Tuesday, October 20, 2009

The Red Scorpion, Chapter 2

2020
Still at the Orphanage
France

Nicolette woke up with a start. The intense heat had troubled her awake. Smoke alerted her to her senses. A distant scream was heard, “Le feu!!”
Fire! An all too-familiar fear coursed through her. She shook her head to clear the rising panic that had gripped her. The rapidly increasing temperature made it hard to concentrate. Bone-chilling screams permeated all throughout the orphanage, mingling with her own. No no no.. This can’t be happening to me again. A wave of nostalgia washed over her accompanied by a crushing blow of nausea. Her surroundings swan before her and she blacked out.

Nicolette found herself plunged into a world very much like her past. She was in a forest clearing, she knew. This was where she was walking with her parents the day they were killed. It was a sunny afternoon; the cool wind was playing with her hair. This was her perfect paradise.
She brought her hand up to shield her face from the glare of the sun. She gave a start as she heard female laughter ring out. She sharply turned, her breath catching as she saw her parents walking towards her, their hands entwined between them. She blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall.
She wanted to call out to them but her voice stuck. A whispered cry came from her lips, shrill and desperate even to her own ears, “Mère! Père!”
As her parents came to view, a black-armored horseman atop an ink-black stallion, both their eyes flaming with the fiery depths of hell, charged at her parents. The grueling scene from her childhood tragedy came to play before her. Everything around her was sunk into a pitch-black world. Thunder rolled and lightning clapped. Nature’s tears fell on full force, drenching her, mingling with her tears. The rain pricked at her but she ignored it. She ran towards the dead bodies, not caring if the horseman will slaughter her or not. Blood painted the ground where they lay, her dad holding her mom close. The sight of her lifeless parents fueled her anger she had long since buried. Revenge coursed through her, warding off the chill of the biting wind.
“What now little girl?” the rider asked her in a low-pitched voice, breathing down her neck. His voice made her shiver; his maniacal laughter piercing through her heart.
Another bolt of lightning flashed through the sky followed by a long rumbling thunder, illuminating her tear-streaked face. The rider spoke again, taunting her, “Come find me, princesse. Don’t you want to avenge them? Your parents who died to let you live? Come to me, jolie fille. I will be waiting.”
His mocking laughter made her boil. With a scream, she turned and lunged at him only to find herself pitched into nothingness.

Bang!
The loud thump snapped her into wakefulness. She opened her eyes to discover Alastaire entering the room, smiling sheepishly. “Oh, you’re awake.”
Nicolette rolled her eyes but gave a weak smile. Taking hold of her voice she asked, “The fire, Alastaire?”
He shook his head, giving her a charming smirk, “It’s over now, mon amour. We’re at the Febvre’s. They were kind enough to keep you and me here while they sort out the orphanage. You’re safe now. You are with me, after all.”
Too tired to argue of him calling her his ‘love’, Nicolette chose instead to keep her silence.
“Thinking of me, mon cher?” he said teasingly, walking over to her and laying half his body on top of her.
Nicolette scoffed, pushing at his shoulders but to no avail, “Get off me, Alastaire.”
“No.”
“Get off!!” Nicolette pushed at him harder.
His answer was to kiss her sound on the lips. She glared at him as he pulled away, smirk in place. “If you’re ready, cher, dinner is waiting downstairs.”
“Pompous bastard,” she muttered, getting up and spotting the clothes put out for her at the foot of the bed.

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