D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ Angelic Chains ❯ Click and holy shit ( Chapter 5 )

Ok, five it is. I still need some male characters to play as School guys. They can be asses or not, doesn't matter. Please, or I'll have to make up my own, and that never turns out well if I have more then three characters of my own. The story goes all screwy. And please review and tell me if you like the direction I'm going in with this story. If not, tell me why, and maybe I can change it. I'll try to make this chapter longer, but I can't grantee anything.

 

So with out further ado

`Angelic Chains'

 

p.s do you like the title? Does it fit? Ok, I'm done with my blabbing.

 

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“Uhh! Man, how could I do something this stupid! Man, now I'm gonna have to rebuild the kitchen.” Naomi whined. She slumped in the drivers seat of the parked car. It was a jeep wrangler, black with a removable cameo top. I just stared off into the distant woods, thinking of Dark, and trying to ignore the sting of the burns aggravating my scars. I let her vent, if she didn't do it now, then it would only happen later. I pulled the lock open, and stepped out of the jeep. I could smell the charred remains of what was a kitchen. My hair, currently shorter due to the tips being burnt, rested just above my jaw line, Dark would be pissed I'd cut it so short, but hey, desperate times call for change. Walking up to the house I stood on the front porch about to open the door.

“It's locked.” Naomi called from the car. I turned to stare at her over my shoulder, a small smirk on my face.

“What's so funny?” Her face twisted up as if she thought I was picking on her. I pressed the finger pads of my right hand to the center of the door, far enough to the right so Naomi could she me, and held my left hand behind my back. I put press on the door, and it gave, swinging open to the hazy inside. `five, four, three, two, one..' I counted down in my head.

“Holy shit!” She was at my side in an instant.

“How the hell did you do that?” She reached forward towards the door, just as I withdrew my hand, it slammed in our faces. My smirk never faltered.

“Go ahead, try the knob.” She did, it was locked. I watched her avidly, this was very amusing. At least she wasn't moping anymore.

“Watch. Closely.” I placed my finger tips together in from of my stomach for the second time in a day and chanted…

 

“Dok tro Disi (Dyisi)” …With my head bowed over my hands. Looking up, I placed both my hands flush with the wood of the doors, then pushed. Slowly I stepped through the closed door without it ever moving. I kept moving till I was standing with my hands against air, and my back just barely off the door.

“Holy shit! What the fuck was that!” Came a rather shocked from the outside side of the door. I heard her fumble through her pocket and find the key. The key scarped against the metal of the lock and the door flew open. It banged against the co-en-siding wall. The tops of our heads were hazy due to the ventilation or lack there of.

“How the hell did you do that?” I just gave her a smirk.

“I think it's about time I showed my actual strength. Come with me.” As we traveled down the hall way lines showed up on the walls. They were burnt into the walls, five to a wall, each ranging in size.

“What are these? Did the fire do this?” She stared at me before it clicked. Realization dawned on her face.

“You know what; I'm not even going to ask.” She then marched into the black room before us.

“What are we going to do with this place?” She picked up what I guess was a pan; it was hard to tell what exactly it was.

“What exactly happened while I was asleep?” I eyed her wearily. Naomi shifted from her left foot to the right and back to the left. Her hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes shifted down to the ground, staring at her feet.

“You'll laugh.”

“I won't.”

“You will.” I sighed, damn the stubborn.

“How about this. I'll tell you something I did when I was working for a master in the 1850's and you tell me what you did? Deal?” She met my gaze, and nodded.

“Ok, well, you see, back then, every girl was taught at a young age how to cook, clean, do laundry, ect. I had many years to perfect these talents, and at the time I didn't need to live off of someone as I do now. I was pretty powerful, but I didn't know it, although I never did age physically past whatever age I thought I was. So anyway, I was to serve the main table at my master's party. His son was getting married. The girl was extremely pretty, she had the face of a doll and dark long wavy hair. She was about sixteen and the son was about twenty. This was where I first saw Dark. He offered to pour himself his drink. At the time, I was so scared. Would my master be mad if I disobeyed him or the man?

 

“Well girl, what are you waiting for, give the man what he wants.” Handing over the urn, she kneeled down till her head was touching the floor, waiting till she was spoken to again. A light tap on the shoulder told her it was time to rise and begin her duties again. She took the urn from the dark haired man, and continued down the line of men. Once everyone had their drinks she went to her Lord's side, pouring him a chalice full. That's when the Son and daughter-in-law strolled in. The girl bowed her head, as the men gave loud hoots.

“Girl, where are your manners tonight.” Her Lord shoved her down onto the floor, the urn breaking as it cashed to the polished stone. Two people stirred while the rest of the men just laughed.

“Now look at what you've done, quickly clean it up.” But the girl didn't move. It wasn't just wine spilling out onto the floor. A darker liquid was slowly seeping into the wine. The girl held her hands up as two other maids came to clean the mess. Large chunks of the shattered urn stuck out in painful ways from the skin. A quiet gasp was heard to her right where the Son and daughter-in-law stood. Another maid rushed out and put a towel over her hands, and dragged her away, where the maids, took the terra cotta out of her skin, cleaned the wounds, bandaged them, and sent her back out to serve. She went back twice to get her hands re-bandage, before they stopped bleeding. The main course was being served now, and she sat on her knees, head touching the ground next to her master. Whenever he demanded something, she would fetch it like a dog. Her lord wrote a note to the Son, and told her to pass it to him. She complied. As she handed the note to the man the Daughter-in-law asked

“Are your hands alright?” True concern showed in her eyes. The girl panicked and looked to her master to see if she could respond. He wasn't looking, that was odd to her. He was always watching her somehow. Like a third eye or something.

“You needn't worry about me ma'am.” She whispered in a rush, then took the reply note back to her master.

“She's a fine catch isn't she.” Her master's hand dropped to her back.

“Girl, stand up, let my men see the beauty I am blessed with.” She complied, standing slowly, her eyes on the ground. Her white hair was medium length, tied into two braids, reaching her middle back. Hazel eyes stared out from porcelain skin. A healthy tan was still noticeable from the hot summer months. She wore the clothes her master had picked out for her. A summer dress, flaring (and ending) at the middle of her thigh, and thin straps holding the material up. It was a deep red, complementing her skin tone, and sporting all the right places. She wore no shoes.

“And how many times might we ask have you taken this to your chambers lord?” A knight called from far down the table. Her master laughed.

“Dear man, she sleeps in my bed every night, but she is still innocent.” The men at the table laughed, and some asked how credible that statement was. Yes she had yet to lose her virginity, but her master had done many things that weren't so innocent to her. Her master picked her clean off the floor, and placed her on his lap, facing and straddling him. Some more hoots and hollers erupted from the table. She didn't leave his lap till the hall filled with music, and people began dancing. Even then, her master carried her to the podium where he sat to watch the proceedings. A man in dark clothing with lightish, darkish kind of hair asked her master if he could dance with her. Her master agreed with a laugh and a promise that she would be returned by the end of the song. She'd never danced with anyone but her master before, so she was shy.

“Good evening love. I do hope I'm not hurting your hands too much.” He tried for small talk, but she just stared at him as he spoke then stared with a panicked look over his shoulder. He turned her, as the song continued. Speak freely with me, I doubt your lord shall mind. Tell me, what is your name?” she hesitated again but spoke, her voice like silk on steel.

“TerraSistine.” She stopped as if battling herself to say something. Finally she spoke. He ate up the words, wanting to hear her again.

“What, may I ask, is the name of the man who has whisked me away from my prison?” She spoke very clearly and elegantly.

“Dark.” She smiled. He smiles. The song ended. Desserts were served. She stood in the middle of the hall waiting.

“May I escort you to your seat?” He offered an arm. A soft glint in his eye spoke volumes of how much he was enjoying this girl's time.

“No. I will. I fear you are getting much too comfortable with my slave Sir, and I feel I must steal her back from you.” The girl was dragged along by the elbow, her eyes never leaving the eyes of the man named Dark.

 

Some how they had moved into the living room. Naomi was sitting on the edge of her seat on the couch. Her mouth was hung open slightly, and she was staring at me as if i had just killed her puppy. I just sat still, basking in the rest of the memory, laughing silently to myself.

“Well? What happened next?” She stared at me expectantly. I shook my head, my short hair brushing the skin of my cheek, tickling me.

“That's is a story for another day, not to sound cliché.” The back of my eyes pricked, and I turned my head to the side. Frowning I turned to face Naomi. She had a pout on her face, her eyes demanding the rest of the story. Time to change the subject.

“So, come one, I told you my story, now yours.” She began to fidget again. I frowned again.

“Well, uumm, I was making something to eat and…” she stared up at me to register my reaction. I sat emotionless, my face dead-panned. “…uumm… and I came in here to lay down, `cause I was tired, and the next thing I know the fire detectors are going off.” She rushed out. Standing up I headed into the kitchen.

“Now that wasn't so hard now was it?” I didn't wait for an answer. She trailed after me, her head down.

“No, but, it's embarrassing.” She whined. We now stood in the supposed kitchen again.

“uuuhhh…” She moaned. She received a raised eyebrow.

“This place is going to take forever to clean out and rebuild, and I don't even have any black bags.” I shouldn't, I know I shouldn't. I shouldn't use too much of my energy with the little amount of sleep I had gotten.

“Man, I'm so stupid. I don't even think this wall is attached to the house any more.” Naomi put her hands on the fire slain wall and pushed. The whole structure gave a groan, but she pushed harder before I could stop her. The whole wall leaned outward, striking the ground with a bang as the upper floor started to sink. We each gave interesting chirps and squeaks of shock. Ok, it's decided. I dropped to the floor in the kitchen, sitting Indian style, and placed my hands (palm down) on my knees. I bowed my head over myself and chanted.

“Hife tro Nyph Dom” I pictured how I remembered the kitchen in my mind and shifted my hands to the floor just as the ceiling began crumbling. A soft blue light engulfed the room, us included, and when it dissipated, the kitchen stood, good as new. The wall was back, the ceiling was back in place and not threatening to fall on us and everything was clean and non-burnt. It was if the fire had never even been there. Naomi stilled had her eyes squeezed closing, waiting for the impact of the upper level, but opened her eyes when nothing happened. She just gaped, opening and closing her mouth in the act of a fish. I still sat on the floor, panting at the exertion of my task. Ma, was I going to be sore tomorrow.

 

 

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Ok, that's it for now. A little less then five pages. Please review. Thank you.