Post by Eden Morgan on Jul 2, 2017 22:21:38 GMT -5
June 26, 2017
After Synergy
“Please, just say something.”
“Are you alright?”
“Am I-- Killian, please-- please don't leave.”
“I think it's best that I do.”
“No, nonononoNO, no, no-- please, just let me-- just talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Yell at me! Tell me what a horrible person I am, call me a bitch, something!”
Silence.
“I deserve it.”
White knuckles grip the steering wheel of the rental car, Eden's mind miles away, her actions dictated purely on instinct. She reaches up with one hand, swiping desperately at the tears that slip unbidden from her eyes as she replays the scene over and over again in her mind, the feel of Killian's fingers brushing her cheek so gently, but also lacking warmth. She had grabbed at his hand when he went to pull away, pressing it more fully against her skin, her fear bubbling up within her but refusing to just come to the surface, to show him everything he meant to her.
His anger had been a palpable thing when he had burst into her dressing room and found her on the floor, holding the now shut-off camera. When he saw she was alone, that anger retreated; it didn't dissipate, rather, he drew it into himself, held it tightly, but she could see it clearly in his eyes. Anger and pain, and she was the cause.
He hadn't spoken at first, and she thought he meant to simply leave. The thought of it was so final, a part of her life with a door she hadn't even known was there slamming shut. She found herself clawing desperately at that door, breaking her nails as she tried to pry it back open. His responses had been measured and even, no heat, no venom, nothing. That nothingness was far more terrifying than if he had come in screaming at her. That, at least, would have been something.
Instead, she was left with nothing. Because while her mind raced, trying to think of all the things she needed to say, to let him know, to quantify the pain she saw in his face, he turned and walked away. She had watched him go as the door to her dressing room slowly closed behind him before lying flush against the frame. She had raised her hand to her cheek where he had last touched her, surprised to find it wet from the silent tears she hadn't realized had fallen. She had moved like a robot afterward, changing, packing, calling for a rental car.
She didn't remember making all the turns or the drive it had taken to get to the remote road through the woods she was now slowly taking, she didn't remember the decision to even come here, but it was the right one. She knew that as soon as she pulled up to the cabin, knew as soon as Colin Zale stepped away from the leaning position against his car and a large, shadowed figure stood up from a chair on the porch, it had been the right thing to do, the right place to go. Neither Colin nor Spyder made any attempt to approach the car as she threw it into park and killed the engine, the lights cutting out, forcing her eyes to adjust to the blanketing darkness. Eden opens the car door and steps out, going into the back and pulling out her suitcase. She slams the trunk and moves to the front of her car, Spyder now standing on the steps leading up to the cabin, Colin just a few feet away from her, waiting expectantly.
“I didn't know where else to go,” she finally admits, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill over. Colin approaches, taking her suitcase from her and putting it on the ground beside him before pulling her in for a hug. Eden's arms stay at her sides for a moment before wrapping around her mentor, and then it was as if a dam broke, every bit of her final resolve crumbling around her. Her face disappears against him, her entire body shaking from the force of her sobs to the point of near hyperventilation, Colin standing silently and holding her. After some time, the deluge subsides and she turns swollen, red eyes to the side, a feeling of emptiness settling in.
“Get it out, kid. And then we need to have a talk,” Spyder says, drawing her back to the here and now. Eden closes her eyes, steeling herself for what was coming. She leans up, Colin releasing her from the hold and allowing her to compose herself before picking up the suitcase and gesturing for her to go first. Eden moves in front of him into the cabin, Colin's words sounding behind her.
“Yes, we definitely need to talk.”
Later that night
Eden sits at the circular table in the small breakfast nook area of the cabin, her hands wrapped around a mug of hot coffee. She sips the steaming, black beverage, having dully turned down any offers of cream or sugar. The acrid liquid scorches over her tongue, but it did its purpose of reviving her and warming her insides. Colin sits to one side of her, Spyder at the bar fixing his own cup of coffee. She looks around the cabin tiredly.
“How much do you already know--”
“We saw,” Spyder answers abruptly. Eden avoids Colin's gaze, instead looking into her own cup of coffee.
“I don't even know where to start,” she says in a small voice.
“The beginning would be helpful,” Colin responds, Eden shooting him a weakly reproachful look. Before she can say anything, the door that leads to the back of the cabin opens, Eden stunned to see Rogan MacLean standing there. She sits up straighter, noticing the lack of alarm from Colin and Spyder.
“What the hell is he doing here?” she asks, the question aimed at any of the three men in the room.
“I think the better question is-- what did you do?” Rogan asks curiously, answering her question with a question of his own.
“How do you know I did anything?” Eden snaps at him, Rogan shrugging.
“Because you're here,” he says, going about making his own cup of coffee and ignoring her for the moment.
“If you want to talk privately, kiddo, he can leave,” Colin says, ignoring the question she looks his way. Seeing she won't be getting any answers regarding the Engine of Cthulhu, Eden sighs, eyeing the man in question warily.
“He can stay, I guess. It's not like he isn't going to hear about it anyway.”
Rogan finishes making his coffee and raises his mug in a toast to her before taking a seat on the couch, his back to the rest of them. Spyder joins Eden and Colin at the table, Eden dragging her thumbnail across some perceived imperfection in her cup.
She takes a deep breath.
“Alright.”
June 28, 2017
New Orleans
Eden heaves a ragged sigh as she grabs her bag from the luggage carousel and makes her way out to the parking lot, cursing herself not for the first time that she had neglected to make arrangements for Cypress or Jet to pick her up from the airport. Though neither of them would be particularly pleasant company, considering current events. She knew she would have to face them, but she was being a coward and putting it off until the last possible moment. Frowning, Eden pulls out her phone and checks it for the confirmation from Uber. Her driver should be here--
She steps up onto the sidewalk just in time as a beat-up yellow cab comes swerving in like Cruella DeVil was behind the wheel, narrowly missing other vehicles in its path as it manages to skid sideways into a space left available for parallel parking. Eden stares at the cab, wide-eyed, a prickling of familiarity eating at her as the stench of burnt rubber rises from the tires. Against her better judgment, she leans down to look into the cab, almost unsurprised when she sees Ichabod at the wheel.
His face is painted in the design of a crude skull, the paint smeared and starting to flake off in patches. A beat up top hat sits on top of his head, a necklace made of greasy feathers and bone around his neck. He draws one of the biggest cigars Eden's ever seen away from his mouth as he turns to look at her.
“You gonna get in?”
Eden blinks and then shakes her head.
“Yeah, no, I'll pass, thanks. I'm waiting on my Uber. How did you even know I was here?” she demands, fingers pecking away furiously at her phone.
“I'm your ride,” Ichabod says, holding his hands out in a magnanimous, theatrical gesture, dirt staining his fingers and palms, his grin wide and cracking the paint on his face.
“Yeah, I don't think so,” Eden says triumphantly as she fires off another request for an Uber. Suddenly, Ichabod's phone vibrates on the dashboard, Ichabod snatching at it. He checks it and then looks to Eden, shaking his head.
“You can't book me twice, Eden.”
“Goddammit,” Eden mutters, looking through her phone again and glaring at Ichabod as she makes a call.
“Hi, I'm trying to schedule an Uber pick-up. Yeah—” she trails off as she gives her pertinent details, then hangs up the phone, satisfied. “You can leave anytime,” she says sarcastically as Ichabod continues to smoke his cigar, dumping ash on the pavement below the window. His phone vibrates again and Ichabod picks it up nonchalantly, a sinking feeling in Eden's gut. She gives an aggravated exhale, when he turns back and gives her a look as if to say, “Yes?”
“Alright, fuck it,” she huffs as she climbs in the back of the cab, Ichabod grinning like a cheshire cat.
“Atta girl. Better hold on,” he says as he whips the car out of the parking space, the door slamming shut on Eden, who has enough presence to grab the handle, keeping herself upright as he weaves in and out of traffic.
“Hey! If you get me killed before I get to destroy your buddy, I swear I'll haunt you,” she warns, Ichabod barking out a laugh, but toning down the hijinks.
“It's nothing like that, Princess, I just wanted to congratulate you.”
“Congratulate me? Do I wanna know why?” Eden asks.
“Sure you do. In fact, you deserve a round of applause. I danced a jig when everything came to light. Bravo, sweetheart!” Ichabod says, holding his hands up and clapping for her, the cab starting to veer toward the left-- Eden lurches forward, hanging half over his shoulder, and jerks the wheel back to the right, Ichabod laughing uproariously. She glares at him then leans back.
“Keep your hands on the wheel and watch the road,” she scolds. “Why are you clapping like a stupid seal?”
“Because what you pulled, if even half of what that choad you got yourself engaged to said is true, was a fucking masterpiece. Just beautiful. You surpassed my wildest expectations, Princess, I think you're finally ready to really embrace the chaos,” Ichabod says, watching her in the rearview mirror, Eden closing her eyes as they narrowly miss a stopped tourist bus. When she opens them, Ichabod is still driving around giddily.
“So you're telling me you're--- happy about what I did to Gabriel?”
“I'm happy to see the chaos unfold, and you're a regular supplier. You might even be the one closest to my level,” Ichabod says with his cigar clenched in his teeth.
“That's hardly a compliment when you didn't even see what I did coming. Face it, Ichy,” she mocks him with the nickname she once used to aggravate him, “I'm better than you at what you thought you did best.”
Ichabod watches her, the grin still plastered on his face.
“Think so?” he asks, Eden rolling her eyes and looking away from him.
“Do you even know where you're going?” she asks petulantly.
“Well no, you never told me. I'm just seeing the sights,” he says, dumping more ash out his window as an angry man who just spilled coffee down the front of his shirt in an effort to avoid Ichabod's haphazard driving chases after them.
Eden facepalms.
“Take me to Killian's. I'm sure you know where that is--”
Ichabod gives a low whistle and a shake of his head.
“Not a good move, Princess. I'm afraid King was what we in the business of chaos call collateral damage. May as well cut your losses, count your winnings, and move on.”
“I didn't ask you for advice, just get me there in one piece,” she snaps.
“One piece, huh? Hey, remember that time I choked the shit out of you? Good times.”
Eden reaches up, slapping Ichabod in the back of the head, knocking his hat crooked. In response, Ichabod takes a last minute left turn, Eden already braced for it.
“Ha! I knew you were going to do that!” she mocks, Ichabod stomping the brakes and slamming them to the floor, smoke coming up from the tires at the sudden stop as Eden eats the headrest. “Owww, fuck, you asshole!” she exclaims touching her nose tenderly as Ichabod looks at her through the rearview mirror.
“Was it something I did?”
Sometime later, they arrive at the front of King Estates, Eden lurching out of the car and dragging her bag with her. She shoots a glare at Ichabod.
“You gonna need a ride when you get out? Because, I'm telling you now, it won't be pretty,” he informs her, Eden shaking her head.
“No, now shoo!”
Ichabod laughs and then looks at her seriously.
“Think about what I said, Princess,” he says before pulling away from the curb, nearly causing a multi-car pileup in the process. Eden rolls her eyes and walks over to the number pad, punching the code in. She waits for the tall gates to open before entering and walking down the long driveway, pulling her suitcase behind her.
June 28, 2017
Eden stands at the door to Killian's home, for the first time, not sure what to do, whether to knock or just walk in. The decision is made for her as the door is yanked open by Nottingham, the smile of greeting dying on Eden's face as she's met with a cold stare.
“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” he asks, looking from her to her suitcase.
“I just came to pick up some of my stuff, Richard and-- I want to see him. I need to talk to him--” Eden starts, the door widening as another hand pulls it open, 'Vain' Alan Wallace standing there, giving her an unfriendly look.
“That's the last thing you need to do right now, Ms. Morgan. And it's the last thing he needs,” Alan says, Eden feeling her heart sink.
“Just let me get my stuff,” she starts, Nottingham interrupting her.
“Don't bother--” he drops a box outside, some of the items within sounding as though they're broken. “I've already taken the liberty,” he says snidely, then steps out on the doorstep with her. “I told you at the beginning of all of this not to hurt him. I trusted you, even after I had my reservations because I knew what you were and what you'd already done. And then, not only did you hurt him, but I find out that you meant to? I don't hit women, but if I did, you'd be a prime candidate,” Nottingham gives her another disgusted look and storms off. “Stay away from him!” he tells her over his shoulder, Eden's face shutting down, devoid of emotion as she watches him go.
“How do you do that, Ms. Morgan?”
Eden starts, having forgotten Alan was still standing there.
“Do what?”
“You really are the Ice Queen that you've been named.”
“Alan, things aren't what you think, if you'll let me in, let me talk to him, I'll gladly explain--”
“Explain what, precisely? Did you or did you not knowingly toy with Killian's emotions at any time?” Alan asks, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I did but--”
“And did you do it with the intention of stringing him along and then breaking his heart? Did you mean to hurt him?”
“Yes, but things changed--”
“Then I think Richard is correct. I don't believe we have anything further to say to you, Ms. Morgan,” Alan starts to shut the door on her.
“I could call him, or I could just stand out here and yell, he'll come if he hears me,” Eden snaps, Alan pausing with the door open partly.
“Is that your way of calling him a dog, that he comes when you shout for him? Poor taste, Ms. Morgan. And how have those other phonecalls you've made toward him gone so far?” Alan asks, Eden's icy exterior back in place. Alan smiles. “As I thought. Good day to you, Ms. Morgan,” he says, closing the door.
Eden turns around and looks at the stuff around her. With a sigh, she pulls her phone out and presses a number on her speed dial. He answers on the first ring.
“Hey, Jet? I hate to ask this, but I need a ride. Please. I'm at Killian's,” Eden whispers the last words, a faint breeze rustling through the trees as storm clouds threaten overhead.
June 28, 2017
New Orleans
Jet and Eden pull up to Cypress and Jezebel's house after a quiet ride, Jet turning the key to kill the engine to Cypress' old black Chevrolet.
“I'd have come and picked you up in mine, but I rode the bike over here,” Jet says, turning the keys over in his hand. He hadn't asked any questions since he'd showed up to Killian's, he'd simply hugged her, asked if she was okay, loaded her things, and drove.
It was refreshing, but Eden knew she had things to answer for. She reaches over, squeezing Jet's hand.
“Thanks for coming to get me and for not drowning me in questions.”
Jet gives a hint of a smile.
“It's been driving me crazy not to.”
“I know. I promise, I'll give you answers soon. But I've already done it once and I know Cypress is going to want to know too, so it's just easier if I tell you both together.”
Jet nods, Eden looking off toward the house.
“Do you mind if I stay with you and Sherry for a few days, until WrestleStock is over, I mean? I could stay here, but with Nate and the way things are with Jez--” she leaves it unsaid, “And I can't stay in my apartment, it's in the middle of being redone since someone got happy with spray paint,” she jokes.
“What an asshole,” Jet answers, feigning ignorance.
“Right? And I think we're being watched,” she says, indicating her brother stepping out onto the porch, waiting for them.
“Yes we are. You ready for this?” Jet asks, Eden dumbstruck for a moment at all the implications that question held, wondering if Jet meant for it to.
“Yeah. I'm ready,” she says, the two of them climbing out of the truck. Jet starts to pull her bags from the back then stops.
“About the house, you know you're welcome to stay, you don't even have to ask. Sherry'll be happy to see you. If that's what you wanna do, I'll leave the bags in here. You can just follow me home in the truck, Cyp won't miss it,” he closes the truck door, leaving the bags inside. Eden exhales slowly, trying to calm herself as she makes her way up toward the house and her brother, looming there like the clouds that hung, threatening overhead. He holds the screen door open for them when they reach it.
“Jez is taking a nap, so we'll have to be quiet. But I've got us a place set up in the kitchen. Drinks and all,” he says gruffly, Eden nodding, unable to meet his eyes. Jet walks into the house quietly, Cypress catching her arm and pulling her back. He tilts her chin up, making her look at him.
“I don't know what happened, but I've seen the love you have for King. I hope it was worth it,” he says, Eden swallowing a lump in her throat. Cypress releases her and turns to walk into the house, Eden pausing for a moment before following behind him.
“Me too,” she whispers to herself, closing the door quietly behind her. Inside, the house is just as dark as the ominous clouds were making it outside. Eden stands in the entryway, her eyes moving off, trying to see the door to Nate's room--
“We're in here, Eden,” Jet says quietly, Eden turning to look at him and Cypress already seated at the table in the kitchen. It struck her at that moment that Jet hadn't called her 'Edie' since Synergy.
He's not sure that's who I am anymore.
With that realization, Eden enters the kitchen, taking a seat. Cypress indicates the cup in front of her, Eden looking down to find a mug of steaming hot chocolate loaded down with marshmallows.
“Figured you would want something when you came in, and I know how you used to love that shit,” he mutters, picking up his own cup of coffee. Jet looks down at his, not really touching it, the quiet weighing heavily on them all.
“I've done this once before, you'd think it would be easier the second time,” Eden says.
“Who'd you already talk to?” Cypress asks.
“Zale and Spyder,” Jet answers for her, Eden nodding. “I figured as much. You stayed the night there?”
Eden nods again.
“Well it won't get any easier the longer you wait. So just spit it out,” Cypress says.
Eden takes a deep breath.
“Alright.”
“I don't know if this is what I should start off with, but I've told a lot of lies since I came out of River Oaks. One of them was that I don't remember most of my time there. That's not completely true. I remember a good bit, there's pieces I'm missing so I've been filling in the blanks quite a bit. I don't know when it started, I lost track of time in there. But at some point, a new doctor started seeing me. I know it had to be toward the beginning of my stay, my wrists were still bandaged and they hadn't removed the stitches yet.
He would see me frequently, more frequently than the other doctors, and even on the days that he didn't come into my room, I felt him there, watching me through the glass like I wasn't supposed to know it was him. I started fighting sleep, because he was there when I closed my eyes, he was there when I opened them, he was always there. And I didn't understand it, I didn't understand what he wanted with me, but I knew he was different. Part of me just wanted to listen to him, you know? He seemed to really know me and I think I missed that.
After a while, I realized the medicine he gave me was different from what the other doctors gave. I didn't know what it was until A-Dogg got me the footage and some of his notes. Do you know how terrifying it is to completely lose control of your body degrees at a time? The first couple of times are pure horror, you wonder if that's it, if that last time was really the last you would ever be able to voluntarily move of your own free will, and you realize you wasted it fighting something you can't escape from. After those first few times, you start to understand cause and effect. Dr. Baal comes in, jams a needle in my neck, I stop being able to move. A little while after he leaves, I can feel the tingling starting in my body, starting with the toes. I would wiggle them and move just because I could.
But that's not even the inbetween. He wanted something from me, I knew that. He made that plainly obvious. When the rest of your body is shut down and only your mind is active, and you finally stop screaming within it, you realize just how lost you are. That's what Dr. Baal wanted. He knew I was lost, and he wanted to find me. He used that drug to get into my mind and pour his poison into it. When I said there were things I don't remember-- that's some of it. I don't remember everything he said to me or even did to me, except for the last day I saw him.”
January 21, 2016
River Oaks
Dr. Gabriel Baal swipes his identification badge, the green light admitting him into the room with the patient. Once inside, he reaches into his pocket, pressing the button on a device that temporarily disables the microphone of the camera in the room. Eden Morgan, who had lain quietly before he walked in, began to pull against her restraints, rattling the bars of her bed.
“No, please, no, don't, no,” she cries over and over again, Gabriel unfazed as he draws a chair away from the wall and pulls it closer to the side of her bed. He places his hands on top of hers, preventing her from clawing at him or trying to cause damage.
“Shhh, Eden. It's alright, Dr. Baal's here now. We're going to make everything better, aren't we?”
Eden starts to whimper, tears sliding out of the corners of her eyes as she shakes her head back and forth.
“No, please, just go away, leave me alone.”
“Now you know I can't do that, I have a job to do here. Now stop and behave, this isn't our first time here,” he says, pushing her head to the side and exposing her neck while he blocks her arms from reaching him as he pulls a syringe from his lab coat. He removes the protective cap and checks the level of the liquid within the body of the syringe before carefully administering the injection. As he slowly pushes the plunger down, he feels her body shake as she cries.
“You know, today's a special day, Eden. Today is our last day together. I'm afraid I've pushed it too far, I'm surprised no one has recognized me yet. Now then, we'll wait for that to take effect, and then we'll have a little chat,” he says, patting the injection site at her neck, holding pressure with a square of gauze as he tucks the syringe back into his pocket. He sits in the chair, pulling a notebook from his pocket and writing in it as he waits. After some time, her struggling starts to slow and then cease, Eden fighting it until the end, her eyes staring emptily ahead. Gabriel leans up to look at her.
“Ah, perfect,” he turns her head so that she's looking at him while he speaks. “As I was saying, today is a special day for us, Eden. All of my hard work comes to fruition. I've learned a lot about you. I've learned that there are two Edens,” he says, holding up two fingers. “One is the version of who you are when all of the world is watching. But which one is the real Eden? Is it the one on the outside or-- the other one? The one that's more comfortable in the shadows than in the light?”
He pauses for a moment, something changing behind his eyes. When he looks at her now, it's with desperation. He clasps at one of her hands, trying to pull it to him, stopped by the restraints as they yank her away from his grasp.
“If there's even a chance I can save you, I have to take it. But if that's it, if there's nothing left to save, then you're never leaving this room. You're sick, Eden, and you're feeding that sickness until all it does is eat. I'm going to stop you from hurting other people, and yourself, mostly yourself, one way or another, I'm going to protect you, you won't have to worry anymore, because I'll do it, you'll be mine--” his voice is rushed as he speaks hurriedly, standing up to brush her dark hair back from her forehead, staring into her sightless bright blue eyes.
He suddenly pulls away from her, dropping the hand he holds, his own tightening in her hair, pulling it tight at the scalp. He leans forward his whispering voice threatening in her ear.
“You enjoy being in control, don't you? But you haven't been in control, not really, Eden. I can help you with that. I can give you control, all the control you could ever want. I'm your last hope, you understand that, right? Because if I can't help you, give you what you need, no one can. You think you're in control, Eden, you think you're in control?!” his voices raises as he speaks before settling again. “I control this situation. Me!” he finishes ominously. Baal suddenly pulls away, taking a handful of her hair with him. He walks across the room, staring out the window for a moment, his hands shaking. When he turns back around, his face is red as he straightens his coat and the suit beneath it.
“My apologies, Eden, I don't know what came over me. But it's true, isn't it? We're still not sure what is real, are we? And that's a question I hoped to have answered by now. You're capable of so much more, Eden, everything I've detailed for you over the last thirty days we've had together. You know all of it. You know my plans for you, my hopes and dreams for us. We could really be something no one has seen before. I know you can hear me, I'm just not sure it's taking effect--” Gabriel reaches out to touch her, Eden suddenly turning her head away from him, leaving his fingers bereft of the touch of her skin.
Gabriel's face contorts with rage at seeing her perform the seemingly impossible task of a simple, but telling, movement.
“Have it your way then, my dear,” he snaps, leaning down to speak into her ear. “But know that I'll never stop with you, do you hear me, Eden? I. Will. Never. Stop. Because I know what lies beneath the surface, and I want it. It's only a matter of time,” he shoves away from the bed, stalking toward the door, unaware that as he goes, Eden turns her head back slowly, watching him leave, eyes burning with anger and hatred as he slams out of the room.
“I didn't know exactly what he meant for me, but I knew what he was, I knew he was right. He would never leave me alone. I'd seen that obsession before and I knew what it could become. He was true to his word and didn't return the rest of the time I was in River Oaks. I waited in fear everyday, thinking he would show up, cringing every time the door opened. When I was finally deemed okay to be out among the others, I still lived with my terror. I would wake up screaming because I felt like I couldn't move again, or I'd felt a needle in my neck. I'd hear his voice at night, and the way he changed--
I knew I had to get better, I had to get out. So I started focusing on my therapy, stopped fighting the medications, became an exemplary patient, and the whole time, I was just trying to figure out what I would do when he found me again. It wasn't a question in my mind of if, but when. Killian visited me in those days. He'd get a pass and he'd take me outside to sit with him, regal me with stories and all sorts of tales, but I was too focused on finding Gabriel Baal, on building my plan to truly appreciate it. I almost disappeared within myself, I became so entrenched in the idea. Then one day, I saw him while one of the aides was changing the channel on the TV. Gabriel Baal was right there, waiting for me.
It wasn't long after that, through my complete turnaround I had convinced Dr. Bramlet I was ready for release. I knew what I was doing wasn't unlike what I had railed against others doing against Dragon. But I had resolved to do it all myself. Whereas they used everyone and everything around them, I only meant to involve myself. I forced myself to become Gabriel Baal's perfect victim and his greatest creation. I made myself that for him.
When Hugh reached out to me a month or so after I was out, I realized I needed help. One person who would know everything. I asked him to come back, risked everything and gave him the full story. He was willing to help on one condition- in return I help him destroy Killian completely. He came up with the idea that we pretend to be together again, get engaged again, and I use that against Killian, that I pretend I wasn't aware of Killian's feelings for me and break his heart. I didn't plan to-- There was nothing there between Hugh and I. It was all a lie. The dating, living together, the engagement, planning the wedding, all of it. We worked well together, he played himself right into Gabriel's circle and he brought me the strings to pull on either side.
I was contacted by Uriel. He saw what Hugh and I were doing and threatened to make Gabriel aware of the trap closing in on him. He asked what my endgame was, and I told him the truth. My ultimate goal was to wipe Gabriel Baal from this earth before he became another Dragon. He said he could help with that. So I started feeding Uriel information that I obtained myself or that I got from Hugh, and we came up with the plan to end Gabriel Baal.
Gabriel was supposed to die in that fire at Angelfields. No one else. Uriel and his people were supposed to free anyone there. Hugh was there to see it through. Instead, Uriel had his own agenda. He didn't want to end Baal, what he wanted would only make him worse and speed the process along of what I knew he would become. I had no love for Hugh, but I thought he'd died in that trap I had set for Gabriel-- he and others--
I've lied to everyone, those I despise, and those I love. But I did it for a reason. If you could have stopped Dragon before he became Dragon-- would you?”
January 26, 2017
With that final question, Eden looks to Colin and then to Spyder, Colin's eyes closed, his face grim, Spyder watching her with a newfound curiosity. Rogan had winced once or twice as she told her story, including the final day with Gabriel.
“Just when I think you can't surprise me anymore, Eden, you go and do it once more. Not an easy task,” Spyder says, Eden meeting his eyes. “Would you do it all over again?”
Eden considers his question.
“I wouldn't want to hurt Killian. I didn't want to hurt anyone, just Gabriel,” she finishes, an icy rage in her voice.
“You don't have that option, kid, so I'll ask again-- would you do it all over again?”
“For the chance to cause Gabriel pain-- yes,” she says emphatically, hating herself even as she says it.
“Then you can't let him win,” Colin finally speaks up.
“I don't intend to--” Spyder reaches out, taking one of her hands, Colin taking the other.
“Listen kiddo-- I know all about doing things and regretting them. And I also know about doing things that are necessary. We both do,” he looks to Spyder, who nods. “I know you're broken up because of Killian, because he's hurt in all this, but if you let that rule you right now, you will lose, and everything you've done will be for nothing.”
“He's right. You have to push all that to the side for now. This has to be only about Gabriel and you. This can't be because of some convoluted way that Gabriel ended up getting the drop on you, because that's exactly what happened with Hugh and his hidden camera episode. Inadvertently, Gabriel got the drop on you, and I'd be willing to bet that once he figures that out after the shock wears off, his going to exploit it. You have to be ready for that, you have to be at least two steps ahead of him,” Spyder puts in.
Eden nods.
“I know. I can't promise anything, but I'll do what I can.”
“Was there anyone else involved?” Colin asks, Eden starting to shake her head no, then stopping.
“There is another,” she answers slowly, carefully. “Someone who has been-- feeding me information, recently. Since the fire, really,” she cuts her eyes over to Rogan on the couch, Spyder and Colin nodding in understanding that she didn't want to say too much in front of him. She quickly changes topics. “I do have a favor to ask of you two.”
They both look a question at her.
“I need you both there with me. At WrestleStock. Please,” she asks, Spyder and Colin looking to each other and then back to her, both grinning.
“We'll be there.”
“Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be back, but I need to make a call,” she says, before getting up from the table and moving outside, noticing Rogan watching her closely as she moves through the room. She ignores it, getting outside and pulling her phone out. She dials the number by memory, not surprised when his voicemail kicks in.
“You've reached the voicemail of Killian King. Don't be a wanker, leave a message, yeah?”
Beep!
“Hey. It's me. I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from, but you didn't let me speak before. I need you to know that I love you, Killian. No matter what you think, this isn't a game or a trick to me. I'm happy to explain everything to you if you'll just let me, but it's true that I was playing you at first, and I'm sorry for that. I didn't expect to fall in love with you. I didn't expect you to be so amazing. I realize that I've completely shattered any trust or faith you might have had in me, and I know that this can't work if we can't trust each other. Trust can't live in the same place as secrets and lies, and I've been full of them. But if you'll give me the chance, I'll prove you can trust me again. It'll take time, but I'll do that for you. Because I do love you Killian. Good luck in your match.”
She whispers the finals words before hanging up.
June 28, 2017
Eden finishes her story, noting the difference in the two men's faces around her. Jet seems to fluctuate between looking utterly sick to total rage, Cypress a measure of calm.
“Now that Baal knows everything,” Cypress drawls out slowly, “he's going to be coming for blood. You may have inadvertently made him into exactly what you didn't want to.”
“Yeah. We know how that goes, don't we?” she says pointedly, looking off toward Nate's room. She looks back to Jet. “You haven't said anything.”
“He came at you at your most vulnerable. He--”
“I'll handle it. I'm not asking anyone to fight my battles for me. I'll do it myself,” she says, taking Jet's hand in one of her own, and taking Cypress' hand in her other. “You two have taught me a lot over the years, some lessons I didn't want to learn, and some I learned when you didn't think I was paying attention. One of the greatest lessons both of you have ever taught me was patience. If your emotions say 'Now!' your head has to say 'Later'. Clarity settles all scores and pays back all debts. You taught me that, and I'm more clearheaded now than I've been in a long while.”
Cypress gets to his feet, pulling his sister in for a tight hug before pulling her gently away. He looks down at her sternly.
“But you are fixed though, right?”
Eden laughs.
“As fixed as I can be,” she says.
“I'll accept that,” Cypress says with a nod.
“Cyp?”
He turns, hearing Jezebel call for him from upstairs, disappearing into the darkness of the house. Eden looks to Jet.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
Jet looks at her as if she's lost her mind.
“After everything, you ask if I'm okay?”
“Are you?” she asks again. Jet shakes his head.
“Not really,” he says, fiddling with a chain on his neck. He unclasps the latch and gets to his feet, holding it up before Eden. She catches the swinging pendant, looking at it.
“That's the same symbol you have tattooed, isn't it?” she asks.
“It is. It's the Flamel Cross. It has a few meanings, but one of them is controlling chaos,” he says meaningfully. He slips it over her head, fastening it at her neck. “I was having one made for you, but I think you deserve this now. Do what you have to do, Edie” he says. Eden looks at the too long chain, playing with the pendant before turning around and hugging him.
“Thank you,” she says, Jet hugging her tight. The two break apart.
“Uhh, when you're ready, I guess we'll head to the house--”
“Do you mind holding off for a bit? There's something I need to-- see. It won't take long,” she assures him, pulling her phone out of her pocket and placing it on the counter. “I don't want to lose it,” she says by way of explanation.
“Where are you going?” Jet asks, watching as she walks over to the sliding glass door that leads to the back yard and the bayou that hedges it.
“Hunting,” she answers, closing the door behind her.
Thick storm clouds roil overhead, heat lightning lighting up the sky every few seconds, and in the distance, the low rumble of thunder. Eden stands out in it, the wind from the oncoming storm blowing her hair all over the place, whipping the oversized buttondown shirt she wears around her. She stands at the edge of the marshy swampland before her, entranced by the decaying beauty of it all, the murky water laid out before her, the moss hanging from the trees, the cypress knees sticking up out of it. Swamps are usually full of life-- and death. It's very nature was a cyclical event, and the scent of decay was all around, perfumed by the air of the impending storm. She turns around and looks back at her brother's house for a moment and then steps into the bayou.
Eden chooses her path carefully, remembering her father's words from her childhood.
“When you're in the woods, you have to listen to everything around you, you have to pay attention. Know what you're stepping on before you step there, know where you can get to if you get into trouble. Know what to look out for.”
He'd also told her not to go into the bayous alone, but that was South Carolina and this was Louisiana.
And she had a powerful need to go into this bayou.
After some time walking, using a thick, sturdy stick to check limbs and patches of fallen leaves, she found the area she wanted and sat, absently wondering for a moment what Killian would think to see his high maintenance love out here among the dead things.
“Sometimes-- there are things that try to destroy us, and sometimes they get uncomfortably close to succeeding. I've learned that there's two things you can do when that happens. You can either run from the pain, bail, or you can let it burn into your heart, you can let it leave its mark as a constant reminder of what brought you here. So it's with all honesty that I say Gabriel Baal is burned into me. He's a part of me, just as I'm a part of him,” she tosses a piece of a stick into the murky water before her.
“Gabriel was a monster before he met me, but I showed him the way. While he and his friends played at chaos games, they had the living embodiment of it right there among them, under their noses, and they never had a clue. They didn't know that while they were laughing about pulling the strings of everyone who wasn't them, I was pulling the strings of one of their own. You know you're at the top of the food chain when everyone around you would love nothing more than to see you fall. And Ichabod wants to tell me that he thinks I'm ready to embrace chaos? I am chaos. I am exactly what the Engine always wanted to be but continually fell short of. I am what makes the gears turn in the Engine of Chaos. I control it, it doesn't control me,” she says, tracing a finger over the pendant Jet had placed around her neck.
“Gabriel, I gave you everything you wanted. I was your perfect victim, setting myself up for you so you'd get a chance to swipe at me and gain a victory, however small. And you made me become that. I knew you weren't lying, I knew you would never leave me alone, and I decided then and there that I wasn't going to allow that. I decided you weren't going to rule my life, that my life was mine and mine alone.”
“There was another before who tried to play games like these. He became a monster too, but not the same kind of monster. He was a brute who killed and tortured. He was like a sledgehammer trying to carve a picture into an apple. The picture was never there and the apple was thoroughly destroyed. It was a type of chaos in its own right, and there was a beauty to it. But there are so many other doors to be opened with just a little patience and a lighter touch. That's what kind of monster you are, Gabriel. When I say you are no Mickey Dragon, it cuts both ways. You are no Mickey Dragon, and Mickey Dragon was no Gabriel Baal,” she tosses another stick into the water, bubbles erupting from where it falls.
“I say with absolutely no qualms that I don't regret a single thing I've ever done to you, Gabriel. Not even a little bit. My one regret is that Uriel chose to play things his way instead of doing what he should have done. You should have died in that fire; you should have breathed that heavy, burning smoke into your lungs and been unable to move. You should have burned, Gabriel, in this life and the next. When it was to happen, I regretted not being able to be there to see it, but Uriel insisted that I not be there. I know why, now. I'm dealing with the aftermath of his mistake, and I'm just waiting for another opportunity because you will not become the monster that he was, that he became,” she says with determination, tossing another stick, the bubbles rising faster, the water thrashing a bit.
“I'll meet you at WrestleStock, Gabriel. We'll have our by-the-rules match, though I'd much prefer something with more bite,” she says with a smile, watching as an alligator rises to the surface, the dull amber of its eye peering around, its scaly back still half-submerged. Eden gets to her feet, glancing around her and then keeping her focus on the alligator before her. “But after that, if you want to find me, let me know. New Orleans has become my home, and I'd love to show you around,” she says as the reptile rises in the water, making it slosh toward the bank, hissing out a warning. “Just be careful if you go into the swamps, Gabriel, take real care around these murky depths. You never know how deep that hole right in front of you really is, and in this water, there be dragons,” she says smiling a secret smile at the alligator before turning back to the house.
When Eden gets back to the house, Jet is beside himself.
“Where were you? I went out back and I didn't see you,” he says looking her over, picking up on the mud on her tennis shoes, the dirt on her clothes, his gaze turning suspicious.
“I went out into the bayou--”
“What?! You?!” Jet asks, looking at her as if she's lost her mind.
“And what did you find out there?” Cypress asks meaningfully, leaning on the granite countertop.
Eden doesn't answer, just gives him the same secretive smile she'd given to the hissing reptile she'd disturbed. Cypress chuckles in response, fully understanding his sister.
“You two are weird sometimes,” Jet says with a shake of his head. “But hey, Killian called--”
“WHAT?!”
Eden whirls around on Jet, her face one of surprise.
“What did he say?!”
“Well, I answered the first time--”
“He called more than once?!” she shrieks, Cypress gesturing at her to lower her voice.
“Keep it down, let's not wake Jez up, huh?”
“Sorry,” Eden whispers then looks back to Jet, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Like I said, I answered the first time, told him you weren't around, he said that was cool, he wanted to just leave you a voicemail anyway. I'm paraphrasing, because you know he said it in some condescending, typically British way--” he doesn't get to finish as Eden snatches up her phone, the new voicemail message alert displayed on the face. A sudden, cold splash of fear overwhelms her as she reaches to hit the notification and play the message, her fingers curling inward, away from the symbol.
“What if this is it?” she asks, all of the uncertainty and despair flooding back into her.
“Hey!” Cypress barks, Eden looking to him. “Since when do you take no for an answer? You're a Morgan. We take what we want,” he says, Eden giving a little laugh.
“I don't think that'll work with Killian.”
“It might,” Jet offers.
“That guy's the best thing that's happened for you. If he takes you back, don't fuck it up again,” Cypress says by way of advice, slapping the counter and then walking away, Jet moving off with him to give her some privacy. Her heart thudding in her chest, Eden presses the symbol, quickly moving the phone to her ear.
“Hey. It's me. I love you. Kick Baal's arse.”
Click.
Her breath comes out in a relieved whoosh and the another, a smile breaking out over her face as she laughs giddily, Cypress and Jet turning back to see her, laughing loudly as she holds the phone to her ear, playing the message over and over again.
