Harbringers

living in a prayer

    I ran as fast as I could. I can't even feel my legs anymore. How long have I been on the run? What else am I fighting for in this wasteland? Everything and everyone is gone now. I stopped in my tracks, inspecting where I am. I ended up in an abandoned chapel- stained glass windows shattered, the wood floorboards chipped, the statues of saints crushed. The once House of God was obliterated in one fell swoop. Are there even any gods out there? 

"Found you..." a demonic voice called out. 

    There it stood at the entrance of the abode, I know that person... a friend from before. Even the likes of her would fall to submission of the Queen?. I await its next move. I cross my fingers hoping that by chance it couldn't enter this place. I silently pray, just save me this time but the figure only chuckled. It was able walk towards me, laughing as it goes near. Fear stirred in my stomach and panicked raised. 

"You think that can stop me?" it laughed mockingly, "You know, if you join our legion you will be forgiven."

"Forgiven?" I whispered with distaste in my mouth.

    I refused to succumb to my Fate or even from my name, and I refuse to be anyone's pawns! My blood curdled in hatred and my head throbbed painfully. I am finally at my edge. No more running! No more hiding!  I have powers, too!

"I don't need forgiveness," I exclaimed angrily, "especially, not from the likes of you!" 

    I held out my hands and burst of flames erupted from my palms. Blue flames licked the whole place, charring everything it touches. The demonic figure was confused, it burned along with what I thought could save me. Everything melted, turning them into one mushy glob. 

 I will not take any more chances. 

-          

  Afternoons was Beatrice Bryce’s favorite time of the day, this was the hour she’d come home from school or ballet practice and eat snacks readied by her mom. But apparently, that’s also ruined along with her future and body thanks to this destiny she’s part of.  Lucille just had to force herself in, she was at her limit. She’s already on floor, helpless, she can just- no… she won’t be different from these two if she did that. She let Bianca and her partner escape with the hopes they won’t come back again. Curses, she bit her lower lip in frustrations. Next thing she knows, she’s already crying.

            She was well-aware of her condition- she knows that she is degrading, rapidly aging and borderline dying, and she hated it when some people was just rubbing it in. That sends her off quickly. Evidently, she was just pestered by those two, she has no idea on how they found her and she has no interest on what they want. One thing she’s sure of, that child of Lucifer intends to pull her into this Children of Hell s**t. The sole reason why she is in this situation.

            She looked at her reflection at the window pane. She grimaced at how she looked. She caressed her wrinkled face, her skin feeling the bony fingers. Each day that passes, she’d look older. Would you believe there was a day that she was pretty, not pretty, pretty but prettier than how she looks currently? Doctors can’t find out what illness she has, but she knows. After blowing the candles for her sixteenth birthday that when everything went downhill. After wisps of smoke settled, she immediately felt pain and numbness, and to her horror, her mother was delighted at the sight. The mother that cared for her for sixteen years, that made sure she was safe and sound, is happy, hands clasped together, watching her writhe in pain and anguish.

            “It’s finally happening!” she cheered, clapping her hands, “All those years finally paying off!”

            Her mother enjoyed it. She left her on the floor to make a call to someone and Beatrice had to fight for every inch to at least reach the couch. That was the day she started aging. Wrinkles warped her skin and her beautiful hair bleached to white. When her mother discovered such alterations, she was furious, calling her as another disappointment and a mistake.

            Merely remembering it made her disgusted of her parents and this world even more. If it weren’t for concerned relatives, she wouldn’t be here. She wanted to vomit, she stopped the urge by gripping at the sheets, tearing in a few holes. The door violently swung open only to reveal, a gasping girl in her pajamas holding a compass. No one knows how to knock these days, she thought. The girl was in disarray, her hair disheveled, the pajamas wrinkly, she must have just woken up or she always looks like that, how should she know? She inhaled and exhaled deeply, gulping air in the process, until she can finally make out words.

            “Did you happen to see two innocently looking teenage girls?” she asked coarsely.

            “They just left.” Beatrice answered.

            The girl’s face fell in disappointment. Her compass then chattered and that immediately gave her life, she panicked at the sound and almost dropped it. She apologized and waved good bye as she closed the door. Can’t I have a moment’s peace until I rest in peace? She thought, burying her face into the pillow and shrieked. Right now, she’d do anything to go back to the way things were before. Anything. Does her friends in ballet class are worried about her? Does anyone care about her? She wanted to be like them, slim, graceful, feminine, the exact opposite of her situation. Her head throbbed and her body felt light. God, just by lashing out and thinking, she felt tired. She’s officially an old crone. She slowly drifted to sleep and descended into dreams.  

            Tchaikovsky’s compositions fill the ballroom. Six Beatrices strutted and sashayed in perfect synchronization on the center, at the moment they were confident that they were the embodiment of grace and elegance. All of this to please the man seated at the throne in front of them. As they swayed and twirled and leapt, they constantly peeked if his expression changed, if he was pleased, or at least a muscle in his would move, but to no avail. They tried harder, each movement made their joint ache, eager to drag an expression from him. They eased it all. Then crashing through the window, a girl in a swan-esque costume arrived getting the man’s attention, entirely. The shattered pieces twinkled, she was like a star. She was beautiful. Too beautiful. She swiftly galloped around the ballroom, waving her arms and legs. The man intently watched the Swan. The Beatrices felt threatened by the competition. They didn’t want to be out danced, especially by the likes of her, so they swayed harder, twirled harder, and leapt harder.

            Then, a loud crunch echoed in the ballroom. The frailty of their bodies finally reached its peak. One by one they fell and shattered, but the he paid them no mind. He just wants to watch the Swan dance. The last Beatrice, looked around her, her throat tautened and her eyes blurred. She, too gave in. She crumbled and broke, despite it all, she didn’t find her injuries painful, but being forced to watch him favor another woman was. She shed a tear. Even in dreams she is hurting. Her throat tightened as if a heavy object stopped her from breathing. She flailed and revolted at the feeling, something is stopping her from breathing. 

-

"What are you doing?" Theresa called out, sword in hand. 

    A hooded figure stood before Beatrice, her face being covered by a pillow. The patient flailed, unleashing waves of winds from her hand. The room was crumbling- everything rotted instantaneously, the walls cracked, the paint chipped, molds form, the decay spread to the next rooms. The patients from the other rooms can be heard coughing and hacking. But that didn't faze the person, it didn't budge, it continued to suffocate the girl. Theresa's knees shake in fear, being scared will get you no where, she recalled the words of her mentor. She breath deeply and tightened her grip to the hilt. She braced herself as she swung her sword to the person. The figure turned to dodge, using its palm it launched a force towards Theresa, pushing her to the wall, crashing her to the next room. A golden aura covered the girl from the impact softening her fall- Another Blessing in handy, she thought. She immediately stood up and fixed her stance, preparing for another blow.

"Hollowed light!" she called swinging her sword one more time. 

     A beam of light blasted from the tip of the blade gashing the hooded figure. Only to be blocked by its palm. She bit her lower lip in frustration, obviously irritated. The room felt like it would give in any minute. The hooded figure dashed towards her, now with knife in hand, ready to fillet her. 

"I knew I should've used this from the start!" a feminine voice sneered. 

    Theresa blocked it with her blade, and parried it. The hooded lady backed away from the force, Beatrice was able to recover for the mean time, mustering her strength she balled her fist causing the knife to rust and the lady's palm to burn. Theresa took this opportunity, another beam of light bolted from the blade but not towards the lady but to the floor. It was enough for it to cave in, causing the woman to fall.

"We need to get you out of here!" she turned to the patient and saw how it was still struggling to breath. 

    Theresa scooped the patient from her bed and ran. Hopefully the reinforcements would come quickly and heal the other patients, too. She couldn't save them all. She leaves the room, a man in a leather suit walked in with spear in hand. She commanded her golden aura to encase her and the patient but to no avail. 

"I believe," he smirked eyeing the patient, "you have what we need.". 

"I won't hand her to anyone!" she shouted, mustering all the bravery she got. 

"I guess I won't have any choice." 

    Theresa prayed for her safety. She doesn't know how she will be able to fight in this state. The hospital is already crumbling and other patients might have been dying right now. She was staggering, confused, and panicking. God, she called in her head, help me! The man readies his spear preparing to impale them both. All she can do was close her eyes. Beatrice shivered, pushing out more strength, she focused on the spear and to the room.

-

     Lucille opened the curtain to her room. The blaring and shouting woke her from her beauty sleep. Irritated she looked at the chaos. It was beautiful but another thing caught her eye. Puffs of smoke flared from the distance of what she suspects is a place she knows. She had a gut feeling that the Child of Greed and Wrath have already made a move- a declaration of war. She clicked her tongue, not even the havoc can cheer her up. Her plans are already ruined! She aggressively stomped her feet and thrashed her arms around. 

"Those two have done and did it!" she shrieked in frustration, stomping her feet even more. 

    She looked at the mirror and saw how unbecoming she was being. She composed herself and dusted her nightgown. That's not how Queens should act, her Father used to remind, why won't you show them how?. 

"Two can play that game." 

    She waved her hand in anger, a streak of c***k snaked through the pavements, she focused intently waiting to see and hear a building crumble from a far. Now that will show them, she smiled. She jumped back to her bed knowing that she can sleep better. But tomorrow, she will raise Hell on Bianca for letting this happen!