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47. Ch6 Sc15-18

Feb 09, 2024

Good morning and a very merry unbirthday to all of my beloved Sparks! And a very warm welcome to the few newbies. I’m so glad you’re here!

Oooh, guys and gals… Ooooh!

I couldn’t wait to share this juicy scene with you. I just couldn’t wait. It took all my willpower to schedule it almost a week ahead of time. It took a nauseating amount of self-control, and then I had to turn off my computer and put it in the cupboard so I wouldn’t take it out again to press send. I am actually proud of myself for doing it.

But here you are. We are finally at the conclusion of our exciting chapter 6! I hope you like it. I really hope it tickles you pink. Because this isn’t even the exciting stuff I‘ve been working up to.

But I might need a little more time to finalize chapter seven than I have right now. I’ll try, I promise, but bear with me if I get a little behind. Be kind, gentle friends.

And so, without further ado:

Previously: Logan and Tom finally repair their damaged relationship which has been on rocky ground since they found Elle, and come home from their vacation in high spirits only to find Luke once again under pressure from the PG.

Tom is still standing in the gym doorway when I get there. Elle is swinging and leaping between the bars again but she stops after a minute, takes a bow, and then runs straight up to him, her arms wide open. He returns her hug, saying her performance was wonderful and she smiles that sweet smile of hers.

I haven't spoken to her since I told her Luke was back. I’m not sure how to start, but my heart is breaking as I finger the syringe where I hid it in my jumper pocket. I try for cooperation, hoping she will come quietly, delaying the inevitable dose of catalyst and energy-blocker-infused sedative.

She just glares at me when I say, "Luke needs to talk to you about some things. It's quite important, so please follow me." Let’s see how far we get.

Three months have passed, by their calendar, when Logan finally scrapes together the courage to face me again. Thomas and I have been close throughout that time. It has taken me a while to let myself trust him a little. Even then I was still wary, especially when one morning he came all beaten up, with his straight blonde hair suddenly loose on his shoulders, looking every bit like the prince he is.

But I sense him on the way from the Library and as soon as I know he is coming my heart leaps. For just a few seconds, I let myself be happy again. Tom's energy signal is strong and clear but it can't disguise Logan's close behind. It sets me on edge, and my blood starts to boil.

They stop in the doorway and watch as I complete the final few jumps in the routine I have adapted from Teag's lessons so long ago. Two hands on the last bar. Up. Summersault and backflip to the first. Up and over, and then a double summer-sault down to the ground. Tom’s golden hair tosses with his laugh, his strong biceps and pectorals filling the dark blue sweater as he holds his arms out to me.

Even while I accept Tom’s praise on my perfect landing, my eyes never leave Logan's face. He looks completely defeated, his will broken and his spirit not far from crushed as I throw my arms willingly around his brother like I never did to him. It feels almost as good as the last time he looked at me like this inside that small sealed room.

Tom stands aside when Logan approaches and asks me to follow him again. Their body language is tense, which I haven’t seen, in Tom at least, in a while. Logan’s sadness and the way he keeps fondling something in the front pocket of his jacket, tells me something is up, and from the fact that they just cam here from a meeting with Luke can only mean one thing. Not smart.

I nod and don’t hesitate even if instinct tells me to shiver and cower and beg. I will myself to feel nothing. I swallow my brimming hatred for Logan, which seems so desperate to spill over, so that I can appear calm and collected and breathe evenly, despite my recent exertions. And while they lead me off to meet Luke for what can only mean more torture, I can’t even let myself think of the fact that Tom just stands aside.

As we walk down the hall I look at the pretty leaves and vines and try not to notice the picture frames and the people in them that all seem to resemble Luke, else the dam of hatred might just burst too soon. It’ll be quite a way to the top of the tower on the other side of the Manor.

We pass the empty rooms I’ve never entered. Each door is carved in a different pattern in a similar style. There’s a collection of leaves with curly edges and another with lines of jagged teeth, a flower that looks like a frilly dress, a tiny house on a hill, some mushrooms, some insects… It goes on and on until we reach mine, rays of light from a trio of suns in a cloudy sky. A reminder of where I’m from I suppose.

Tom is a little way behind me. His breathing tells me he is agitated. He doesn’t like this. Logan is ahead, fiddling inside his pocket, he barely spares a glance for the opening. Not smart.

As we pass by the open door, without changing the measure of my steps, I simply slip inside and quickly push it shut, locking myself in and them out.

Once I have my back up against the flimsy wooden barrier, my thoughts turn hateful and violent, and getting them under control is more than I can manage right now. I draw in a heavy breath as my hands shake uncontrollably. It’s easier to be angry than afraid.

Calm and collected can't be further from the state I am in. They went too far last time and now they think I'll just let them do it again.

I think of Logan and all the fun and learning we did together, every sweet smile, and encouraging hand-hold, filled with care to make me feel secure. I think of how I trusted him since I woke up with my chest all bound up in bandages. But then he betrayed me. He helped Luke do that...

An image of Teag pops into my mind and his voice echoes eerily in my ears, “He doesn't deserve your sentimentality, Jenina. Sentimentality is weakness. Weakness deserves punishment.” No, Teag. You bastard! Why can't I just forget you ever existed? I killed you so I wouldn’t have to think about you again! I bang my palms against my temples and clench my teeth.

No, forget about Teag. He's the past. Think about the present. What am I going to do? I either have to stop them or I have to get out. It's not like I can just walk out the front door. I could try to kill them, my body surely wanted to back then. But Logan and Tom are both here. Even though I’m in top form physically, it’ll be difficult to take them both, and I have no desire to kill Tom. Also, Logan is hiding something, it could be the drugs they used last time. They'll just drug me again and then they’ll bind me and then I'll be trapped, imprisoned and it'll be worse than TTH ever was, at least there, there was a purpose to it. This time they won't stop until they have everything they want.

I should run. But how do I get out without them getting in the way? I could blast a hole through the wall. Eimyrja Bresta should do it easily enough. I shiver remembering the last time I used that particularly explosive attack. I can do it. No, it's too dangerous.

Who am I trying to protect anyway?! If they get hurt… So what, if they get hurt? Tom won’t die, probably not even from a direct hit. I can do it, Eimyrja...

Okay, but what then? Where do I go? Just away? Away from Logan and Luke. Away from Tom?

Tom... I can't just leave. He cares about me. Maybe I should stay. I can't stay. They'll get in. They'll force their way in and then they'll do it again. Luke is desperate by now. He won't be so gentle this time. He will break and tear and rend just like they did, just like James did the first time.

My mind is a mess of memories at the thought of the day I met James.

Oh, Mama, please don't cry anymore. No!!! Not her!! Stop it! Stop. No more! If I give him that, I'll have nothing left.

Tom. I'll stay a little while, just to say goodbye. Just for Thomas. Yes, just for him. It'll at least give me time to think.

But, I don't see him again. I wish I could, but he doesn’t come, and I don’t dare to seek him out. The only one who knocks on my door is Logan and I still hate him.

I wait three days. On the fourth, I tidy up and then open the door.

I am surprised to see Elle’s door open when I carry her breakfast tray this morning. I had little hope that she would see me, she’s been unresponsive since she locked herself in but here she is, dangling her bare feet off the edge of her bed in a pale blue knee length dress, like a normal little girl.

Luke Tom and I have had a few heated debates over the past few days over whether or not to kick the door down. Of course, it would have been the simplest option, as General Morgan suggested. Demanded. By some miracle, Luke managed to get us a few days to convince her. So far we haven’t made any progress, and we all agreed that I try a firmer approach this morning because it might be our last chance, so I don’t hesitate to walk right in, stepping gingerly past her untouched supper tray and onto the lilac carpet. And that’s when it starts to go wrong.

Before she even sees me, her surprise turns to cold disappointment, then hot anger, and dark hatred. The whirlwind of emotion freezes me in my tracks as she turns to face me and for a second I just stand there, trying to think of a way to greet her. With my hands full, all I can do is open my mouth, but before I can make a single sound, the tray goes flying and dishes crash to splinters on the carpet. I find myself flat on my back.

The suddenness of her movement evokes a strange sense of déja-vù. I am just about transported back to that day on the ship. It’s as if I blinked and missed something, but only for an instant. This is different.

She’s not trying to get away this time. She’s on top of me. Her little fists slam into my face, ribs, and stomach, with such startling rapidity that I don’t even have a chance to think up a defense.

I barely catch glimpses of her between the bone-crunching blows. She’s lightning fast. Her arms are covered in a layer of bright green energy, and a wild light flashes in her eyes every time her fists connect with my face and body. After the first few seconds, even through the blur of pain and blood, I am sure that I can see a maniacal grin twisting and distorting her soft features, that grows with each blow, falling faster and harder than the ones before. She is enjoying this.

I am just about paralyzed. Even though she’s light, mustering energy takes concentration. If I only had a half second I could push her off of me, but the intensity and speed of her attacks have me helpless. My vision starts to dim, bright flashes of green sucking away the color from the rest of the room. Just a few more and I will pass out. I can make out her scream through the sound of my bones breaking as my muscles lose all rigidity.

All I can do is blink and breathe and not pass out. Then it stops.

I have never been out of the Manor on my own. I haven't even been in half of the rooms in the Manor. How am I going to leave?

I sense the Manorian energy approaching but I am too lost in thought to pay attention to which one it is. There is no putting it off. I have to do it before I change my mind. I will escape and find a place in the wild to live out my days in peace. I can hunt, and keep myself warm with energy and bathe in a river or something. I will be alright, but I have to stop thinking about it and actually do it.

Logan walks right in. He doesn't even pause at the door. It annoys me. It isn't only the intrusion. It’s not the interruption. It is the insolence in his stride, as if he walks with supreme confidence. I feel his stare. He is surprised to see me.

I close my eyes for a moment. Luke is downstairs, Tom is in the gym, and I can sense other energy signatures approaching at a distance. A large group of soldiers headed by that General person, Luke respects so much.

I don't have much time. It will have to be quick. No matter. I can do just as good a job in a short time as I can otherwise, I just won't be able to enjoy it as much. When I look back over my shoulder at Logan, he’s actually smiling like he’s won some kind of prize.

It looks like he wants to say something, but I don’t give him the chance, and jump at him. This is it. No more! It's time for your punishment!

He doesn't even resist. He just falls. I hit him, hard and fast. I want it to hurt, and I strike him with as much of my strength as I can without breaking bone. I slam my fists into him over and over. His face, his body. He doesn't even fight back. I just want him to hurt as much as I do. I can taste my own salty tears as they run unhindered down my face and I smile a bitter smile because I can’t believe that after all this, I still don’t want him to die. But as my heart keeps the time, my arms get covered up to the elbows with his splattered blood. Through the thrill and the warm wet splashes, I can sense Luke going to meet the soldiers disembarking in the garden.

Stop it! Stop this now, there isn't time.

I pull away. Logan is hardly breathing when I leap to my feat. It took eighty heartbeats, maybe a hundred, and my heart is beating very fast. Less than one of his minutes. I can see he is still conscious, if only halfway but he isn’t moving, and Tom is coming.

I don’t think, but get into the position, letting the energy that has been so desperate to escape these last few months rise as high as it will. My focus is difficult to find. I don’t even aim, except to make sure that I won’t hit anyone directly. A kill here will only make them that much more determined to find me. As I make the final adjustment to my stance, I remind myself to go easy, Eimyrja Brasa uses a lot of energy.

The blast is short and intense. There is little dust. Not like the first time, when I blasted through TTH’s walls... then I couldn't control it. That mess was an accident. No! Focus! It vaporizes the glass and stone on the wall that used to have a window and the view is unobscured.

Their sky is blue and cloudless. It’s lighter than our nights but with the same rich depth.

I look back at Logan. He stares at me with sadness in his swollen half-shut eyes, his face hardly recognizable.

They'll be on their way, quickly now.

Logan heaves a shaky breath as his blood soaks into the carpet in a widening circle.

What have I done?

Next Time: Well, since this is the last scene in this chapter and my next post opens up a whole new one, I’m not going to give anything away. You’ll have to stick around, for new graphics and more action and the start of a whole new adventure...

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47. Ch6 Sc15-18

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