Author: Panic at the Beatles Disco PM
The Fowl family has been left scared and divided after their son's disappearance. His father has become a cold, cruel man once again, and to compensate for his son he adopts a 12 year old girl and brutaly forces Artemis' personna on her. Read please!Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Hurt/Comfort - Artemis F. - Chapters: 6 - Words: 9,727 - Reviews: 19 - Favs: 9 - Follows: 14 - Updated: 02-08-13 - Published: 04-28-12 - id: 8068350
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I usually find, when I read fanfiction, that having a soundtrack to what I'm reading usually enhances the enjoyment of the chapter, and the story in general. I'm not going to point out any specific songs I'd want you to listen to while reading this chapter, I'd rather leave that up to you, but for the sake of your enjoyment, I would highly recommend that you consider the over all tone of the story so far, open up a tab on youtube, choose a song and listen to that while you read, if you haven't done so already. If you want, please feel free to tell me what you're listening to. Who knows? Maybe I'll like it too.
A draft of warm air wormed it's way in and spread throughout the dorms, enveloping the room in it's chill.
A girl shivered beneath the covers. She drew the comforter in closer around her small frame. The bed was so cold.
There was a warmth, though.
But it was fleeting.
She opened her eyes.
Her first sight was darkness, the dim shapes of her dorm mates silhouetted in shadow were the only distinguishable factors in the room.
Something was wrong.
She could feel it.
She straightened, erecting her spine, her short blond tangles sweeping away from the mattress as she did so, letting the comforter and sheets pool around her middle.
Timidly, she stretched her hand out, feeling the sheets glide beneath her palm.
She felt her throat clench when her fingers crossed the edge.
She was alone.
Her mind was sent reeling at the thought. How could it be?
Her breath quickened as her mind back paddled desperately.
No, she insisted. No, she was not alone. She refused to accept it. Instead she turned to the only conclusion she'd allow herself.
She was not alone.
(because the last time she'd woken up alone-)
It was just a mistake.
Someone else must be here with her. Someone had to be. And she would hold her, and protect her, and never ever leave her.
She'd just missed her, that was all. She must've still been sleeping.
(Momma where are you?)
She'd just have to wake her.
She curled her hands into small fists, and the six year old pounded at the mattress. She shook the bed to it's foundation, crumpling the sheets, the bed rattling frantically- the springs squealing, the headboard rocking, savagely pounding at the walls-
Bump, bump, bump.
(Went the slut and the player.)
Her mouth, the corners once moist from sleep went dry.
"is someone hurting that girl?" She whispered.
"IF YOU DON'T SHUT UP I'LL BE THE ONE HURTING YOU!" a gruff voice barked.
And then, as suddenly as lightning a fist burst forward from the darkness and rammed at her skull. It then retreated just as quickly into the darkness, along with it's bearer, back to her own bunk.
She was thrown back into the mattress, her hands flying to her forehead as she fought the throbbing pain in her brow. Whimpering, she rolled on her front and buried her face in the sheets.
When she found it.
It was warm.
But it's warmth was fleeting.
"Momma?" she whispered.
She buried her face in the pillow the Diana had rested in the night before.
Of course, it wasn't her momma.
But it was warm.
So it was good enough.
Diana marched along a dim corridor to Camstrie's office, the only light filtering through
Time clouded bulbs swinging by suspension cables over their heads, The Madeline following in step. The shadows swayed with the lamps, growing and fading, in cadenced time.
Diana fixed her eyes on the tiled floor beneath her, gritting her teeth against the stabbing pain in her thighs. She watched as her feet followed one another forward, set to a silent pace she'd set for herself;
One, two, one, two,
(Don't limp, don't limp.)
Her thighs were burning, her limbs pleaded rest.
They demanded rest.
She could feel the Madeline's eyes on her back as she marched on, staring daggers from behind, scrutinizing her every move. She felt the hag taking her in and peeling back every protective layer, looking to leave her stripped and bare and beaten.
While enjoying the effort.
So she would thicken the layers.
She grit her teeth and advanced the hallway, letting her thoughts fall to silence with only the clack of her footsteps to guide her.
One, two, one, two, one-
The tip of a shoe toe flicked under her raised heel, and she could barely suppress a shriek as she was send flying forward, pin wheeling precariously on her right leg for balance, until she finally stamped her foot down in a lunge in front of her.
The hag had tripped her.
"GET BACK IN MY SIGHTS ARCHER!" the Madeline barked. Diana did nothing to obscure a wince as she once again neared proximity to that dreaded cane.
She made her way back to the Sister, rebuilding her composure in each step-
One, two, one, two-
And turned back to face her previous direction, taking her place in front of the blind Madeline.
A wrinkled hand fell on her shoulder.
And for the second time that day, Diana felt the tickle of hair and breath at her ear.
"Father Camstrie has requested your presence in his office, Archer." Madeline whispered, taloned hands closing more forcefully around her shoulder. "He has asked of me personally to escort you." her shoulder was almost completely encircled.
"But, make no mistake- I will delay that meeting if needed," Her tone grew darker with implied meaning. "to administer disciplinary action." She ended with a hiss.
The Madeline's hand had fully enclosed around her shoulder now, squeezing further. Tears prickled in Diana's eyes and she feared the bone might be wrenched from the socket-
When her hand fell away all together.
"Keep moving, Archer." the Sister hissed.
Diana obliged, setting her pace and keeping sure that she did not stray from the Madeline's sight.
Then, five minutes later-
"FOR GOD'S SAKE SPEED UP ARCHER! We'll never arrive at the Father's office if you keep Dawdling!"
Diana grimaced. She could already feel the cane at her back.
By the time the Madeline had finally steered her to Camstrie's office, every inch of her throbbed in agony.
The withered nun stood behind her silently. Both of them stared at the woodwork before them, waiting, almost expectedly.
She kept her back defiantly to the hag and stood with level posture, although she had abandoned the indifferent façade on her features in exchange for a biting grimace. She had decided, in light of the Madeline's blindness, to indulge herself in the shadows of the corridor. She knew the office that lay behind the wooded ingress would be light, and so revealing. She'd need to cover herself once she stepped inside, she new that.
She'd need to cover herself closely.
The Madeline brushed past her, hobbling over her cane as it stamped the ground. Her ache then flared ten fold.
The hag settled in the door frame, her back to Diana. There was a subtle sound of knuckles rapping against the wood which rang in the stony silence with a sound resonance.
"Oh do come in!" a jovial voice called, still sharp in clarity even after muffling by the walls.
At the summon came a faint click and rattle, as the Madeline twisted the knob and cleared the doorway. The hag stepped to the side. Against the brightness she was all but a dim silhouette, her face and clothes stolen by shadows. But Diana could still feel her eyes on her, glairing, scrutinizing, and above all expecting.
Diana had never once let her posture slip until now, but still she found herself straightening, ignoring the flaring drag in her back and managing to actually saunter past the Madeline while making it look effortless.
She had the last pleasure of hearing the hag growl in seething rage, and the final grace to treat her to a mocking smirk.
And she had crossed the thresh hold.
I'm horrible to my readers. I know it.
Shit happened and I couldn't update.