Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Single Rose Garden ❯ Prison Break ( Chapter 2 )

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

Chapter Two
Prison Break
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“Mel, this isn't a good idea.”
She glanced back at him and giggled dementedly, her ponytail swaying with the movement of her head. “Don't be such a coward, Chris. Now help me get over the gate.”
He stood back, folding his arms over his chest and watched as she struggled to climb up and over the gate. Her foot kept slipping on the metal and several times he caught her just before she went crashing to the floor. A few times she had asked, pleaded for help, and he ignored her each time. Finally she gave up, shooting him a dark look that perplexed him.
That was twenty minutes ago.
She slid back down to the floor onto her knees and sighed. His smugness vanished at her defeated stare at the gate, and he walked over to her, lightly tapping her shoulder. “Just forget about it, won't you? It was a stupid idea anyway.”
She stiffened. “It's not stupid.”
Chris realized his blunder, stepping away from her and looking off into the distance. She fell silent, still staring at the gate, and he heard a sniffle, sensed her trembling, and was assaulted with a waft of the salt of her tears. He peered around her shoulder, brushed her ponytail back over her shoulder and peered into her face. “What are you crying for? It's not worth it,” He shrugged offhandedly. “Let's just go back inside.”
Her eyes flashed and she bared her fangs, hissing slightly. He recoiled from her flare of anger. “I just want to get to spend some time with you outside of these gates! Why can't I get out of here?”
Chris blinked. “I can show you how to get over the gates, Mel. It's not that---“
She looked up at him from under her lashes, something unfamiliar and heartbreaking drowning out the anger, and she drew up suddenly, shoving her hands in his face.
He stiffened against the faint scent of blood burning his nose and grabbed her wrists, clumsily pushing her hands back so he could see them better. With a sharp growl, he lightly trailed one finger over the bleeding burn marks on her skin where her flashed had been seared, tightening his hold on her wrist when she tried to snap away. His teeth drew together with a snap when she tried to roughly withdraw from him. He thoroughly checked each hand, his eyes darkening with every passing moment.
Finally she snatched her hands away, holding them to her chest protectively and refusing to meet his sharp, angry eyes. “Do you understand now? For years they made sure I couldn't leave.”
Chris balled his hands together at his sides, digging his claws into his palms. He ignored the sting, instead focusing on her face, the pained emotion that flashed in her eyes. “You already knew about the gate.” It wasn't a question.
She nodded. “I tried before, to . . .” His eyes squeezed closed, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “To come see you.”
She seen something flicker across his face, something remarkable close to the emotion he used to carry along so long ago before his eyes opened again and stared at her with an intensity that made her breath hitch. Pale blue eyes intensified by anguish, his clenched ticking jaw the only clue to his inner turmoil, and he reached for her hands again, ignoring when she tried to pull away from him. He glanced at the burn marks again, his eyes smoldering. Fluidly he stood up, bringing her with him.
“What--?” She managed to breathe out just before his arms swept behind her knees, and he drew her up off of the floor and cradled her close to his chest. A furious blush broke out on her face, and she glanced at him in alarm. “Wait---!”
“Hold on,” He growled fiercely, and she scarcely had time to wrap her arms around his neck as he took off in a blindingly face sprint, running towards the direction of the main gate. She heard faint shouts, the footsteps of dozens of guards running after him. She glanced over his shoulder and gasped.
“Oh, no! Chris!”
He glanced back and grinned, tightening his hold on her. She responded in kind, watching as suddenly they were airborne, the trees whizzing by so fast below them a headache erupted behind her eyes. She felt as if she was floating, as if gravity had granted her this special blessing for just a few seconds, and she looked up to see him staring at her. “Are you okay?”
Breathless, and at a loss for words, she nodded. She felt the soft jolt of him landing on ground, squeezing her eyes against the trees whirling on both sides of her, and moments later opened her eyes when she recognizes the odd sensation of floating. They repeated this a couple of times before she felt him land again and turn sharply, making her body shift and her fingers tighten around his neck.
When everything became still, she heard a loud bustle in the background and pulled her face away from his chest. They were in a dark alley, wedged between two incredibly tall buildings; so tall that she couldn't see the top of them no matter how far she craned her neck. He was pressed against the wall; breathing hard and shrinking back into the shadows as a bunch of castle guards bustled by, yelling directions to each other. He glanced down at her for a couple of seconds, breathing hard and quickly, an accomplished smirk on his face. Moments passed and the grin faded, the excitement in his eyes dying back down to the dull ice that she was accustomed to.
“How do you feel?”
“I'm fine,” She assured him, yet she flinched when he moved to set her on her feet. Slowly, he allowed her legs to slide down the length of his body and he kept a hand at her back to steady her. She gripped his shirt tightly, staring around her surroundings nervously, her nose twitching madly, and he laughed.
“It burns,” She whined.
“Because it's so many people,” He told her, taking her hand and hurrying her to the end of the alley. He peered in both directions and hurriedly stepped out. Her hand tightened on his instantly as they were swept up in the mob of people, and he pulled her close to him, wrapping one arm around her waist. Melody's eyes were wide, astounded, and she glanced around at all the people, her eyes moving everywhere at once.
A man on a motorbike rushed past her, and she yelped, digging her face into his chest. A couple of people looked at her curiously. Chris pulled her face up to look at him. “Hey, everything's fine. It was just a bike.”
“Just a bike,” She repeated absently, blushing when she noticed the people staring at her. She tore away from him and began walking again.
They passed many different places, a small group of children on a trip with their preschool, a group of teenagers hanging out (she laughed when the girls stared at Christian, amazed). He bought her some of the different foods, showed her the different jewelry that was sold from people who traveled all over the world. Watched as she irrationally burst into tears at the captivity of a small, pathetic black moor gold fish. For ten minutes she cried over the fish, for ten minutes he continued walking, trying to ignore her. Finally he whirled around, staring at her for a couple of seconds. Then he took her hand and walked back the way they came, throwing down a couple of bills and pointing at the stupid fish.
Moments later they sat on a bench in the nearby park, she happily held the bag of water with the aforementioned fish inside of it, shaking the bag gently.
“Keep it up, and you'll kill it before we get back to the castle.” He grumbled.
She glanced at him and stuck her tongue out, giggling as she placed her finger on the bag and the fish, seemingly amazed, drifted towards it. “He's so cute, isn't he?”
“It's a fish.”
“He's a cute fish,” She corrected with a sigh. She scooted closer to him, pretending she didn't notice how he instinctively flinched away from her and laid her head on his shoulder. “It's been a long day.”
“You're exhausted,” He said softly, shifting so that she was more comfortable.
He took the fish from her and she automatically wrapped her arms around his midsection, smiling sleepily. “No, I just need to rest for a little bit, that's all.”
They fell silent, Christian staring at the stupid fish and Melody day dreaming for a little bit. After a bit of time, he felt her shiver against the breeze and sighed. Her eyes tightened around him, and he gently stood up, lifting her with him. “Time to get you back home.”
She pouted but didn't argue, breaking into a grin when he placed the bag with the fish back into her hands. Releasing one, she slipped it into his and he stared at it for a bit, caught off guard. But finally he glanced at her and smiled softly, and they began to walk, their gait slow and easy. He noticed her fatigue suddenly, the dimness in her eyes, the slow, careful way she walked, and he grated his teeth together.
Melody noticed his chagrin. “I had fun today, Christian. Thank you,”
“You should be thankful, since Brendan's gonna kill me as soon as he finds out.”
She didn't answer, preoccupied in a group of children surrounding this man with a large cart of ice and barrels of sweet smelling liquid. She heard him laugh next to her, and when he spoke his voice was low in her ear, soft and amused. “You want a snow-ball?”
“Snow . . . ball?”
He smirked and pulled her along with him to the cart, and the man noticed them and grinned. He dipped his age baseball cap in respect to Melody, and winked at her “What canna' gets ya, Beautiful?”
Chris glanced over at Melody; saw her sniffing in the direction of the syrup bottles. “Two small strawberries, please.”
The man nodded, and Chris grimaced as he began scraping the ice. Melody's hands tore from his and smacked over her ears; the man in charge of the stand grinned apologetically. Moments later he handed them the two snow-balls, Melody's dripping with syrup, and Christian led Melody back over to a nearby bench.
She sniffed at her snow-ball and glanced at him worriedly. Chris rolled his eyes and took a spoonful, pretending he didn't notice her staring at him. Slowly, she stuck her tongue out against it, and her eyes lit up. Taking a spoonful, she jammed it into her mouth.
And squealed.
Chris laughed as her face exploded in color, as she squealed in shock against the ice touching her gums. When she finally died down, she punched him in the shoulder, still trembling from the sensation of the last of the ice working its way away from her teeth. Lesson learned, she took a small spoonful.
When her body suddenly went rigid, Chris assumed she had greedily taken a large bite again. But after a few moments, he worriedly glanced at her. “Hey, you okay?” The snow-ball slipped from between her fingers, dropping onto the floor and splashing on her legs. She didn't even flinch. “Mel? What's the matter?”
Turning towards him, she reached out and touched his face, as if she was trying to memorize something. Her eyes were glazed over, blank. “Isaac?”
“Mel? Who is Isaac? What's wrong?”
A single tear fell from her eyes; her hands went limp on his face. And she collapsed.
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“He's going to kill me,”
Jake snorted. “He might not kill you, but it'll be damn close.”
Christian shuffled his feet as Jake tucked the blankets under Melody's chin. Sinking back with a deep sigh, his father looked over at him with mild disproval, and Chris quickly looked away. Indignation flared within him, but no matter what he said, he knew he was to blame.
“What were you thinking?”
Chris opened his mouth to defend himself, and snapped it shut. He sighed. “I wasn't.”
Jake shook his head. “She was exhausted. I can't believe she lasted this long. Her count is fried, her heart rate all over the place.” His tone softened. “You know you have to be careful with her, Chris. You should have taken it easy.”
“I know,” He snapped, frustrated. Running his fingers through his hair, brushing his hair back out of his face, Chris turned towards the door, shoulders slumped. “I know.”
After she had collapsed, he had cradled her in his arms, momentarily stupefied as to what he should do. When he had finally gained his wits, he scooped her up and soared across the buildings, using his shoulder to barrel through the door and startling Jake and his previous patient.
The phone rang suddenly, jarring the both of them. Jake glanced at it and waved his hand towards it. “We both know it's for you.”
“It's your hospital,” Christian muttered, ignoring she sharp look Jake shot him and dragging his feet to answer the phone anyhow.
Pushing the button to connect the call, he brought it to his ear. “Madam, I'm so sorry.”
Kelly's soft sigh drifted to him on the phone, as well as Brendan's raging in the background. She said something to him; the sound muffled, and although he quieted down Christian could faintly pick up his swearing. “How is she?”
Christian glanced at the girl in question, her face completely peaceful, innocent; a shadow of a little girl he met almost twelve years ago. “She's sleeping now; Jake says she'll be fine.” He paused. “I'm sorry.”
He heard Brendan's snarl in the background. “Why the hell would he steal her out of the castle?” He raged. “What if something had happened to her?”
“Brendan!” Kelly hissed.
But Christian felt his jaw click, and he snarled in reply. “She wanted to see the Kingdom that her father rules. The same father that cursed the gate---the same father that held his own daughter prisoner since the day she was born!”
“Why you little---“ His comment was cut off, and he heard Kelly make a soft sound of distress in her throat.
She murmured something to Brendan, once again covering the mouth of the phone with her palm. Moments later he heard the sharp slamming of a door. It was silent for a moment. Then, “Christian, are you there?”
He took a deep breath, and counted to ten. “Yes.”
Kelly sighed. “I'm sorry,” She finally admitted. “It may seem cruel, but it's for the best.”
Christian turned and leaned against the wall, seeing Jake brush Melody's hair from her forehead, but knew he was listening all the same. He tried to take some of the hostility from his voice, but had no idea whether or not he was successful. “It's for the best? What about what she wants? She's never, ever been out of the castle, Kelly. She knew what the gate would do to her, and she still tried to get out. Doesn't that mean anything to you?”
“She . . . touched the gate?” Kelly sounded horrified.
Christian felt his eyes narrow, heard the ice in his voice. “She tried to climb it. She grabbed it for twenty minutes, and didn't so much as flinch.”
“It'll take us two days to get back,” Kelly quietly told him. “Can you . . . can you take her back to the castle?”
Christian felt his hands tighten on the phone, and it creaked in alarm. Jake cleared his throat nervously. “If she wants to go back, I'll take her back. If not, she'll be safe with me and Jake.”
Kelly sighed again. “Okay then. Please take care of her, Christian.” She whispered before disconnecting the call.
Chris stood there with the phone in his hands for a couple of moments before dropping it back onto the charger. He turned and found Jake standing to his feet, looking at him expectantly. Instead, Chris took his seat next to Melody. “Why don't you get some sleep? I'll stay here with her.”
Jake stared for a moment, and slowly nodded before turning on his heel and striding away.
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It was so dark. She couldn't see anything, not even her hands in front of her own face. She walked until her legs burned, until her lungs felt as if they would burst and the feeling in her feet erupted into thousands of painful pinpricks against her delicate skin.
And still she walked.
She had no idea where she was going. No idea where she was. She just knew she had to keep walking, that eventually she would come into contact with whatever she needed to find in this pitch black hole. She felt sweat drip down her spine, running along the back of her legs and splashing on the ground obscenely loud.
Someone was here.
Their scent, pinewood soaking in the blood of a hundred men, made her heart start then stop again in terror. It invaded her nose, obliterated her senses and made it hard for her to breath. It was everywhere, making her skin crawl and her blood burn. Grabbing her hair in fistfuls, she squeezed her eyes closed and focused on taking small breaths out of her mouth. “Never kill a human,” Her father had always taught her. “Life is equal, no matter the blood running through our veins.”
The voice laughed at her thoughts, making her feel as though she were a little child again. She shivered as something brushed against, hard and cold, rough and bone chilling. It danced its way up her arms and around her fingers, running into her head that and back down her spine. “Do you thirst for human blood, my daughter?”
The voice was oddly sweet and loving, enticing and beautiful. Like a thousand harmonies, captivating and persuasive. The bile wrenching scent of blood slowly faded into something floral, sweet and honey like. Slowly her hands dropped from her hair and she sighed, taking a deep breath. Her lungs rejoiced in the feeling.
But she still couldn't see anything.
The voice seemed to be coming everywhere at once as it clucked it tongue at her. She sensed it disapproval and frowned. Something pricked at the back of her skull, screaming something to her, but it seemed so muffled and far away. Something brushed against her arm again and she cringed. “Don't be afraid. I'm here to help you.”
`Help me?' Had she spoken the words, or thought them? But as soon she worried about it, she knew it didn't matter which way she said it. The daunting voice still heard her, and it made a sound of delight.
“Yes, to help you, Daughter of Zeya.”
She felt a vague disapproval, not understanding where this sudden distrust stemmed from, but hating whatever encouraged it all the same. She felt herself frown, an ache erupted in the middle of her skull, and she grimaced. Cool hands brushed against her forehead, and she heard a shriek of rage, a howl of outrage before the darkness began to dissipate, a familiar blue hovering over her face. She blinked a couple of times, her mind slowly ticking together the ice blue eyes, the impossible silver hair, the gentle claws pushing her hair out of her face, and she smiled weakly. “Hey, you.” She whispered.
He smiled weakly, shaking his head and sighing.
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Nature Does Nothing Uselessly.
-Aristotle