by Azzurra Nox
In the distance, Jon thought that the sky was covered with black clouds, but as the car came closer around the bend he noticed that it was a tight knit murder of crows. It was strange to see the birds fly so late at night, especially in a group. Usually at this hour they were sleeping and did most of their flying during the day. The birds were directed inland, and with his windows down he could hear the echo of their cawing. A signal of their desperate call for all those that had departed, and wished to be reunited. It was a silly thought, but it comforted him nonetheless. Somewhere in the world, a part of him was still lingering with a need to be brought together in the way that only those who share the same egg and features could ever comprehend.
Chapter Three
Poverty was something that Hope had always been used to. She hadn’t known any other life before it. Her new life with Sydney was still strange, being able to sleep in a bed and have a closet full of her own clothes. In the mornings she’d still wake up with the notion that she’d see her grandmother and they’d both have their typical breakfast of cold oatmeal seated in the back of the 1967 Cadillac Eldorado. At times her grandmother would tell her tales of growing up in a mountain village in Romania. How she was a Roma, a nomadic ethnic group that traveled in caravans or campers across Europe. She talked about the life in the Roma camps and how she missed the tents and having a community to aid her. Hope often asked her why she never went back to Romania if she missed it so much, and that’s when her grandmother would get quiet and her eyes glassed in sorrow.
“I can’t. I wouldn’t know where to find them anymore,” she stated.
By them, Hope knew that she meant the Roma community she had belonged to as a child. It was sometime before her teens that she was taken away to an orphanage where she was later adopted out to a family in America. Hope didn’t know much about Gram Ginnie’s life when she arrived to America. It was something she never readily shared with her, and she never pushed her to. Instead, she allowed her grandmother to reminisce about her life in Romania. The dancing around the bonfire at night, whilst the men in the community played the violin in a maddened tune that many villagers nearby would describe it as “The Devil’s Song,” for it’s fast beat and unconventional cord sounds.
She was standing in front of her closet picking out the first thing that came to her. A white button down shirt and a pair of jeans. Hope wasn’t used to having so many choices, and when she went shopping with Sydney she wasn’t even sure what to choose, or what would be her style. To be safe, she bought shirts that were similar to the ones she wore for school. Maybe once she got used to being able to select clothes on her own, she could begin to focus on what she liked.
Images of Gram Ginnie’s funeral came into her mind. There hadn’t been much of a funeral. With no money, she had been placed in a mass grave with other unfortunate indigents of Los Angeles. Hope wished she could’ve done something about it, but there was nothing she could do. Her grandmother was nothing but a number in a city that crawled with many in her same condition. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she quickly got dressed and began to throw things into a black bag. Carefully cut mirrors were placed inside with bottles and vandal root. Nothing was going to keep her away from Griffith Park that night.
Once everything was ready, she closed the bag shut, and headed out. Living in Malibu was different than living in the city of Los Angeles. The major difference was the lack of buses. She’d have to get a license soon, or else she’d have to rely on Sydney’s driver to take her everywhere. Hope wasn’t used to being waited on, and having people doing things for her, so it made her feel too dependent. All those years of living with her grandmother had taught her to not rely anyone for anything.
There was a slight wind that came up from the ocean. It was cold, and Hope had wished she had brought a jacket along with her because the chill felt like a toddler’s picky fingers slithering beneath her garments and infiltrating to her bones. Of all the nights for Jon to be late, tonight shouldn’t have been the one. A few cars passed by, then one was heading towards her, its headlights blazing blank into her eyes, like roadkill she was immobilized.
“You need a ride?” Connor yelled out of his window, as she was walking along the bike lane, not too far from Sydney’s mansion.
“It’s okay, I’ll find one!”
“Where? With a stranger? That’s dangerous. Come on, hop in,” he told her, slowing down the hearse so that the passenger door was on her side.
“Alright,” she said, getting in. The hair on her arms always rose anytime she got into the hearse. There was something sinister about being in that kind of ride when still alive. Hope often wondered how Connor got his midnight blue hair to stay up in such a manner, one portion falling across his forehead. The black liner around his eyes made him look like a distraught Panda, or one of those 90’s Gothic rock stars.
“Where are you headed to at this hour?”
“Griffith Park.”
“What are you doing there?”
“You’re asking too many questions for my liking.”
Connor chuckled and shook his head. “Alrighty, nevermind then,” he leaned over to open the glove compartment, grabbing a CD. Focusing back on the street, she watched him slip the CD into the player. Industrial rock music blared from the speakers, making it hard for Hope to think clearly in that pandemonium din. She rolled the window down, allowing the wind to caress her forehead as they drove on.
Without noticing, Hope was wringing her hands in nervousness. There was a part of her that was apprehensive for how events would play out. Not to mention that she had always had a bit of a fear towards heights, and the fact that she would have to stand on the letter H of Hollywood made her feel a little queasy. She closed her eyes and tried to relax by taking deep breaths.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see Connor giving her an unconvinced look, but didn’t say anything. The fog was beginning to creep in from the Pacific Ocean. The car turned towards the Pacific Coast Highway, she saw the black waters stretched below the rocks. It looked like the black liquid could easily swallow them whole if the fog didn’t devour them before. Hope hadn’t realized how far Malibu was from Griffith Park, probably because she had always lived nearby to the park and never ventured too far from the inner city of Los Angeles.
Despite the loud music blaring throughout the car, she managed to fall asleep. Maybe it had been the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing below or the cotton grip of the fog that seemed both menacing and willowy, but soon Hope had fallen in a restless slumber. Dark images, like being cloaked by a black cape filled her psychosis. In the midst of the pitch coal scenario were two glowing red eyes. Hope took a step back, frightened but knowing full well who they belonged to. Many times she had had the same eyes visit her in her dreams, and the low sultry voice that whispered, “You can’t do anything to save them. They’re all doomed. Stop now, before it’s too late.”
“I don’t care. I’m coming after you, Adriel. Even if I die trying.”
“Such a noble spirit, I’m going to love breaking you.”
“Never,” she glared.
Alabaster hands reached out for her, stealthily snaking them around her neck. Hope wanted to move, but she found that her feet were cemented to the ground. The darkness swallowing and keeping her immobile like quicksand. She coughed as the airflow became skim with each passing second.
“I can take you out even now. My power is great.”
Hope tried to move her arms, but found that they too, were rendered lifeless by the heaviness of the dark. Adriel’s lips curled into a diabolic smirk, her nails digging into Hope’s neck, puncturing the soft skin. The pain shot through her entire body like being injected by poison and the venom burning holes in her veins.
“HOPE! STOP! WAKE UP!”
A hard shove jerked her out of her dream. Paranoid, her hands quickly went to her throat feeling for any signs of puncture wounds, but foun
d none. Her neck was soft and smooth. Choking out a few gasps, she looked over at Connor who had a distressed look in his eyes.
“What happened?”
“It looked like you were choking!”
“I just had a nightmare,” she quivered shakily. “Are we getting there?”
“Another five minutes, I didn’t realize Griffith Park was so inland. I never come around these parts.”
“How long have you been driving for?”
“About an hour.”
“Oh, okay.”
Midnight was approaching. All her natural survival instincts screamed alarms to back out. She was still in time to not follow through. But regardless of her gut feeling, her heart pushed her forwards. Never before had she ever felt so certain about something as she was right now. Hope wanted to confront Adriel. Connor’s hearse eased towards the entrance of Griffith Park. She knew that she had to get out and walk the trail on her own, but not even that thought stopped her. Her mind was made. Tonight would be a decisive night. Either Adriel would be defeated, or Hope would fall.
Chapter Four
“What do you mean she wasn’t there?!”
“I passed by Sydney’s and Hope wasn’t there. Maybe she’s already at Griffith Park.”
“How did she get there if you were supposed to take her?”
“I don’t know, Lena! Just calm down and let me drive,” Jon swerved around a curve. “There was traffic so I was late.”
“You should’ve left before, so you wouldn’t have been!”
“When I left there would’ve been plenty of time! How could I predict that they would’ve closed the freeway?”
“That’s why you should’ve taken the PCH.”
“Just shut it. Okay? She’s probably there already, and we’re going to be there in fifteen minutes.”
“What if we get there too late? Haven’t you thought of that?”
Jon’s knuckles turned white from angrily gripping the steering wheel. Lena’s disapproval for his mistake was only making him nervous, and he took another sharp turn sliding over to the next lane. A frightened yelp came from Lena’s side of the car, but he ignored it as he maneuvered the Mercedes Benz back to the right lane, trying to keep focused. It had been quite unfortunate for him to be late at the appointment. He too, was worried for Hope’s safety. He didn’t openly suggest it because he didn’t want Lena to get more paranoid and shook up than she already was. Lena and him were meant to be Hope’s barriers, without them there to protect her, who was going to?
“What’s he doing here?” Jon muttered surprised as he drove up to park the car to recognize Connor’s hearse parked up ahead near the park’s entrance.
Lena opened the passenger door before Jon had a chance to stop the car, and he quickly braked, skidding a bit.
“What’s your problem?! Couldn’t you wait till the car was stopped?”
“I need to go see if she’s already up there on the sign. I’m scared for her.” Lena’s voice shook as she looked up at the HOLLYWOOD sign that was barely visible with the incoming fog. She began to walk towards the entrance, the usual hiker’s trail taken by many people every day who wished to explore the park.
Jon was quick in parking. He got out, running after Lena who was ahead of him by a couple of feet. “Wait up!” rushing towards her. Her blonde hair looked like that of a willowy wraith, becoming one with the mist that was quickly surrounding them. When he caught up with her, he grabbed her hand.
“It’s hard to see in this fog.”
“I know. But we’re not that far away from reaching the sign,” he said, as the sign slowly loomed into view. Squinting his eyes, he made out a figure standing upright on the letter H of HOLLYWOOD. “Damn! She’s already up there,” he yanked at Lena’s hand, and started to run towards the sign. Their feet crumpled leaves, making their presence noticed. The sounds of crows cawing filled the night.
Hope looked thinner than usual standing on the letter. Her black hair flowing with the wind. Eyes cast in a faraway look, lips moving as though she were chanting something they couldn’t make out from that distance below.
“Hope! Hope! Careful!” Lena shouted.
Jon looked up and saw that Hope’s body was leaning over the edge. He stepped closer towards the base of the letter H, and came into contact with something on the ground, hitting his foot against it. With a glance down, he noticed a black bag on the ground. The contents were spilled, pieces of mirror, the same shards of glass that were adorning Hope’s neck and the circle around the base of the letter H. Jon grabbed one of the mirrors, and handed one over to Lena. White candles adorned the base of the letter H, their flame flickering every now and then.
“Here, these will protect us if Adriel shows up.”
Lena took the sharp glass pieces and placed them in her pocket. Jon wasn’t sure if they were still effective that way.
“Where’s your pendant?” he asked her, not seeing the tear drop shaped mirror she had on for awhile now.
Touching herself, she bit her lip, “I don’t know. I must’ve dropped it somewhere. Maybe we can look for it.”
But he knew that they were running out of time. Milly’s glass pendant that she had given to him was still around his neck. He touched it with a nostalgic caress, then unlocked the chain walking up to Lena with a serious look on his face. “Take this instead,” he fastened the pendant around her neck.
“What about you?”
“I’ll be okay. I fought off Adriel once, I can do it again.”
“I’m going up there.”
“You can’t! It’s dangerous! And the plan was for us to be here at the base to act as protectors.”
“That’s rubbish, I’m not leaving her up there alone,” Lena told him, placing one foot on the ladder showing him her intention to go up and join Hope on the letter H.
“You’re crazy! This is suicide!” he grabbed her arm, trying to pry her away from the ladder. She struggled against him, when a voice intruded, “Can someone tell me what’s going on?”
“Connor?” Jon peered into the mist recognizing his voice.
“Hope’s been blabbering up there for over thirty minutes. I can’t tell whether she wants to jump or not.”
“Stay out of this, Connor. It’s better if you leave. It’s not safe for you to stay here.”
“Say you? You’re not my keeper Jonathan. And what are you doing here with Lena? Does Sydney know about this?”
“Connor, it’s not what it looks like. I’m begging you, please leave. Things are going to get ugly.”
“I’m not budging from this spot,” walking towards them.
Distracted by Connor’s intervention, Jon hadn’t seen that Lena was already halfway up the ladder.
“Dammit! Lena! Come back down!” Turning to Connor, frustrated, “Just leave!”
But Connor wasn’t moving from his spot. The sky was unusually dark. During the summer, it was normal for the skies in southern California to be a shade of deep violet at night. The northern lights reaching them, allowing the night to never truly be as pitch black as it was everywhere else. Crows’ wings flapped violently, some cawed loudly, circling the sky above.
Jon saw that Lena had already reached Hope up on top. Fear sunk deep into his bones, he didn’t like seeing her up so high with the hills right below her. If she fell she could break her neck, and every other bone in her body. An overwhelming scent of gardenia filled the air. He tried to ignore it as he gripped the ladder and began to climb.
“What are you guys doing?”
“I can’t explain, just go home!” he yelled down to Connor whose face was a puzzle of confusion.
With each step up, the ladder seemed to get narrower and narrower, or maybe it was only Jon’s impression. There was no wind down below, but now his hair was being blown off of his forehead and back. With squinted eyes, he tried to keep the two girls in his focal point, too afraid that something was going to happen any second.
“Welcome, Jonny. I was waiting for
you,” a husky, sensual voice stroked his ear. He turned around so fast that he almost lost his grip on the ladder. No one was in sight. Chills ran up and down his spine. He hurried, pushing himself up faster.
“You can’t save them, Jonny,” the voice taunted, he watched his fingers coming loose from the ladder.
“NO!” he instantly took hold of the ladder, continuing his mission upwards.
The sound of large flapping wings were heard above them.
“She’s here!” Jon shouted up to Hope and Lena.
“Where?”Lena sounded terrified. Both girls looked small and incapable of battling against someone the size and power of Adriel.
He climbed up the final step, and walked out on the platform of the letter H. The wind was atrocious at that height, and he wondered how two waifs like Hope and Lena hadn’t already been blown off.
“She’s up above!” he whispered, although he wasn’t sure why he did, since Adriel could probably pick up on any sound, whether it was high or low.
Hope was lighting up candles, but as soon as she did, the wind would blow them out.
“Blast!” Lena wailed, “They’re being blown out! This isn’t going to work without them, right?” looking at Hope for some signs of confirmation or denial.
“Quiet!” Hope’s voice was stern, not her usual apologetic tone. She had a handful of glass wrapped with white ribbon clutched in her hand as she screamed out, “I cast you away from harming anyone!”
Now Adriel came into view, her large wings flapping wildly. Arms outstretched, Jon noticed something peculiar. The hand Michael had sliced off during the last showdown, had been replaced by another bearing a dandelion tattoo on its wrist. Connor was still below, shouting up at them, but Jon couldn’t make out what he was saying between the wind and the sound of Adriel’s violent wings.