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pissed |
spyware. the ultimate sucker. i shall not go into the gory details.
here's my lit project. enjoy, everyone. tis a short story continuation that my group chose to do, and this is my version, which will proudly be meeting ms wong soon.
one word of advice.
read carefully. don't miss anything. multiple meanings in there to be seen. and no, nothing incriminating.
Intentions
It is an old town, lost town, crook town. Once, very long ago, it was the choice residential district of the city, and there are still standing a few of the jigsaw Gothic mansions with wide porches and walls covered in round-end shingle and full-corner bay windows with spindle turrets. They are all rooming homes now, their parquetry floors are scratched and worn through the once glossy finish and the wide sweeping of dirt. In the tall rooms haggard landladies bicker with shifty tenants. On the wide cool front porches, reaching their cracked shoes into the sun, and staring at nothing, sit the old men with faces like lost battles.
~~~
In the largest of these mansions lived the oldest of these men. He went by the name of Abel. In Latin, Abel meant life, breath, or so the bickering landladies whispered. Ironically, Abel, or old apes as they whispered behind his back, was nothing like life. He was small, dark, bent, musty smelling, almost like death itself. Just as the others, he sat and stared, silent, his eyes shaded by a pair of dark glasses that he rarely took off. It suited the townspeople just as well. For when he took off his glasses, his strange, violet pupils glistened, shone. They feared his eyes. It burnt, bore, and ripped through the library of one’s mind as naturally as breathing. They had no privacy, space, or even dignity when he chose to see their darkest secrets. No one ever went near him; much less to say provoked him.
Old Abel lived with his grandson, Han. It is believed that old Abel killed his wife, his son and his daughter-in-law when Han was born, on a stormy thanksgiving night. For ever since the first day the townspeople had seen Han in a cradle beside old Abel, they had never once appeared. Just as old Abel, Han had a pair of violet eyes, but it was a kinder pair of eyes. At ten, he was the best-looking boy in town, with his chiseled features, soft brown hair and unique eyes. He never talked to anyone though, and trudged alone everyday, mostly entertaining himself in his garden if he did come out from the mansion. Old Abel never did believe in entrusting his kin to schools, hence Han was the only child in town (not that there were many) who was home schooled. They led a quiet life, with no disturbances, no one knowing what they did everyday.
~~~
Thanksgiving night. It was raining, for the first time in ten years, on this day.
A young woman and a small girl strode with purpose to old Abel’s mansion. They were not people of the town, but yet knew their way just as if they had lived there all their life. The young woman reached out to pull her black hood back, revealing big wavy golden curls that tumbled out, when she saw old Abel. Understanding flickered in old Abel’s eyes the split second he let out the most horrific screech ever. He began laughing, a long cackle that was strangely sad. The young woman said nothing, but pushed the little girl towards old Abel. He lifted his trembling hand, seeming to pull off the little girl’s hood, to take a better look at her. However, his hand shrank back even before he touched her. The woman’s eyes glowed with triumph. She turn to leave, leaving old Abel with the words, “Her name is also Ronica, Ron as you know it. Beware.”
~~~
Ron hated it here. She hated old Abel, she hated her mother, but she hated the house the most. It was only five minutes, and already she hated it. She could hear voices, sounds, in her head, telling her things she did not understand or want to know. She saw happenings that disgusted her, through a soft cloud. She was unsure why her mother insisted she had to stay, although she knew her intentions were not good. Why else would her mother shove a pack of cyanide into her coat pocket without telling her the reason for it? She was sick, tired and frustrated by the constant noises in her head. She headed to the second level of Dome, as old Abel called his mansion to her new room.
What is she doing here? Old ape will kill if he finds out there’s a stranger in Dome.
She heard it, distinctly, even though she could see no one. “Come out. No, stay where you are. I don’t want to see you. Stay out of my way. Dome is mine now.” She heard herself saying before she could stop herself. Down the hallway, someone moved. She saw a pair of violet eyes appraising her.
Interesting. So you are Ron. You hear me, don’t you?
“Shut up. You don’t know me.” She scowled, irritated at his knowledge.
Here’s a gift. Keep it. If you are smart enough, go now. No good comes out of Dome.
A boomerang hit her in the shin before it returned to its owner.
I’m Han. Hi.
She was left alone, fury taking over her being, as he disappeared into a room.
~~~
Staring down at the battlefield in his room, Han was worried. Ron was finally here. Bit by bit, she would be taken over by Dome, just as Abel had been. He was prepared for this day, but had not expected Ron to be a frail looking little girl with golden curls that stood out in the gloom of Dome. It would be hard, he thought, to go according to my plans now. She is far stronger than I thought she would be, even though she looks weak. He knew, if he failed, the penalty would be death. He fingered the boomerang in his hands that had hit Ron earlier. It was time to act. He moved the soldier on his battlefield up a step.
~~~
Ron sat in the study, with her latest favourite book in hand. The Scourge of the Marsh Monster. It soothed her to read it. She used to love the trashy romance novels that her mother kept hidden in the kitchen drawers, thinking she would never find it. Now, she could not remember the reasons why she even picked up those novels in the first place. They were so predictable, without the suspense and thrill that Marsh Monster gave her. She looked up from her book as a cold breeze blew in the room. Her sight locked on the fireplace. It looked so warm and inviting. Intoxicated, she walked towards the fireplace, her hands stretched out as if to touch the cheerful orange flames. Closer, closer, closer she inched towards the burning flames. Just as she was about to touch the fire, something in her snapped. She jumped back, shocked at herself. She had just been ready to stick her hands and head into the fireplace. She shook her head violently. Was she possessed?
Han walked in while she was mulling over her abnormal actions. Ron’s eyes immediately turned from surprise to cold animosity. He never talked to her, just as he never talked to Abel. Despite that, she heard voices that she replied to as if he were speaking. She did not understand why the voices appeared, neither was she sure if the voice was his. She felt uncomfortable and disliked it whenever the voices came, and thus she disliked Han. For when he appeared, the voices rose to a decibel level that gave her headaches. Each time he appeared, she would be on the verge of actions that puzzled her.
Triumph. Triumph. Triumph. But...
Ron was furious. She was incensed at Han’s triumphant eyes, his smile. “You don’t know your parents, do you? You don’t even have friends, you freak!” Ron burst out, surprising even herself with the venom with which she spat out her words. She was rewarded with the violet eyes clouding over with hurt, which made her feel elated for a moment, before feeling guilty the next instant. “I didn’t mean it. You caught me at the wrong time. Just go.” She forced herself to give her apology.
Suit yourself.
Ron was disturbed.
~~~
Han cursed himself as he moved the piece that was the soldier. He should never have given her a chance. He should never have backed out at the last moment, stopped by the deceivingly innocent looking golden curls. It would be hard to find an opportunity as good as that again. He pushed another soldier on his battlefield up another step. He got up form his seat and entered Ron’s room.
~~~
Ron saw the boomerang as soon as she entered the room. It was laid on the middle of her table. Han had been to her room, and left it there, she knew. Fear gnawed at her guts as she picked up the boomerang. Evil returns to its roots. Always. She remembered her mother’s intense words. She sped out to the garden.
There, Han was playing with his rabbits, as she knew he would. She had seen him spending most of his time in the garden, but she never went near him.
Go right. Move down. Stop. Good girl.
Ron’s eyes widened as it became clear in an instant. The voice was Han’s. He was the ultimate assassin that mankind could have. The rabbits followed his instructions, moving uniformly. Han turned around to meet Ron’s terrified eyes, as the boomerang fell from her hands. It was time, he knew, but he let her run off into Dome. He walked over to the boomerang and picked it up. Let her have time for her last good-byes.
~~~
Her hands were shaking as she emptied the white contents into his drinking bottle. It was an evil thing to do, but she felt she had to. She had to act before he did. She ran back to her room and slammed the door shut. Forcing herself to calm down, she sat down at her window seat and opened the long windows. There were no grilles on the windows, which were ugly holes in the walls that could be dangerous if one was not careful. People could easily fall through them. Ron’s mind was not on this problem. A cool breeze blew in the room and she gradually quieted down. Maybe I am overly paranoid. Maybe I was just imagining things. Maybe I should not have acted so rashly with the cyanide. Thoughts churned in her head as she looked out of the window.
The boomerang came fast and suddenly. It hit her on the shoulder hard before it returned back. Ron’s feet no longer listened to her. They moved forward, causing her to lose her balance. She fell outwards with a sick splat. Behind the door, a pair of violet eyes gleamed.
~~~
He had not intended to end it all so early. He was safe now, the threat of the curse that his grandfather had always reminded him of was gone. Strangers would never destroy him. He would rid them first. He felt sorry for Ron, but it had to be done. He shoved his soldier into the enemy’s camp as he took a swig of water. Victory was sweet.
~~~
Abel sighed. He was left with nothing. He heard her words clearly. My children will destroy yours. She had been half-right. She had come back as her grandchild not only to destroy his. She had also taken his morals away. She had succeeded in making him see his past sins. Now, all that was left for him, was loneliness.
posted by sarangaia || 5:44 AM Monday, February 21, 2005
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5 Comments:
oops. the italics didn't come out. and this is kinda long. sorry peeps..
haha...more, more!!
not long enouigh! =PpP go publish it or something! =D oh and ooooooh violet eyes!!
oh im yeda.
haha.. thanx da.. i take tt as a compliment. anyway u get the underlying meaning?
suddenly, weiling realised that han abel and kaijie were all in league with the EVIL EK conspiracy..
enhua here horh, lol, me extra-ing around and i found ur site
my blog is darnthislittleblog.blogspot.com
nice stuff.
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