10th DECEMBER
The days had run out. That special day had arrived once again. She had been siting in her car staring at the dashboard for about 20 minutes now, hands still on the wheel, trying to muster up the courage to step outside and begin her annal pilgrimage through this waste land of ash and silence. She twiddled her wedding ring around her finger and glanced over at the dark red roses resting on her passenger seat.
Finally climbing out she starred at her surroundings, taking in each painful detail. The horizon was nothing but shadows, grey and black silhouettes of the past, rusting structures and decaying buildings. Nineteen years later the smell of wood and smoke still lingered here, haunting the ruins of a once vibrant town. Snow fell gently, illuminating the damage of each home and building she past.
“You’re half and hour away?!?”
“Can you take a short cut?”
“Please can you send someon-“
“Hello? HELLO?”
The man flipped the top of his phone down and slid it back into his pocket.
“Is the doctor still stuck in the blizzard?” said a handmaid tenderly. Drake pushed his dark hair out of his face in frustration.
“Yes, he’s half an hour away and is we contact anywhere else they will only be longer” He sat down on the one of the stairs in defeat puting his head in his hands.
“You have been worrying yourself exhausted ever since her water broke! You have done so well today and deserve a break sir and your beautiful baby girl has finally arrived! How about a hot beverage- oh! M’am?” Drakes attention turned from the handmaid to the top of the staircase. Diana limped along gripping the banter with each step, her other hand under the small bump of her stomach. Her eyes were hollow and her blonde hair was messy from heat and exhaustion.
“Is the doctor close dear?” She croaked out.
“Diana! What are you doing?? You need to rest!” Drake called jumping up from where he was sat.
“Drake please..I’m fine.. walking makes me feel better anyway’
“No way let me walk you back to bed“
“Wait…whats that noise?”
In the distant background between the wind and snowfall was muffled sounds of screaming and gunfire.
“W-whats doing on? Is it a riot or…”
Drakes head suddenly struck back then his limp body followed, crashing to the ground. It took seconds for Diana and the handmaid to clock what had just happened and a scream echoed the lobby. She started to scramble down the stairs to get to Drakes side. Bullets rained through the windows smashing the glass into dust the icey winds fro outside flooded the room, Diana screamed again falling down to cover her head.
Hard slams came from the door as it started being ramed open, the wood started to slither and crack under the force. She glanced down at her lifeless husband blood pouring down his face, his bright eyes now lifeless. Tears blurred her vision and burned as they crawled down her cheeks. Diana snapped back into reality when the sounds of broken glass came from further in the mansion and she remembered the new life form now residing in her home. She ran up the stairs and down the corridor as fast as she could, adrenaline numbing her pains and pushing her forward.
Phoebe adjusted her hood to cover her face from the wind. She took a final step off the stair case and stood still for a while. One of the irons gates still standing creaked in the wind as she walked through and she felt the eyes of the remaining angel statue, sitting on top of the gate post, bore into the back of her head as if it remembered that night and was judging her for the waste of life.
“We have swept top to bottom. Sabertooth has tracked her scent to the gardens” A soldier reported. William Striker, a heavily aged and disturbing looking man cracked his neck in irritation. He swiped the radio from his belt and kicked to a channel.
“Sabertooth track the target as fast as you can. She’s an $100,000,00 investment. Lose her and Deadpool gets your head”
He turned around and headed out the front entrance, he lifted his hand and signal to head out.
“MOVE OUT” One of the commanders shouted. Lines of special ops troops marched out and clambered into vans and jeeps. “Time for phase 3 general” Striker said holding the radio to the general. One by one the trucks started pulling away from the mansion and the blizzared grew thicker. The general pull two black cylinders from his belt and threw them into the mansion and darted for the truck as it raced away into the night. Explosion after explosion lit up the night and the mansions front came crashing down, fire and glass shooting from the windows. Screaming, bombing and the firing of guns clashed together in a sinister symphony that echoed through the night.
Snow crunched under her boots as she carefully made her way though the once grand house. She stopped short of the winding staircase which now sulk in ruins like the ribcage of a dead carcass. In front of her was an old vase, half buried under the snow. She bent down and scraped off what she could and gently placed the roses inside, moving and arranging them to look pretty. Phoebe stood back up and lifted of her hood in respect.
“Forever, I will be sorry Mum, Dad, Elizabeth…”
Her voice cracked and ran her fingers under her eyes catching the tears before they fell, turned around and walked back on herself. When she reached her car again she felt a buzz in her pocket and check her phone. A message saying: ‘Happy Birthday!’ came up.
“yeah….Happy. Bloody. Birthday. To. Me”
The days had run out. That special day had arrived once again. She had been siting in her car staring at the dashboard for about 20 minutes now, hands still on the wheel, trying to muster up the courage to step outside and begin her annal pilgrimage through this waste land of ash and silence. She twiddled her wedding ring around her finger and glanced over at the dark red roses resting on her passenger seat.
Finally climbing out she starred at her surroundings, taking in each painful detail. The horizon was nothing but shadows, grey and black silhouettes of the past, rusting structures and decaying buildings. Nineteen years later the smell of wood and smoke still lingered here, haunting the ruins of a once vibrant town. Snow fell gently, illuminating the damage of each home and building she past.
“You’re half and hour away?!?”
“Can you take a short cut?”
“Please can you send someon-“
“Hello? HELLO?”
The man flipped the top of his phone down and slid it back into his pocket.
“Is the doctor still stuck in the blizzard?” said a handmaid tenderly. Drake pushed his dark hair out of his face in frustration.
“Yes, he’s half an hour away and is we contact anywhere else they will only be longer” He sat down on the one of the stairs in defeat puting his head in his hands.
“You have been worrying yourself exhausted ever since her water broke! You have done so well today and deserve a break sir and your beautiful baby girl has finally arrived! How about a hot beverage- oh! M’am?” Drakes attention turned from the handmaid to the top of the staircase. Diana limped along gripping the banter with each step, her other hand under the small bump of her stomach. Her eyes were hollow and her blonde hair was messy from heat and exhaustion.
“Is the doctor close dear?” She croaked out.
“Diana! What are you doing?? You need to rest!” Drake called jumping up from where he was sat.
“Drake please..I’m fine.. walking makes me feel better anyway’
“No way let me walk you back to bed“
“Wait…whats that noise?”
In the distant background between the wind and snowfall was muffled sounds of screaming and gunfire.
“W-whats doing on? Is it a riot or…”
Drakes head suddenly struck back then his limp body followed, crashing to the ground. It took seconds for Diana and the handmaid to clock what had just happened and a scream echoed the lobby. She started to scramble down the stairs to get to Drakes side. Bullets rained through the windows smashing the glass into dust the icey winds fro outside flooded the room, Diana screamed again falling down to cover her head.
Hard slams came from the door as it started being ramed open, the wood started to slither and crack under the force. She glanced down at her lifeless husband blood pouring down his face, his bright eyes now lifeless. Tears blurred her vision and burned as they crawled down her cheeks. Diana snapped back into reality when the sounds of broken glass came from further in the mansion and she remembered the new life form now residing in her home. She ran up the stairs and down the corridor as fast as she could, adrenaline numbing her pains and pushing her forward.
Phoebe adjusted her hood to cover her face from the wind. She took a final step off the stair case and stood still for a while. One of the irons gates still standing creaked in the wind as she walked through and she felt the eyes of the remaining angel statue, sitting on top of the gate post, bore into the back of her head as if it remembered that night and was judging her for the waste of life.
“We have swept top to bottom. Sabertooth has tracked her scent to the gardens” A soldier reported. William Striker, a heavily aged and disturbing looking man cracked his neck in irritation. He swiped the radio from his belt and kicked to a channel.
“Sabertooth track the target as fast as you can. She’s an $100,000,00 investment. Lose her and Deadpool gets your head”
He turned around and headed out the front entrance, he lifted his hand and signal to head out.
“MOVE OUT” One of the commanders shouted. Lines of special ops troops marched out and clambered into vans and jeeps. “Time for phase 3 general” Striker said holding the radio to the general. One by one the trucks started pulling away from the mansion and the blizzared grew thicker. The general pull two black cylinders from his belt and threw them into the mansion and darted for the truck as it raced away into the night. Explosion after explosion lit up the night and the mansions front came crashing down, fire and glass shooting from the windows. Screaming, bombing and the firing of guns clashed together in a sinister symphony that echoed through the night.
Snow crunched under her boots as she carefully made her way though the once grand house. She stopped short of the winding staircase which now sulk in ruins like the ribcage of a dead carcass. In front of her was an old vase, half buried under the snow. She bent down and scraped off what she could and gently placed the roses inside, moving and arranging them to look pretty. Phoebe stood back up and lifted of her hood in respect.
“Forever, I will be sorry Mum, Dad, Elizabeth…”
Her voice cracked and ran her fingers under her eyes catching the tears before they fell, turned around and walked back on herself. When she reached her car again she felt a buzz in her pocket and check her phone. A message saying: ‘Happy Birthday!’ came up.
“yeah….Happy. Bloody. Birthday. To. Me”
