Immortal Storm

by Heather Bserani

  She was pondering what had just happened when she heard her name. She spun around surprised to hear it in this place where clearly no one spoke English. It was like she was being called from far away and whoever was calling her was using her full name.

  “Dorianna!” The third syllable was longer than the others. The only person in the street was the old man, and she was further away from him than she thought. He called out to her again.

  “Dorianna!” The man beckoned her to come to him, but Dori’s feet were pulling her backward. She wanted to go to the man and ask how he knew her name, but couldn’t fight against whatever was forcing her backward. The man got smaller as he became a part of the horizon, but he continued to call to her.

  “Dorianna! Dorianna! Dorianna!” It was with his voice echoing in her mind that she awoke to a day that wasn’t so much about new beginnings, but tragic ends.

  Chapter Twenty

  June 6, 1598

  The heat is oppressive as we shift from spring to summer. It’s as if the doorway to Hell itself has opened up and released its too, too fiery winds upon us. Heavy it hangs upon me like a seconde skin. The winged insects sing a peculiar song at the height of the day, disturbing the slumber of all nocturnal beings. Tempers flare in myself and all those around me as we are all shorte on patience and driven to madness by the climbing mercurie.

  Night brings no respite from the temperature. Nary a breeze moves the trees. It is thus I discerned Mr. Barwicke and his newest talente. It seems with all the deathe he drank in, he has become quite the gifted opponent. As he kills, his power continues to grow and any remaining humanity has disappeared outright. Two eves ago I watched him drink from a child of barely a half and three years. The Master was not sating his hunger, merely enjoying a fine wine. I sat atop a tree and watched as the babe whimpered in his arms and then faded like a flower in the midday sun. Barwicke looked up at me and then chortled like a sick cat, breath hitching through the hole I pierced in his heart.

  I could not sit idle any longer. I jumped from my perch, fangs bared, ready to drink his blood and rid humanitie of this scourge, but as I descended, his bodie faded into a clinging mist and disappeared before my very eyes. T’were I who landed on the tinie cherub. Grabbed him I did, and swadled him to safetie in my arms, only to watch his eyes go wide and roll back in his head. He were with God. I held that child and prayed for him while the mist danced around me, licking at my hands and face.

  I swore at the Master. I uttered oaths that never before passed my lips. I cursed Barwicke to the fiery, fiery pits of Hell and promised to take him there myself. The rattling laughter that filled the nighte was his only response.

  I cradled the innocent until his skin grew cold in my arms. Then I dug his grave and buried him myselfe. I didn’t know his name, but I said a few words to the God I hoped listened to all of his sheepe, no matter how loste they had become. I pleaded with him for the wisdome I needed to overcome Barwicke. Certainly defeating my Master would please the Good Lord above, even if it were another Evil creature that caused it. I prayed until fatigue overcame me. T’was then that I retreated to my lair to rest and await the night once more.

  Chapter Twenty One

  The dream left Dori unsettled and anxious. She felt like there was some big piece of the puzzle that she was missing. It was as if the man in her dream was trying to tell her something. Questions filled her mind and the more she came up empty-handed, the more aggravated she became. All of this added to the stress of the impending battle between the clergy, Addison’s father and Percy’s coven. Dori felt as if she had been sucked into a twister. She couldn’t grasp anything solid; she was being tossed around by things that were out of her control.

  Just like any other Monday morning, Michael headed off to the gallery and then the library while she made her way to the theater. The daily routine should have provided the solidarity that she was looking for, but she felt frustrated. Her entire world was being forced upside down and yet life pushed on exactly the same as it had before. She wanted answers and she wanted action. The mundane repetition irritated and stifled her. She had tried to share her aggravation that morning with Michael, but he was ever the voice of reason.

  “We can’t rush in without more information. We aren’t really sure what we are dealing with. You don’t want to risk being discovered, or worse, defeated. We need answers.” With that he kissed her head condescendingly and left for the day.

  Obviously, Dori couldn’t talk to Addison. She couldn’t exactly open up to her friend about what lurked in the forest or her true identity. She was ever more frustrated by her situation, feeling alone despite the people around her. She scowled and her mood continued to plummet.

  Rehearsal began with the scene where Dori had missed her step. The director had chewed her out in his office, but now he was bent on calling her out in front of the rest of the company. The dancers waited on stage while the middle-aged man slowly descended the aisle and climbed the stairs to stand on the apron.

  “It seems as though the choreography may have been too complicated for some of us. We need to practice this piece until I am confident that it will be performed flawlessly in the future. We can’t be taking any chances, can we, Mrs. Corso?” He crossed his arms as he added the last part. His bald head was shiny in the glowing lights.

  The director began to slowly pace the apron as the music began. Never relaxing his posture, he frowned as he watched all of the dancers. Finally he paused in front of Dori and her partner. She continued with the choreography as the angry man watched, his lips growing more taut. She felt her own anger well up and she pushed it into her movements. As she pressed into an arabesque, she lifted her leg well above her head. Dori knew she was outperforming every other dancer on the stage and she had yet to break a sweat. The director’s mouth contracted minutely, but she caught it. What was his problem? Did he want her to falter? Here she was performing just as well as his primas and he was even more upset.

  “Cut! It appears we have a show-off here. Mrs. Corso, you are part of the corps, which means you are supposed to look the same as everyone else on stage. There is no room for someone who can’t perform as part of a team here. You will all rehearse this piece until you look like a single body dancing the assigned steps, no mistakes, and no alterations. Again!” The fire in his dark eyes nearly caused her to snap, but she sensed that was what he wanted. He was looking for a reason to fire her. She wasn’t about to give it to him.

  The rest of the day went on much the same until the cast had to break to begin prepping for the evening performance. It was clear that Dori had made no friends that day. Many of the ballerinas were quietly cursing her for the hellish rehearsal. It was just another thing to add to the list of things pissing her off. She kept to herself, resigned to do exactly as the director wanted and then get the hell out of there for the night. As she was brushing powder on her face, Addison came up behind her and wrapped her in a gentle hug.

  “It’s not your fault. The critics crucified him in the papers. He had to do it or he would have lost face with the rest of the company.”

  “I don’t know, Addison. The way he looked at me...He wanted to call me out today. He wanted me to snap.”

  “Well then, it’s good that you didn’t. You showed him what you are made of. People will respect that.”

  “Yeah, they all want to kill me now.”

  “That’s because they are exhausted. Not one of them could have dealt with him as coolly as you did. I’m proud of you.”

  “At least someone is. I don’t know how much more of that I could have taken without losing control.”

  An office worker burst into the dressing room. The short woman was toting a small bag that was overflowing with brightly-colored tissue paper. She waddled over to Addison, breathing heavily with the effort it took for her to move, and thrust the bag under her nose.

  “Here, this just came for you and I was told to deliver it. Now.” The way she said the last word made it clea
r that the woman wasn’t happy about being told what do to. Addison took the bag, muttering a quick word of thanks and the grey-haired secretary turned with a whirl of floral print and shuffled away.

  Like a three year old distracted by candy, Addison dove into the gift and tissue paper immediately fluttered through the air and littered the floor.

  “Oh! There’s a tiny box in here!” Addison squealed with delight. “The best gifts come in small packages!” More paper drifted to the floor. “Wait! There are two cards...here Dori, one’s for you.”

  Dori reached for the card in slow motion. Addison almost dropped it; her focus was turned toward what was in the bag. She pulled out her card, tore the envelope and looked at it for a split second before seizing the box and dropping the bag. In that moment, nothing else existed for Addison. All her attention was focused on opening the black leather box. She was suddenly still, a smile spreading on her face. She was enjoying the anticipation of the gift as much as the gift itself. Her fingers slowly unfastened the snap on the top of the box. Little by little, the two halves of the top were peeled back revealing a stunning pair of sparkling ruby studs. There they sat glistening in the dressing room lights like two drops of blood glaring at Dori. She licked her lips. Silence filled the dressing room.

  “Percy, you shouldn’t have!” The hair stood up on the back of Dori’s neck. “They’re beautiful!” Addison sighed with delight. She handed the card to Dori and she began fastening the earrings to her ears.

  “These stones, beautiful on their own, pale next to you. I hope you accept them as a token of my continuing affection.

  -- Always,

  Percy.”

  Dori was speechless as Addison turned her head in the mirror, admiring the way the rubies caught the light. She returned her attention to the card in her hands. In slow-motion, she turned the card over and began to peel back the flap. Addison continued to appreciate her gift as Dori tore the envelope open. The simple ivory card inside seemed very benign, but its subtle, duplicitous meaning screamed at her.

  “Those we surround ourselves with bring us joy. You are lucky to have such a devoted friend. Perhaps someday others will enjoy her too. True friends bring happiness to all and help us overcome tragedy.”

  -- Percy”

  Dori set the card on the counter and turned back to applying her stage makeup. She was suddenly pensive. The desire to lash out, which had annoyed her all day, was suddenly quelled. Percy’s card was a warning. Michael was right. They needed more information and a plan to annihilate the terror in the woods.

  “Well, don’t you like them?” Addison beamed at her reflection in the mirror.

  “Sure, they’re great.”

  “Someday I am going to have to thank this Percy face-to-face for his generosity.”

  Dori was on her feet without consciously realizing what she was doing. The need to protect her friend overpowered everything else. Her hands had an iron grip on Addison’s shoulders. She forcefully tuned the glowing blonde from her reflection and was staring deep into her eyes. Their faces were only inches apart.

  “Don’t ever say that. You don’t know who he is. Addison, he’s dangerous.” Dori’s intensity frightened her friend. They stared at each other while a heavy silence permeated the room. She could feel the eyes of the other dancers burning into her back.

  “Take your hands off of me.” Addison didn’t yell. She didn’t even raise her voice. The command came in a deep whisper that carried the weight of an irrefutable order. Dori took a deep breath and relaxed her hands. They fell slowly to her sides. Addison turned and stormed out of the dressing room, chin high, tossing her hair as she went.

  Murmurs filled the air. The other women tsked and shook their heads. The twister was back, pulling Dori in every direction. She seemed to stand in the eye of the storm while everything spun around her. She was frozen in place, afraid to move and be pulled into the ominous current threatening to overtake her. Forcing herself to slow her breathing, she finally gained enough composure to follow after Addison. As she crossed the threshold and walked down the corridor, she heard something that wasn’t meant for her ears. Her heightened senses picked up on the whispers that no human would have heard.

  “I swear she’s snapped. No telling what she’s capable of. Did you see her face just now? If looks could kill! To her friend, nonetheless! Imagine what she could do to someone she didn’t like.”

  “I think she’s jealous. No one is doting on her like that.”

  Dori left the women, clucking like chickens, and began to search for Addison. She wanted to apologize. She started at the stage, but came up empty-handed. She checked other dressing rooms, the prop room, the offices, but her friend was nowhere to be found. The stage manager’s voice crackled over the PA system as he called 15 minutes to places. Dori still had to finish her makeup and put on her costume. She hurried back to the dressing room hoping to run into Addison there. It was deserted.

  Dori finished getting ready with a few minutes to spare. There was still no sign of Addison. She swallowed her pride and began walking to the director’s office. Hopefully he knew where Addison was, but if he didn’t, he needed to call in the understudy immediately so the show could begin. As she approached the last door in the hall, she could hear voices inside.

  There was a heated discussion going on in the office: some might have called it an argument. She had a moment of relief as she recognized Addison’s voice, but her relief turned quickly to despair. They were definitely arguing. She backed into the nearest shadow and listened to what was being said.

  “But with all due respect, Mr. Haines, she meant nothing by it. She was just trying to protect me.”

  “That’s beside the point. She has no right to behave that way. She has been given more chances than I would have given anyone else. Even the most brilliant dancers must behave professionally. She will be asked to leave after tonight’s performance.”

  “Won’t you please reconsider? She is such a gifted dancer.”

  “There are many gifted dancers out there, Ms. Hadad. Don’t they deserve a shot too?”

  The PA announced a call to places and Addison scurried out of the office. She hurried past Dori, still cloaked in shadow, without noticing her. Once Addison was a safe distance down the hall, Dori emerged and stared fiercely into the eyes of Robert Haines. They both stood with their feet apart; her hands were fists at her sides while his were again crossed in defiance.

  “Mrs. Corso.”

  “Mr. Haines.”

  “Dori?” Addison wasn’t as far down the corridor as she thought.

  “Addison, go take your place. I need to tell Mr. Haines something. I’ll be right there.” Dori turned her gaze from the director to her friend. She tried to give her the most reassuring smile she could muster. Addison’s brows furrowed with confusion, but she finally conceded.

  “Okay. I’ll see you down there.”

  Dori made sure Addison was far enough away before addressing the belligerent man standing in front of her.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Robert Haines. I can handle punishment when it’s merited, but it would be a mistake to underestimate me.” Their gaze held and a muscle below his left eye started twitching. Dori’s anger burned in her chest and in the intensity of her stare. They stood there, dead-locked, waiting to see who would falter first.

  The phone in the office behind the director began to ring, shrieking through the empty hall. It rang once, twice, three times and finally forced him to break the stare in order to answer it. He picked it up without answering and returned it to its cradle immediately. He turned back toward a defiant Dori, but she was gone. She had taken advantage of the distraction to flex her muscles and all but disappear with speed.

  She didn’t slow down until she stood beside Addison in the wings. She squeezed her friend’s hand and whispered an apology as the music began and the curtain opened. Tonight there would be no mistakes and no reason for anyone to find fault with the performance. Although so ma
ny things seemed out of control to her, she was happy that despite everything, Addison’s friendship seemed to be a constant.

  After the curtain closed, she took her time getting ready to leave. She was hoping to prolong her peaceful feeling before returning to reality. She was just hanging up her costume when a large group of dancers planning to go out for a drink was leaving. Dori skirted the long group, tutu in hand, heading for the costumer when a terrified scream sliced through the theater. It wasn’t just one scream, but an endless series of screams. Heads snapped around, trying to find the source of the shrieking. It was growing louder and was soon accompanied by the rapid foot falls of someone approaching at a full run.

  One of the corps members barreled into the dancers without slowing down. She collapsed in the center of the group, which simultaneously wrapped around her to shield her from whatever was causing her fear. The slight brunette was gasping for breath and trembling from whatever caused her panic. After several seconds she finally stuttered, “He’s...he’s dead.” Dori froze costume in hand.

  “Who? Who’s dead?”

  “It’s so awful. There’s blood everywhere.” Her brown eyes spilled tears in a continuous stream.

  “Lauren! Who’s dead?”

  “Mr. Haines!”

  Dori, who had still not moved, felt her eyes open wide with shock. The man had been full of fire when she left him right before the show began. Her mind immediately jumped to the most logical explanation. Percy. He had stalked her without revealing himself before. This crime reeked of him. He had even mentioned tragedy in his card.