…It was raining that night, too.
The phone hadn’t wrung in hours, even as her ears strained and her fingers itched to lurch out to a phone that would never ring. She wanted to hear his voice. Hear him tell her it wasn’t true. Yet she didn’t, for fear that it could be true. Alice couldn’t comprehend the vicious words that had been scrawled upon the letter that now sat upturned on the oaken table beside her. All she could see through the blur of her watery eyes was the elegant signature so arrogantly curling and looping at the bottom of the page.
Sera a’ Brea.
The sight of that last name, signed with that handwriting, was enough to make her chest cringe. That, however, was just salt on the wound that had been caused by the bulk of the script. It was a new feeling, a raw feeling, of the deepest, most cutting sadness imaginable.
Dear Alice,
Sweetheart, I have a confession for you. In all the years since we were children, that we’ve been friends, there wasn’t a single moment our eyes weren’t on Gabriel. His eyes, his hair. We admired it all. Even as we grew into teenagers and he was fawned after by the entire school, still we thought that maybe, just maybe, we would have a chance.
It was fun, sweetie, but honestly. I don’t think you ever had a chance. These last few months it is me that he has confided in, leaving you to brew in bitter loneliness and doubt because let’s face it Alice…he just felt sorry for you. You’re pathetic. Alone, in that estate, doing god knows what with yourself, never advancing in the world. Trying fruitlessly to be something you’re not. An agent? You?
But our Gabriel…my Gabriel…kept climbing, and climbing. He left you behind. For me. And truth be told, I think I deserve it far more than you. This friendship…it was all, truthfully, a lie. You once took the one thing that meant anything away from me. Now I’m taking it back. Have fun in your little surgery tomorrow. It won’t make a difference – you’ll always be a little child.
See you at the wedding. If you can…make it.
Yours Truly.
Sadness turned inwards was like a parasite. Alice was too hurt for tears – too raw for anything but a bittersweet numb as she looked back on all the memories of that sweet, sweet girl who had been her best friend. All of the pictures on the wall – all of the smiles that had once kept her company, showing her compassion, were now all lies. Fake smiles were everywhere, and she could see them. Everything had been a delusion. In truth, she was pathetic. A coward. Yet who could blame a girl so hurt, so lost, in the loss of the only friend she’d ever truly had? Knowing now that that had been a lie left her cradling herself, staring wistfully at the flickering flames inside her fireplace.
And Gabriel. Those saccharine sweet lips and the words that she now heard as venomous poison in her mind. She felt like a used whore – a rag tossed to the side. For these long months between seeing one another had begun to develop, and she’d been so blind, so in love with the idea of someone loving her back that she would never suspect, and shower him with affection. Little did she know the thoughts that went through his head as he came to visit her, knowing that her heart would be torn from her chest the moment she found out the truth.
Heartless bastard.
And so she had gone, an emotional wreck, to what she thought might be her only salvation. They would make her stronger, make her into something better. Her dreams of being an agent, of rising up from the lousy station in her company, would be the one dream that hadn’t been a lie.
Yet it had.
They used her. Both of them. For in an instant, the anesthesia washing over her, she turned from dreamer to guinea pig. No longer was she a volunteer for limitless power, but a tossed aside tool for her lover and best friend, a living experiment for the organization OMNI. She remembered that night, of awaking to a frightening nightmare of memories that collided with the visual memory of her human self. The blinding white clouds had in fact only been the searing hot light of the surgical table, blaring through the thin veil of her eyelids. And the scurrying, traitorous fingers, scraping like knives…actual knives, tearing into her head, into her back, into her body. Cold metal at her back. Her mind was no longer her own. For that little pill of thought that they placed, believing it harmless, exploded around the network of her mind.
She became Fianna – a fallen angel out for the blood of those who would have cast her from heaven, traitorous swine jealous of her beauty, of her compassion. In truth, as she slaughtered those men and women in a fit of madness, Alice Sinclair was still there. Watching, laughing, and weeping. There was no fight to be had – because even if she did, there would be nothing waiting for her in the end. So they paid. Dante’s father fell like meat, the clatter of his knives falling around him as she tore his face and relished in the sweetness of his shredded organs plopping onto the floor.
—————————
And now, Fianna was Alice. Alice was Fianna. A balance had yet to be found, but now she knew. The truth. No longer was she that boisterous character, searching for salvation amidst man, and his tainted, undeserving power. She was herself – a woman betrayed and the pinnacle of human evolution. For what little they had done to her body, her body had adapted. Her mind was healing – she knew that now. Yet she could not simply throw away an entire year of herself. She was becoming one with the creature she now was. And revenge was but a breath away.
“A-Alice…?” Came the shuddering voice behind her as she drew the door shut with a click. For a moment she stood still, shoulders squared, preparing herself for the sight she was about to see. Slowly, slowly, Fianna turned to face the woman standing pressed against the wall, having fled her seat where needles lay scattered. It took everything she had not to snap. Both Alice and Fianna wanted her head, wanted to crush it beneath their claws, feel her scream for mercy.
Yet she wanted to relish this. Taste the sweetness of it.
“Hello, Sera.” Saccharine sweet tones swirled from her lips like an intoxicating perfume, her hands coming up to adjust the collar of her coat. It was a tan duster, sweeping lengths of jean-like wool falling to the tops of her boots. It was the perfect cover for her wings, which lay wrapped to her body with the tightest of cloths, pulling them against her and hiding the one thing that kept her from being human. This, however, kept her completely immobile, and took from her one of her greatest defenses. And she knew she was being hunted. But she didn’t care. Not anymore. Proof further that she would risk coming into such a populated club…she couldn’t wait anymore. Didn’t want to. No longer was Alice a pathetic coward, a creature below the thoughts of this one – this sickening whore who looked at Fianna, expecting mercy.
She wouldn’t get any.
“You…you should be dead.” Sera stuttered, drawing further away, as if that could save her.
And then Alice took a step forward.
“You once took the one thing that meant anything away from me. Now…I’m taking it back.”
Sera’s desolate screams wrung out, unheard by the pounding beat of the club.
