+1+
Murder
I could not bring myself to continue the pain. The messy heart wrenching loss of life. I had a clean conscious and I refuse to let Victor ruin it. He wanted to ruin me as I'd ruined him.
I couldn't let someone else's blood stain my hands.
my conscious was clear and it had to stay that way.
There had to be another way.
Lucie reached out and let the doors to the wardrobe fall open. Once I was on my feet I looked back to see Lucie still concealed in the darkness. There was nothing she could do. sadness real helplessness was etched onto her face.
"Good-bye", I whispered.
The doors to the wardrobe closed and she faded into the darkness.
I made my way out to the dark hall, feeling along till I reached the light at the end of the hallway. Soon I was standing where my hotel room was. The hallway was empty and I stepped over a bullet, my heart almost giving out.
I stole into the hotel room and looked around for the few things I had brought in with me. Throwing everything to the floor till I found what I was looking for.
My Rosalie was still in there somewhere and I would find her.
I made my way to the service elevator that the bell man had used to bring up our luggage. on the short trip down I was suddenly aware that the bloody scissors were still in my hand.
The elevator opened to the back of the main hall. From where I was standing I could see Victor looking as strict and handsome as he did in that painting. His eyes slowly shifted around the room.
He was standing close to my daughter, his hand wound tightly around hers. She didn't look like she was in pain but that was because she didn't know what she was missing.
“Rosalie”, said Victor, “Look who’s here.”
She looked at me , her eyes blank but I knew she was still there.
“So many choices Clara, are you ready to become a murderer to
save a daughter who never even loved you? Or will you let me have her ? think of all the terror we could
cause together. . . .
"Rosalie . . . please look at me.". I said.
She kept her eyes forward, Victor's expression lightened at my words.
"What is in a name, Clara ?", he said, "She's not a real child so stop treating her as one, but when she is older she will make the perfect, beautiful and unique host. Besides she has given me so much already."
"Rosalie, please. . . we have to finish our book. Please Rosalie let me read it to you"
I gripped the tattered book in my hands, flipping through the pages she had colored in till I came to the last page. I thought of the nights Rose and I had spent curled up reading.
When she saw the book she moved one step closer to me. I placed the pink bookmark ribbon at the last page and I began to read to her.
". . .She would keep, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and she would gather other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, of Wonderland of long ago: and how Alice would find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days . . . . the end. "
She listened to the words, something very quick and optimistic consumed her bleak expression but then she was lost again.
"Please comeback to me Rosalie. . . I'm sorry. I will love you the way are . . . just come to me.", I said
"That won't work, Clara" he taunted me pulling Rosalie back to him.
"Please, Rose, please wake up."
"You have to let her go Clara, after all this isn't the daughter you want."
"Yes it is"
"Not it's not, this is the daughter you want."
He reached down and touched her with his other hand and though nothing changed I began to have Deja vu. The Rosalie infront of me was the same Rosalie but different.
It was as if I hadn't seen her in a long time and she was just there.
She was bright, loving. . . she had a soul.
She broke from her trance and he let her go. Rosalie ran to me terrified of what she didn't understand. I could love her, I could protect her.
"Mommy I don't want to go back. I want to be a real girl"
"I know, I know"
"I want to be real"
+2+
I leaned against the wall, lost in the cast of the shadows by the base of the stairs.
Clutching the clotting stab wound on my arm.The eerie silence of the hotel was broken by Ms. DeLune’s sobs. Clutching her real daughter for the first time. Blood from the cuts on her hands staining the girls dress. I watched her hand carefully, how she clutched the sharp scissors.
She continued to beg Victor, giving him exactly what he wanted all along.
To make her suffer
“Please”, she continued, “Just give me my daughter”
Victor scoffed.
“I begged for my life when I was murdered, no one cared
about me. Why should I give you the satisfaction ? You can either kill someone human, like your darling Mr. Fierro, to give your daughter a soul or you can let her come with me."
“No”
"You make it sound as if that is an option. My God ,you should be thrilled I'm saving your bastard child from the hands of your father."
I stood in the dark, the small pistol still in my hand. I could make the choice for her
Now that Rosalie temporarily had a soul I could kill her. Saving Clara from committing a crime and saving Rosalie from Victor . . . but taking her from her mother.
Or I could let Ms. DeLune kill me granting her daughter a permanent soul. . .
Or I could kill Ms. DeLune. before she killed me.
Or I could do nothing and let Victor take the girl.
. . . .if you leave here you will never comeback .If you leave you will be forced to make one of the hardest decisions of your life
I remember Lucie’s last words to me in stride.
Death and misery are what follow me now, but they didn’t
have to follow her. She was a child and death I imagined would not suit her. I saw the cruel glint in Victor's eyes, I couldn't let him take her.
I stepped out of the shadow, Victor eye’s met me and I knew he had known me to be standing there all along.
“Please, Ms. DeLune let me do this”, my voice trembled
“No don’t”, she begged me still clinging to her soul-filled child.
“This can end here, Clara, her blood will be on my hands… not yours. I understand you will never love me afterward but I pray you will at least forgive me.”
She shook her head, her arms still wrapped around Rosalie.
“I would never forgive you.”
"Don't let him do it", Victor said causing her to waver, "Kill him before he kills your only child."
"I can't ", she was getting weak.
"Fine' Clara" Victor continued to speak, "then I guess it is time to go Rosalie.. Addison I'm sure you know how it is watching people die because of your ghosts. What is it your father is always saying Clara ? that everyone has to suffer because you couldn't keep your legs together."
"Shut Up", she screamed to him.
She had fallen to her knees everything she had left resonated with one fact, she wanted to save Rosalie. She wanted to give her the second chance that she had received.
I stepped closer placing the gun on the ground,
"It's alright", I said, "Give her your soul by murdering me."
"No"
"Yes", I corrected her, "Victor can keep the soul he took and you will give up yours. .. you will never be able to die. You will be forced to watch everyone you ever loved die including me.", I turned to Victor, "Will that be enough. Will you leave us alone then ?"
Victor smiled and nodded.
Rosalie stepped away from her mother, helping her to stand. Hand in hand the pair walked towards me. She still clutched the silver scissors till she was only inches from me. She held them firmly by the center, tracing the tip over where my still beating heart was.
"Why ?", she asked, "why would you let me do this"
"What were you going to tell me before we blacked out."
It didn't take long for her to suddenly remember. She loosened her hand from Rosalie and placed it on my shoulder giving herself leverage.
"I was going to tell you that--that Rosalie is our daughter. . . I was going to tell you that you're her father."
"Then that will be my reason. I want Rosalie to grow old and tired of this world one day and be able to find herself in the place where we fell in love. The day she dies will be the happiest day of my life."
"I can't"
"You can, and this time you can ensure that I truly am dead."
"No"
"I beg you"
I flinched as her hand tensed, realizing I could just as easily force myself onto the blade.
“No, you aren't leaving me again. I don't want you to be alone any more. Either one of us is alone any more No man is an island unto itself.. . your death diminishes me. We're a family."
Victor smiled living off the chaos and fear he had caused. He was triumphant watching Ms. DeLune cling to her innocence, her human daughter. Both of which he would never let her keep for very long.
"I can't", she said
Victor approached Rosalie ready to take what he felt was his. He lightly touched her face taking back what he had briefly given to her.
My eyes were drawn to the top of the stairs where Lucie was standing.
She didn't move from her spot on the staircase, instead she was holding out her hands. Entwining the fingers of her two hands to create a heart. The familiar gesture I'd noticed in India. She was trying to tell me something. After repeating the gesture I understood her meaning.
She blew me a kiss and disappeared.
“Victor", I called to him, let me offer you a compromise"
"Compromise"
"I offer you a chance to ruin two lives instead of one"
His interest was perked
"Let's hear it"
"Ms. DeLune and I will kill an innocent person, together. Giving Rosalie half of each of our souls to make a whole. In time we will both bury the only child we will ever have.Watch our friends and family leave us. Forever living till the end of days . . . with you as our only constant companion."
Victor closed he eyes, there was complete silence but he turned his attention to the staircase then back to us.
“Oh, Lucie”, Victor whispered, “You always ruin my fun but I always have an ace up my sleeve. I accept your compromise. . .Are you ready to stain your pure heart Ms. Clara? To commit the mortal sin ?”
She dropped the scissors disgusted at the choice I'd forced her to make.
"You're not alone in this", I reminded her.
She watched Rosalie listlessly shifting through the tattered novel, dreaming of being a real girl.
“Yes, I'm ready”
+3+
It was still raining when the doors to the St. Mark opened and the tired man
entered the hotel to shield himself from the rain. I almost felt sorry for him, he didn’t realize he would not be checking out.
He tossed his rain coat and kept his brim down low. He called for service in the vacant hotel but no one would answer him. The man stood puzzled waiting for someone, anyone. It was too silent but still he stayed
Stupid humans.
The man huffed in confusion and rang the bell to receive service. The minute he rang that bell the countdown began.
The man didn’t hear the couple appear from behind him. It was his last moments and he was oblivious to it all.
He didn’t turn to see the woman’s ugly tears as she knew the man’s fate, as she anticipated what she and her companion were to do next.
The only way to end the terror and the pain was to pass it to someone else.
The man didn't watch as another pale hand worked it's way around the woman's the pair of hands firmly held around the trigger.
A little pressure
That was all.
One
Two
Three
Shots knocking on the door of unhappiness.
The woman didn’t stay afterward she turned disgusted at this
final act to save her child. She found solace in a dark corner on the second floor where she gave into a weary sleep.
The pale man however.
He stayed.
Watching the body as it feel to the floor and stilled.
Something tugged at the pale man as he carried the lithe body to the dumpster. A light rain started to fall an although he should not have he turned to look at the dead man. A pair of blank green eyes meet his. The pale man looked in my direction now aware of my deceit.
I smiled
The pale man took the dead man's hat and placed it over his face, then taking time remove the diamond engagement ring in the dead man's pocket. He admired the way the one-of-a-kind ring sparkled in the dusk light.
" Good-night, sweet prince may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest", the living said to the dead Prince Peter Morrati
The hotel was old and it had a history, it had stood for a long time and had seen the death of nearly one member of the Bordeaux family tree every 50 years. As my dear Paris burned the St. Mark was moved brick by brick to hideous mother Britain.
Locals knew the hotel to still be haunted, only the macabre and curious would dare to stay here. I wondered back to room 127 where I had been murdered and reflected
For generations the Bordeaux family has sacrificed their own to rule the land of the dead.
Ha.
c'est la vie, let the Morratti Monarch reign now.
The only way to end the terror and the pain was to pass it to someone else.
For tonight maybe enough blood had been shed.
+++
Chapter 16 >>