This Is My Town

Chapter Twenty Three ~ Kiara

Kiara began to panic; what was Pandora doing? Did she not hear her son, only seconds before? He did not want this! Was she really so selfish as to deny her son what he really wanted, which wasn't much to ask of at all? He wanted his mother; it was that simple. Pandora had to just drop the whole masquerade she had going on. It wasn't as hard as she was making it.

"No, please!" Kiara begged. "You cannot; this is ridiculous! Your son does not want this, and nor do I! Nor does anyone!"

But Pandora kept chanting, and the room began to rumble and quake, shaking slightly. Kiara, all of a sudden, was lifted off of her feet and was hovering in mid-air. She shrieked as her dress flailed about around her, and then she was thrown backwards, stuck to the wall behind the throne. Still suspended in the air, her head merely centimetres away from the ceiling, Kiara was pinned to the wall with her arms and legs stuck back with her head, as if they had been glued down. She thrashed and thrived, but it was no use; she was stuck, and there was nothing she could do about it. So she kept lashing out, trying in vain to do something that she knew was impossible.

It gave her the hope that maybe she wasn't completely useless.

"O Lord," she muttered, "Divine of all Gods, I summon you unto me. Domine, ad me vocavi Te divina deorum. O Lord, Divine of all Gods, I summon you unto me. Domine, ad me vocavi Te divina deorum. O Lord..." She continued like this, and then the pain hit.

Kiara didn't hesitate in screaming.

It felt as though there were millions of big, jagged swords slicing into her stomach, all at once, and she screamed and screamed and screamed. She couldn't hear anything over the sound; there was nothing but her pain in existence anymore. Her pure black eyes were screwed closed so tight that Kiara didn't even feel them anymore; all she could really feel was the blood seeping through the fabric of her dress from her stomach to drip down in puddles to the ground that was way, way below her.

And, all of a sudden, a loud bang and a bright flash followed, resulting in Kiara's pain fading away as she slid down the wall so quickly that she landed funny on her right hand, but the pain barely registered. There was nothing like the pain that she had felt up on that wall; it was just too much. She had never experienced pain like that before, especially not with the amount of blood it brought. Her hands were covered in the thick, red substance as she ripped the sleeves of her dress down so that they cut off a little below her shoulders. She didn't care; she opened her eyes as she knelt down on the ground, staring at the blood that ran up her arms and stained them, almost as if she had reached inside someone to pull their heart out. It looked gruesome and ghastly, but it was her own blood.

"Kiara," a deep, angelic voice reverberated down to her, and she shook, looking up at the figure standing before her.

"What- what did you d- do t- to me?" she stuttered, and the man that held the most magnificent green eyes Kiara had ever seen knelt down in front of her.

"It was not intentional," he said. "Forgive me. I am Maklon, God of the Worthy."

Kiara shivered as she knelt down to the ground. "W- Why are you b- being n- nice to me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the God picked her words up fine.

"You are not like the others," he concluded for her. "You are not unworthy. You were not born how they were; you are a new race, and one that I do not frown upon. Flawed, you are not; your imperfections are what make you unadulterated; pure."

Kiara took a minute or two to compose herself before she lifted her body, her arms still resting on her legs that were still knelt beneath her.

"I- I do not understand," she said weakly, noticing Rye =being held back by Pandora as Enzo lay on the ground beside her, unmoving. "Why are they not affected as I am? Why is she not affected, if she is connected to me?"