Post by Eden Morgan on May 28, 2014 23:20:40 GMT -5
Of all the sins, it could be argued that none is greater than lust. None of the others destroys the soul so efficiently. Lust snatches you up and drags you into a deep and dark abyss of corruption. Once you're in, there's no escaping it. The hole just keeps getting deeper and deeper, and you sink lower and lower.
Lust is the greatest of all the impurities, and the hardest to erase. Nothing satisfies it, at least not for long. Nothing can move it. It may seemingly disappear for a moment, but it's still there, just burrowed down deeper than it ever was, entrenching itself further and digging its hooks in until it rears its head once more. Other sins bind us in chains, steel chains that may, with enough force, be broken. Circumstance could do the breaking for us. But lust? The chains of lust are forged of another material, one that constantly renews itself, one that never dies and never breaks. Lust is a slowly smoldering fire with the hottest flame that burns us even into old age.
And when you die, if you are one who was consumed with or by lust, you die without penance. What possible sacrifice could you make to atone for that one sin? For the sin of greed, there's charity. For envy or pride, there's humility. For wrath, peace; gluttony, abstinence; sloth, industry. For all of these sins, there is a means of atonement, a way to “make up” for the wrongs done. But lust?
You're lying on your deathbed, having lived a life of excess where you continually gave way to your passions, whatever they may have been... what penance could possibly be done by the impure? Anything that could be planned or initiated is only a ruse, because deep down, that lust still resides, its hooks still deep within. And in the dark of the night, those memories comfort you, even when you don't want them to. Even though you, perhaps, know it was wrong, you get a little thrill from the memories of all that was accomplished in the name of that one sin. To say afterward that you've “changed”, that you're “born again” is the biggest lie of them all, and the most insulting.
Sacrilege on top of sacrilege.
A playground for demons.
She hears his heavy sigh before she feels the bench shift as he sits down. He leans against the unforgiving back, stretching his legs out before him and crossing them at the ankles, messing up the line of his pristine pressed pants. The two of them sit in silence, both staring up at the dark sky. Lightning flashes across, leaving cracks everywhere it touches in the air above them. Eden leans forward, letting her legs swing over the edge of the bench, her toes barely dragging through the grass.
“You know the end's coming, right?”
She responds with a sigh of her own.
“I know.”
He shakes his head, expression baffled.
“Mind explaining, if you know this, which I know you do because you just asked yourself that, why you've put Colin, Spyder, and Zane through what you have the past few days?”
Eden shrugs.
“I needed time.”
“You haven't said a word to them since the show. You got back to the cabin and locked yourself in your room. Barely come out. They think you've regressed, and can you blame them?”
Eden looks down as she points her toes, tracing a blade of grass with one toe, the nail painted a bright and sparkly purple.
“I needed time,” she repeats, “to think. About what happened at the show, the match-”
He snorts.
“You know that wasn't what it seemed. Dragon wanted to get to you and you let him. If you want to blame someone for what happened you have no further to look than yourself.”
Eden rolls her eyes.
“I know--”
“I know you know, because I know,” he says, two particularly nasty flashes of light snaking across the sky and leaving large cracks. Eden stares up at the sky breaking apart before her eyes, her expression regretful.
“Sometimes I wish I could just stay here. Never go back.”
He drapes an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side.
“That's not true. You'd miss me too much. I mean the real me.”
Eden shakes her head.
“Not like I'd see you anyway. You're dead.”
Silence stretches once more, lightning streaking through the sky and illuminating everything beneath just before it all starts to fade.
“Why don't you look again?” he says, sliding a finger under her chin and turning her head so that she is looking up at him. Her eyes widen and she gives a small gasp.
“Travis? How--”
He covers her mouth with a finger, giving her a smile.
“Let's just say you're the most stubborn woman I have ever met. Even when everything is falling apart, you still won't even listen to yourself. Your guilt forced you to see Ryan with you, but it's always been me. Well, sort of,” he amends, looking around at the quickly fading surroundings. He turns back to her, clasping his hands to either side of her head.
“Listen to me, Edie. You have to let it go. Let him go. Let it all go. If you want any chance at a normal life, let it--”
Eden opens her eyes, taking a moment to focus on the lamp beside her bed. She sits up slowly, her mind unusually quiet. She tentatively takes stock, noting with surprise the sense of renewal that seems to radiate from her. She gives a small smile as she stares at herself in the mirror, her image smiling back as she rises from the bed, crossing the room.
They had heard her moving around in her room, their conversation instantly quieting. It was more movement than she had exhibited in days, and none of the three was sure if it was a good or bad sign. Colin had just made up his mind to go check on her when they heard the sound of her door creaking open and then closed. Footsteps in the hall, and suddenly she stands before them, each of them surprised at her appearance even though outwardly little is revealed.
Eden stands before them much more pulled-together than anything they have seen in months. Black skinny pants, silver ballet flats, a silver sequined tank, and a thin dark purple sweater, her long black hair brushed completely smooth and hanging down her back, her eyes expertly lined, lipstick in place. They noticed her appearance, but it was more than that. She was more focused. More together, and that was more than evident. Colin rises from his seat, staring at her, shaking his head.
“Dare I ask what happened?” he asks, giving her an indulgent smile. Eden presses her lips together and smiles as if they're sharing a private joke.
“I'm not sure I could explain it, and if I did I don't know if you'd understand it. Or maybe you would,” she gives a little laugh and then hugs him.
“Thank you,” she whispers, saying more in those two words than if she had given some elaborate emotional speech. Colin hugs her tightly and then releases her, Eden turning to Spyder and Zane.
“I want to thank you both too. I don't know what would have happened to me without you three.”
Spyder simply inclines his head, watching her approvingly. Zane narrows his eyes.
“Why are you talking like you're leaving?” he asks suspiciously.
“Because I am. There's things I need to do, and I don't have much time. As much as I'd like to continue to hide away from the world here... I can't. Not anymore.”
Zane starts to say something, Eden moving over to him and taking one of his large hands in both of hers.
“I never thought I would ever say these words to you, but thank you, Zane. Thank you for having patience with me. For caring when you didn't have to. For looking out for me. I owe you more than I can repay. If you ever need me... don't you dare say you won't need me, you big jerk, because you never know,” she finishes, her look stern when he opens his mouth to retort, quickly closing it with a grin. He nods, holding back a chuckle.
“I'll keep that in mind, Edie.”
She watches him closely, looking for any sign of mockery and finding none. She nods, satisfied, and moves away.
“Chicago?” Spyder asks, even though he already knew the answer. Eden nods.
“Chicago,” she repeats, as a way of a statement.
The beeping of various machines no longer filled the room. In fact, the room was no longer the same one she had last visited. He had his own larger room now, a blessing and a curse. Eden knew it was PMN money paying for this room, and it was a kindness.. but it was so lonely. She steps closer to the bed, wondering at the frail-looking body of Mark Reznik. She looks away momentarily as she watches a machine breathe for him silently. Eden turns away, setting a clear vase full of bright and cheery sunflowers on the bedside table. She arranges them and then looks back at the bed, reaching down and squeezing Mark's hand once before walking out. One day she would be back, and she would talk to him. Try to use her voice as a means of guiding him away from whatever darkness had taken hold of him. But not now. She was still managing her own darkness.
She stops on her way out, spying a young man pushing a broom through the halls. Switching directions, she approaches him, the young man noticing her and looking around him to see if there was someone else she could be striding toward with such purpose. When she stops before him, he looks around nervously. Eden gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile.
“Hi. I'm Eden. And you are--?”
“S—Saul,” he stammers, licking his lips and standing straighter, clearing his throat. Eden continues to smile in a friendly manner.
“Saul. Pleasure to meet you,” she says, extending her hand. He takes it, shaking it a little more rapidly than he probably should. Eden delicately extracts her hand and cocks her head to the side, giving him a curious expression.
“I was wondering... my friend is in that room right over there,” she points, indicating the room she had just left out of, Saul nodding.
“Yeah. He's in a coma. I mean-- sorry,” he finishes gruffly, looking around awkwardly. Eden touches his arm lightly.
“It's okay, I noticed. But I was wondering... I left some sunflowers in there. Do you think you could make sure they stay fresh? And maybe get new ones for him a couple times a week? If he wakes up and no one's there... I'd like for him to have something bright and beautiful to look at and know he wasn't forgotten,” she finishes with a hopeful look. Saul looks around and starts to answer, Eden immediately digging into her purse and pulling out several bills, Saul's eyes growing round.
“Miss, that's--”
“I wouldn't ask you to use your own money, of course. This should more than cover it, and also something for your trouble,” she says, pressing the money into his hand. He stares transfixed at her beaming smile before shaking his head.
“Yeah sure, I'll fix him right up--”
Eden immediately releases his hand, nodding.
“That's great. Thanks,” she says, turning to walk away, then stopping as if she had forgotten something.
“One more thing, I'll be back here at least once a week. And you won't know when I'm coming. So-- I'm hoping you'll hold up your end of this... Saul...” she says, stepping closer to him. His eyes close as the heady fragrance of her perfume fills his nostrils, her body just barely brushing against his as she leans up to whisper in his ear.
“Because if you don't, you won't like the consequences,” she finishes, Saul flinching hard and staring at her in surprise. Eden gives him another smile and turns to walk away, leaving Saul wondering what had just happened.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Colin questions her as they slowly climb the stairs to her apartment. Eden doesn't answer. They reach her floor, Eden's eyes immediately darting toward her door. A heavy feeling settles over her, pushing against her, trying to drag her down, down, down... she nods her head, forcing her spine straight. Colin watches her, a concerned expression in place, but says nothing.
She approaches the door, key already in hand. She slides it in place, feeling the click more than hearing it. Eden pauses, her hand on the doorknob. Colin reaches over, placing a hand on her shoulder, his voice low.
“If you're not ready for this, no one would blame you. You don't have to do--”
Eden takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. She turns the doorknob, creaking the door open.
“Give me some time,” she whispers without turning back to him. Colin nods grimly, Eden entering and closing the door behind her. The feeling that she's intruding immediately assails her, an odd feeling to have in her own apartment, but there it was. She avoids looking at her living room, and especially the large windows there, instead moving to her bedroom. She walks slowly through it before moving back through the kitchen, careful to again avoid the living room. She stops before the guest bedroom that had been Ryan's room, her hand on the doorknob. Her fingers tighten around the knob and she starts to turn it before drawing away.
Not yet.
She backs away from the door, walking with determination to the living room and staring fully at the area she still saw in her nightmares. Even with sunlight streaming through the large windows, she still stood in his shadow. The darkness hung over her, but she stood before it and didn't drop. She counted that as a victory. If she couldn't erase it, she could learn to live with it. Eden takes a deep breath and picks up the tv control, more for something to do than out of any desire to watch television. The tv flashes to life, Eden randomly flipping through channels as she leans against the arm of the couch.
Flip, flip, flip, flip, fli--
Eden stops, flipping the channel back. She rises from the arm of the couch, her eyes narrowing as she watches what appears to be a raucous pool party in Sin City. Mickey Dragon's party. The hand containing the remote control tightens around it, her knuckles whitening as her hand shakes.
Colin jerks upright at the sudden smashing sound coming from the apartment. He reaches for the doorknob to enter just as the door swings inward. Eden steps out, a reassuring smile on her face, as over her shoulder the busted screen of the television is momentarily seen before the door closes, the two of them moving away from the apartment.
Eden breathes a tired sigh as she stares out at the city lights before her, glowing brightly against the night sky. Fresh from her second plane ride of the day, this one alone, her entire body almost ached. But she wasn't done. The cab pulls to a stop, Eden digging in her purse and handing the driver his fare along with a tip before climbing out. She glances up at the night sky, finding it empty and black. She had grown used to being away from everything, where the starlight was from actual stars and not from the bright lights of the skyscrapers. Her eyes fall on the large building in front of her, the Piercing Media Network logo scrawled across the face of it. Reaching into her purse once more, she draws out her PMN badge, studying it for a moment before approaching the door. Would it even still work?
Eden swipes the card through the mechanism, watching as a green light flashes and the lock clicks in the door. She gives a small smile, realizing she should have known neither Jet nor Travis would have disabled her card. She walks into the building, her steps echoing over the floors even in flats. She walks past the security guard at his kiosk, giving him a friendly wave as she disappears further into the building, approaching the bank of elevators and pressing the “up” button. The guard stares after her, eyes wide, and when the elevator doors open and she climbs inside, the last thing she sees before they close is him picking up the phone.
Eden swipes her badge again, punching in the number for the floor she requires, the elevator humming softly as it moves through the building. The next time the doors open, it's to reveal a hallway with a line of offices. Eden turns to the right, moving a short way before she stands in front of a door with her name emblazoned across it. She runs her badge through the scanner at the door once again, the door clicking open. The lights inside immediately come on, attached to motion sensors as they are. A smile creeps across her face as she sets eyes on her office, something she hadn't seen in months. A quick glance around the room shows that it had been kept clean, but nothing else had been touched in it. It was exactly as she had left it. Eden moves around the office, touching various mementos, looking at pictures on the wall and on shelves, finally making her way to the desk. She takes a seat in the chair, immediately flipping through the paperwork before her.
Jet Somers closes the door to the car, staring up at the PMN building before him, spying the light on so far up. He moves quickly for the door, sliding his badge and yanking the door open. He strides into the lobby, immediately met by a security guard.
“Is it her?” he asks without preamble. The guard looks at him with wide eyes, nodding his head and then stopping mid-nod to consider.
“It is! Well, I think so. Looked like her--” his voice trails off as Travis Pierce enters the building behind Jet, obviously having just arrived as well, his clothing just as thrown together as Jet's was.
“Is it her?” he asks, echoing Jet's previous question. Jet holds up a hand indicating the guard before them.
“He thinks it is, but then he's not sure,” he says with a mocking air, the guard shuffling from one foot to another.
“Well like I was saying, it looked like her, and she had her badge, went straight up to the offices.”
Travis looks over at Jet grimly.
“Could be a trick.”
Jet nods.
“Melanie. That did occur to me. She's been too quiet.”
The two of them ponder in silence for a moment, before moving toward the elevators, pressing the “up” button.
“Might as well get our answers from the source,” Jet mutters, waiting for what feels like the slowest elevator of his life.
A knock at the door draws her from her thoughts and the perusal of the papers before her.
“Come in,” she calls out, noticing the pause before the door pushes inward, admitting Jet and Travis. She doesn't even look up, spying their shocked expressions out of the corner of her eye. The door closes with a soft click behind them.
“Edie...” Jet lets out in an exhale, Eden finally raising her head. One corner of her mouth turns up as she watches the two of them, leaning back in her chair.
“Surprise. Guess who's home?”
Demons need a playground. Either you make one for them or they make one for themselves, but either way they will have one. Wouldn't it be better to have one of your own design than one you have no control over? I've learned that sometimes you need to hide from your demons... and sometimes you need to dance with them. My demons are tired of being wallflowers.
My whole life, I've tried to be the good girl. I've tried to do what was expected of me, to be what everyone else thought I should be. I learned how to be the perfect victim from my mother and her friends, along with what shoes go with what style. I'm not sure which was more valuable.
The playground of demons is sin. Of course I've sinned. Everyone sins. The difference is I always tried to cover mine up. Pretend they never happened or paint a pretty picture over them. And if I couldn't do that, well then, it wasn't my fault. There's that victim mentality again. Run from them and deny, deny, deny. No more.
I could say that the sin of “Lust” being attributed to our match is faulty. Surely some other sin would be a more appropriate choice. But I've come to realize that there couldn't be a better sin for us.
Jet. Who has a greater lust for power and control? Phrixus has referred to him in that diary of his as the original Puppet Master. He's right. Jet always has a plan, and to believe he doesn't is to court disappointment or disillusion. Trust me, I know. Now, I accept that. It's his nature. Asking him to be any different would be like asking water not to be wet.
Dragon. His is a lust for violence, but more than that, what he desires the most intensely is anarchy. He thrives on it. Confront him with order and he'll do what he can to throw it out. He does it by his very existence. The fact that he draws breath from one day to the next is a display of anarchy. He embraces his demons more than any one person I've ever seen, but it's to the point I'm not sure there's actually much of the man left. He is the sins he carries out. He's become them.
I know that I'm not immune to lust in any of its forms. Before, I might have tried to deny all, blush prettily and stammer some excuse, some disbelieving fact that this was the match I got saddled with. I think of what my response would have been, how I might have acted, and my hand itches to slap that girl. What an idiot. What a victim.
I have a lust for power. Power over myself and others.
I have a lust for violence. Violence to make the heart stand still and the blood run cold.
I have a lust for... lust. That intense, almost reckless desire, and to feel it for someone else and know they feel it for you in turn. Not to use you, not for what they can get out of you, but simply for you. The primal beauty of two bodies melting into each other and that one amazing moment when nothing matters but each other.
My demons now have a playground and they're having the time of their lives. I probably shouldn't enjoy it as much as I am... but then maybe I should.
For the first time, I'm taking my demons out to dance.
Lust is the greatest of all the impurities, and the hardest to erase. Nothing satisfies it, at least not for long. Nothing can move it. It may seemingly disappear for a moment, but it's still there, just burrowed down deeper than it ever was, entrenching itself further and digging its hooks in until it rears its head once more. Other sins bind us in chains, steel chains that may, with enough force, be broken. Circumstance could do the breaking for us. But lust? The chains of lust are forged of another material, one that constantly renews itself, one that never dies and never breaks. Lust is a slowly smoldering fire with the hottest flame that burns us even into old age.
And when you die, if you are one who was consumed with or by lust, you die without penance. What possible sacrifice could you make to atone for that one sin? For the sin of greed, there's charity. For envy or pride, there's humility. For wrath, peace; gluttony, abstinence; sloth, industry. For all of these sins, there is a means of atonement, a way to “make up” for the wrongs done. But lust?
You're lying on your deathbed, having lived a life of excess where you continually gave way to your passions, whatever they may have been... what penance could possibly be done by the impure? Anything that could be planned or initiated is only a ruse, because deep down, that lust still resides, its hooks still deep within. And in the dark of the night, those memories comfort you, even when you don't want them to. Even though you, perhaps, know it was wrong, you get a little thrill from the memories of all that was accomplished in the name of that one sin. To say afterward that you've “changed”, that you're “born again” is the biggest lie of them all, and the most insulting.
Sacrilege on top of sacrilege.
A playground for demons.
She hears his heavy sigh before she feels the bench shift as he sits down. He leans against the unforgiving back, stretching his legs out before him and crossing them at the ankles, messing up the line of his pristine pressed pants. The two of them sit in silence, both staring up at the dark sky. Lightning flashes across, leaving cracks everywhere it touches in the air above them. Eden leans forward, letting her legs swing over the edge of the bench, her toes barely dragging through the grass.
“You know the end's coming, right?”
She responds with a sigh of her own.
“I know.”
He shakes his head, expression baffled.
“Mind explaining, if you know this, which I know you do because you just asked yourself that, why you've put Colin, Spyder, and Zane through what you have the past few days?”
Eden shrugs.
“I needed time.”
“You haven't said a word to them since the show. You got back to the cabin and locked yourself in your room. Barely come out. They think you've regressed, and can you blame them?”
Eden looks down as she points her toes, tracing a blade of grass with one toe, the nail painted a bright and sparkly purple.
“I needed time,” she repeats, “to think. About what happened at the show, the match-”
He snorts.
“You know that wasn't what it seemed. Dragon wanted to get to you and you let him. If you want to blame someone for what happened you have no further to look than yourself.”
Eden rolls her eyes.
“I know--”
“I know you know, because I know,” he says, two particularly nasty flashes of light snaking across the sky and leaving large cracks. Eden stares up at the sky breaking apart before her eyes, her expression regretful.
“Sometimes I wish I could just stay here. Never go back.”
He drapes an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side.
“That's not true. You'd miss me too much. I mean the real me.”
Eden shakes her head.
“Not like I'd see you anyway. You're dead.”
Silence stretches once more, lightning streaking through the sky and illuminating everything beneath just before it all starts to fade.
“Why don't you look again?” he says, sliding a finger under her chin and turning her head so that she is looking up at him. Her eyes widen and she gives a small gasp.
“Travis? How--”
He covers her mouth with a finger, giving her a smile.
“Let's just say you're the most stubborn woman I have ever met. Even when everything is falling apart, you still won't even listen to yourself. Your guilt forced you to see Ryan with you, but it's always been me. Well, sort of,” he amends, looking around at the quickly fading surroundings. He turns back to her, clasping his hands to either side of her head.
“Listen to me, Edie. You have to let it go. Let him go. Let it all go. If you want any chance at a normal life, let it--”
Eden opens her eyes, taking a moment to focus on the lamp beside her bed. She sits up slowly, her mind unusually quiet. She tentatively takes stock, noting with surprise the sense of renewal that seems to radiate from her. She gives a small smile as she stares at herself in the mirror, her image smiling back as she rises from the bed, crossing the room.
They had heard her moving around in her room, their conversation instantly quieting. It was more movement than she had exhibited in days, and none of the three was sure if it was a good or bad sign. Colin had just made up his mind to go check on her when they heard the sound of her door creaking open and then closed. Footsteps in the hall, and suddenly she stands before them, each of them surprised at her appearance even though outwardly little is revealed.
Eden stands before them much more pulled-together than anything they have seen in months. Black skinny pants, silver ballet flats, a silver sequined tank, and a thin dark purple sweater, her long black hair brushed completely smooth and hanging down her back, her eyes expertly lined, lipstick in place. They noticed her appearance, but it was more than that. She was more focused. More together, and that was more than evident. Colin rises from his seat, staring at her, shaking his head.
“Dare I ask what happened?” he asks, giving her an indulgent smile. Eden presses her lips together and smiles as if they're sharing a private joke.
“I'm not sure I could explain it, and if I did I don't know if you'd understand it. Or maybe you would,” she gives a little laugh and then hugs him.
“Thank you,” she whispers, saying more in those two words than if she had given some elaborate emotional speech. Colin hugs her tightly and then releases her, Eden turning to Spyder and Zane.
“I want to thank you both too. I don't know what would have happened to me without you three.”
Spyder simply inclines his head, watching her approvingly. Zane narrows his eyes.
“Why are you talking like you're leaving?” he asks suspiciously.
“Because I am. There's things I need to do, and I don't have much time. As much as I'd like to continue to hide away from the world here... I can't. Not anymore.”
Zane starts to say something, Eden moving over to him and taking one of his large hands in both of hers.
“I never thought I would ever say these words to you, but thank you, Zane. Thank you for having patience with me. For caring when you didn't have to. For looking out for me. I owe you more than I can repay. If you ever need me... don't you dare say you won't need me, you big jerk, because you never know,” she finishes, her look stern when he opens his mouth to retort, quickly closing it with a grin. He nods, holding back a chuckle.
“I'll keep that in mind, Edie.”
She watches him closely, looking for any sign of mockery and finding none. She nods, satisfied, and moves away.
“Chicago?” Spyder asks, even though he already knew the answer. Eden nods.
“Chicago,” she repeats, as a way of a statement.
The beeping of various machines no longer filled the room. In fact, the room was no longer the same one she had last visited. He had his own larger room now, a blessing and a curse. Eden knew it was PMN money paying for this room, and it was a kindness.. but it was so lonely. She steps closer to the bed, wondering at the frail-looking body of Mark Reznik. She looks away momentarily as she watches a machine breathe for him silently. Eden turns away, setting a clear vase full of bright and cheery sunflowers on the bedside table. She arranges them and then looks back at the bed, reaching down and squeezing Mark's hand once before walking out. One day she would be back, and she would talk to him. Try to use her voice as a means of guiding him away from whatever darkness had taken hold of him. But not now. She was still managing her own darkness.
She stops on her way out, spying a young man pushing a broom through the halls. Switching directions, she approaches him, the young man noticing her and looking around him to see if there was someone else she could be striding toward with such purpose. When she stops before him, he looks around nervously. Eden gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile.
“Hi. I'm Eden. And you are--?”
“S—Saul,” he stammers, licking his lips and standing straighter, clearing his throat. Eden continues to smile in a friendly manner.
“Saul. Pleasure to meet you,” she says, extending her hand. He takes it, shaking it a little more rapidly than he probably should. Eden delicately extracts her hand and cocks her head to the side, giving him a curious expression.
“I was wondering... my friend is in that room right over there,” she points, indicating the room she had just left out of, Saul nodding.
“Yeah. He's in a coma. I mean-- sorry,” he finishes gruffly, looking around awkwardly. Eden touches his arm lightly.
“It's okay, I noticed. But I was wondering... I left some sunflowers in there. Do you think you could make sure they stay fresh? And maybe get new ones for him a couple times a week? If he wakes up and no one's there... I'd like for him to have something bright and beautiful to look at and know he wasn't forgotten,” she finishes with a hopeful look. Saul looks around and starts to answer, Eden immediately digging into her purse and pulling out several bills, Saul's eyes growing round.
“Miss, that's--”
“I wouldn't ask you to use your own money, of course. This should more than cover it, and also something for your trouble,” she says, pressing the money into his hand. He stares transfixed at her beaming smile before shaking his head.
“Yeah sure, I'll fix him right up--”
Eden immediately releases his hand, nodding.
“That's great. Thanks,” she says, turning to walk away, then stopping as if she had forgotten something.
“One more thing, I'll be back here at least once a week. And you won't know when I'm coming. So-- I'm hoping you'll hold up your end of this... Saul...” she says, stepping closer to him. His eyes close as the heady fragrance of her perfume fills his nostrils, her body just barely brushing against his as she leans up to whisper in his ear.
“Because if you don't, you won't like the consequences,” she finishes, Saul flinching hard and staring at her in surprise. Eden gives him another smile and turns to walk away, leaving Saul wondering what had just happened.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Colin questions her as they slowly climb the stairs to her apartment. Eden doesn't answer. They reach her floor, Eden's eyes immediately darting toward her door. A heavy feeling settles over her, pushing against her, trying to drag her down, down, down... she nods her head, forcing her spine straight. Colin watches her, a concerned expression in place, but says nothing.
She approaches the door, key already in hand. She slides it in place, feeling the click more than hearing it. Eden pauses, her hand on the doorknob. Colin reaches over, placing a hand on her shoulder, his voice low.
“If you're not ready for this, no one would blame you. You don't have to do--”
Eden takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. She turns the doorknob, creaking the door open.
“Give me some time,” she whispers without turning back to him. Colin nods grimly, Eden entering and closing the door behind her. The feeling that she's intruding immediately assails her, an odd feeling to have in her own apartment, but there it was. She avoids looking at her living room, and especially the large windows there, instead moving to her bedroom. She walks slowly through it before moving back through the kitchen, careful to again avoid the living room. She stops before the guest bedroom that had been Ryan's room, her hand on the doorknob. Her fingers tighten around the knob and she starts to turn it before drawing away.
Not yet.
She backs away from the door, walking with determination to the living room and staring fully at the area she still saw in her nightmares. Even with sunlight streaming through the large windows, she still stood in his shadow. The darkness hung over her, but she stood before it and didn't drop. She counted that as a victory. If she couldn't erase it, she could learn to live with it. Eden takes a deep breath and picks up the tv control, more for something to do than out of any desire to watch television. The tv flashes to life, Eden randomly flipping through channels as she leans against the arm of the couch.
Flip, flip, flip, flip, fli--
Eden stops, flipping the channel back. She rises from the arm of the couch, her eyes narrowing as she watches what appears to be a raucous pool party in Sin City. Mickey Dragon's party. The hand containing the remote control tightens around it, her knuckles whitening as her hand shakes.
Colin jerks upright at the sudden smashing sound coming from the apartment. He reaches for the doorknob to enter just as the door swings inward. Eden steps out, a reassuring smile on her face, as over her shoulder the busted screen of the television is momentarily seen before the door closes, the two of them moving away from the apartment.
Eden breathes a tired sigh as she stares out at the city lights before her, glowing brightly against the night sky. Fresh from her second plane ride of the day, this one alone, her entire body almost ached. But she wasn't done. The cab pulls to a stop, Eden digging in her purse and handing the driver his fare along with a tip before climbing out. She glances up at the night sky, finding it empty and black. She had grown used to being away from everything, where the starlight was from actual stars and not from the bright lights of the skyscrapers. Her eyes fall on the large building in front of her, the Piercing Media Network logo scrawled across the face of it. Reaching into her purse once more, she draws out her PMN badge, studying it for a moment before approaching the door. Would it even still work?
Eden swipes the card through the mechanism, watching as a green light flashes and the lock clicks in the door. She gives a small smile, realizing she should have known neither Jet nor Travis would have disabled her card. She walks into the building, her steps echoing over the floors even in flats. She walks past the security guard at his kiosk, giving him a friendly wave as she disappears further into the building, approaching the bank of elevators and pressing the “up” button. The guard stares after her, eyes wide, and when the elevator doors open and she climbs inside, the last thing she sees before they close is him picking up the phone.
Eden swipes her badge again, punching in the number for the floor she requires, the elevator humming softly as it moves through the building. The next time the doors open, it's to reveal a hallway with a line of offices. Eden turns to the right, moving a short way before she stands in front of a door with her name emblazoned across it. She runs her badge through the scanner at the door once again, the door clicking open. The lights inside immediately come on, attached to motion sensors as they are. A smile creeps across her face as she sets eyes on her office, something she hadn't seen in months. A quick glance around the room shows that it had been kept clean, but nothing else had been touched in it. It was exactly as she had left it. Eden moves around the office, touching various mementos, looking at pictures on the wall and on shelves, finally making her way to the desk. She takes a seat in the chair, immediately flipping through the paperwork before her.
Jet Somers closes the door to the car, staring up at the PMN building before him, spying the light on so far up. He moves quickly for the door, sliding his badge and yanking the door open. He strides into the lobby, immediately met by a security guard.
“Is it her?” he asks without preamble. The guard looks at him with wide eyes, nodding his head and then stopping mid-nod to consider.
“It is! Well, I think so. Looked like her--” his voice trails off as Travis Pierce enters the building behind Jet, obviously having just arrived as well, his clothing just as thrown together as Jet's was.
“Is it her?” he asks, echoing Jet's previous question. Jet holds up a hand indicating the guard before them.
“He thinks it is, but then he's not sure,” he says with a mocking air, the guard shuffling from one foot to another.
“Well like I was saying, it looked like her, and she had her badge, went straight up to the offices.”
Travis looks over at Jet grimly.
“Could be a trick.”
Jet nods.
“Melanie. That did occur to me. She's been too quiet.”
The two of them ponder in silence for a moment, before moving toward the elevators, pressing the “up” button.
“Might as well get our answers from the source,” Jet mutters, waiting for what feels like the slowest elevator of his life.
A knock at the door draws her from her thoughts and the perusal of the papers before her.
“Come in,” she calls out, noticing the pause before the door pushes inward, admitting Jet and Travis. She doesn't even look up, spying their shocked expressions out of the corner of her eye. The door closes with a soft click behind them.
“Edie...” Jet lets out in an exhale, Eden finally raising her head. One corner of her mouth turns up as she watches the two of them, leaning back in her chair.
“Surprise. Guess who's home?”
Demons need a playground. Either you make one for them or they make one for themselves, but either way they will have one. Wouldn't it be better to have one of your own design than one you have no control over? I've learned that sometimes you need to hide from your demons... and sometimes you need to dance with them. My demons are tired of being wallflowers.
My whole life, I've tried to be the good girl. I've tried to do what was expected of me, to be what everyone else thought I should be. I learned how to be the perfect victim from my mother and her friends, along with what shoes go with what style. I'm not sure which was more valuable.
The playground of demons is sin. Of course I've sinned. Everyone sins. The difference is I always tried to cover mine up. Pretend they never happened or paint a pretty picture over them. And if I couldn't do that, well then, it wasn't my fault. There's that victim mentality again. Run from them and deny, deny, deny. No more.
I could say that the sin of “Lust” being attributed to our match is faulty. Surely some other sin would be a more appropriate choice. But I've come to realize that there couldn't be a better sin for us.
Jet. Who has a greater lust for power and control? Phrixus has referred to him in that diary of his as the original Puppet Master. He's right. Jet always has a plan, and to believe he doesn't is to court disappointment or disillusion. Trust me, I know. Now, I accept that. It's his nature. Asking him to be any different would be like asking water not to be wet.
Dragon. His is a lust for violence, but more than that, what he desires the most intensely is anarchy. He thrives on it. Confront him with order and he'll do what he can to throw it out. He does it by his very existence. The fact that he draws breath from one day to the next is a display of anarchy. He embraces his demons more than any one person I've ever seen, but it's to the point I'm not sure there's actually much of the man left. He is the sins he carries out. He's become them.
I know that I'm not immune to lust in any of its forms. Before, I might have tried to deny all, blush prettily and stammer some excuse, some disbelieving fact that this was the match I got saddled with. I think of what my response would have been, how I might have acted, and my hand itches to slap that girl. What an idiot. What a victim.
I have a lust for power. Power over myself and others.
I have a lust for violence. Violence to make the heart stand still and the blood run cold.
I have a lust for... lust. That intense, almost reckless desire, and to feel it for someone else and know they feel it for you in turn. Not to use you, not for what they can get out of you, but simply for you. The primal beauty of two bodies melting into each other and that one amazing moment when nothing matters but each other.
My demons now have a playground and they're having the time of their lives. I probably shouldn't enjoy it as much as I am... but then maybe I should.
For the first time, I'm taking my demons out to dance.