A poetic journey through my mind

Fiction Relay part (I think) 42

Okies, here we go again…it’s Fiction Relay time once more!  If it seems as if it’s coming to me more often (is anyone complaining?) you’re right, but hopefully only temporarily.  We’ve had a few sad departures, due to increased pressure from that horrible beast known as “Real Life”…and a few are just taking a quick break, but will be back with us shortly.  But never fear, we are keeping the torch passing, keeping the light in the window, and all that sort of thing…so with no further babble, here is part (I think) 42!

Trotting after the three strange ones through the halls of the Club, Jose kept his fingers curled protectively around the tiny leather pouch in his jacket pocket. Feeling the butter-softness of the ancient medicine bag against his rough palm seemed to keep him grounded, keep him walking in beauty amongst the witches.

He knew it was necessary, for him to be here…had known it ever since the touch of the woman’s quick fingers on his wallet had burned through to his skin, cold as the breath of the Mountain itself. He had known that it was time, finally, and he had known pride that his generation would fulfill the promise…but it had taken all his strength not to turn and run, to leave this place and hightail it home, back among the People.

Until yesterday he had believed the stories, of course. As you believed all the stories. Of course they were true. Why would they not be? But true now…in this world…to suddenly be told that you are a messenger, and that your time is -now-…he took a deep breath, fingers once more caressing the tiny bag as they hurried out into the deepening dusk.

Alone again, the man known as Sanderson hopped back up into his favorite position, cross-legged on the marble-slab conference table, looking out into the coming night. As always, when unobserved, he faced the Mountain.

Beneath the layers, shorn of (most) pretence, he was much closer to the young man of Ephraims vision…the craggy cheekbones and deep-set eyes of ice-water blue under that waterfall of white hair gave him a startling resemblance to the Mountain that he tried to keep hidden.

Of course, he liked to believe that the Mountain had come to resemble him in some ways, as well. In order to keep him out, it had needed to let a bit of him in. To become more…flexible, less rigid. And in doing so, although it had taken him an eternity to prepare, to sacrifice…it had become its own undoing.

And now the tools were at hand. And now the first sally had been sent. And soon it would be seen if the arrows he had labored so long to create would make their mark…or break against its stony hide.

Melissa dreamed. And Raj was ready. He had been mustering his “strength” for this little exercise for a while now, and he was finally ready. Carefully, warily, he widened his area of focus, pushing his awareness out into the room around him a bit at a time, until finally “he” stood away from his motionless body. Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the disgusting layer of sweaty-grimy-dirty-slime that was the psychic residue of thousands of weary travelers over the years, and made his way gingerly across the space that separated him from his sleeping target.

Halfway there, he received a rather nasty shock that set him back a bit…the coyote “statue” suddenly turned its glowing eyes in his direction, pinning him in place in a most literal fashion as he felt it heedlessly rummage through “him”. Whatever it was looking for, he must have passed, however, because the eyes dimmed again and the tension was released.

The incident shook him, but nothing would stay Raj from his goal, at this point. He’d been waiting far too long to let some little…totem, guardian, low rank ancestral spirit, whatever…get in his way. Ignoring the sound of quiet snickering, he pushed on until “he” stood staring down at Melissa’s sleeping form.

For a moment he simply stood, telling himself that it was necessary to gather energy before the final push…but knowing that he wanted to savor the moment, his final triumph against the murderous bitch who had tried to stop him. Staring down at her, he reached out an ephemeral “hand”, and traced the lines of her face…from this side, it was easy to see what the waking world could not. To see behind the semi-permanent illusion she wore, to the biggest secret she held.

Although their faces weren’t -exactly- identical…Meagan’s chin had a bit more point, while Melissa’s cheekbones were a touch stronger, for instance…the resemblance was crystal clear, and the relationship undeniable, to those who could see. How had it felt, he wondered, to give that up? To know that your closest relation…the closest relationship it was possible to have…wouldn’t recognize you? Wouldn’t even remember you? Was it worth it, in the end? Was the extra power worth the loss? Was that why she had never changed her name, trying to hold on to even that weak link to her twin? He shrugged, impatiently. Whatever. Time to play.

With a sound half laugh, half snarl, he moved to kneel over her on the bed, phantom hands on either side of her face. At the contact, she moaned, thrashing a bit on the bed, but didn’t wake. Gathering himself…literally…Raj brought his face down until his ephemeral lips touched hers. Her thrashing worsened, but her head was held still…and Raj grinned against her mouth, swallowing her increasingly desperate moans like fine wine. “Time to wake up, little one…wake up, and kiss me goodbye!”

An impatient snarl fell from his lips as her eyelids flickered, but didn’t open. Attempting to strengthen his hold on her, drag her up from her nightmares by brute force if necessary, he was distracted for just long enough. “Bitch! Wake your ass up, little whore! Wake uhhh…”

Gasping desperately for air, Melissa sat straight up in the nasty hotel bed, the remains of the dream still echoing in her mind. Shuddering, she curled into a ball on the cheap sheets, tears pouring down her cheeks, unheeded. Raj had been her first and greatest love…and her worst enemy, so far…but even he hadn’t deserved the fate served to him in her nightmare. The sound of his screams as the pack of wild…dogs? wolves? somethings had torn him apart would likely echo in her mind forever.

After a quick glance to make sure that the not-quite-a-corpse still sat in the lounge chair next to the bed, that its position of slumped, sheet-covered gloom hadn’t shifted…that it wasn’t, in point of fact, torn and shredded, bloody scraps all over the room…she curled into herself, all dignity gone, all restraint lost, and sobbed herself into an uneasy sleep once more.
And on the dresser, the eyes of the statue flickered. The shadows played around its muzzle, giving the impression, almost, of movement…if one were fanciful, one could even imagine it…laughed.

 

Whoops.  Missed an important part of the game…passing the stick.  Here y’go, Dawn!  

 

10 responses

  1. Proper reply to follow when i get back to my laptop. for now… love this chapter and the Raj/Melissa role reversal again. oh yes and explaining why she hasn’t changed her name = genius!!

    September 8, 2013 at 5:53 pm

    • KC

      Heh. Well, thank you…it just occurred to me that it was weird, with everyone else having two…in the beginning it was ok, because it seemed as if she was sort of…to the side…of everyone else, not one of the “power children”, aka Daniel/Sam, Garret/Ephraim, and of course Meagan/Suzi. But at the same time, there was Khalid/Raj/Khalid (*g* I can never remember which came first…) so why not Melissa/? And then with the twins* bit that I’ve been attempting to seed for a while, it just made sense all of a sudden, so in it went. *eg*

      (*I was worried that it was another example of my being arbitrary and controlling, but then I re-read again and I think there are plenty of bits and pieces that could support the idea. Melissa claiming to have saved Meagan, although she doesn’t remember it, all clues to Meagan’s parents (and sister?) being so thoroughly wiped out, even Meagan thinking to herself about the bond between Daniel and herself being “as close as twins” or something of the sort. So maybe I’m not -totally- insane…just pushy. ;p)

      And as for Raj…*insert evil laughter here*…well…I had intended (not pushy to say what -had- been in your head about a scene, I hope?) to slip him into Melissa’s head and have him walking around instead of her, from the point of her resurrecting him…but that never got realized, because much better things happened instead. So, my twisty little brain thought “Well, we ought to at least let him try, and see what happens…” so I started writing that scene in my head…watched the twin-reveal slip in…and then watched…well, what happened. And since -that- is open to interpretation, and in the final run, up to Dawn or successors to decide, not me…I’ll shut mah little mouf and let y’all play, now. *hugs*

      September 8, 2013 at 10:10 pm

      • I’d noticed too that Melissa didnt have an alternative name but if i had acted on that, i would have just given her another one. You approached it in an infinitely more imaginative way, and as usual opened more doors on the personality on one of the characters aswell as giving us all more toys to play with!
        I like hearing the thought processes behind how a chapter is written, it’s interesting to see where the scaffolding was before it was taken away and the publish button was pressed. I like the fact that there is more to Raj than we thought. But don’t be surprised if he gets killed off again when Ted comes back 🙂

        September 13, 2013 at 9:37 am

        • KC

          *lol-and-a-half* As far as I’m concerned he’s well and truly dead right now, ripped to ephemeral shreds in an extremely painful fashion by a pack of spirit coyotes, as a present for Ted…ah-em…but maybe it was just a dream? *grins evilly* Seriously, can’t wait to see what our Dawn does with everything…I try to give the next “guy” lots of fun toys to play with, and I am a huge fan of the concept of “free play”, in a psycho-logical sense. Watching to see what people do with things in the playroom/story can give you fascinating insights into them…specially writers, with their twisty little brainses. *eg*

          September 13, 2013 at 6:10 pm

  2. Nice, KC (as always)! 🙂 I like what you did with Jose, the coyote statue, and Melissa’s dream — excellent loose ends to fuel my imagination. I’m confused by your “Whoops” at the end: what do you think you forgot/left out?

    I like that we have so many different characters to play with. Frequently, I’m only inspired by one person, and only want to explore the story from one POV. We’ll see who speaks to me this time around….

    September 9, 2013 at 8:43 pm

    • KC

      Heh…sorry, the whoops was just that…I had forgotten to “pass the stick”, aka link to you, Dawn. It only looks funny if you didn’t see it without links…I should go take it out again, maybe? *lol*

      September 9, 2013 at 10:41 pm

  3. Pingback: Fiction Relay — Part 43 | The Mouse's Soapbox

  4. [hanging head in shame for being in my shell so long]
    ack! I messed up your Raj plans didn’t I? 😉
    I love love lovedy love this whole thing [my ability to express myself is still in the shell but i’m yanking that bitch out of there, i’m sick of this funking funk]
    off to read the next chapter, I have so much to catch up on and many words to come your way my little purr-bot ❤ hugs and pounces and much gratitude to each and every Relayer and since Ted was mentioned up there ^, I have comments to answer [as soon as I get this hairshirt off my back and stop flogging myself in the name of guilt over not being on top of things]

    Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!

    September 23, 2013 at 8:17 pm

    • KC

      *lol, hugs* Can’t mess up something in the FR universe, sillyhead! It’s all about the right now of each chapter, and the best part, at least for me, is seeing just how far “off-field” things get by the time it’s back to me. I’m the one who has “messed up” peoples stories the most…poor Ted. He really wanted to kill Raj, and there I went, bringing him back. True, in a sorta questionable condition, but still. *eg*

      As for hairshirts…I don’t remember you asking to borrow that. It’s part of my favorite outfit…the itchy wool skirt, two sizes too small spike heels, and of course the 3lb. weight earrings. *giggles*

      Seriously, don’t take much of this seriously. True, but not serious, especially because it’s filtered through a nice (although currently useless >.<) Dilaudid and Zanax cocktail. *glares at leg*

      By the way, to all the FR's…and anyone else who reads this comment thread…I have a question. Would anyone like to hear the story of how I came to have a hole in my right leg that you could lose half a D-cell battery in? Or would that be yucky and uninteresting and just plain gross? *hugs* Just let me know. I'll likely ask again on the main page…mebbe I'll do a little survey thingie…I've never done that.

      Oh, and Joanne-my-twin…*hugs so tight you can't breathe for a second* No more hairshirt, and just realize that the black hole is just as much a sick as the invisible diseases we both have, and needs the same sort of things. For medicine, someone to talk to, who can understand. For self-care…well, first of all stop beating yourself up for beating yourself up, and allow yourself to have an off day, week, month…however long it takes. Ok? Love you, twin!

      KC

      September 23, 2013 at 10:16 pm

  5. Pingback: Fiction Relay – Part 45 | joannebest

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