Disclaimer: As far as I know, I didn’t become a millionaire over night. I
DON’T OWN THEM!
September, 26th, early evening.
Days had gone by and still Karima was no better---even worse she was
refusing to see anyone about it. For some reason she was too terrified to
see any one.
Ororo had taken her gravely ill sister to one of her hideouts that where
dotted about the city. They weren’t exactly the Ritz but at least they
were marginally better than the place she’d found Karima in.
For the last few days Ororo had been concentrating on keeping her sister’s
fluids up in the near stifling heat of the late Cairo summer and trying to
make her eat something. She had next to no real body fat and hardly any
muscle strength. To top it all off it seemed her time to give birth
couldn’t be far off either.
During the process of actually keeping her sister alive the last thing
Ororo wanted to do was push her to tell her what had happened to her. But
she really, truly did need to know how she had come to be here---in this
state.
Karima had managed to give her a few details but for the most part she was
nonsensical, the fever was making her increasingly delirious.
The information Ororo had gleaned was that Karima had been held captive,
perhaps for years, she couldn’t tell. How she had escaped was yet another
mystery. She kept on mentioning shadows, dark shadows but couldn’t---or
wouldn’t elaborate. The most illuminating detail she managed to come up
with was the reason for the attack on their small Kenyan village. The
attack that had left almost the entire tribe-including their parents-dead.
* * *
Prying her eyes open slowly, Karima stirred from her restless sleep. The
lighting in the small room was slight but she could make out her sister
standing, with her back turned, at the far side of the room.
Lifting her head from the ‘bed’ a fraction she whispered, “He---he
came---“ She abruptly burst into a coughing fit, thick, milky coloured
mucus bursting from her mouth and dripping down her chin.
Ororo rushed to her side from the small sink that she’d been rinsing some
clothing in. She knelt down, wiping the mucus away with the bottom of her
‘dress’. Karima was lay on a mattress of straw and covered with several
layers of linen that Ororo had ‘liberated’ from a market stall a few days
prior.
+ “What is it Karima?”+
Karima opened her eyes again, her head falling to the side in Ororo’s
direction.
+ “He came for me---Ororo, it was me.”+ Her voice was very weak and her
mouth dry. The effort to speak was clearly causing her much pain.
+ “Who Karima? Who is ‘he’? Who did this to you?”+ Ororo prompted,
struggling to keep herself from raising her voice in desperation. But
after several days of constant frustration, to at last maybe get some
concrete information out of her sister made her lose herself slightly. It
wasn’t Karima’s fault that she couldn’t tell her much, she knew that. But
she couldn’t help but get her hopes up either.
Ororo reached down to Karima’s face, gently caressing her shallow cheek as
she repeated calmly, + “Who did this to you?”+
Karima’s eyes started to wonder aimlessly, like they had been all week,
lost in the delirium of fever. But, with what seemed like a concerted
effort on her part, she focused her bloodshot, hooded eyes on Ororo. Her
dry and cracked lips trembled as she opened them gradually, + “He attacked
our people---he came for me, Ororo---he killed our people to get to me.”+
Ororo was about to inquire further but Karima suddenly cried out, as loud
as she could in her greatly weakened state. Her head lurched back against
the bed as she began to writhe in agony.
The time had come.
* * *
Hour’s later.
~ “Leader,”~ the boy came running to his comrades who were in the ally
way. He struggled to catch his breath as he continued. ~ “It has happened,
the child is born.”~
The leader walked to the edge of the ally, looking out at the small window
that glowed with dim yellow light from the basement of the building
opposite.
Still looking straight ahead he said to his soldiers, ~ “Then our time has
come---let us make our move.”~
* * *
A thoroughly exhausted Karima moved weakly on the blood-covered
mattress---to out of it to really feel pain anymore.
Ororo lay the newborn down on the ‘bed’ of blankets and rags near to, but
not to close to the iron wood burning stove in the corner of the room. She
had to keep the baby warm now that the nighttime temperature had
plummeted. Then she rushed back to her sister’s side.
+ “Urrr---Oro---Ororo---“+
+ “Shush, don’t try to speak, just rest.”+ Ororo smoothed Karima’s sweat
soaked hair back as she bade her to sleep.
+ “But, my child---he will come for my child!”+ She was rapidly becoming
distressed.
Ororo shook her head, giving her sister a comforting smile, + “Your
daughter is fine Karima, no one is going to take her.”+
+ “But---but---“+ Her voice more-or-less faded out as before Ororo’s very
eyes she became weaker and weaker.
Worry instantly consumed Ororo’s face as she reached down and took
Karima’s head in her hands. Moving behind her, she laid her sister’s head
in her lap.
+ “Karima!, Karima! Please talk to me!”+ It was then she looked down and
noticed the blood, so much blood. She was still bleeding from the birth
and it showed no signs of stopping.
+ “Oh Goddess!”+ Ororo’s mind fell into a blind panic for a moment---she
didn’t know what to do. But the faint sound of Karima’s voice brought her
back from the brink.
+ “Put her somewhere safe,”+ her head rolled back and she locked eyes with
Ororo. For a moment they were clear and bright---she became the Karima
that she had loved all those years ago. + “Don’t let him have her.”+
Ororo could do nothing but watch as her sister’s eyelids began to flutter
and her breathing became quick, shallow pants. She could say nothing as
she saw Karima’s very life slipping away in her arms.
One last, lingering, hissing breath---and Karima Munroe was with the
Goddess.
Ororo stared down at her sister’s lifeless face---it was strange how the
cold pallor of death took effect so quickly.
After what seemed an eternity she blinked, several streams of hot tears
trailing their way down her face. She just couldn’t take it in that so
soon after finding her---Karima was gone.
Ororo was so lost in her shock that she didn’t notice the door creeping
open or the three dark figures rushing down into the basement room---until
it was to late.
~ “Get the child!”~
The youngest of the three rushed in the direction of the baby but didn’t
quite get there. Ororo sprang from beneath her sister’s lifeless body,
towards the boy.
~ “NO!”~ She cried as she threw herself into him, sending them both
crashing into the dirt-brick wall. His head connected with it, instantly
knocking him unconscious.
Ororo was merely stunned, gaining her senses quickly enough to move out of
the way of a flying kick that was aimed at her head. The man’s foot
created a sizeable dent in the wall, he’d leapt with so much force.
~ “Grab her!”~ The leader shouted to his remaining soldier.
Ororo tried to run for the child but was sent sprawling to the ground as
the man that had almost removed her head from her shoulders swooped his
foot along the floor. The action literally took her legs from beneath her,
and then she felt his weight on top of her back. He grabbed both her arms,
pulling them behind her and holding them fast at the wrists.
~ “NO!”~ She screamed again as she riddled and squirmed to get herself
free. She watched---helpless as the other man advanced on the child.
It was then that Ororo felt it, burning and coursing through her veins.
Her blood felt like fire and every nerve in her body screamed with the
unscratchable itch of natural electricity. She soon realised she couldn’t
stop it even if she’d wanted to as her eyes began to white over in a
static haze.
The leader suddenly stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as he
observed the physical change in the girl. Small sparks of static
electricity began to jump and pulse about her body as she fixed her
petrifying blank gaze on him.
~ “She---she was the one all along.”~ He gasped to himself.
They would be the last words he would ever utter as the skies outside
erupted. A bolt of forked lightening crashed through the small window at
the top of the wall behind the leader. Its twinned offshoots ripping
through the two men at the same time.
The one at Ororo’s back was thrown clear from her, his dead carcass
ablaze. But the one that had gone for the baby had been even less
fortunate than that in the manner of his demise. The bolt had entered the
back of his head---literally making it explode.
*
Ororo lay still, taking in harsh, laboured breaths as she stared at the
result of her actions. It took a while to sink in---for the first time
she’d used her gifts to kill.
In her eyes she had just become---a murderess.
She let her head sink back down to the dirty floor, closing her eyes to
block out the sight of the bodies to her right and in font of her. The
thunder outside became nothing more than a distant rumble.
Ororo’s outstretched fingers scrapped across the sandy floor as they
slowly scrunched into fists of their own volition. She screwed her eyes
shut tighter as the smell of burnt flesh filled her nostrils. Something
like a whimper began to stutter its way from her lips as she sank further
and further into a dark downward spiral. She felt as if she where losing
her mind.
But somewhere through the darkness she heard a small sound---the cry of a
newborn. It came to her full force exactly why she had just sacrificed her
innocence.
Lifting her head from the ground, a large patch of light sand and dust all
down one side of her face, she focused on the child. It’s arms and legs
flailing wildly against the background of the fire in the stove.
Ororo brought her hands underneath her and pushed herself up from the
ground. Crawling on her hands and knees towards the babe, she scooped it
up, blankets and all. Cradling it in her arms she knelt back on her
haunches as she pulled the blankets and rags over the child, wrapping it
securely.
What was she going to do now?
Ororo struggled to think straight as she held the wriggling little life in
her arms, rocking it gently. Small noises, not quite cries yet, came from
her tiny mouth as she rubbed her balled fists over her wrinkled face.
(+ “Put her somewhere safe”+)
Thinking over her sister’s penultimate words to her she simultaneously
thought about the men who had come for them or more over their reasons for
coming. She was sure she hadn’t seen the last of them---more were certain
to come. But where was safe?
(+ “---he will come for the child.”+)
After what she had just done she was fairly sure they would come for her
too.
Looking down at the girl-child’s heart shaped face Ororo knew of only one
place where she would be safe---one place even the most hardened of
monsters would dare not attack.
Placing the baby back on the floor momentarily she quickly grabbed her
dark robe from the hook on the wall and pulled it on. Lifting the hood up
to hide her face and most importantly her hair, she retrieved the child.
Without another glance back at the carnage she ran up the stairs and
spirited away into the night.
*
The boy at last dared to move, springing swiftly to his feet---he was in
an utter confusion and panic. The still smoking bodies of his companions
lay before him and without warning he was hunched over---wretching
violently.
After he had finished he leant against the wall with his hands, trying to
catch his breath. Tearing the sick-stained veil from his mouth with
revulsion he threw it to the ground and turned his head to once more gaze
upon the dead men.
What was it the leader had said before that demon in a human form had
struck him down?
(~ “---she was the one all along”~)
He didn’t quite know what that meant but he did know that he had to get
back to the compound and inform his master of the night’s events at once.
* * *
~ “You must let me through, it is of utmost importance!”~ The boy tried to
push his way through the two guards that blocked the entrance to the main
chamber. But they stood fast; there was no way he was getting through.
~ “Where are your superiors boy?”~ The taller of the two guards asked,
both men dressed in nothing more than white loin cloths and some kind of
traditional ancient Egyptian head dress. The boy had been surprised at
their attire at first---he’d never been this far into the complex before.
But despite their rather antiquated dress both men held automatic machine
guns.
~ “She---they are---she---she killed them!”~ He stuttered frantically, his
eyes wide with desperation.
~ “What?! How?”~ These were highly trained soldiers they had sent
out---how could the rookie be the only one to come back alive?
~ “The lightening demon, she---“~
~ “SILENCE!”~ An inhumanly deep, baritone voice bellowed from behind the
guards, echoing around the chamber behind them.
All three turned around as they saw their one true lord and master
descending his ‘throne’ and heading towards them. Several female lackeys,
scattered red rose petals at his feet as he walked down the exquisitely
woven golden thread carpet that made a path through the centre of the
chamber.
As he halted about five feet away from the party he held his hand up to
them. All three dropped to their knees and bowed their heads to him.
~ “Speak.”~
The now trembling boy slowly raised his head to look at his master but the
sight he saw made him instantly lower his gaze again.
~ “ The sister---she took the child your grace and she killed the
others.”~
~ “How?”~
~ “She---she killed them and your bride was dead too.”~
~ “I DID NOT ASK OF MY BRIDE, I ASKED HOW SHE KILLED THEM!”~
The boy was truly petrified now, so much so in fact that a small trickle
of warm urine ran down his legs and collected at his knees. Shaking with
un-chartered fear he hastily replied, ~ “With lightening your grace, she
killed them with lightening. And my-my-my- leader said that she was the
one---just before she struck him with her lightening.”~
The master said nothing as his gaze drifted from the boy, his dark eyes
holding a far off look.
The boy chanced a small glance up, relieved to see that his master no
longer had his eyes bearing down on him. But his relief was to be short
lived.
~ “Find the girl.”~ The tall man directed the order at the two guards
either side of the boy. ~ “And as for you---you have failed me.”~
~ “But master, she had powers; we could not---“~
~ “SILENCE!”~ He commanded for the second time that night as he took a
few more steps toward the boy, but this time his lackeys did not follow.
Placing a long, thin hand on his head, the master gripped at his hair.
By now the young soldier was in a ‘blue funk’, the abject fear paralysing
him. It was then that he began to feel an odd tingling sensation in his
head. It started to pulse and thud like an extremely bad headache---soon a
sharp pain joined the other feelings. As the boy opened his mouth to
scream he realised he was no longer capable of emitting any kind of sound.
Unbeknownst to him, his mind was being wiped. His young mind was being
banished to a state of limbo---forever to walk the dark, cold depths of
the astral plain.
The master began to smile as he observed the boy’s eyes rolling back into
his head and the foam that was collecting at the corners of his mouth.
As the boy collapsed to the ground in the brief convulsions before
physical death, his executioner said with thunderous authority and as a
reminder to all other personnel in the room, ~ “ Nobody fails the Shadow
King.”~ He slowly turned around in a three hundred and sixty degree
circle, eyeing every occupant in turn, ~ “Ever.”~
As the King returned to his throne, the two guards set off to gather a
larger group of soldiers to find and apprehend the girl. But as they where
leaving they each grabbed an arm of the dead boy, dragging his heavy body
with them for appropriate disposal.
Two other guards fell into their vacated posts immediately.
* * *
Ororo sat with her knees hitched up, arms wrapped around them tight in a
shop doorway. Her robe still covered her from head to toe, like a monk. It
made sure that the occasional passing vagrant paid her no mind.
All she wanted to do was go back to her sister’s body, now that the child
was safe. She wanted to bury her. Wanted to give her the rights that all
the people of their tribe in Kenya were bestowed when their time came. It
was the least she could do.
Ororo knew it was a risk---but she had decided she had to go back for
Karima. Maybe those people would be waiting for her there---quite frankly
she was past caring. What did this life hold for her now anyway?
Once again, in the space of a few hours she had lost her entire family.
Getting up from the doorway, she started off down the street. In her
emotional state her guard was down---again. She didn’t hear the panicked
whispers of ~ “That is her, the weather witch!”~ She paid absolutely no
attention to the beating sound of multiple running feet. She turned around
a fraction too late as a wooden club came smashing down on the back of her
head---sending her into unconsciousness.
* * *
Ororo was aware of sound before she became aware of anything else. She
realised after a moment tat she was being dragged, some one at either arm.
Her legs were trailing limply behind her. She tried to lift her head and
open her eyes but a blinding pain ripped through her skull and down neck.
Eventually she came to a stop and someone, perhaps one of the men at her
side was saying something. But she was still far too groggy to concentrate
or focus on what her returning senses were picking up.
~ “Lift her to her feet.”~
The two men hoisted Ororo up, supporting her by the underarms. Her heavy
head fell back and her feet were still not flat on the floor. Opening her
brown eyes with a few flutters of her eyelids, an ornately decorated
ceiling came into view. It was high, at least forty foot or so above them
and covered in gold white and blue symbols. Hieroglyphics too?---she
couldn’t tell, her eyes were still slightly blurry.
~ “ Ororo.”~
She lifted her head forwards with a great effort and the man with the deep
voice who had just addressed her came into her line of vision. She blinked
a couple of times to focus. He was a large man, dressed in a blue silk
robe with what looked like a solid gold plate covering his shoulders and
neck. He had an ancient headdress, its tall smooth shape accentuating his
very strong Arabic features. His eyes where large, dark and piercing,
underlined with a traditional line of kohl.
~ “ Ororo, I am the Shadow King.”~
#This must be him!# she thought to herself. The man who had ruined her
life---twice.
~ “Yes, it is her.”~ The King said to no one in particular. He got up from
he gilded throne and proceeded to walk down the five small steps towards
where Ororo was being held up by the guards. The girl-servants around him,
that were all dressed in white, off one shoulder robes and held large,
wicker fans, all stepped to the side as he descended.
Ororo locked her eyes on his as he neared her, any hazy confusion or fear
she’d been feeling rapidly turning into anger.
~ “Yes, so beautiful---she is the one.”~ He said quietly, running one bony
finger down her dirty cheek. A few small rivulets of blood from the blow
to her head stained it.
Ororo stared at the man with utter contempt, she was about ready to spit
in his face when he moved his hand over her mouth and laughed.
~ “I wouldn’t girl.”~ He slowly removed his ring-covered hand, placing it
instead around her chin. ~ “It appears I made a mistake when I took your
sister---but the Prophecy was not specific. I must start again.”~
Releasing her chin he turned and went back to his seat. The girls feel
back to their positions as he looked out past Ororo’s shoulder.
~ “Find the child---kill it.”~
On those words Ororo began to scream, not in fear but in pure fury and
frustration. She was thrashing about so much that even two guards were
struggling to keep a grip on her.
The Shadow King laughed loudly, a deep and throaty sound. ~ “There is no
use in fighting girl.”~ With that his dark eyes suddenly became fixed and
concentrated.
Ororo felt a tingling sensation at the back of her still aching head but
she had no time to wonder what it was. The familiar fire of her natural
electrical-conduction based bio-signature started up of its own volition.
Almost like a defence-mechanism against this---thing in her head. As her
eyes became a hazy mist the feeling in her head, whatever was trying to
invade her mind had to stop.
~ “NO! This can not be!”~ She could hear the man saying the words but she
could no longer see him as a field of static temporarily fuzzed her view.
The guards and servants became nervous as a wind began to swirl around the
chamber, faster and faster. Again, the electricity danced about its
mistress, making the panicked guards that held her let go. Once they had
released her she spread her arms wide, her head falling back as she
harnessed her awesome powers, bending them to her will.
~ “You fools! HOLD HER!”~ The King stood up quickly as he tried again to
enter Ororo’s mind, but her will was strong and her power seemed to make
it stronger. The natural electricity interrupting the electro-magnetic
flow of her thought pattern and brainwaves. He hadn’t counted on that,
he’d never come across anyone who could resist his formidable powers
before.
The winds were becoming wilder, like a cyclone as the King’s serving girls
scattered, screaming in panic. The guards with their guns and spears
debated frantically what to do. They couldn’t kill her---but how could
they defend themselves against such power.
The drapes that were hung about the chamber began to rip from the walls as
various plinths supporting old vases, bowls and other ‘ceremonial’
paraphernalia crashed to the stonework floor.
~ “You killed her!”~ Ororo shouted, her young voice holding an unearthly
authority as she accused him. She started up the steps towards the King,
her hair whipping about her wildly.
The Shadow King stood his ground, even in the face of what could only be
imminent death. But he seemed unmoved by this fact, he still had a
confidence about him as he faced-off with the young weather witch. Almost
like he knew something she didn’t.
~ “Do your worst ‘Ka’. Our fates will not be denied.”~
Ororo was confused for a second, what did he mean by ‘Ka’, but the thought
was gone almost as soon as it had come to her. Her pure anger took over,
wild and savage. On this night Ororo Munroe would do something she had
never done before and hasn’t done since. An act that would haunt her worst
nightmares forever---she took a life through rage and above
all---vengeance.
Dark, angry thunderclouds blotted out the ceiling and it began to rain.
Just a few drops at first and then it became a torrential downpour.
Sporadic flashes of contained lightening danced about in the clouds above,
desperate for freedom.
Ororo stared at the King as she struggled to contain the largest storm she
had cooked up to date. She was shocked and angered even more when she
noticed he was smiling at her---the son-of-a-bitch was actually smiling at
her.
Thoughts of her father David, her mother D’ Nare, Karima rushed through
her mind and then of her niece. The little girl that she possibly may
never see again---that was when she let go. Ororo unleashed the storm.
The room practically exploded with light sound and violent movement, as
bolts of lightening crashed down like the fury of the Gods. The ceiling
began to crack and crumble around them as the eight stone pillars that ran
parallel down the centre of the chamber began to collapse. A sound like an
earthquake started as the entire room shook, but she ignored it---her fear
of being trapped by the failing debris had become negligible in the rush
of her rage.
The last thing Ororo would remember in the noise, chaos and confusion was
the look on her family’s murderers face as a bolt ripped through his
heart. Then there was a tremendous thud at the top of her head---then
nothing but the ignorant bliss of unconsciousness.
-TBC-
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