Post by Cerise on Sept 27, 2021 15:35:46 GMT -5
The car ride from Danny Starr’s mansion had been a very quiet one for the two friends. Katarina was still reeling from everything that had just taken place; watching another mother figure die in her arms –her never-ending feud with her uncle. Emmalynn, on the other hand, remained unnaturally quiet. She seemed to be in a state of shock, which put Katarina even more-so at her wits end. She knew her friend better than anyone; knew how uncomfortable silences made her feel. This was the grand canyon of silences and, in that moment, Katarina wished her friend would say something – anything – to break it. Emmalynn sat stoically in her seat, listlessly staring out the window at the expensive houses that a pair like them could only dream of living in one day. They wouldn’t be in this part of town forever, this was HIS life after all; not hers.
Katarina opened her mouth countless times on the drive but, each time she did, her voice caught in her throat. Where could she possibly begin with Emmalynn? Does she tell her the truth of just who she really was and what she could do? The Pearl Fusion Empire owned North America and was beginning its expanse into South America. Soon, no place would be safe from their lawlessness. Her father – her TRUE father – had died trying to stop them from ever coming into power. She never even got to meet him; he perished before she was even born. And her mother rarely ever mentioned him. What little she did know of him was from her brother’s stories and her mother’s journals. And that’s where they were headed now, a walk down memory lane.
“What… the hell… was that!?” Emmalynn finally snapped, breaking the uneasy hush that had fallen over them.
Katarina took her gaze off the road long enough to see her friend peering back at her. She opened her mouth to respond but, again, no words came out.
“Who are these people that are after you, Kat?” Emmalynn interrogated. “I mean… first the casino, now this. It’s like I don’t even know you are anymore!”
“There is a lot you don’t know about me, Emm…” Katarina finally managed to squeak out. “Honestly, there’s a lot I don’t even really know myself…”
“What does that even mean!?” Emmalynn screamed, the sudden change in her voice startling her friend.
Katarina searched for the answers but realized that Laura had never really truly prepared for this moment; she had always been taught to hide herself in plain sight, never to reveal her truth to anyone.
“I get it,” Katarina finally submitted. “I get that you’re scared; I’m scared too. But these people that are after me – these people that just KILLED my Mom, they have my brother. So I need to do something, I need to understand just what is happening. I need to learn who these people are; figure out a way that I can save Blaine…”
“You can’t possibly be serious,” Emmalynn scoffed, more-so out of fear than anger. “These people will KILL you, Kat!”
“My Mother – my REAL Mother – she kept journals,” Katarina continued, ignoring her friend’s outburst. “She knew things about them, things that may’ve not been useful back then but may be of extreme importance now. I promised Laura I’d never go looking for answers but…”
Katarina’s voice quivered as the tears began to trickle down her cheeks.
“Okay,” Emmalynn finally caved. “So where are we going? Where are these journals?”
“Home,” Katarina simply stated, re-shifting her focus on the road. “We’re going home.”
When the pair arrived at their destination, Emmalynn was quick to point out that they were still very much intertwined in the blue blood locale of Hartford’s finest. As she slid out of the car, her gaze immediately went to the grass that had been unkempt for years, twisting into vines around various sculptures within the yard. The few trees that were on the property had long since withered away, their branches swaying in the wind as if desperately grasping at life one last time. Emmalynn turned her gaze to the mansion itself, its blue paint splintered and exposed, resembling more like the webbing of a spider’s nest. The large window in the front had a crack that ran through its frame, a result of when Barry Morgan had thrown a vase at her mother.
“This is… home!?” Emmalynn’s mouth dropped, turning to her friend.
“This was before Laura,” Katarina explained, beginning her slow walk up the front steps.
Katarina’s fingers clenched into fists as she gripped the door knob. She didn’t expect it to open, figured it would be long since locked and the key thrown away. But she twisted her wrist anyway and, to her surprise, the door creaked open. Katarina hesitated a moment; she knew what was waiting for her on the other side.
“Geez!” Emmalynn gawked, pushing past her friend and into the mansion. “You mean to tell me that… you are THIS rich and you never thought to mention it!?”
“This used to be my Dad’s home,” Katarina retorted, taking a small step in and looking around as if she could still feel his presence. “It was all we had left after…”
“Damn Kat,” Emmalynn shook her head. “If I had a house like this, I would never leave! Why on Earth were you not living here!?”
Emmalynn seemed to stumble upon the very answer to her own question as she turned and entered into a room Katarina dared not go. She hastily ran after her, thinking she could stop her but it was too late. Still spread out before them was the rug in which Katarina’s mother had bled out. Barry had come after Katarina with a knife. Her mother had intervened. It was an “accident”. No way would someone as proper and pristine as a district attorney result to violence within in his own home. Emmalynn turned to say something but Katarina was already past her, dropping to her knees as her hand ran over the white shag fabric, the blood-stains now an ashen black.
“This was the last time I saw her,” Katarina spoke, more-so to herself. “This is where I held my mother in her arms as she died.”
The tears feel freely from her face as she tried to recall better memories, treasure the time – as limited as it had been – with her biological mother. Her gaze lifted as she surveyed the room. This, like everything else, remained unchanged. She looked over family pictures of them when they were younger; they all looked so happy, smiling – it had all been a lie. No one wanted to know what went on behind closed doors. No one wanted to believe that Barry would drink his frustrations away after losing a case, which would then result in him physically abusing those that he claimed to “love as if they were his own flesh and blood”.
“Kat,” Emmalynn placed a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m so…”
“We don’t have time for this,” Katarina stated, wiping the tears away. “Those people that are tracking me may already know I’m here. We need to find these journals and get out of here.”
Katarina rose to her feet and grabbed a hold of Emmalynn, pulling her friend out of the room and up a staircase that led to the second floor. As she went to the first room on the left, she opened it to reveal what looked to be a master bedroom. The walls were painted a deep purple, her mother’s favorite color. Katarina swallowed hard as her eyes went to the silken bathrobe that lay on the floor at the foot of the bed. Her mother had just taken a shower, had rushed out when she had heard the commotion below. If she closed her eyes tight enough, she could still smell the lilac blossom shampoo her Mother always used. She shook her head, blocking out those thoughts, as she made her way to the closet. She casually sifted through various clothing brands from Chanel to Louis Vuitton, each time doing so would draw a bit of a squeak from Emmalynn. These looks would be considered retro now, but back then… they were very stylish and exquisite. Emmalynn wanted nothing more than to reach out and feel them for herself, but she remained respectful of Katarina’s dead Mother’s wardrobe.
“So how will we know…” Emmalynn began to ask, before she saw the hidden safe in the wall reveal itself before her very eyes.
Katarina smirked as she pressed her fingers to the dial. She closed her eyes tightly and began to concentrate. In her mind’s eye, she witnessed countless attempts at opening the safe. But she only needed the one that resulted in her cracking the code. When she narrowed in on that, she was able to twist the dial and get it to pop open successfully on the first try.
“How did you…?” Emmalynn started to question.
“Lucky guess,” Katarina sniffed, avoiding the truth.
Rather than a trove of treasures hidden within, all there appeared to be was various dossiers and leather-bound journals. Reaching into the safe, Katarina snatched them up in her arms as she turned to leave. Only, in that moment, she suddenly realized that the two of them weren’t alone. Standing in the doorway, staring at the two, was a slender female figure, her short hair bleached-blonde, her eyes bloodshot.
“Who are you!?” she demanded, dark energy beginning to surge around her. “And what are you doing in MY house!?”
Present Day
Cerise’s Apartment
Cerise sat on her bed, a half-eaten bowl of mac and cheese resting next to her as her pet ocelot lay curled up in a ball beside her. He had tried to eat the remains but she had swatted him away every time he tried. He finally gave up and succumbed to slumber as Cerise continued shifting through the various files strewn before her. Her phone buzzed to life, a reminder notification of her upcoming match on Revo against Sara Pettis and Maggie Lockheart.
“I bet you think I’m upset that I lost the Remembrance Battle Royal,” Cerise spoke to the shattered mirror on the wall, its reflection twisted and torn. “But you see, this place reminds me of ‘home’; how often people overlook me – how no one seems to cast me a second glance. People don’t think I’m a threat and that’s why I outlasted the lot of you and made it to the final three. Bet you probably think that I’m ‘cuckoo-for-cocoa puffs’ with that result, but you’d be wrong. I’m not happy. I’m never happy. That was my chance to cement MY legacy once and for all, and those two bitches ruined it for me. So now I’m going to take all of that built-up anger, hurt, and frustration and unleash ALL of it onto my opponents in one magnificent maelstrom. See, Remembrance was but one way for me to pave my path to Christmas Chaos. And though that door seems to have closed, a window of opportunity has opened. As the winner and runner-up in the Remembrance battle royal, the two of you have ALL the pressure on your shoulders. But me, I’m just that little scrappy underdog that everyone will, undoubtedly, underestimate. And that suits me just fine. I’ll let the two of you beat the holy hell out of each other and then, when the time is right, I’ll emerge from the shadows and ‘steal’ the victory out from under your sanctimonious noses. This Tuesday, it’s not about who can throw the other person out of the ring. It’s about who can survive in the harshest of conditions. Triple Threat means no disqualification. No disqualification means anything goes. And for the ‘Psychotic Paradox’, that suits me just fine-and-dandy. You two are in my playground now and I’m dying to play…”
