Deminatza
Visitor
Demi found herself in a strange dark room. She had no recollection on how she got here let alone where here is. Suddenly, she was blinded as the room was flooded with a bright light, forcing her to avert her gaze as two pairs of hands grabbed her wrists forcing her to her feet and into a forward momentum.
“Who are you,” she questioned while attempting to break the hold of her custodians, “where am I?”
A stinging slap across the face was her answer. A sense of uneasiness washed over her as she began to struggle more forcefully, yet they held fast to her.
At their destination, there were two familiar men awaiting their arrival, one bound and on their knees in the center was an older man, with long grey hair, face weathered, and battle worn, the other standing nearby, bald with a black goatee.
Every muscle in Deminatza’s body seized as she processed not only what she was seeing, but also who.
“Papa,” Demi’s voice imperceptible, but enough to cause the man on his knees to turn his gaze to her. Sirrico managed a weak smile and spoke hoarsely, “Cara mia. Look away, don’t watch.”
“Silence! She is my guest, and she will watch because this is my way of showing my gratitude. This is her reward, after all, since she and her friends destroyed the orb.”
Her eyes travelled from her father to the man speaking, Scaramandine II. There was no denying it. She would recognize his voice anywhere, yet his appearance was not the same. He stood before her as the man who once led a formidable group known as Necromari. But she didn’t understand. That was so many seasons ago, he had changed.
Somewhere in the depths of her psyche, something told her that something was not right. This was not real. How could this be real? Scar is kind, gentle, tender, warm-hearted, fiercely protective man. How is this man, this Scar, standing before her now?
“Do you remember, when you asked me ‘Why’ in a moment of respite after I launched an attack on the city of Cove?” Scaramandine II’s voice snapped her to the present. “You had no right to destroy the orb. That’s why. And this is only the beginning of my rage. Reap your reward!”
The Necromari pulled Sirrico’s head back and dragged a dagger across his throat, as waves blood cascaded down his torso.
Demi broke free from her captors and caught her father as Scaramandine II pushed him forward. She cradled him in her arms as she placed a hand on the laceration in a vain attempt to staunch the bleeding. Sirrico looked to her pleadingly, “Look away, Cara Mia, look away,” he repeated weakly until his breaths stilled as his daughter watch the life in his eyes receded to only stare blankly back.
“Papa,” the woman said weakly, shaking the body gently. “Papa… papa wake up. Wake up now papa. Please, no, don’t leave me papa. Papa…” She held her father’s body close to her, rocking back and forth pleading for him to wake up. When realization hit that he was truly gone, she lifted her face to the sky and let out a gut wrenching, piercing anguish wail, yet no sound escaped her lips. She buried her face into her father shoulder and wept unconsolably. She was unsure how much time has gone by, but long enough that tears no longer came. She laid her father’s body gently supine on the granite floor. It was only then she realized she was alone. She needed to find a way out. Next to her father’s body, was the dagger Scaramandine II used to…
Demi did not finish the thought. She instead focused on needing a weapon to defend herself. She picked it up and started her trek to escape. All was quiet and along the hall, all the doors were closed, save one. She surveyed her surrounding and marked a window that displayed the wilderness, beside it a closed door. As she made her way down the corridor, she realized she needed to pass the room with door slightly ajar.
Taking a steady breath, she listened for movement, and only heard someone’s sleeping breaths. On quiet feet, she made her way to the room and chanced a glance inside, and there Scaramandine II lay fast asleep.
Once again, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, something cried out to her to leave, but her grief demanded retribution. It would be so easy just to… As if her body and mind were in sync, she found herself standing beside the sleeping bald man. I just need to drive this dagger into his heart, and it will be done.
In their bedroom, Deminatza stood, in her nightdress, at the side of the bed, wisps of silver and white strands of hair reflected the moonlight, raising the dagger high above where Scar, his hair across his pillow, lay asleep.
“Who are you,” she questioned while attempting to break the hold of her custodians, “where am I?”
A stinging slap across the face was her answer. A sense of uneasiness washed over her as she began to struggle more forcefully, yet they held fast to her.
At their destination, there were two familiar men awaiting their arrival, one bound and on their knees in the center was an older man, with long grey hair, face weathered, and battle worn, the other standing nearby, bald with a black goatee.
Every muscle in Deminatza’s body seized as she processed not only what she was seeing, but also who.
“Papa,” Demi’s voice imperceptible, but enough to cause the man on his knees to turn his gaze to her. Sirrico managed a weak smile and spoke hoarsely, “Cara mia. Look away, don’t watch.”
“Silence! She is my guest, and she will watch because this is my way of showing my gratitude. This is her reward, after all, since she and her friends destroyed the orb.”
Her eyes travelled from her father to the man speaking, Scaramandine II. There was no denying it. She would recognize his voice anywhere, yet his appearance was not the same. He stood before her as the man who once led a formidable group known as Necromari. But she didn’t understand. That was so many seasons ago, he had changed.
Somewhere in the depths of her psyche, something told her that something was not right. This was not real. How could this be real? Scar is kind, gentle, tender, warm-hearted, fiercely protective man. How is this man, this Scar, standing before her now?
“Do you remember, when you asked me ‘Why’ in a moment of respite after I launched an attack on the city of Cove?” Scaramandine II’s voice snapped her to the present. “You had no right to destroy the orb. That’s why. And this is only the beginning of my rage. Reap your reward!”
The Necromari pulled Sirrico’s head back and dragged a dagger across his throat, as waves blood cascaded down his torso.
Demi broke free from her captors and caught her father as Scaramandine II pushed him forward. She cradled him in her arms as she placed a hand on the laceration in a vain attempt to staunch the bleeding. Sirrico looked to her pleadingly, “Look away, Cara Mia, look away,” he repeated weakly until his breaths stilled as his daughter watch the life in his eyes receded to only stare blankly back.
“Papa,” the woman said weakly, shaking the body gently. “Papa… papa wake up. Wake up now papa. Please, no, don’t leave me papa. Papa…” She held her father’s body close to her, rocking back and forth pleading for him to wake up. When realization hit that he was truly gone, she lifted her face to the sky and let out a gut wrenching, piercing anguish wail, yet no sound escaped her lips. She buried her face into her father shoulder and wept unconsolably. She was unsure how much time has gone by, but long enough that tears no longer came. She laid her father’s body gently supine on the granite floor. It was only then she realized she was alone. She needed to find a way out. Next to her father’s body, was the dagger Scaramandine II used to…
Demi did not finish the thought. She instead focused on needing a weapon to defend herself. She picked it up and started her trek to escape. All was quiet and along the hall, all the doors were closed, save one. She surveyed her surrounding and marked a window that displayed the wilderness, beside it a closed door. As she made her way down the corridor, she realized she needed to pass the room with door slightly ajar.
Taking a steady breath, she listened for movement, and only heard someone’s sleeping breaths. On quiet feet, she made her way to the room and chanced a glance inside, and there Scaramandine II lay fast asleep.
Once again, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, something cried out to her to leave, but her grief demanded retribution. It would be so easy just to… As if her body and mind were in sync, she found herself standing beside the sleeping bald man. I just need to drive this dagger into his heart, and it will be done.
***
In their bedroom, Deminatza stood, in her nightdress, at the side of the bed, wisps of silver and white strands of hair reflected the moonlight, raising the dagger high above where Scar, his hair across his pillow, lay asleep.
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