Murder at the Masquerade

[Queen Rai]

"My name is Marcellus Belphonse."


Calliope's eye snapped open as the man said the words, and she immediately stumbled back out of his arms. One hand tightly pressed against her mouth, the other to her stomach. That name. The one that belonged to the man she'd been searching for all night. The one of the man she was supposed to kill. The one that she prayed this man wouldn't have. The woman shook her head slowly, her eyes darting towards the door before she turned her back to the man and started for it in almost a run. Of course everyone was watching her, letting out shocked gasped and murmuring to eachother. She didn't care.


The door was opened for her as she approached, but she was taken aback but the angry roar of wind. Calliope's eyes widened...how long had they been dancing? There wasn't a chance that she could make it out in such weather. As she stumbled back inside and the doors were shut once again, she muttered, "Why...why did it have to be him?"

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

Marcellus felt the warmth and weight in his arms disappear, as his grasp on the woman was rendered apart as she fled. His face fell pale and his eyes watched Merida with perplexity, her form slowly diminishing across the ballroom floor. Echoes of shock rippled throughout the speculating audience, but cast frozen upon the empty dance floor was Marcellus, the ghost of the woman's name on his parted lips. He could fathom only one thought in that moment outside of time and space, watching Merida, Why?


The toe of his boot slid forward, causing the man to stumble a few steps before regaining his balance. Without skipping a beat he turned his fall into a walk, but he found he couldn't move very far.


Why?


Merida had disappeared entirely now in the shadow of the ballroom, leaving the murmurs and shocked surprise to settle to the floor like dust. No one dared to speak now; the spell of silence was too great and menacing to shatter. Not until a wisp of cold air blew through the room did the surprised guests move and shout, and Marcellus was also released from his own spell of confusion. The wisp of air's passing was swift, but the message it conveyed was enough to snap the Belphonse into action. He didn't say a single word before he had turned on the heel of his boot and was off across the dance floor in the opposite direction Merida had chosen, presenting his sudden determination with each heavy footfall. Only his face gave light to the real emotions taking color from his cheeks. He was shocked.


A servant or butler of sorts was immediately at his lord's side, just as Marcellus had anticipated. A few whispers of words were exchanged between the pair before they parted, Marcellus exiting through a pair of double doors and his servant approaching the remaining guests in the room.


"Everyone!" the servant called out in a Londoners accent. He was an elderly man with a monocle and slicked-back hair, but his voice was still powerful from years of shouting out orders. "A storm has settled over the manor. Lord Marcellus Belphonse wishes to express his grievances over this inconvenience. But rest assured, you will have food and bedding for the night and days to come as needed." He clapped his hands and other servants presented themselves from the shadows. The musicians began to pack and scurry out of sight as the guests were ushered to spare rooms across the magnificent manor.


"Lord Belphonse asks that you all retire for the evening. Ladies and gentleman, if you would just follow us we shall accompany you to your rooms," the servant said.


Nods and murmurs sounded out throughout the small remaining number of guests in the room before they took their leave. Most of them were quite reluctant, but there wasn't a thing they could do. For those of the guests that had already taken the liberty of occupying one of the manor's rooms, they would be informed of the situation in the morning. Thus were Marcellus Belphonse's instructions. They were carried out to the letter.


Once the ballroom was rendered nearly vacant, Marcellus reentered. He hadn't changed costume nor had he at the least removed his mask - he remained the same, only his head was held higher now, and a colder aura was about him. "Have the woman," he said to his man, "escorted to her own room as well."





The servant nodded accordingly.


"Grievances indeed," Marcellus spat under his breath. "Their mere presence grieves me."

 

[Queen Rai]

"Everyone! A storm has settled over the manor. Lord Marcellus Belphonse wishes to express his grievances over this inconvenience. But rest assured, you will have food and bedding for the night and days to come as needed."


Calliope hugged her arms, wanting to just poof from existence. She wanted to run...she wanted to hide...she wanted the universe to collapse upon itself. Anything would be better than being stuck in that manor for another second. Why did she feel that way? She's found her target...and better yet, she was being invited to spend the night in the same place as him, where there was nobody to stop her from slipping into his quarters in the middle of the night besides a few easily charmed servants and drunken guests. Calliope gently pulled off her mask, backing herself against a wall as a few of the guests began to trail up the staircase to their rooms.


"Lord Belphonse asks that you all retire for the evening. Ladies and gentleman, if you would just follow us we shall accompany you to your rooms,"





Calliope bit down on her lip, and then fanned herself with her hand, as if she was trying to play off her running to the door as a mere attempt to get fresh air...nobody really looked convinced. The assassin was one of the last to be led up the stairs, and she had to force herself to act grateful. She practically held her breath the entire way to her room, which was surprisingly spacious...much larger than what she would've expected. The large, canopy bed was made perfectly with a deep magenta spread and matching pillows. A large, ornate rug was spread over the perfectly polished wooden floor, which matched the wardrobe, full length mirror, end tables, vanity, and bookcase perfectly. There was a large window across the room from the door, it's pinkish-red curtains hung un-drawn. It's sill was large enough to serve as a seat. Calliope stepped into the room, quietly thanked the servant, and then closed the door. Four oil lamps had already been lit, giving the room a dim light. The woman let out a long, drawn out sigh before slipping out of her shoes. She quietly propped her leg up on the bed and let her skirts ride up her thigh. She carefully unlatched her knife, and then set it on the end table.


"I expected you to be stained red before I put you down." she muttered bitterly to the weapon before slipping completely out of her dress. She opened the wardrobe, and was happy to see that a few dresses and nightgowns (probably belonging to noblewomen who couldn't be bothered to pack them back up after staying in the manor). She sifted through her options for a moment before noticing an article of clothing that was not like the others. A simple, deep red corset with two matching garters. Calliope raised her eyebrows, and then snickered.


"Ooh, whoever owned this must've been a fun one." she giggled as she examined her find. She paused for a moment, and then her eyes glimmered. Crossing over to the mirror, and silently held the lingerie up to her own body. A small smirk played across her mouth, and she muttered, "I wonder if Marcellus likes red..."

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

Marcellus' eyes followed the last few guests up the grand stairwell protruding from the heavens of the manor. His gaze lingered at the top of the stairs for some time, as if he expected someone to appear and bid him hither, to call out his name. It was evident he was trapped in thought.


After a few moments Marcellus' personal servant was at his side again, glare from the candelabra he held reflecting off his monocle. His lord didn't show the slightest recognition of his presence, still focused on the height of the ballroom stairwell, still lost in the meddling and troublesome thoughts that plagued him day in and day out. Now, however, another worry was cast into the lot, more prominent in Marcellus' mind than any other conceivable thought. The woman. The lady Merida.


Delicately, Marcellus raised a gloved hand to his face, and with the utmost care removed his golden mask. In the tight grasp of his fingers he held it, with great intensity stared at it. To him, Marcellus Belphonse, the Raven, the object was far more than an ornate decoration. It was an illustration - of his life, and of himself. A mask. To open up to no one, to work in shadow, to fabricate the truth into lies. All of these things were attributed to a mask - to concealment.


Marcellus threw it across the room.


The servant hesitated. "My lord?" he inquired, a hint of concern in his voice.


"Yes," Marcellus breathed heavily, after a moment of silence. He made his way slowly to the grand staircase, the flicker of his servant's candles illuminating the shatters of the golden mask one last time.


--





Marcellus threw himself upon his own bed, located in the most ornate of rooms at the manor. A heavy sigh lifted from his body as he lie there; he was overcome with fatigue, and he tiredly rubbed the back of his hand over his eyelids. He sighed again, followed by several deep breaths. "Oscar," he said to his man who waited respectfully at the door. "Guard my room tonight."


Oscar bowed his head and exited, leaving the candelabra on the room's nightstand. Its light was comforting in the spacious room, so dark and otherwise brooding. The flames flickered as wind howled outside Marcellus' window, and more snowflakes, thicker and heavier than before, could be seen idly floating past the paned glass. It was a historical room, home to many of the previous Belphonses, and the fine woodwork and gold and silver furnishings breathed of royalty. The decor was a fine example of the family's wealth, but also of how seriously they took themselves. Naturally, Marcellus hated every bit of it.


He waited up for several minutes more, doing nothing other than lying on his bed and thinking. Lately he had been a slave to his thoughts, so easily and constantly visiting him - toying with him almost. The woman's eyes - Merida's eyes - were still shining brightly in his mind, and the delicate touch of her skin still gave him goosebumps. Why, out of all the women he had seen and held in his life, did that one venomous beauty captivate him so? And what of her actions after the dance? He rolled over to his side, gazing down at his hands, thinking, Am I overreacting? Was she just shocked to be dancing with me, Marcellus Belphonse? A chuckle escaped from his lips, cold and lacking humor. There was such weight to a name like that, a bloodstained name everyone cursed . . . naturally the woman would have reacted as she did. Still, a guard outside his room tonight would only ensure his safety, and being cautious never hurt. He could see the girl again tomorrow, and if the storm didn't let up, perhaps ask her what had been plaguing him. Yes, he thought again, tomorrow.





Silently he undressed, blew out the flickering flames upon his nightstand, and succumbed to the warmth of his bed . . . waiting.

 

[Queen Rai]

Calliope silently slipped into the blood-colored lingerie, lacing the corset to excellent precision. She replaced her own garters that held up her black stockings with the red ones, but then realized she could wander around the manor without something over it. Once again, she opened up the wardrobe. Hidden behind a few colorful frocks was a beautiful, silky black robe with subtle swirling designs in the fabric. The woman carefully slipped it on, and was displeased to see that it was slightly too big for her...but it would have to do. The assassin approached the mirror once more, and after a few moments of fluffing and primping, she decided that she was ready.


And then it hit her. She had nowhere to hie her knife. The woman let out a long, drawn out sigh as she slipped the weapon into her gasp. She wouldn't be able to slip it into her garter, for after the robe came off, Marcellus would be able to see it. What she was wearing didn't exactly give her many hiding places. The woman looked around for a moment, and then let out a long sigh before placing the knife back down onto the table. She would just have to hope Marcellus had something in his room...a letter opener, perhaps? Surely a man of his stature had one on his desk.


After a few more moments of planning, the woman slipped out of her room and into the hall. She had no idea where Marcellus was, but she could probably get it out of one of the servants. She walked for a moment, waiting to stumble upon one of the many people employed in the manor. Eventually, she came across a man.


"Excuse me." she said quietly, as if to not disturb people in surrounding rooms. "But do you know where I might find Lord Marcellus Belphonse's quarters? I would like to...apologize for my earlier behavior."


The man looked the woman over, and his eyes nervously darted towards the door he was posted at.


"Oh, is he in there? I'll only be a--"


"The master has asked me to guard his room." the man said bitterly. "I cannot let you pass."


"But I'm sure if he just..."


"I'm sorry, ma'am."


"But if you just let me--"


"I said I'm sorry." he snapped. Calliope frowned.

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

Lying awake in bed, Marcellus stared at the solitary window that adorned his personal chambers. The snow was the only light thing he could make out in the otherwise overbearing darkness. It was tranquil and peaceful, each flake so gently falling and making way for the next, but even so, they spoke of trouble. Marcellus needed to be out of the manor by the following night, snow or not. If the frozen substance still remained he would have to count on rough goings.


Whispers drifted from the door of the room, reaching Marcellus' keen ears. He was always vigilant, even when supposedly sleeping. Nearly every word reached him from the door, yet he was troubled by the one speaking with Oscar. His servant's voice was easy for him to pick out, it was distinctive to his ears, but the other voice was hauntingly familiar . . . he couldn't place it. A woman's voice certainly, soft but firm in tone, and not like the high-pitched bird voices many of the other women possessed. It was on the tip of his tongue.


The whispers lulled to silence, causing Marcellus to take action. Tonight of all nights he was more on edge than ever, and the slightest disturbance at his door would cause him to investigate himself. No doubt Oscar had everything under ropes, but there was a chance that . . . that what? Marcellus stopped his hurry in the middle of putting on a robe, pondering the real reason for his actions. Why should he be so keen to investigate the voices outside his door? Oscar could easily have been idly chatting with a passing maid. All the same, reasons aside, he just knew he had to see who was beyond the door.


Having made himself decent, Marcellus silently approached the door, his ears dying for another sound beyond its wooden frame. It was still silent, though he could feel tension in the air. There's still time to return to bed, he thought, and nothing out of the ordinary shall come to pass. Tomorrow will come, and I will be forever away from this place. But . . . He trailed off in thought, his mind made. With a quick turn and jerk of the wrist, the ornate oak door swung open a crack, allowing the subtle light from the hall to drift into Marcellus' quarters. Even though subtle, the light was still blinding for him, and he had not opened the door far enough to see beyond Oscar's face. "Oscar," he whispered, "what is it?"

 

[Queen Rai]

"Oscar, what is it?"


Calliope and the man, who's name she assumed was Oscar, both looked up as they heard the words. Calliope bit down on her lip as she heard Marcellus speak, hugging her arms as she watched the door open a crack. She couldn't see the face of her target, but his voice was easily recognizable. Oscar gave a slight bow of the head as he said, "It is only that...woman, but do not worry. I already told her that--"


"Only that woman?" Calliope scoffed, raising an eyebrow. For a moment, she considered going into an overly dramatic speech about her stature (which was non-existent), but decided against it. She bit her tongue, thinking for a moment. She sighed, and then looked down at the floor, saying, "I already told you, I just wanted to talk to him for--"


"I already told you, the Lord does not wish to be disturbed. Now, please, allow me to escort you back to your room, miss--"


Calliope backed away from the man as he stepped towards her, pulling both hands to her chest as she stumbled back. The two had practically switched places, and the servant gave an annoyed sigh. Calliope was about to protest once more, but something caught her eyes. A face, looking straight at her from the crack in the door. The woman blinked for a moment as Oscar said, "You must leave now!"

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

"That . . . woman."





The words struck Marcellus' ears as though they were physically hit, and now he understood his inclination to approach the door. Now he also recognized the woman's voice. It's her, he thought breathlessly, a million thoughts entering his head all at once.


"Only that woman?"


Marcellus raised an eyebrow at the woman's retort, nearly finding amusement from her annoyance. He knew Oscar wouldn't budge, that the loyalty of his servant was beyond rich wages, and, unless he interjected, the woman wouldn't set a foot into his room. Nonetheless, his curiosity remained; why was she here at his door? And why just moments before had his mind had been her slave?


In one fluid movement, both Merida and Oscar swapped positions, placing the woman a few inches from the door's crack and in Marcellus' direct line of sight. Once more the woman's extraordinary beauty struck him, but the same warning he had felt earlier that day on the balcony returned. He felt himself slowly drawn to the woman anew, like her mere presence overrode any free will he possessed. She was coming closer, and closer . . .


"Oscar," Marcellus said suddenly, firmly. The door opened wide, revealing the tall man and his raven black hair, clad in nothing more than a robe. He ushered his servant aside, then took another step towards the door frame, casting his impressive figure in the light. His head turned to regard Merida, and he asked as evenly as he could, "What is it that you want with me?"

 

[Queen Rai]

"Oscar,"





Calliope was forced to step back as the door fully opened, revealing Marcellus in a mere robe that draped and swept over his tall figure. The woman tore her gaze from him to his servant, who'd backed away from the two. The lord took a step forward, the light in the hall casting over him as he turned towards the assassin. Calliope couldn't help the burning sensation in her cheeks as his gaze fell upon her, and she struggled to keep herself focused on her bloody task.


"What is it that you want with me?"


Calliope glanced back up at the man as he spoke to her, absently appreciating his appearance. His height, his slender form, his vibrant eyes...she took it all in, almost unable to stop herself. After a moment, she realized that the man had gone unanswered. The woman cleared her throat, and then said, "I just wanted to..."


Calliope trailed off, about to go on about how sorry she was for running off...how she never expected to be dancing with the renowned Marcellus Belphonse. Instead, she found herself saying something entirely different.


"I wanted to personally thank you for the dance." she smiled. She shot a quick glance at the one known as Oscar, and then scowled, "I didn't realize that it would be this troublesome."


Looking back up at her target, she asked, "May I come in?"

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

"I didn't realize that it would be this troublesome."


"Come now," Marcellus snapped, though his tone was at ease. "There is no need to bicker." His eyes held a soft and quiet quality to them, rarely seen throughout the normal space of a day, and his gaze upon Merida was gentle. Rubbing his hands together as if he were cold, he then nodded his approval to Oscar, who respectfully turned to face the corridor and tore his gaze away from the pair.


Marcellus found he had been caught off guard by the woman's simplistic honesty and gratitude. He wasn't sure what to expect originally, but this had beaten his expectations. A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth, and he bowed his head to Merida. "The pleasure was mine," he said. And honestly, surprised as he was by it, Marcellus meant those words.


"May I come in?"


At this the lord Belphonse stopped and looked hard at the woman. The question, so simple yet pitching such great importance, bore a heavy weight upon his conscience. If she tried anything, naturally it was in his power to stop it, but that wasn't what concerned him. Then what is concerning me, he pondered, as he lost his gaze within Merida's vibrant eyes.


A moment passed and the woman went unanswered. Marcellus' face remained blank, as if he hadn't heard. But snapping out of his state of mind, he found the words rolling far too quickly off his tongue in response to the lady Merida. "For a moment, yes, m'lady."





Oscar seemed to want to protest, but he could do nothing as Marcellus ushered the woman inside and gently closed the door behind them.


Now, Marcellus thought, I can inquire at my own discretion - there will be no need to question her tomorrow.





The room was as dark as night, the white snow crossing outside the window still bearing the only conceivable light. It was impossible to make out much among the shadow, but Marcellus had appropriated the room for his own purposes enough to coordinate it even in the dark. He silently lit an oil lamp mounted on the wall to bring the woman's surroundings into focus. A glass and bottle of wine were set neatly upon the room's dresser, and casually the lord made his way towards them to pour a glass. Then, leaning against the wall, he ushered for Merida to take a seat. "Well," he asked, "what is it you want of me?"

 

[Queen Rai]

"For a moment, yes, m'lady."


Calliope felt the corners of her mouth pull up into a small smile as she looked up at him, following the man as he lead her into his quarters. Unable to hold back, before the door closed behind them, the assassin shot a nasty I-told-you-so sort of look at the servant, who let out a loud, frustrated sigh as the door clicked shut.


"Well, what is it you want of me?"


"You've asked me that already." the woman smirked as she surveyed the room, trying to locate anything that was sharp enough to either slit the man's throat or gauge his heart. She then let herself look around for a place to sit. For a moment, she considered the comfortable looking armchair in the corner of the room, but soon decided on the bed. She delicately seated herself at the foot of the mattress before letting her gaze settle on the man across from her. Her eyes flickered between the half-filled glass in the man's hand and the bottle of wine beside him, and she let out a sigh. She refused to let herself look him in the eye, as she'd discovered that made her feel even worse about what she was doing. She had never felt so guilty about lying to someone.


"I am simply here to talk." she smiled, sweeping her hair over a shoulder. She glanced at the bottle of wine again, and asked, "Do you have another glass, by chance?"

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

A smirk crossed Marcellus' face as he brought the wine glass to his lips. "Sharp, I see," he said, brushing aside black bangs. "Oh? A glass?" He approached the bed and turned towards its nightstand, sweeping open a drawer and removing a crystalline wine glass. Soon it was filled near half-way with the bitter red liquid, and Marcellus delicately placed the glass between his guest's accepting hands. For a moment after handing Merida the glass, he was nearly tempted to sit beside her on the bed, to gaze into her eyes and find the true point of her visit. Her skin was also so soft . . . so delicate . . . so pure. He was soon gazing directly into her eyes, blue upon red.


"The storm," he began impromptu, "does it hinder your plans much?"

 

[Queen Rai]

Calliope drew the glass to her mouth, sipping the obviously expensive wine with much more grace than she had earlier in the evening. She glanced down at the glass as she pulled it from her lips, watching the red liquid ripple with as she did. She glanced up at the man again, her eyes meeting his. For a split second, she knew that she should look away...but before she knew it, she was captivated. Caught under the strange spell that no other man had ever been able to cast upon his. The vibrant blue eyes seemed to stare right into her, as if he was stealing all of her deepest secrets. She blinked, tilting her head slightly. Thankfully, the man spoke up, snapping the woman out of her trance. She brought her glass up to her lips once more, but nearly choked at what he said.


"The storm, does it hinder your plans much?"


After forcing the sip of wine down (and thankfully not sputtering it all over the man), the woman took a moment to recollect herself. The way he'd said the words...was he on to her? Could he see right through her lies?


"Not really." she smiled. "In fact, I think that this storm is quite a good thing...in a way."

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

She looked a little nervous. Then again, perhaps he was just too close.


He could get closer.


Marcellus placed a hand upon the soft mattress of the bed, leaning close over the woman before settling himself down, wine glass and all. They sat side by side, their shoulders nearly touching, and the sudden start of tension in the atmosphere brought a smile to the man's lips. He took a larger sip of the rich wine, audibly giving his consent for its taste.


"It is a good thing?" Marcellus asked, accordingly raising an eyebrow and turning his head towards Merida's. His breath reached her ear, and if he had drawn slightly closer, he would have been breathing down her neck. The scent of the woman's perfume also reached and pleased his sense of smell, gaining a deep inhale from him in reaction. He exhaled with equal pleasure, tickling Merida's ear more. "I have a feeling," he began anew, leaning back on the bed with his arm as support, "that you are one of the few, if not the only one, that could find these circumstances pleasurable."





Earlier that day he had been more reserved in speech, more formal and presenting before the woman. Now he was an inquisitor, and he was prepared to let loose the ties of formality in order to relieve his own suspicions. The lady Merida, the enchanting venomous beauty. Who was she?

 

[Queen Rai]

"It is a good thing?"


Calliope bit down on her lip as the man leaned over her, and then then lowered himself onto the mattress beside her. He was close enough so she could feel felt his warm breath running down her neck, making the fine hairs on her arms stand on end. The assassin allowed herself to turn slightly to face him more fully. She propped her leg up slightly as she turned, taking another swig of her wine and she did. She gently set the emptied glass on the floor at her feet before leaning a bit closer to her target.


"...that you are one of the few, if not the only one, that could find these circumstances pleasurable."


The woman shivered slightly at the man's tone, almost forgetting (again) about the task at hand. But she didn't. She couldn't. Calliope gently trailed the tip of her index finger up the man's arms, drawing invisible designs from his shoulder down the the middle of his bicep as she inched even closer to him.


"Well, even if they aren't..." she began, her finger gliding down to his hand. She gently laced her fingers through his, feeling her heartbeat pick up as she did say, and purred into his ear, "...perhaps we could change that?"

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

Marcellus could feel his breath quickening as he panted through the mouth, taking a firmer grip of the woman's fingers intertwined in his own, and turning sharply to look at her. He leveled his face with hers, so close that her warm breath helped beat back the perspiration cooling his brow. His chest was burning and the palms of his hands suddenly felt moist, helping him to embrace the feeling that he couldn't leave his perch. The woman's eyes were piercing his soul, looking into the deepest and darkest crypts of his heart as his panting continued, as his face was drawn ever closer to the woman's. He threw those eyes a murderous glare and gripped the woman's shoulder, beginning to lose control, beginning to slip into Lust's clutch, beginning to brush his lips against hers.


He gave in.


The pair were thrown down onto the cool sheets of the bed, Marcellus' body gripping Merida's tightly. His eyes were intent on her own, and the constant pounding in his chest accentuated his feelings and hammered his ears. His head began to droop, falling closer to the woman's . . . falling closer to his bane. Their mouths were connected.


All at once, a voice hammered in Marcellus' head, crying out in pain, in anguish, cursing the very name of god as they felt their body rendered apart.


Marcellus' shut eyes flew open from their state of lustful pleasure, the shocking voice accompanied by images in his head the man could never forget. His arms and mouth left Merida's body as he threw himself from the bed, landing on his feet barely before slipping to the floor. He was panting heavier than ever; beads of sweat trickled from his brow to his lips. His eyes groped the room for something, anything, to cool his head. He burned all over and his limbs felt sore. The wine came into view, bringing him to his feet with a start. Speedily he snatched his wine glass and filled it to the brim anew, proceeding to chug the liquid down with all of his might. The glass was soon finished off and cast aside to the floor, leaving Marcellus to stumble backwards to the wall and slip to his haunches. He continued to pant, not daring to look up at Merida still stranded on the bed. His lips trembled as he whispered "No . . . no . . . no . . . "

 

[Queen Rai]

Calliope let out a short gasp as the two flopped down onto the bed, Marcellus embracing her with something she couldn't identify as lust or compassion. She stared up at him for a moment, and then she felt her heart sink. The way his hair fell into the vibrant eyes that stared at her so hungrily...this wasn't the first time she'd received such a stare, but why should this man be the only one to give her butterflies? She gingerly wove the fingers of one hand through his hair as he lowered his mouth closer to hers. She let her hand settle at the back of the lord's neck...and then...


Collision. Killer and victim caught in the most intense kiss of Calliope's life. The woman, hungry for more, kissed the man back tenderly...but it didn't last long. Marcellus had jumped up in a panic, almost as if he'd done something incredibly wrong. The assassin, shocked, sat up and watched as the man frantically searched the room. He eventually set eyes on the bottle of wine, refilled his glass, and then forced it down all within seconds. Calliope was stunned. What did she do wrong? The woman jumped slightly at the sound of Marcellus's empty wine glass shattering on the floor. Her eyes glimmered...the shards were sharp...sharp enough to kill.


"No . . . no . . . no . . . "


The woman immediately looked away from the broken glass and back to the man, cowering against the wall like a frightened animal. She felt a strange pain in her chest...sorrow? Regret? Sympathy? A mix of the three, it seemed. The assassin quietly stood up, biting her lip. Did she dare approach him?


"Marcellus, I..." she began quietly, taking a step towards him. Her eyes drifted back down to the glass for a moments, and then she let out a long sigh. She knew she was going to regret what she was about to say.


"Have I...have I done something wrong?" she asked quietly, looking at him. She reached out a hand, as if to touch him, but quickly withdrew it, holding it close to her chest. She sighed, and muttered, "I...I can leave, if that's what you want."


What was this? Did she actually feel bad enough to let an amazing opportunity slip right through her fingers? The man was obviously going to let himself get drunk, and the shattered glass on the floor would make a perfect weapon. She could easily slit his throat while he was passed out, and then slip out and tell Oscar that his master had a terrible hangover and to not disturb him.


It was perfect.


What. Was. She. Doing?

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

Marcellus gently rocked himself back and forth on his haunches, gripping his arms with ferocity as his eyes glared steadily at the floorboards before them. A small hiss and shiver escaped through his clenched teeth as he began rubbing his arms up and down, a fluid motion that only a cold man would perform. Was he cold, or was it just psychosomatic? The scream still rang in his ears, just as the images were still framed in his mind. Was this punishment? An ambiance of regret and inner hatred stirred his heart, but he dared not look up. Was this his fate, to be a tormented soul for all his life? He gripped his arms tighter, ceasing to rock on his haunches, shifting his clouded eyes to the shards of glass. Was it all because of father . . .


Merida's voice pierced a hole in the veil of self-torment and silence that plagued Marcellus, but her words were muffled, unintelligible. The lord attempted raising his head to see her face, to comprehend her and her words, only failing as his gaze remained locked to the floor. However, the soft melodic quality of her voice carried itself on through walls of mentality, groping for Marcellus. It slowly became clearer, more audible, as he loosened the clutch on his arms, as his breathing slowed to a more even pace.


Regret, punishment, hatred, despise: a cycle of emotion Marcellus experienced as a norm of his life. A plague.


Did he repent for his sins? There was no room for repentance in his life. Did he regret the actions of those sins . . . maybe so.


But Merida's body was an undeniable warmth and escape from the treacherous plague. Even now, Marcellus longed again for its touch, longed to gaze into those ruby eyes, but out of fear, he would not abide lust. Could he regret or hate himself for escaping, for finding such a radiant woman from among the filth of the masquerade? Or was it that even if he did not, the plague would ensure that he did? He lingered for a spell in silence, gaze still upon the floor and occasionally shifting to the broken glass.


The mental barrier dissolved, and Merida's voice broke through.


Marcellus could hear her words clearly now, and what she had said before also registered within him. The worried tone of her voice struck another hiss and pant from Marcellus, but he no longer felt too cold, and gently, slowly, he lifted his head to meet her eyes - raven black hair shrouding his face. Her face and tone showed sympathy, kindness even, yet with disdain did the lord look upon it. Pity, for me? he thought, a rueful sneer bending his mouth.


He rose to his feet, knees shaky, a hand placed against the wall for support as he met his full height. His robe was slipping from his figure slightly, revealing what toned muscles he possessed beneath, trailing on the floor by his feet and granting him a baggier physique. The blue of his eyes met with the woman's red, as Marcellus locked gazes pupil to pupil. Her nightly robe had also slipped a degree from her slender figure, inviting any man to approach and have a feel. Marcellus undoubtedly wished to close the distance between them again, but he held back with more restraint this time. After what had happened, the thought of questioning the woman escaped entirely from his mind, and more prominent thoughts and feelings entered in their stead. Merida's sympathy. Why, why would a woman feel any pity for a man like him? It made him bark a cold laugh as his face contorted into another sneer, his eyes adapting to a more menacing tone.


"What is this . . . pity?" the lord said, wrath inching up his throat. "As a woman of higher status, high enough to be here, wouldn't you know as much as any man who you speak to? who I am?"


His hands began to shake again, so Marcellus concealed them in the folds of his garment in the intent of dispelling physical signs of his condition. Inside he was still screaming and afraid, lost in a valley of self-torment.


"I, Marcellus Erebus Belphonse, 2nd in line to the Belphonse Empire's throne," he stated, his voice rising. "The raven. The black plague of London. Do you not know what I have done, what kind of man I am? Save . . . just save your sympathy." Marcellus choked on his voice, a tremulous sigh emitting from his mouth as he hid his face, turning away from Merida.

 

[Queen Rai]

"What is this . . . pity?"


Calliope's eye widened for a moment, slightly shocked by the man's tone. She looked him over for a moment, stunned by the way he'd reacted to her. The condescending bark of cold laughing, the way he sneered at her as if she was nothing but a stain on the rug...Calliope felt her mouth pull into a frown, and her eyebrows knit together as the man snarled at her.


"As a woman of higher status, high enough to be here, wouldn't you know as much as any man who you speak to? Who I am?"


Calliope stayed silent, her eyes flickering over to the glass as he spoke.


"I, Marcellus Erebus Belphonse, 2nd in line to the Belphonse Empire's throne,"





Her gaze returned to the man as his voice rose, and she felt her hands clasp at her chest in an almost defensive position...as if he was going to lash out at her.


"The raven. The black plague of London. Do you not know what I have done, what kind of man I am? Save . . . just save your sympathy."


As Marcellus turned away, Calliope let her gaze fall back onto the broken shards of glass. Now was her chance...she could lunge for the sharp makeshift weapon and stab him in the back in an instant. She was about to, but then she felt something stop her. A strange feeling in her chest...she didn't want to hurt him, he was obviously already in pain...


What was she doing?


"Alright, fine." she sighed, sitting back down at the foot of the bed. "I won't give you my sympathy if you don't want it. But, Marcellus Belphonse, I...I..."


She didn't know what she wanted to say. She felt her head lower, and then she mumbled in a barely audible voice, "I know how you feel..."


All of the people she killed? All of the children she left fatherless, all of the woman she left childless...how much pain she caused to not only the dead, but the living...all for what? Money?

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

Know how I feel?


Know how I feel?


Know how I feel?


Know how I feel?





The words echoed in Marcellus' head with vigor. Who in the world had ever said such a thing to him, and with such weight to their words? His head slumped with the weight of thought - he knew the girl could not be speaking arrogantly. To the utmost of her understanding she could relate to the beast that he was. Comforting? Not in the slightest.


"T-Then you also cast aside your very soul to appease Satan . . . hm?" Marcellus breathed hard, struggling for some air. His body needed to calm down . . .


A new longing crept into Marcellus' mind, a sudden feeling that forced his gaze upon Merida anew. He wished to know who the woman was, like she were an entirely different person altogether, masked by lies as he was himself. And how was that possible? to dig deeper and deeper into her soul, to find what secrets she might possess? Her words once again resonated in his head, the words "I know how you feel . . . "


"No," Marcellus said defiantly, stalking towards the woman. "You don't know how I feel."





His hand had immediately gripped around the woman's neck while his other undid the folds of her robe, dropping them to the floor. Once more, their faces were mere inches from one another, the warmth of their bodies colliding.


"Tell me," the lord whispered, "prove it to me . . . "

 

[Queen Rai]

"T-Then you also cast aside your very soul to appease Satan . . . hm?"


Calliope didn't know how to respond to that. She bit her lip into a small frown as she crossed her legs. She almost considered making a bad joke about how she had no soul, but decided that it was probably a bit much for the situation. She ran her fingers, trying to think of something to say when Marcellus began to step towards her.


"No..."


Calliope's expression fell into shock once again as the man drew closer.


"You don't know how I feel."


Calliope felt the man's warm palm press against her throat, his fingers coiling around her neck as her robe dropped to the floor. She could feel Marcellus get closer, but she couldn't tear her gaze from his eyes that were again staring at her with a unique sort of hunger.


"Tell me, prove it to me . . . "


Calliope stared up at him, his face close enough so she could smell the wine on his breath. She allowed herself to lose herself in his eyes...those vibrant blue eyes that she'd tried not to stare into all night. She could feel the knot in her stomach tighten, and she gentle reached up to touch the man's face. The woman exhaled softly, and then placed her hand at the back of the man's neck before pulling him even closer.


"Need I tell you?" she whispered against his mouth.

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

The woman's eyes absorbed Marcellus' vision entirely. There was nothing there but him and those eyes . . . so deadly, yet beautiful, so . . . venomous. They drew closer to his own, deepening as they widened, filling him with a churn of butterflies. And the woman's breath, suddenly so close and mingling with his own, splaying over his lips. Something else then touched his mouth, equally warm as the breath, but far more tender. It urged him to press back against it and make the warmth mutual, to mix more and more with the sweet touch that he felt. Merida's eyes were so close now, but Marcellus found he could no longer stand their stare. He dropped his eyes, closing them. He did not need to see to know she was there; he did not need to see to feel the warmth only she produced. They could be closer now, tighter still, and warmer . . .


"Enlighten me," Marcellus whispered in reply against Merida's lips, pushing them closer. "I want . . . no, yearn to know. What," he rubbed his finger down her chest before bringing it back up, stopping it at her collarbone, "plagues thee? What is your . . . poison . . . " His hand fell down her chest again, resting just below her hip, tickling the woman's leg with passion.

 

[Queen Rai]

"I want . . . no, yearn to know. What plagues thee? What is your . . . poison . . . "


Calliope shuddered as his hand traveled up and down her body, and she couldn't help but let out a small whimper. Her eyes remained shut at she leaned up, almost playfully nibbling at his bottom lip. The woman slipped her hand from the back of the mans neck and let the tips of her fingers trace down his back. It had only then processed in her mind that the man had went unanswered...but what could she say? Calliope felt her hand move to the man's chest, as she mumbled, "Shall I show you?"


(super short! super sorry! wrote this on an iPod Dx)

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

(frickin' bump 'coz I don't want this to get locked.)

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

(burmp. yeush. i will still posht on dis. yeush . . . )