Chapter Two: Emerald Fire

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **

The streets were empty – dark –and cold. The silence was so intense it was deafening. She made no sound as she hurried determinedly along the wooden sidewalk. Ahead of her a tall man dressed completely in black, wearing a dark Stetson, walked quickly towards his destination. He slipped agilely around the street lamps that would reveal his presence. But she didn’t need to see him; she already knew where he was going.

He turned a corner, his indistinct outline disappearing from view. She quickened her pace to catch up to him. Turning at the corner, she caught sight of his shadowy figure standing before the doors of an old two-story brick building with a wrought-iron balcony. He glanced over his shoulder, not noticing her there on the sidewalk, before he slipped inside.

She hastened after him and opened the large double doors. Inside was almost as dark as outside; the only light came from an old, dusty chandelier that swayed spookily above her. Scanning the darkness, she spotted movement back towards a hall. She followed him, but lost him again as he entered one of the rooms. She reached the door and heard the lock snick closed.

She could hear voices through the door– men’s voices. She kicked the door, once, twice, knowing it would not budge, but hating its presence. When jets of pain shot up her leg she stopped and sank to the floor. Crossing her arms, she stared straight ahead, her mind full of contempt. In her anger it took her a moment to notice the strange design of the door she had been trying to destroy.

It was made, not of wood, but of glass. Though it was impossible to see through because of the emerald fire that swirled inside. As she gazed at the entrancing flames she saw images flickering in the whirl of green. One moment, two small boys happily smiled at her, then the children began to sob as an unseen force pulled them apart. A teenage boy stood over a man, pointing a gun at his chest, the boy’s hand shaking as he pulled the trigger. Then a young man and woman wrapped in each others embrace so closely together entwined they became one. Wind swirled in the glass door, blowing the scene away to be replaced by another. The same man, down on his knees now, held the woman limp in his arms as he cried.

Suddenly the door swung open and he was standing there, looking angry. The images in the door forgotten, she stood.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said in a deadly whisper.

“Neither should you,” she shot back in the same tone.

“I have to be here. I told you that.”

“Why? What are you doing that is so important?”

“I can’t tell you, you wouldn’t understand.”

“I would understand if you would tell me what’s going on. I thought we trusted each other. Why are you doing this to me? I want to help.”

He shook his head. “I won’t let you.” He walked past her towards the end of the hall. She followed him, up a flight of stairs, down one hall and then another, finally ending up in a bedroom. A rosy light came from the small fire already burning in the hearth, which did not seem to be giving off any heat. He sat on the bed and put his head in his hands.

“Why are you running from me?” She asked, kneeling down beside him. She gently brushed her hand through his hair.

“If you knew everything about me, you wouldn’t be here.” His voice was muffled but full of anguish.

“Yes I would,” she said, defiant. “No matter what you do or have done.”

“You can’t say that!” he lashed out, shoving her hand away. “You don’t know anything about me!”

“Then tell me!” she cried. “Tell me everything. Joseph, let me help you!”

“No, Crys, I can’t.”

“Please!”

He stood, pulling her up with him. His hands felt like ice. She rubbed them, trying to transfer her warmth, but he pulled them from her grasp. Lifting her chin, he forced her to look at him. As she gazed into his dark green eyes, it did not surprise her to realize they were swirling with the same fire she’d seen in the door.“You’re the only one that can help me,” he answered. His jaw muscles contracted as if he was holding something back. “But it would hurt you, and I can’t bear to hurt you.”

He released her and with a final glance, he walked out of the room.

“No! Come back!” She ran out of the room and down the endless labyrinth of halls– but he was gone.

Running into complete darkness and afraid to move she stopped and collapsed, helpless. Looking around all she could see was solid black before her eyes. Then out of nowhere a glass door, full of green fire, appeared.

Captivated once more, she slowly rose to her feet and stepped towards it. The images danced in front of her, flashing from one to another much faster than before. Extending her hand, she grasped the golden, emerald encrusted knob. It was warm to the touch. The door swung open. Inside, the same fire engulfed the entire room. The flames licked up the walls and covered the floor like grass, but it did not burn.

Stepping into the room, she felt the fire warm her body inside and out. Her arms tingled with the pleasant sensation; she closed her eyes soaking up the calm that enveloped her. She felt protected, happy, loved.

After a long moment she opened her eyes. The flames became alive, forming shapes that created life sized pictures. The same two boys she’d seen before, one a little taller than the other, ran around her, oblivious to her presence as they joyfully played tag. Their laughter reverberated around the room, filling her with joy. Slowly they faded back into fire. A new scene played before her: The boys sat at the feet of a tall man, who undoubtedly was their father, listening as he read to them. The man’s deep voice filled the room just as the children’s laughter had: “‘That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life . . . For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son . . .’”

The fire flared erasing the image. A beautiful slender woman knelt beside a bed with the two boys next to her, all three heads bowed in prayer. “Now I lay me down to sleep . . . I pray to God my soul to keep . . .” Their words blended together in quiet unison.

The scenes continued, a carefree childhood playing out in front of her. Their happiness consumed her, and she felt like a child again. Then the room became very cold and she felt afraid. Horrific screams echoed off the walls. The flames leaped up so that she couldn’t see what was going on. She felt a gnawing dread, and then everything stopped. Two little boys were sobbing on the ground.

From then on the warmth left her to be replaced by a cold loneliness and fear. The scenes were no longer clear, but flashing images of a child fighting against the world. The more time that passed the more cold and empty she felt. She witnessed one of the boys– no more than twelve– shoot a man dead. She no longer felt anything but numbness, interrupted only by savage bursts of fury.

Once more the fire visions changed their pace, but also their appearance, until they were a blur. She could only make out the silhouettes of a man and a woman, speaking indistinguishable words. Sometimes their tones soft, other times raised in anger, but slowly she felt more alive, more human .

The two blurs became one, and she began to feel the way she felt before the tragedies– happy.

Without warning it stopped. She glimpsed the emerald figures– suddenly completely clear, the man held the woman’s limp body as he cried– then everything went dark. All she felt was horrible anguish, and sickening guilt.

Unable to bear the weight of the pain she let out a terrible scream and dropped to the floor.

“Joseph!”

“Shhh, Crys, I’m here. It’s alright,” he appeared suddenly, kneeling beside her.

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” he whispered. “It’s dangerous here.”

“But– but where are we?”

“My memories,” he said, his voice void of emotion. “And fears.”

“You mean . . . the man and woman . . .”

“There’s no time. We have to go.”

He lifted her into his arms and hurried through the darkness towards the glass door. They were almost to it when a giant beast of green flames materialized, rushing at them at an alarming speed. She screamed as its fiery claw tore at her arm, burning and cutting her as she was pulled from Joseph’s grasp. Joseph jerked her away from the beast’s second attack and ran for the door. He pulled it open and pushed her out as the beast once again charged.

“Joseph!”

His emerald eyes glinted for only a moment as he turned toward the sound of her voice, and she saw the fire beast in his eyes, as well as the one speeding at him. She could hear the screech of his memories erupting from the creature. Attacking from the inside and out. “Go!” he shouted.

The door slammed shut.

“No!” she shrieked. Throwing herself against the door, she pushed with all her might, but it wouldn’t budge. “No, please!”

The fire in the door began to flicker and dim as she continued to try and open it. Then abruptly the deep emerald flames extinguished. For the first time she could see clearly through the door. Joseph lay limp on the floor-- his clothes shredded beyond recognition– blood seeped from his bare chest.

“Joseph!”

*******

“Pumpkin– pumpkin, wake up!”

“Joseph!”

“Pumpkin! Wake up, please!”

Crystal was jerked awake as Liza roughly shook her. Without hesitation she threw herself into her maid servants waiting arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

“Shhh, baby girl, i’s alrigh,’ i’ was jus’ a dream. I’s alrigh.’” Liza soothingly stroked her hair. Crystal tried to control herself but her body trembled with choking sobs; she clung to Liza like a lifeline, afraid the dream would reclaim her if she loosened her grip. She held onto the sound of her comforting nickname spoken by her maid’s familiar voice.

It was a long time before Crystal regained her composure. Her breath came in shuddering gasps; her eyes were red and swollen. Liza continued to murmur calming words into her ear. She closed her eyes resting her head on Liza’s shoulder. She could still see Joseph’s green eyes in her mind, the same eyes as the stranger she’d met earlier that night. It was too much for her to take in at once.

When she’d finally quieted, Liza gently pressed her back down to the bed, brushing the hair from her tear stained face.

“Tell Liza ‘bout your dream, it’a make ya feel betta.”

“No . . . no, I don’t want to talk about it,” Crystal replied her voice unsteady.

“I’s alrigh,’ baby, we don’ have ta talk. You jus’ go on back ta sleep den.”

Liza made to rise from the bed, but Crystal caught her by the arm.

“Stay with me tonight, Liza, please?”

“Don’ worry, chil,’ I ain’ goin’ nowhere’s if you don’ wan’ me ta.”

Liza laid down beside her and wrapped her arms comfortingly around her. Crystal listened to the sound of her own quiet sniffs and hiccups, barely aware of where they came from. You’re the only one that can help me. But it would hurt you, and I can’t bear to hurt you. Why was she dreaming of a man she met only hours ago? How could she help him? She didn’t even know him. Her mind raced, thoughts jumping in and out of her head like frogs, and she was unable to catch any of them.

Pulling the covers up to her chin she stared across the dark bedchamber, Liza’s soft snores a comfort to her shaken emotions. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t stop thinking about the man and the anguish in his eyes.

*******

Please continue with the next chapter, "Chapter Three: Dresses"