Betrayed: The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone Book Two

by Jacklyn Daher

  The crowds at the river had cleared away but bodies still walked around lost aimlessly without a purpose. Round and round, in circles they went, going neither here or there.

  “I can't deal being here, everybody is crazy," she cried out, manically slapping her cheeks.

  “You are crazy.” He widened the distance as if to prove his point.

  "Eeek," Luxor screeched and jumped up as mice scurried by and rustled twigs. She eyed the vermin until it was out of sight.

  “It’s more scared of you, then you are of it.”

  "They're filthy and sneaky."

  "Because they are forced to hide to survive because of the stigma. Would you call a homeless person who robbed and stole to survive that?" he questioned with a serious expression.

  She remained silent. "What were those boats?" she asked, interested to know what could have been so important they had to flee from.

  "Isn't it obvious? One goes to paradise to other well there's only one way down. The soldiers control this forsaken land and every day when decisions have been finalised, they track them down and take them there. They're not the brightest bunch, most people don't know about this area."

  "See those gates there?" He pointed to the gap between the trees.

  Luxor followed his finger and saw monstrous, arched wrought iron gates, and a stairway leading up to it, and was precariously positioned and held on the edge of the cliff. Rust and moss, only distinguishable by the lumpy texture, covered a great majority in all shapes and sizes, the lack of pillars holding them together. Maybe they were lost within the clouds or maybe it was the touch of the sheer will of the creator.

  A sign was inscribed on top, Gratam Nihilo Mundum. A pinch occurred at her temple as the translation was given.

  "Welcome to The World of Nothing," she whispered.

  Luxor transfixed on the gates and in a zone as if she was Superman, and could laser blow the gates apart. Purgatory was the middle ground in every sense of the word; not light nor dark, neither hot or cold, a confusing realm which couldn't make up its mind on the environment it wanted to portray. Just like Picasso, the distortion of his paintings forced a person to look outside of the box to decipher the true meaning.

  "I spend all day staring at the entrance. I don't remember much expect for the cold feel of metal against my skin as the soldiers carried me in and proceeded to send me to The Monument Tower for processing. I must have passed out numerous times as flashes of images came back in fragments, but I'm not sure what order they are in or if they'd been inserted. Like I said they want you to go insane, so you'll snap. It's like they are bating you because sending you on the boat to Tartarus is a highlight."

  “I need to leave, I can’t be dead, I’m stronger than this.”

  “What makes you so special you value your life above all?” the boy said, resignation in his tone.

  Soldiers ran at them at a rapid speed. Luxor palmed her chest, bypassing the area where the knife remained lodged.

  The boy’s eyes widened and he stumbled backwards, tripping over his rope. “They’re coming for you, they aren’t waiting.” He scrambled to his feet, and scurried away confirming his suspicion.

  “I’m going to Hell, Cane awaits me,” she said with resignation in her voice. Her knees buckled and she held onto the tree, except this time it remained solid. She slid down the trunk and leaned against her knees. She was tired, so sick and tired of having to be strong. Not only in death could she find peace.

  A flash of platinum blazed across her irises, glowing against the doom of grey. A voice called out in the distance, “Babygirl, wake up.” Luxor peered her head up at the familiar voice. A black and white silhouette blurred her vision. “Fight Luxor, fight. My beautiful girl.”

  “Mumma?”

  The woman became clearer, a gaunt vision dressed in a white, blood soaked dress. Drenched and barefooted her emancipated frame embraced Luxor. She stepped away and cusped Luxor’s cheeks. “You’re just as I dreamt you.” She kissed her forehead. “You can’t be here.”

  The soldiers were only a metre away, their hardened expressions darkening the closer they came.

  “There’s so much I want to tell you,” she choked out.

  “One day. But you have to fulfil you—”

  Two soldier grabbed Astrid and shackled her in metal chains. One around the neck, her wrists, and ankles. “Get the girl.”

  “You must fight, fight, fight,” Astrid screamed out, immobilised but still putting up a strong battle. “Grab and ask for the meeting, it will explain things.

  “Grab what? What meeting?”

  “Orion. Orion,” she cried out. The soldier clocked Astrid’s temple and she collapsed to the ground. “And remember, I’ll always be with you. I lo—”

  More soldiers had caught up, their harsh face intent on causing destruction, and enclosed around Luxor in a tight circle. But she wasn’t fearful. No, she wanted to be caught, at least then she could stay with her mother.

  A screech echoed through a tunnel, and she clasped her hands over her ears, as the suction noise pierced her eardrums. The soldiers tumbled like dominoes, no match against the pulsation which was a formable force.

  A blinding pink light illuminated the outside, coming in closer surrounding the bedroom. Aiden and Verity's screams echoed, flown out of the window and dissipating. Their evil presence no longer in existence, mere ashes against the dirt. Wings flapped around her, an all too familiar ethereal humming calming her.

  A delicate ivory face hovered over her, light and airy. Golden tresses swayed and concealed her face, except for the striking, sky blue eyes. The hand circled the area above her chest, the blood ceasing to burst out of her heart.

  Warmth. Glorious, unadulterated infusion of warmth.

  The sweet voice breathed out, "My dearest Luxor, I won't let you go."

  The pink light continued to glow, inflicted with golden sparkles. All the pain and suffering was no more, as Luxor slipped away into oblivion.

  Heavenly.

  At six am on the dot, air infused in Luxor’s lungs and she gasped, jolting her system awake. The blinding light made seeing near impossible. Disoriented, she clutched her chest, wincing at the tender spot. Her eyes frantically scanned the room, everything was just how she left it, yet a smell lingered.

  It could have been a peaceful slumber or a continuation of a wretched life.

  A fever spiked and tremors overtook her body, but couldn’t help the shivers. Pandora was by Luxor’s side, holding her close, but the comfort had the opposite effect. She struggled to breathe or arrange her thoughts in a logical order as her mind recalled the surreal moments of last night.

  How Verity and Aiden had broken into her room, tied her up and confessed about drugging Meredith. This followed by the revelation of the Facebook page, chopping off her hair and ultimately ending her life. Vague images of a grey world, and a boy with a rope lassoed around her neck also jutted out. She wasn’t entirely sure, but she was positive she had met her mother who gave her a message.

  Hair, my hair

  Luxor reached for her hair, expecting a jagged pixie cut. Except it was long; matted, but long all the same. Not believing her sanity, she swung her lungs over the bed, her toes curling on the frigid floorboards as she stumbled to the bathroom.

  "What the fuck is going on?" Luxor asked the mirror, and gripped onto the vanity. She wiped her ear lobe swiping away the crusted trickle of blood.

  She tried to gain bearings, the pounding at her temples not helping. She removed her contacts, her aqua eyes glinted and shimmered, a strange mixture with her bloodshot eyes.

  Luxor pulled out drawers, and rummaged for red lipstick. Her hands shook as she coloured in the mirror, blocking out her reflection. Red; symbolisation of blood, erasing the truth which currently stared back at her.

  The aroma strengthened in the small confines, a heady odour fogging up her mind. Luxor sniffed around, rounding the room before it dawned on her; it was coming from her. She held u
p the top and sniffed. Vodka.

  Death. A blessing or a curse?

  A flashback flickered.

  Verity and Aiden holding her head, an immense amount of vodka was forced down her throat, as she choked and struggled to breathe.

  Were they really here?

  Luxor slumped down on the toilet, and gripped her hair, trying to make sense of it all.

  Was it like my night terrors?

  "No, no, no. I'm awake, they don't last this long," she told herself. "Then what else can it be? I'm still asleep, aren't I?" She pinched her wrist. "Nope I'm awake, oh no, I'm awake, but I can't be awake, I'm alive. Am I alive?" She slapped her cheeks harder than what Verity had done, her neck cracking from the force.

  A flashback flickered in her mind.

  Every time Verity and Aiden spoke, they struck her. Harder and with greater force.

  Pandora crept up from behind, her footsteps light and nimble. “Luxor stop.” She clasped Luxor’s wrist mid-air, and spun her around. “Look at me.” She cradled her head leaving her no choice.

  "Meredith," she whispered. “They killed her.”

  “Who?”

  “Verity…and Aiden. They were here,” her voice quivered, her eyes darting around the bedroom. “I have to go to her.” She held onto the doorframe.

  “I’ll check. Come let’s get you to bed.”

  “No, I have to check.”

  Pandora held on firm, and lead her to her bed. Once she was out of sight Luxor followed her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t believe she would be told the truth, but she knew her all too well, and Pandora’s obligation was to keep her safe even if that meant in the dark to keep her out of trouble.

  Unsteady on her feet, she prompted herself to walk properly. "One step in front of the other, right left right, yes, that's how you do it."

  Talking to myself, I'm officially cray cray.

  Luxor passed Meredith’s room. The bed was made, and the room in a neat and orderly manner. She continued on and was halfway down the stairs when she heard a Meredith’s voice. A wave of relief swam over her and she crouched down on the step out of sight. She didn’t want to be seen for in her current state would be cause for alarm.

  "I'm scared for her," Meredith spoke into the phone, sitting at the kitchen table. "She isn't taking her meds? How do you know? Hmm hmm…I don't think you should have performed more blood tests without my permission."

  What is she going on about? Why is she worried?

  “I don’t care if she was under your care at the time, isn’t there protocol?” she sighed heavily, rubbing her fingers up and down her forehead. "That's not the point. No, I don't want to institutionalise her!" She banged her mug against the table. "Look I have to go, I'll talk more in-depth soon."

  "Sleep, more sleep," Luxor cajoled herself. Meredith left to go outside and she made quick work of grabbing her prescription tablets. She popped the seal of her pills, and four tumbled out. She downed two with the now cold coffee from the mug, and held the others in a closed fist.

  Pandora came bounding her way from the loungeroom, her eyes wide. “Luxor, what are you doing here? I came to tell you-”

  “Meredith is okay,” she said, dragging her feet upstairs. “They lied. They always lied.”

  “Can I put you to bed now?”

  She shook her head. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said her voice a mere whisper. Her head spun slightly and she feared the medication would have already taken effect.

  The heavy velvet curtains billowed, arms calling for her to come. She padded over to the balcony, and the frigid wind slapped against her cheeks, stinging like lashes from a leather whip. Side-stepping the sigil of Lucifer, she held her body still, to stop the shivers shooting through her veins.

  Clack, clop, clack, clop.

  Verity and Aiden stalked closer, wreaking of vodka and carrying rope. She blocked it out, her mind a series of smoke and fog. Instead she concentrated on the thumping of her heartbeat reverberated in her ears.

  The mug tumbled out of her hands, and glass shards littered the floor in every possible direction forcing her to stay put. Luxor pinched her wrist., and shut her eyes. The pill was supposed to make her happy, and control her emotions, but it had eased off all too quickly, although traces lingered. Her heart threatened to be pulled out, to disconnect from her arteries. She clutched her chest and willed the pain away.

  Should I have taken more?

  Glass sliced Luxor’s feet from all directions. She bit her lip to hold back the cries, and ran over the pieces of glass. She shivered uncontrollably, her hair over her face whilst her head was against the metal railing of the balcony. The other pills begged to be taken, her mind mentally exhausted.

  "Go away, I need sleep," she chanted over and over again.

  Luxor's name was called out from the distance, the fear exacerbated and churned her stomach. She pressed her palms heavily over her ears, to stifle the noise, but his echoes lingered, clear as glass.

  They can’t be here, they can’t be here again.

  Her head was swiped side to side, slaps stung her cheeks, a few on each side. Her body was jerked all around. "Angel, snap out of it." A different voice soothed her, the noise decreasing to a mild murmur.

  "Hunter," she slurred and dared to peek her eyes open, blinking out of her daze.

  "I'm here." He knelt beside her, his body situated at her ribs.

  "You made them go away," her hoarse voice whispered, unrecognisable to her own.

  "Who?"

  She sighed and sagged in relief, and rested her head against his chest, loosening the grip on her knees. "Verity and Aiden.”

  "Do you want to go inside?"

  Luxor’s teeth chattered, but she shook her head, wet strands of hair falling over her face. Ripples of coldness swam through her body as shivers set it. The bedroom had become her own personal nightmare, her mind conjuring up the bogey man, and of shadows who terrorised at night.

  "No, they might come back."

  “I promise they won’t.”

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  "You need me.” He moved back to give her space.

  "Typically confident. Well, I'm fine." She sniffled, wriggling on the cold concrete flooring. "I’m not your responsibility. Maybe it’s for the best if we steer clear of each other." That was the furthest thing she wanted, but in close proximity of each other they were destructive, and they weren't even together.

  "I agree." Hunter moved her hair off her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. "But not before I do this." He yanked out her fist and pried her fingers open. "What the hell is this?" he growled, holding up the two pills with one hand, and cupped her jaw to see her pupils.

  She whipped her head about to avert his gaze. "Give them back," she squealed and lunged forward, but ended up flat at his feet.

  Hunter flung his arms out, the pills flying through the air. He lifted her up and had one arm under her legs, the other supporting her back. He flew off the balcony with her in his arms, and laid her gently across the backseat of the car.

  "You had no right to do that," she snapped, only it came out whimper.

  "You would have cut your feet." He covered her legs and smoothed the blanket flat.

  "I'm talking about the pills. I want to sleep. And now I can't." She kicked the blankets off, the heat from his touch seared on her skin.

  "You'll be sleeping for an eternity if you're not careful. Where did you get it from?" he demanded.

  "None of your business. You have no idea what you just did," she spat. Again, the words didn't have the right effect, instead it was a mere whimper.

  "Saved you."

  Hunter cradled Luxor and led her upstairs into his bedroom, laying her gently on the mattress. He left the room and returned with a bowl of steamy water and two face washers. Sitting on the floor he propped her leg on his knee and removed tweezers from his pocket.

  “Don’t move,” he said sternly, and plucked at the shards of glass. Luxor flinched but o
bliged. He dipped the edged of the cloth into the water and wiped away with the utmost care. When he finished, he covered the lower half of her body with a thick doona. "Now that you're fine, I'll get going."

  "Don't go," Luxor whispered, not even sure if Hunter was still there, the only noise coming from the slight breeze.

  "What do you want from me?" his voice croaked out, his arms limp by his side.

  "I don't know." She bowed her head and wished for an answer, a logical explanation why she wanted him, and only him.

  "Okay well let me know when you figure it out," he mumbled under his breath. "Your indecisiveness is giving me whiplash. I want to get off this damn rollercoaster." His footsteps became lighter, evidence he was retreating.

  No, no, no, I want them to come back.

  "Wait. Don't go. I don't want to be alone," Luxor rasped out, inching towards off the mattress.

  Hunter faced outwards, his head against the wall, and slumped his shoulders. He sighed deep. “I should take you home.”

  “No, please don’t.”

  "Why? I can't do this anymore."

  "Do what?"

  Hunter turned to face her, his eyes downcast. "Keep my sanity while being around you. I swear maybe they should lock me up in The Renaissance Centre."

  "Then why are you always around? Why do you care what happens to me?"

  Half the time he was like a pimple she wanted to pop to make it disappear, but scared of the pain, and the scar it could leave.

  He swallowed hard, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Because I can't imagine being away from you, the thought of it is inconceivable." There was no mistaking the sincerity in his words. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand, and ruffled his hair, a tell-tale sign he was agitated. His quietness unnerved her, it wasn't in his nature.

  She was tired, petrified to close her eyes, and not getting closer to getting an answer. "Do you want me to beg?"

  "On your hands and knees?" His lips tilted to the side, not meeting his eyes.

  And he's back.

  "You know what, go away," she replied flippantly, she'd find a way to fight her demons. Figuratively speaking.