“What do you see?”
“I'm
falling… the sky is black and the moon is red. It's beautiful. There's
no ground… I'm just falling into nothing. I don't feel scared, I
actually feel strangely free. The wind is rushing through my hair; my
eyes… my face… my arms… my legs… my body itself.. I can't feel them; but
I can see. Wait… I'm starting to see ground.”
"What does the ground look like?"
"It's… brown… and… watery? It looks like… tea? An ocean of tea?"
"Are you falling towards the ocean?"
"Yes.
Yes I am. Wait… something's changing… I'm… I'm standing… in a park…
it's noise and there are people all about: a protest. My mother and my
father are standing next to me… shouting… arguing against something… not
to themselves… they don't even notice each other... Oh god!"
"What's wrong?"
"People in black are coming! They're taking them away! Mother, father! Don't leave me!"
Suddenly,
the young, tall and slender woman opened her watery pale blue eyes. Her
breathing was ragged and her heart was frantic; but luckily she was
back in reality; back in her therapy. She saw the worried eyes and the
gentle smile of her therapist. She began to take deep calm breaths and
she relaxed back in the armchair.
"Loki?" asked the therapist, "were you thinking about that protest?"
Loki
looked down at the oak ground; her shaggy, neck-length, gingery hair
veiled her creamy white slender face. She could feel streams of tears
trickle down her face, onto her long and slender black jeaned legs. She
held herself with her long and thin creamy-white arms. She began to weep
-- she was damaged from the past.
"Loki," said the therapist. "You've got to let that go -- it did not happen."
"I
know what happened!" protested Loki, "my parents were taken away. This
happened a year ago! I was eighteen and this was in the Summer! This
happened at Victoria park!" She stood up from her seat; tears still
running down her face. "I'm not going mad! I know what happened! Why
can't you believe me?"
The therapist sighed.
"You're making things up in your head. Your parents could have left you
and your mind couldn't have comprehended it. Thus altering your memories
to give you comfort."
"My parents would never
leave me!" snarled Loki. "Not my mother, and certainly not my father!
They wouldn't leave me, nor my brother!"
"Loki," said the therapist. "You're stressing out your mind. Please calm down and accept the reality of the situation."
"I
don't see why I'm even here if you won't believe me!" Loki wiped the
sorrowful tears from her eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my
leave!" She began to walk out of the room in a fit of rage. She
violently opened the dark oak door, and she slammed it behind her with a
heart of anger. She stormed out of the accursed place, onto the dark
and looming streets of the city. Grey clouds were swirling above: a
storm was coming, two storms in fact. One literal and one emotional.
Loki
put her black hoodie up on her head of gingery hair; still enraged and
weeping. She hated it when people told her that she was not right,
probably one of the great reasons why she hated people.
Her
heart felt like it was ripped apart -- torn in two halves. Her
therapist would always tell her that she was wrong, that she was “making
it up.” Loki never attended a full session, not once in a year. She
would always storm off; sometimes even claiming she had someplace to be.
Loki was never known for fits of rage. In fact
she was known for being the happy-go-lucky kind of crazy girl that would
be seen outside at the crack of dawn wearing nothing but a horse mask
and a leather suit while her friends recorded her dancing in the middle
of the streets. She was always the friend who tried to make people
happy, who was the shoulder to cry on, who was the person for a warm
hug; but ever since the “mysterious” disappearance of her parents, she
had been different (as you will get to see in this damnable story.)
She
proceeded down the streets; and she felt droplets of rain tapping
against herself. It tickled the tip of her nose and it poked her
hoodie-covered body. She was not in the mood for rain, nor was she in
the mood for company. She kept her head bowed; keeping her gingery hair
and her dark hood veiling her angered face. She tried to stop herself
from crying, but it made her choked up and it made the cry flow like a
river. Some people glanced and glared at her; but they went on their own
businesses.
Loki walked on, crying and choking
up. She felt a gagging sensation in the back of her throat and a needle
drive through her heart. The needle made her heart quicken and cry as
well. She still walked on, trying to make herself stop. The rain was
pouring buckets; the people began to disappear off of the streets, or
they began to shroud themselves with umbrellas.
Loki
soon made her way to the stone steps of an apartment building: only
five stories high and it was constructed with grey bricks, and it looked
old, but it still looked strong and livable. She still cried her eyes
out; it made them sore. She kept them squinted, barely seeing what was
in front of herself. She sat down on the cold and wet step and she hid
her face underneath her hands. She began to take deep and calming
breaths, trying to slow her heart down, and to stop her eyes from
leaking.
The rain was pouring even harder; it
drenched Loki's dark clothes and it made her gingery hair soak
underneath her hood. She began to calm down. Her crying was washed out
by the sound of the rain slapping the concrete floor. She took a deep
breath; and she made her way into the apartment.
The
inside was dry; but Loki was still soaked with the rain, and it
trickled off of her slender body. Nonetheless, she made her way towards
the pale, dry stairwell. She walked up it; making a squishing
sound each time she advanced up the steps with her black sneakers. She
shivered and she shaked in her dark clothes, the water was clawing up
her creamy skin and it made her cold as winter.
She
made her way up to the fourth floor of the building, where she found a
long, beige hallway with dark green carpets. She kept her arms close to
herself and she still shivered in her hoodie and her jeans. She slowly
crawled down to the second door on the left; she leaned in and she
turned the door open. She slowly crept into the room -- it was warm, and
it made Loki feel safe: it was home, it was a sanctuary.
She
unzipped her drenched hoodie and she threw it off to the side. Her
white shirt underneath was drowned. She sat down on the wooden stool,
just waiting beside the door. She unlaced her sneakers and she kicked
them off. Her black socks were soaked to the toe, she kicked them off
too.
She stood up from her stool; she proceeded
further into her sanctuary. She looked about to find the most important
thing in her life -- the only thing keeping her sane.
"Boo
bear?" she called out. "Honey? Where are you?" She still searched
around; she made her way into her bedroom to see wrapped underneath
sheets and blankets on a queen-sized bed was a body. She gave a sigh;
she watched the body raise and fall down ever so slightly in its
blissful sleep.
Loki sat at the edge of the bed.
She still admired the body, and some tears fell from her eyes, and they
shattered on the bed. A smile rose upon her slender face; but her eyes
were still glassy, but they looked so happy just to see the body asleep.
She clawed into the bed, still wet with rain. She did not touch the
body: she did not want it to wake, especially with the discomfort of the
freezing rain. She tried to erase her breath, keeping it silent like
the wind.
The body turned towards Loki and it
burrowed out from the covers, opening its shimmering hazel brown eyes.
The body was a beautiful woman, around Loki's age. She had soft, pale
skin; on her left wrist there was a black tattoo of an anchor; she had a
beautiful curvaceous figure; and she had beautiful, long and wavy nutty
brown hair that reached down to the middle of her supple back. She
looked up at Loki with a warm smile, but it was soon gone: she could
tell that Loki was upset.
"What's wrong, Boo?"
she sat up from the bed, and she hugged Loki so softly, and so
embracingly, regardless of her soaking wet state.
Loki
wrapped her arms around her beautiful body and she rested her head upon
her chest, listening to her heartbeat: it was a strange sense of
comfort to the ginger. "I'm fine, Vada…" she muttered, closing her eyes,
just listening to her heartbeat -- its tempo was increasing; Loki could
easily deduce that Vada was worried.
Vada stroked Loki's back to comfort her. "Please… Boo… Tell me what's wrong…" She seemed shaky, like she was the troubled one.
Loki
looked up into Vada's worried eyes. She softly kissed her upon her
succulent lips, and she stood up from the bed. "I'll make us breakfast.
I've been up for quite some time." She slowly walked from the bedroom;
but before she left Vada said one more thing.
"Loki, how long have you been up for?" she asked. "What's the time?"
Loki
sighed and she dropped her shoulders; she looked back at her worried
love, trying to smile. Trying to keep a mask on to not make her love
worry. "I'll be fine. What do you want to eat?"
Vada
stood up from the bed with sheets wrapped around her body. The
worriment was painted across her face. She walked up to her love -- her
head was only up to the ginger's chest -- and she hugged her tightly.
"Please tell me what's wrong! I've known you for three years, and I know
when you're upset. Now can you please tell me what's wrong!"
Loki
sighed; she dropped her head down, making her gingery hair veiling her
face. "I can't…" she muttered. "I… I just can't… I… I love you." She
gave her a gentle kiss upon her forehead; her breathing was heavy and
ragged, it was even broken, like she was, like shattered glass.
"I
love you too," said Vada; gazing into Loki's sorrowful pale blue eyes.
She leaned in forwards towards the shattered ginger and she kiss her
upon her pale lips.
They locked lips in a union
of romance and beauty. Their hearts were as one and they made a
beautiful picture together with this beauty of theirs; but Loki's tears
trickled down her face. They were cold, and sad tears. Loki pulled Vada
in closer to herself, still keeping her pale lips locked with her
succulent lips in a passionate embrace. She tried to hide her sorrow
with the passion, the seductive love; but Vada broke it apart. She
stepped back from the kiss and she held her ginger tight to herself. She
rested her head upon Loki's chest and she took a deep breath. She heard
her heartbeat thumping in her chest: it was accelerated, agitated.
"Loki," whispered Vada, "why can't you tell me what's wrong? Is it your parents?"
Loki
shuddered in worriment; she held the brunette close to her heart. "I
don't want to lose you like I lost them." She kept her hand on the back
of her head and she gently stroked it. The tears trickled down her face
like waterfalls. The thought of losing Vada was piercing Loki's heart
with sharp needles and foul claws. "I don't want to lose you at all… I
love you so much… It's actually ripping my heart apart just thinking
about it."
Vada held Loki tighter; a few rogue
tears fell from her beautiful hazel eyes. "Loki Michael Richard D'Alton,
you will never loose me, I love you too. I promise. I will always come
home to you, safe and sound." She looked up into Loki's eyes once more,
into her very soul. She could see how she was broken, how she was
shattered, but she also saw how she was still herself: funny, crazy,
sassy, passionate, romantic. She still knew her love was still her love,
and nothing was going to change that.
"Thank
you, Vada Rose," said Loki; she passionately kissed Vada's lips, soon
biting them for enjoyment. When she quickly finished, she rested her
chin upon the brunette's head, her hair was so soft. "And I promise I
will never leave you too… no matter what… I will always be there for
you, and I will always love you." She gently kissed the side of her
neck, wondrously smiling. She wished that moment would never end; but
alas, every moment must end, every song must silence, and every play
must finish.
Black Heart - The Black Velvet Band
There were icy blue-silvery eyes that seemed very wolfish
peering through the veil of darkness. They blazed in the darkness,
blazing like a warm kindling fire; but the fire seemed warm and kind,
not a hot and sinister flame. The young woman tried to walk towards the
eyes, curiosity got the better of her, but with each step she would take
the eyes would step away from her. They were so close, yet so far. They
moved like ash on the wind, It was strange. These eyes still kindled
like a candle on the windowsill, still warm on a winter’s night. The
darkness was ice cold around her; the eyes were her only salvation. She
began to run quicker, and quicker. She reached out towards, trying to
reach for the eyes. She was so close to the eyes, she could almost touch
whom they belonged to. But it was too late. A blinding light shone so
brightly like a twinkling sun, and she couldn’t feel anything.
Vada, who was a young fox woman, woke up on the creaking and groaning wooden floor on her ship sailing the great sea. The golden sunlight shone through her open window and it tickled her curvaceous light auburn furred body; it was young and beautiful. The smell of salt hung high in the hair and the brushing of the sea was against her ship. It was only a dream. A dream that still lingered in her mind. Those wolfish eyes were a mystery to her. This wasn’t the first time she had this bizarre dream. She started having it when her last birthday had struck at noon, about a few months in the past.
Her calm blue-teal eyes that sparkled like sapphires quickly glanced around the room and her long brown hair was tangled in knots. An anchor tattoo was inked on her thin wrist and a rose tattoo was inked on her shapely stomach. She gave a deep sigh. She was almost to her destination, to the grand city of Nona, to a new start. But one of the biggest issues was her mother and her father. They still hung on to her so tightly like she was still a helpless child. Vada was a young woman, about twenty-six years in age. It was ridiculous that her parents kept a close eye on her. It drove her to the brink of insanity.
She laid on the shifting floor for a minute or so, still barely waking up. Then she heard a knock on her door.
“Vada!” A shrilling voice cried out. “Are you up yet?”
Vada scowled then she mumbled and moaned on the floor. She didn’t want to rise up that morning. She didn’t want to see her folks anymore. She wished she was as free as a careless bird, or a soaring mermaid upon the open sea. She loved the sea, she loved to sail and swim.
But alas, she was trapped by shackles of her family. A maddening prison set by her parents - her mother to be precise. She hoped one day her hero would save her from her tower of hell and give her the freedom she so badly wanted.
Vada just laid on the floor, not responding to the cries of the shrilling voice. She was still moaning like she had something wrong with her stomach or her mind.
“Vada! Get up!” the shrilling voice cried once more. “We’re almost there and I want you to be dressed and ready! You don’t want your family to look bad, do you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Vada moaned and she gave an exhausted sigh. She slowly sat up on her tush. She took a deep breath of the salty sea air. She sat down for a minute or so, analyzing the room once more. She looked at her queen-sized bed that was more than enough size for her to comfortably sleep on. The wardrobe made from a refined golden wood, only the rich would have the luxury to have the wood made into a wardrobe. The oversized mirror that had a fine golden trim that was tucked away in the back; and the silver-wood desk where she kept her expensive makeup and glimmering jewelry that her mother had bought her since she was a little child.
Despite being born and raised into such a rich family, getting almost anything she wanted that money could buy - anything but true love and freedom - she hated it, every single last expensive item that towered in her room with a menacing look. It was a struggle for her to keep on going with each day, and each day was getting tougher and tougher. The insanity would deeply creep into her mind with its menacing jaws, and the hatred towards her family would embed in her heart. Sweet death would be a release for this poor vixen. A terrible thought, but the truth nonetheless.
Her love would generally turn sour in her past, either her love would be too controlling of her like her parents or they would find a skank that her love would deem better than Vada. It was a sad tale for this vixen, and she wanted it to end so badly. But the day would progress on, and she would feel like a slave in shackles.
Vada slowly took a deep breath, trying to embrace herself for the big day, entering the grand city of Nona. The beginning of her new life. To her it wasn’t a new life. To her it was just the same old life in a different city. The same shit but different pile. She gradually stood up on the moaning floor and she stumbled towards her golden wardrobe. She swung the doors of her wardrobe wide open and she inspected the elegant clothes she had hanging up in her wardrobe. She pulled from there a creamy white blouse that didn’t have a single crease or wrinkle on it. It was a beautiful blouse, but Vada saw it as just a regular old blouse. Either way, she began to put it on, slipping her arms through and buttoning up until the last button, where she left it loose. It felt soft as wool and it looked elegant like a swan.
Vada sluggishly got dressed in her clothes that her mother demanded that she would wear for this exciting moment: an aquamarine dress made from vibrant silks that showed the importance and the wealth of her family, a beautiful necklace with a chain of moonlight silver with a deep blue sapphire jewel that resembled a heart, she called it her Heart of the Ocean, and a pair of prepossessing inky black leather boots that were finely crafted and only fit for a lady. But Vada added one final touch to her outfit: a black velvet band that she tied her hair with. She would always tie her hair back with that black velvet band ever since she was a little girl. The band was given to her one Christmas eve by a strange man who was veiled in shadows and mystery. Vada never knew who this man was or even what he looked like. He didn’t even speak a single word. The only thing she saw was a silver glint in his eyes and a warm passing through her heart.
It had been her mother’s dream to move the family to the grand city of Nona. They could have done it any time, but she thought it wasn’t safe enough for a little girl. But since Vada was now a young woman - still a dog on her mother’s leash - her mother thought that the time was right to pursue her dream of Nona. Vada didn’t care that she was going to Nona, but she kept hope in her heart that she might one day meet a great guy in that grand city that would stick with her until the end of time. She knew that this would be so, she had a feeling, like a flickering candle burning in her heart, that she would find her true love.
She took one last deep breath and she closed her eyes. She thought about the silvery-blue eyes that kept popping up in her dreams and she thought that she might meet them in the grand city, giving her a glimmer of hope to an answer to whom the eyes belonged to. She opened her teal-blue eyes once more and she advanced out from her room into the new life her mother laid for her, the new place they would continue their lives of riches and false happiness. Buy it with money and wealth.
Vada proceeded onto the deck, past the crewmen who would give her a bow when she passed them, but she didn’t look up at them, she didn’t even notice them. She thought that these men were lazy as sailors. She thought that she could do their job twice as better than them. She was a sailor ever since she was a little girl. It was her fiery passion to sail the vast sea, and to not work on the ship she was trapped was a great insult to her. All she ever did was lock herself in her room away from her ghastly parents and just waited. The clock ticked in her mind and with each tick it drove her more insane. She just wanted to get the hell out of there, away from everything.
When she was aboard the deck she looked up at the pale blue sky - not a cloud was in sight. The smell of salt from the sea tickled her nose and the wind brushing through her fur. But the smell of salt soon turned into the heavy smell of burning coal and the skies became a light ash grey. She looked forth to see tall, looming, metropolitan buildings and dark heaps of smoke coming from tall stacks of chimneys. She saw the grand city of Nona, finally after a long journey of being stuck on the dainty little with her frustrating parents for weeks upon weeks she was finally at Nona. A small glimmer of happiness seeped through her heart; she would at least get a little space from her parents in this monstrous city.
She used to sneak out at night back in her old home when she turned into a young woman, a teenager. She would always be a child of the vibrant night. She would walked down the streets at the late hours, hanging either alone or with her old friends, but she would mostly go alone, and she would get up to little mischievous things. She would paint the town red with trouble. But she would not seem happy when she had to return to her real life, she didn’t even feel happy when she walked out underneath the full, luscious moon; but she needed to escape from her family and her only way to escape was to go out late at night, to keep the jaws of insanity from ensnaring her in their wrath.
She looked at the city as it got closer and closer. The buildings seemed to get taller and taller, like giants touching the sky. She was intrigued by the buildings, she had never seen any so ginormous before. She used to live in a big city before this, but the buildings were never as colossal as these ones in this vast city.
Vada began to hear footsteps coming from behind her. One dainty and one elegant. She gave a heavy sigh and she looked behind herself to see her parents, her mother and her father. Her mother was a vixen lady with silver hair and watchful green eyes. She wore a long, beautiful gown of elegant silks with lavish laces. Her father was an older fox gentleman with finely groomed nutty brown hair and content violet eyes. He wore a neatly pressed suit with a clean fedora hat on his head with a big ostrich feather sticking from the brim.
Vada looked at them discontentedly, not saying a single word. They began to advance towards her where her mother inspected her with watchful eyes.
“Vada,” she said trying to seem calm; a smile began to appear on her face to look presentable to whomever was waiting for them at the docks to bring them to their new home. “You’re going to act like a good girl when we get onto the dock and you’re going to do as we always do.”
Vada sighed. “Head high, don’t slouch, don’t look at the lower classes, don’t talk, don’t question, do as the Fletcher’s do.”
“Good,” her mother said with a gleam in her eye. “Now, let’s getting going to our carriage once the ship pulls into the port. I want to see our new house before the end of today.”
With another sigh Vada looked forth at the city; trying to ignore her parents for the time being. It wasn’t too long until their ship pulled in with grace into the noisy, messy port. Folk wearing dirty workmen clothing were all about rushing about, working on the port, trying to keep it functional and as neat as possible for their high and arriving guests.
In the heap of the commotion and the work there stood their large black carriage to take them away to their new home. It had a border of glimmering gold and it stood without a scratch, it was fit for a king - or the higher class people. The horses pulling the carriage were tall and black and they stood ready to pull the carriage out of the loud port. Beside the carriage stood a large fox man wearing a tall black top hat on his head and a clean, well-fitted suit on his body. He kept a blackwood cane in his hand.
The three Fletcher’s advanced out of their ship once it had completed docked. The father and the mother both walked arm-in-arm with their head high, their backs erect and they payed no attention to the lower working class. Vada walked behind them, taking short glances at what work had been going into this dock; the sweat on each of the folk’s brows and how much their arms ached from what labour they had been going through. She felt envious about these folks. She thought they were more free than she was. She still followed her parents, trying to head her head high and her back erect.
They kept a quick pace on their way to the carriage and to the large fox, who had rusty red fur and bright green eyes. He had black speckles on his snow white muzzle. His stomach was profound and a spherical shape, his cheeks were fleshy and his arms in his suit were meaty. He awaited for the Fletcher’s with a beaming smile upon his face.
“Hello, mister and misses Fletcher,” he bowed and he greeted. “Welcome to Nona. How was your tip from…”
“Fulgur,” said Vada’s father with a smile hoisted across his face. “It was a dismal journey, I’m just glad that we’re finally here.”
“Oh, how dreadful,” remarked Hunter gravely. “Yes, at least you’re here in Nona. Now, let’s get you two…” he looked behind them to see the shy and quiet Vada behind the two Fletcher’s. She didn’t make much eye contact nor did she say a single work. “Three of you will come with me in the carriage to your new home and we’ll pack up your things graciously and we’ll send them over to you.”
The parents just gave two simple nods. Vada, on the other hand, did nothing but keep a shy smile painted across her face. It was a facade to hide her true emotions: a bleeding hatred and a crippling depression. The three Fletchers made their way into the carriage with grace. Inside the large carriage where the seats were made of fine sapphire blue velvet and the ceiling was made from a vibrant glowing glass.
The father and the mother sat across from Vada, and Vada sat in silence across from them. She kept her head bowed to the dark ground. The coach was deadly silent, you could hear the ruckus from the outdoors clearly. The mother and the father just sat with their backs erect and their heads high.
With the crack of a whip the horses trotted out of the port: clippity-clop, clippity-clop. Vada looked out the tinted grey windows as she saw the port grow smaller and smaller, and the workers slowly becoming ants. She gave a hefty sigh as she looked out the window as the new city she would now be living in. She saw the tall buildings made from stone and steel. She saw the folks, who were in similar clothes as the workers were down at the docks: dirty and probably handcrafted.
As Vada looked out onto the busy streets she spotted a family of lizardfolk - a mother, a father, and two sons. They seemed so blissfully happy with each other. Vada felt trapped as her eyes lingered on the family. She couldn’t take her eyes off of their happiness. She looked back at the cold, dark ground and she gave deep sigh of depression. She closed her eyes, waiting for the carriage ride to reach their new home.
Each passing second would drag on to feel like a hellish hour. Her parents said nothing, not even a peep. The father looked around, sometimes at his wife, sometimes at Vada and sometimes out of the window. The mother just glared at Vada, like she was expecting her to do something terrible, something wrong.
Slowly the carriage ride passed on through the streets. The Fletcher’s could hear crescendos of voices overlapping each other and the stamping of the horses onto the stone streets outside of their coach. Vada laid back in her seat as she just looked up at the ceiling with bored eyes. She began to close them, but her mother seized her from doing that.
“Vada!” she barked menacingly. “Sit up straight and stay awake! We’re almost at our new house.”
Vada slowly did what her mother told her to do and she sighed. She looked at her mother with furious eyes, but she tried to remain expressionless. The tension inside the coach was terrible, almost as if you could cut it with a knife. But the tension slowly subsided as the streets slowly looked cleaner and the streets were paved in gold. They saw other carriages around that were neat and large like theirs. They saw few folk on the streets, but they wore elegant gowns and suits much like Vada and her parents. Her parents looked out at the new streets in amazement, but Vada couldn’t care less. To her it was just another prison cell for her to be held in.
The carriage slowly pulled up to a large white house, a mansion even, and the Fletcher’s all came out of their carriage to see this new place of theirs.
“This is great!” said Vada’s father. “Even much bigger than our old house!”
“Yeah!” said Vada’s mother; she began to walk towards their great new house as she looked in dazzling amazement at their grand house.
Vada, who was a young fox woman, woke up on the creaking and groaning wooden floor on her ship sailing the great sea. The golden sunlight shone through her open window and it tickled her curvaceous light auburn furred body; it was young and beautiful. The smell of salt hung high in the hair and the brushing of the sea was against her ship. It was only a dream. A dream that still lingered in her mind. Those wolfish eyes were a mystery to her. This wasn’t the first time she had this bizarre dream. She started having it when her last birthday had struck at noon, about a few months in the past.
Her calm blue-teal eyes that sparkled like sapphires quickly glanced around the room and her long brown hair was tangled in knots. An anchor tattoo was inked on her thin wrist and a rose tattoo was inked on her shapely stomach. She gave a deep sigh. She was almost to her destination, to the grand city of Nona, to a new start. But one of the biggest issues was her mother and her father. They still hung on to her so tightly like she was still a helpless child. Vada was a young woman, about twenty-six years in age. It was ridiculous that her parents kept a close eye on her. It drove her to the brink of insanity.
She laid on the shifting floor for a minute or so, still barely waking up. Then she heard a knock on her door.
“Vada!” A shrilling voice cried out. “Are you up yet?”
Vada scowled then she mumbled and moaned on the floor. She didn’t want to rise up that morning. She didn’t want to see her folks anymore. She wished she was as free as a careless bird, or a soaring mermaid upon the open sea. She loved the sea, she loved to sail and swim.
But alas, she was trapped by shackles of her family. A maddening prison set by her parents - her mother to be precise. She hoped one day her hero would save her from her tower of hell and give her the freedom she so badly wanted.
Vada just laid on the floor, not responding to the cries of the shrilling voice. She was still moaning like she had something wrong with her stomach or her mind.
“Vada! Get up!” the shrilling voice cried once more. “We’re almost there and I want you to be dressed and ready! You don’t want your family to look bad, do you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Vada moaned and she gave an exhausted sigh. She slowly sat up on her tush. She took a deep breath of the salty sea air. She sat down for a minute or so, analyzing the room once more. She looked at her queen-sized bed that was more than enough size for her to comfortably sleep on. The wardrobe made from a refined golden wood, only the rich would have the luxury to have the wood made into a wardrobe. The oversized mirror that had a fine golden trim that was tucked away in the back; and the silver-wood desk where she kept her expensive makeup and glimmering jewelry that her mother had bought her since she was a little child.
Despite being born and raised into such a rich family, getting almost anything she wanted that money could buy - anything but true love and freedom - she hated it, every single last expensive item that towered in her room with a menacing look. It was a struggle for her to keep on going with each day, and each day was getting tougher and tougher. The insanity would deeply creep into her mind with its menacing jaws, and the hatred towards her family would embed in her heart. Sweet death would be a release for this poor vixen. A terrible thought, but the truth nonetheless.
Her love would generally turn sour in her past, either her love would be too controlling of her like her parents or they would find a skank that her love would deem better than Vada. It was a sad tale for this vixen, and she wanted it to end so badly. But the day would progress on, and she would feel like a slave in shackles.
Vada slowly took a deep breath, trying to embrace herself for the big day, entering the grand city of Nona. The beginning of her new life. To her it wasn’t a new life. To her it was just the same old life in a different city. The same shit but different pile. She gradually stood up on the moaning floor and she stumbled towards her golden wardrobe. She swung the doors of her wardrobe wide open and she inspected the elegant clothes she had hanging up in her wardrobe. She pulled from there a creamy white blouse that didn’t have a single crease or wrinkle on it. It was a beautiful blouse, but Vada saw it as just a regular old blouse. Either way, she began to put it on, slipping her arms through and buttoning up until the last button, where she left it loose. It felt soft as wool and it looked elegant like a swan.
Vada sluggishly got dressed in her clothes that her mother demanded that she would wear for this exciting moment: an aquamarine dress made from vibrant silks that showed the importance and the wealth of her family, a beautiful necklace with a chain of moonlight silver with a deep blue sapphire jewel that resembled a heart, she called it her Heart of the Ocean, and a pair of prepossessing inky black leather boots that were finely crafted and only fit for a lady. But Vada added one final touch to her outfit: a black velvet band that she tied her hair with. She would always tie her hair back with that black velvet band ever since she was a little girl. The band was given to her one Christmas eve by a strange man who was veiled in shadows and mystery. Vada never knew who this man was or even what he looked like. He didn’t even speak a single word. The only thing she saw was a silver glint in his eyes and a warm passing through her heart.
It had been her mother’s dream to move the family to the grand city of Nona. They could have done it any time, but she thought it wasn’t safe enough for a little girl. But since Vada was now a young woman - still a dog on her mother’s leash - her mother thought that the time was right to pursue her dream of Nona. Vada didn’t care that she was going to Nona, but she kept hope in her heart that she might one day meet a great guy in that grand city that would stick with her until the end of time. She knew that this would be so, she had a feeling, like a flickering candle burning in her heart, that she would find her true love.
She took one last deep breath and she closed her eyes. She thought about the silvery-blue eyes that kept popping up in her dreams and she thought that she might meet them in the grand city, giving her a glimmer of hope to an answer to whom the eyes belonged to. She opened her teal-blue eyes once more and she advanced out from her room into the new life her mother laid for her, the new place they would continue their lives of riches and false happiness. Buy it with money and wealth.
Vada proceeded onto the deck, past the crewmen who would give her a bow when she passed them, but she didn’t look up at them, she didn’t even notice them. She thought that these men were lazy as sailors. She thought that she could do their job twice as better than them. She was a sailor ever since she was a little girl. It was her fiery passion to sail the vast sea, and to not work on the ship she was trapped was a great insult to her. All she ever did was lock herself in her room away from her ghastly parents and just waited. The clock ticked in her mind and with each tick it drove her more insane. She just wanted to get the hell out of there, away from everything.
When she was aboard the deck she looked up at the pale blue sky - not a cloud was in sight. The smell of salt from the sea tickled her nose and the wind brushing through her fur. But the smell of salt soon turned into the heavy smell of burning coal and the skies became a light ash grey. She looked forth to see tall, looming, metropolitan buildings and dark heaps of smoke coming from tall stacks of chimneys. She saw the grand city of Nona, finally after a long journey of being stuck on the dainty little with her frustrating parents for weeks upon weeks she was finally at Nona. A small glimmer of happiness seeped through her heart; she would at least get a little space from her parents in this monstrous city.
She used to sneak out at night back in her old home when she turned into a young woman, a teenager. She would always be a child of the vibrant night. She would walked down the streets at the late hours, hanging either alone or with her old friends, but she would mostly go alone, and she would get up to little mischievous things. She would paint the town red with trouble. But she would not seem happy when she had to return to her real life, she didn’t even feel happy when she walked out underneath the full, luscious moon; but she needed to escape from her family and her only way to escape was to go out late at night, to keep the jaws of insanity from ensnaring her in their wrath.
She looked at the city as it got closer and closer. The buildings seemed to get taller and taller, like giants touching the sky. She was intrigued by the buildings, she had never seen any so ginormous before. She used to live in a big city before this, but the buildings were never as colossal as these ones in this vast city.
Vada began to hear footsteps coming from behind her. One dainty and one elegant. She gave a heavy sigh and she looked behind herself to see her parents, her mother and her father. Her mother was a vixen lady with silver hair and watchful green eyes. She wore a long, beautiful gown of elegant silks with lavish laces. Her father was an older fox gentleman with finely groomed nutty brown hair and content violet eyes. He wore a neatly pressed suit with a clean fedora hat on his head with a big ostrich feather sticking from the brim.
Vada looked at them discontentedly, not saying a single word. They began to advance towards her where her mother inspected her with watchful eyes.
“Vada,” she said trying to seem calm; a smile began to appear on her face to look presentable to whomever was waiting for them at the docks to bring them to their new home. “You’re going to act like a good girl when we get onto the dock and you’re going to do as we always do.”
Vada sighed. “Head high, don’t slouch, don’t look at the lower classes, don’t talk, don’t question, do as the Fletcher’s do.”
“Good,” her mother said with a gleam in her eye. “Now, let’s getting going to our carriage once the ship pulls into the port. I want to see our new house before the end of today.”
With another sigh Vada looked forth at the city; trying to ignore her parents for the time being. It wasn’t too long until their ship pulled in with grace into the noisy, messy port. Folk wearing dirty workmen clothing were all about rushing about, working on the port, trying to keep it functional and as neat as possible for their high and arriving guests.
In the heap of the commotion and the work there stood their large black carriage to take them away to their new home. It had a border of glimmering gold and it stood without a scratch, it was fit for a king - or the higher class people. The horses pulling the carriage were tall and black and they stood ready to pull the carriage out of the loud port. Beside the carriage stood a large fox man wearing a tall black top hat on his head and a clean, well-fitted suit on his body. He kept a blackwood cane in his hand.
The three Fletcher’s advanced out of their ship once it had completed docked. The father and the mother both walked arm-in-arm with their head high, their backs erect and they payed no attention to the lower working class. Vada walked behind them, taking short glances at what work had been going into this dock; the sweat on each of the folk’s brows and how much their arms ached from what labour they had been going through. She felt envious about these folks. She thought they were more free than she was. She still followed her parents, trying to head her head high and her back erect.
They kept a quick pace on their way to the carriage and to the large fox, who had rusty red fur and bright green eyes. He had black speckles on his snow white muzzle. His stomach was profound and a spherical shape, his cheeks were fleshy and his arms in his suit were meaty. He awaited for the Fletcher’s with a beaming smile upon his face.
“Hello, mister and misses Fletcher,” he bowed and he greeted. “Welcome to Nona. How was your tip from…”
“Fulgur,” said Vada’s father with a smile hoisted across his face. “It was a dismal journey, I’m just glad that we’re finally here.”
“Oh, how dreadful,” remarked Hunter gravely. “Yes, at least you’re here in Nona. Now, let’s get you two…” he looked behind them to see the shy and quiet Vada behind the two Fletcher’s. She didn’t make much eye contact nor did she say a single work. “Three of you will come with me in the carriage to your new home and we’ll pack up your things graciously and we’ll send them over to you.”
The parents just gave two simple nods. Vada, on the other hand, did nothing but keep a shy smile painted across her face. It was a facade to hide her true emotions: a bleeding hatred and a crippling depression. The three Fletchers made their way into the carriage with grace. Inside the large carriage where the seats were made of fine sapphire blue velvet and the ceiling was made from a vibrant glowing glass.
The father and the mother sat across from Vada, and Vada sat in silence across from them. She kept her head bowed to the dark ground. The coach was deadly silent, you could hear the ruckus from the outdoors clearly. The mother and the father just sat with their backs erect and their heads high.
With the crack of a whip the horses trotted out of the port: clippity-clop, clippity-clop. Vada looked out the tinted grey windows as she saw the port grow smaller and smaller, and the workers slowly becoming ants. She gave a hefty sigh as she looked out the window as the new city she would now be living in. She saw the tall buildings made from stone and steel. She saw the folks, who were in similar clothes as the workers were down at the docks: dirty and probably handcrafted.
As Vada looked out onto the busy streets she spotted a family of lizardfolk - a mother, a father, and two sons. They seemed so blissfully happy with each other. Vada felt trapped as her eyes lingered on the family. She couldn’t take her eyes off of their happiness. She looked back at the cold, dark ground and she gave deep sigh of depression. She closed her eyes, waiting for the carriage ride to reach their new home.
Each passing second would drag on to feel like a hellish hour. Her parents said nothing, not even a peep. The father looked around, sometimes at his wife, sometimes at Vada and sometimes out of the window. The mother just glared at Vada, like she was expecting her to do something terrible, something wrong.
Slowly the carriage ride passed on through the streets. The Fletcher’s could hear crescendos of voices overlapping each other and the stamping of the horses onto the stone streets outside of their coach. Vada laid back in her seat as she just looked up at the ceiling with bored eyes. She began to close them, but her mother seized her from doing that.
“Vada!” she barked menacingly. “Sit up straight and stay awake! We’re almost at our new house.”
Vada slowly did what her mother told her to do and she sighed. She looked at her mother with furious eyes, but she tried to remain expressionless. The tension inside the coach was terrible, almost as if you could cut it with a knife. But the tension slowly subsided as the streets slowly looked cleaner and the streets were paved in gold. They saw other carriages around that were neat and large like theirs. They saw few folk on the streets, but they wore elegant gowns and suits much like Vada and her parents. Her parents looked out at the new streets in amazement, but Vada couldn’t care less. To her it was just another prison cell for her to be held in.
The carriage slowly pulled up to a large white house, a mansion even, and the Fletcher’s all came out of their carriage to see this new place of theirs.
“This is great!” said Vada’s father. “Even much bigger than our old house!”
“Yeah!” said Vada’s mother; she began to walk towards their great new house as she looked in dazzling amazement at their grand house.
The Night Vale - Scene One: Madness in the Night
A veil of darkness blanketed the lively yet dangerous city that
late brisk night. A silver waxing moon hung high in the inky black sky.
The streets still rushing by with either the cars with their flashing
headlights or the roaring people out having a wondrous time. The looming
buildings gazed down at the excitement and the vivacious gloom. The
night was always vibrant despite the darkness, almost as lively as the
day. Most of the folk wouldn't do anything too reckless or too immoral,
but the cops would pick up a poor sod either drunk, daring or just plain
crazy and throw them in the slammer until their sentence had been
absolute.
On that crisp night there sat a man - a lone wolf - in the cold bars of a jail cell, or what was most commonly known as Purgatory on the streets. The wolf sat with his back against the cold stone wall in a bent fashion and his head dipped down to the bleak floor. He had coal black fur with a head of short and shaggy ginger hair like the setting sun. He was a tall and slender man, like a pole. His icy blue-silver eyes looked like frozen pools of wonder and delight, but they burned with a kind warmth, like a fire on a winter's night. He had purple bruises and scarlet cuts all across his body. His cream white buttoned shirt was wrinkled and covered with crimson blood and blacksod, his noir pants had lanky cuts across them, his coal black frock coat was scuffed at the shoulders and faint splotches of blood stained it, his leathery shoes were scuffed and cut, and his beaten black fedora rested on his head had a card, an ace of hearts, in the band of the hat and a golden ring was worn on his left slender ring finger that had a splatter of crimson blood on it. He had gotten himself into a terrible fight that cold night, he was lucky he was only beaten a tad and arrested.
The guard, who was a stout fox, glared at the wolf with suspicious eyes. He hadn't spoken a word to his prisoner since he got into the dastardly Purgatory, and in return the wolf didn't breathe a word since he got there. The air was a stale silent, that was by far the worst part about the jail. He sat near the stairs to freedom in a small wooden chair with an erect back and he wore the gleaming key to the wolf's escape like a necklace, almost taunting the imprisoned wolf.
It had been mere hours since the wolf was last breathing the air of freedom, but to him it felt like terrible days, perhaps even weeks. He tended to exaggerate things in his funny little mind from time to time, sometimes giving him a hard time distinguishing the truth from fantasy, but that wasn't the case by he sat behind bars that lonesome night.
"Did my wife call?" asked the wolf as he raised his head with bloodshot eyes trying to fix on the fox, finally shattering the maddening silence.
The fox made no eye contact with the wolf whatsoever. "No," he said sternly. "What wife would ever marry a man like you?"
"A fun one," the wolf chuckled as a sly grin drawing across his face. "And she's hella fun."
"And is she going to be fun once you get out of the Purgatory?"
The wolf shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, how is she going to find out if no one told her where I am?"
"Ha, maybe she'll find a better man, who won't get thrown in jail in the middle of the night."
The wolf looked back down at the rips in his pants and the bleak floor. He gave a heavy sigh, gravely thinking about the words the fox dared to utter.
"Can't I at least call her?" he asked.
The fox just shook his head in denial. “No, not even--”
But the fox was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door leading upstairs swinging open, it almost made him jump forth from his chair. A pair of light feet crept down the old, stone work stairs. A young woman, a vixen, crept down the stairs and she looked around to find something locked away from her.
She had light auburn fur with long brown hair over her shoulder tied with a black velvet band. Her calm eyes were a blue-teal colour that sparkled like sapphires. She had an inky black anchor tattoo on her left wrist and a black tattoo of a beautiful rose. She had a beautiful curvaceous body like a goddess. She wore a neatly pressed scarlet buttoned shirt with a long midnight black overcoat overtop of that, she wore slacks, and fine leathery shoes, and she wore a glimmering golden ring on her left ring finger, just like the wolf’s.
She looked around to find the fox guard on the chair, a she had a worried look in her beautiful eyes, but she seemed uncomfortable when she came down there.
The wolf popped his head up, looking very content to see the vixen. A great smile drew across his face and he stood up to his feet. His black, bushy tail began to slightly sway back and forth in the contentment.
“Um, hello?” she nervously asked him, trying to make as little eye contact as possible. “I’m looking for, um, my husband, the chief of police said he was free to go.” She shyly took out a letter out of the pocket of the overcoat and she shakily handed it to the guard.
Without haste the guard swiped the letter from the vixen’s hand and he began to read it without sparing a second. After he read over the contents a couple of times over he looked back up at the vixen concerningly.
“One Shadow Fawkes D’Alton?” he asked. “You must be…”
“Vada Rose D’Alton,” she told him.
“Ah, I see, miss D’Alton,” said he. “You have friends in very high places, having Mr. Holmes himself bust him from Purgatory, do you?”
“Yeah,” said Vada. “Now can I get my husband out of jail and bring him home?”
The guard grumbled as he struggled to get up from his seat, but with a heave of effort he finally sprang from his chair. He sluggishly walked over towards the cold bars of the cell and he unlocked the doors to the cell and he pulled the door wide open.
Shadow walked out of the cold, dark cell. A white smile, with a splash of red, gleamed on his face as he strided towards his wife. Vada was only up to the bottom of Shadow’s chin, he could almost rest his wolfish head on her.
“Hey, Boo,” he said trying to sound calm but a flutter of happiness bounced in his voice.
Vada began to smile as tears swelled in her eyes in merriment to see her husband, even in his bloody state. Without wasting a second she embraced the wolf in a warm hug. She burrowed her face into his chest, nearly sobbing into his shirt
Shadow clutched Vada close to him, he was so happy to see his love once more from the insanity of the cold cell. With a heavy sigh he grabbed her by her shoulders, looking into her eyes and he gave her a passionate, yet bold, kiss on her alluring lips. They were cherry-sweet, almost like candy.
Vada blushed as his cold lips met with her sweet lips. She tasted blood and sweat on his lips, but she didn’t care, she was just so happy to kiss his lips and to embraced him in a warm, passionate hug.
After the two were finished smooching each other they strided off up the stairs hand-in-hand and they walked through the noisy police station. Shadow kept his fedora tipped, the collar of his coat turned up and his head dipped to conceal as much as his face as possible. A few of the cops and a few criminals gave him glances, either short curious ones or long judgemental ones. He tried to pay no attention towards them, he just clasped his love’s hand tightly.
Even Vada took short glances at her love, but not in judgement. She was worried about him, she was unsure why he was even in the jail in the first place. She kept close to him and she was just so relieved he was alright.
“So, Hunter told you were I was?” asked Shadow.
“Yeah,” said Vada. “I got a call from him like an hour ago, I was so dazed and confused. He told me you got in a fight at the bar, did you?”
Shadow simply nodded, “Yep, well, I was just enjoying a whiskey, talking to Edward, then this drunk comes and swings at me. I got hit, so I swung at him, but his friends weren’t too impressed, so they joined in on the fight, one of them had a knife--”
“A knife!” cried Vada with such worriment. “Did you get stabbed!”
“Nicked,” he said calmly. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m just really, really tired, Hun, and really sore.” He gave a hearty chuckle, as if everything was fine and dandy. “Please don’t worry about me right now, Hun. Can’t we just go home?”
“Hun,” said Vada. “I’m not letting you go to bed before I at least get a look at it. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Fine, fine,” sighed Shadow as he moved his hand towards his wife’s waist, underneath her coat, quickly softly cupping her ample rump. “Do want you need to do, doctor.”
Vada blushed as she looked up at her husband with bashful eyes and rosy cheeks; she bit her lower lip trying to hide a sly smirk. Without a second thought she copied her husband and she cupped a feel of her husband’s muscular bottom, causing his eyes to widen and his cheeks redden
The D’Altons walked together out of the busy, warm station, out into the cold, harsh streets of the city where it was lit by the golden glow of the street lamps above, hoisted on the scarred steel poles standing at attention down the cold streets. They heard in the distance a cat screeching a meow in the dark of night and the metallic rattling of the trash can it was in. The two closely walked together down the streets where the air was brisk and the stench of the virmine and the trash hung highly to their noses.
They strided back home with ease, even in the inky black darkness. They hastened their steps across the concreted streets and within half a dozen brisk minutes they came to their house on Baker street: an apartment building with white coloured bricks and dull grey steps ascending up to the rouge door with three golden numbers rested just above the door - 757.
Shadow advanced towards the door as he swung the door open, letting his wife proceed into the building before him. Vada thanked him with an adorable yet teaseful curtsy bow. Shadow smiled and he followed his wife up the three flights of the wooden stairs. They went down the stretched hallway with red carpets and sand beige walls.
The two marched down the hallway, with Vada leading and Shadow sluggishly following her. They went down to the second door to their right, which was a pale green door with claw marks etched down the door. A rusted number 34 casually laid on the door.
Vada opened the door to their apartment where she made her way into the living room of the apartment where it was only lit by the silver moonlight, she unraveled her shoes and placed them by the door. Shadow followed her into the apartment where he slipped off his shoes, leaving them in a mess.
In the darkness the walls were a calming pale blue and the floor made of an oak wood. There was a cushiony couch with its back turn towards the window - which was gazing out into the waxing moon and the prominent darkness, and was boarded by silver curtains - and two chairs that faced the couch and a short wooden table between them. The small television was across from the sitting area and down to the right was the kitchen where the blanc refrigerator silently hummed away, and down to the left was the hallway leading to the bathroom to the front, their bedroom to the left and the right was a spare, blank room, filled with nothing but an empty space.
Vada turned towards Shadow with tired yet blazing eyes, seeming wide away. She slipped off her coat and she tossed it towards the couch, but it landed ungraciously next to the coffee table.
Shadow gazed at Vada heavy-eyed and dead-faced. He threw his fedora off where Vada threw her coat and he dropped his coat by his shoes. “Hun, I am so fucking tired.” He half-mumbled. He slumped over down to the their bedroom; bumping his boney hip into the wall, but giving little reaction to what had occurred. Slowly but surely he made his uneased way to the bed and he flopped down on the heavenly comfort of the mattress.
Vada gazed over down the trail her lover took to get some shut eye. She sighed; thinking about the trouble her husband had gotten into that long, dark night. Her eyes were worried and her mind was racing, but a surge in her feeling told her to go to bed and go cuddle with her husband, who was lucky to be there that night, rather than purgatory. With a tiresome sigh she strided down the dark hallway to their bedroom. She glanced in to see Shadow fast asleep and occasionally snoring and still dressed in his bloody clothes. She was just so happy to have him with her that very night. She slipped out of her clothes - and a tattoo of a black heart with an S in the middle of it was at her left side - and she climbed into bed beside her loved one. She gazed at the black wolf, making sure if he was doing alright.
Shadow just softly snored - occasionally loudly, (and less occasionally he mumbled utter nonsense) - but he very much asleep. Slowly he turned towards his honey and he unconsciously wrapped his arms around her and he placed his slender hands upon her plush tummy. He silently moaned and indistinctly smirked.
Vada smiled as she looked over her shoulder to see her loved happy, even in his unconscious state. “I love you,” she whispered before she gave his a kiss on his lips before she rested her head down.
Shadow mumbled not a moment later, though it sluggish it vaguely sounded like “I love you too.”
Vada sighed in happiness and then she drifted off to sleep, so happy to have her love back, with her in his arms.
On that crisp night there sat a man - a lone wolf - in the cold bars of a jail cell, or what was most commonly known as Purgatory on the streets. The wolf sat with his back against the cold stone wall in a bent fashion and his head dipped down to the bleak floor. He had coal black fur with a head of short and shaggy ginger hair like the setting sun. He was a tall and slender man, like a pole. His icy blue-silver eyes looked like frozen pools of wonder and delight, but they burned with a kind warmth, like a fire on a winter's night. He had purple bruises and scarlet cuts all across his body. His cream white buttoned shirt was wrinkled and covered with crimson blood and blacksod, his noir pants had lanky cuts across them, his coal black frock coat was scuffed at the shoulders and faint splotches of blood stained it, his leathery shoes were scuffed and cut, and his beaten black fedora rested on his head had a card, an ace of hearts, in the band of the hat and a golden ring was worn on his left slender ring finger that had a splatter of crimson blood on it. He had gotten himself into a terrible fight that cold night, he was lucky he was only beaten a tad and arrested.
The guard, who was a stout fox, glared at the wolf with suspicious eyes. He hadn't spoken a word to his prisoner since he got into the dastardly Purgatory, and in return the wolf didn't breathe a word since he got there. The air was a stale silent, that was by far the worst part about the jail. He sat near the stairs to freedom in a small wooden chair with an erect back and he wore the gleaming key to the wolf's escape like a necklace, almost taunting the imprisoned wolf.
It had been mere hours since the wolf was last breathing the air of freedom, but to him it felt like terrible days, perhaps even weeks. He tended to exaggerate things in his funny little mind from time to time, sometimes giving him a hard time distinguishing the truth from fantasy, but that wasn't the case by he sat behind bars that lonesome night.
"Did my wife call?" asked the wolf as he raised his head with bloodshot eyes trying to fix on the fox, finally shattering the maddening silence.
The fox made no eye contact with the wolf whatsoever. "No," he said sternly. "What wife would ever marry a man like you?"
"A fun one," the wolf chuckled as a sly grin drawing across his face. "And she's hella fun."
"And is she going to be fun once you get out of the Purgatory?"
The wolf shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, how is she going to find out if no one told her where I am?"
"Ha, maybe she'll find a better man, who won't get thrown in jail in the middle of the night."
The wolf looked back down at the rips in his pants and the bleak floor. He gave a heavy sigh, gravely thinking about the words the fox dared to utter.
"Can't I at least call her?" he asked.
The fox just shook his head in denial. “No, not even--”
But the fox was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door leading upstairs swinging open, it almost made him jump forth from his chair. A pair of light feet crept down the old, stone work stairs. A young woman, a vixen, crept down the stairs and she looked around to find something locked away from her.
She had light auburn fur with long brown hair over her shoulder tied with a black velvet band. Her calm eyes were a blue-teal colour that sparkled like sapphires. She had an inky black anchor tattoo on her left wrist and a black tattoo of a beautiful rose. She had a beautiful curvaceous body like a goddess. She wore a neatly pressed scarlet buttoned shirt with a long midnight black overcoat overtop of that, she wore slacks, and fine leathery shoes, and she wore a glimmering golden ring on her left ring finger, just like the wolf’s.
She looked around to find the fox guard on the chair, a she had a worried look in her beautiful eyes, but she seemed uncomfortable when she came down there.
The wolf popped his head up, looking very content to see the vixen. A great smile drew across his face and he stood up to his feet. His black, bushy tail began to slightly sway back and forth in the contentment.
“Um, hello?” she nervously asked him, trying to make as little eye contact as possible. “I’m looking for, um, my husband, the chief of police said he was free to go.” She shyly took out a letter out of the pocket of the overcoat and she shakily handed it to the guard.
Without haste the guard swiped the letter from the vixen’s hand and he began to read it without sparing a second. After he read over the contents a couple of times over he looked back up at the vixen concerningly.
“One Shadow Fawkes D’Alton?” he asked. “You must be…”
“Vada Rose D’Alton,” she told him.
“Ah, I see, miss D’Alton,” said he. “You have friends in very high places, having Mr. Holmes himself bust him from Purgatory, do you?”
“Yeah,” said Vada. “Now can I get my husband out of jail and bring him home?”
The guard grumbled as he struggled to get up from his seat, but with a heave of effort he finally sprang from his chair. He sluggishly walked over towards the cold bars of the cell and he unlocked the doors to the cell and he pulled the door wide open.
Shadow walked out of the cold, dark cell. A white smile, with a splash of red, gleamed on his face as he strided towards his wife. Vada was only up to the bottom of Shadow’s chin, he could almost rest his wolfish head on her.
“Hey, Boo,” he said trying to sound calm but a flutter of happiness bounced in his voice.
Vada began to smile as tears swelled in her eyes in merriment to see her husband, even in his bloody state. Without wasting a second she embraced the wolf in a warm hug. She burrowed her face into his chest, nearly sobbing into his shirt
Shadow clutched Vada close to him, he was so happy to see his love once more from the insanity of the cold cell. With a heavy sigh he grabbed her by her shoulders, looking into her eyes and he gave her a passionate, yet bold, kiss on her alluring lips. They were cherry-sweet, almost like candy.
Vada blushed as his cold lips met with her sweet lips. She tasted blood and sweat on his lips, but she didn’t care, she was just so happy to kiss his lips and to embraced him in a warm, passionate hug.
After the two were finished smooching each other they strided off up the stairs hand-in-hand and they walked through the noisy police station. Shadow kept his fedora tipped, the collar of his coat turned up and his head dipped to conceal as much as his face as possible. A few of the cops and a few criminals gave him glances, either short curious ones or long judgemental ones. He tried to pay no attention towards them, he just clasped his love’s hand tightly.
Even Vada took short glances at her love, but not in judgement. She was worried about him, she was unsure why he was even in the jail in the first place. She kept close to him and she was just so relieved he was alright.
“So, Hunter told you were I was?” asked Shadow.
“Yeah,” said Vada. “I got a call from him like an hour ago, I was so dazed and confused. He told me you got in a fight at the bar, did you?”
Shadow simply nodded, “Yep, well, I was just enjoying a whiskey, talking to Edward, then this drunk comes and swings at me. I got hit, so I swung at him, but his friends weren’t too impressed, so they joined in on the fight, one of them had a knife--”
“A knife!” cried Vada with such worriment. “Did you get stabbed!”
“Nicked,” he said calmly. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m just really, really tired, Hun, and really sore.” He gave a hearty chuckle, as if everything was fine and dandy. “Please don’t worry about me right now, Hun. Can’t we just go home?”
“Hun,” said Vada. “I’m not letting you go to bed before I at least get a look at it. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Fine, fine,” sighed Shadow as he moved his hand towards his wife’s waist, underneath her coat, quickly softly cupping her ample rump. “Do want you need to do, doctor.”
Vada blushed as she looked up at her husband with bashful eyes and rosy cheeks; she bit her lower lip trying to hide a sly smirk. Without a second thought she copied her husband and she cupped a feel of her husband’s muscular bottom, causing his eyes to widen and his cheeks redden
The D’Altons walked together out of the busy, warm station, out into the cold, harsh streets of the city where it was lit by the golden glow of the street lamps above, hoisted on the scarred steel poles standing at attention down the cold streets. They heard in the distance a cat screeching a meow in the dark of night and the metallic rattling of the trash can it was in. The two closely walked together down the streets where the air was brisk and the stench of the virmine and the trash hung highly to their noses.
They strided back home with ease, even in the inky black darkness. They hastened their steps across the concreted streets and within half a dozen brisk minutes they came to their house on Baker street: an apartment building with white coloured bricks and dull grey steps ascending up to the rouge door with three golden numbers rested just above the door - 757.
Shadow advanced towards the door as he swung the door open, letting his wife proceed into the building before him. Vada thanked him with an adorable yet teaseful curtsy bow. Shadow smiled and he followed his wife up the three flights of the wooden stairs. They went down the stretched hallway with red carpets and sand beige walls.
The two marched down the hallway, with Vada leading and Shadow sluggishly following her. They went down to the second door to their right, which was a pale green door with claw marks etched down the door. A rusted number 34 casually laid on the door.
Vada opened the door to their apartment where she made her way into the living room of the apartment where it was only lit by the silver moonlight, she unraveled her shoes and placed them by the door. Shadow followed her into the apartment where he slipped off his shoes, leaving them in a mess.
In the darkness the walls were a calming pale blue and the floor made of an oak wood. There was a cushiony couch with its back turn towards the window - which was gazing out into the waxing moon and the prominent darkness, and was boarded by silver curtains - and two chairs that faced the couch and a short wooden table between them. The small television was across from the sitting area and down to the right was the kitchen where the blanc refrigerator silently hummed away, and down to the left was the hallway leading to the bathroom to the front, their bedroom to the left and the right was a spare, blank room, filled with nothing but an empty space.
Vada turned towards Shadow with tired yet blazing eyes, seeming wide away. She slipped off her coat and she tossed it towards the couch, but it landed ungraciously next to the coffee table.
Shadow gazed at Vada heavy-eyed and dead-faced. He threw his fedora off where Vada threw her coat and he dropped his coat by his shoes. “Hun, I am so fucking tired.” He half-mumbled. He slumped over down to the their bedroom; bumping his boney hip into the wall, but giving little reaction to what had occurred. Slowly but surely he made his uneased way to the bed and he flopped down on the heavenly comfort of the mattress.
Vada gazed over down the trail her lover took to get some shut eye. She sighed; thinking about the trouble her husband had gotten into that long, dark night. Her eyes were worried and her mind was racing, but a surge in her feeling told her to go to bed and go cuddle with her husband, who was lucky to be there that night, rather than purgatory. With a tiresome sigh she strided down the dark hallway to their bedroom. She glanced in to see Shadow fast asleep and occasionally snoring and still dressed in his bloody clothes. She was just so happy to have him with her that very night. She slipped out of her clothes - and a tattoo of a black heart with an S in the middle of it was at her left side - and she climbed into bed beside her loved one. She gazed at the black wolf, making sure if he was doing alright.
Shadow just softly snored - occasionally loudly, (and less occasionally he mumbled utter nonsense) - but he very much asleep. Slowly he turned towards his honey and he unconsciously wrapped his arms around her and he placed his slender hands upon her plush tummy. He silently moaned and indistinctly smirked.
Vada smiled as she looked over her shoulder to see her loved happy, even in his unconscious state. “I love you,” she whispered before she gave his a kiss on his lips before she rested her head down.
Shadow mumbled not a moment later, though it sluggish it vaguely sounded like “I love you too.”
Vada sighed in happiness and then she drifted off to sleep, so happy to have her love back, with her in his arms.
Crimson Eyes
Her eyes were like pools of crimson red blood,
Even the Death shall glare into their beauty.
Her skin was like the snow unstained by mud;
People said she was a broken cutie.
Her voice was the whisper of a stranger,
Like the organ of a graceful angel.
People said she was the kind of danger;
And she was a lady that was baneful.
Her hair was the colour of a great flame;
Some say it was the same texture of cloth.
It was the same beauty as her true name,
Some say she was from a witches' mad broth.
In truth she was in fact just a sad belle,
When she lived in such a frightful pale hell.
Even the Death shall glare into their beauty.
Her skin was like the snow unstained by mud;
People said she was a broken cutie.
Her voice was the whisper of a stranger,
Like the organ of a graceful angel.
People said she was the kind of danger;
And she was a lady that was baneful.
Her hair was the colour of a great flame;
Some say it was the same texture of cloth.
It was the same beauty as her true name,
Some say she was from a witches' mad broth.
In truth she was in fact just a sad belle,
When she lived in such a frightful pale hell.
Four Winter Nights
Four winter nights since I last saw her.
I remember her hair was ebony,
We had something chemically.
I recall that it was all a blur.
I swear her eyes were sapphires,
They gleamed and glistened like fires.
But I'm sad to say on this moonlit night,
That my ebony haired lass is no more than a blight,
And her shallow grave resides
Ever do closely to the water's sides.
That was the last time I saw her.
Four winter nights since that blur.
I remember her hair was ebony,
We had something chemically.
I recall that it was all a blur.
I swear her eyes were sapphires,
They gleamed and glistened like fires.
But I'm sad to say on this moonlit night,
That my ebony haired lass is no more than a blight,
And her shallow grave resides
Ever do closely to the water's sides.
That was the last time I saw her.
Four winter nights since that blur.
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