29 January 2011

Puppeteers: Death of a Friend

Title: Death of a Friend
Author: SilverInk
Writing: story excerpt/ random writing
Word Count: 927

There is a small pool of blood. 
Unfortunately, it isn't mine. 
--|--~~--|--
"Why?!"
Cold gray eyes met her shriek. "I had to," came the murmured reply, so quiet that the wind blowing past her lips could hardly make out the sound. Clearly, the new puppeteer said, "Bree, promise me you won't tell Ever how she died."
"She was Ever's roommate," Bree replied. stroking Cassia Larken's amber hair as she tried to convince herself Cassia wasn't really dead. She was her best friend's roommate--but was she only that? "Sophia, please, of all people, why Cassia?"
"I didn't really think," Sophia replied softly. She was still standing, her straight black hair flowing down gracefully. Her back was straight, and she stood tall, as if she were proud of her deed. 
Bree shook her head. Cassia had been her friend too, the Tracker that had taught Bree how to deal with the puppets. "How could I? You killed a teammate, Sophia. I have to tell Elijiah how it went down. What he decides to announce is not my decision."
"I didn't say Elijiah," Sophia said. "I said Ever. Ever Blaize. She is the only one I'm concerned about knowing the truth."
Bree blinked back tears that stung her eyes. The saltwater was unfamiliar to her, and she couldn't help but remember that the last time she had cried in pain was when a Marionette tracker had burned a library with icefire. The flames billowed outward with every gust of wind and the blue tongues licked at the clouds, sending waves of ash drifting over the town and leaving only brittle soot of once-smooth pages. 
She picked up Cassia's broken body, and a few more drops of blood dripped out where Sophia's untamed puppet had pierced her heart. Bree glared at the new puppeteer harshly "Ever's my best friend. Come on."
Why? Bree wailed mentally as she led the way back to headquarters. True, Cassia wasn't a puppeteer, and any new recruit would not know to mourn her death more than another citizen, but Cassia Larken had become one of the most respected Trackers in the Agency for her knowledge on puppet lore. She hadn't been a bad medic either. 
Sophia trailed behind her silently, her pale violet skin catching the moonlight. Her gray eyes seemed to burn into Bree's back or else Cassia's limp form, but her expression was one of cool sorrow. When they neared the base, Sophia strode forward and opened the secret wall-door so they could pass. They proceeded through the dark entrance hall with Sophia in the lead until they reached the second door. 
"I will give the report," Bree said evenly, controlled. 
Sophia's eye's flashed, so quickly that she couldn't tell if it was pity or concern or unease. "Are you sure?" she ventured, but Bree cut her off with a swift look. Her green eyes briefly met the Sophia's gray ones. 
"I am the senior puppeteer. It is my duty to do so," she said cooly. Sophia dropped her gaze instantly. Here Bree could have taunted or mocked or challenged the new puppeteer in over a dozen ways, but she let the case drop. "You go take a shower and return to your room. I will speak with Elijiah."
The door to her side opened at a mental gesture and Bree strode in, bearing the dead victim. People stared, and when the death had been confirmed, a ruckus emerged, first quietly, with growing urgency. Bree saw Sophia slip away towards the dormitories, as she had instructed.
"She can't be dead! She's survived death before, she'll be ok."
"Not Cassia Larken! What could have happened?"
"Bree, you're unscathed! But Cassia--what--"
"CASSIA!" Ever's screech came over clearly and even Bree flinched as the Analyst-apprentice rushed over. "Cassia, no, no." Tears flowed out like water from a spring as she checked her friend and roommate over to no avail. There was only the one small puncture where the puppet had shot through her sternum and shattered her heart.  There was hardly even any blood. A stretcher had arrived and the dead Tracker's body was placed on the floating platform and covered by a white sheet before being pushed away. Ever stumbled half-heartedly after it for a while before nearly slipping on her own tears. Bree caught her and led her friend away. 
"Bree--Bree, what happened. T-Tell me!" They were standing before Bree's room now--she knew not to lead Ever to her own where it would have so many reminders of the now-dead girl. As a certified puppeteer, Bree had her room to herself. She sat her friend down on the bed as Ever choked on her tears. She wiped them away angrily, demanding to know what happened again.
"Here," she said, handing her friend a handkerchief from the collection hanging on the wall. "Cry yourself out, girl. I need to go report to Elijiah. I'll be back. Go ahead and cry yourself out."
She left the room quickly and headed directly for the executive offices. 
--|--~~--|--
If there was one thing weird about Ever it's her eyes. Usually brown, with no special effects like everyone else's. They were nice without anything else. Rich and soft brown, like a small pool of liquid chocolate. If you continued to think about it that way, her hair is like a waterfall of dark chocolate, silky smooth with the slightest waviness and light touches of cinnamon and chestnut.
No one ever noticed her hair. But everyone remembered her eyes, forever a pool of melting chocolate. 
At least, that's what they thought.

Artist's Note: So I guess last time's post wasn't too random, eh? No, actually it was just because I randomly got the words in the first section in my mind and had to write something on it. So I did.
Like this one better? Dislike? Suspicious? Confusions? Guesses?
Still have no idea wtf (HAH Sarah Palin, I used it RIGHT! And I haven't even graduated HIGH SCHOOL!) "Puppeteers" is and what the difference is between puppeteers and Puppeteers? Ok, that's my fault, I'm not done with the "Story Briefs" page of the site yet. I'll add Puppeteers on there soon. Any other stories I need to summarize up there? And....anyone have a better title for the page besides "Story Briefs"? >_<
And thus, Silver Ink presents the final actual writing post of this writing-year. Starting next week...well, you'll read about this on the next post, which will be...February 1st, 2011
~SilverInk

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