The Story of Blitz : Chapter 2 - Into the Woods

Nightfall in the Shadow Woods, all was quiet and dark, unusually for tonight, there is no crickets or chicadas singing their soft songs nor are there any birds in the trees. Everything seems to be gone, leaving an eerie, creepy feeling in the forever gloomy woods.

There was a large caw-cawing sound, the sound of rustling feathers, the rhythmic beats of wings flapping and a raven perched itself on top of a branch. It is unusually large for a normal raven, it is twice the size of an average one, and awfully large and menacing. Its feathers are as beautifully black as the nightfall, its eyes large and round, like shining crimson rubies. Its beak is a mix of golden orange, like razor and sharpened to the point. The claws are like powerful piercing razor irons, strong and sharp like cold steel. Indeed, it is a raven like no other.

The raven cocked its head to one side, as if it’s thinking, making up its mind, which is a rather odd behaviour. As if it had made its decision, it spread out its wings and flapped deeper into the woods, flying so fast til the trees around it were like blurs of ink black. Deeper and deeper into the darkness it went when a small golden light, no bigger than a speck of dot appeared in its field of vision. It then burst into a small clearing in the heart of the woods, where a small campsite area had been set up. The gold light was actually a campfire, which is burning merrily in the middle. Piles of woods had been set beneath it to keep it burning.

The raven gave a caw and touched down. As it did so, it materialized into a hooded figure, pulling off his hood to reveal his appearance. He is very tall, nearly seven feet tall, powerfully-built with broad shoulders and legs as thick as tree trunks. His hair is blond, so pale blond til it’s nearly white, it stood straight up til it looks so electrifying. His eyes are cold and hard, utterly without mercy, the colour of his iris like shining crimson bloodstones, probably as red as fresh blood, with a tint of sparkle in them, the only source of life in him. His cloak is exactly the colour of the raven’s feathers, so black til it seems to blend him into the shadows, fastened with a bloodstone. The clothes he wore will not look out of place in the Middle Ages. A worn out tunic and pants, with a thin leather belt and thick boots made out of dragon hide.

Taking no notice of the surrounding, the man sat in front of the fire, warming his hands. His nails are painted black like a typical Goth, except nothing about him is Gothic. He is utterly cold and hard, as though someone had cut off all emotions from him, leaving him empty like a hard shell. As he sat there, feeling the warmth of the heat, a raven similar to him flapped down and landed on his shoulder, tucking its wings neatly beneath it.

“Demise will be here soon.” He stroked the raven longingly with his fingers. It gave a caw and then sat still.

There was a few minutes of silence as the time is ticking by. After a moment of waiting or so a huge gust of wind appeared in front of him, making the flame dance wildly. Rose petals blew around him like a storm, spinning and dancing all around. Without warning, the gust that had been spinning wildly stopped just as boy emerged from its depth, wearing a cloak that makes him resembles the Grim Reaper. He has semi-long spiky pink hair that frames his smiling boyish face, which matches his eyes. Framed by long feminine lashes like a girl’s. What is most unusual is his skin. Pale white as smooth as porcelain, but sickly pale as Death.

“Demise.” The man nodded curtly.

“Sigan.” Demise said cheerfully. He’s holding a very, very long thorny vine that acts as a rope. Bound to it is a young girl, around 17, with soft blue hair and soft green eyes.

“Is that her?” He asked, jabbing a thumb at the bound girl, whose mouth was also gagged with vine.

“Should be,” Demise said cheerfully, his face sweet and angelic, full of innocence.

Sigan send his raven flying into the air, got up and went over to the girl, who is trying to shirk away from him. Taking no notice, he grabbed her head roughly and examined her carefully like a scientist trying to conduct his experiments. After a few minutes, he shook his head.

“It’s not her.”

Demise’s smile faltered a bit. “It’s not?”

“No, the eyes are the wrong colour. It’s blue, not green. And the hair is longer.”

“Darn, she was a bit tough to catch.” Demise positioned himself in front of the fire, the flames reflecting in his pink eyes. “Should I let her go?”

“I’ll handle it.”

There was the unmistakable sound of the human neck snapping and the girl slumped onto the ground, dead.

“Was that necessary?” Demise asked as Sigan removed the gag from the now dead girl and knotted it around her legs, which he attached with a huge boulder.

“I will not risk our cover being blown.” He said coldly. He then snapped his fingers sharply and a huge raven swooped down, snatched the girl firmly and flew off into the night sky. Few moments later, there was a far distance splash and Sigan smiled.

“Harsh.” Demise remarked.

“I made sure the body is buried within the sea.” Sigan sat back down., without sympathy nor regret. “That way, no one can find any evidence. And you’re one to talk, who’s the one that always chop people’s heads and collect them as trophies?”

“I do think of it as an art.” Demise pulled out a neatly packed package from within his cloak. “You look worn out, have some of this.”

“What is it? Poison?” Sigan eyed it suspiciously.

Demise laughed as he unwrapped the package, revealing a bottle filled with purple liquid, tightly corked to prevent its contents from spilling. Even in the dim light, Sigan could see the label clearly thanks to his enhanced vision.

Sierra Falls Sparkling Wine

Silently, Demise pulled the cork out, and handed it to him. Sniffing it suspiciously, Sigan took a sip. Delicious, cold and refreshing, he thought dreamily and in awe. The wine is made out of fresh grapes, freshly squeezed to get its rich juice out, some sugar to make it sweet, without preservatives nor chemicals, then freshly chilled with ice. It’s not even made from modern technology, but handmade.

“It’s the best wine in town.” Demise smirked, taking out a small hipflask and taking a swig. “I regularly drop by the winery to get one. Great, isn’t it?”

Sigan took another greedy slurp before answering, “Get another.”

“No problem.” Demise got up. “I could also search for her. Kill two birds with one stone. You sure this is where she is staying?”

“Positive. And I’ll stay here and scout, I’ll attract too much attention.”

Demise nodded and there’s a gust of flower petals and he’s gone.

Sigan waited til the last rose petal was out of sight before wiping away a bead of sweat from his eyebrow.

He’s getting suspicious… He thought. At this rate, if he inform to him, I’ll be in trouble. I got to find her and fast.

Pulling back his hood, he transformed back into a raven and took off into the skies.

The Story of Blitz : Chapter 1 - Arrivals

Carla Seraphis Angelo padded down the stairs, her silvery hair trailed down behind her. Four guests are leaving tonight and two more are coming in. The rooms have to be cleaned, the sheets changed, and the meals have to be prepared. On top of that, her nephew from the states is coming today.

As she hurried passed the ornate gilt mirror that hung in the parlour, she glanced at her reflection and winced. The reflection of the woman staring back at her is not a pretty sight. Carla is actually a woman in her fifties, but the woman’s reflection looks as though she’s in her twenties, with platinum silver hair that trails pass her shoulders like a tumbling silvery waterfall. Her skin is of a light olive tone, her forehead as wide as a widow’s peak. Her lips are thick and pale red. Her eyes are a dark violet, so dark that it looks like onyx, with the beginning of pencil lines around them. The gown she’s wearing was once cream, but now its colour had long since faded, covered with crumpled wrinkles.

With a sigh, Carla smoothed her gown down. These days had been busy for her. It is November in Asia, the holiday seasons for Asians. Tourists swarm into the town of Sierra Falls to take in the breath-taking scenery of nature, or to visit the town’s symbol, the famous Sierra Peak to climb it.

Sierra Falls is a small town located in the middle of a wood, known as the Shadow Woods by the townsfolk because the trees are thick, so thick til not even the sunlight can penetrate the thick leaves, usually leaving the wood gloomy. It is also a breeding place for crows and ravens, so usually the townsfolk never ever go in there alone, unless they needed to gather herbs. The town itself is quite small and peaceful. The townsfolk here live a very simple life, unlike people from the cities. There is a small town square, a high school, a library, the town’s mayor office which doubles as the sheriff’s office, a souvenir shop, a few residential houses and Carla’s inn, which triples as a bed & breakfast, a café and an inn. That is why during the holiday season is usually a busy time for her.

A whiff of scent shook her out of her thoughts. Onion soup, by the smell of it. Does this mean someone is already in the kitchen cooking? Shaking her head, she went in, knowing what to expect.

A boy, around 19 or so is in the kitchen, cooking. He is six feet tall, with the look of a street fighter. His hair is short, but nearly reaching his shoulders. His eyes are like hers, dark violet that almost looks onyx, with tanned skin. He wore a tight sleeveless top that shows off his six-packs, tight fitting jeans and a goth-punk bracelet on his wrist. To complete his appearance, he has a scorpion tattoo on his left bicep and a silver scorpion which hung on a chain around his neck. Everything about him seems to radiate the “bad boy” aura.

“Buongiormo.” He greeted her in Italian, wiping the surface of a countertop.

“Buongiormo.” Carla is of Italian heritage. She moved to Asia after marrying her husband, Benjamin Worringthon back in the States, since Benjamin was running a B & B in Sierra Falls at that time. Benjamin was a cruel hard man, he had forced Carla into marriage just for the sake of having an extra hand in the B & B, which allows him to save cost. Then he forced her to have kids so that he didn’t have to hire helpers, then working all of them to the core from the crack of dawn. He forced his eldest child to master every kind of cuisine since he was 7, and was beaten everytime he had the food burnt or spoilt. His second child was forced to brew wine for the town, which was unheard of in the past decade, and if the wine does not meet his satisfaction she will be locked in the cold dark winery, but now it is a big hit among everyone. The youngest child was forced to cater in a very professional manner and everytime he made a mistake or was not being courteous enough, he would be sent to bed early without having any meal. It was a very tough life for Carla and her children.

After he had passed away, much to the relief of their hearts, she had inherited all of his assets and possessions, which include the B & B. Using the money he had left her, she had it renovated and converted and then renamed it as Casa de Angelo.

“Why up so early, Scorpio?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” He replied. “Mr Lee of Room 3 requested onion soup and fresh toast.”

Carla gave a soft chuckle. “Scor, you didn’t have to…”

“Mom, I keep telling you, it’s fine.” He popped a couple of toasts into the toaster and added, “Besides, he’s coming today, isn’t he?”

“Si.” Scorpio had meant their cousin, her nephew of course. The last time she saw him. He was only 5 years old. She wondered how he looks like now. “Is the spare room ready yet?”

“Gem is working on it.” He then went over to the white board that hung on the wall and scribbled something with a blue marker.

WEEKEND’S SPECIAL : APRICOT AND RASPBERRY FLAN

A girl padded into the kitchen, wearing a pink nightdress and a pair of Nemo-shaped slippers, yep, complete with little fins and all. The second child after Scorpio and Virgo – a rose between thorns- as Carla had once jokingly said. The girl resembles so much like her, except for the hairstyle. Carla kept hers loose and flowing, but this girl kept her layered and tied back with a piece of ribbon. Her skin is a typical soft brown of an Asian, the mix of two different races. She too have violet eyes, but they’re more of an onyx colour.

“I cleared the room from top to bottom.” She gave a huge sleepy cat-like yawn. “Is he really coming today?”

“Si, cara.” Carla patted her on the head. “Didn’t you get any sleep?”

“Not much.” Gemini gave another cat-like yawn, rubbing her sleepy eyes. “Fluffing the pillows is no easy task…”

“Go and get some rest, cara.” Carla took the tray from Scorpio, who was just about to send it up. “I’ll take it to Mr Lee. You take Gem up to bed.” She then left, the door swung shut behind her.

Scorpio gave Gem a playful cuff on her head. “Come on, gatto. Time for your sleep.”

“I want waffles.” She said in a slightly slurred tone.

“You’re suppose to be in bed.” Scorpio chuckled, but nevertheless, he brought out a couple of cooled waffles – cut into pig shaped- from a plastic Tupperware. You may think it is unusual for him to cut the waffles into pig-shaped but Gem just adore pigs. She has a whole collection of them. A china piggy bank. Pig-shaped pillows, a blanket covered with pig patterns, a pig backpack, a collection of china pigs of all shapes and sizes, you name it, she have it all. Her most prized possession would be a round pink pig plushie with cute tiny legs and ears, a big snout and a cute tail, which she received since she was a baby.

Anyway, Gemini was just devouring the waffles hungrily when a boy entered the kitchen. The youngest of Carla’s child, just reaching his teens. He was putting on a grey T-shirt single handedly as he entered, so that for a moment you could catch a glimpse of his skinny lean bare body, which seems bony, with not much fat. He has a red highlight on his platinum hair, with the fringe sticking out in all directions. Unlike his older siblings, who inherited the Angelo violet almost onyx eyes, he has light green eyes, as green as the ocean’s curl. His skin pale, so pale that it looks as though he had never been exposed into daylight before. He wore an assortment of silver rings on his fingers, the nails painted jet-black. A silver fleur de lise chain bracelet hung around his right wrist. Both of his ears wore earrings, though the left one have two piercings and neither of them match. A silver crucifix hung on his right whereas a silver ring is hung on his left. To complete his Gothic-Punk appearance, he was carrying a round pink pig under his arm.

Gemini nearly choked on her waffle as she wailed, “My pig!”

“You snooze, you lose, sis.” The boy tossed the pig up and down, but he was forced to duck as Scorpio aimed at his head with a copper frying pan.

“Give me that pig!” He waved the pan threateningly.

“Never!”

The copper fan was flung aside and Scorpio rugby tackled Virgo, sending him crashing onto the floor. The pig went soaring into air and landed on Gemini’s lap with a soft thump. Clutching the pig tightly in her hands, she turned to both boys but they seemed to be having a good old fashioned brawl to take any notice of her, or the pig that had been retrieved by her.

“Scusi.”

Gemini turned her droopy eyes to the doorway where a boy, around 18 or so, stood, carrying a worn out rucksack that seems to be filled with very little things. His built is tall and lanky, with boyish good looks and puppy eyes. His hair is spiky and golden blonde. His eyes are pearly grey at first sight, but on closer inspection they are like twin opal stones, reflected with many colours in the light, skin as fair as smooth white marble but not sickly pale. On the left sight of his face is a bolt of lightning tattoo. From the way’s he dressed, he looks like a gangster or in juvenile. A plain V-necked white tee over a worn-out red jacket with the sleeves rolled up till above the elbows. His jeans are faded and has holes in the knees, held with a leather studded belt, which is peeling in some places. Blue gloves in faded leather reveals his long slender fingers like a pianist with hard nails. The combat boots he wore is stained with dirt and dust, hence, he looks like a juvie.

“No guests allowed in the kitchen.” Gemini said sleepily. “Order your food through the window, grazie.” She gestured at a small window which doubles as a counter where there’s a stack of menus on the windowsill.

“Gemini, you’re Gemini, right?” The boy spoke with an American accent, but he’s Italian is good, very good.

Her eyes snapped open wide. “Blitz?”

“Si.”

“Madonna, is it really you? You’re here! You’re actually here!!!!” She shrieked with excitement.

Scorpio had won the brawl just as Gemini finished speaking. He took in Blitz and gawrked in surprise. Virgo, on the other hand, was lying flat on the floor, mumbling, “What happened to the pig?”

“Hey there, Scorpio, Virgo.” He nodded at them in turn. “Who won the brawl?”

Scorpio heaved Virgo up by the scruff of the neck and said, “Go and serve the customers.”

“What?! Why me? Why can’t Gem do it?” He scowled. Then his eyes widen at the sight of the pink plushie in Gemini’s arms. “The pig!!!”

Gemini covered the plushie protectively in her arms as Scorpio said, “You lost, that’s why. And don’t even think about taking Gem’s pig with you.”

Virgo grumbled and picking up a notepad and pen on his way out, he left. The sound of his footsteps fading away.

“Good to see you, cousin.” Scorpio said jovially. “How’s Washington D C?”

“Same old, same old.” Blitz set his rucksack down on a chair and took off his jacket, revealing his shirt which is crumpled from jet-lag. “Blood hell. This is pretty hot.”

Scorpio sighed. Blitz never came to Asia often. He loathe Asia, he hated it, with its blistering tropical heat all around, with no four seasons except Summer. But when his parents died last year, no one was willing to take care of him. No one except Carla related from his father’s side. As soon as he had graduated high school, he put up the flat for sale in the market, packed up his very few belongings and here he is.

“How about you guys?” He asked. “The inn still going strong?”

“Our statistics are still the same as ever.” Scorpio chucked the frying pan back into its proper cabinet. “Not much to say about it.”

At that moment, Gemini placed her head on the table and snored lightly. Whatever they have to say will have to wait.

“I got to get her to bed. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” He carried her on his back, piggy-back style.

Blitz picked up his stuff and followed him to a narrow corridor with bare walls that has doors on either side and at the end, about four in total, all identical.

Scorpio pointed at the one in the end, and in turn, pointed to the one at the right. “That’s Carla’s room, and that is mine.” He nodded at a wooden door whose paint is flaking into bits. It has a wooden plague that reads, BLITZ’S ROOM. “That’s yours. Gem and Virgo are opposite to yours. Well, that’s it. Tour’s over.”

“That’s way too short.” Blitz commented.

“Well, yeah.” Scorpio gave a nonchalant shrug. “Tomorrow we’ll show you a little secret. Part of the tour.”

“We?”

“Yep, as in Gem, Virgo and myself.” He winked, entering the room.

Blitz gave a small smile as he entered his room.