Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 9, 2009 12:05:52 GMT -8
Comatose.
“Bastille!!! Bastille what’s wrong?! Answer me!”
“shut it Lola…your screaming, im…fine..”
The fuzzy vision of Lolas bright blue eyes and bright brown hair was fading darker, and Bastille wasn’t sure why her words where drowning out as if Bastille was slowly sinking below water. Bastille couldn’t even remember what had just happened…but she saw blood…lots of it, all pooling around her hair and neck…wondering silently if it was indeed her own. The blood was suddenly coming down at her and she was inside the room, that room again. Just a flash and she was looking up at Lolas blurry face for a moment, before suddenly the room took her.
The Dark room, cement on all four walls, the floor covered in water. It was turning to ice and Bastille just watched it. What was going on? Touching the pristine water, it rippled and with it memories, loud and thunderous rang into the room…
“Aiden” She hissed.
“Little Sister…so good to see you, and now my Princess Cunningham…oh so regal you have grown little sister, how fast too…” He said smirking that same devilish smirk he always had. His creepy silver blonde hair was only add to the disgust Bastille felt.
“Oh feeling a little backstabbed Brother? Good, you see how it feels…that someone who can betray the Cunningham blood can come back and regain its title in little less then two hours…little malice have we?” She spat venomously.
“On the contrary, my dear sister…I am amazed and yes, admittedly a little bewildered. But not for long…”
He pulled out a gun and held it up.
“Im sorry dear sister…but you have become a hindrance to our plans…there for I will do what father failed to do, good bye Violette…”
He shot and Bastille dodged to the side but felt the bullet singe her arm. She glared at her brother.
“You are going to have to try harder…jack ass!” She said pulling out her own gun and firing. But he was quicker.
“Wha- “ she said shocked. He was behind her wrapping a gently but sturdy arm around her waist and pulling her chin up. Bastille went to turn her gun over her shoulder but her brother pulled the trigger on her gun before it could even reach the exact mark. Luckily Bastille had whipped her head away.
“You forget, I am the same as you…able to read others movements by their muscles…able to see things unseen…through the lions eyes” He laughed.
“The only difference is I deserve them you rat-bastard” She cursed but he was indeed stronger then her. Bastille hadn’t kept up on her training. Suddenly she felt arms encircle her again this time a females.
“VERA?!” She turned and began to try and wrangle out but Aiden frowned and held up a gun.
“Poor poor Princess…” Vera cooed in her ears. Bastille went still and held out her arms willingly. Her face became solemn and with ease she concentrated. Aiden shot and Bastille was just able to whip her face just far enough that the bullet pierced scathed her temple. It was not a killing blow but she felt the force of it and fell to the floor, Vera letting her slip there with ease. Vera turned to her younger brother, Aiden and smiled. “Young Brother…shall we go inform mother that Bastille had left us?” She said softly.
“No, just inform her that she is growing terribly ill….and there might be no chance of recovery.” He said giving her one last smirk. That was no where in hell a fair fight. Bastille thought she had only laid there five minutes before pushing herself up, but it had in reality been half an hour. She dragged herself towards the gun range desk, trying to find a gun with real bullets…but her hands fumbled and Lola came in next to her with her usual happy greeting. It was then that Lola noticed the blood and Bastille slipped slamming her own head onto a desk and falling down.
Wearing a white shirt that day had been a mistake, the blood had soaked it red within seconds and her long blonde hair had been stained as well. Bastille felt the blood sting her shoulders and for the last time she saw Lola’s frantic face calling out words Bastille couldn’t hear.
The water froze over and Bastille was stuck hugging her knees inside the prison. Her other self was the room around her, and it would not release her…not for a while. They would sleep…sleep…
“London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down….London bridge is falling down….My fair lady….”
Singing to herself, the voice echoed in the walls around her like a creepy forgotten lullaby.
Bastille could faintly hear the paramedics, as if in the far distance…she could not feel however, as they lifted her onto the stretcher, rushed her to the hospital, or rushed her into the ER…she could not feel, see, or hear as they finally gave up and set her in a hospital bed. All the while, her eyes remained half open, clouded over in a dead way…and her lips moved, softly singing…
London Bridge is falling down….falling down…….fall…ing…down….London bridge is falling……down….my….fair….lady.
“Bastille!!! Bastille what’s wrong?! Answer me!”
“shut it Lola…your screaming, im…fine..”
The fuzzy vision of Lolas bright blue eyes and bright brown hair was fading darker, and Bastille wasn’t sure why her words where drowning out as if Bastille was slowly sinking below water. Bastille couldn’t even remember what had just happened…but she saw blood…lots of it, all pooling around her hair and neck…wondering silently if it was indeed her own. The blood was suddenly coming down at her and she was inside the room, that room again. Just a flash and she was looking up at Lolas blurry face for a moment, before suddenly the room took her.
The Dark room, cement on all four walls, the floor covered in water. It was turning to ice and Bastille just watched it. What was going on? Touching the pristine water, it rippled and with it memories, loud and thunderous rang into the room…
“Aiden” She hissed.
“Little Sister…so good to see you, and now my Princess Cunningham…oh so regal you have grown little sister, how fast too…” He said smirking that same devilish smirk he always had. His creepy silver blonde hair was only add to the disgust Bastille felt.
“Oh feeling a little backstabbed Brother? Good, you see how it feels…that someone who can betray the Cunningham blood can come back and regain its title in little less then two hours…little malice have we?” She spat venomously.
“On the contrary, my dear sister…I am amazed and yes, admittedly a little bewildered. But not for long…”
He pulled out a gun and held it up.
“Im sorry dear sister…but you have become a hindrance to our plans…there for I will do what father failed to do, good bye Violette…”
He shot and Bastille dodged to the side but felt the bullet singe her arm. She glared at her brother.
“You are going to have to try harder…jack ass!” She said pulling out her own gun and firing. But he was quicker.
“Wha- “ she said shocked. He was behind her wrapping a gently but sturdy arm around her waist and pulling her chin up. Bastille went to turn her gun over her shoulder but her brother pulled the trigger on her gun before it could even reach the exact mark. Luckily Bastille had whipped her head away.
“You forget, I am the same as you…able to read others movements by their muscles…able to see things unseen…through the lions eyes” He laughed.
“The only difference is I deserve them you rat-bastard” She cursed but he was indeed stronger then her. Bastille hadn’t kept up on her training. Suddenly she felt arms encircle her again this time a females.
“VERA?!” She turned and began to try and wrangle out but Aiden frowned and held up a gun.
“Poor poor Princess…” Vera cooed in her ears. Bastille went still and held out her arms willingly. Her face became solemn and with ease she concentrated. Aiden shot and Bastille was just able to whip her face just far enough that the bullet pierced scathed her temple. It was not a killing blow but she felt the force of it and fell to the floor, Vera letting her slip there with ease. Vera turned to her younger brother, Aiden and smiled. “Young Brother…shall we go inform mother that Bastille had left us?” She said softly.
“No, just inform her that she is growing terribly ill….and there might be no chance of recovery.” He said giving her one last smirk. That was no where in hell a fair fight. Bastille thought she had only laid there five minutes before pushing herself up, but it had in reality been half an hour. She dragged herself towards the gun range desk, trying to find a gun with real bullets…but her hands fumbled and Lola came in next to her with her usual happy greeting. It was then that Lola noticed the blood and Bastille slipped slamming her own head onto a desk and falling down.
Wearing a white shirt that day had been a mistake, the blood had soaked it red within seconds and her long blonde hair had been stained as well. Bastille felt the blood sting her shoulders and for the last time she saw Lola’s frantic face calling out words Bastille couldn’t hear.
The water froze over and Bastille was stuck hugging her knees inside the prison. Her other self was the room around her, and it would not release her…not for a while. They would sleep…sleep…
“London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down….London bridge is falling down….My fair lady….”
Singing to herself, the voice echoed in the walls around her like a creepy forgotten lullaby.
Bastille could faintly hear the paramedics, as if in the far distance…she could not feel however, as they lifted her onto the stretcher, rushed her to the hospital, or rushed her into the ER…she could not feel, see, or hear as they finally gave up and set her in a hospital bed. All the while, her eyes remained half open, clouded over in a dead way…and her lips moved, softly singing…
London Bridge is falling down….falling down…….fall…ing…down….London bridge is falling……down….my….fair….lady.
