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Chap. 14 - What About Yesterday
Published Jul 19, 2013


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HumorMeh

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Okay, hold this scenario in your mind:

A Vampyre Prince is searching for his uncle who he thinks knows the secret to finding the cure to his mother's illness; however, he gets captured by a fairy and is rendered helpless and so accidentally taps into this random chick's consciousness who is also mixed into this mess and he somehow instills within her a need to find his uncle as well . . .

Oh, snap!

Okay, hold this scenario in your mind:

A Vampyre Prince is searching for his uncle who he thinks knows the secret to finding the cure to his mother's illness; however, he gets captured by a fairy and is rendered helpless and so accidentally taps into this random chick's consciousness who is also mixed into this mess and he somehow instills within her a need to find his uncle as well . . .

Oh, snap!
As she placed her hand in his, he could make out the clatter of footsteps on the stair— “Wake-y, wake-y, vampyre-boy. I want you to meet somebodies!”

Oren didn’t move.

The fairy was at the bars, real close—
In a blink, Oren was there, reaching for her—and threatening—menacingly, “Let me…” She leaned forward and blew him a clouded kiss—suddenly, it was as if someone had wrapped his mind in a soft, pleasant-smelling, woolen blanket. “Out?” The Vampyre Hunter quirked an eyebrow sarcastically. “I want you to meet Vera”—dully, Oren took in the two Verismili before him; somewhere deep inside him he was shocked, terrified, confused, because the last he checked the Soldiers of Spring were supposed to be extinct—“and her brother, Jonquil. Now, say hi.” His mind and body worked not of his own volition. Oren struggled against the haze in his mind but—“Hi.” The Vampyre Hunter clapped her hands, “Oh, joy! I’m so glad we’ve found someone to try out your kisses on, Vera!” “Now, our prince is willing—” Vera mumbled, gazing at the glazed-eyed vampyre.

“—Let’s see if he is able.” Jonquil muttered, darkly.
“Listen up, vampyre-boy. We have a friend who shall be joining us here in France shortly. We want a way of showing our gratitude to him—” she didn’t see a need to elaborate on why “—and since it’s a vampyre-eat-vampyre world out there for us Supernaturals, you’re going to gather the wanted items for us. But first—a test: to see if you’re… …well, let’s just say up for the task.” Oren had the annoying feeling that something was very wrong.

But there was Marisa—

Smiling at him, and he was suddenly at ease and nothing else mattered but her—

“Okay, where are we going?”

Oren blinked at her.
“Oh no, bobo, you have no clue where we’re supposed to go, do you?”


Slowly, “…I’m sorry. No.” “Then why are you even here?” But she didn’t let go of his hand. “I think just walking will do us fine.” Right.” Marisa huffed, “The hell it will.” As soon as they stepped off her cousin's lot the world around her was a blur but familiar yet Oren was as sharp and clear as those potion vials Theo hoarded; it all unsettled her. “This isn’t just some dream, is it? You’re not just a figment of my imagination, are you?” “You’re asleep—unconscious.” He said.

Marisa squeezed her eyes shut: he was avoiding the question.

“So am I.” He opened his mouth—shut it.
Now, he was getting somewhere, and she wasn’t about to let him hit the brakes.

“Oren. Just say it already! Talk! Tell me what’s going on because I am about ten seconds from freaking. And I cannot read your mind.”

She cast a skeptical glance at her surroundings—
“I can.” He had captured her full attention now, and he was looking at her, hard. “Did I ever tell you I can hear every little thing a person thinks about me if I listen carefully enough…used to be this endless flush of words in my head—when I was young I thought I was paranoid…crazy. I could hear voices in my head and they…they didn’t always have something nice to say.” She shook her head, “No. You never told me that.”

“Anyway.” He shook his head, “I’ve learned to tune them out, but sometimes they still slip through.”

Again, he wouldn’t look at her.
So Marisa chirped, “My turn.”

A regretful smile flickered across his face.
“Oh-kay.” She was suddenly nervous, “I’m afraid of water. Oh, what’s the word? Hydrophobic… When I was young I had, uh…” Her words were failing her already, “Well, I had a friend. We were best friends. We met in first grade and we were inseparable ever since: I mean we practically breathed the same air, wore the same clothes, had the same dreams.” Her smile was easy and warm and fragile. “Kelly and Marisa. Marisa and Kelly. Two sides of the same coin—you ever had someone like that: someone who was another piece of your heart.”

Oren gripped her hand tighter, feeling something disastrous looming in her tale.
“In about the seventh grade, she told me her and her family were moving. And we truly feared that might be the end of our friendship. But she moved to Moonlight Falls. And my grandmother lived there and my father would send me there during the summers—to the old witch—to boil in the humidity of the Falls. But, now, I loved my summers there—worth the ten months of school I had to wait for them: worth more than that.” “And over the school year she—of course—met friends, but it was through her that I met Theo—Theodore Glouck—and we were a fierce trio. Everyday we spent on the beech or annoying the ice-cream man or building sandcastles or seeing how long we could hold our breaths underwater. Kelly was a fish and Theo was a—” A laugh bubbled from Marisa “—Theo was a priss. And it was so fun, I begged my father to let me spend the winter there too.”

Oren was mesmerized; it seemed like a charmed—
“Then one summer; she’d gotten into the habit of sneaking out early to catch the high-tide, and I used to make her promise to never-ever wake me up before eleven. And she kept that promise.

“And she drowned. There was this huge wave, apparently, and it knocked her off her jet ski. When she tried to surface, she cracked her head on the thing—” Marisa shivered. “Ever seen a drowned body?”
“Theo and me met up and headed toward the beech—we didn’t know she was— It was still so early; the place was vacated, but there—there she was: her body had rolled in with the tide…” “I haven’t swam since—y’know until—”

Awe was his voice, “Until the dive well in Egypt. Thank you.” He felt it was the least he could say.
“Uh, you don’t have to thank me.”

“I think I do. And I won’t take it back—I won’t… Matter of fact, I’m sure you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
“Oh, cheese. Did you just hit me with that cheese-load of cheesiness, Oren? ”

“I’m sorry, Risa, but I stand by my words—”
“Thanks. For that. For calling me brave, I mean.”

“Anytime.”
Suddenly, she clapped a hand to her mouth—“Hell. Me había alvidado por completo! You’re somewhere lost—trapped—in France! You can tell me where you are and—”

“I don’t want to talk about those things, Marisa.” And in truth his memory was a smear and he couldn’t remember much, “However, I do wanna hear about what you’re doing.”
Marisa squinted, “Okay, Oren, don’t think I’m not going to pry that information from you eventually—”

Abruptly, “How are things, Marisa?”
They’d given him back his pendant and his clothes and more. His gloved hands pressed against the flagstone wall before him.

Without a thought, he began his ascent.
His breath came in puffs of smoke, and he was as silent as its dissipation. And he’d been sent here for something specific: a jewel; but, supposedly, this place had lots of priceless valuables, so to find the jewel he was sent here for he’d have to interrogate a guard— He reacted quickly, but so did the guard. And the guard went tumbling into the well. —He’d have to interrogate a guard but not that one. He moved on through the tunnel with frantic splashes and calls growing fainter and fainter behind him until he was deaf to any sound but his own breath—the only indication he was alive. He pressed an ear against the wall before proceeding; he heard someone speaking in French—luckily, he knew French.

“Three more hours until my shifts over…just—” he heard a yawn “—three.”

He activated the hidden switch.
Then he was one in the office and the dazed guard was stuck in the practically impenetrable darkness of that hallway. Briefly, he glanced around then exited— He pressed himself as flat as he could against the case.

Oui, Oui. I’ll go check on the master’s precious hall, I am sure Dax just fell asleep or something—that’s why he’s not responding over the radio; I’ll check on him too after the jewels, if you insist.”

“Just get it done, Abner.”
The guard shut the door behind him and trooped up the stairs. He followed him to the third floor— The “Precious” Hall, indeed. He kept a certain amount of distance between him and the guard, trusting his ears to detect if anyone was approaching. He heard . . .

the guard's footsteps, echoing . . .

the imperceptible click and snap of the door being opened and closed at the end of the hall.

He followed.
He slid into the room, silent as a shadow. And when the guard opened hidden door, he registered surprise within himself but took the cognizance to make note what the shelf the book that activated the door was on. Then he hid and waited for the guard to return, and after the guard shut the door behind him: It took him a moment to find the exact book, but then he was climbing a ladder to a secret room, and he was pulling aside a statue, and he was reaching into a hole in the ground. And he was gone before the city of lights could even wake up. “I don’t know how to explain exactly how I’m here—in your dream; however, I assume it has do with my ability to hear thoughts.”

“So are you really dying?”
“I not so sure anymore. They seem to have a plan for me; I think as we are communicating, right now, my unconscious self is controlling my body and doing whatever that fae wants me to do—I don’t like this. Not at all.”

“Brock and Rosa, uh…contacted me and we’re on our way, but before I go with them—I just…”
“Have something to finish?” Oren offered.

Si.”
“Well, I wish you well, Marisa.”

“Why did that sound like a goodbye, Oren?”

He let go of her hand—

They were at the cemetery.
It is. Risa, this is where your dreams were attempting to lead you.”

“So is all of this fake, bobo?” A sudden panic in her voice, “Is-was all of this simply and only a dream?”
Oren nodded, “Yes. This is merely an illusion, a construct of your mind.” He smiled— —“But, it’s one hell of a beautiful dream, if you ask me.” Abruptly, He jerked his hand back—his eyes went black and he was shouting, “No! No, you’ll not put me back in that cage! Don— “Oren? Oren!” His eyes were green again, “I’ll be waiting for you, Marisa, and—right now—you’re exactly where you need to be.” He gestured to the graveyard. Marisa turned to take in the ghastly, lonely sight—she spun back around— Bobo!”

A comfortable purring resonated from behind her.
“Luna?” “So…whatever your grandmother wanted you to find—whatever knowledge she wanted you to posses, it is—” “In there. Yeah. And then…” Marisa took a breath, “Then Grandmother Louise will be able to move on.” “Are you ready?” Theo said.

Marisa nodded.

“Are you sure you want to go alone?”

Marisa nodded.
“Then I’ll be waiting right here for you until you come back, Marzipan.” “She said Cimbria—the netherworld—was calling her back—she was stuck inside the walls of the mausoleum, Theo—she sent Luna to tell me where she was: the dreams. And when I went inside she explained all this and she gave me something—this necklace. It was in her tomb and it’s a soulpeace stone, apparently.” “A-uh—did you just say soulpeace?” “This was her last chance to move on before Cimbria claimed her… After she gave me this, she disappeared in the brightest light I’ve ever seen, Theo.” “—Do you think she moved on—to heaven?” “Yes.” And there was an unshakable certainty in her voice. And there . . . you have it.

Hope you Enjoyed!!!
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#1IeHeLiJul 19, 2013

Great pictures and interesting story. \:\)

#2fruitopiaVIPJul 22, 2013

I enjoyed your screenshots. Great story.

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