Warning:
slight language (and one crude gesture).
I
suggest listening to this song while reading this chapter.
_~…~_
She hated school. Hated it. It was always the same thing over and over: boring classes,
boring teachers and boring people, talking about boring topics.
What a bunch of idiots.
She hated them. All of them. If she never had to see any of them ever again, she’d
be happy. But life didn’t work that way, and she was still stuck with them for
at least another couple of years. It made her envious of her siblings. Arienne
was already done with school and Renard…he
only had a couple of months left.
So damn lucky.
Behind her, she could hear the girls at the
other table snigger. She didn’t even need to turn around to know they were
laughing at her. She simply walked away, doing her best to ignore them. It
wasn’t that difficult; she’d had enough practice. She refused to give them the
satisfaction of knowing just how much it bothered her.
She hated
being a teenager. She hated school, she hated the people around her, and
she hated the expectations society had suddenly placed on her. Go to school, get
a boyfriend, graduate, get a job, get married, have children.
What a boring existence.
Of course, Arienne didn’t share her
sentiments at all. In fact, her
sister thrived on those expectations. She only had two things left on the list
to achieve, and she was well on her way to do it, having gotten engaged to her
high school sweet-heart just two weeks previously.
How unbelievably freakin’ boring. Was that
all people ever did? How many people even bothered
to look for someone else, instead of just settling down with the person they
dated in high school? She didn’t want that. Surely there was more to life than
such an utterly boring existence?
Maybe…maybe it wasn’t life that was boring. Maybe it was just life in Sunset Valley. Maybe it would be a good
idea to leave the town when she was done with school. Maybe then she’d find
somewhere she’d belong. She loved her family, but…family wasn’t enough.
It was almost dark by the time she finally
returned home. The lights were already on, its familiar glow welcoming her to
enter the comforting warmth of her house; warmth that only her family had ever
been able to give her. Through the glass she could see her dad and Renard
talking and for a moment, just a moment, she felt like a stranger looking in.
But then she opened the door and her dad
turned to her with a welcoming smile on his face and that irrational feeling of
not belonging faded away like mist
before the sun. She was home. In spite of the presence of the ghosts, it was
the only place she had ever belonged.
“Everything alright?” her dad asked her
softly, pulling her into a half-sided hug. If it had been someone else asking
her, she knew she would’ve given them some kind of flippant reply, but it was
her dad. He was the only person she
couldn’t treat indifferently. If there was one thing she knew she shared with
Renard, it was that she didn’t want to disappoint her dad.
“Just
tired,” she answered him softly. Her dad gave her shoulder another squeeze,
wordlessly informing her that he knew something else was bothering her, but
that it didn’t matter and that he’d support her no matter what it was. After
all the crap she got at school, it was incredibly liberating.
“I’m here if you ever want to talk,” her
dad assured her with a gentle smile, immediately causing her spirits to lift.
She gave him a grateful smile and bounded up the stairs to her room, feeling
carefree for the first time that day. When she went to sleep that night, it was
with the knowledge that she wasn’t alone.
But time was a fickle thing, and it wasn’t
long before her entire world got turned on its head.
“Lyra,
are you listening to a word I’m saying? You’re the one who asked me to explain
this stuff,” Renard interrupted his sister’s boredom-induced trance. She
scowled at him, immediately irritated that he interrupted her thoughts. She
couldn’t help not focusing on Renard’s explanation. He was terrible at explaining things.
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” she replied
flippantly. Renard scowled and threw down his pen in exasperation, giving Lyra
the reaction she was looking for. She was itching for a fight; had been itching
for the entire week. Renard was just the perfect excuse to not hold back
anymore.
“Why do you even bother asking me for help
if you don’t wanna listen?” he snapped at her, finally losing his patience.
Lyra glared at him and opened her mouth to retort –
“Children,
if you’re going to fight, do you mind doing it where I can’t hear you?” their
dad mildly rebuked them, clearly on edge, as evident by the slight scowl on his
face. His words instantly stopped the fight, causing the two teens to shift uncomfortably.
Their dad almost never grew impatient
with them. It just didn’t happen.
For a moment the teens just stared at their
dad, completely caught off guard, but then his words caught up to them and they
both mumbled an apology, the fledging fight completely forgotten. Even so, a
slight tension remained hanging over them.
“Uhm,
is something wrong, dad?” Renard hesitantly enquired after a while; when the
silence grew too profound for his comfort. Their dad sighed and rubbed the
bridge of his nose and for a moment Lyra was sure he wouldn’t answer them, but
that notion was quickly dispelled.
“I just received some troubling news,
that’s all,” he answered them tiredly. “It’s not a major issue, but…it is
worrying.”
The confession was simple enough and Lyra
should’ve believed him, but the haunted look in her dad’s eyes convinced her it
was more than that. She didn’t think the news he’d received was such a minor
matter as he made it out to be.
“Does this have something to do with the
attack on the police station?” Renard asked, proving himself to be a bit more
perceptive than Lyra had expected.
It was a long time before they got an
answer, and when they did, it was just
half an answer.
“Just…be careful, okay?” their dad
requested tiredly. “Try not to go anywhere alone, and try to be back here
before it gets dark. I’m probably worrying about nothing, but…I think I’ll be
more at ease if the two of you do this for me.”
It wasn’t an order, but in Lyra’s eyes it
just as well might have been. It was disconcerting to see her dad so ill at
ease. She chafed at the restrictions placed on her, but she knew she’d obey
them nonetheless, even if it did take
away her freedom slightly.
In the end, it turned out her dad hadn’t been worried about nothing, but
by the time they found that out, it was already too late.
“Seriously?
You’re going out now?” Lyra asked
incredulously, staring at her brother. “What about Dad’s request? He asked you not to go out after dark!”
Renard shrugged unconcernedly, the
nonchalant gesture infuriating Lyra.
“And Ingrid asked me to come over,” he pointed
out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, Dad won’t even
notice I’m gone. I’ll be back before him.”
“Really Renard, would it kill you to listen
for once?” Lyra once again tried to talk reason into her brother, angered
beyond reason by the way he kept brushing her off, but her pleas fell on deaf
ears. Instead he flipped her off and left the house, disappearing into the
darkness of the night. With their mom at work and their dad at a meeting with
his editor, Lyra was suddenly left completely alone, with only the ghosts to
keep her company.
She suppressed the urge to scream. Her
stupid stupid damn brother! Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why
did he have to be so irresponsible? Why couldn’t he just listen for once in his life? She knew why. It was because he
thought the whole damn world revolved around him!
The winter-wind howled around the house,
causing her to shiver slightly. She was alone, in the one place she was never
supposed to be alone. The lights were on, but that familiar warmth Lyra
found so comforting was missing, leaving her to feel cold in a completely
inexplicable manner.
On the other side of town, Chantia froze in
her steps. The Song she’d been hearing throughout her life had changed again;
suddenly, urgently. It had once again
become a dirge: one that had all blood draining from Chantia’s face.
Someone in her
family was going to die.
_~…~_
In retrospect, it wasn’t one of the most
intelligent things Renard had ever done. There usually was a reason why he listened to his dad. His
dad didn’t often expect things from them, but when he did it was for a damn
good reason.
How could he have forgotten that?
“Well,
well, aren’t you the pretty boy,” the
woman who had tied him up stated predatorily, tilting up his head slightly so
she could look at his eyes. Her hand was cold against his skin, and the
feathery way she caressed his cheek sent shivers down his spine. There was
nothing sensual about the caress. If anything, it reminded Renard of the way a
lioness would circle her prey before taking it down. The slight gleam of
insanity in her eyes did nothing to dissuade him of that notion.
His heart thundered in his chest. There was
no mistake about it. The woman in front of him was dangerous. Why hadn’t he
listened to Lyra?
“You
look so much like your father, don’t you?” the woman murmured softly, a
dangerous smirk playing on the corners of her mouth. She moved her hand up his
cheek and stopped at the corner of his eye, her hand lingering on his
cheekbone. “Except your eyes. You don’t have your father’s eyes.”
A flash of hate appeared in her eyes and
her entire face twisted, showing Renard a visage of intense hatred. She grabbed
his face, her nails cutting small crescents into his cheeks.
“You were supposed to be mine,” she spat out, her voice laden
with anger. “He belonged to me.
Instead that brown-eyed bitch stole
him from me and dared to give him
hope.”
Renard flinched and closed his eyes,
wishing he could somehow get away from the woman, or that somebody could save
him. He had never been so afraid before in his life.
The woman gave a chortle, her face once
again twisting. The slight gleam of insanity in her eyes intensified, leaving
Renard with absolutely no doubt that the woman in front of him was a complete
and utter psychopath. The crazed smirk playing once again on her mouth only lent
emphasis to that idea.
“So you know what?” she asked rhetorically.
“I’m going to take him back, and I’m gonna make him despair.” Her face lit up in delight and the peals of laughter that
suddenly ran through the warehouse caused another wave of shivers down Renard’s
spine.
Her laughter abruptly stopped, leaving the
last remnants of the sound to echo in the silence. She turned her gaze back to
Renard, that same crazed smirk still on her face.
“I think…I’ll start with you. Dear, dear Sammy will surely come for you, won’t he?” She caressed his cheek again, and
despite his desire to turn his face away from her touch, he couldn’t move a
muscle. He was frozen in fear; like prey caught in the gaze of a predator. “So
protective over his precious little
family. But he forgot: he belongs to me.
And so does everything that’s precious to him.”
Her hand left his face and for a moment
Renard felt relief, but that relief soon turned to dread when she fished his
phone out of his pocket.
“Why
are you doing this?” Renard asked hoarsely, his voice cracking with fear. “What
has my dad ever done to you to make you do this to me?”
Her answer was a short, hatred-filled
laugh.
“Oh, you have no idea,” she sneered. “But
it doesn’t matter. All I’m doing is give him a reminder; a reminder that I
don’t take kindly to being betrayed. You,
I’m afraid, are only my means to an end.”
With that declaration she pushed a button
on his phone, causing the sound of a dialling tone to fill the warehouse. On
the screen, Renard could clearly read the recipient of the call, causing mixed
feelings of gratitude and uneasiness to rise up in him.
His dad would come to safe him. He was sure
of it.
But why did he feel so uneasy about it?
_~…~_
A/N: In case there were any doubts, Valeri
got a little more insane during her stay in prison. And now I will run away
before anyone can kill me for the horrible cliffhanger I’ve left. XD *runs
very, very far away*
(Btw, Arienne is now on the download page,
if anybody is interested in her)
