strictlysupreme Chapter 6: Determination
Chapter 6: Determination
The rain poured down heavy and hard like a vengeful god, turning the alley into a drowned gutter.THUD!! THUD!!
The sound of boots walking on wet cobblestone was prominent, and as this person makes their way to the end of this alley, they sense of sme was instantly hit by the garbage, piss, and clogged gutter filled with to the brim with nameless filth that stank.
The sky loomed as an eternal void, crushing down upon the World of Man, thick clouds so potent it blocked out everything, leaving the world below with no sun, stars, or moon of the night sky.
Just this ceaseless torrent from the clouded abyss, soaking everything in bone-deep cold.
Beatrice shivered under her umbrella, the relentless tap-tap-tap on the fabric splashing her from different sides.
Her breath came in ragged puffs, misting the frigid air. Across from her, huddled beneath her own umbrella, was another woman, she looked out place her given what she wore, and also because she was standing at the dead end of the alley, beside an open door.
"Auntie Maine." Beatrice said to the woman before her.
She looked almost human at a glance, but the illusion shattered the longer you stared. Her limbs jerked with that unnatural grace, joints too fluid to be humanly possible, she was like a puppet strung by invisible threads.
In a way she was.
Her skin gleamed under the alley night light, that was blinking on and off, her skin was pale and waxy, unnaturally flawless. And she wore a simple black dress that cinched her waist like a straitjacket, it’s gothic edges frayed with lace that fluttered weakly in the cold wind.
There was a black ribbon around her throat? Tied in a perfect bow at the back of her neck. Her face... fuck, it was hauntingly beautiful, in a way that clawed at your soul. Lips stained crimson like old blood, and a pair of nocturnal blue eyes that glowed creepily in the dark.
However what make her stand out was her limbs, arms visible, also her legs hidden by her dress. All four of them where doll limbs or prosthetics, that control as if they where apart of her from birth.
She looked up at the woman, who was taller than her, about two or three heads. "So you came." She said to Beatrice, who just nodded. Causing her to sigh internally and soon thereafter began to speak. "Not gonna lie, I would have rather you didn’t do this... But I guess you have already made your choice little Bea."
"I am afraid so auntie Maine." Beatrice replied, as her violet eyes began to look down on Main with a smudge of regret in them. Main sighed, as she pulled something from her shadow, her hands trembling as she present it to Beatrice. The thing in question was cradled and wrapped in frayed cloth, blood staining it from within. And as she extended it slowly, her fingers where clearly hesitant, as if the act pained her.
"Like you asked for." Her voice cracked slightly, low and regretful. "I vowed I would never make one of these again, but in case like this, it’s lesser of two evils, so here child take it before I changed my mind. This is the Reliquary of the Stillborn. God, Bea, I never wanted to hand this over to you."
Beatrice’s fingers spasmed at her side, a shiver racing through her that wasn’t just the cold. Maine drew back the cloth with gentleness that bordered on grief.
heless she open back her eyes, her self disgust, now replace with determination and hope, as she place the cloth back around it.
"Take a good look at it Beatrice... This is the price we impure must pay and take if we want to use the power of the spirits." Maine said, trying to educate her niece on the harshness of the world even further, and sacrifice needed to reach there. Beatrice naturally nodded her head as she responded with. "I have no right to be feeling guilt, I took the life of many just so I can have this chance, I won’t take this sin for granted." Beatrice said with a stone cold resolved.
And Main sighed as she responded back. "I still don’t agree with this."
"It doesn’t matter what you think, I have to make a contract tonight, if I fail, I might as well just kill myself before they come and kill me." Her voice was quiet, and steady despite the storm. "There is no other way, I either take a massive step forward at chance of life and ambition, or jump backward and embrace the hell that awaits me."
Hearing this Maine lips pressed together in something between a smile and a sigh.
"Your mother wouldn’t want this." She shifted the reliquary now in her nieces hand, as though tempted to take it back, alas she didn’t "But I am not your mother."
Her gaze softened. For all her porcelain coldness, for all the strange doll-like stiffness of her movements, there was something warm in that look, painfully human.
"As your aunt." She said finally. "I will support you. even if your actions slowly tears you apart."
Hearing this Beatrice bowed her head, extremely greatful for her aunt.
She the exhaled, lips trembling, then pulled her umbrella closed. Droplets spattered down her shoulder as she straightened. "Thank you, Auntie Maine."
She turned toward the door tucked into the alley’s end, looking at it small, iron-framed, its wood dark with rot. With the reliquary clutched to her chest, she pushed it open and stepped inside.
The door then shut behind her.
Maine remained in the alley.
For a moment she simply stood, umbrella steady, rain dripping in rivulets around her boots. Then she exhaled through her teeth, lowered the umbrella, and dug into her pocket.
A slim cigar was now in her hands as she set it between her lips, patted her coat she wore around her black dress, until she found the lighter, then sparked flame into the damp air.
The smoke curled, sharp and acrid, a counterpoint to the rain’s metallic tang.
Her shoulders sagged as she drew in a breath and let the smoke slip from her painted mouth. Stress tugged at her features, something deep and tired.
Beatrice was her only family left. The thought weighed heavier than the rain. If she could have chosen, she never would have let the girl touch the reliquary. "Just don’t die kid."