Renevere Mars: Part Two

Episode 12: Costly Secrets

Sam let out a scream, so guttural and so pitiful it was painful to hear. But the man that stood over him in the dark, moonlit cellar only smiled. He had long silver hair and a leisurely posture. He shifted the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other.

"Please," Cara simpered. She was sitting overtop of Sam who was chained to the floor. "Please, no more..." Tears streamed down her face. There were dozens of metal rods protruding from her back, blood oozing from them and seeping into the fragments of clothing that remained on her mutilated form. She lifted her arms over her head, clutching a knife. The motions were jarring and uneven, against her will. Sam began to pant in anticipation of the pain. Her hands slammed down and forced the knife into his stomach once more, sending screams into the cell again, echoing off the walls and tangling with their reverberations until they took on a phantom life of their own.

Ren's eyes peeled open, sticky from sweat. Her bedroom had grown hot in the morning sun that filled the room. She threw back the blankets, rolling over and burying her face in the pillow.

It was a similar dream that she'd been having for weeks now. Two weeks, specifically. That's how long it had been since she returned to Ossilith, and still her friends were out there, perhaps undergoing something similar to what her subconscious had dreamed up. But Hog, Hog was only part of her imagination. She reminded herself this and trembled a little at the recollection of all that was left of the man, crumpled in the grass, dribbling spittle.

What had she done to him? In the moment, there had been no guilt. In the moment, there had been no real thoughts at all. But hindsight changed things, and in recollection her actions took on a much darker tone. What a terrible fate to bestow upon anyone, even him. Uncomfortable questions about her own morality floated in the shadows of her conscious, and then behind those shadows even still there was the sick part of her that drew satisfaction from possessing such a power. She still wasn't sure what it was exactly that she'd accomplished that day. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she might be wasting her time trying to discover a name in a text book for what she had performed in the forest, and should rather be focusing her energy on choosing a name for it. She was hesitant to believe it, but had she created her own cha? Certainly the effects of it were the likes of which she'd never seen...

Then again, she wasn't exactly a traveled and experienced warrior, but she had no one with which to ponder on the nature of her mysterious cha. In fact, she simply had no one. She had been released from the hospital after a few days, and Duren a few days after that, but she still hadn't seen a shadow of him since they returned to the city. When she did catch a glimpse of him from across the street or at the training grounds, she was too proud to approach him.

A knock on the door jarred her from her thoughts, pulling her head from the pillow. For an instant, she became overwhelmed with relief at the thought of Sam and Cara on the other side of her door. She closed her eyes as the impossibility of the thought drained her. She could see them clearly on the backs of her eyelids, so young and hopeful for her to join them in some zany adventure. She stood hastily and grabbed her robe. She couldn't help herself for hoping who this person might be, since it could not be Sam or Cara. She swung open the door, both chilled and refreshed by the autumn air blustering in through the opening.

Red hair and freckles greeted her on the other side, standing slightly at a slant, trying to look cool.

"What are you doing here, Tannah?" she said, not attempting to keep the deflation from her voice.

"I don't know," he said sinuously, leaning into the doorway and eyeing her with a smoky glint. "Thought you could use some company."

"Not from you," she said bleakly, and slammed the door in his face. She felt almost guilty for it in the next second of silence, turning her back to the door. Any more forcefully and she might've closed the door on his hand. Another round of jolting bangs from behind her signified he had not left.