Random Nickolaus 45b-9
Fausille licked white frosting off her fingertips, her sinful black eyes were half closed and glowng as pale pink roses disentagrated on her tongue.
The wedding cake was half gone, the ivory fondant was splattered with scarlet… I swallowed and averted my face as Fausille swept another pink rose off the cake and lapped at it.
Lazy. Somnambulant. Cat-like.
I despised her almost as much as I feared her.
Her white linen pants suit was spotless as was the wide satin sash that tied at her throat like a silken rose. Her inky hair was pulled up in a dramatic chignon, highlighted by a silvery white spray of baby’s breath.
She looked angelic and demon possessed all at once.
Surrounded at all sides by the bodies of the dead celebrants.
The bride was a mess of inner organs and crystal-blue colored crepe and her wedding party was nothing more than ribbons, bows, blood and gore.
Blood dripped from tissue paper bells that hung from the ceiling, it slid down the walls in runnels, blood pooled at my feet. It was cooling slowly, it was clotting thickly.
The groom howled in agony, on his knees in the razed fete, his black tux slowly turning a darker shade of purple as it soaked up the fluids on the now scarred and pitted dance floor.
His golden hair was plastered to the side of his face and tears tracked through the mess… for a moment I could only see him as a weeping clown.
I turned away.
Fausille’s eyes met mine, gone was the half sleeping, glutted, prideful, maliciously beautiful innattention. She was utterly and completely focused upon me.
I wet my lips and was instantly reminded that I was covered with cold blood. I had been standing too close to the door when Fausille had entered the dance hall. I’d been masqurading as a joyful member of the guest list, waiting… expecting…
Fausille had entered like a goddess reigning.
There is something in the human psyche that remembers being hunted. Fausille brings those memories to the fore, she does so effortlessly. There’s something in her eyes that warns you, there’s something in her movement that admonishes you. ‘Run,’ it says ‘run and I promise it won’t hurt as bad.’
She’d cut through the party like a wolf through spring lambs.
I’d found Fausille through word of mouth, I’d hired her to do just this… I’d paid for her and wreck havoc upon the bride for stealing the love of a man that I’d adored since childhood.
I’d had bloody musings for this valentine wedding. I’d pretended and play acted for the year leading up to this day. I was to be the maid-of-honor, the best friend of the glowing beautiful woman that had made a fool of me, who’d beaten me.
She’d married Nickolaus, she’d won his heart, she’d pay.
Now, though, with Fausille pinning me with her empty black eyes I didn’t feel triumphant. I felt fear. It coiled up from my belly and loins and snaked around my heart and throat.
“WHY!?” screamed Nickolaus suddenly, he surged to his feet and sprang at Fausille. “Why Fausille? Why!?”
The black haired woman never looked away from me, she kept her eyes upon mine as she answered him. I couldn’t make out the words at first… all I heard was a low, sudden, throbbing buzzing. I stared at Fausille instead of looking at Nickolaus.
I had no idea they knew each other.
I had no idea that the beast I’d hired knew the man who held my heart in his hands.
“I was hired,” Fausille said, her voice holding tinges of amusement. One black brow arched up and her full red lips quirked at the corners as Nickolaus howled again, his head tossed back and agony twisting his mouth.
“NO!” he screamed, almost crumpling again. “Limmere… Limmere promised me… he said he’d allow me this! HE PROMISED ME!”
Nickolaus’ voice cracked and I looked at him. He was staring up at Fausille through his half blood mask, one lavender and sage eye was all I could see through the caking blood and matting hair.
Sanity sounded far and away at the moment as he held his bloody hands up to Fausille, as if he were begging her to give back the lives she’d violently pilfered.
“Limmere didn’t send me.” Fausille said, almost laughing at this point as she cocked her head, her eyes never wavering. I could feel her stare like heavy coals against my skin.
“He…he didn’t?” asked Nickolaus, voice wavering and cracking…like a frightened child questioning comfort.
“No. He did not.”
Slowly Nickolaus looked at me, it was as if his neck was on faulty ball bearings. It was like watching stop motion animation. I expected his neck to creak like rusted gears.
Fausille giggled.
Strangely childish.
Visciously devilish.
“Oh, darling Nikki,” she said, her voice was lilting and joyous. “Our little girl here loves you!” she made the words mocking and painful, I took a step backwards as I turned to look at Fausille, this wasn’t what we’d agreed upon! She promised not to tell who’d paid to have the bride murdered!
Fausille winked as if we were sharing the largest secret ever. “Oh, I’ll never tell…” Fausille told me, sotto-voce. I looked back at Nickolaus, backing away again slowly shaking my head and wincing as cold clotted blood slapped me in the face.
Nickolaus’ eyes had lost thier woe and bitter agony.
His eyes were empty, his stance had gone from pleading to slightly hunched and as I watched his lip pulled back from white teeth… teeth that had gone gleaming and suddenly sharp.
A low growl strummed the air and my throat closed, I couldn’t scream… I couldn’t even gasp as Nickolaus shifted his weight and seemed to melt into a strange slumped, lurching creep towards me.
“She would do anything for you Nikki,” Fausille continued. “Even go so far as to kill… by proxy of course.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I couldn’t… Nickolaus’ eyes had a strange yellow gleam to them, all other colors leaked away until his eyes were glowing and neon gold.
I spun and fled, the sound of Fausille’s voice behind me… she was laughing… oh god, how she laughed …. and Nickolaus….
Nickolaus was roaring my name.
a Clockwork Rabbit 