Today’s writing prompt is: BLOOM. This short story will include characters from my Zion trilogy, set some time after the trilogy has concluded of course 🙂 I have done a previous short skit with these characters after the trilogy, which you can read here:
This will be set shortly after the ending of trilogy, where Anastasia and Andrew are starting to date, if you wanna read the ending, follow this link:
Hope you enjoy 🙂
It was summer. Or spring. Anastasia couldn’t quite remember, honestly, cause she was still adjusting to her new life. Her new normal. Well, if it was normal, she wasn’t totally sure. It was at least the closest to what was normal. Come to think of it, nobody over the entire earth had ever experienced actual normal since 2030 something when the Omega Order was unleashed, her father assassinated, her mother and brother and several people from their kingdom on the run from said Omega Order and herself spared and taken in by the Order and raised from a few months old to be one of their top assassins, specifically for the purpose of wiping out her biological family years later when she was of age.
Damn, she thought, fiddling with the collar of her dress. She was still adjusting to realizing how toxic and abusive her life had been and how none of it was real. The relationships she had formed, her morals and beliefs, the man she had viewed as her adoptive father only to be gutted by reality later…
Anastasia drew in a shaky breath and tried frantically to blink away the tears that threatened to spill out.
Petrus’ voice leaked in. Memories of him snuggling with her. Feeding her when she was sick. The joy on his face when she passed her exams growing up, and the relieved smile on his face whenever she came back from a mission and how happy he was to have her return.
But…he wasn’t really happy, was he? Not to see her, not like a father, someone who is meant to guide their child and protect them at all costs would. No…it was happiness that she had helped complete their filthy tasks, ones that would help them keep their organization stable. It was relief that their goals and endgame had seemed to still be good to stay…only because she was being useful to their cause. She had just been a pawn, someone to use in a sadistic game of cat and mouse with her actual family, whom they thought would be absolutely hilarious if she was the one to personally destroy her family. A weaponized child. Her mind and body completely under their command.
Her hands started shaking, despite the warm breeze, as her arms wrapped around herself. Her eyes darted everywhere as memories and voices flickered in front of her. Faces appeared, the one that appeared the most was Petrus, his expressions different each time. Seeming fatherly love. The cold, emotionless look he had when experimenting on her over the years. The sadistic glint when he held her captive in those icy mountains.
“Ivanka,” Petrus whispered as he reached for her. “You know I was only trying to look out for you…”
“Get away from me!” She whispered, tears ripping her voice apart as she flinched and suddenly…he wasn’t there.
Memories of back in those mountains flooded back. It hadn’t been him. It had been a hologramme…when she had reached for it, it had dissipated…
Was that what it was now? a hologramme?
Was he back?
She blindly turned and ran, feet pounded through the vegetation. Her vision blurred as tears threatened to spill again, terror piercing through her chest as she tried desperately to escape before he attacked her. Or harmed anyone else.
She skidded to a stop, only to trip and faceplant on her face, drawing an agonised cry from her lips.
He wasn’t there.
He couldn’t be.
He had died.
She had just been imagining things.
It was like she took a step forward and three steps back.
A mix of a whimper and sob escaped her as she started to curl up. Why was things hitting her now? Sure, it had affected her when she first started finding the truth, but not like this. Not so randomly, whenever she was starting to enjoy life, enjoy the little things, feel good about herself…it all had to then slam her into a wall.
And now she was starting to see Andrew…now he was going to be involved, have to put up with all of this.
Why couldn’t peace come at the snap of a finger? Why couldn’t she just automatically adjust? Just…blossom into a peaceful, healthy existence? Why was the process going to be so painful?
Wanted to take it further, but I feel like this is good enough now for this short story, will definitely do more short stories with them and this part of Anastasia’s character growth as well 🙂
Have a good day/night!
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