Ariadne and the Flaming Torch : The Quest
Chapter 4
Book 1 : The Quest
Chapter 4
________
The first time I killed someone was when I was seven. The day still haunts me. I still see that little boy's eyes every time I go to sleep. The way he had looked at me with those innocent blue orbs; I'll never forget it. Today was one of those days - the days his eyes haunt me.
I had been an irritable child. I'd scream at every damn thing and would be a pain in the ass when I didn't get things I wanted; I was a typical Barbie thumping mini bitch. Not to mention the fact that I was almost anorexic back then - I gotten mad whenever someone called me fat and so had stopped eating altogether; my mom had coddled me from the very beginning and had fed me and spoiled me until I had become a hundred pound seven year old. I was jealous of the fact that all the other little girls - the other Barbie thumpers, you know, the ones with the blond pigtails and blue bug eyes - were thin beyond compare and looked so pretty - I was young and had a questionable choice in attire; still haunts me to think of those days - in their short pink dresses and black Mary Jane.
I was fat; nothing more and definitely nothing less. And I was constantly reminded of that fact by the Barbie-mate-Ken in our neighborhood. He was the typical all American kid - blonde hair, blue eyes, cute dimples, freckles - the whole shit load. All the other girls had cute little crushes on him and he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the attention; in fact he thrived on it. And him being a boy of negative IQ, he thought the chubby girl should worship him.
I remember perfectly what he said to me when he got to know that I didn't have an ass-backwards, head over heels in love, crush on him. He had said, in that nasally - in my opinion - voice, "Well, fat girls like you don't deserve to love someone".
That had hurt, of course it had! I was a little oblivious kid who was loved by her family and told over and over again that she was beautiful and not fat. My whole world had come crashing down on me when he said that and I was almost in tears. I had run back to my momma, crying to her about how mean the Thompson boy was and that he had called me fat. My momma had reassured me, saying that I was beautiful but I had known better. That was when the anorexia had begun - nothing major at first; a few meals lost here and there, a little less food than usual.
I had grown thinner but hadn't yet come at the point of anorexia until that faithful day. I was the same size as all the other girls by that time and was walking around in a light blue dress, smiling smugly and humming "Mary had a Little Lamb" to me. That was when the naive little boy had come out with his band of mindless little girls and sneered at me, telling me that was I a fake and didn't deserve a pretty dress like that. The girls had pulled, or rather ripped, the butterfly pin my momma had lovingly put in my hair and had crushed it under their feet after throwing it on the ground. I had screamed and lunged for them but it wasn't an even fight. It was one against seven.
In the end I got beat up - naturally - and when the boy had come up to me and said that I deserved all of that just because I was once fat, I lost it. I had screamed at him and clawed his face. I had thrown him on the ground, while all the other future cheerleaders had screamed and gone crying to fetch their mothers. I had looked at Jonah Thompson with hate-filled eyes and screamed, "Go to Hell!"
Little did I know that that was exactly what he was going to do. The wind had picked up and suddenly it had felt like there was a small hurricane surrounding us . Heat had come down on us; blistering, white hot heat - of course, I wasn't effected by it; I had always loved fire. But the same couldn't be said for Jonah. He had screamed under the painful fire that was slowly licking up his body in proverbial flames, while voices had surrounded us.
A cacophony of words had flooded my mind. Tortured voices, lost souls, unfulfilled wishes; a lamentation of pain and sorrow had engulfed me while I had watched in terror as daemonic beings reigned down from the heavens above. The sky had been shrouded by black, menacing clouds which flashed with thunder and cracked with lightning as the couple ascended.
Black, leathery wings stretched to an almost painful breaking point, disfigured faces which were strangely pointed, thin, skeletal bodies sheathed with leather like skin again stretched to breaking point, bat ears and a mouth filled with row after row of sharp, pointed, glistening teeth, the daemons ascended, a frightening aura leaking from them which seemed to shroud the world itself in darkness. Their faces painted with frightening smiles of terror and evil, they slowly descended and landed right beside the little boy screaming in pain. At the sight of his pain, their grin widened, which I didn’t think was possible, and they spoke with a terrible voice; it was a screech of terror and seemed like the epitome of evil to me.
“As you wish, Mistress.” the first disgusting creature had said.
“Your wish is our command.” the other had continued.
And together with their pinched arms, they had lifted the boy who had been twisting in terror and ascended into flight. The sight of their wings stretched to their full and magnificent extent was a sight that had amazed me and repulsed me for I had known what would happen next. Together they each carried one arm of the boy and lifted him into the air, his entire body dangling, with apparently not the slightest amount of effort.
I had watched as they reached the height of their flight and seemingly disappeared into a flash of lighting, their frightening screech cloaked by the crack of thunder. With the hard downpour of rain and the occasional flashes of lightning, I had been sure that any innocent by-standers who had been unfortunate enough to behold the terrible sight, had banished it as a lapse of judgment and sanity.
I had gotten my wish. Jonah Thompson had been taken to hell by, at the time unknown to me, Furies. At first I had thought myself delusional. I had run home, crying to momma about how crazy I was. When my momma had asked me what was wrong, I had blubbered out the entire story to her. I had been expecting, had been hoping, for my momma to tell me it was all a nightmare and I was indeed, crazy. But her reaction had shocked me. Instead of the loving smile she always had on her face every time I talked to her about something, her face was growing whiter with every word I uttered.
When I had finished telling her my crazy story, she had almost looked dead! Her face was so pale; it was as pale as the lilies she loved so much. She had looked down at me with terror written across her face and had picked me up and rushed up the stairs. She had locked the door before she left and told me to not open it, no matter what. I had done what she had told me to do. I had kept the door locked and had waited, unaware of the turmoil brewing downstairs. I now regret that decision.
That was the day my mother had died - how she died, to his day, I have no idea. It was the day I had killed someone. It was the day the attacks had started. It was also the day I had met Repeat, the faerie.
I had waited in my room, unaware of the pixie slowly closing in on me, her hands armed with needle containing a poison deadly enough to kill. I had remained unaware until I had heard the unmistakable sound of a war cry from behind me. I had been stunned at the aspect of such a tiny creature existing, that too with wings! I had watched like a mentally retarded person as the pixie charged at me with a needle in its hand.
Then, suddenly, there had been another figure beside me; it had been a beautiful little girl, probably my age, with flaming red hair - I had never seen someone possessing hair such a violent shade of red - and a pale, porcelain face - how, I envied her skin - and captivating golden eyes. But that was all an afterthought compared to the beautifully ethereal and translucent wings on her back, a shade between gold and red. With her full, pink lips twisted into a scowl, she had swatted the pixie away with her hand as if it were nothing more that an irritable fly!
She had turned to me, her lips still twisted and eyes burning with envy - how she could be envious of me, I had no idea - and I had waited eagerly for her to say something nice to me so that I could thank her. However my luck was not so good. She had said, “Are you stupid or retarded? You could have gotten yourself killed!”
I had stared at her dumbfounded while she shook her head and sighed. She had taken my hand and she has, till now, never let go.
So, naturally as I talked with Replay on the phone, I was irritated but would still do anything for her, even if it meant the hassle of changing dimensions. She hadn’t let me go in my time of need, and neither would I.
So, that brings me back to the situation at hand - inter-dimensional traveling. It is a hassle and then some; a hassle I am about to take for Repeat. I sighed and walked through the glowing door with Solis trailing behind me - he won’t leave me alone after the Soul Reaper incident. He even followed me to the bedroom; talk about embarrassing!
The world of the faeries is really a sight to behold - it’s almost like Las Vegas, only more other-worldly and magical. Bright golden and red florescent lights of floating energy adorned every corner of the medieval roads, giving an effect of cheerful abandonment to whoever beheld the sight. The modern, buildings of abstract designs were a complete contradiction to the older roads on which they stood, but it provided a nice effect. A cheerful atmosphere seemed to hang around the city. Loud, booming music came from the various clubs scattered around the robust town, seriously disturbing my hearing process. You have got to love the Faerie World - that sounds like some cheesy theme park.
I walked down the road, with Solis mumbling behind me about the uncomfortable sensation of having your soul leave your body- it was the only way to travel through dimensions since our natural bodies can’t adapt to the changes in atmosphere and surroundings. Big baby!
I looked for the bus stand, searching for Repeat. This was were she told me she was waiting, right? I was spared further worrying when I finally caught a glimpse of that familiar bright red hair. I ran the rest of the way almost colliding into Repeat in the process. I heard her familiar laugh and looked up at her, eagerly looking for any injuries she may have suffered. She almost always had injuries and it was all due to her love of theatrics. How someone could love drama so much was beyond me.
Thankfully she didn’t have any injuries this time. She looked as beautiful as ever. Solis came up behind me and complained to her about how much f a hassle she was. But I was sure Repeat was too busy checking him out to listen to his ramblings. She thought he was hot! Ew.
I interrupted their banter by saying, “So Repeat, ready to go to my uncle’s house?”
She smirked and nodded.
"Sure."
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Chapter 4
________
The first time I killed someone was when I was seven. The day still haunts me. I still see that little boy's eyes every time I go to sleep. The way he had looked at me with those innocent blue orbs; I'll never forget it. Today was one of those days - the days his eyes haunt me.
I had been an irritable child. I'd scream at every damn thing and would be a pain in the ass when I didn't get things I wanted; I was a typical Barbie thumping mini bitch. Not to mention the fact that I was almost anorexic back then - I gotten mad whenever someone called me fat and so had stopped eating altogether; my mom had coddled me from the very beginning and had fed me and spoiled me until I had become a hundred pound seven year old. I was jealous of the fact that all the other little girls - the other Barbie thumpers, you know, the ones with the blond pigtails and blue bug eyes - were thin beyond compare and looked so pretty - I was young and had a questionable choice in attire; still haunts me to think of those days - in their short pink dresses and black Mary Jane.
I was fat; nothing more and definitely nothing less. And I was constantly reminded of that fact by the Barbie-mate-Ken in our neighborhood. He was the typical all American kid - blonde hair, blue eyes, cute dimples, freckles - the whole shit load. All the other girls had cute little crushes on him and he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the attention; in fact he thrived on it. And him being a boy of negative IQ, he thought the chubby girl should worship him.
I remember perfectly what he said to me when he got to know that I didn't have an ass-backwards, head over heels in love, crush on him. He had said, in that nasally - in my opinion - voice, "Well, fat girls like you don't deserve to love someone".
That had hurt, of course it had! I was a little oblivious kid who was loved by her family and told over and over again that she was beautiful and not fat. My whole world had come crashing down on me when he said that and I was almost in tears. I had run back to my momma, crying to her about how mean the Thompson boy was and that he had called me fat. My momma had reassured me, saying that I was beautiful but I had known better. That was when the anorexia had begun - nothing major at first; a few meals lost here and there, a little less food than usual.
I had grown thinner but hadn't yet come at the point of anorexia until that faithful day. I was the same size as all the other girls by that time and was walking around in a light blue dress, smiling smugly and humming "Mary had a Little Lamb" to me. That was when the naive little boy had come out with his band of mindless little girls and sneered at me, telling me that was I a fake and didn't deserve a pretty dress like that. The girls had pulled, or rather ripped, the butterfly pin my momma had lovingly put in my hair and had crushed it under their feet after throwing it on the ground. I had screamed and lunged for them but it wasn't an even fight. It was one against seven.
In the end I got beat up - naturally - and when the boy had come up to me and said that I deserved all of that just because I was once fat, I lost it. I had screamed at him and clawed his face. I had thrown him on the ground, while all the other future cheerleaders had screamed and gone crying to fetch their mothers. I had looked at Jonah Thompson with hate-filled eyes and screamed, "Go to Hell!"
Little did I know that that was exactly what he was going to do. The wind had picked up and suddenly it had felt like there was a small hurricane surrounding us . Heat had come down on us; blistering, white hot heat - of course, I wasn't effected by it; I had always loved fire. But the same couldn't be said for Jonah. He had screamed under the painful fire that was slowly licking up his body in proverbial flames, while voices had surrounded us.
A cacophony of words had flooded my mind. Tortured voices, lost souls, unfulfilled wishes; a lamentation of pain and sorrow had engulfed me while I had watched in terror as daemonic beings reigned down from the heavens above. The sky had been shrouded by black, menacing clouds which flashed with thunder and cracked with lightning as the couple ascended.
Black, leathery wings stretched to an almost painful breaking point, disfigured faces which were strangely pointed, thin, skeletal bodies sheathed with leather like skin again stretched to breaking point, bat ears and a mouth filled with row after row of sharp, pointed, glistening teeth, the daemons ascended, a frightening aura leaking from them which seemed to shroud the world itself in darkness. Their faces painted with frightening smiles of terror and evil, they slowly descended and landed right beside the little boy screaming in pain. At the sight of his pain, their grin widened, which I didn’t think was possible, and they spoke with a terrible voice; it was a screech of terror and seemed like the epitome of evil to me.
“As you wish, Mistress.” the first disgusting creature had said.
“Your wish is our command.” the other had continued.
And together with their pinched arms, they had lifted the boy who had been twisting in terror and ascended into flight. The sight of their wings stretched to their full and magnificent extent was a sight that had amazed me and repulsed me for I had known what would happen next. Together they each carried one arm of the boy and lifted him into the air, his entire body dangling, with apparently not the slightest amount of effort.
I had watched as they reached the height of their flight and seemingly disappeared into a flash of lighting, their frightening screech cloaked by the crack of thunder. With the hard downpour of rain and the occasional flashes of lightning, I had been sure that any innocent by-standers who had been unfortunate enough to behold the terrible sight, had banished it as a lapse of judgment and sanity.
I had gotten my wish. Jonah Thompson had been taken to hell by, at the time unknown to me, Furies. At first I had thought myself delusional. I had run home, crying to momma about how crazy I was. When my momma had asked me what was wrong, I had blubbered out the entire story to her. I had been expecting, had been hoping, for my momma to tell me it was all a nightmare and I was indeed, crazy. But her reaction had shocked me. Instead of the loving smile she always had on her face every time I talked to her about something, her face was growing whiter with every word I uttered.
When I had finished telling her my crazy story, she had almost looked dead! Her face was so pale; it was as pale as the lilies she loved so much. She had looked down at me with terror written across her face and had picked me up and rushed up the stairs. She had locked the door before she left and told me to not open it, no matter what. I had done what she had told me to do. I had kept the door locked and had waited, unaware of the turmoil brewing downstairs. I now regret that decision.
That was the day my mother had died - how she died, to his day, I have no idea. It was the day I had killed someone. It was the day the attacks had started. It was also the day I had met Repeat, the faerie.
I had waited in my room, unaware of the pixie slowly closing in on me, her hands armed with needle containing a poison deadly enough to kill. I had remained unaware until I had heard the unmistakable sound of a war cry from behind me. I had been stunned at the aspect of such a tiny creature existing, that too with wings! I had watched like a mentally retarded person as the pixie charged at me with a needle in its hand.
Then, suddenly, there had been another figure beside me; it had been a beautiful little girl, probably my age, with flaming red hair - I had never seen someone possessing hair such a violent shade of red - and a pale, porcelain face - how, I envied her skin - and captivating golden eyes. But that was all an afterthought compared to the beautifully ethereal and translucent wings on her back, a shade between gold and red. With her full, pink lips twisted into a scowl, she had swatted the pixie away with her hand as if it were nothing more that an irritable fly!
She had turned to me, her lips still twisted and eyes burning with envy - how she could be envious of me, I had no idea - and I had waited eagerly for her to say something nice to me so that I could thank her. However my luck was not so good. She had said, “Are you stupid or retarded? You could have gotten yourself killed!”
I had stared at her dumbfounded while she shook her head and sighed. She had taken my hand and she has, till now, never let go.
So, naturally as I talked with Replay on the phone, I was irritated but would still do anything for her, even if it meant the hassle of changing dimensions. She hadn’t let me go in my time of need, and neither would I.
So, that brings me back to the situation at hand - inter-dimensional traveling. It is a hassle and then some; a hassle I am about to take for Repeat. I sighed and walked through the glowing door with Solis trailing behind me - he won’t leave me alone after the Soul Reaper incident. He even followed me to the bedroom; talk about embarrassing!
The world of the faeries is really a sight to behold - it’s almost like Las Vegas, only more other-worldly and magical. Bright golden and red florescent lights of floating energy adorned every corner of the medieval roads, giving an effect of cheerful abandonment to whoever beheld the sight. The modern, buildings of abstract designs were a complete contradiction to the older roads on which they stood, but it provided a nice effect. A cheerful atmosphere seemed to hang around the city. Loud, booming music came from the various clubs scattered around the robust town, seriously disturbing my hearing process. You have got to love the Faerie World - that sounds like some cheesy theme park.
I walked down the road, with Solis mumbling behind me about the uncomfortable sensation of having your soul leave your body- it was the only way to travel through dimensions since our natural bodies can’t adapt to the changes in atmosphere and surroundings. Big baby!
I looked for the bus stand, searching for Repeat. This was were she told me she was waiting, right? I was spared further worrying when I finally caught a glimpse of that familiar bright red hair. I ran the rest of the way almost colliding into Repeat in the process. I heard her familiar laugh and looked up at her, eagerly looking for any injuries she may have suffered. She almost always had injuries and it was all due to her love of theatrics. How someone could love drama so much was beyond me.
Thankfully she didn’t have any injuries this time. She looked as beautiful as ever. Solis came up behind me and complained to her about how much f a hassle she was. But I was sure Repeat was too busy checking him out to listen to his ramblings. She thought he was hot! Ew.
I interrupted their banter by saying, “So Repeat, ready to go to my uncle’s house?”
She smirked and nodded.
"Sure."
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