collaborative story :)

[Wabbit]

Ambiguous



It was a hot night.

It was hot sticky dream stale night. A steaming, filthy, fly infested, windless night. A night of broken dreams and wings and things. A night of uncaring stars. A night of lost dogs, dreams, pennies and kisses. A night for flight. A night for fight. A night for violence. A night to sit and sweat, stir, stare and stew. A calm restless night. A night to waste away wishing wistless wishes. A night for nice lovely bottles of gleaming beer. A night for ice cubes. A night for horror and hurt. A night for snapped tempers. A night for ice cold showers. A night for cold packs. A night for frantic fucking. A night for a million things, a million dreams, a million stories, but not a night for sleeping.

Amber, wide awake, lay naked on the naked bed. Sleep was far away. A distant shore in the sticky soup of the night. Outside, beyond the window, lay the slumbering city streets. Sometimes the velvet silence in the obsidian night would be broken by the screech of tyres. plaintive cries of a baby or maybe a metallic sireen's scream. Amber turned her head towards the glow of the alarm clock digits. The red L.C.D display like a setting sun in the darkness of the room. The numbers told her it was 2 in the morning.

"Shit... I'm too old to be awake at 2.am." Amber whispered into the hot darkness. "50 years of age, and where did those years go?" She asked the silent night the question. As always, the night never replied to her night time voiced questions. With another sigh, she eased her body from the bed and padded into the kitchen. Half way into the kitchen, came the sound. Loud. Heavy. Thumping. Banging.

A knocking. A frantic knocking at her door. Amber froze with thoughts tumbling though her mind. Thoughts crashing and burning in her soul.

What the hell?
Knocking?
At this time?
A killer?
Somebody needing help?
A rapist?
A child?
A man?
A woman?
What the hell?
What the hell?
Now?
Why?
Me?

As the last of the thoughts tumbled the knocking... stopped.

Hands, shaking slightly, she smoothed back her long black hair. Amber walked slowly towards the bed to pull on her clothing. Heart pounding. Skin tingling. Come on, shit dammit, she told herself silently. Pull yourself together woman! Who are you, to be afraid of the night? Amber pulled on her blue jeans and white shirt, she kept an eye on the untelling wooden door. The door gave no awnsers. Doors never do. They can only lead or pose questions. They never ever tell.

Amber gulped down the hot air and started walking towards the door with a soft steady pace. Slowly, she moved though the heat thick room towards the door. The door that still lay silent. Grave silent. Silent as a dead bird. Silent as silance. Dust silent. Disturbing silent.

Finally, reaching the door, she pressed one ear to the wood. Amber listened. She could hear her breathing too loud in her own ears. It was a rushing wooshing sound. From beyond the door there was only silence. She listened and listened. As she listened, she turned, from time to time, to watch those ghost red minutes ghost past. Silence, only silence.

BANG.

Amber jumped back with a cry of panic. Animal crouched on the floor with wide wild eyes. Now her breathing like a waterfall. Her heart punching her ribs, faster and faster.

"shit!"
"****!"
"who the hell?" She shouted. "WHO THE HELL???"

Then, came the voice from beyond the door.

 

[Ashlea]

“You know me,” it said. He said. “Let me in.”

Did she hear that right? Did she hallucinate it, that voice? Did she dream it, that familiar voice that she couldn’t recognize, couldn’t place?

“I know you’re there, angel. Open the door.” The voice’s seductive baritone purr was so different from the harsh banging that pulled her out of bed and into clothes. It confused her, and though her heartbeat hadn’t slowed, it now rushed for reasons other than pure fear. After all, it wasn’t a night for lying alone in bed.

“Have we met before?” she asked, surprised that her voice didn’t crack and break. She stood, slowly, trying to make no sound, sliding up, using the wall for support.

“You know me.” He was insistent, intense.

“That’s not what I asked,” she countered. “Have we met?”

 

[Carlos]

A knowing chuckle was her answer.

"Please who are you?" she begged. Was she really awake or simply living a nightmare in that strange reality between sleep and wakefulness?

"You remember me!" his voice becoming more insistent “You were there, at the lake with your Father. Well Amber, now is the time to collect what is owed.”

Hot sweat froze on her body as she involuntarily drew breath; it couldn’t be, that was so long ago. How could he have found her after so long, had they sent him, or was he working alone? She had to hide, no escape, get away and start again. Her eyes darted around the room, only to return to the one exit of her 17th floor apartment.

Reality finally arrived as her hand crept towards the lock, 24 years of running had ended and it was time to pay the debt. Amber threw back the bolt, now resigned to her fate that had been behind her for so long, almost relieved.

As she opened the door the knowing chuckle was repeated. Amber quietly answered with a thin smile and a glint of steel in her eye.

At last!

 

[hobitten]

He was tall. She had forgotten how tall. He was very thin, almost emaciated. All those years in prison had not been kind to him. He looked worn, scruffy and had a very strange look in his eyes. Almost as if he knew, what was going to happen. He couldn’t know! Unless… ?

Amber stepped aside and let him in. He walked passed her and straight into her living room. He went to the window, and drew the curtains. Then he turned around.

Amber hadn’t moved. She was still holding the door. It was as if everything was frozen inside her. How had he been able to find her? She had been so careful. She had moved to a new city, taken a new identity, changed her name, job, everything!

Part of her was absolutely terrified. What would he do to her? Another part was excited, thrilled and relieved. Her body remembered that summer by the lake. The price had be high for the brief moment of joy she had experienced. Maybe too high. Something was telling her, that she was about to pay even higher price now.

“Hello Amber. It’s Amber, these days, isn’t it?”.

Amber closed the front door, took a deep breath, turned around and said – with more defiance than she felt: “What do you want?”

He sat down, stretching both his arms out along the back of the couch. He looked very confident. He knew, he would get what he wanted. “I told you. I am here to collect what is owed to me.”

“I owe you nothing.” Amber wasn’t going to give in to him so soon. She strided over to the window, and drew back the curtains again. If something was to happen to her, she wanted her neighbours to know about it. She figured that more than one poor soul would be awake in this hot, humid night.

“You owe me 20 years. I went to prison for you, remember? Or should I say, for your father."

 

[liv]

A flood of memories came rushing back, despite her carefully crafted barrier.

Amber had been a young, naïve 26-year-old, fresh out of college, celebrating her recent move upstate. She was finally away from her childhood town, where she thought she’d be stuck forever. Amber had tried so hard to get everything right, to make everything work as she had always dreamed it would. She picked up a job at a local law firm as a paralegal, and had started to settle in. As part of an effort to assimilate herself with the company, she had invited a few people from the office up to her family’s richly furnished cabin, which was next to an attractive lake.




That had been her first mistake…


​

 

[Martin]

His dark, looming voice pulled her back into reality. Now was not the time to think back to times when things were still all happiness. On the contrary, now was the time to pay for all that happiness.

"Well .. what'll it be?" he asked. "You do remember the two choices you have, don't you?" His voice sounded oh so familiar, but at the same time so very, very threatening.

"Don't you?"

She didn't, she honestly didn't. What had been the deal, back then? She racked her mind, thought back to that time at the lake, but all she remembered was the laughter, the friendly people, the good food, the fantastic weather, but no deal, no pact. She had met this man, she remembered that much, and she remembered something gone awry, something she had to run away from, but that's the point where her memory fails her. What went wrong?

"You don't," he then said, in a softer voice. His face lost something of its hardness.

"I'll tell you, then."

 

[Stewart]

Pacing the floor, yet still managing to keep himself between Amber and the door, he held up his left hand and uncurled a muddy finger. “One, you can call the police. They’ll arrive, arrest me, and having nothing to convict with so I’ll be turfed out and, by consequence, I’ll be back at your door.”

The lime telephone on the wall, it seemed, begged to be used. Dial, it screamed, dial! Observing her gaze, the visitor stopped his fervent pacing, reached behind the handset, and pulled repeatedly on its cable until the thin flex gave out and the small plug fell to the floor.

Amber backed against the wall, looking both left and right for anything – a weapon, an exit. Nothing readily presented itself.

“Two,” he growled, another finger rising, “you can finish the business from Lake Sullen.”

“What business?”

“The guys you killed,” he snarled. “You and your little entourage.”

Amber gasped. Something stirred in the bowels of her mind. A sliver of memory repressed for years was now unbound and rapidly getting used to the light. “What about them?”

“It was a slow death you left some to but, by the grace of God, one pulled through.”

Amber, her memories now unleashed, looked at her visitor. It wasn’t any of them, after all, this guy before her. He was too young to be one of the guys they’d killed all those years ago. Different hair colour, too. Yet something about him, maybe his eyes, seemed familiar. “Who are you?”

He ignored her question and replied with one of his own: “So, Amber, what’s it to be? Call the police or finish the business from the lake?” He continued to repeat the question, awaiting an answer.

In her panic, she realised just how futile the first option would be. The phone line was severed and any attempt to scream would have this guy’s hands clamped round her throat in an instant. Obviously she was left with little choice but to finish the business from Lake Sullen all those years ago when she and her friends took the lives – or attempted it now seemed – of a group fishing on the bank of the muddy waters.

Early autumn days, she recalled, when Kidd, Chase, Robert, and herself used the gun they’d found in the cabin to make light of the day. And when they fell into the murk their blood was carried on the ripples, spreading out across the water. It was as if the water was imitating the heavens, swirling those blushing waves, the way the sky above bled coquelicot as a distant mountain tore the heart from a passing cloud.

“Let’s finish it,” she muttered. “Whatever it is.”

“Good idea. Now follow me.” A smug grin curled his grubby face.

 

[phil_t]

The man turned and strode for the door. Amber looked desperately around for anything that could help her to escape, but it was too late for that now. All she could do was grab her cell phone from where she had left it by the bed and slip it quickly into her pocket.

"Are you coming?" sneered the man over his shoulder.

She still couldnt place him. She studied his body, the way he moved across her apartment, and knew that there was something wholly familiar about it that she just couldnt place. Another one of this nights many mysteries it seemed.

She trailed him out of the door, and followed meekly through the apartment block to the dark street outside. Shadows curled in the moonlight and the looming buildings seemed to close in on her. She felt her breath caught in her chest, and she must have made some small noise, because the man turned around to stare at her.

"Scared?" he snarled. "Well with good reason considering where we're going." He gestured to a car parked against the curb. "Now get in, we've a few errands to run before we can get to the lake".

Amber opened the door as the man unlocked the car, the handle feeling cold and uncaring in her grasp. Inside, it smelt of stale cigarettes, which immediately reminded her of her own cravings.

"You got a cigarette?" she asked the sinister man.

He seemed surprised by the question, but dug a packet out of his jacket and flicked one out, offering it to her. Once she had it, he flicked a lighter out of nowhere and lit it for her. Taking a deep draw on the cigarette, Amber lent back into the chilled leather seat and waited to see where the man would take her.

The car pulled out from the curb and the man gave her a glance, a smile half-formed on his lips. "If you're wondering where were going, i suppose i can tell you know, we're off to see an old friend..."

 

[piedro]

Amber chose not to reply. In fact,words failed her. She was sweating profusely by now, and the night had a very small part to play in that.

She stole a quick glance at him. He had a faint smile on his lips and was whistling softly.That sweet tune, "Come September" wasnt it? She remembered watching that film with her father. He had bought her a new teddy that very day. Nostalgia brought some relief to those sunken eyes. Such memories were rare now,cocaine and cigarretes having completely taken toll on her body,once so beautiful. A slightly out of tune Jake interrupted those reminiscences.

Jake??
Jake!
JAKE!!
It was Jake!
Only one man on Earth sang that tune in that wrong way

She turned sharply towards him. He was still smiling but she noticed an odd blank look in his eyes. The look of a man who had nothing to lose,but nothing to gain.20 years in jail isnt a short time after all,to ruin a soul.

"Jake?" Amber whispered softly.

He stopped humming. For a second,he looked as if he didnt recognise his own name. He turned slowly to face her and looked straight in her eyes.
"So we have remembered have we?" he gave a small bark of a laugh "good, but this isnt the only thing you will remember tonight"

"Look Jake,i dont remember what happened that day" her voice was pleading, almost hysterical "it wasnt my fault! Robert!! He had brought snuff. We didnt know what we were doing!"

"Ah! dear old Robert" Jake flicked a cigarette in his mouth "I came across this article in the news recently. Strange things seem to happen in big cities."

He searched in his tattered coat.He extracted a clipping of a news article and gave it to her.
She unfolded the paper.
"..Kidman Robert,age 48,found dead in his apartment with head in a gas oven,suicide suspected.."
She turned back to Jake with an expression of absolute terror.

He was again humming softly.

 

[RaVeN]

But fear was an old friend. Amber inhaled a deep breath of smoke and said "Jake, I've just remembered something."
"What's that babe?"
"Cigarettes will fuckin kill ya."
Amber stomped her foot over his on top of the excellarator and shoved her cigarette as deep in to his eye socket as her shaking hand would allow.

Jake's scream was just the wake up call she needed. As he brought his hands to his face, Amber jerked on the steering wheel and directed their car into a light post at the intersection.

They were both stunned but the pain was no match for the panic. Amber bolted from the wreckage with one thought on her mind....Father!

As she ran her first steps she was too driven to look over her shoulder but heard Jake cry out "this is just the beginning angel."

Angel. She was always proud of who she was. Between gulps of breath Amber looked for a sign from the night's sky. "Suppose it's a little late to ask for my wings back now, huh Father?"

Her only answer was the blood staining the pocket of her white shirt and flowing over the tattoo of a cross between her aging breasts.

 

[Wabbit]

Amber ran those shadow haunted night streets. She ran hard and fast. Her lungs on fire. Her heart thundering and fit to burst. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She just ran. Ran to get away from Jake. IF only, she thought bleakly, if only I could run so easy from the past. She slowed to a halt and stood amid the grim filth and desolation. She was lost. She scanned the streets. Jake was nowhere to be seen. At least now she felt more like her self. Ramming the ciggarette into Jake's eye had been the wake up call she needed. No more hiding. No more running. **** no. Time to fight.

Then it happened. There are only a few that would even notice. Some of those few would be called mad men. Those that would label those grinning mumbling manic individuals would be right in the prognosis of most cases. A handful more would hold certain knowledge that would have them teetering on the brink of insanity. A few more would know just because of who they were, Amber was one of them. There was a stillness to the air. The world has a heart beat. There are those that can hear it. The heart had now stopped beating. It could mean one and only one thing.

In a moment the world about her was gone. It was replaced by a cold whiteness. Within the whiteness was a form. It was a dream of a shape. A requiem in space and time. The voice that issued had the timber of a 1000 slumbering stars and it said, "Did you think we did not know?" Dreadful silence. "Did you think that they would not notice? For they will not stop. Jake prowls in the dark for you. He sniffs for your soul. He lusts for you. he loves you. He will tear out your eyes and mock the sky with that love. He will rip you apart. He WILL find you. Others join him even now. They feather float and join the hunt. Your only chance is to finish what you started... You must kill the child."

Amber wanted to scream **** YOU at the top of her lungs. Spit and curse and claw at the whiteness but she knew it would do her no good. So all she said is, finally, "I know."

The whiteness spoke. "Good, now hit the ground running and swift, for Jake and the other Angels are HUNTING you."

It was all gone. She was once again alone in the hot sticky night.

Heaven's host hunted her.

 

[Ashlea]

Amber blindly ran, past fences and front doors and the sleeping, oblivious people behind them. She gave no attention to her destination, as she knew that her actions now were so important, so inevitable, that her feet would take her where she needed to be. While she ran, she sorted out which memories were needed, and shoved the rest back into the darkness that had held them for so long. The lake, all those unfortunate and innocent dead, that she disregarded, to be dealt with if and when she had the time. Perhaps, in her dying moments, she would consider her actions and ask for forgiveness for whatever wrong she found in them. Jake, the child, those memories were for now. Perhaps there was enough instruction in them to take her to the end.

Did Jake know of the child, the inhuman result of the mating between Heaven’s executioner and a fallen angel? He was not omniscient, but those who were perhaps had told him. Perhaps that was why he had insisted on the lake. He thought the child, if that was indeed the proper name for such a creature, was there.

She stopped running, leaning forward with her hands on her locked knees, panting and shivering in the hot, humid night. She usually gave no thought to her age, but moments like this reminded her of it. She pushed away the anger at her imperfect body, for she had chosen this, had given up changeless immortality, her power and her wings, for this existence with a beginning and an end.

She was almost there, and as far as she could tell, alone and unfollowed. So, she straightened and continued at a slower pace for the remaining few blocks until she saw it, the crypt she had chosen to hold the only child she would ever have.

It was a forgotten family graveyard, but large enough that it would be too much trouble to clear and move. Cemeteries, she realized on that long ago night, were the only thing unchanging in human cities. So she had found this one, carefully cleared the beautiful, simple crypt of its moldy dead, and sealed the child from its dangerous and unpredictable fate.

The stone door sealing the front was heavier than she remembered, but she managed to pull it free at last, and entered the cool darkness. There it lay, on a bier intended for a full adult coffin. She carefully swept the dust and cobwebs from its face and examined it carefully. It looked the same, like a wax effigy of a sleeping newborn, strangely sexless. Even at the moment of its birth, Heaven had whispered for its death; she had known instinctively that mother’s milk would awaken it to its fate, but was too fearful to decide. So, now, she must kill it, for her now drooping breasts would be of no use now. Yet even as she thought it, she realized that her breasts were fuller, nearly swollen. As she pressed gently against her right nipple, a single drop of milk fell and slid down the cross tattoo.

 

[Carlos]

What was happening? She had made the decision all those years ago in that lustful moment of passion which set her on this course and expelled her from Heaven, a fallen angel. Oh such a price to pay, this mortality which had aged and ravaged her.

Amber looked down at the corpse, the edges of her mouth rose into a leer as she thought back to that night when the pact was made, definitely not a virgin birth. Oh what a night that had been, she had been caught up in the hysteria, all four of them, reveling in their new power as angels, but taking it too far, unto death, not themselves but the mortals they were assigned to watch and protect. All four of them had been cast down, after that. Robert, always the weakest had chosen the easy option. A sleeping death in an oven, a coward’s way out.

What of the other two? Three witnesses to the debauched act were present. According to Jake, one was dead. She had to find the others, one must still be alive. Her destiny was calling her, with each passing minute its yell was drawing her nearer, as her body remembered it’s youth. Yes it was all becoming clearer. Jake! Such a feeble man, a derisory laugh left her mouth, as she thought back to his pleading that night as she toyed with him, tortured him, used him in the summoning of The Executioner of Heaven. That was it Jake must have scurried away while she was blinded with ecstasy as the demonic seed was planted within her.

How ironic. Jake took the fall for the other deaths, 20 years in jail. Such a high price to pay for a mortal. Yet even more ironic Heaven had sent him as her judge jury and executioner! After all Amber was his guardian Angel.

Amber turned back to her child, yes she could acknowledge that now, in fact she basked in the knowledge. However now was not the time, her milk would awaken her child but first she had to find Kidd or Chase, at least one was required.

Quickly Amber left the crypt closing the heavy stone door with surprising ease. Let Jake and his hoard come after her, but first contact Kidd or Chase. She pulled her mobile from her pocket and began dialing, would either of them still be there after all these years,

 

[piedro]

The phone rang and rang and rang. "Pick it up, Chase" Amber screamed at the top of her voice. The ringing didnt stop. Amber gave it a try one more time but to no avail. Hesitantly, Amber dialed Kidd's number. Why was she so apprehensive in calling up Kidd? His unscrupulous decisiveness was just what she wanted at the moment. Or was it? Wasn't it his idea to start playing with those mortals? and one thing had led to another..
The phone rang for ages. Just when she was about to give hope a wary voice muttered "hello?"

Relief! Unmitigated Enormous relief! Never before had Amber wanted to talk to someone so badly!
And she had found Kidd, imagine after twenty years!

"Kidd" she said almost tearfully.
There was a sharp intake of breath.
"Wrong number."
"Wait Kidd wait!! dont disconnect! Its me, Samara!"
There was a long pause. Finally, a disbelieving voice managed to utter "Samara?"
"Well, actually, it's Amber these days." Amber gave a short derisive laugh. "And i would prefer if you called me that"
"Samara! after all these years." Kidd was still incredulous, " How?? Where are you? What's the matter? Are .. are you alright? why did you call me?"
Amber interrupted the barrage of questions" Kidd, I need your help. Jake was here! He wants something from us .. all of us"
"Who's Jake?"

Briefly, Amber recounted the incidents of the entire night. Kidd heard it all with a stunned silence.
"You actually assaulted him?" he said with admiration.
"Yeah well .. I had to. But Kidd .. I think we are in big trouble. We have to meet. I think jake's hoard will come for you too."
"Okay," said Kidd after a moment's thought, "meet me at the New York national library tomorrow at 5 pm"
"Alright," said Amber swiftly. "And what about Chase? I have been trying his number since ages but nobody is picking up."
"I'll try contacting him, too. I have his residence address somewhere. And what about.." the voice tailed off.
"Kidd?"
"I think there's someone at the door" he replied.
"Kidd! Be Careful! Are you alone?" Amber shouted into the handset.

The line went dead.

 

[RaVeN]

Kidd never was good at paying his phone bill on time. How could he know it would come back to bite him on the ass?

Before he opened the door, Kidd put his good eye to the peephole. Then it dawned on him that he didn't have a good eye,... or a peephole.
"Wish I had paid the light bill on time" he mumbled from the good side of his mouth. At least he thought he had a good side of his mouth. Brushing his teeth in the dark had taken it's toll over the years.

"Who's there?" a voice regurgitated from his porch.
Kidd went with the flow.
"Wait, let me find a match" replied Kidd.
Striking the fire, Kidd caught his reflection in the chandelier and fought to hold his water. (It took both hands to light the match, so he placed his Marge Simpson Special Edition mug between his knees.) Seeing eight images of himself at once was more than enough to remind Kidd of his idenity. Twice more on a good day.

"It's Kidd" replied Kidd, proud of his timely response. "And what's it to ya?", even prouder of his snappy comeback.
"I work for the telephone company" croaked the voice on the other side. "And I've come to bite you on the ass."

Kidd droped Marge and burnt his fingers on the match at the same exact instant. Timing was one thing Kidd never lacked. That, and the ability to tell fresh fruit by three squeezes or less.

"How do I know you're realy the phone man?" Kidd said.
"How do I know you're realy Kidd?" belched the voice in return. Then he belched some more. "Do you have two forms of identification, at least one of them a photo I.D.?"
"No, but I admire the hang time on that belch" Kidd said.
A bubbling voice replied "Is that the best you can do?"
"I'm working on a thin budget" Kidd answered.
"Can you afford the third season DVD of Xenia, Warrior Princess?" a frothy voice said.
"Not yet" was Kidd's reply
"Okay, that's thin. Open zee door" the voice vomited.

Kidd fumbled for his knob. A smile passed his lips. "I've no time for this" Kidd thought. "I'd better answer the door instead."

Kidd opened the door and thought he'd seen another reflection. If not for the moat accumulating in his dimpled chin, the man could pass for his twin brother. And with good reason.

"Chase?. Is that you?" he squeeled, skipping on to the porch.
"Kidd? Is that you?" he spewed as he hopped into Kidd's open arms.
"Step inside while I find another match" Kidd said, and gently lowered his sibling.
Chase took a step inside and fliped a light switch near the front door. As light instantly flooded the room, Kidd remembered that he didn't forget to remember to pay the light bill. It was included in his rent. He just forgot to remember.

"Same old Chase" Kidd thought to himself. "Always showing off."
"Same old Kidd" Chase thought to himself. "Only one swing on his playground....sweet chandelier though."

Kidd asked "Are you handy with anything other than lights? My phone seems to be acting up."
"Sure thing" Chase snickered. "Just the other day I helped Robert with his gas oven."