Body, Mind and God

Chapter 33: Isibel

Chapter 33: Isibel

Izzy hadn't mean to break down in front of Diana. That had been downright embarrassing, and a huge shock to everyone involved. Diana had handled the confrontation pretty well though. Isibel hadn't been killed, which she counted as a victory, and Diana hadn't had her head chewed off, which Izzy decided made it a victory for her too. Then Di had to suffer through the whole new Guarder thing, and to top it off, had a very obvious, flamboyant tattoo she now had to hide for the rest of forever. Or close enough to that anyway.

"Diana!" Izzy heard Di's dad call up the stairs. "What on earth is taking you so long?" Isibel looked at Diana, who flinched.
"What do I do about my tattoo?" Diana hissed. Isibel looked at her wardrobe, and decided now they were friends that it would be perfectly acceptable for her to go through Diana's clothes. She dived into Di's closet and rummaged around a bit. Surely she had a high necked top somewhere! She spotted what she was looking for - A black turtleneck shirt that would cover Diana's tattoo - and tossed it at her still frozen friend.
"Put that on!" Izzy hissed at her. Diana managed to pull it over her head, open the door, and yell to her father downstairs simultaneously.
"I'm coming down now!" She yelled, before disappearing down the stairs. Isibel and Athelia shared a look, before following her.

Downstairs was dim, with only the light of the moon lending any ally against the twilight shadows. A figure moved into the room, and unthinkingly, Isibel conjured up a fireball with which to defend herself.
'Isibel! No!' Isis protested. But Isibel couldn't let the flames on her palm disappear. 'You'll reveal us.' Isis tried a different track. Still, Isibel felt threatened enough to hold onto her fire, the fight or flight instinct outweighing her need to remain secretive.
"Good god!" A male voice yelled. It took a minute for Isibel to realize who it was. Diana's father. He had obviously seen the exposed flames in her hand.

Isibel couldn't find it in herself to care. The flames which had been summoned for defensive purposes, now rendered unnecessary, were bewitching her. The red, orange and yellow flickering light was pulling her into herself. The last time she had used these flames...
"Isibel! What the Hades?" Athelia yelled. 
"What the hell is that?" Di's father yelled.
"Isibel, get rid of it!" Diana demanded.
'Isibel, cease the flame. NOW.' Isis sounded scared.
But Isibel headed none of them. So many voices, all demanding such similar things, all with equally important distinctions, were lost to the roar of blood echoing in her head, the crackle of flames in her hand. The fire was simultaneously promising a defence against all evil, her revenge on everyone who had wronged her, and dredging up memories she would rather forget.

Flames. Charring skin. The smell of burning flesh. The feeling of victory as she defeated her enemy. The satisfaction of getting back at someone. How she had enjoyed watching a human being wither and turn to ash, all because of her. How sick to her stomach she had felt afterward, when reality had hit, and she had realized that she was a murderer.

Her eyes still locked on the flame, she fell to her knees, powerless to stop the torrent of horrendous scenes from her darkest hour flashing before her eyes. She vaguely made out the screams of Diana and Athelia, the shouts of Mr Hunt, the high pitched crying of an unknown origin.
"Isibel!"
"Isibel!"
'Isibel'
People screamed her name, making naught a difference. The flames held her captive. They forced her to watch, over and over again as a man died by her hand. Feelings of hopelessness and self-loathing filled her being, making themselves into part of her very essence. She could see, in the flames, what she had become. A monster. A horror. And she hated the world all the more for making it a necessary evil. Was the blackness now corrupting her soul a fair price to match the lives she may or may not have saved? 

She was captivated by the fire, but freed by ice.

A bucket of frigid water had been emptied over her head, dousing the flames, and soaking both herself and the carpet.
"Good Gods!" She cried, released from the bewitchment.
"That's my new carpet!" Di's father yelled. Isibel at least had the grace to look sheepish. She glanced around the room, taking in the state of the faces surrounding her. The look of horror and curiosity mingling on Mr Hunt's face. Diana's expression remained neutral, although Isibel thought she could see a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. Athelia looked disappointed, angry and worried, all rolled into one neat package. And then there was a young boy hiding behind Mr Hunt's legs, his face full of wonder at her antics.
"Daddy, she had fire in her hands." The boy spoke, breaking the oppressive silence of the room.
"Yes, yes she did." Mr Hunt whispered. The boy smiled.