Alexa Frostbite

7 - No Rest for the Wicked

"Now, now dearie" Wolfie smirked. "You know reasonable is the last thing I'd want to be". Her face lit up at the thought of little Lexie tearing him limb from limb.

"Wait your turn Witch. Did you forget about our deal? Once my sister lies dead at my feet, He said He'll let me come for you. And I will. Just like I promised all those years ago".

"Aww stop it dearie," she chimed, but her hands shook so much she nearly dropped the Crystal. After all this time, he'd decided to end her. She'd known he'd wanted to kill her ever since they met, but she quite liked living. She was rather good at it too. So, she'd be the obedient little dog, she'd be the servant. If she had to. Otherwise she'd lose everything before she even found it.

"Be ready to take them the next chance you get. No distractions. Is that clear?" he asked. She fell silent for a moment, thinking it over even though there was nothing to think about.

"Yes".

"Not good enough," he rasped.

"Yes, my Lord". The Crystal stopped glowing. 

Vaskel after Vaskel scurried past him like rats in the gutter. Each one was of a lower Dynasty, and all were below him. James barely acknowledged them as he strode down the corridor of the mansion. He'd purchased it several years ago from an unsuspecting realtor. Now it was from here that he ran his Empire. All five continents of it. All of it for Him. The call with Wolfie had gone as expected. After all, you couldn't expect much from an Abomination. He reached the top of the staircase and watched it slope down into oblivion. Vaskels lined each step, inclining their heads in his direction. Again, he didn't bother to acknowledge them. Their numbers increased as he neared the main hall of the mansion, which was decorated with white porcelain – His favourite material. James ordered two Vaskels to open the doors to the hall and stepped inside. The black robes he was wearing were of a Vaskelian make – a horrible material. But for Him, the clothes were only a mere inconvenience. As he stood opposite the mirror in the hall, a young woman dressed in a similar attire appeared at the back of the room.

"Hope," he greeted slowly. He still couldn't believe she was here.

"James," the woman breathed. She was just about to walk towards him, when something stopped her. A moment later it was as if she'd never even spoke. Then she gently stepped out of his line of sight. For a while, he waited for Him to appear. When He didn't, one of the Vaskels who'd been manning the doors, poked their head inside.

"He must be experiencing some trouble in Undergod. The Treaty between us and the Weres is at a delicate stage," he said. James tapped his foot on the tiles, humming to himself. Then,

"What did you just say?" The Vaskel laughed nervously.

"I said the Treaty"—

"No, I mean what did you say after that? Us. You said 'us'". He stalked forward, his steps sinking into the floor. The Vaskel only realised his mistake when James had him by the throat.

"I didn't mean you sir," he choked, flailing in mid-air.

"Of course, you didn't" James purred. "Because what am I?"

"Not a filthy Vaskel sir".

"Thank you". But James kept his hold.

"James!" Hope was standing a little way off, but her hands were reaching out to touch him. He sagged, his grip loosening so the Vaskel could wriggle free.

"Hope, please. This is family business," he whispered. As always, he was careful not to touch her. But he wanted to. Ever so desperately. He backed towards the doorway, Hope trailing after him.

"Don't do this," she pleaded. He was going to do so many things that he was unsure of what she was talking about. Then he realised. He swerved and grabbed the Vaskels throat again.

"Tell me when He's ready to speak".

"Yes, my Lord," the Vaskel stammered. Then he walked back up the stairs and across the balcony to where his garden lay.

The garden was just about the only thing that kept him from insanity amongst all of these insects. Vaskels were almost as dull as humans. All of them were lesser beings, all of them useless. Except Him. James sat amongst the roses, Hope hovering over him like a bird.

"I know the call with Wolfie frightened you," she told him. James snorted and continued to stab the ground with his fingernails.

"The Abomination? She means nothing".

"That's not what you believe, and you know it. What happens if she finds out the truth? About Alexa? Everything you've kept from her all those years".

"I kept those things from her to protect her"—

"Spare me!" Hope snapped, so loudly that he sat back on his heels. "You just wanted to control her. Like you're trying to control me". James rose to his feet.

"I would never control you," he said. His eyes bore into her and his twisted heart prayed for her to know the truth.

"I know," she said sadly. "But each day I watch Him twist you around to be just like He is. I can't keep watching for much longer".

"You won't have to," he assured her. "Soon my sister will be dead, and we'll be free. We can go and see the world. You wanted to go to France, remember? You wanted to get out of the village". Hope stared at him, eyes wide.

"You remembered?"

"Of course, I did". He tried to take her hand in his, but she pulled away at the last minute.

"Sorry, I forgot," he murmured. Hope shook her head.

"It doesn't matter," she said. She was just about to carry on, when a Vaskel knocked on the balcony doors.

"Enter!" James shouted. The Vaskel fumbled past the glass, while James shot Hope a smile. She didn't smile back.

"He's here?" he asked.

The Vaskel nodded vigorously. James stood up, brushing the mud from his robes. He glanced back at Hope and tried to catch her eye. Instead, she turned back to the roses and didn't even say goodbye.

When he returned, he wasn't the same. He never was. Every time he came out of that hall, he was different. Each strand of his mind: twisted to a new angle. At least he still remembered where the garden was. But as he knelt in the soil, a pair of scissors in his hand, Hope forced herself to turn away. By the time she could bring herself to look, all the rose heads were lying in the ground.