|posted on 8-Mar-2002 11:45:56 PM by ShEErAmbIVaLeNCe|
|Title: What Dreams May Come|
Rating: Will be NC-17 eventually I imagine
Summary: This is darker fic in the begininng but it will lighten up. Liz has been taken prisoner, she needs to be rescued, you'll have to read it to find out more, I don't want to give it away yet.
Author's note: Although many of you may recognize the title as a feature film a few years back, it was orginated from Shakespeare. I obviously am not Shakespeare and do not own the shakespear quote, nor do I own a good portion of these characters. Feeadback is always encouraged and always appreciated.
To be, or not to be ... that is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take up arms against a sea of troubles - and by opposing them end them?
To die... To sleep... no more...
And by a sleep to say we end the heartache, and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to..
Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished!
To die... To sleep...
To sleep? Perchance to dream!
Ay there's the rub! For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause...
- Hamlet's speech upon contemplating suicide
There are not a lot of things that I am certain about anymore.
I don't know what day it is, what year it is, or even what month it is, for that matter, let alone how long I have been here. I don't know that time actually exists anymore, it all seems to flow together into one big mass of my existence. I am almost positive, though, that I do indeed exist.
I haven't the faintest idea of where I am or how I came to be here, at this exact location in the time-space plane. I have not seen the outside of this enclosure in a very long time. I am fairly sure, however, that here is nowhere on earth. It's just this internal feeling that I have.
I cannot tell you who my captors are, why they have brought me here. I just know that I am a prisoner.
I carry no memory of ever actually being taken, but I believe that it must have happened at some point because I wasn't always here. I share memories of a lifetime that existed before this bleak abyss.
Some days I think that I am crazy, that this is my imagination. Better still, I convince myself that this is a dream, and that I will wake up shortly and be at home again.
The only reality I know of is the one that I create for myself.
How, then, can I distinguish between fantasy and reality? From what I know and don?t know?
Confidence fails me often.
One thing I will never doubt, though, that I cannot allow myself to doubt lest my existence become lost, is who I am.
I am Liz Parker.
Every morning I wake and find food has been brought to my incarceration during my slumber. It?s not really morning, though. It's just a period of time shortly following a period of time I have spent sleeping. I imagine that sometimes morning happen twice, maybe three times a day, that is, within what a day used to be to me.
The food is never anything special. Just basic nutrients for me to live by. It all tastes the same, becomes the same, is the same to me.
I haven't the slightest clue as to how it gets here or who brings it. There are no doors, to my cell, no windows, nothing. Yet every morning, there is food.
Twice, I have tried to stay away to see how this enchantment comes to be.
The first time, I simply feel asleep at my watch.
The second time, however, something unexplainable in my terms of the universe happened. I swear that I was awake the whole time, drowsy but distinctly awake. I had been awake for a very long time. I have no idea how long, just that it was long. One instant there was nothing, and the next it was just there. The food was. I suspected I was foolish, that I had slipped into sleep for just the briefest moment, unbeknownst to myself. But there are times when I am sure that I was awake and that it did just appear.
I can make no plans of escape because there is no way to escape and nowhere to escape to. But I am sickened of being here, nowhere, everywhere, anywhere. I cannot take this any longer. I am becoming more and more insane with the progression of time. Sometimes I feel as if I shall burst if I cannot go free, if I am not released, if no one will answer the endless questions of my mind.
It was at a time like that when I decided that it was time to end this madness, to liberate myself from this forlorn confinement, this desolate isolation. A time like that when I choose not to pursue any past I once had into the future. A time like that when I determined that I would exit my existence.
I simply cannot sustain myself any longer. Any morning I could awaken and not know who I am. Any moment I could doubt that I am Liz Parker. Any time now I could cease to exist anyways. When that morning, that day, or that time comes, I do not want to be.
Am I a coward?
I choose to opt out nobly in a time when I can still recall what I was previously living for. I choose to depart with dignity in an era while I can still claim my sanity.
At first I thought that I could simply starve myself to death. But the ever present temptation of food in the unlimitedly renewable resource that it came eluded me all too easily.
I thought I might hang myself on the clothing that I hadn't worn for a regrettably extensive while. The clothing that was always freshly clean every morning. Disgustingly clean.
I found the problem with this was that I simply had nowhere to hang myself from. Any piece of furniture in my room was invariably bolted to the floor or attached to a wall and the unblemished ceiling loomed far above my head.
I tried to drown myself in the ever flowing fountain, the only source of water in my captivity. Unfortunately, every time I managed to submerse my airways for more than the briefest period of time the fountain simply commence flowing. This became a great source of frustration to me.
Shortly after I begin these fanatical escapades and flirtations with death anything remotely sharp in my constriction magically disappeared by some unknown force and had been replaced with a blunt alternative product or device.
At once I fly into an enraged frenzy, heaving anything mobile, defacing all surfaces, destroying all that I can. Drained, I fall into a sobbing heap in the middle of the floor. For a very long time I lay there in the fetal position, eyes swollen shut, tears staining my dirty face.
For the first time I allowed myself to become engrossed in my world before, immersed in the innocent and naive girl I was.
I think of my family, my parents whom I love so much.
I think of my home, in Roswell, New Mexico, of the house I grew up in, of the Crashdown.
I think of Maria, how much I adore her, how much I admire her, how proud I am of who she was becoming. I thought of how influential she was on my life. I thought of all that we have been through together, good times and bad.
I think of Alex, how much I miss him, how sad I am that we won't grow old together, but how I will cherish his memory until the day I die.
I wonder if they will all miss me and grieve my disappearance as I did his. Will they be as devastated? Oh how I long for the sweet pleasure of death that Alex possesses but I cannot.
Finally I think about Max Evans. Max, my soul mate. Max, whom I passionately care for. Max, my other half. Max, my destiny.
Max, who, in being loved by him, has sent you to this prison my mind screams at me. It does not matter who my jailers are, Max was the judge that handed me this sentence.
When I finally did open my eyes to my drab world once again, I found that everything, every minor detail of the room was restore exactly to the way it was before, the way it is every time I wake, the way it is was the day I first woke here, minus any pointed objects of course.
The room is perfect. Always orderly, always precise.
The temperature, is always just right. The reason behind my lack of effort in dressing myself each morning. Even the water, given my intended use, is exactly at the optimal degree.
The furniture is flawless.
The sleeping quarters unnervingly comfortable.
Everything is clean.
Everything is white.
Since the day I arrived here until the day that I leave, everything will always be perfect. Horribly perfect.
I have never had any hope of being rescued. I will not allow myself such a weakness. For if I don't even know where I am, how can anyone else? How could they find me in this sealed compartment even if they had a faint idea? I could be millions of miles away in another galaxy or buried directly below the exact spot where they are standing.
Rescue is unachievable, escape is futile.
Life is precious, and for a good portion of mine I remember trying to preserve it. Yet, I have found that now that I wish to obliterate it, it has become simply non-disposable.
Every time I go to sleep I will that I won't wake up, but I always do.
I sleep often because my dreams are the only place that I can be free. But it's only false freedom because eventually I have to return to my body, to this nightmare I am living.
Maybe I am not living. Maybe this is hell. Maybe I'm dead.
I could never be so fortunate.
Then, one day, out of the blue, my salvation came to me in a most unexpected form.
I awakened in an unusually bad mood, as I always am to find that I have awakened. I rise to find the new food that has been left.
I stare at it all for a moment in disbelief before I am overcome with sheer joy.
The end has come.
On the table in the middle of the room lays a vast array of fresh fruits and vegetables, not an uncommon occurrence. But there, between the tomatoes and the oranges, for the first time, lays a small but reasonable helping of mushrooms.
All of my life I have been extremely allergic to any kind of mushroom. My only hope now is that this meager serving of this vulgar fungus is enough to truly finish me off.
I rush quickly to the table and speedily gobble up the horrid cuisine that could be my death.
And I wait.
And nothing happens.
Blast this damn, cursed hell and it's artificially simulated nourishment!
But it is real.
As the mushrooms ignite, I begin to convulse, and my entire body catches fire.
I burn and the world spins beneath me.
I crawl to my bed and lay there, awaiting my appending death, my sacred salvation.
Fireworks explode before my eyes, in my head, throughout my body.
I catch one last glimpse of the perfect, white ceiling above me before the world turns black.
[ edited 6 time(s), last at 24-Mar-2002 3:24:15 PM ]
|posted on 9-Mar-2002 4:35:00 PM by ShEErAmbIVaLeNCe|
I burn and the world spins beneath me.
I crawl to my bed and lay there, awaiting my appending death, my sacred salvation.
Fireworks explode before my eyes, in my head, throughout my body.
I catch one last glimpse of the perfect, white ceiling above me before the world turns black.
I've always wondered what dreams may come, after life has expired, of if in fact death is like a dream.
I've heard the stories of near-death experiences of people who were "heading towards the light" or had there entire life flash before their eyes.
I didn't see a great light, and there were no flashes.
I did however find myself in some sort of dream.
It is that day, that infamous day at the Crashdown. I know it at once.
I am me, except at the same time I am not me. I am inside myself, watching myself, but I am not myself. Or at least, I can't make myself do anything. I have to sit inside myself and let things play out the way that fate determined my destiny. It's like someone else is playing me. Someone else is Liz Parker and I'm just along for the ride.
Then it happens, all of the sudden. Even though it has happened before I am not expecting it.
The bullet rips through my tender flesh and I try to breathe. Liz Parker tries to breathe.
Darkness falls over me. I try to keep my eyes open but it is so terribly hard. Liz Parker fights to live.
Then, out of the darkness he comes. My angel, my savior. Max Evans leans over me, the brightness of the world behind him.
Max says something to me, but I cannot hear what he says. He looks worried. I only smile, for I know that the end is near.
Max Evans looks into my eyes and places a hand on my stomach where the wound has ripped me.
I feel something strange, something foreign, something non-human begin to coarse through me. My entire being tingles.
I see things, visions of things, indescribable things. Things that I have never seen before, celestial bodies, space. I see fear. I see frustration. I see hope. I see love.
I am alive. Max Evans kneels over me and I am alive. Liz Parker is alive.
I open my eyes. I am in a strange place. It is not my previous prison, but a new different prison.
But there are colors.
The walls are a pale yellow.
But They no longer produce the familiar alive hum and exuding illumination.
Light comes from above, a single globe in the center of the room.
It comes to my attention that I am alive. It seems.
My previous actions rush back to me and I am filed with hopeless despair.
The nightmare continues.
I sit up.
My body feels strange, foreign. Different.
Movement seems surreal.
How am I alive?
I felt death.
Is this a dream? A part of death?
No. I feels too real.
This cell is different. There are many things here that would have been absurd in the last.
Clothing is laid out on top of a storage unit across the room. It is real clothing. Not a white paper gown like there was in the last prison.
I get up and walk over to it.
It is a grayish jumpsuit. But it is not white. And it is real cloth. A thick cotton/spandex, except far more durable.
I pull it on and zip it up to slightly above my breasts.
I pick up a belt and thread it through the loops of the suit.
It is not an ordinary belt, I can tell immediately.
There are buttons on it. And little compartments. None of which will engage in my curiosity.
I push a button and a drawer of the storage unit pops open. Inside I find a flat slab. I press buttons to other drawers but none of them open.
I take my slab, a perfect black square shape, smooth surface, about a centimeter thick.
I take my slab over to the door. Or what I assume is a door. No handle. A passageway perchance.
I take my slab and I pound it into the cracks around the edges, producing a loud, ringing, echoing clang of the clash between my slab and the metal door.
"Stop," An omnipresent booming voice bellows through my cell at me, scaring me out of my wits. "Ms. Parker, please calmly have a seat. A Negotiator will be with you shortly."
I try to locate the source of this Big Brother of mine but I cannot. I reluctantly take a seat at the table in the center of the room. There are only two chairs, and I take the one opposite form the door.
I sit, watching the door, waiting for this "Negotiator" to make an appearance.
It is not long before, true to the word of the voice, the door open.
A middle-aged, short, stocky, balding, dark haired man enters the room. The Negotiator is a Jason Alexander look alike? Not an exact match but close.
I lean back in my seat, unfazed that this is the first other life form I have seen in God know how long. I?ve been through to much to be.
"You guys get cable out here?" I jest. "Ever seen Seinfeld? Of course, that was just network television..."
My humor hides the apprehension I won't allow myself to feel.
The Negotiator ignores my comment
"Ms. Parker," the Negotiator says with a smile, holding out a hand. "Pleased to finally meet you. I've been studying you case for quite a while."
"I bet," I mutter, shaking his hand.
"I am your Negotiator. You may me Tarenk. How are you feeling?" He asks.
"How do you expect me to feel? I was just dead. I'm confident of it. Except now for some reason I'm still alive. Ever heard of resting in peace?" I retort.
"Ms. Parker the Emperor felt it was in the best interest of the Antarian Allegiance if you remained living," Tarenk replies. "We had another body fashioned for you shortly after you died."
"I suspected that asshole Khivar was behind all this. Wait! What?! You fashioned a body? What the hell does that mean," I shout at the bald man.
I'm angry. I can't help it.
"It was imperatively within the Emperor's wishes that you be kept alive. The failure of the Department to do so was very upsetting. We had to genetically recreate your body shortly after you choose to take your life. A most unfortunate incident," the Negotiator tells me.
"What's unfortunate as that I am still here," I retort. "How does fashioning a new body work these days? I'm afraid I missed that chapter in biology."
"We took your DNA and tried to produce a clone, however these attempts were unsuccessful because of your incompatibility with Antarian atmosphere. Simulations of the Earth air structure were insufficient. Eventually we had to reconfigure your DNA, added a slight mix of our own to initiate the rebirth process. You now contain some aspects of a hybrid. Regretfully, it was the only way we could complete the project. However, you will find that your new body is far more adaptable to this planet and you no longer have to live in such an enclosed environment. You will also find that your new body is less destructible and we can and will not hesitate to quickly revive it if it becomes necessary," Tarenk explains.
I stare at the guy in shock. Eventually what he's said sinks in.
"So I'm like Max now?" I ask quietly.
"Essentially, yes but not entirely. It was a different process and a differing ends we were trying to achieve. And technology that was used on you is vastly improved. The insertion of your essence, your soul as you call it, so you will maintain the same memories was far superiorly done," He tells me proudly.
Max knows I'm dead. We were connected. He'd have felt it.
"Max knows I'm dead," I say. "Did you tell him I'm alive?"
"Zan was not told of your death. But you are correct in assuming he knew. We are not sure how the intelligence was leaked. It is under investigation. He has not been told of your life either. The Emperor wishes to save this information for an opportune time. His plans for negotiations by taking you hostage were greatly disrupted when you chose to terminate your existence. However, an upper hand has already been regained so you will be saved for a more appropriate use should a new conflict arise," Tarenk replies.
So essentially no one knows I'm alive and there are no plans to make it known. I'm one of those wait-and-see type deals. What the hell kind of plan is that? Actually not a bad one since no one will be making irritating rescue attempts, what, with there being no one to rescue.
That's great. I'm really excited for myself. Being forced to be a pawn in such a grand, elaborate plan such as this.
"I see. Exactly how long was I dead before I was brought back?" I question.
"Shortly," He answers.
"In Earth time, tell me how long I was dead," I implore, willing him to answer.
"Almost a year. Your new body had to gestate for a period of six months. We compensated for the age difference in the creation process. Your body is exactly tuned to you former self, only with a few minor improvements. Are you enjoying it?" He asks cheerfully, trying to change the subject.
"How long was I in prison before that?" I demand to know.
"A little over four years," He responds.
"So I've been missing from Earth for five years?" I ask.
"Yes. But we don't want you to think of Earth as your home anymore. Since your stay has been and will be so extended we think it is in your best interest if you accept this as your home. We would like to bestow you with privileges so that you are happier here. We would very much not like to have to revive you again or have to return you in bad shape to Zan should the need arise," Tarenk tells me.
Since when am I property.
"I'll leave you to think things over a bit and I will return at a later time. I'm sure you will have questions," Tarenk says.
He gets up and walks over to the passage.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you Liz Parker. I look forward to many meetings in the future," He smiles.
I don't hear him. I'm already lost in a world inside my head, contemplating the news that has just been laid before me.
I'm not Liz Parker. Liz Parker is dead.
[ edited 2 time(s), last at 19-Mar-2002 4:58:37 AM ]
|posted on 18-Mar-2002 5:05:29 PM by ShEErAmbIVaLeNCe|
|- Previously -|
Tarenk gets up and walks over to the passage.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you Liz Parker. I look forward to many meetings in the future," He smiles before exiting.
I don't hear him. I'm already lost in a world inside my head, contemplating the news that has just been laid before me.
I'm not Liz Parker. Liz Parker is dead.
Lizzie, little innocent Lizzie Parker. How in the world did you get yourself into this mess?
I'm dreaming. This isn't happening. I'm dreaming. I'm dead.
Maybe you are in a coma, Elizabeth, you know, maybe this is just one big dream world that your foolish mind concocted.
Liz! Liz! Wake up! Wake up!
Hahahahahahaha. Silly girl. This isn't a dream. This is your life. Your Reality.
No, it can't be. I'm Liz Parker. I'm an honor student. I, I'm a good person. This can't be my life. It just can't. I have plans. I'm going to Harvard in the fall. I'm going to study biology. This isn't me! This isn't ME!
THIS IS. This is you. This is your life. This is your fate. This is what Max Evans brought you. Misery. Death. Life.
Max? Brought this? You're right, Max Evans did bring this fate. If it weren't for him I'd be at Harvard. I'd have graduated by now. More importantly, If I'd never met Max I'd be alive.
No you fool, you'd be dead if he hadn't saved you. DEAD.
You are dead. Dead as a doornail. Your body is lying around here somewhere and Khivar has probably done a million and one things to it. YOUR BODY. This isn't even you. It's a fake. A clone. A copy. YOU ARE DEAD! At least if you had never met Max you?d be resting in peace.
NO! It can't be true. It just can't.
IT IS. Wake up and smell the coffee, Lizzie, if that's even your name anymore. You died. You killed yourself. You wussed out on life. You are dead. And now this part of you, this you that they brought back to life, this fake, tainted you is forced to live on forever as Khivar's personal pet, a bargaining chip at best in some war you had nothing to do with and has nothing to do with you. You Lizzie Parker, are a failure. You're pathetic.
I'm NOT. This isn't my fault. If I'd never met Max Evans...
You'd be dead, Elizabeth?
I'd be dead, but I'd actually be dead. I wouldn't be some ghost of myself in a biologically engineered body serving in hell.
Elizabeth, you're so ungrateful. You're ALIVE. Living. What can you do dead? Nothing.
WHAT CAN I DO ALIVE? NOTHING. I might as well be dead. I lived in hell for four years!
Now you will most certainly live in hell for eternity Elizabeth. Max Evans Might have rescued you. You should have waited; he could have been coming any day.
Waited? WAITED? You waited four years! Sheesh. Max Evans abandoned you. He left you in no man?s land for FOUR YEARS. How long were you going to give him to pull it together? Cripes. He wasn?t coming.
He loves me! He just didn't know where I was. Khivar, this is Khivar's fault. Khivar hid me away so well that Max couldn't find me. It's not Max?s fault. He loves me; he's my soul mate.
Some soul mate he turned out to be. Asshole. He left you Lizzie. Left you. He abandoned you. He never came to save you and he never would have. He's content to live out his happy insignificant little existence on Earth. He's not a leader and he never was. He's a loser. Max Evans is worthless and so are you if you can't accept the truth.
But, but, Max? I love him.
Hahahahahahaha. You LOVE him? See Lizzie, look what happens to you when you get so wrapped up in other people that you can't see yourself. You were far to busy waiting for Max to rescue you pretending you weren't waiting for him to rescue you that you forgot to save yourself. Save yourself, Lizzie. No one else is going to save you so you better just save yourself.
Save yourself, Elizabeth? How? How would you ever escape? Where would you even go? Home? To earth? Like this? A fake? A fraud? You're just as much an alien now to that planet, that home, that life as alien to you as Max's is to him, if not more so.
That is very true my dear Lizzie, very true. So why go home? You have a new life, a new chance. Make something of yourself for once. Maybe you won't even need to escape. You can't, really, and hope to survive. The universe is a big place. Power, Lizzie. Power. The universe runs on power. You need to get your hands on some of it. Forget Max Evans. Forget Liz Parker. LIVE and create yourself.
Forget Max Evans? Impossible, Elizabeth. He's still your soul mate.
Well this is his fault! He deserves to be forgotten. The good-for-nothing couldn't even rescue me. How could he sleep at night knowing that I'm out there, somewhere, kidnapped. How? He had four years to find me, to strike a deal with Khivar if he had. I died for him but now I must live for myself!
How dare you blame him Elizabeth! Khivar could have easily used your life as leverage. The only person here to blame is you! He came back from the future and warned you to stay away. Maybe his fate was to return to Antar with Tess. Maybe they could have overcome the ambush.
Tess! That murdering bitch. She has to have had some part in all of this. She probably told Khivar.... And to think I would let Max return with her after what she did to Alex!
He would have found out about her treachery soon enough my sweet Lizzie. This is a mess. Your life is a mess. You are a mess. But it doesn't have to be like this. Power, Lizzie! Power! The only way you can ever really escape is with power. Finally stand up for yourself and take some responsibility. You died, but you don't have to be dead. LIVE.
LIVE, Elizabeth. Live. Take responsibility for your actions. Stop blaming other people. Max can't help you now, anyways. Help yourself. Stop living in reminiscence of the past or you will never have a future.
Yes, I'll live. I can get through this. I can get out of here. I used to be very smart. I still am. And now I am stronger. My body is. I can feel it. I might even have alien powers. I was supposed to in my old body and it wasn't even part alien. Just so long as My mind is still strong, though, I can do this. I can get out of here. I can leave this prison behind. I just have to be clever. I just have to think. Whoever I am, I can do this.
Best of all, I don't have to worry about being Liz Parker anymore. Liz Parker is dead.
I stand up suddenly.
"I wish to speak to Khivar!" I shout at the ceiling. "I'm ready to negotiate a more reasonable solution to the terms of my existence!"
Silence hangs in the air for a few brief seconds before the door to my cell slowly opens. I hesitate, but only for a moment, before I confidently strut out the door, leaving behind my mindless prison forever.
[ edited 1 time(s), last at 19-Mar-2002 4:57:20 AM ]
|posted on 19-Mar-2002 4:43:49 AM by ShEErAmbIVaLeNCe|
|(Two Years Later)|
What exactly constitutes a more reasonable solution to my existence? Two years later I'm still not completely sure. Anything seemed more reasonable than my current circumstances and so in turn I am willing to do almost anything. Which, really, if you ask me, is a horrible state to enter into negotiations under. My mind was a jumble of thoughts and ideas. My head spun in it's own orbit. The only thing I knew was that I couldn't be confined to a horrendous cell for the rest of my life, which could end up being forever. This almost explains how I was able to take the actions I took that lead me to the path that I am standing on today.
A lot can happen in two years. Seemingly more when you aren't confined than when you are.
I glance down at the sleeping, raven-haired child whose head is in my lap. I lovingly stroke my dainty nails through his mop of curls. I gently wind one of his locks around my slender finger and release it slowly. He stirs but doesn't wake.
I sigh and think back again to that fateful day a little over two years ago when I made my first deal with the devil.
Someone came, one of Khivar's many private servants I later learned, to lead me through an endless maze of hallways before ushering me into a beautiful chamber bustling with more servants.
They bathed me and clothed me in a beautiful velvety pink gown. The dark pink sleeves were long an loose and hung just past my wrists. The chest was tight, on the other hand, as it buttoned snuggly down the back to my waist, and the neck was low, revealing the extra cleavage I had acquired with my increase in age over the past five years. Three silver circles were delicately sewn onto at the waist. The skirt flowed out loosely into beautiful swirls of all different shades of pink around the bottom, the colors lightening down the dress. Silver threaded embroidering in the swirls became apperant in the lower half of the gown upon closer inspection. Pink has never been my favorite color but until that day I had never seen a more beautiful dress, and the fabric felt heavenly against my skin.
Like the room I was standing in, the gown was gorgeous. An work of art, full of fine details masterly crafted. I was wearing pure ascetic genius and staring at the same qualities in my surroundings.
For the first time in the five years I had been captive I was given a bra and underwear, but it only felt uncomfortable after going for so long with out. I wore it still, liking the idea of returning to civilization. Plus it was a pretty sheer pink to go with the gown and fit me perfectly as the dress did.
A servant cleaned and trimmed my filthy nails and polished them with a clear enamel while another set to work on my hair. First she cut it, not too much, only a couple inches or so. I couldn't believe how long it had become. It was a waterfall of dark tresses flowing down past my waist. It hadn't been cut since they had stolen the scissors out of my first confinement when I had blown a fuse and tried to commit suicide. Heh, heh. Another servant joined the first working on my hair, quickly making tiny tight little braids intertwined with different shades of pink ribbons.
The funny thing about all the servants was that the all had complete undistinguishable faces. They all looked the same even though I knew they were different. They were all very plain, neither beautiful nor ugly, fat nor slim, short nor tall, darkly featured nor lightly, just the average people in a crowd in average clothes. The chatted back and forth to each other in a language that was not English but seemed so. I could not understand a word they were saying yet at the same time I almost did. It was frustrating because it felt like the were just speaking too quickly with poor diction, but at the same time slowly slurring their words.
I was amazed at the short work the two servant made of my long thick brown hair. The second servant, I think, pulled half my hair up in a tight knot, keeping it out of my face. I stepped into silver slippers and the servant ushered me to a large mirror.
I gasped at the sight of myself. I was stunningly beautiful. I noticed how slender I had become, with curves in all the right places. Before I had still resembled just a girl, but now, now I was a women. My face was thinner; I had lost my childish cheeks. I looked closer and noticed a shadow under my eyes. The only physical reminder left my life in the cell. Everything else had been polished away to an extreme.
Khivar must be a perfectionist, I remember myself thinking.
I smiled and the servants smiled back and clapped, making joyful, indiscernible gurgles in their accustomed tongue.
Tarenk entered the room and stared shockingly at my altered appearance.
"Good evening, Miss Parker," He had stated dazed. "You are looking very lovely. Come and I will escort you to dinner. I'll fill you in on what will happening along the way."
He took my arm in his and we walked as he gave me only minute details, such as that I would be dining with Khivar and his cronies, not the word he used. He stated that this introduction would be very important in determining my future and that I should choose my words, thoughts even, carefully.
I remember thinking that it might be hard to watch what I think. I remember him glancing at me with knowing eyes.
I thought that Tarenk was kind, that if he hadn't worked for Khivar he might have been a genuine nice guy. Tarenk gave me another odd look after that thought.
Finally, after a series of several exquisite hallways, Tarenk lead me into a dinning room. I noted first that everyone was already seated, save two spots assumingly for me and Tarenk. Secondly I noticed exactly with whom I would be dining with. I frooze dead in my tracks
The company of the table was at that moment the most disturbing sight of my entire life.
Tess cast an icy blue glace up at me. Cripes, Tess. I shivered. Next to her sat someone I swore was dead. That swine Nicholas. He was older now, about the same age as Tess and I, better looking too. Probably a regeneration of the real thing like me, I remember thinking. Across the table sat Lonnie and Rath. I didn't even want to know how that scum got there.
At the head of the table sat an extremely handsome man. I knew at once he had to be Khivar since he was the only person I failed to recognize, yet at the same time I was hesitant to believe. I remember thinking that couldn't be Khivar, that he was supposed be old, and ugly, and monstrous. Khivar was one of the most attractive men I had ever seen, I have still ever seen. His cool blue eyes captured me at once. His lighter features, his sensuously thick blond hair beckoned to me. I was instantly drawn to him despite my inner protests. His lavish navy clothing seemed black but when I had moved closer I noticed how it had served to set off his blue eyes.
Khivar chuckled and stood at once smiling handsomely.
"The renowned Miss Parker I presume," Khivar had laughed amused. "It's such a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance after hearing oh so much about you. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever ask to see me, my dear."
Strange. He had said that like the whole time I was imprisoned all I had to have done to be freed was ask to see him.
"You must be the infamous Khivar," I had stated evenly with a calculated smile. "I can say likewise of you. It's an honor to meet such an infamous tyrant. It's not every day I get to eat dinner with the Hitler of the universe. Of course, it's not every day I get to eat dinner these days, what with being so busy being dead and all. Still, quite an honor to be dinning with such , shall we say prestige, as yourself and your colleagues. I was actually beginning to wonder if you had forgotten me, you being so enveloped in your riches as you are, and dirty, little old me wearing paper gowns, living in luminescent prisons with no windows or doors. You know, the thought just crossed my mind once or twice.?
Khivar continued to grin deviously through out my careful insults.
"Miss Parker, please, have a seat," Khivar had responded, pulling out the chair of the empty spot on his left.
I sat down and he smoothly scooted in my chair for me. Tarenk nodded to Khivar and tooks the empty seat next to Nicholas, while shooting me a warning look to bite my tongue.
I realized I was about to dine with Max Evans's arch nemesis, not to mention a good number of his other malicious enemies. The gathering of them all together around one table was very unnerving for me, I remember, but I tried my best not to show it.
Directly across from me was Tess, in an exotic bright yellow-orange gown . I remember I forced myself to meet her stare.
"Tess," I nodded defiantly.
"Liz," Tess had responded flatly.
"Liz, so good to see you again," Nicholas had piped in smirking. "You clean up nice. How have you been?"
"Dead," I had said nonchalantly. "You?"
"Same here," He replied.
It's funny how people Antarians deem important for one reason or another just don't seem to stay dead for very long.
"Sos, Liz," Rath had sneered at me. "Been busy, huh? What with tryin to kill yous self alls the times yous musta worked up some appetite. For mushrooms, huh?"
"Eh," I'd shrugged. "I had a slight craving."
"Stupid, crazy bitch," Rath had laughed at me. "Yous can't die. Khivar programmed-"
"RATH," Khivar scolded then quickly masking his anger.
Lonnie had elbowed Rath.
"Sorrys boss," Rath had apologized.
"My dear Miss Parker, what the imbecile next to you was trying to communicate is simply that any future attempts at ending your life are wasteful. You are so valued to us that we have established precautionary means for reviving you at once. In the future, Rath, you will address Miss Parker with the utmost polite courtesy and you will refrain from using such poor, vulgar speech as I know I have instructed you to," Khivar dictated.
"Yeah, yeah," Rath responded.
Khivar had shot him a look.
"Yes, sir," Rath saluted, still jesting.
Khivar had shaken his head, disgusted at Rath's incompetence and sighed.
"If you don't mind my asking," I had interrupted, "what exactly am I doing here?"
"I thought Tarenk filled you in?" Khivar had asked concerned.
"Vaguely, but that's not really what I mean. I mean why am I here at dinner and not in some prison cell," I had clarified.
"Miss Parker, you said you wished to make a deal and so do we," Khivar replied smiling.
I made the big mistake of gazing into his mesmerizing eyes.
"Well what kind of deal do you have in mind for me?" I had stuttered.
"We want you to be our ally," Tess had stated.
I shifted my gaze to her quickly.
"Let's face it Liz. It does no one any good for you to be withering away in some compartment, driving yourself crazy. We don't necessarily need you, always keep this fact in mind, but you could be a very useful asset," Tess asserted.
"You expect me to betray Max?" I had questioned cautiously.
"I know you will Liz. I've read your mind. I've seen your thoughts. Max Evans abandoned you as he abandoned me. He's already engaged to someone else," Tess told me.
"NO," I had spit in disbelief.
I remember thinking that she was lying, a lying rat. Max was supposed to have been my soul mate; he was supposed to have loved me.
"YES, Liz. It's awful. I know it is. But it's true. I'm so sorry," Tess said when genuine sympathy, reaching out and taking my hand.
"I know you feel like you have no where you can go and no where you can go because we have taken your life away from you. That was truly never our intention. If it had been we would have killed you long before and on earth. We thought Max Evans would make a deal or that he would at least attempt to rescue you. It was so inhumane of us to keep you cooped up alone so long, driving yourself crazy. It just wasn?t right. Even though you couldn't breathe our atmosphere we should have at least explained things to you and not left you entirely secluded. We will never be able to repair the damage we have done but we can try," Khivar had seriously stated, his face a masterpiece of all the exact, perfect emotions.
"How?" I wondered, fighting back the urge to cry.
"By giving you your life back," Nicholas answered. "We want to set you up as an equal ally with us. You have nothing to go back to on Earth. You family and friends have mourned your loss and already forgotten you. But here, here there is so much to do and see, Liz. Earth is a shithole compared with Antar. Just try it and see, at the very least."
"He's right," Rath agreed. "Everything here is better."
"Pleasure," added Lonnie with a knowing smile, "is much, much greater."
I knew the implications of that an it's many levels.
"Max is a bastard, Liz," Tess professed to me. "Forget him and go on with your life as I have."
"Miss Parker," Khivar surmised dramatically. "We want to help you, to save you from your hell. Max Evans is not the person he lead you to believe he was. Join us, Liz. Join our alliance and we will see to it that you are taken care of forever. The universe will be at your fingertips."
That evening they fed me lies on a silver platter for dinner and I gobbled them up hungrily. What did I care, anyways, what the truth was? I was finally free of that cell and that was all that mattered. I moved from that obvious prison for my body to a trap for my mind. I thought I moved from hell, but I only entered a real hell, a more subtle, enticing one. But you know what they say; it's better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven.
I glance once again at Max's son in my lap. So young, so pure, so innocent. He doesn't belong here, with them. He's so beautiful, like I remember Max was. I shower him with the love I used to have for Max, love Tess never shows him.
I breath in the scent of the garden around me and relax against the tree behind me. Eagan yawns stretches his little body. He'll be seven soon. Seven in earth years. He opens his amber eyes and looks around. When he recognizes me he smiles his toothless grin. He?s far more human than alien. In fact, he barely has any alien in him, not having any powers and such. He?s nothing like Tess, looks nothing of her. He resembles Max more than I allow myself to admit. His face is so familiar, not like Max though. A different kind of familiar that I have yet to place.
"Auntie Liz," Eagan says sheepishly, "I falled asleep when you told me stories of your home again. I'm sorry."
"It's no problem, silly," I grin, brushing a leaf off his shirt. "I'm sorry I make you listen to my stories that bore you to sleep."
"You're silly Auntie Liz. I love your stories. Especially the ones with my daddy," He smiles.
I don't tell many stories with Max in them. In fact, I avoid the subject of him whenever possible, and not just because Tess asked me too. I don't like to talk about Max. It's a deep wound that never quite healed. Still smarts every once and a while so I try not to think about him. Ever.
"Did you know my daddy real good?" Eagan asks.
"Yes, very well," I respond with a faint smile.
"Then how come you don't tell more stories with him in them?" Eagan wonders.
"I don't know. I don't have any very interesting stories with your daddy," I tell him, not liking the interrogation's direction.
"Auntie Liz, don't you like my daddy?" Eagan questions.
"I do. Very much," I reply honestly.
"I heared you a mommy talking about him once when you didn't think I was listening. Mommy doesn't like Daddy. She said so and called him meanie names. You said you didn't like Daddy either," Eagan accuses.
"It's not that simple, Eagan. I like your daddy a whole lot, and deep down I think your mommy does too. But you and I can never tell anyone I like your daddy or I could get in trouble," I try to explain. "You are right. Some people here don't like your daddy very much, but that's not because he isn't a good person. They are just very jealous of him. They want to be strong and powerful, but your daddy is stronger and more powerful so they are afraid."
"Even Uncle Khivar?" Eagan asks wide eyed.
"Even Uncle Khivar, but don't tell anyone, okay? It's our secret," I respond. "And don't ask anyone else about your daddy. They might get angry and turn into meanies. People don't like to talk about your daddy to you because they don't want anyone to see that they are really jealous and afraid."
"I won't talk to anyone about daddy but you, Auntie Liz. I cross my heart," Eagan promises.
"Come here, you," I say pulling him into a hug. "I love you, Eagan. I loved your daddy too."
"I love you too, Auntie Liz, alot," Eagan says cuddling close to me. "My daddy must have loved you too. You are really nice. The most nicest person I know. And you are really pretty. Even prettier than Mommy."
"Don't tell your mommy that," I chuckle.
Eagan plays with my long brown hair in this small hands.
"Sometimes I wish you were my mommy, Auntie Liz," Eagan admits.
My heart breaks.
"Oh, Eagan, your mommy loves you. It's just very hard for her to show love. Her life hasn't been very easy," I tell him rubbing his back.
He pulls out of our embrace.
"Yeah," Eagan says. "I guess so. Sometimes I don't think she likes me very much, though."
"Well I always like you," I smile. "You are such a good boy that your mommy must too."
I tickle him and he squirms away giggling.
"Let's go inside and get washed up for supper," I tell him. "It'll be ready soon."
"Okay," Eagan agrees.
We walk hand and hand through the luscious flora of the palace garden. Some of the plants are wildly exotic, acquired from the nearby planets that Khivar has practically assimilated.
Eagen leaves me inside the palace door to go wash up. I hesitate on going clean up myself, and instead find myself wandering across the terrace overlooking the garden. A gentle breeze blows across the land. The sun, or the star equivalent there of, setting on the horizon paints the sky ablaze in pinks. The triple moons hang above me in the dusking sky. I think of the dress I wore on my first Antarian dinner outside a cell. I hadn't know then that it was a depiction of an Antarian sunset. A beautiful dress that still could never do the real thing justice.
Another day spent, wasted. The prison I live in now is still a prison. I am still confined. This time by my own greed. By power. True, I could never leave even if I wanted to with the Khivar's miniscule tracking device implanted somewhere in my body, but still. I had nowhere I would go anyways. Besides that, I would never leave Eagan.
A ship roars across the sky into the horizon and I watch is disappear. I know nothing about ships, flying them. Well, very little. I have been trying to learn, coaxing lessons out of Khivar's pilots, pretending it's a cheap thrill for me. Flying lessons for me make Khivar uneasy. I can tell. But I work my magic on him and he consents.
They think I have no powers. They think that they died with my body. They tell me that even though I have alien DNA, I don't have any powers. I believed them for a quite a while. Until I realized they were wrong. I never told them though. I practice my powers only when I am sure I am alone. I can stop them from reading my mind now and can tell when they are doing it. It comes in very handy, actually. I make a video tape of boring neutral thoughts and program it to play over and over on top of my stonewall so that they think they can still read my mind and that I am very fickle. This conveniently frees me up to think whatever I please without their knowledge. Quite nifty.
An arm snakes around my waist from behind, startling me.
"Sorry, my pet, I thought you heard me," He says.
"No, I didn't. I was lost in my thoughts," I explain.
"Of beautiful sunsets, I know. And that sexy pink dress I just love you in," He murmurs into my ear.
I lean back into him, closing my eyes, inhaling his unmistakable, musky scent. He nibbles on my ear, his arms pulling me closer. I feel his hardness against me.
"My pet, you are soooo delicious. I can't get enough of you. You're simply intoxicating. I've never met a female who made me feel like this before, that I have been so addicted to," He tells me, his voice growing husky.
"Isn't that why you are marrying me?" I smile.
"Yessss," he hisses licking my neck. "That and you will make one hell of a queen."
"Tess makes one hell of a queen as it is. Don't you think she will be angry at being dethroned when we tell her?" I ask coyly.
I slide my hand behind my back and into my lovers pants, softly grasping his manhood. He groans.
"Tess most certainly will be pissed, but she knew there would come a day when I would take a true queen as my bride. She needn't worry, the little rat will still reign. Not like that gives her any power anyways, just claim to it. When we have a child, I'll see to it that it's a daughter and we can arrange one awesome wedding establishing power once and for all in our family," He grunts.
I will never have his child. I will never bring a child into this hellish struggle of power for his political purposes. He doesn't know that I can control my body so well, that I stopped myself from releasing eggs as soon as he became my lover.
"That sounds a little incestuous if you ask me," I purr, stroking him harder.
"I'm fine with it. They'd only be cousin's, my dear. I suspect Tess is my half sister, at that. And she's a hybrid. So is Max Evans," He moans.
My eyes burst open and I freeze at the mention of Max. I quickly shield my thoughts but he catches a flash. He laughs.
"I saw that. Max Evans holding your hand. How very quaint. Max has never been a man of action, my pet, and he never will be. If I had been him I would have ravished you at any chance I got, the fool,? he chuckles. "Now you belong to me, and he'll never get the chance."
"We were still very young," I try to explain.
"He has that Sanathian princess of his to ravish now," He goes on. "She's a real beauty. But not as beautiful as you, and not as good in bed either. I'm still skeptical as to when he's actually going to marry her. They've been engaged for years. He needs the power behind her throne, that much is clear, so why doesn't he just get it over with. He's a fool, I tell you.?
"Maybe he isn't in love with her," I mumble.
"Why? Because he's still in love with you?" He snorts. "I'm counting on it, my pet. When he handed over his claim to this kingdom for possession of your dead body, I knew he was a fool, better yet, a fool in love."
I withdraw my hand and pull away from him, gazing out onto the landscape once more.
"You never told me that," I say quietly. "The deal you made to get him to forfeit the throne.You were always very vague."
"What? That he felt guilty for abandoning you and wanted to give you a proper burial, and in order to do so I made him relinquish his contention as king? Only a minor insignificant detail, my dear. Not worth mentioning. Happened so long ago, anyways. Besides, what's the problem? I know you don't still have feelings for him," He responds.
"No, I don't have feelings for him," I agree. "But I don't think we should persecute him either, mess with his mind."
"My dearest, beloved pet, he most certainly will find out you are alive after we are wed. I don't want to hide you away forever, anyways. I want to show the universe you are mine, that you belong to me. I'd especially like Isabel to see just exactly what she gave up, as well as Max, of course. Anyways, no matter how many treaties he signs, Max Evans will never cede over Antar and he will never give up his son. He wants to take that snot away badly. The only reason he hasn't attempted yet is because I convinced him that the brat can't breathe other atmospheres, not that that kind of thing can't easily be fixed, but what Max Evans doesn't know can't hurt him,? He grins deviously.
I pull farther away thinking of the years I spent locked away because, "Antar's atmosphere wasn't suitable for me to breathe."
"Don't worry, love. I know how you are fond of him, I'll make sure he stays safe," He assures me, running a hand through my long dark hair.
At first I stiffen, thinking he means Max, and then I realize he is talking about Eagan.
"Thank you," I say smiling as sincerely as I can.
I meet his embrace and he kisses me deeply, passionately, hungrily. At last I pull away.
"I have to go change for dinner," I tell him smiling seductively.
"Yes," He agrees, before giving me one last, quick kiss.
I stumble off towards to palace door. Only once I reach it do I glance back at my future husband, at Khivar.
|posted on 22-Mar-2002 1:46:28 AM by ShEErAmbIVaLeNCe|
|NOTICE TO ALL READERS:|
I will be putting forth one more part of this on this board for certain, updates pending response, and it most likely will appear under my other user name of Allie1031. If I should end up ceasing to post on this board, the continuation of this fic will be appearing on the Boardello, thanks to my good friend out there in the cyberworld, hipntrendy, but if you would like to recieve the continuation of the fic by email, I suppose that may be arranged as well. I felt this fic might be controvesial even if I could get people to read it when I first posted because of the psycological aspects and the whole Khivar dilema. I fell as though I might have commited fanfic suicide with that move, Khivar and Liz. I forget I am in dreamerland, and though I myself am a dreamer, I cannot limit myself by the bouadaries of this land itself. Unfortunately I am not an author who choses to package happily ever after as some of you who beg for immediate Liz and Max action may find with Normal. I do not write to appease others so much as to fulfill myself and given my current life situation, this is a suitable outlet. It is only by chance that my work appears here and not any other board since it is by chance that I discovered this. Not that I don't love the television show, but I could write anywhere and be happy. I assure you Max and Liz will end up together, but the road of life is bumpy as are the paths of my characters. In the end, the victory seems sweeter if it was achieved through sweat. Salvation will come to my characters through toil and suffering. I like What's So Great About Normal, it's fun to write, but I am starting to like this more. The complexity is more flowing. And it's more serious than me just venting over oddities in my life. However, I do find that their are a lot of complexities in Normal that I think might be missed. Me likie rattlebox's comments. He still around? Good 'ole Mike, can always count on him to pick up on things. In any case, I can promise you that in both fics things are not always as they seem, and there will be some big twists coming. One big differnece between this and Normal is that I have a much clearer vision of where this is going, where as normal seems to flow more from my hands while I am writing with the exception of major plot lines. I have absolutely no objection to discontinuing posting this story here, it save me effort and will in no way effect(affect? who can keep those straight, that was probably that one reading question I missed on the ACTS) the future posting of Normal. Rapunzel, my only fan, you are very dear to me. I thank you for your open mind girl. Anywhoo, too much seriousness around here for me, I best get going. The new Normal part is coming tomorrow and for this tomorrow or the following day if I can.
|posted on 24-Mar-2002 3:20:44 PM by ShEErAmbIVaLeNCe|
|New chapter's under the name Allie1031|