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| [DNR] Failure; Love Short Story | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mon Sep 11, 2017 6:49 pm (24 Views) | |
| ♥Cordelia Brooks | Mon Sep 11, 2017 6:49 pm Post #1 |
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In Balefire there stood a small house without a lantern by its broken door. It was the only one on the swerving lane without one. Swathed in a darkness the others weren't, the house appeared unfriendly and trapped in solitude. From the overgrown lawn to the roof shorn of shingles, the house's emptiness haunted the street. Part of the siding was gone, perhaps lost to a storm or to the rage of a great beast. The front windows were not broken because there were no front windows. The house festered in its own abandonment, and radiated with the melancholy of tragedy. The house, Cordelia realized, was as broken as her family was now. Stepping quickly up the sidewalk, she tried the doorknob, and found the door was purely well-disguised decoration. As soon as she touched it, the hinges fell away from the threshold. Pushing the plank of wood aside, Cordelia entered the shadows of her former home, carrying her own lantern to light the way. Its flame pulsed like a nervous heart in the dark. Rats squeaked and scattered. Water stains marred the carpet, and the furniture was irreparably damaged by storms and the clawing paws of wild animals. A bookcase stood against the wall. Upon closer inspection Cordelia saw the books were equally warped by rain and snow. A frown pulled at her mouth as she realized they were children's books. The son and daughter had been so young, and now they were adults, and had grown without her. Years later, she could not determine whether or not her reemergence disrupted or enhanced their lives. They knew that their mother lived, but she didn't remember them, and the mystery of her disappearance was no closer to being solved. For the children—the boy, Kaiden, especially—she could locate the feeling of fondness deep within her crooked heart, but that was not quite love. She had loved their father, once, but couldn't find that affection now. The children she had loved fiercely, but now she lacked such passion—her love was passive, something she could conjure only if she thought of them and focused. Eliel she might have loved, if Manic's accusation of adultery were true, but she couldn't remember, and Eliel had never told her whether or not she returned his affections, probably so as not to sway her in this new life. Hearne she loved, but that love, too, was not something she felt conscious of until crisis called for it. Moving on from the sitting room, she found first Kaiden's room, and looked through it briefly. There was nothing of interest for her here. It seemed bare. He must have taken most of his things to Striberg. In the next bedroom, she was confronted by the bed she'd shared with her husband, and stood for a moment looking at the ruined, ragged sheets, the split pillows, the turned mattress. Clothes spilled from still-opened drawers. The window was open. Beneath it, ants swarmed the carcass of a cicada. Reaching into her coat pocket, Cordelia pulled on a pair of black leather gloves and opened every closed drawer, looking for anything that might help her piece together her disappearance. In the open drawers, she pushed aside haphazard clothes and bugs. There was nothing here for her now. In the next room, she heard claws tapping against the floor. Claws larger than those of a rat's. Unsheathing her dagger at once, Cordelia listened to the sound of quick sniffing, and emerged slowly from the bedroom. Standing in the home's doorway was a thin dog with scraggly white fur. Its eyes were clouded with cataracts. Cordelia's brows furrowed. Had Balefire's law enforcement stooped so low as to send an old, tired hound on her trail? Was it a trick? A trap? When the dog squatted and left a puddle of urine on the floor, she determined the thing was alone. Returning the dagger to her scabbard, she stomped her foot down. "Get," she said. The dog took a careful step toward her. "Go away," said Cordelia. "Out." It directed its head up toward her. It did not quite look at her, but it was trying to find her in the dark. Frowning more deeply, Cordelia leaned down and tried to give the creature a gentle shove back toward the door, but the dog interpreted this as a game and gently licked her arm. "No," said Cordelia. The dog did not relent, and so Cordelia was forced to. Stepping over it, she searched in earnest for anything she might have missed, but there was nothing. The house was stripped bare. She hadn't kept a journal. She hadn't left a note. She had told no one where she was going. It was all to her own detriment. A screen door with claw marks in it lead out to a small backyard. Exiting that way, she looked about for a secret hollow in a tree, or for a strangely marked rock, or anything—anything—that might indicate a clue. The dog followed her, and stood close to her legs. She shooed it away with her hand, but it didn't move an inch. Cordelia looked down at the sad creature, and then slowly knelt down on the ground to stroke its ragged ears. The dog sat on its haunches, and licked blindly at her fingers. “I can’t care for you,” said Cordelia. “I can’t care for anyone. I can barely care for myself.” The dog pushed its head into her palms. It didn’t understand. It didn’t see her her crimes against Imythess, or the sins against her family, or how little she knew about herself. How little she knew about love. She didn’t know what a dog could possibly see in her that was worthy of affection. “Stupid thing,” she said. She walked away, around the house, back to the street. The dog trodded after her, keeping close to her ankles so it wouldn’t lose her. She didn’t know how to get rid of it, or why it had suddenly grown so attached to her. It couldn’t have a good life with her. Was there a pound where she could bring it? Some kind of animal shelter? She couldn’t bring this creature all the way back to the Mare. Well, she could—any objection from Hearne she could overrule—but she couldn’t imagine the dog would survive the long way home. “Cookie!” a little girl yelled. The dog stopped walking and looked around wildly. Cordelia turned her head over her shoulder to see a young girl, her feet pounding against the pavement, running toward them. “Cookie! There you are!” She dove toward the dog and gathered her in her arms. The dog, Cookie, began to lick the little girl’s face and grumbled with affection. Cordelia stood back, watching the reunion. The little girl couldn’t have been older than ten. “Oh. Uh. Is this your dog?” Cordelia’s question went unheard; the girl was too happy to have found her pup. “I was so worried! You’ve been gone all day!” The little girl rubbed her hands all over Cookie’s face, gave the dog tummy and back scratches, then looked up at Cordelia. “You found my dog! Where was she?” “Oh, uh, she just kinda found me,” said Cordelia. “You should put a collar on her. I didn’t know anyone owned her.” “She doesn’t usually leave the yard, but my dad left the gate open,” said the girl. “She must have gotten out.” “Well, uh. You get a collar and a leash for her. I almost brought her to the pound.” said Cordelia. “I will! Thank you for finding her.” The little girl stood. “Come on Cookie. Let’s go home.” The dog eagerly followed the little girl down the street and around a corner. The girl turned to wave back to Cordelia, and the vampire woman half-heartedly returned the gesture with a slight bend to her fingers. Her shoulders slumped with a sigh. Looking away, she shoved her hands into her pockets and started up the lane, then descended deep into a shadow and popped out of one a hundred feet away, and did this again and again, making the long trek out of Balefire as quickly as she could. |
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8:39 AM Jul 11

