...As night fell, Odette climbed on top of the roof and
looked towards the Eiffel Tower; the lights were distinguishable, but far. She took a deep breath and leaped to the next
building. She was dressed in all black, it covered her nose and mouth and her
long hair was in a flat bun, her blue eyes could be seen but only if someone
looked closely, and most natives were asleep.
She neared her target and saw him sitting outside,
smoking. He had wavy black hair with streaks of grey, age definitely caught up to
him. Handsome as he was, he was the murderer of her family. She hid behind a
nearby chimney and waited. After a couple minutes he extinguished his cigarette
and walked into his room. The light inside went out and Odette made her move,
she jumped onto the balcony and slowly slid the unlocked sliding door open. She
found the man apparently asleep on couch, she unsheathed her knife and almost
plunged it into the man’s heart when he caught her wrist and forced her on to
the ground,
“I knew you would come back for me, Odette Chevalier.”
He said slowly “I have been waiting for eighteen years.”
“Why did you kill my family?” she head-locked him and
forced him to answer.
“I knew that your family had a dark secret. They could
perform sorcery, why do you think your plants grow so well, even when they have
not been watered for days?”
Odette reflected, it was true, when she was in the
orphanage she kept a little pot with some dirt and a plant, regardless if it
had a seed or not, grew beautifully.
“I thought I had killed you too, but your mother was
protective. I read the newspaper the next day and realized that you had
survived. I waited out, waited until you would come to kill me. At least now, I
can finish my job.”
He revealed, with difficulty, a bomb from his pocket and pulled the pin
“I’ll see you in hell, witch!”
Before Odette could escape, the bomb went off and she
was consumed in the heat and flames…
“What a beautiful child.”
“My dear wife, she looks just like you, she has your
eyes.”
“Jacques, she does not look at all like me, she is more
like you. I bet she’ll have your abilities too.”
Jacques and his wife laughed brightly,
Odette opened her eyes, blackness surrounded her but she
saw images, she heard the couple laughing and saw a newborn in the mother's arms, her blue eyes smiled brightly, looking and realizing her parents. at the end of the bed, there was the patient's name:
Christine Chevalier
Spouse: Jacques Chevalier, IV
Mother? Father? She shed a few tears. Another image came into view, the parents were walking in
an entry way of a grand house, “Rémy, Charlotte come down and meet your new sister.”
Two children, the boy with green eyes, and the girl with
blue eyes looked curiously at the infant.
The mother spoke, unable to hold her smile back “Say
hello to Odette.”
I had siblings?
Odette closed her eyes again, smiling, hoping that God
would be gracious and allow her to be with her family, until new, unknown and indistinguishable voices caught her ears.
“My bowl has cracked!”
“What can that mean?”
“I can only see chaos!”
“The Alizar has arrived.”
What are these
people saying? It sounds like a form of English, but nothing I've ever heard. Odette
tried to hear more but the voices ceased and she felt herself lying gently, on cold ground. All she wanted to do was wake up and find herself on her floor
in her apartment but she could neither hear the cars honk nor the birds chirp
in the morning.
She opened her eyes slowly and found herself on hard
ground underneath a large tree; the roots grew out of the fresh dirt, so large they could
provide shelter for fifteen people.
“What
is this place?”
She looked around, confused and felt as if she was
losing her mind. “Why is this happening to me?” she cried out in English, birds flew from their resting place at the sound of her yells.
Frantic, she checked
her waist, Okay; I have my sword… but…
“My
knife!” she gasped, she looked to the ground and saw her Celtic blade knife
lying quietly where she landed. She bent to pick it up when a sword, not hers,
rammed into the ground, inches from her covered fingers. She leapt back and
unsheathed her own sword, and faced the threat.
A man held his sword
at arm’s length and spoke in the language she could not understand “Drop the
sword.” He gestured at the weapon in her hand, she realized what he was talking about, she would not yield.
Odette held her blade against his, challenging him.
Their blades created sparks as they struck together
In French, knowing he could not understand
her, she said “Make me.” ...
No comments:
Post a Comment