Horror Fan Fiction ❯ Anette: Testimony of Lives ❯ Act Four: That which Seperates the Beasts and Beauties ( Chapter 4 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Act Four: That Which Seperates the Beasts from the Beauties
In which Petros leaves me.

The moment we arrived at the Del Vwela manor was the moment I could tell whoever lived in the gloomy home standing tall behind the black iron gates, didn't like me. The aura was brimming with regret. For a moment there wasn't a sign of human life, with the exception of a couple lights burning in the windows of the manor. As we tromped down the gravelled straight-path of what would come to a roundabout circling a procelain fountain, motion caught my eye at the doorway. Standing in the beneath the magnificent greek-styled portico was a welcoming party. The carraiage halted and I got a clear view of the men and women standing on the porch.
Pushing down my irritation with a short swallow, I rose to make my debut with the gracious owner of the home. Petros put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me into my seat as he brushed by, particularly rudely I might add, before opening the door.
"My Lady Del Vwela, might I thank you once more for allowing Annette to stay here while she regains her memory!" His voice echoed with a cheery note. He stepped down from the carriage with an elegant bow, his priest's robes clattering heavily about him as his long dark hair swept over one shoulder. Then rising and turning to me, he offered a hand, his charming grin, and a wink. I huffed in irritatiton, declining the hand as I brushed it aside in favor of pulling up my small dress to decend the coach.
In the portico of the dark home stood a womn surrounded by her subordinants and servants, each with his or her head cast down. The woman was beautiful, to say the least. A fleshy one at that, and despite the elegant silver Victorian-underbust with matching blood red skirts and crisp white shirts, she managed to make it look terribly promiscuous. The gray underbust pushed her already full chest obscenely upward, an hour-glass figure complimenting the eyes. A throat about as mighty and graceful as a tower was adorned with a pretty red choker, lacing over her skin and sparkling with jewels with matching pearls to accent it, from her ears dangled drop-pearls, and her plump lips were ruby red. All in all, Lady Del Vwela was quite unexpected in such a dark place. Her tanned skin and tightly pulled back midnight coloured hair suggested her ethnicity was Spanish, if one hadn't quite already figured it out by hearing at her name.
I curtsied politely, my gaze having yet to leave her eyes, as I continued my curious study of my new guardian.
"I imagine I'm a bit of an inconvenience, milady. Thank you very much for your kindness in letting me stay here." I said, rising slowly.
The woman's face split into a sultry smile as her brows raised in surprise.
"My my my, Annette has learned some manners during her transitions." Lady Del Vwela laughed. "I'm suddenly looking forward to her stay here.. Petros."
Her eyes shifted to the priest behind me as they filled with something darker. Father Petros applied the lightest of pressure on the small of my back to push me forward.
"She's not but a child now, but believe me when I say it won't take long before she's the woman you remember, Manwella Del Vwella." He answered, his usual smile plastered over his face as he moved the both of us forward to march up the steps of her manor.
The doors opened wide for the three of us as we went inside to the waiting room. It in itself was enormous, with expensive woods, vases, plants, and chandaliers decorating it's interior. It was almost homely if not for the exotic woman standing in the middle of the room. I could tell by the overwhelming feeling of my stomach sinking into my shoes I would not enjoy my stay. One would normally look toward the brightsides of being coddled in a mansion, with money to spare and fret away on useless trinkets and such, but again: I've never found much meaning in such material things.
"I'm afraid the longest I can stay is only for a few hours. There are others that are to be tended at the church." Petros said quietly as Lady Del Vwella moved to through the doorway on her left.
"Of course, Father. You have many duties which you must attend to. We assure you of Annette's safety and wellbeing here for the next six months."
"My apologies for suspicion, Lady Del Vwella. Rumor of... interesting occurances reach my ears these days."
The Lady paused as she peered over her shoulder at Petros, who had dropped his foolish smile in favor of something that set the mood of the darkened home.
"All paranoia, I assure you, Father." She dipped her head in acknowledgment before moving out of another well furnished tea room towards a flight of stairs favoring a wall at the back of it. We trudged up the steps to another thin hall, where we passed four doors on our way down to reach the door at the end of it. Curiously enough, it seemed to be the only door in this particular hall with a lock to it. Lady Del Vwella unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, reaching in to pluck something from out of the right breast of her brazier. It was the brass key.
I watched the exchange with curiosity, having yet to say anything condemning of myself. Hoping to learn more about what I once was by merely listening to the two, I contented myself with simply following for the moment. We were admitted to a small study that, once Del Vwella lit the lamp, appeared to be of great use to someone. Papers were scattered about as well as stacks of books and pens in odd places. Shuffling some of the papers out of the two seats sitting in the corner of the room, Lady Del Vwella pulled them up for us before stepping lightly over more piles of paper and books.
"My apologies for the room, Senior Del Vwella doesn't admit people to his study very often."
Petros nodded as he eyed some of the papers on the floor, covered in a chicken-scratch cursive.
"So I see."
"Let us discuss the terms for Annette staying in the Del Vwella Manor. We want no reimbursment but for the use of an ally. We will continue to house her here until her memory has fully returned within the six ordained months."
Petros eyed her carefully, any hint of a smile gone from his minutely charming face.
"No."
Both myself and Lady Del Vwella were taken aback.
"No?!" She hissed at Petros. I could understand her anger, for I was rather irritated myself for his blatant refusal for something so petty.
"Not until you have proven yourself on your part. After six months we will pledge to allyship should we deem you worthy of protection." He answered flatly. Del Vwella seemed to writhe at this.
"You must understand, Father Petros, that Myself and my Husband are in short supply of fellow believers and allies with which to fall back on in our current state." She argued. "One word from you and Annette would be precious to our exhistence in Rome!"
Petros was firm.
"The Baronness Girsterre herself made me swear an oath not to ally ourselves with anyone we saw unworthy, and Annette is far from making those kinds of judgements. My deepest apologies to your, your husband, and your household, but we cannot offer you such protection until your household has proven its weight."
I was completely confused. When Petros referred to we, I wondered if he was meaning myself and him. It was highly unlikely, for in my state he was absolutly right. I wasn't fit to guard a kitten, much less a household. There was something I was sure to be missing, something of utmost gravity that I wanted not to overlook.
"We?" I asked. Petros glanced at me before dropping his stoic facade and smiling kindly at me.
"I'm afraid you are still too young to understand as of yet."
I was furious, to say the least. Too young? Yet I had experienced afterglow, dreamt of a marriage to this man, and had duties yet to be named to someone I had yet to meet in a lifetime I had already lived. I snapped up out of my chair, brimming with anger. Who was he to tell me I was too young? It was by far the silliest thing I'd heard that day.
"Too young? Listen to yourself, Petros!" I snapped. "You speak to me of a lifetime we spent together and make jokes that have meaning to married couples, most of which I understand! And yet here you are telling me the first of something that could improve my memory and you say I'm too little?! Are you out of your mind!"
He simply stared while Lady Del Vwella sat back and smirked, enjoying the show. Ooh, I was far from letting her enjoy such an experience.
"Don't even laugh at him, Del Vwella. I can already tell you and I were never on good ground, and the only reason I'm even here would be for political gain on your family's part."
Her smirk turned into a scowl. Petros lifted his hands in surrender, attempting to speak.
"I'll have no more dishonesty with you, Petros. Don't come back to me until you promise to tell me nothing more than the truth." I said before he could belt anything out. Then, spinning on one heel with no clue as to where I was going, I marched out of the office and slammed the door behind me. I did have every right to be irritated with them, but just walking out without knowledge of the grounds did have me feeling like a bit of a fool. Nevertheless, I picked up my first nervous habit from that meeting: In attempt to ward off the uncertainty and fear welling up in my chest, I tucked my hands into the folds of my dress, wringing them without mercy, and walked forward to explore the home. According to Petros these days, I only do that when I'm worried, (hence it being labeled a nervous habit) frightened, or angry. Looking around the halls, I decided to back track to the front room and go up the wide-set stairs. That was more than likely where servants would come and go, and I was eager to find my things.
While at the orphanage, I refused to open the trunk for fear it contained something nobody needed to see. When I had reached my destination, I sat on the first step with my chin in hand, tapping my feet and twiddling my thumbs to pass the time before a servant finally tripped over my shoes. A young lady did stop finally and kneel down to ask me very politely if I'd like to be escorted to my room.
"Please." I answered with an earnest look of gratitude on my face. She nodded, completely charmed by my childish manner and took me by the hand to lead me to my new home. I was no more comforted as I walked through the home that I would enjoy my stay here. Everything was dark, and the smell was that of an empty warehouse. Nothing smelled of anything here, not even the scents of new or old. As we found our way through halls and rooms, I noted this same odd attribute with the flowers. Upon closer inspection, I found they were simply expensive fake flowers. Tacky, if you will.
The maid and I arrived where they had taken my trunk and other garments, bowing and welcoming me to the room.
"Is there anything I can get for you, Lady Gisterre?" She said with a bright smile. At least it was lighting the dim room.
"No thank you." I said sweetly, dismissing her from the room with a big fake smile of my own to reassure her of my happiness. She bowed once more before heading back the way she'd come. I trotted to the door, watching for her to disappear from the hall before closing the door and locking it carefully. My curiosity had been quelled in the orphanage, but I had no need to hold back here. Fishing my own key out of a pocket I'd sewn beneath all of undergarments (which, believe me, I did indeed have time to do), I went to the blood-stained trunk that had traveled with me from Viareggio with my heart beating in anticipation. What had my adoptive mother put into the trunk that I had felt so protective over? I knew that Maria Antoinette DeGarcia had very well given her life to protect what was in that trunk by giving the key to me, and I had to know just what it was that was so precious to the both of us. Glancing once more at the door, I licked my lips nervously before sliding the key into the brass lock of the trunk. It clicked when I turned it and popped open when the lock released. Taking one deep breath, I prepared myself for whatever was to come....
Knock knock knock!
I jumped harshly at the sound, slamming the trunk back down with the least of noise as I answered.
"What?"
Scolding myself, I urged my heart to slow down and my tone to lower.
"Annette?"
It was Petros, I scowled.
"I don't feel the need to speak with you for the moment, Father." I sang sweetly to the door, glaring at it. There was an exasperated sigh on the other side of the door.
"Annette, please don't be like this."
"Why not? If I am too young to be treated like an adult, than might I act as the child I'm supposed to be?" I quipped, crossing my arms. Another sigh sounded.
"My sincerest regrets for this door." He said to another being outside. A loud familiar crack startled me as the door broke away from the hinge.
And then I heard Maria Antoinette DeGarcia's screaming fill the room as she struggled to break free from the creature pursuing her.
Instinct told me to hide beneath the bed before the trespasser could get his hands on me, and out of reflex I did, throwing myself to the floor and sliding beneath the bed in the middle of the room, cowering in fear of the monster that had killed Mother.
I don't know why I had done what I did back then. Perhaps it is simply because of a memory, what happened that terrible day everything went so wrong. Perhaps it was the shock of what had happened. Or even the knowledge that whatever that monster was, he was out looking for me that triggered such a reaction. All I know and remember was that I was terrified out of my mind of the sound that door had made when the Father broke it open in his attempt to get at me. Nothing was safe, and the monster had come to claim me.
"Annette?" the Father's voice came. "Annette? Annette!"
I shuddered, fearing the worst if I came out from under the bed as I watched his shoes twirl around in the room in search of me. He finally got on his hands and knees and knelt to look under the bed. I hid my eyes from him, which were insistent on crying as I remembered the blood and those awful sounds filling the room of my childhood home.
"Oh, little Annette.." He cooed, reaching for me. He crawled closer to gather my frightened form together and pulled me out, cradling me tenderly as he brushed my hair away. "I didn't mean to scare you, Little Annette."
Frustration was lying beneath his voice. I turned my stinging eyes to him, seeing his spirit turn blue and purple with weariness and worry.
"Don't cry, please, Annie. I hadn't meant to frighten you." He pleaded softly, his silver eyes blending out his blue ones as he caressed the tears away from my cheeks. "You just.."
He paused, the purple fading to red.
"You see... You must understand Annette, this is harder than it looks." He sighed as he sat the both of us on the bed, rocking my small form tucked away in his lap.
"I don't understand.." I whispered hoarsely, tears barred from spilling over.
"I have need to comfort you in the ways I remember how to, but cannot." He said quietly as he tilted my head back to see the sincerety in his eyes. "It is... tense when one wants to spread his wings and wrap them around his lover but can't for fear of breaking the last of her sanity."
Father Petros frustrations were palpable, and what made it all the worse was that somehow I felt the need to be comforted the way he meant for it to happen. Even without the adult body I had been used to, I instinctually craved him as a companion.

"The Lord means for us to be strong for the faith, but that doesn't mean we can't cry every now and again, Little Annette." He soothed, feathering his fingers comfortingly along her spine as he lay close to the woman's curled form with one arm propped up to hold his head up.
"I know He won't give me more than I can handle..." The woman said quietly, choking on the next line. "I just wish he wouldn't trust me so much..."

"You have better things to do than sit here and upset yourself trying to find ways to comfort the both of us." I said quietly, wishing him away. Deep down, I hadn't want for his pain and I could tell he wasn't enjoying a moment of my transformation in his eyes.
"What was the hiding all about, Annette?" He asked softly. I took a deep breath to clear the stinging tears from my eyes and shook my head of the silly emotion that had reared its head.
"Nothing. It was nothing." I said, my voice clearing even as I spoke. He bounced me gently in his lap, earning a solid glare from myself.
"Come now, you can tell me."
I landed a fairly decent punch to his solar plexus as I leapt away from the Father.
"Was that necessary?"
"Not really."
I pointed towards the door.
"Shouldn't you be leaving?"
He gave me a look of feigned hurt.
"Ever so cruel, little Annette!" He whined, ruffling my hair as he passed. I swung my hand at him again, following him out of my new room before pausing in the ever darkening hall.
"Petros..." I started, hesitating. The tall black haired man with deep blue eyes turned, his face soft as though he was sure of what was coming. It was certainly the last thing I'd wanted to say, but knew it needed to be said. For both our sakes.
"You know we won't see one another.. For a long time. Right?" I started. He simply stood there, his face still soft, eyes knowing. Neither of us moved for a long moment, the silence growing thick with underlying meaning. Petros' eyes were grazing up and down my body, trying to memorize every new feature. Knowing him, he was imagining just who he was going to be seeing another ten years from now. Leave it to Petros to take the sadness out of a parting.
"Of course not. Don't be silly, Annie." He chuckled. "I'll be visiting whenever I land the chance."
I exhaled sharply in frustration, jamming one hand into my hair.
"Curse you, Petros! Thats not what...!" I grasped for an explanation as I turned and pulled on a thick lock. "You and I! I am.. You... You just don't understand, Pe-"
I didn't get the chance to finish my uneducated fluster of words, for Petros had appeared before me, kneeling, and placing an index finger on my wide open mouth for silence.
"Annette." He said, face and tone serious. "I understand what you want, but you can't decide that for the both of us. I don't want to lose you again. Four years of solitude was enough to drive me mad with loneliness. I don't know that I could take another ten years of it."
Now I truly wanted to cry for what he said. When one endures loneliness, he could be surrounded by a sea of people, in a swarming town, filled with bustling life; and still be lonely. Anybody knowing what even a sorrowful day without the aid of even one smile should know what I speak of. Petros' voice at that time scarred me. How could I tell him? How could I let him know that moving away from the sword is what would save him from being stabbed slowly as he moved forward.
"Don't do this to me, Petros." His hand moved to cup my cheek. "Please, knowing what I want is right in front of me would tempt the both of us beyond all knowing. I'm only working for whats best for both of us!"
"You don't know if thats whats best for both of us!" He argued, his hand clenching. I pulled at it with both of my hands.
"I do Petros! Look at you!" I cried, shaking his possesive hand. "Would you be able to resist when I do come to age? And what if I'm still not ready then?!"
"I don't know!" Petros roared, startling me as he jumped up from me. "I don't know, Annie, but I just know, that without you, for even another day, is going to hurt just as much as being without you for the rest of my life, alright?! That God is making me wait so long to have you again is-""Teaching you patience." I said quietly. His eyes were no longer blue as he stared wildly at me. Pressure built inside the hall with his raging emotions. My body felt compressed, and it was becoming difficult for me to breath.
"Just a little longer, love." I said softly, meeting him halfway. "I will do everything in my power, to learn a little faster, grow a little taller. Just a little more. Please."
The pressure faded, and his eyes began to bleed blue again as they filled with sorrowful longing. He took one quick step forward and knelt in one fluid motion, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before gently and quickly kissing me on the cheek. He rose again and headed for the stairs, pausing on the first one.
"I won't return for a time to come. Please take care until then." He said.
There it was. The compromise on both our parts. In that one sentence, time as long as years stretched between us like thousands of miles. I would look back and laugh at how silly the both of us were being at the time, and how the years had truly passed as though it was only a blink of the eye. In that time, we would most certainly grow closer together, and I promise to elaborate... When the time comes for it in the story.
But that night he left. Trusting me, to be faithful to him, and trusting himself to be able to wait only a moment longer.