Acacia
★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽★☾★
Okay, so, just before you ridicule me for making a "spelling mistake", the title is meant to be that way. It's a quote from Psalms and Acacia is a plant.... Yeah, it makes sense.
Oh, and this is a "parallel" post to the one right before this one, so sorry if it's boring and repetitive... Either way, I hope you enjoy!
★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽★☾★
I despised airplanes. Honestly, the idea of a giant metal machine somehow propelling itself in the air didn’t make any sense to me. Besides, being up so high made it harder for me to breathe. I was regrettably weak in the air.
Soaring high among the clouds
Like the birds who fly so free
Yet death could be close at hand
Height that only weakens me.
We boarded the plane earlier in the morning, situating ourselves in the seats rather quickly as we awaited takeoff. I chose a seat in the back of the plane, closest to the curtain shielded hallway that led to the bathrooms and a hidden escape door. Settling on the seat closest to the aisle, I swallowed hard, refusing to even dare to peer out the window, despite the fact that we were still on the ground.
Griffin sat by himself toward the front of the plane, just as antisocial as ever. It wasn’t of any importance to me, what he did. He chose how he acted, and he had to suffer the consequences. I wouldn’t pity him.
“Is this seat taken?” Dante asked, startling me out of my thoughts. Wide-eyed, I managed to shake my head, gesturing for him to go ahead and sit. He slid past me, taking a moment to gaze out the window.
I couldn’t decide how I felt about him. I guess I never really had justice in yelling at him, but I wasn’t weak and helpless like some of the other girls. He needed to see that. And he had. He’d apologized and we’d made amends. He was interesting and confusing all at the same time. I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and I certainly wouldn’t allow anyone, especially Dante, to know that there might have been a possibility of a different emotion.
Either way, that wasn’t the time to be dwelling on my possible emotions. A group of Russians boarded the plane, taking seats all around us, their black coats identical and their attitudes suspicious. They were huge, their coats unable to conceal their muscular forms. I quickly exchanged a troubled glance with Dante, his expression identical to mine. I tried to remain inconspicuous, averting my gaze from the burly men, calming myself with deep breaths as the plane finally lifted off.
Gripping the armrest tightly as gravity was rendered unnecessary, I tried to clear my mind, not about to let Dante notice my fear. Griffin’s unwavering stare toward the largest man made my lips twitch; it was so like him to act tough that I nearly smiled despite the fluttering of my heart. Everyone in our group, excluding Akira, appeared wary, their actions nervous and restless.
I turned my head to peer at Dante once more, wondering what he thought of the situation, but that was when they attacked.
A hand latched onto my left arm, yanking me out of my seat and cause me to trip over the armrest with a gasp. Sprawling on the floor, I lifted my head, pushing myself onto my knees, and, with an angry snarl, my thorns made themselves known, the man above me seeming unfazed. It was as if he knew about my powers, and I automatically froze in fright. How could he know?
Without any emotion, he kicked out sharply, catching me in my ribs and knocking the breath from my lungs as I hunched over in pain. My forehead rested against the floor, black dots swarming in my vision. He had not shown any mercy whatsoever. What kind of a monster was he?
“Get away from her!” Dante’s voice was a growl, and, with my peripheral vision, I saw him fly into the man, tackling him to the other side of the plane and slamming his head into the wall, rendering him unconscious. Content that he had taken care of the man, I began to crawl towards the pilot’s cabin, hoping the aviator was oblivious.
I was intercepted by another of the coat-clad men, and he lifted me roughly by means of wrapping his hand around my throat. He held me up before him, barely letting my feet touch the floor. My vision swam for a moment, the slight change in altitude making my head ache, and he took the opportunity to lash out with his knife. I managed to move before he could slit my throat, but I did so sluggishly, the blade connecting with my cheek instead.
My vision cleared, and, with a glower, I punched his throat, the tiny spines on my knuckles puncturing his skin. He released his hold, allowing me to stand on my own, but, immediately, another man came at me from behind, kicking my knees out and sending me to the floor once again.
“Vous deux sont putain de crétins,” I spat, inhaling deeply. “Vous regretterez vissage avec moi.”
They didn’t understand, but I didn’t care.
Quickly, I twisted my abdomen, throwing my arms out and slicing through their pants and flesh. They growled lowly in agony, and one moved to kick me again while the other reached for my hair. I rolled my eyes, thrusting my elbows out and into their kneecaps, forcing a cry from their lips.
Griffin took it from there, to my surprise. With his wings, he knocked the two away from me, sending them crashing to the ground. I nodded my thanks, immediately crawling towards the front of the plane yet again.
Gunshots were exploding all around me, followed often by screams or cries, one awfully reptilian sounding. I didn’t know how I managed to avoid getting shot. Maybe I was lucky.
I rose to my feet slowly, leaning against the wall, as I reached the door to the front cabin, and, glancing back at the fighting going on, I hurried inside.
There was a smell I couldn’t identify as I crept along the wall, but I didn’t pay it any mind. It was oddly dark up there; I noticed that the light bulbs had been broken, their shattered glass strewn along the floor. A new feeling of dread washed over me, and I quickened my pace, amazed at how large the front cabin was.
It took a mere ten seconds to reach the front, and I couldn’t help my reaction when I saw the horror before me.
I screamed.
It was horrible and nauseating. The pilot’s throat was slit, the interior of it revealed and bloody, and his chest had been cut wide open, straight down the center. As if to ensure his death, there was a bullet hole clear through his head. There was blood everywhere, on him, on the floor, all over the windshield.
Life is but a fragile web
A single page of a book
All it takes is one mistake
One tragedy overlooked.
My comrades had to know about this. We would certainly die if they didn’t. The chances were less likely by them knowing.
“The pilot is dead!” I choked out in a shout, gently brushing some of the man’s hair away from the wound, some of his blood attaching itself to my fingers. He wasn’t attractive, really, with his balding head and crooked nose, but he had had a life, a life that had been abruptly cut short.
I valued life above everything, and these people, these monsters, had completely disregarded it. They would pay someday.
Taking a deep breath, I stumbled backwards out of the cabin and back into the gunfire, narrowly avoiding a bullet by some miracle. Unfortunately, I ran out of miracles, and another bullet pierced my leg, shredding through my vines and flesh and forcing me to fall against the wall again, shutting my eyes tightly and biting back tears.
“Okay, there’s 3 parachutes and 8 of us,” Sebastian’s voice rang through my mind, and I stopped listening immediately. Some of us would have to die. I could no longer think clearly.
When I managed to open my eyes and look up, all of the enemies were gone, and Akira was yanking open the plane door in the back of the plane, sending gusts of wind into the machine.
My eyes went wide as I realized what she was implying; she wanted us to jump. My mind went into a frenzy of panic, and I desperately clung to the wall behind me, breathing heavily. Ash and the newest addition, Aaralyn, leapt first, parachutes on their backs. How they acquired them, I was unsure.
Sebastien and Karin followed shortly after, the two of them embracing each other tightly and sharing a single chute. Even Karin was more courageous than I, and I couldn’t help but feel ashamed.
There were no more parachutes. I noticed that immediately. Akira held none, and the spots reserved for them above the seats were empty.
We were going to die.
Naturally, my mind had blissfully forgotten the two winged members of the group, but, when Dante stepped towards me, I immediately understood.
“Come on,” he instructed, outstretching his hand towards me. “It’ll be alright.” I automatically shook my head in response, my fear overwhelming me and breaching my metaphorical wall. He peered at me incredulously, lifting his eyebrows. “I promise.”
It was inevitable. Unless I wanted to die, I would have to trust him. It was one of the most difficult things I had to do, but I needed to in order to ensure my survival.
Reluctantly, I nodded with a sigh, gripping his hand and allowing myself to be pulled forward toward the open door. Akira nodded us on, motioning with her hands frantically for us to go. We had to jump.
Dante pulled me toward him in an amorous embrace so we were facing each other. My hands rested on his chest, and I struggled to hide my embarrassment as he pulled me closer by my shoulders. As he wrapped his arms around my waist, he leapt out of the plane, erasing my petty anxieties and forcing me to focus on my true fear.
Not only was I absolutely terrified of heights, but I was completely surprised by the Angel’s actions. I knew it was necessary so I wouldn’t, you know, fall to my death, but it was incredibly intimate. Too intimate.
Even so, I felt my stomach float into my throat, the descent toward Earth making me breathless, and I inadvertently burrowed my face into Dante’s chest, preventing myself from screaming or worse.
Despite the fact that we had just been ambushed, my leg and face were injured, and I had been scarred by the sight of raw murder, I felt almost safe and secure in his arms. It was a strange feeling, in all honesty. I couldn’t explain it.
I was growing weary, our rapid altitude change affecting me more than it probably should have. Our decline was beginning to slow — I assumed he had finally spread his wings to catch the wind — but it only made me feel worse. Dante shifted his grip on me as I began to grow limp, somehow flipping me around so he cradled me against his chest, and managed not to drop me.
I was grateful, for him being willing to rescue me, but I couldn’t tell him that. Not only would I never admit to such vulnerability, but I literally couldn’t; the wind was too strong.
With the alluring alabaster clouds above and Dante’s blue eyes gazing protectively down at me, my own eyes fluttered closed, pain, fear, and exhaustion taking control, and I slowly slipped into a fitful state of unconsciousness.
In the arms of an Angel
With wings as black as night
Uncertainty is present
Are true feelings brought to light?
★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽★☾★
My mind raced in my comatose state, visions of people I had never seen flashing through my thoughts. I couldn’t understand it, but it terrified me. Even so, I had no choice but to observe, allowing the images implant themselves in my mind.
“Elle s'éveille! Nous devons faire des tests rapidement,” one of the men donning a lab coat ordered briskly, taking the white-haired girl’s chin in his hand. She moaned, her neck lolling in his hold. Her eyes fluttered open, their depths immediately filled with terror. The men surrounding her only laughed.
“Non, non, s'il vous plaît,” she begged the first man who spoke as he tested a large needle against his finger. “Non pas que nouveau.” They paid her no mind, four of them moving around her to hold her extremities against the table, despite the metal bonds already containing her.
Flailing, she sobbed, desperation setting in. The syringe punctured her skin, and the wielder guided the milky liquid into her veins. She screamed in agony, thrashing as the concentration scalded her from the inside out.
“Vérifiez les moniteurs. Prenez note de tout changement,” the scientist with the needle instructed, waving them away from the trembling girl. They absconded quickly, satisfied that the girl was unable to break free from her restraints.
The girl breathed shakily, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes as she stared up at the man, the monster who had single handedly ruined her life.
“P-pourquoi fais-tu cela à moi?” she managed to choke out angrily, her body rocked with tremors. “Qu'ai-je fait pour mériter cela?” The man only chuckled once more, stroking her pale green cheek.
“Tu es né pour nous aider. Vous ferez des progrès de la science!” he cried, tugging roughly at a strand of her hair. In a softer, harsher voice, he added, “Vous ne devriez pas être sur cette planète. Vous n'êtes pas humain. Tu devrais être mort. Soyez reconnaissants que vous n'êtes pas.”
Her eyes widened, his words sinking in and sinking her heart. Laughing at her despair, the man turned his back on her, moving to speak with the others.
“Selon le scanner de cellules sanguines, il n'existe pas de globules rouges ou blancs dans son système,” one of the scientists exclaimed, gesturing to the screen. "Comment est-elle encore en vie?” Startled, the head scientist rushed to his side, examining the screen.
“Incroyable,” he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. “Elle est exactement comme une plante.”
The girl’s eyes widened. She didn’t understand and could never hope to fully understand. There was only one thing she was certain of, and she hated to admit it.
She did not belong here, with these normal, terrible people. She was some sort of deformed hybrid, of that she was fairly certain. More tears formed in her eyes, but the first man returned to her side, his eyes glinting ferally in the dim light.
“Il semble que vous n'êtes pas sans espoir, après tout. Malheureusement pour vous, cela signifie seulement plus de douleur. Mais ce n'est pas grave. Dormez bien,” he chortled, baring his teeth in a maleficent grin.
She began to protest, but he cut her off with a swift blow to the temple, knocking her head back and into the table. Whimpering in agony, her eyes rolled back into her head as she succumbed to the refuge behind her eyelids.
Laughter reigned in the darkness, reverberating through her skull, and she only wished she would never wake up to that Hell again.
★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽★☾★
“Cesser! Ne me blesse pas!” I gasped sharply, the word ricocheting off the walls, and I jolted up off the mattress, my surroundings unfamiliar. A cold shiver ran through me, and I involuntarily wrapped my arms around myself. Holding back a sob, I tried to calm myself, my breathing rapid and uncontrolled.
What was that terrible place? And why was I there? I couldn’t understand. It was strange and horrid. Those men were disgusting, whoever they were, and I couldn’t help but fear them.
My vision grew hazy once more, and, unable to fight it off, I collapsed onto the bed, curling up onto my side. With my eyes wet and my body trembling, I surrendered to the darkness, both welcoming and dreading its cold embrace.
★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽★☾★
Gah, sorry about the length and some of the crappy wording. I kind of just wanted to finish it... :3 Oh, and expect to see more “visions” coming up... ;)
By the way, Acacia woke up in Colette’s place at the end; that’s why she’s in a bed. I know that hasn’t been posted yet, but, since she was unconscious for... basically the entire flight and rendezvous of the club, I figured I’d put it in. PLEASE DON’T HATE ME. :3
