C Is For Carmiabell Locks

Chapter 21: Troll For Guard

Trust you me, after reading such a text, there could be a million ways to translate it and in all of them Carmiabell found herself on the other end of the afterlife.

She could be living her last days and there was nothing more excruciating than knowing that. It didn't feel like a load at first but everything became clear when she was on her own on the bathroom floor.

She wondered who she would be to blame if she was truly going, or how her coffin would look like. Would people cry or laugh at her burial? What would they say about her? Would her eulogy stand out like that of a prince or would she just be another girl that passed?

There was so much that she had not done and the thought of leaving before doing them only made it worse.

She caught a tear escaping its confines and rubbed it off her face but there were many more on the way after that. They cascaded down her crimson cheeks and merged with warm water from the shower. A shower that could once wash away all the stress accumulated from the day and leave her shining and new; it had never been rendered more useless.

She couldn't tell whether it was the black-veins-effect that writhed so much pain in her or it was the fact that she was not ready to accept her departure. Either way, the pain was relentless. It throbbed like the beat of her heart burning her like an inferno with every beat.

On the other side, her optimism had it that they would find the nightmare but it was melting down with every stretch of the darkness in her veins.

Morning birds chirped in enthusiasm before she could even know, summoning Ellialand and her creatures up. Dawn had arrived.

Sleep must have been an aftereffect of the curse, or how else could she explain nodding off in the bathroom after an excruciating internal demolish of every last modicum hope?

The first thing on her mind was checking out her arm. The black veins had attacked most of her left arm bicep and were stretching further and the only thing she could do was get her friends in more trouble.

Earlier than expected, Carmiabell’s house's front door was knocked. For some reason Carmiabell thought that it was another sinister letter being left behind but hearing Zuina's sound over the roof, she knew that they had landed. Phoebi's sound too was heard; narrating to Carmiabell's mother how she got the new outfit.

Carmiabell dressed up and joined Phoebi and Zuina in the parlor.

Her mother’s recipes were getting better and her chances of winning the Neporian Give Away best cook were getting higher.

It was hard to figure out how she managed to balance between her job, as a supermarket accountant, and cooking as both a mother and an aspiring cook. Either way, she was doing it right as far as Carmiabell could see… or taste.

Phoebi and Zuina acted perfectly. Her mother couldn't distinguish between a normal school day with friends to pick her up and a day they had all planned to skip school.

She threw her mother a flying kiss and took off.

Since Damon lived closer to a carriage station, he was to catch them there where they found him waiting for them. “Hey algebra,” he gritted.

The newspaper industry was not far from the carriage station, but Incase they needed the rest of the day to dig deeper into what Mrs Tuth was up to, they took a witch-carriage.

Trolls were as rare as a sailor in the desert in the South but guess the creature that was guarding the industry gate.

A giant shadow loomed above the carriage before Carmiabell peeked. A hundred feet tall figure stood akimbo in front of the gate scanning the people getting in.

His giant legs stood like castle turrets body build like that of a troll’s gym teacher. If not for the way he hunched to clearly visualize his victims, Carmiabell could have sworn that his head hid above the clouds.

His face could fit in Carmiabell's entire house and leave no room to even breathe and his mouth was shut. Thank god.

Trolls had good memories and some say that they could smell fear, so he had more than a good reason to be standing there.

They all descended, joining the few strangers crossing paths each towards a different direction.

Two ladies, probably late for work, hurried for the gate and stoped a short distance from the troll for his assessment. He didn't blink nor take long to recognize them. He nodded and let them off.

Zuina and Carmiabell’s eyes spoke but Phoebi could not keep from amplifying it,”we are dead.” After reviewing her words she uttered,”not you Carmiabell you will be safe.”

If that was a consolation, it only reminded Carmiabell of her status.

“Not me, I can run.” Vampires could outrun trolls so it made sense.

Zuina turned to Damon with a face that had gotten Carmiabell in lots of troubles that she could not count even if she wanted to.

“You can outrun a troll,  right?”

The question itself carried a taste of infamy.

“You know I can,” Damon answered boldly, marching the dots of where the idea could be leading to. “You want me to confront this big guy?”

“That's the idea,” Zuina clarified.

Damon switched to the troll and sighed before looking back at Carmiabell.

The fact that he was doing it for her was the first thought that landed in Carmiabell's head, but there was another that lit a small flame in an endless stretch of darkness; what if she was the last thing his eyes wanted to see before the last flash of light?

Her acquaintance with near death must have been influencing her habitual reasoning; death was all her thoughts were channeling to.

No he was not going to die. Her optimism had never hit a magnitude of satisfaction I, even at the brief consolation of herself, it still felt like everyone was going to die in the end.

Like a shot, he left the entire road clean of dust and autumnal leaves, leaving behind a wave that almost blew them away.

The troll saw him and was swift to curve its lips into a crooked oval shape and blow out air that felt more like a wind attack than a whistle.

A prayer that the troll kept its mouth shut that was spinning around Carmiabell's mind was suddenly down casted.

A gust of wind cleared up what was left by Damon, a smidgen of it reaching Carmiabell and her clique. The halitosis that came with it reeked worse than baby poo. Saying that trolls did not clean their teeth would be an understatement, whatever they ate should be checked out. 

Ellialand should invent a law that strictly kept troll mouths shut at all cost.

Carmiabell choked before clearing Damon by the troll's foot after dodging the wind.

In an anticipated turn of events, another vampire from somewhere behind the troll appeared, tackling Damon to the other side of the road.

The rest was silence, uncertainty gnawing at each one of them.