"Are you all right, honey? You're not coming down with a fever, are you?" His mother was looking at him with a look that practically screamed concern. Adele Hunter stood on tiptoe, placing a hand on his forehead. Somehow, the gesture felt awkward to Eduard: he was already much taller than his petite mother. Even his brother, Taran, who was five years his senior, was almost a head shorter than him.
"Yeah, I'm okay," he lied as he slowly brushed her hand away.
"Are you sure? You look a little pale."
From the kitchen, Taran said, "Yeah, sure, mom. Make sure little Eddie over there is okay while your real son is suffering in here!" His voice had taken on a certain edge, and Eduard knew that Taran was not in a good mood. Moments later, as Taran lumbered into the living room, Eduard knew he was right. By the look of it, Taran was hungover from his night out partying with his ruffian friends.
"Now, don't start this again," Adele muttered, a hint of reproach creeping into her voice. "You're no less my son than Eddie is."
"Yeah, right, mom," Taran hissed icily. "I certainly wasn't left at our door by some weirdo, unlike that leper over there." He jerked his chin at Eduard.
"Taran-" she broke off, and sighed. Her gaze slid to Eduard, and a look of discomfort crossed her features for a moment. There was a pause, and she muttered, "Go to your room, Eddie. Now."
Eduard blinked. That was unexpected. Taran was the one acting out and he was the one she chose to dismiss? Now wasn't that a little ... strange? He pondered on this as he shambled off to his room. He'd only began to shut the door when his curiosity got the better of him. This was something he'd never encountered before in the Hunter household. He decided to eavesdrop.
He crept down the stairs, trying his best to keep out of sight. He listened hard, but it didn't take much effort to hear what his brother was saying. It took a lot more effort to hear the hushed whisper that was his mother's voice.
"Why are you always defending him?" Taran exploded.
"Now, come on, Taran," Adele coaxed. "You know it's not like that ..."
"Yeah, right, mom. You could've just left him at some hospital or something! I mean, you even went through all the trouble of going to court just so you could keep the little brat! Even when you knew we couldn't manage, with dad being the sorry bastard that he is and how hard you have to work just to be able to keep our apartment!"
"Taran, just listen to me for once-"
"No, mom! Why don't you listen to me?" Taran cried. "It's not about feeling sorry for him, in spite of what you tell me and yourself every fucking day. You want him to be yours. You wish that he really is your son, instead of some leper you decided to take in, and do you know why, mom?" A pause. Hysterical laughter. Taran's laughter. "You want to believe that the good boy you raised is really yours! You want to believe that you didn't fail as a mother! You see Eduard as a second chance, after seeing how I grew up to be a disappointment! You gave up on me, mom, even back when I was a toddler who knew nothing."
"That's not true-"
"Then why don't you just tell him where he came from?" Taran hissed.
"I-" Adele began, then stopped. She was hesitating, trying to find a good reason.
No, Eduard thought furiously. No. That can't be true.
He slipped into his room, closing the door behind him and locking it, locking himself away in his tiny bedroom and trying to forget what he had heard. Trying to un-hear everything, to undo what had been done. He couldn't, and the harder he tried, the more sense everything seemed to make. He shut his eyes tight, trying to clear his thoughts. His head was aching, and every discomfort he'd experienced seemed to be amplified, magnified a thousand times.
He's weird. Why doesn't he look like either of us? Taran's voice, a memory. He had been five at the time, and Taran was ten.
That's because he looks more like Daddy. This was Adele's reply.
"Stop that," he growled as he sank to his knees on the floor, burying his face in his hands.
What's Daddy like? He pictured his eight year old self, posing that question to Taran.
How should I know, Taran muttered in response. He's a fucking bastard who's also an irresponsible drunk who took off the moment he realized that he'd got mom pregnant.
Why the heck didn't he notice how that story didn't add up? If their father had left the moment their mother told him she was pregnant, that would mean that she'd only have one child: Taran. Unless she went out with someone else after that (which was highly unlikely, considering the fact that Adele had only mentioned one 'Daddy', and was too busy to be with any other guy) and had him ...
"Damn it," he muttered through gritted teeth. "And they fucking didn't tell me!"
A strange emotion filled him. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but it felt a lot like rage, and ... something else. Something that felt more potent. Something that made his skin grow hot and the blood in his veins boil. It was as if there was a dormant volcano inside of him suddenly springing to life.
That would probably explain why his room suddenly combusted.
"Well, don't just stand there, my dear," Apollo drawled. "Go inside."
Ellie hesitantly walked into the apartment. Apollo followed her shortly and closed the door behind them. Ellie ignored him and merely chose to scrutinize the apartment, which looked nothing like home. It was bare, save for a sofa and a television set in the living room. Not very far from it was a kitchenette, which had little. A fridge, a microwave, dirty dishes in the sink ... She couldn't see any bathrooms or bedrooms, but she was sure that there was at least one or two down the narrow hallway to her left. Unless this was more of a studio home of some sort; she doubted that.
"Nice ... place," she muttered sarcastically.
"I can hear the sarcasm in your voice, Bianca. Don't give compliments if they're not sincere," Apollo muttered in response to her comment.
Ellie whirled around to face him. "It's Ellie now. Don't call me Bianca anymore. I'm Ellie. Say it with me: El-lie. Get it?"
"Cute," Apollo replied quietly. "At least I won't have to bother to come up with an alias for you when we go."
"Why are we going?" Ellie asked. "I don't reckon they want me back."
"No," Apollo confirmed. "They don't."
"And ... you didn't hurt Ed, did you?" she asked nervously, recalling the fight, as well as the moments after it.
"Just a memory spell," he replied as he met her eye, making her shiver with repulsion. "On him and the rest of the people present when we ad our little discussion today. Don't worry, it won't mess anything else up. But if he does try to regain his memory, then brain damage would be ... inevitable. But he can't really be that stupid, right?" He grinned. "On a different note, however, I would explain to you why I'm taking you back to that hellhole, but I'll only tell you enough to shut you up."
Ellie turned away. "You won't shut me up that easily. There's a lot I need to know."
But Apollo shook his head. "Not what you need to know, dear. You only think you need to know those things, but the truth is, you only want to know. There's a huge difference in that, considering the fact that most of your questions would sum up to useless nuggets of information anyway. Where we're going, the only thing you need to know is how to survive in what I call the Hitler regime, and how to infiltrate and take down the Organization."
Ellie looked up. "The Organization?"
Apollo smiled. "Now we're on the same page."
"Yeah, I'm okay," he lied as he slowly brushed her hand away.
"Are you sure? You look a little pale."
From the kitchen, Taran said, "Yeah, sure, mom. Make sure little Eddie over there is okay while your real son is suffering in here!" His voice had taken on a certain edge, and Eduard knew that Taran was not in a good mood. Moments later, as Taran lumbered into the living room, Eduard knew he was right. By the look of it, Taran was hungover from his night out partying with his ruffian friends.
"Now, don't start this again," Adele muttered, a hint of reproach creeping into her voice. "You're no less my son than Eddie is."
"Yeah, right, mom," Taran hissed icily. "I certainly wasn't left at our door by some weirdo, unlike that leper over there." He jerked his chin at Eduard.
"Taran-" she broke off, and sighed. Her gaze slid to Eduard, and a look of discomfort crossed her features for a moment. There was a pause, and she muttered, "Go to your room, Eddie. Now."
Eduard blinked. That was unexpected. Taran was the one acting out and he was the one she chose to dismiss? Now wasn't that a little ... strange? He pondered on this as he shambled off to his room. He'd only began to shut the door when his curiosity got the better of him. This was something he'd never encountered before in the Hunter household. He decided to eavesdrop.
He crept down the stairs, trying his best to keep out of sight. He listened hard, but it didn't take much effort to hear what his brother was saying. It took a lot more effort to hear the hushed whisper that was his mother's voice.
"Why are you always defending him?" Taran exploded.
"Now, come on, Taran," Adele coaxed. "You know it's not like that ..."
"Yeah, right, mom. You could've just left him at some hospital or something! I mean, you even went through all the trouble of going to court just so you could keep the little brat! Even when you knew we couldn't manage, with dad being the sorry bastard that he is and how hard you have to work just to be able to keep our apartment!"
"Taran, just listen to me for once-"
"No, mom! Why don't you listen to me?" Taran cried. "It's not about feeling sorry for him, in spite of what you tell me and yourself every fucking day. You want him to be yours. You wish that he really is your son, instead of some leper you decided to take in, and do you know why, mom?" A pause. Hysterical laughter. Taran's laughter. "You want to believe that the good boy you raised is really yours! You want to believe that you didn't fail as a mother! You see Eduard as a second chance, after seeing how I grew up to be a disappointment! You gave up on me, mom, even back when I was a toddler who knew nothing."
"That's not true-"
"Then why don't you just tell him where he came from?" Taran hissed.
"I-" Adele began, then stopped. She was hesitating, trying to find a good reason.
No, Eduard thought furiously. No. That can't be true.
He slipped into his room, closing the door behind him and locking it, locking himself away in his tiny bedroom and trying to forget what he had heard. Trying to un-hear everything, to undo what had been done. He couldn't, and the harder he tried, the more sense everything seemed to make. He shut his eyes tight, trying to clear his thoughts. His head was aching, and every discomfort he'd experienced seemed to be amplified, magnified a thousand times.
He's weird. Why doesn't he look like either of us? Taran's voice, a memory. He had been five at the time, and Taran was ten.
That's because he looks more like Daddy. This was Adele's reply.
"Stop that," he growled as he sank to his knees on the floor, burying his face in his hands.
What's Daddy like? He pictured his eight year old self, posing that question to Taran.
How should I know, Taran muttered in response. He's a fucking bastard who's also an irresponsible drunk who took off the moment he realized that he'd got mom pregnant.
Why the heck didn't he notice how that story didn't add up? If their father had left the moment their mother told him she was pregnant, that would mean that she'd only have one child: Taran. Unless she went out with someone else after that (which was highly unlikely, considering the fact that Adele had only mentioned one 'Daddy', and was too busy to be with any other guy) and had him ...
"Damn it," he muttered through gritted teeth. "And they fucking didn't tell me!"
A strange emotion filled him. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but it felt a lot like rage, and ... something else. Something that felt more potent. Something that made his skin grow hot and the blood in his veins boil. It was as if there was a dormant volcano inside of him suddenly springing to life.
That would probably explain why his room suddenly combusted.
"Well, don't just stand there, my dear," Apollo drawled. "Go inside."
Ellie hesitantly walked into the apartment. Apollo followed her shortly and closed the door behind them. Ellie ignored him and merely chose to scrutinize the apartment, which looked nothing like home. It was bare, save for a sofa and a television set in the living room. Not very far from it was a kitchenette, which had little. A fridge, a microwave, dirty dishes in the sink ... She couldn't see any bathrooms or bedrooms, but she was sure that there was at least one or two down the narrow hallway to her left. Unless this was more of a studio home of some sort; she doubted that.
"Nice ... place," she muttered sarcastically.
"I can hear the sarcasm in your voice, Bianca. Don't give compliments if they're not sincere," Apollo muttered in response to her comment.
Ellie whirled around to face him. "It's Ellie now. Don't call me Bianca anymore. I'm Ellie. Say it with me: El-lie. Get it?"
"Cute," Apollo replied quietly. "At least I won't have to bother to come up with an alias for you when we go."
"Why are we going?" Ellie asked. "I don't reckon they want me back."
"No," Apollo confirmed. "They don't."
"And ... you didn't hurt Ed, did you?" she asked nervously, recalling the fight, as well as the moments after it.
"Just a memory spell," he replied as he met her eye, making her shiver with repulsion. "On him and the rest of the people present when we ad our little discussion today. Don't worry, it won't mess anything else up. But if he does try to regain his memory, then brain damage would be ... inevitable. But he can't really be that stupid, right?" He grinned. "On a different note, however, I would explain to you why I'm taking you back to that hellhole, but I'll only tell you enough to shut you up."
Ellie turned away. "You won't shut me up that easily. There's a lot I need to know."
But Apollo shook his head. "Not what you need to know, dear. You only think you need to know those things, but the truth is, you only want to know. There's a huge difference in that, considering the fact that most of your questions would sum up to useless nuggets of information anyway. Where we're going, the only thing you need to know is how to survive in what I call the Hitler regime, and how to infiltrate and take down the Organization."
Ellie looked up. "The Organization?"
Apollo smiled. "Now we're on the same page."
1 comment:
I really liked these two scenes.
So much emotion in the first one that I know everyone can relate too.
And well, there is something slyly likable about Apollo. I liked the dialogue too.
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