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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1348840-At-the-Eye-of-the-Storm-Chapters-4--5
Rated: ASR · Chapter · Fantasy · #1348840
The story develops further... it's time to find out what happened to Stephan.
The next installment in my book... if you haven't read my other installments, please do so... or read on, and let your imagination do the rest of the work. Any advice would be a great help

                                                          *****

                                                          Four

She shouldn’t just leave him there: she should call an ambulance, ring the police, and tell them every detail she had found. But somehow, it just didn’t seem right. Nature had, in its own way, taken him away. He belonged to the Earth now, and she had no right to endeavour against its strange ways. So, as thoughtless as it seemed, she left his body there on the curb, hoping that it would be discovered before it rotted. She gave him one last passing glance: he probably had a girlfriend, or maybe even a wife and kids. Why had he been taken? Did he deserve this merciless death?
         Alone. There was nobody to be seen anywhere she looked. She did not bother to head back home after she had left the young man: all that remained there were bad memories. Perhaps the rest of her life sprouted from this moment – perhaps she had sacrificed the rest of her life by coming this way. No matter what happened, she had made her choice now, and she was going to stick by it.
         The wind forced its way past her as she walked, quite foolishly, straight at it. She didn’t know why: she just felt like it, which was a good enough reason for her. The hail, which had now replaced the snow, was now ricocheting off the walls of the many houses around her. Unable to look into it, she covered her face and walked forward. Sadie was certain no cars would be out to threaten her safety.

                                                          *****

         Lonely, tired, hungry. Sadie had walked, against the weather, for two hours: her legs could take it no more. She fell, exhausted, under the cover of a large apple tree. Sadie knew this place – it was near her old home, just 2 miles away from where she had left the body of that poor, lifeless man. She had expected that. How could she get anywhere with the weather beating so hard against her? It would be stupid to carry on. She didn’t have a clue where she was going either – but she believed that she would find her way in life eventually.
         She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had last come this way – it may have been years - but she still knew her way around. This place had stuck in her mind, and that wasn’t a bad thing. All her good memories resonated from this place, and she just wanted to use them as a blanket to comfort herself. But in the harshness around her, that was hard. So, she carried on walking to a place she didn’t know.
         How could she go on? There was no point. The grey sky frowned upon her like she was an outcast, and threw hail in her eyes. She wasn’t aware that she had arrived at the place she was destined for. She didn’t know until she saw the police tape that it was where she wanted to be.
         She didn’t even remember how she got here, or how she knew the way: it must have been from the news article. Because she was standing outside the house of the abducted boy. He was the same age as her, according to the news bulletin, and was dying from cancer. He didn’t deserve that. He should have been allowed to live out the last days of his life in peace. She hated whoever had taken him, and wished them a painful death. But it would not change anything. Her thoughts alone could not change anything.
         She ignored the police tape. Why shouldn’t she enter? She had as much of a right as anyone else to know what had happened. As she stepped through the tape, her eyes were instantly drawn to a spot on the grass - it seemed as if the snow had melted from the ground and left the shape of a boy lying on the grass. And inside was the strangest little item she had ever seen – a heart made of ice.  Drawn to it like a magpie to gold, she picked it up and put it in her pocket. She didn’t notice that no hail was falling on her till she saw the trees rustle, but felt no wind. It was then that it suddenly struck her; she was at the eye of the storm.
         Almost too suddenly for comprehension, a gust of powder snow blew through the tranquillity and fell to the ground. Then again. Then again. Suddenly, inside this small bubble, a typhoon of snow was racing towards the ground, forcing Sadie to take cover. Yet, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. And when she looked, there was a boy standing at the centre of the grass patch, formed perfectly out of ice.
         He reached out towards Sadie, and as her eyes widened, his lip curved.



                                                          Five

         As he stared intently at her, his manic stare became fixed. He opened his fist and held it flat out in front of him, not taking his eyes off Sadie. His features, though made entirely of ice, flexed and moved as gracefully as a human’s skin would. He was a living ice sculpture; the facial and body features were perfect to the last detail, even the eyes, which glistened softly, as if calling to her like the snow that had bounced off her glass that very morning. She didn’t want to admit it to herself – it scared her – but something deep inside her told her that he was that ice, he was that snow, and he rode those winds.
         He looked expectantly at her. Why, she had no idea. But as she looked, softly now, into his eyes, she felt as though his expression softened as well. What was it he wanted of her, it seemed, so desperately? He took a step forwards then grabbed Sadie’s hand.  Soothingly warm, then spine-chillingly cold, his hand covered hers in a layer of ice; she cried out in pain, as the blood in her hand became frozen.
         Finally, he moved his head towards her, placing his lips near her ear.
         “You have something of mine…” he whispered slowly, sending a blast of cold air down her ear. She shuddered, and not because it was cold – she knew she was in the presence of a murderer. It must have been him that had killed those people in their places, allowing them no chance of survival. Her back shivered when she realised what may happen if she did not hand over what he wanted, what she realised she had – the icy heart that lay melting in her pocket. Here, in front of her, stood not a killer. Here, in front of her, stood not a murderer. Worse then these, in front of her, stood a monster. And she held his cold, icy heart. And he wanted it back. And he was willing to kill.
         “It’s really simple,” he told her quietly. “Just reach inside your pocket and take it out. Then hand it to me. I won’t hurt you.”
         “My…hand…!” she managed to gasp, despite the icy pain that was crippling her. He let go, allowing her to fall backwards on to the hard ground behind her. Amazingly, when she looked at her hand, there was no damage or scar – even the bitter cold had left, and was now replaced with pins and needles. He looked menacingly at her pocket, anticipating what lay inside. She always trusted her instincts, and they told her now that she must try to keep it from him – even at risk of her own life. She looked behind to see the vortex of ice and wind that made the monster standing beside her. Just feet away from her was a haven, harsh, bitter and unbearable as it was. If she could get into that storm again, and find her way home, she could lose him – lose him in the oblivion.
         “You wouldn’t dare,” he growled, looking hungry: hungry for death. “You wouldn’t hand yourself over to my wrath now, would you?” She thought she knew what he was talking about – his face was incandescent with the flames of anger – she guessed that he was making an idle threat. She knew he was powerful, but what he was suggesting: it was impossible. Sadie took one last look at the face of the monster, then leapt into the storm. The snow felt new on her skin, greeting her openly.
         She took small steps, battling against the wind rushing past her. It seemed so powerful – much more so then before. Tired from the struggle, she collapsed on the floor. With no warning, hail stones, harder than rock, fell from the sky, denting the snow that surrounded her on the floor. The pain was almost too much to bear; she realised then that the monster had not made an empty threat – he controlled the storm, and she was safe nowhere until the heart was in his possession. So, as fast as her arms and legs would allow her, she crawled back to him.
      The hail crashed around her and struck her with its rock hardness and cold, causing her to fall and flail in the snow. The sheer power was overwhelming, and withstanding it was almost impossible. He had power over her – that, she had already found out, to her cost. But she also had power over him: he needed the heart from her, and she had no plans of giving it back, despite the pain he was subjecting upon her. She knew that, if he wanted it that desperately, it had to important – and it was probably best to keep it from him.
        When she arrived at last beside his feet, he looked at her triumphantly, smiling slightly. “I’ll give you one last chance,” he told her, his voice fierce though his face was clam. “Give me what is mine!” She reached into her pocket and held the heart, feeling its smooth edges. And as she did so, she watched the murderer as his eyes closed in delight. Pulling it out of her pocket – she noticed the greedy look on his face – she held it out in front of her. Then, gripping it firmly, she snapped it cleanly into two pieces, watching as he doubled over in agony, then fell to the floor in his pain, in the exact same way as she dropped his broken heart to the floor.
          He writhed and squirmed on the floor, gasping for breath, as water leaked from the place in his chest where there should have been a heart. Then, moment s later, something happened which made her regret ever touching the heart – his mouth opened, and from it came one of the loudest, blood curdling screams she had ever heard in her life. And it wasn’t just a cry of physical pain – she could see the anguish on his face, as if something buried deep inside his mind had now been brought back to the surface, and it pained him more than anything in his life. She believed, more than ever now, that his emotions and feelings were not kept in his head – but in the crystal ice heart that lay in pieces on the floor. Sadie wanted so much to reach out and comfort him, and save him from the pain she knew was inevitable. But even as she did this, she saw once again the heart on the floor, and knew something was happening – the two separate pieces no longer lay apart. Instead, the ice on the floor was knitting the two pieces together again, making them one. It took only seconds, but it was gracefully done – and soon, the heart was whole again, only rough where the pieces had joined. She didn’t need to look up and see the monster’s furious face to know that she was in a lot of trouble. But she looked up anyway, in the slightest hope that he may have forgiven. This was to be in vain – despite his icy features, she could tell only too well that his face was distorted with anger, and he was not going to let her get away with what she had just done. And for once, she thought he may have been justified in his actions, should he decide to end her life.
        She didn’t fear him anymore – she had resigned to the fact that she may not make it out of this situation alive. She had already suffered pain – what did it matter that she may suffer a little more? She refused to be stricken by fear in what may have been her last moments – so she stood up and stared, unblinkingly, into his cold eyes.
      “What did you do to me?” he started - his voice was quavering as he struggled to control it. “It was humiliating. You saw, didn’t you? You saw the pain in my eyes. My innermost feelings. My master locked them away from me for good reason. They were not yours to look into!” She looked awkwardly at the floor. He was a murderer, a monster, yet his words still moved her to guilt. Sadie allowed a tear to fall from her eye, and it was not out of fear for her life; nor was it for the guilt she felt – it was because she recognised his voice from a time she could barely remember – a time when everything was harmonious. His heart locked his memories away from him, and she pitied him for this.
        “All I wanted from you was that heart!” he screamed, rage overwhelming him suddenly, bringing her back to reality – if this was real – and reminded her that he would never feel for her the compassion she had felt just moments ago. “I didn’t want to hurt you!” he began frantically, losing all control over himself. “But death is not a worthy punishment for your actions!”
        Now, Sadie gasped as his words came to an end. She realised that his powers far outweighed anything she could do now, but still, she felt rebellious in the face of suffering. He reached out an arm and called for the violent cold of the snow, the bitterness of the wind, and the power of the eternal storm. Directing it at her, he put all his power and might into what he was about to do – something the world had cruelly forced upon him.
        She felt an undeniable pain in her right arm, and clutched it instantly, only to feel the cold of the storm. She dared herself – as she had done on the doorstep of her home – to do the unwise. She looked down at her arm, and saw that snow, like crystal, had encrusted her arm. Despite this, bone chilling cold was not what she felt – all that she could sense was a burning agony; it felt as if her arm was slowly dissolving into the air. He looked manically at her, grinning widely. “You shall join me!” he screamed, still grinning. “Then you too shall feel my pain!” But even as he said this, the ice that had encrusted her arm was melting. And with the pain gone, she felt radiant. She felt that she had power. Power to stand up against the storm.
Looking directly into the contorting face of the monster that stood in front of her, she took a small pace forwards, careful not to slip on the ice around her feet. The ice-man, still furious and full of rage, called once again upon the storm to fight his battle. But, no matter how harsh or cold the ice was, when it hit Sadie’s face, it simply melted – and he could not explain why. In total honesty, neither could she – but then, at that moment, she felt more alive than any other time in her entire life.
        Finally, after many progressing paces, she stood directly in front of him. She stared squarely into his eyes, and saw the tiredness in his face. After contemplating what she saw for a moment or two, she reached out her arm and put it on his shoulder. As she did this, he let out a soft sob and fell to his knees.
        “You’re not dead!” he muttered under his breath, almost silently. “I cannot stand up to the power of the orb!” he watched as Sadie bent down to his level. “You’re not dead!” he told her, in an almost accusing tone. On hearing this, Sadie stroked his smooth head with her delicate hands.
        “Neither are you, Stephan.”
        As he looked back at her, completely dumb-struck, he dispersed into tiny flakes of snow, and was gone – gone with the wind. And his small, icy, patch-work heart still lay on the ground beside her.

                                                        *****

Thank you for reading... I will add the next installment as soon as I can. Any advice would be really helpful. Thank you!
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1348840-At-the-Eye-of-the-Storm-Chapters-4--5