me."
He stopped, his voice faltering. "He got shot. But when I checked, he was still alive. The trek back to camp was—what?—five miles? Shouldn't have taken more than half an hour."
A pause. A sharp breath.
"If he had held on just a little longer—If I had been faster."
Butler shook his head again. Johann's blank look flashing in front of his eyes.
"What happened then?"
"Instead of mourning my comrade, I thought I could just forget this whole thing ever happened," he said with a sigh. "I went to the next dive and got completely wasted."
"You said you didn't drink."
He tapped the tip of her nose. "Not anymore."
"And then?"
"I blacked out. Woke up behind the dumpsters and was violently sick. I wished I was dead. I passed out again at some point. In my puke. "
"How did you get back to your," she paused, "how do you say caserma... barracks?"
"My comrades found me just before curfew. Didn't even say anything, although they had every right to do so. Just got me lucid enough to pass the nightly roll call."
He leaned his head back on the headrest, closing his eyes against the raw emotions that bubbled up once more. He couldn't stop the tear from running down his cheek. Sofia's cool fingers brushed it away. So tenderly that it made his heart ache.
"It should've been me," he said, not caring that his voice shook. "He had a reason to live, all I ever—"
Sofia wrapped an arm around his neck.
"Don't say that," she said. "Don't ever say that again, stupido."
He buried his nose in her hair, unable to stop himself from smelling the peaches. It was tempting to simply let go. And so easy, too. The little Italian farm with the peach trees in the garden.
"You like me," he mumbled. "That doesn't count."
"Fine, I don't like you anymore. Happy now?" she said, making him laugh. He tightened his arms around her, pulling her a little closer.
Her breath was light against his neck, and he couldn't help but notice how perfectly she fit against him. He stayed there for a moment, listening to her steady breathing, a smile tugging at his lips. Tentatively, he stroked her hair, the strands soft against his calloused hands.
His memories travelled back to Johann. The way he used to sit on his cot, always a piece of paper in his hand. Countless letters spread out in front of him.
Butler stopped in front of him one day, snatching a letter from his cot, scanning its foreign words.
'Lieber Johann—'
"What do you keep writing about?" he asked, a frown on his forehead.
Johann smiled mysteriously. "Everything. I want to share everything with Sarah."
Butler frowned. "Why?"
His comrade shrugged. "This way, it's as if she is here with me."
"That's an awful lot of trouble to get into her pants."
Johann shot him a sharp look. "That's my future wife you're talking about."
Then his mouth relaxed, and he grinned. "Don't worry, once you meet your Mädchen, you'll understand."
"Mädchen," Dom repeated, enjoying the sound of his first German word.
"Mein Mädchen," Butler said with a smile, his lips brushing against Sofia's forehead. She was fast asleep. He stood silently, carrying her to bed.
Translations:
Italian
Ave, o Maria, piena di grazia… - Hail Mary prayer
Russian
Milochka – honey
German
Mein Mädchen – my girl
A/N: So,... that's it. My first attempts at Cosmic Horror, and probably my last after this story is finished. If I had known how hard it is, I wouldn't have done it, believe you me! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! The scene in the living room also turned out differently than I had anticipated. Which isn't bad, I actually enjoy it when the characters surprise me and do something that I hadn't seen coming. Not like I had a plan or anything…
Comments and kudos are always appreciated, but of course, if you kept on reading that would make me even happier!
Take care and read you next time.