Prisoner and Guard

Rain lashed down upon the blood splattered earth, turning it into a hideous crimson mud. Two people were beneath that torrent, one was sprawled across the ground; pale white flesh torn asunder. The other was on their knees, a sword loosely gripped in their hand; her head was bowed and hidden by dark hair. Hidden so that the fallen man could not see his enemy’s tears.

~/.\~

“Here we are!”
Molly stared out of the car window at the house. It was old and massive, the sort of house that in movies is always haunted. Ivy crept up the dilapidated walls and huge windows were blocked by curtains.
“Don’t worry,” her father reassured her, “it’s a lot safer than it looks.”
“That’s not saying much,” her mother muttered, “a tipi is probably safer.” Her father chuckled as though it was a joke. Behind them, the delivery van pulled up and the men climbed out to help shift the boxes.
“Hey, Mol!” her mother called, “why don’t you take these and go choose a room?” Molly smiled and took the keys before sprinting up to the front door and unlocking it. Inside, everything was covered in white sheets, the walls, floors and the light smattering of furnishings. Everything was deathly quiet and covered in dust. There weren’t going to be any bedrooms downstairs, so the first thing she did was walk up the huge staircase. It creaked and groaned beneath her feet despite the fact it looked pretty solid.
The first room she looked in was a bathroom and the second one was huge but freezing cold. The third one was full of empty book cases so it had probably been a library or something. The fourth one was… stunning. Beautiful colours covered the walls, the floor and the ceiling; they formed huge spiral patterns that stretched across the whole room. Nodding to herself, she grinned. This was it.
It took about an hour and a half to get all of the boxes and furniture out of the van and into the allocated rooms. Molly had gratefully jumped at the chance to sort out her room while her parents and the men sorted out the rest of the house.
After putting the sheets and duvet on the bed, she lay down and stared at the pattern on the ceiling. It was hypnotising, enchanting…
“Hmm, who’s this?” It was a man’s voice. Freezing, Molly frowned. Who was that? Was it one of the movers? Very slowly, she sat up. A young man with dark red hair was standing in the middle of her room, right in the centre of the largest spiral. Definitely

not one of the movers. He didn’t seem to be overly bothered that she was there.
Before she could demand who the hell he was and what he thought he was doing there, her mother walked in. She didn’t notice the man, in fact, she walked straight through him to place a small box on the bed.
“The rest of your books,” her mother said, smiling, “I forgot to give them to you.”
“Thanks, Mum,” Molly replied, forcing a smile. Her mother nodded and then left, walking through the man and through a second person who had just entered the room. Just great

there were ghosts

. Why did there have to be ghosts

?!
The second person was a girl who was a foot shorter than the man and had black hair. She was dressed in black leather while he wore loose white clothes that looked a little like pyjamas.
Swallowing, Molly took a book from the box and opened it, pretending not to be able to see them; she glanced over the book occasionally. She wanted to know if they friendly before she made contact.
“What’s going on?” the man asked.
Eye brow raised, the girl shook her head. “Isn’t it obvious? Some people have moved in. We couldn’t expect this place to stay empty forever.”
“This is… great!” the man yelled.
“How?” the girl asked, suspicious.
“Well… great for me. If they get rid of the bookcases, you’ll lose your spells, if they clear out the attic, you’ll lose your weapons and if they redecorate this room I’ll be free!” he cheered. There was the sound of leather hitting flesh and the man flew across the room, colliding with the wall.
“Idiot,” the girl sneered, “you think I haven’t thought of that? Every object is chronolocked along with us, they may take the shelves but the books will remain, they may move the chests but the weapons will still be here. They could burn the house down but these sigils will be here for eternity. You are never

going to leave.”
“Don’t be so mean

,” he whined, “you might

hurt my feelings.”
She snorted. “You only have two: bored and angry.”
“That’s not true!” he protested.
“Yes it is,” the girl snapped, “you either break stuff or you annoy the hell out of me.”
“Well, what about you?” he asked, “you’re going to be here with me, right?
“I will complete my duty,” she hissed, “which is to guard you for ever.” With that, she swept out of the room. He tried to follow her collided with an invisible wall.
“Damn her,” he growled, slamming his head and fists into the barrier. Suddenly he stopped. Molly immediately looked back at her book and turned the page. Panic fluttered through her stomach as she heard him cross the floor. Then her heart began pounding as he climbed onto the bed.
“Now,” he said, “I’m not sure if you can hear me, sugar, but if you can then you should know something. If you can see us, you will usually accept our existence. And if you believe us to be real, we can then touch you.” Very slowly, he stuck his head through her book. Breath catching in her throat, Molly coughed in an effort to hide her rising terror. However, the second she turned back, he immediately kissed her check. Her hand flew out, attempting to connect with his face. Almost lazily, he caught her arm and twisted it behind her back.
“Bree might be impressed,” he commented, smirking, “she’d say that to be able to act like that for more than two seconds is impressive. However-” He swung her around so that her back was pressed against the bed stead while he leaned over her, one arm across her chest, the other beside her head. “I am only happy because I have a new toy. You’ll play nice, right, sugar?”
“Get off of me,” Molly hissed, struggling to appear brave.
“Oh shut up,” he snapped, “I’m not gonna hurt you. Bree would, probably, try and kill me… again.”
“I don’t care!” Molly struggled against him. “Get the hell away from me.”
“No,” he replied shortly, “I don’t want to and you can’t make me.” Frustrated, she attempted to bring her knee up into his crotch. Suddenly, she was flying. She hit the wall with force and slid down, crying out. Around her the patterns were glowing softly. “They block out the noise,” the man told her, slipping off the bed, “sometimes my screaming gets too loud for the chronolock, so she installed a sound proofing into the sigils.”
Gasping for breath, Molly backed away into a corner. “What do you want?” she whispered.
“Let’s start with your name, sugar,” he said, strutting toward her.
“Molly,” she murmured, “You?”
“Mist,” he chirped, suddenly happy, “our names begin with the same letter, what’re the odds? ... One in twenty-six, I believe.” He crouched in front of her. “How old are you?” He stared up at her with scarlet eyes.
Scowling, she slowly stood. “I’m fifteen.”
“Fifteen, huh?” he sighed, “I can’t remember how long it’s been since I was fifteen. You should probably ask Bree, she has a better sense of time than I-” At that moment, Molly sprinted for the door. Rather surprisingly, he did nothing to stop her when she crossed the threshold. Panting, she whirled around. He was standing just inside the doorway. “You may have escaped now… but I’m not going to let you move to a different room.”
“Just watch me,” she spat, bravery flooding back now that he couldn’t touch her.
“I’ll be waiting, sugar,” he crooned mockingly, kissing the air at her. Scowling, she slammed the door in his face. For a moment, she stood there, fists clenched, then she turned and stamped down the stairs. Her mother was in the kitchen, surrounded by boxes, making a pot of tea for the men. On the table sat the girl in black who Mist had called, Bree. She was ignoring them for the moment.
“Mum!” Molly bounded up to her and hugged her around the waist.
“Hey sweetie.” Her mother smiled down at her. “Everything alright?”
“Well,” Molly said slowly, “I was wondering if I could change to a different room.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bree frown and slip off the table.
“Why?” Molly’s mother asked, “It’s a lovely room, you probably won’t need to decorate.” Bree took a step closer and reached out her hand.
“It’s just…” Molly began, “it feels like… I dunno, like there’s someone else in there. All the time.” Bree’s hand closed around her arm and her eyebrows shot up.
“Don’t be silly, sugar,” her mother said sternly. Eyes widening, Molly stared at her mother. Very faintly, Molly could see a shadow of the spiral patterns playing across her mother’s face. At the same time, her mother’s eyes flashed red. “We’re very busy. Now, why don’t you take this to the men?” She handed Molly several mugs of tea.
Frustrated and upset, Molly turned away. Bree followed her.
“Don’t worry,” Bree whispered in her ear, “I’ll sort this out.” With that she ran up the stairs.

~/.\~

About half an hour later, having helped out with shifting boxes, Molly carefully walked back up the stairs to her room. The first thing she saw was Mist. He was lying in the corner. Blood was dripping from gashes across his face, chest and legs; large bruises were blossoming across the exposed skin beneath his ripped clothes. One of his knees was up and his used it to support his arm which covered his eyes. Over by Molly’s bed was Bree. She looked perfectly fine and was apparently altering the pattern with some kind of glowing stick.
“Oh.” Bree looked up. “Hello, Molly. I got Mist to tell me exactly what happened. When your mother walked through him, he took the opportunity to place a seed in her mind. It means that he can suggest things to her. I’ve cut it off so he can’t do it again; unfortunately, it will take me a while to get the idea ‘Don’t let you change rooms’ out.”
“So…” Molly walked over to her. “What exactly are you doing?”
“I’m modifying the sigils,” she explained, “from now on, neither of us can get onto your bed, so you’re safe while you’re on it. Oh, and-” She pointed at a pattern on the bed stead. “If you press that then it blocks out all other sound in the room. So you don’t have to listen to him spouting crap all the time.” She jabbed her thumb at Mist. “Now,” she announced, straitening up, “I have work to do.” With that, she turned and left, not even glancing at Mist.
There was a moment of silence, then Mist groaned and moved. Almost immediately, Molly bounded to her bed and sat there, staring at him. Mumbling to himself, he let his arm and knee drop, then he rested his head back against the wall, eyes closed. Tears glistened on his cheeks.
“God…” he whispered, “I hate it when she does that.” After straitening up, and wincing, he then, finally, appeared to notice Molly. “Oh, hey, sugar,” he called. He attempted to stand, but slid back down, jaw clenching in pain.
“What did she do to you?” Molly stared at him. It wasn’t usual that she felt sympathy for jerks, but he was… so hurt and battered. Unwillingly, she felt herself feel sorry for him.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, chuckling, “she beat me up, tortured me, bounced ideas off me in a brainstorm to find out why you can see us and then beat me up again.”
“She tortured

you?!” Molly exclaimed, “Why?”
Raising an eyebrow, he stared at her. “Because I hurt you and used magic on your mother.” He shook his head.
“Okay,” Molly snapped, sitting up, “I’ve been dealing with this because I’ve been hoping I’m going to wake up soon. But you need to explain what the hell is going on!”
With a long and drawn out sigh of exasperation, he struggled to his feet before stumbling over to the bed. He leaned against the barrier and slid down it back to the floor.
“Okay,” he sighed, “I’ll tell you a story, I’ll try my best not to be biased. I know there’ll find a lot hard to believe but… just go with me until I’ve finished. Alright…” He cleared his throat. “ About, two thousand years ago- I said go with me!” he snapped at seeing the look on her face. “So, about two thousand years ago, there was an order of… people or ‘Mages’. These mages had powers that set them apart from normal people. They reacted in different ways. Most were quite humble, they blended in with society; they became wise people and healers. Others were more ambitious, they became kings, queens and warlords. Finally, there were a handful of the most powerful mages. There is only one word to describe what they became: Gods.” He licked his lips, eyes glazed over as his head filled with memories. “Anyway, they lived together for the most part, in a huge community. It was an island filled with so many wonders… anyway, when they weren’t addressing their duties, they were there. They were like normal people when they were home, they could laugh and talk, they could make friends, fall in love, have a family… and eventually die when they felt that their time had come.” Eyes closed, Mist had a smile on his face. “We grew up there, me and Bree, we were friends actually. She was like a little sister. When we matured, we were some of the most powerful mages. I was slightly better than her of course,” he chuckled, “she became a… knight or vigilante or whatever you want to call her. She scoured the land for evildoers and put them in their place, etcetera etcetera. I on the other hand wanted to be able to help people in a more… benevolent way. So, I became a God. It’s pretty easy when you know how. In those days anyone who can appear in a flash of light and make something from nothing was seen as a God. I was a good one as well,” he remarked, “I wasn’t all ‘raaargh, sacrifice your new born children!’ I was good and… relatively kind.” All at once, his face soured. “But then, things went bad. You know our home, the island. Well it had another name: Atlantis. I’m sure you know what happened to it.”
“It sank,” she whispered.
“Correct,” he replied, “some stuck up jerk that was too big for his boots decided that he wanted to be the ruler of all the mages. He killed every person on there. Every man, every woman and every child. There were only a handful of us who hadn’t been there. Bree and I, obviously, my older brother Loki, a guy called Merlin and a few others… Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Merlin

?” She gaped at him. “As in the

Merlin? From the legends?”
“Yup.” He nodded. “The geezer taught me how to play Senet. This was before he met Arthur.”
“And Loki?” she continued, “the Norse god?”
“You bet!” Mist grinned. “Now that guy knew how to throw a party! But, that doesn’t matter!” he snapped. “What matters is that most of the people that I loved died a horrible, drawn out and torturous death before being crushed beneath thousands of tonnes of sea water. I went a little berserk to say the least. I destroyed loads of stuff, killed people, did a bit more destroying and pretty much undid practically every good deed my people had ever done.” There was a pause before he continued. “The others weren’t sure what to do with me, they knew that I had grown too powerful to be killed by normal means… that I had become too inhuman to listen to reason. So… they did the only thing that would work.” He licked his lips. “They sent Bree… They were probably crueller than I was by making her do that. Loki opposed them but he became caught up in his own problems. So, they sent out the youngest surviving mage and set her against the only living person she cared about.” Resting his head in his hands, he took a moment to compose himself. “Well, it was an epic battle by most proportions and it left me as dead as I could be. Bree was physically and psychologically exhausted. When we both recovered, we were different. I had already been placed in here, my prison, and… something in Bree had broken. When the others came together to decide who was going to be my guard for the next couple of centuries, it was practically unanimous. Bree was going to have to remain. She felt, angry and betrayed… so she took it out on me.” He stopped. Silence.
“Wait…” Molly said slowly, “if this was two thousand years ago and Bree only had to guard you for a couple of centuries

, why is she still here?”
“That’s a complicated story,” Mist replied.
“Okay,” Molly announced, “I think I believe a bit. I mean, I’d be an idiot to just deny everything. But I have two more questions. Why can’t anyone else see you? And how come I can?”
“We’re Chronolocked,” Mist explained, “that means we’re removed from time and space. We’re not affected by anything but because of that we’re out of synch with the rest of reality… so, normal people shouldn’t be able to interact with us. As for your second question… well, between hitting me and finding out which spell hurts the most, Bree revealed that the chronolock is possibly being corroded by my magic, so anyone who hasn’t learned the ‘laws’ of reality might be able to see us. It’s also what let me cast a spell on your mother.” At that moment, Bree walked in. The pair froze and stared at her.
“Didn’t I warn you,” she hissed, staring at Mist, “Didn’t I warn you what would happen if you told her?” She strode towards him.
Mist rolled his eyes. “You expected me to comply?” he demanded, “seriously, you should know me be-” Bree’s boot collided with his face, smashing him backwards into the barrier. She reached down, picked him up by the collar and threw him across the room.
“What were you trying to do?” she spat, smacking him across the face, “get her sympathy? You’re a filthy murderer. You betrayed our friendship, you betrayed everyone

. Don’t lie to her and don’t lie to yourself

.” She kicked his stomach then jumped to stamp on his face. She didn’t give him a chance to speak, she just beat him ruthlessly. When she became tired of that, she touched her hand to one of the arms of the spiral on the wall. It glowed yellow. Mist screamed, his body contorting and thrashing. Face completely emotionless, Bree touched another part and Mist’s screams increased.
“Stop it,” Molly whispered, horrified. “Stop it!” she screamed, leaping off her bed and grabbing hold of Bree’s arm. “Please,” she begged, “just… stop.”
Bree stared down at her then sighed. “I apologise.” She smiled. “But do not worry; I am searching for a way to reverse the corrosion. Hopefully by this time tomorrow, you will no longer be in danger.” She gave Mist one last kick and then walked to the door. “I suggest you either get to your bed and sound proof it or get out of the room.” With that she left.
“Mist?” Molly whispered, crouching down in front of him. “Mist… are you ok-?” She was cut off when he grabbed her. But, this time, he made no move to hurt her, instead he simply held her. Swallowing, she tentatively stroked his hair.
“Don’t worry,” he breathed, “I’ll be okay.”
“How can she do that?” Molly demanded, “how can she treat you like that? It’s not right, it’s… inhumane.”
“I deserve it,” he replied sadly, “for what I did to her.” He wouldn’t elaborate instead he tightened his on her and rested his head against her shoulder. Lips trembling, Molly didn’t resist, she just hugged him back.

~/.\~

“So,” her mother said, when dinner was finished, “how is everyone?” Mutely, Molly grinned and gave the thumbs up. Across from her, her father launched into a long talk about all the stuff that needed doing in the house over the next week to get it sorted. However, Molly couldn’t concentrate on his words. Her eyes kept drifting upwards to the ceiling, worried about Mist. What was she going to do? There wasn’t anything that she could do to stop Bree from reversing the corrosion. But if that happened, she wouldn’t be able to help Mist.
There were still questions that needed answering: Why was Bree so angry? What had he done

to get that kind of treatment? If Bree succeeded, Molly would never get an answer.
“Alright!” her mother announced, dragging Molly from her thoughts, “I suggest we get an early night. Then we can get to work on the house tomorrow.” For once, Molly didn’t complain.
Upstairs, she changed into pyjamas in the bathroom before settling down on the floor beside Mist.
“What’s going to happen now?” she asked.
He smiled slightly. “You

are going to go to bed, I’d suggest soundproofing as well. Especially at midnight.” He stared at the floor solemnly.
“Why?” she demanded, “c’mon. Please, just tell me. If I’m going to be able help you, I need to know.”
He sighed. “When I was first imprisoned, I was… very angry. They hadn’t been able to fully constrain my magic, they still haven’t actually, so my spells still had some effect. I blamed Bree for my capture and… pretty much everything. So, my magic was directed at her full of venom and malice and anger and… basically, loads of negative emotions.” He bit his bottom lip. “Now, because of me… she suffers from Nightmares. I mean proper Nightmares, things so powerful that they torment your every sense and drive you to the brink of insanity. The only place she can sleep is… you’ll see.”
Frustrated, Molly just gave an exasperated sigh and stamped to her bed. Pulling the duvet to her chin, she stared at the ceiling. The spirals were glowing softly. “Good night,” she whispered.
“Night,” he replied.
At about midnight, Molly’s eyes snapped open. There was the sound of running footsteps. Bree. The door was closed but the black haired simply melted through it. She was clutching her head and her face was contorted. Her eyes were wide and rolling in her head. Yelling in either fear or pain, she staggered over Mist and grabbed his shoulders.
“You bastard,” she screamed, “you did this! You- argh!” She collapsed to the ground, head in her hands. “No!” she yelled swinging her arms out suddenly, “get away! I’ll kill you! Get away!” She repeatedly struck out at nonexistence beings. “Get away! Get aw- Get-”
With a sigh, Mist rose to his knees and wrapped his arms around her, placing his hands over her eyes.
“Shh,” he whispered, dragging her back, “shh.” At first she struggled against him, arms thrashing, but slowly her movements lessened and she eventually collapsed back. Humming softly, Mist cradled her, smiling down at her now clear face. “It’s okay,” he murmured, “just sleep.” He glanced up and saw Molly. “I can never leave,” he said, “because she has me trapped physically, but she can never leave because I have her trapped mentally. So… tell me, Molly, who do you think is the prisoner and who is the guard?”
It was a question that Molly could not answer. Even to this day, long after Bree had reversed the corrosion and the pair had vanished from her life, Molly could not think of a proper answer.

Author's Note

In the original draft, it was longer and contained a lot more... disturbing scenes. But, I am satisfied with this product. If you would be so kind, I would appreciate it if you could please answer the questions below and get an answer to me in either a comment or a PM.
Thank you very much.
N

1. What were your first impressions when Mist appeared?
2. What did you first think when Mist began his story? And then what did you think when he finished?
3. How did your opinions of Mist and Bree change over the course of the story?
4. What do you think of Mist

overall?
5. What do you think of Bree

overall?
6. What do you think of Molly

overall?
7. How would you answer Mist’s question?

Impressum

Texte: Memememememeeeeeeeeeememememeeeee. Me.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 03.01.2013

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