There will be some mentions of the blogger Racquel’s past (or more her education) in this chapter that will be necessary for the story. I want to stress that as far as I’m aware IT’S COMPLETELY FICTITIOUS!!! I made it up because it’s necessary for the storyline. Racquel, I would’ve asked you, but you’ve been off WP for a while with work or whatever, so I wasn’t able to ask. So, I hope you are not offended.
That’s what he needed the Polychora for! Racquel then remembered a slip of paper in Winter’s and Stone’s hotel room. The words on the piece of paper flashed through her mind.
It was something that she had heard in high-school. Anpao was a two-faced spirit that represented the dawn in Sioux mythology.
Why did they have the note in their room?
And Delling’s Door…what was that? She remembered who Dellingr was meant to be: in Norse mythology, Dellingr was a god, the father of Dagr who was the personified day.
She frowned. There was something in common with the two things. That’s it! Anpao was the dawn. Dellingr was the father of day. And Dellingr meant “the dayspring” or “shining one” – ‘shining’ possibly referring to the sunlight.
And Dellingr’s Doors has been theorised to be a metaphor for sunrise.
What’s the connection? How does it relate to Ver’thad building a portal? And why did Winter and Stone have it lying around in their hotel room? Unless they were in a rush and forgot to put it securely away.
Ver’thad exited the elevator and strode into the room where the prisoners were. He stood there silently for a moment, unnoticed, as he surveyed his catch. Jones’ fake memories that he had planted to make the Enzo identity more authentic worked – it led them on a false trail. Okay, some of it was technically true, but it was all to lead them into his clutches.
He could have just killed them all when they went after him and the fake data chips, he knew. And part of him would have preferred that. But, it was more fun this way. If he had killed them then and there, he wouldn’t get to see the light slowly drain from their eyes or the horror and fear on their faces as they were slowly shredded to pieces (what a beautiful metaphor, he thought); slowly wore down their minds.
The Joker put it best in The Dark Knight, Ver’thad thought:
You can’t savor all the little emotions
He looked over at Rue and tried not to clench his fists. He reminded himself that she would pay by killing her friends for him. Then, as a final touch, he would snap her out of his mental control and let her see what she had done. From previous experience, he knew it would drive the controlled person to the point of insanity – at which point he would kill them…after two or three days to fully let the effects of actions sink in and take root.
He touched his earpiece. “Is the portal open?”
“Yes,” Winter confirmed.
“Yes,” Stone confirmed.
Ver’thad switched frequencies and spoke to another henchman of his – Cranial. “Send a message to the Enktir Liwlians that their payment for their services will be arriving shortly,” Ver’thad ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Cranial acknowledged.
Ver’thad pressed a button embedded into his cuff and a large black metal hover board appeared under his feet. He flew over to Jones and Mooney. He picked up the laser gun he had on his waist and fired it at their ropes, cutting through it.
They dropped onto the hover board, causing it to buck and sway a little bit. In response to a previous instruction given several hours ago, Winter then materialised, climbed on top of the railing and leapt through the air and onto the hover board. She aimed a gun at Jones and Mooney – who were just recovering from their fall – and fired.
A grey mass – much like bubble-gum – shot out and submerged them up to their necks. It then instantly hardened, locking them in place.
Without a word, they descended through the portal.
“Now, what do we do?” Britchy wondered out loud.
Rue, though, stayed silent. As soon as she saw Ver’thad, she wanted to scream at him.
But then it had all become clear.
She had been completely wrong.
The only reason she agreed that they would accompany Racquel on her trip was in the hopes of finding Ver’thad and, well, making him pay for what she thought he had done to Jones.
She realised that throughout the trip, she had never cared about anything else but getting her revenge.
And her judgement and thinking had all been tainted by that one fact.
And look where it got us.
She quickly apologised to the others. “Well, what are you going to do about it?” Bond replied.
Rue looked at him quizzically. “You say that it’s your fault,” Bond elaborated. “So, how are you gonna’ fix it?”
Rue fell silent as she considered his question, eyes now on the descending hover board. Particularly on Jones.
“Save the day,” she finally answered, turning to him with a grin. He smiled.
“How are we gonna’ do that?” Racquel asked.
Bond looked at her with a ‘duh’ expression. “Just charge straight in.”
Racquel sighed. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” Bond stated with a serious expression.
Racquel could have face-palmed. “Rue,” she said, turning to said woman, “you know we need a plan of attack.”
“In the words of the great Tony Stark -“
“NO! Don’t even finish that sentence,” Racquel interrupted. She lowered her voice. “This is a life-and-death situation.”
“And?” Britchy ever-so-helpfully butted in.
Racquel sighed, deciding not to bother anymore. “Great! Our survival depends on a lunatic plan that is not actually a plan,” she muttered to herself, loud enough for the others to hear of course.
“Cool! I’m in,” Britchy commented.
“That’s a great idea, Racquel!” Rue said with a grin. Racquel narrowed her eyes at Rue, who’s eyes were in turn dancing with amusement, and scowled.
Rue looked down at her wrists. “How are we gonna’ get out of these?” she muttered.
Racquel pounced on that. “Why you need a plan,” she said, making sure to emphasis the word ‘plan’.
“Why? I’m sure Britchy or Bond have something up their sleeves,” Rue shrugged non-chalantely. Racquel really wanted to face-palm. Rue then turned to her and there was something in her eyes that made Racquel realize that they had been teasing her all along.
“Of course we got a plan,” Rue said with an ever-so-smug smirk.
“And maybe I can help,” a voice said. Jumping in surprise, all eyes turned to see who the speaker was.
It was Stone.
Sorry – I know it’s not my best work, but I did my best and I hope you enjoyed it! There should only be three or more chapters left of this story. SHOULD be. Who knows, maybe it’ll turn out longer than I expected (they tend to do so), but it MIGHT be only three or so chapters left.
Have a great day/night!
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2 responses to “Winter Kill – Chapter Eighteen”
[…] to the raging arguments that had been going on for a few minutes now ever since Stone had declared he was on their side. “May I interject here?” he asked. Everyone fell silent and looked at him. […]
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