Pandora's Box (G) - Challenge #116
Posted: Sun Jun 13, 2010 3:27 am
Here is my answer to the 'Between the Fire and the Fountain' challenge. It was the first thought that came to mind and quickly written. I hope that you don't have any trouble following it.
My thanks to Pgal for giving it a read. She has long since become my other half and I don't know what I'd do without her.
Pandora's Box
"Now you know why it could never work."
"All I know is, ever since I've met you, I've stopped using the word never."
His vision was blurry. Shaky hands lifted, and using the heel of his hands, rubbed the offensive moisture away. Must be from the sun. That would explain the tears but not the shaking or the hollowness that burned through his chest.
I shouldn't have left her out on the balcony. I had to. Everything I can't have, everything I want is out there, right before my eyes but beyond my grasp. It's too much.
Reaching the gray door, he shouldered it opened and then yanked it closed behind him. Relieved to be alone, the world shut out, he leaned against the cold metal and sank to the floor.
It was that face. That sweet, trusting face. My eyes closed and I was transported back twenty-two years. I'd traced the missing girl to my wife and to the building where we went the night of our wedding. The place where she'd betrayed me by stripping me of choice and life.
In a tortured flash, he saw her once again burning, screaming as he strode from the room with an armful of angelic innocence. He'd just killed his wife. His sire. A brutal fight followed by flames. All of it witnessed by the little blond girl. She was huddled in a corner, frightened.
Yet.....yet when I held out my hand she took it. And she'd had that same look on her face. Such trust. Such suffocating trust.
The vampire looked up and banged his head against the door. He didn't understand how she hadn't been terrified of him. Then. Or now.
After a silent ride home, with the stoic little girl sitting shot-gun, he'd delivered her into her mother's arms. She'd finally cried, her tiny hands hugging her mom's neck. Feeling the voyeur, Mick tried to back out but his eyes were riveted to the small blond wisps that bounced against shaking shoulders.
She's safe. It's done. Job over.
Then why wouldn't his feet move? Why had it felt like he was leaving some vital part of himself behind if he left? So he'd smiled at the woman and, noting how reluctant she was to relinquish the small body clinging to her, he'd offered to make her some tea, carry the girl to her room, tell her everything would be fine. Anything but leave.
They sat in the kitchen over cups of coffee until, finally, little Beth disengaged herself to fetch a small pink teacup; throwing quick, shy glances the vampire's way. She climbed up on the chair next to his and gifted him with a plastic cookie and a tentative smile.
His chest had felt as if it were caught in a vice. The same suffocating vice he'd felt out there on the balcony. He was as creature that scrounged and hid in the darkness but for the moment he basked in the warmth and glow of the beautiful child. He wished he could keep the feeling but it was as impossible as pocketing the sun.
Tears over and coffee finished, Mrs. Turner escorted him out. Just as he nodded to her and turned to leave there was a tug at the bottom of his jacket. He squatted, bringing his face level with hers, expecting that she wanted to tell him something and Mick prayed she wouldn't say anything about what she'd seen. Never, in a million years, had he expected those soft blue eyes to look into his with such adoration before she moved forward, placing those little rosebud lips upon his cheek.
Mick's hands fisted and dug into thighs already taut with tension as he thought of the kiss Beth had just given him. It had been déjà vu, churning the same sense of useless yearnings.
I never should have gone to that fountain. Never should have revealed myself.
He'd known, from the worship in those young blue eyes, that she'd formed a connection to him. Mick also knew that he could only disappoint her. But, God, how he wanted to live up to image she'd painted of him.
He'd left that house with his head spinning. He'd emerged from that night transformed. Coraline was dead. He no longer had to wonder where she would pop up or what wild thing she would surprise him with. She'd finally stepped over a line he wouldn't, couldn't cross with her, and Mick couldn't deny that there was a sense of relief that he was free. Still, there was a deep throb of pain for what could have been. There was also bubble of something he didn't dare to name. Hope? Purpose? Mick didn't look at it closely enough to know.
The need for solace in a glass of good scotch and an ear, should he feel inclined to unload, Mick headed for the home of his new best friend.
He'd told Josef what had happened. About Coraline. About the girl. And hadn't he been overjoyed. The scotch helped but the scowl he received from the older vampire did not. Mick cut his story short and decided not to pull out the tangled weave of emotions for Josef's scrutiny. He left it buried, figuring he'd sort it out by himself later.
The wealthy host did, however, try to help by offering his exhausted friend a bevy of pretty veins. The orchestra of hearts should have had his fangs dropping but all Mick could feel was a tingle on his cheek where Beth had kissed him. It was like with the brush of her lips she'd wiped his slate clean and he couldn't bear to defile her gift by giving into the monster.
Mick had waved away the women, deciding that he'd find another way to sustain himself - one that didn't require the unleashing of the vampire. It hadn't taken him long. A few inquiries and some connection made and he'd found alternatives to feeding fresh.
Life went on. His P.I. business flourished. And every few weeks he'd find himself once again being drawn towards the center of his universe. Like a planet orbiting the sun, Mick was incapable of ignoring her attraction. Year after year he assured her safety and reminded himself that even as a vampire he did something good. Something worthwhile. He never got too close, careful to stay in the shadows.
Until the day at the fountain. Mick wasn't sure if it was seeing Beth on the screen or knowing that she was so close to danger, but he couldn't help himself. He'd had to go. Between the fire and the fountain he'd managed to suppress the desire to step forward. At first it was to protect the child and then, later, it was to protect himself.
Still on the floor, Mick frowned and tilted his head as he heard Beth talking with Audrey. They were leaving. Beth's voice was low and hoarse. Her sadness bit at him but he couldn't let this go on any more. Just as he'd feared, he'd stepped into her world and his Beth, his sweet, accepting Beth was once again looking at him with stars in her eyes.
By stepping out of the shadows Mick had pulled the lid off Pandora's Box. The problem was not that he couldn't close it. It was that he didn't want to.
My thanks to Pgal for giving it a read. She has long since become my other half and I don't know what I'd do without her.
Pandora's Box
"Now you know why it could never work."
"All I know is, ever since I've met you, I've stopped using the word never."
His vision was blurry. Shaky hands lifted, and using the heel of his hands, rubbed the offensive moisture away. Must be from the sun. That would explain the tears but not the shaking or the hollowness that burned through his chest.
I shouldn't have left her out on the balcony. I had to. Everything I can't have, everything I want is out there, right before my eyes but beyond my grasp. It's too much.
Reaching the gray door, he shouldered it opened and then yanked it closed behind him. Relieved to be alone, the world shut out, he leaned against the cold metal and sank to the floor.
It was that face. That sweet, trusting face. My eyes closed and I was transported back twenty-two years. I'd traced the missing girl to my wife and to the building where we went the night of our wedding. The place where she'd betrayed me by stripping me of choice and life.
In a tortured flash, he saw her once again burning, screaming as he strode from the room with an armful of angelic innocence. He'd just killed his wife. His sire. A brutal fight followed by flames. All of it witnessed by the little blond girl. She was huddled in a corner, frightened.
Yet.....yet when I held out my hand she took it. And she'd had that same look on her face. Such trust. Such suffocating trust.
The vampire looked up and banged his head against the door. He didn't understand how she hadn't been terrified of him. Then. Or now.
After a silent ride home, with the stoic little girl sitting shot-gun, he'd delivered her into her mother's arms. She'd finally cried, her tiny hands hugging her mom's neck. Feeling the voyeur, Mick tried to back out but his eyes were riveted to the small blond wisps that bounced against shaking shoulders.
She's safe. It's done. Job over.
Then why wouldn't his feet move? Why had it felt like he was leaving some vital part of himself behind if he left? So he'd smiled at the woman and, noting how reluctant she was to relinquish the small body clinging to her, he'd offered to make her some tea, carry the girl to her room, tell her everything would be fine. Anything but leave.
They sat in the kitchen over cups of coffee until, finally, little Beth disengaged herself to fetch a small pink teacup; throwing quick, shy glances the vampire's way. She climbed up on the chair next to his and gifted him with a plastic cookie and a tentative smile.
His chest had felt as if it were caught in a vice. The same suffocating vice he'd felt out there on the balcony. He was as creature that scrounged and hid in the darkness but for the moment he basked in the warmth and glow of the beautiful child. He wished he could keep the feeling but it was as impossible as pocketing the sun.
Tears over and coffee finished, Mrs. Turner escorted him out. Just as he nodded to her and turned to leave there was a tug at the bottom of his jacket. He squatted, bringing his face level with hers, expecting that she wanted to tell him something and Mick prayed she wouldn't say anything about what she'd seen. Never, in a million years, had he expected those soft blue eyes to look into his with such adoration before she moved forward, placing those little rosebud lips upon his cheek.
Mick's hands fisted and dug into thighs already taut with tension as he thought of the kiss Beth had just given him. It had been déjà vu, churning the same sense of useless yearnings.
I never should have gone to that fountain. Never should have revealed myself.
He'd known, from the worship in those young blue eyes, that she'd formed a connection to him. Mick also knew that he could only disappoint her. But, God, how he wanted to live up to image she'd painted of him.
He'd left that house with his head spinning. He'd emerged from that night transformed. Coraline was dead. He no longer had to wonder where she would pop up or what wild thing she would surprise him with. She'd finally stepped over a line he wouldn't, couldn't cross with her, and Mick couldn't deny that there was a sense of relief that he was free. Still, there was a deep throb of pain for what could have been. There was also bubble of something he didn't dare to name. Hope? Purpose? Mick didn't look at it closely enough to know.
The need for solace in a glass of good scotch and an ear, should he feel inclined to unload, Mick headed for the home of his new best friend.
He'd told Josef what had happened. About Coraline. About the girl. And hadn't he been overjoyed. The scotch helped but the scowl he received from the older vampire did not. Mick cut his story short and decided not to pull out the tangled weave of emotions for Josef's scrutiny. He left it buried, figuring he'd sort it out by himself later.
The wealthy host did, however, try to help by offering his exhausted friend a bevy of pretty veins. The orchestra of hearts should have had his fangs dropping but all Mick could feel was a tingle on his cheek where Beth had kissed him. It was like with the brush of her lips she'd wiped his slate clean and he couldn't bear to defile her gift by giving into the monster.
Mick had waved away the women, deciding that he'd find another way to sustain himself - one that didn't require the unleashing of the vampire. It hadn't taken him long. A few inquiries and some connection made and he'd found alternatives to feeding fresh.
Life went on. His P.I. business flourished. And every few weeks he'd find himself once again being drawn towards the center of his universe. Like a planet orbiting the sun, Mick was incapable of ignoring her attraction. Year after year he assured her safety and reminded himself that even as a vampire he did something good. Something worthwhile. He never got too close, careful to stay in the shadows.
Until the day at the fountain. Mick wasn't sure if it was seeing Beth on the screen or knowing that she was so close to danger, but he couldn't help himself. He'd had to go. Between the fire and the fountain he'd managed to suppress the desire to step forward. At first it was to protect the child and then, later, it was to protect himself.
Still on the floor, Mick frowned and tilted his head as he heard Beth talking with Audrey. They were leaving. Beth's voice was low and hoarse. Her sadness bit at him but he couldn't let this go on any more. Just as he'd feared, he'd stepped into her world and his Beth, his sweet, accepting Beth was once again looking at him with stars in her eyes.
By stepping out of the shadows Mick had pulled the lid off Pandora's Box. The problem was not that he couldn't close it. It was that he didn't want to.