Fan Fiction ❯ chase after the wind ❯ 7 ( Chapter 7 )

And if you feel in my heart that i long for revenge

Please blame it on the sun of the mournin

Thanks Again Jay Z

The place reeked of old times and old days. The structure itself seemed a cry back to a long forgotten time. It was here that the gateway to another world stood. Neatly staked on it's decrepit and diminishing walls, with high gothic ceilings and old pillars, sat portals to other worlds. Some of them past and some future, but each of them expression a truth that could not be spoken out loud, only hinted at. Yes, if there was one place to find what it meant to be human, it was in this structure. Yet it seemed forsaken, left with no one to pay heed to its wisdom, aside from a few outcastes. Even the grass, which was yellow, seemed past it's time.

She stood for a few seconds, just staring at the structure. The gargoyles loomed menacingly overhead and old curses from old priest echoed anew in her mind. She was both attracted to and repulsed by the structure. It was as it had entranced her in a song of antiquity that she could not remember, but was condemned never to forget. She was interrupted by the cabbies rough and out of place voice, saying "10 euros"

Without thought she reached into her pocket and handed him the money, saying "keep the change." He made to drive away and then hesitated. It was as if he had a great weight on his mind. Finally he spoke "Lady, this is 100 euros..."

She looked at him for the first time. He was an old man, with deeply tan skin and aged hands. He gave off a smell that was rather like cabbage, though the odor was not strong enough to be placed. He wore large glasses and dressed very economically. He was an old man who seemed to, at least in her mind, sound broken. They had spoken ten words to each other, tops, and yet she felt that he had very little if anything within him. His eyes now confirmed this, as empty and desolate as a black hole. Yet there was something that had fought its way to the top and now made its presence known. A certain dignity hung within his dark eyes. ` It's Hayate's money, stained with blood... I don't want or need it, what would I do with it? Perhaps he can put it to good use...He... I don't need it and besides, losing that much money might be enough to get him to look at me again, instead of look through me...' "Keep it" she repeated, in the same listless manor

"Jesus... Um... I... Thank you..." He said, seemingly on the verge of tears

` Why' she thought, ` it is just money, what good does it do you?' She smiled though, he didn't know enough to not treat her like a person. It was refreshing to be spoken to in such human terms

He spoke again "There isn't a phone in there... suppos'in I come back in a hour or so? Would that work for you?" he said

"Whatever" was her reply

He then drove away. The cab kicked up dust as it drove back towards the road. The driveway was dirt and the slightest disturbance seemed to cause a torrent of dust. The sun fell through the dust and became momentarily visible and, for an instant, it appeared as though the cab left a trail of light in it's wake. Her eyes followed it and it's strange driver to the road. She then walked to the door and opened it.

Instantly she was taken in by a gush of cool air. It seemed unusually cold, but it was none the less refreshing. The inside of the building had a certain cheer, in spite of the gloom. It had the musty smell of old books and older men. The lighting streamed in through the side window, illuminating several tables. A few sat in the sun and browsed through periodicals or books. Thus area was the bad portion of the town. From what she could gather, the rich people owned and lived in the hotels and employed these folks. They were by no means unsavorily, just more down to earth and real.

"May I help you, dear?" came a voice from behind. She turned and saw what she assumed to be the owner of this establishment. She had never been in one of these libraries before, but somehow this woman seemed to fit the bill. She had glasses that dangled around her neck on a string and a kindly but distant look in her eye. She seemed to be happy, somehow or other.

"Yes, I need a book... Paradise lost..."

"Ahh, the fall of 2 sons of god..." the woman said, simply. Then "David... could you be a dear and come here please..."

Then the building seemed to open itself up and bring forth this David fellow. He came from the innermost part of the building, coming with a spacey and distant look in his eyes. He was about Ayane's age, though he was much less athletic. He approached the two of them, not really noticing them much. He had hair that was long enough to provide a certain amount of scruffiness, but, on the whole, he seemed to radiate a general apathy. It seemed as though the world didn't matter one way or another. He walked with a certain dullness and his legs fell onto the ground, echoing into nothing. That is until he saw Ayane.

He was, apparently, used to dealing with older people because, the second his eyes fell on her, his head shot down and a redness became apparent in his checks. He acted as though it was so kind of a horrific deed to look upon Ayane and he did everything in his power to look away. She couldn't help but allow a slight smile. She had become accustomed to men in the village staring at her and knew the perversions that ran rampant within their minds. But he seemed different then them, less bold and less assertive.

"You know where Paradise lost is, yes?" A quick nod, eyes still on the ground... "By Milton, yes?" another nod... "This young lady would like it, take her to it at once..." The woman said, then she turned back behind the counter.

"T- This way..." He said, eyes still on the ground.

There was something very amusing in all this that Ayane couldn't help but enjoy. He was so honest. She had been taught never to show true emotion and never to allow oneself to do what he was now doing. He had an honesty that she didn't encounter much any more. She somehow knew that with him, what you saw was what you got. He had a complete lack of pretense and she found that poetically refreshing, somehow. She followed quietly, relishing the moment.

After a few moments, they reached a shelf and the boy's hands began to run along the shelves, searching. He seemed to loose himself in this activity, for he began to speak to her in a much more secure voice. It was as if they had entered his world. "Paradise lost, eh? That is a hard one, I got to say... Still though, that shows a good deal of taste on your part... People our age are often to wrapped up in trifles..." he said this with disgust... "to notice finer things... Then again, I may be to caught up in this to notice finer things to so..."

"What is it about?" She asked, still a bit of amusement playing in her voice.

"Well, it is about the fall of a noble rebel from paradise, or the excommunication of a rouge evil villain, depending who you ask..."

"How can one be both?" She asked

"It is all a matter of interpreting it... Great works are great because they work on so many levels. There is a contradiction in humanity itself and the books crystallize it. It is another world entirely, a world of spirits and ideals. Of things to great for I to behold. Of angels..." At that his glance turned upward to look at her. He no longer had the same amount of fear. He was rolling now and, although he looked at her, it was as if he had been possessed. "and demons..." he looked back to the shelves...

After a few more seconds of silence, "Ahh, ask and ye shall find..." he had been hunched over and now rose to his fully erect position, "seek and ye shall find."

"Thanks" she said. He then came back into himself and, at once, his eyes shot back to the ground. He then descended back into the void of the library, eyes still downcast. She thought to herself that he would be the one whom she would seek out if she became stuck within the pages of the aged volume that she now held.

She looked down on it. It was a worn and old copy. It's pages were musty and yellowed. It had, embroidered on the front in worn pee yellow that was, no doubt, once imitation gold "Paradise lost." It seemed somehow fitting...

She opened the book, at random, trying to get a feel for it. It said " For only in destroying I find ease

To my relentless thoughts; and, him destroyed,

Or won to what may work his utter loss,

For whom all this was made, all this will soon

Follow, as to him linked in weal or woe;

In woe then; that destruction wide may range:*"

And she knew that within this aged book, a kindred spirit screamed out to her in the night.

( notes; 1 a bit to shorter, but well... the quote is from Paradise lost, book 9... And thanks for everyone who reviews this... I really appreciate the encouragement... Not much action, sorry about that and sorry if it was a bit cutey to... )