Author's Note: Just a reminder, if you don't like excessive cursing and unreasonable people, this chapter isn't for you. This one has been completely changed. It once held some pretty heavily implied fantasy stuff, but it didn't meld well into this story line, so I dropped it. Still applies, but it won't ever be mentioned again. Sorry, but it just wasn't working.
~~~
Leninora's POV
Location: Don't Fucking Care
Date: Too inebriated to estimate how long ago The Kidnappings happened
~~~
I feel the alcohol mess with my perception of time.
What could have been 1 hour is only a minute, which is confirmed by a clock next to my face.
It also tells me a self-decided day has only been 15 minutes.
Why is everything so slow? I feel like I'm floating through molasses.
The pills shouldn't be affecting me like this. I should be dull, but not inoperable. Though, they weren't supposed to bring back my memories either and fuck all-mighty did I get those back.
"Fuck," I groan at the flash of memories that rises to the surface like black sludge. I slam my head against the floor a few times to temper the dreaded flow of images that cross my mind.
It takes a few minutes, but finally the memory of my past drifts back to the back burner of my fucked up little mind.
I slog through my thoughts, trying to catch a drifting idea of why I might be suffering these side-effects, the memory and the addiction, but the thoughts crumble away the more I try to catch them.
Maybe it's the........Maybe..... alcohol? I shake my head. I like alcohol, so that's not it.
Maybe........wrong amount of enzymes to protein ratio? I groan....That doesn't even make sense.....
I think I gave myself a concussion.
I stop trying to make sense of what's going on.
Dontavion's been digging into my head lately, and to preserve any chance we have of escaping, I had to find something to dull out my thoughts. If I can't think, he can't pull anything from me.
Unfortunately, I think it's backfired.
I wasn't prepared for my addiction to pills to get so out of control, or the need for a good stiff drink to wash them down to be so integral to that addiction. Like a virus, it's consumed my thoughts and body.
I now understand the phrase 'chasing the high,' because that's all I've been doing lately. Chasing that unreal feeling of being completely fucking numb. While the pills help me remember my past, they help me keep it at the back of my mind. That's the best place for those memories, really.
I had only intended for this to last a month or so, but I think it's been a few months now. I can't seem to stop though.
This all could have been avoided, if I'd just been a little more aware.
The final part of my plan almost completely rides on my ability to follow my instructions. I can't really call her, so I sent her a letter.
In the letter, I gave my mother all of the information she would need to convince the government to move in on Dontavion.
I included names of those they should go after before they did so; all those dirty politicians and senators that Dontavion thought he was so smart to include in his little fantasy bullshit.
I included the locations of the Mav Estates; I explained which ones are armed, and which ones will need immediate medical support when everything goes down.
I gave my mother the exact date of when I'm going to have the little team I've created bust a cap in this metaphorical Bitch.
I told her what she would need to do on her own, without the support of the local police, and last but not least, I explained to her about LPP. The little girl is going to need an identity when the shit hits the fan, and I have just the identity she can use. All I need is my mother to do her thing.
I sigh as I hit another cloud of thoughts. Our plan is going to have to be sooner rather than later....I got caught sending the letter off with one of the mobile pleasure slaves, and now I'm not so sure if the letter even got to her.
It's not like I don't have a contingency plan in place if the girl does get intercepted, but I can't seem to remember what the plan was.
Shame, cuz it was probably awesome.
Either way, to avoid any slip of the tongue with Dontavion, I found some of my old things, and made a patch of pills that must have still been in their testing phase, because there is no way I'd want to bring this on myself.
Addiction like this is a life destroyer and I must have been one hell of a teenager, because I took to smoking, drinking and pill-popping like a fish to water. It's just too easy, and it feels just so damn good.
Or at least it did at first.
Now, everything is so completely focused and yet so fucking hazy. Memories that had been stripped from me returned in vivid detail and I continued to use the drugs and the alcohol when I finally remembered why I am here. The drugs are the only things keeping the memories in place, I think. But they're also the only thing that's holding me in place.
I eventually had to go to LPP, or Cyan (Like the color, SS-EYE-Anne) as I've taken to calling her in my head, and told her what I was doing...
or it might have been Savannah? One of those kids.
I've lost place of what I'm even doing anymore, or what I've said to whom.
I know I turned over my plans to someone.
I can't be trusted in my state of mind, and luckily I had the foresight to write everything down in case something like this happened.
Now I just need to wait. I know too much, and I'm worried I might over-indulge too much information to someone that might fuck up our plans or just think I'm insane. I could just imagine what I'd let slip...
Grief is a mother-fucker, and I'll be damned if it takes away any of my credibility.
I drift as I stare up at the ceiling... letting the shards of memory piece together the facts...I was the one who built the memory machine, not Dontavion. He doesn't hypnotize people, he just fucks with their brains. Literally.
I created the machine that pulled works on brains; it does in fact destroy the connections between event and people memory, while leaving the connections between intelligence in place, and it kills me to remember the real reason for it. I've also remembered who Dontavion really is, and his real plans.
World Domination!
...Cue the maniacal music.
He'd been playing the long game, but he must have gotten bored.
Kidnapping isn't new for him but this many people and in this way is bold and uncharacteristic for him. This is closer to something I'd have expected from his twin Dontavia or his older sister, Britania. Maybe even Rodney.
Not Dontavion though, he has always been more interested in treating humanity like pawn pieces in a chess game.
He would invest in a company that down the road would destroy a water source in some way. Then that would inevitably poison a town that he was targeting.
He's a fan of the long games; whittling down slowly but surely the foundation until its own weight crushes his opposition. He's been working on making his family a pillar in the National political community, and the underground community as well, but this latest scheme is going to destroy him and his family if he get caught.
Something must have changed.
I just hope that whatever it is doesn't bite me in the ass when it comes to a head.
~~~
With my head whirling in why's and who's, I close my eyes for a nap.
Not even two seconds later, the door to my room opens with a bang.
I emulate a lizard expression; slow lazy eyes, relaxed mouth, body splayed over the chaise lounge chair thing I stole none to discreetly from Britania's room this morning.
Rodney Mav's scent fills the air, but it's got the oddest tinge to it. Like gasoline. God damn, he stinks.
I stretch a little to get him in my sights....and frown when I get a look at his face.
He looks elated. Exuberant.
...It usually scares him to be in my presence. Something's up.
Little Pinky and I cut off his thumb a few months ago, because he was trying to sneak into her room. I pretended it to eat it, and he's been a little punk about it ever since.
"What the fuck do you want?" I ask, keeping my voice neutral.
"Dontavion sent me to give you an ultimatum." Rodney smiles his cute little face for all it's worth.
My hand twitches at my side, searching for my gun, but it's a ghost reflex. My gun's hidden back home in California, at the Lockheart Estate.
Grunting in aggravation, I grab for the green bottle of Gin under the chair and pull out my bottle of pills. I can't remember the last time I popped one, so I drop a single tablet on my tongue, wincing at the bitter tinge of the calcium, and chase it down with a splash of poison.
Rodney watches me with eyes full of fascination, and it makes me feel on edge. I hate feeling on edge.
"I choose C. Whatever C is, that's what I'm going to do." I inform him.
Rodney's eye twitches, and he says something back....but he's suddenly all wavy now. His little arms whirl around his head, and his hair turns a vivid orange hue with streaks of burgundy red.
I watch him with rapt attention as his tongue falls out of his mouth and it wiggles away like a worm.
Ah man. Shit.
Fuck...one too many pills.
Everything seems to be running too fast now. Careful what you wish for, cuz dog-damned if being too fast isn't hard on the stomach.
Something changes in me.
I feel everything get just a little more fucked up in my head.
My inhibitions and morals float away.
~~~
I black out.
Time passes by as I transition between something like a deep sleep and a heavy drunken stupor.
~~~
I come to with a prickling sensation running up and down my arms.
I've got no idea what I did, but as I come back to flames licking the darkness of my soul, and flames literally burning the hair off my arms, I realize I've done something bad.
"Really fucking bad," I whisper, as I stare into the flames.
~~~
Authors Note: I wanted to make something a little more clear, mostly so I don't confuse anyone. Leninora Lockheart is my own character, as are Dontavion's whole clan, and some, NOT ALL, of the other characters, (Rhonda, Sonny, Roman, the kids). These characters (SOME, NOT ALL) are from their own little world or alternate universe, but it's only going to be brought up from time to time.
Leninora has her own story, and every once in a while I'll have her in the chapters talking about things that have to do with her and her issues and her past. I'm not writing it to overshadow Sang's story but to give a little perspective on Leninora's personality and abilities, and also Dontavion's drive to do what he wants to do.
Sang will not be a part of Leninora's story, if I ever get around to actually writing it to publish. This is just a GhostBird fan-fiction.
Sang's story is all about the balances of life. Sang, with Len's help, will unlock the amazing potential of her own mind. I always imagine Owen being the one that does that for Sang in CL Stone's books, ssssooo I've flipped that and made Leninora the one who helps Sang become this amazingly smart and analytical genius. With Leninora's own story and lack of any real morals, you're going to notice the side effects of this relationship they have, for the both of them.
At the same time, I'm showing how Sang really does require a huge variety of personalities to be happy in a relationship. Or at least my take on Sang does.
Thank you for reading! I appreciate all the votes and hope you enjoy where I'm taking this little story!
Love, Timmy.