arrival: dated June 2nd, 2012
Jun. 2nd, 2012 08:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sweetlittleorphanHaving to sign instructions to Max is a trial, especially in gloves, but I manage. It's a blessing, really that the Colemans have a little girl so desperate for a sister I can use the whining brat like a blunt object. She's annoying, but turning out to be a useful tool. Which reminds me, when we finish dragging the dead nun off the road, we'll need to hide the hammer. Details. Details. Maybe the playhouse? It's locked, we can find the key, John will have it in his office. And after I'll have to silence MAx. Ironic, since she can't talk, but that's not matter. It will be easy enough to keep the deaf brat in line. I just have to use the right story, convince her that this was the only way to keep the family together. And if that doesn't work, well, I'll threaten her, she'll go to jail to too. Devotion through fear. Devotion through love. Either will work now that the nun is out of the way.
And if Max still doesn't play along. Accidents happen every day.
I almost pull my back out, tugging the dead weight. Damn Sister Abigail and damn that bitch Kate. I like this place, I like my Daddy John. Kate thinks she's so special, with her dead-daughter roses and a husband that fucks her in the kitchen like a whore where everyone can see. But what does she know? Esther knows, Esther sees the way women throw themselves at John, like the oh-so-friendly neighbor with her talk of moving chairs and the way she practically stripped down in the snow for him. And the way he looked back at her. If he hasn’t fucked around on Kate already, he’s certainly thought about it. All those women he must know. But they don’t know, those women, any of them, that he's mine now. All mine, he just doesn’t know it yet. My Daddy, my beautiful Daddy John.
I almost panic when I hear the car, but we manage and I smile as Sister Abigail's body tumbles down the embankment. And when we go check her again, it appears she sin't quite dead yet. Easily fixed. Like the pigeon and a hammer's easier to manage than a rock. Barely worth mentioning, after all, skulls are such fragile things. With that done, I turn to Max, we need to get home before anyone misses us and I need to change from these clothes. But then everything lurches. There's a twist in my gut and and my vision blurs until I look up and see... a window? A window with water outside and it shouldn't be raining. If anything it should be snowing.
It isn't a window. The water is pressed against it, all the way to the ceiling and I stumble back.
I'm underwater. In some kind of (prison) aquarium. “Max!” I'm covered in blood in an aquarium and where is that brat?! What was this? Am I hallucinating, like when I was in chains and drugged until I couldn't see? Kate. Kate. Has she somehow... no. Kate's a dumb, alcoholic bitch who, holding onto the idea that she can still have a little girl to replace the one she killed in utero. She won't know about the Institute, about Leena, and Sister fucking Abigail doesn't know either, none of them do. They can’t. How can they?
I'm fighting to keep from banging my head against the window, from taking the hammer and smashing through it. I'm fighting the rising panic and fear. They don’t know, they can’t know, none of them ever have in the past. Stupid American women so desperate for children that they don’t look closely when one's available, too stupid to see that their husbands don’t love them anymore, they love me. They always love me.
“MAX!” I'm a fool, shouting for a deaf girl, but there's nothing but the echo of my voice and I have to stop. Whatever this is, I'm alone. I don't know how, I don't know why, but others will come soon. Always did. Men and women who will would try to make sense of it all. And I need to be calm for it. I need a story. A ruse. And some way to explain all this blood unless I can find other clothing. Wiping at my face, I head back to the wall of glass, stripping off my gloves so I can clean off my face. I'll would think of something, I always do and the “adults” always believed me. I'm just a little girl after all. They will take me in, take me back to my John or take me somewhere else. They will want to take care of little helpless me.
Maybe there will be a new Daddy to love me, a better Daddy. One who will love her back like John does. One without a bitch of a wife or more irritating children.
I actually like that thought and as I clean the nun’s blood off my face, I decide to sing a little in the strange silence around me:
“You’ve got to laugh a little, cry a little, let the clouds roll by a little. That’s the story of, that’s the glory of love....”
And if Max still doesn't play along. Accidents happen every day.
I almost pull my back out, tugging the dead weight. Damn Sister Abigail and damn that bitch Kate. I like this place, I like my Daddy John. Kate thinks she's so special, with her dead-daughter roses and a husband that fucks her in the kitchen like a whore where everyone can see. But what does she know? Esther knows, Esther sees the way women throw themselves at John, like the oh-so-friendly neighbor with her talk of moving chairs and the way she practically stripped down in the snow for him. And the way he looked back at her. If he hasn’t fucked around on Kate already, he’s certainly thought about it. All those women he must know. But they don’t know, those women, any of them, that he's mine now. All mine, he just doesn’t know it yet. My Daddy, my beautiful Daddy John.
I almost panic when I hear the car, but we manage and I smile as Sister Abigail's body tumbles down the embankment. And when we go check her again, it appears she sin't quite dead yet. Easily fixed. Like the pigeon and a hammer's easier to manage than a rock. Barely worth mentioning, after all, skulls are such fragile things. With that done, I turn to Max, we need to get home before anyone misses us and I need to change from these clothes. But then everything lurches. There's a twist in my gut and and my vision blurs until I look up and see... a window? A window with water outside and it shouldn't be raining. If anything it should be snowing.
It isn't a window. The water is pressed against it, all the way to the ceiling and I stumble back.
I'm underwater. In some kind of (prison) aquarium. “Max!” I'm covered in blood in an aquarium and where is that brat?! What was this? Am I hallucinating, like when I was in chains and drugged until I couldn't see? Kate. Kate. Has she somehow... no. Kate's a dumb, alcoholic bitch who, holding onto the idea that she can still have a little girl to replace the one she killed in utero. She won't know about the Institute, about Leena, and Sister fucking Abigail doesn't know either, none of them do. They can’t. How can they?
I'm fighting to keep from banging my head against the window, from taking the hammer and smashing through it. I'm fighting the rising panic and fear. They don’t know, they can’t know, none of them ever have in the past. Stupid American women so desperate for children that they don’t look closely when one's available, too stupid to see that their husbands don’t love them anymore, they love me. They always love me.
“MAX!” I'm a fool, shouting for a deaf girl, but there's nothing but the echo of my voice and I have to stop. Whatever this is, I'm alone. I don't know how, I don't know why, but others will come soon. Always did. Men and women who will would try to make sense of it all. And I need to be calm for it. I need a story. A ruse. And some way to explain all this blood unless I can find other clothing. Wiping at my face, I head back to the wall of glass, stripping off my gloves so I can clean off my face. I'll would think of something, I always do and the “adults” always believed me. I'm just a little girl after all. They will take me in, take me back to my John or take me somewhere else. They will want to take care of little helpless me.
Maybe there will be a new Daddy to love me, a better Daddy. One who will love her back like John does. One without a bitch of a wife or more irritating children.
I actually like that thought and as I clean the nun’s blood off my face, I decide to sing a little in the strange silence around me:
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 03:53 am (UTC)She passed one of the broken down vending machines that sprang to life, playing tinny music and proclaiming its wares. As the sound died down, she heard something else, farther off.
The voice was high, child like, and female, but it was missing the dreamy sweetness of the Little Sisters. She took her rifle off her should, checked the corners, checked the shadows and the stairs, then started at a soft footed clip down the corridor, with its expansive views of the sea.
"Hello?" she called.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 04:04 am (UTC)There are boxes nearby I can crouch behind and I take cover there. If the person goes away, all the better, but if she comes close, the light is dim enough to take advantage of. Gripping the hammer, I decided to wait her out. Let the voice make the next move.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 04:43 am (UTC)"Hello, is someone there?"
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 04:56 am (UTC)And my heart nearly stops. Kate. Can't be. The face and the voice, but the accent...? I don't know what's going on here? But if it is Kate, she can take me to John. What ever I tell her, whatever she thinks, John will believe me and make sure that any police or social workers believe me, too. Because he loves me.
That makes my decision easy. John will protect me and we will be together. I slide the hammer into the belt loop of my dress, hiding it under my coat and I take another breath, stepping from behind the boxes. I'm still in shadow, and when I hunch as if scared, I'm even smaller, but if it's Kate she'll know it's me.
"Mommy, is that you? Someone was chasing me Mommy, he tried to hurt me, but I got away. Can we go home to Daddy now?"
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 05:26 am (UTC)Who was calling her 'mommy'.
"...Do not be scared. I am sorry," she said carefully, starting closer, "you are hurt? Were you hurt down here? I will take you, some place safe."
no subject
Date: 2012-06-03 05:35 am (UTC)"I want Daddy." True in more way than one. This woman is like a ghost, like... a hallucination. I can't... this place, it isn't Saarne, but there's something wrong. "If you're Mommy, take me to Daddy, please."
no subject
Date: 2012-06-05 04:34 pm (UTC)"Nyet," she said gently, "am not your mother. But I will help you find them, yes? Come, little one, we must leave this place."
no subject
Date: 2012-06-05 04:40 pm (UTC)I run.
There is a hall nearby, I don't know where it goes, but it's leads away from the woman and right now, that's the important thing. The rest I will sort later.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-05 05:01 pm (UTC)"Stop! Is dangerous! I no will hurt you, do not- Shit," she muttered in Russian, lightly vaulting the twisted and overturned section of what had once been a receptionist's desk.
"Please, you do not know! Little girl, stop!"
no subject
Date: 2012-06-05 05:07 pm (UTC)Until then, I run through a doorway and find myself... on a street. As large as any city's, lined with buildings like a town. What is this place? I need more time.
One direction seems much like another and I run down the block.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-05 07:31 pm (UTC)"Is dangerous down here, please! Do no- bozhe moi," she bit out, stopping short. She hated the Promenade, hated it. It was a sniper's nightmare. She started at a run again, looking for signs up upset debris and footprints. She caught a glimpse of a small coat and sped up.
"Wait!"
no subject
Date: 2012-06-05 08:34 pm (UTC)Looking around, I see something that looks like a giant syringe. Empty, but long and sharp-looking. In a place this big, there will be plenty of places to hide bodies. But do I take the chance? She could be known, others would come. But even if they found out, I am just a scared child. I was defending myself.
Smiling, I scoop up the device and turn, ready to fight when something catches my attention. A grate, with a scrap of fabric attached, as if something caught. Looking behind me, I judge enough time to look closer.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-06 05:34 pm (UTC)"I am sorry," she said, raising her voice, hating that she had to do so because what if Cohen heard, "that I am not your mother. I promise I will help, if only you will come. Is not safe here."
She stopped as she passed a corner and spotted the girl- dark coat, dark hair, slight frame, one of the ADAM or EVE hypos in hand, facing what looked like a decorative metal grate beneath a hole lined in brass.
"Stop!"
no subject
Date: 2012-06-06 08:04 pm (UTC)"Leave me alone! Don't hurt me!"
My decision is easy. Killing leaves too many complications, too many things and ends to clean up. Until I know more about this place and the people here, I cannot take those chances. Pulling open the grate, I pull myself inside, hoping I am fast enough to go far enough that the blonde Kate-woman can't pull me out.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-06 08:10 pm (UTC)"No!" Natalya cried with genuine fear, rushing forward, sliding the last two feet on her knees and catching the grate- but far too late. The girl moved fast.
"No, please," she gasped, "you are in danger here. Come- oh, God damn it," she swore in Russian.
She had to get a team down there immediately. She pulled the radio from her hip, but before she used it to hail the surface, she leaned down, peering into the dark.
"Please, stay here. If you disappear deeper into city there is grave danger. Please," she said then sat back, frustrated, and stood.
"This is Zamyatin. Contact IBI and head of IPD, I am need assistance."