Dei Amor (formerly "Deus Relicta")

Chapter 1 : 'Madman'

The streets glistened in the moonlit rain, and in another room a cheerful song played through the walls, a lullaby perhaps; an ode to the moon.

Lucille peered out of a rain speckled window, overlooking the avenue. Across the road, fairy lights from a coffee shop's display cast sparkling beams onto the puddles..

She sighed wistfully, and leaned her head against the windowpane, the coldness of its touch scarcely more than a pinch.

Nothing seemed more peaceful than the night, with the crescent moon illuminating the tops of the red-roofed houses. Plumes of smoke rose slowly into the starlit sky, caressing the stars. In the distance, a church bell struck eleven, and an eerie chiming echoed over the stillness of the city.

Lucille felt her eyes closing; let the quiet pattering of the rain ease her tiredness, but something caused her to stir. A nudge; a tingling in her fingertips, a whisper in the air.

She glanced up, confused, and saw there was someone descending the night street. A man clad in pastel blue, skipping along and swinging a white parasol about.

Lucille watched in fascination as he drew near to the orphanage. He seemed so cheerful, even though he must be soaked through the way he was dancing with his parasol, twirling and spinning and waltzing.

The poor man must be insane.

 She felt her eyelids drooping shut once more; it was only a madman, nothing to fear.

A minute passed, and she yawned; glanced up again to check if the man had passed. He had not. He was in the centre of the street now, just outside the orphanage.

The fine detail of his clothing was now apparent; the intricate folds in his tunic, the shiny slippers, possibly made from silver - and his long white hair flying around him he continued to twirl in circles like a drunken ballerina.

His hair was white, but he could not be older than twenty, and that was the most surprising thing.

Who was he, to dress in such odd attire, and to be dancing in the middle of the night, in the rain?

She shifted in the windowsill, trying to get a better look, when he abruptly stopped halfway through a spin - and turned with a certain fierceness to face the orphanage. His eyes darted across the building, and landed on her.

Lucille yanked the curtains shut in horror; clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream.

Seconds passed, and still she hid; curtains pulled tight across the window.

A madman in Genevieve, and he was right outside the orphanage! Suppose he decided to knock on the door?

Suppose he was here to adopt one of the children? It couldn't be.

A few minutes went by, that was time enough. He would have forgotten her by now.

Breathing a shaky sigh, Lucille dared to peek out from between the curtains; and gasped.

The man had waited for her, and his unsettling gaze met her own.

It was not possible. No one ever remembered her a minute after seeing her.

Lucille hesitated, and then slowly brought her hand to the glass and waved at him.

"Lucille, what are you doing up? I told you to go to bed an hour ago!" Matron stood in the doorway, a cane in hand, her blind eyes staring straight at the young woman at the end of the room, even though she could not see her. "And you were told to put the fire out too."

"I'm sorry, Matron, I lost track of the time." Lucille glanced out the window quickly, only to see an empty street.

What happened to the man?

Where was he?

"Put the fire out, and get to bed, this is your last warning," Matron closed the door, and the faint tapping of her cane echoed quietly as she shuffled back downstairs.

Lucille pinched her arm, and ran back to the window - but there was only an empty rain swept street.

It felt so real, surely, she had not been mistaken. She took one last look out the window, and a groan emanated from within her chest as a dreary, utterly devoid avenue stared back.

Who was she to hope? There was no exception to the curse. Her mind was playing tricks on her, and perhaps that was hurt the most.

She could not even trust herself anymore.