A Deadly Mistake

i wrote it for a group in school so it had to be kept kinda short which resulted in a ending that was kinda cliched and a cut off story line but hey what can you do? hope you enjoyed it anyway ^-^

 

 

 

 

 

Summer

          

            She wanted to die.

            Didn't they understand that she had nothing to live for?

            Didn't they understand that the pain was too much to bear, that it was tearing her apart?

            She looked at the blood covering her wrist and realized that they wouldn't find her in time. They weren't going to be able to stop her. She felt relieved.

            As her vision dimmed and her consciousness faded, she thought about her daughter. Lastelle was going to be alone now. Her baby sad and alone. But she was a strong girl, and she hadn't truly needed her in a long time.

            She let that thought comfort her as she drifted away into darkness.   

__________________________________________________________________________________                               

          

           Something was wrong.

        She didn't know how she knew it, but Lastelle was sure that something horrible was going to happen.

           Dropping the book that she had been reading, Lastelle ran through the woods towards her house. The woods that had seemed warm and inviting moments ago now seemed dark and uneasy in light of her premonition. 

           Reaching the beginning of the manicured lawn, she tried to think if something had upset her mother, who had never been the same after Lastelle's father had died.

           Then she remembered her mother looking at a picture for hours that morning. She hadn't thought to see what the picture was, she had been too busy trying to avoid the servants, but now she had the uneasy feeling that it had been a picture of her father.

           Reaching the house, Lastelle slowly approached the parlor.

           "Mother? Are you there?" she hesitantly called. Opening the door she saw that the room was empty.

           Growing frantic, her voice grew louder as she searched the first floor. She practically ran up the stairs and was relieved to see her mother's bedroom door slightly a jar.

           "Mother, you had me worried. I couldn't fin-" She started to push open the door and froze.

           Sitting on the rocking chair where she had soothed many of Lastelle's fears, sat Lastelle's mother, holding a picture of Lastelle and her father, both her wrists slashed.

           Crying out, Lastelle collapsed against the banister and sat staring blankly into the room. That is where they found her hours later.

           In that one moment, everything that Lastelle Melody Rose had known for 16 years shattered.

            _________________________________________________________________________________

 

           "Scandalous! No supervision... running wild... absolutely shocking... like a common brat... crazy since the lord died... won’t talk... unnatural"

            Lastelle heard what they were saying, but she did not care. The doctors said that she was in shock; that her mind was trying to protect itself. That was why she wouldn't cry.

            Or at least that was what they were telling the relatives who had flocked to her home. They didn't really care, and they didn't really know what had happened. If they did they would realize that the woman who had killed herself had not been Lastelle's mother. The mother that Lastelle had knew and loved never would have left her all alone. That mother had been dead a long time, and she had no grief or tears for the stranger that had been there ever since.

            All of the sudden, she felt angry. She looked around the parlor and saw everyone sneaking covert glances at her, gossiping about the "unnatural child of the crazy widow". She looked down at her hands in her black lace gloves, resting upon her black satin covered lap. Her long wavy brown hair was in proper little knot at the base of her neck, her blue-green eyes were properly downcast as was her thin heart shaped face. Her legs were crossed at her ankles, even though her feet did not quite reach the floor because of her diminutive 5 foot 2 inch height. She looked the model of propriety, but she no longer felt like being on display. She stood and fled the room. Thinking that no one noticed or cared, she ran to the relative solace of the garden.

            _________________________________________________________________________________

 

           When Lastelle reached the garden, out of breath with a stitch in her side, someone was already there. Stifling a gasp, she hid behind a flowering hedge, then realized that she didn't have to. It was her garden.

           She hesitantly looked around the corner to see if he had noticed her and was relieved to see that was not the case. Feeling more at ease, she studied him. He looked tall and she grimaced. She hated tall people; they made her feel even shorter than she was. His clothes were well made but in the non-descript black that was expected, except for a strange rose pin that was partially white, partially red. He had black hair that looked like it could use a trim. His face was not exactly handsome, it was too rugged for the word, but his green eyes sparkled mischievously. Green eyes that were looking right at her.

           This time she couldn't stifle her gasp and she felt her face getting hot as she ducked behind the corner fast enough to get whiplash. She couldn't believe she had been caught staring at a stranger for so long. 

            "It's okay, little girl. I don't bite," he suddenly called out. 

            Lastelle couldn't believe he could be so forward, conveniently forgetting that she had been staring at him just minutes ago. Then she realized what he said. He had called her a little girl! Ever since she was a child, people had always thought she was younger than she was because of her height, and she couldn't stand it.

          "I am not a 'little girl', sir. I am sixteen years old!" she replied indignantly, looking around the corner to glare at him. "I am Lastelle Rose and this is my garden that you are being rude in."

          “I realize that you’re not a little girl, Ms. Rose. My name is Dorian Night and I have a proposition for you.”

           She started to turn away, and in that second he was up and grabbing her arm.

          “Let go of me!” She turned back around to glare at him.

          “You are in danger Ms. Rose.” She gasped and he looked annoyed. “Not from me, but from those leeches you call relatives. At the moment you are in an extremely precarious position. You are not married and you have sole control of your fortune; a fortune that could go to any one of your relatives if you were to die. Do you understand me?" Wide eyed she nodded. “Then I want you to listen to me very closely.”…

 

           Spring, three years later

 

          It was cold out and Lastelle sighed as the man she was following finally came out of the club. It was three years after her mother's death and she new for a fact that she wouldn't have recognized her if she had been alive. Her hair was cut short and tied in a queue like a boy's and she had grown a spectacular four inches so she was now tall enough to be passed off as a boy, when the job required it, as it did now. Her mother would never have approved.

         Sighing again, she waited fifteen seconds and then started following the man, trying not to walk strangely, but it was hard. Why are men's clothes so uncomfortable? She thought with disgust. Wincing she looked ahead discreetly so she wouldn't lose the person she was following, but he had disappeared. Swearing softly, she looked for the man who was her current job. He had looked oddly familiar and she was sure she would know him anywhere. She continued looking but he but she could not find him.

         She swore loudly, so that people passing by stopped and stared, another habit her mother would have found distasteful. She started to walk faster, then to jog as she still couldn't see him. She had just broken one of the top rules of the follower's, as they were called; never lose the person you were following. The follower's were given a name and a picture to ensure it. 

         Just as she thought that, she found him, or to be more precise he found her. She had been so preoccupied looking forward she had failed to look in the alley she was passing, which had given him the opportunity to grab her. Crap! There goes rule number one. Never, ever get caught.

         Just as she was slammed against the alley wall she tried to bring her knee up, and was blocked. 

         "Why are you following me, boy?" He was holding her shoulders pinned to the wall so she tried to kick him, then to bite and scratch when that failed. "Stop that, boy! I'll have you whipped!" When she continued to struggle he shoved he against the wall harder, so hard that her head smacked into the bricks, causing the ribbon holding her hair to untie and fall and her head to swim. She bit back a groan.

         Lastelle was struggling to remain conscious when the man swore, "Christ, you're a girl!" This time she did groan. Damn! She had been found out. He started shaking her, then seemed to think better of it and bent down to pick her up.

         This had been just the opening she had been looking for and she took advantage of it, by kicking him in the face. He flew backward, his nose gushing blood as he hit the back of his head on the concrete with a resounding crack! Gasping for breath, she stared at him in horror as blood pooled from the wound in the back of his head. Panicking she realized he wasn't breathing. She had killed someone...

         Her breath was almost to the point of hyperventilating as she tried to come up with a plan. She latched on to one thought desperately through the jumbled recesses of her mind; Dorian will know what to do. Dorian will protect me. She repeated that thought in her head like a mantra as she stumbled out of the alley.

          ________________________________________________________________________

         Lastelle couldn't remember exactly how she had gotten there but when she stopped, out of breath and her legs aching, she was in front of her headquarters. Bent over with her hands on her knees, she tried to catch her breath as she examined the building. It didn't look like anything special, much less the base of a secret organization. It was a brick building that had abandoned warehouses behind it and looked like someone's grandmother or maiden aunt would live in. And in fact someone's grandmother did live there: Dorian's.

        The house in front was just a cover. In the basement there was a carefully hidden tunnel that went into the warehouse behind it. The warehouses had once been a base for anyone smuggling illegal goods into the country but had been long deserted when The Organization had taken over it years ago, because the secret tunnel had been ideal for their purposes. Now Dorian lived there with his grandmother, ostentatiously to take care of her. 

        Standing back up, she went up the stairs, knocked politely and waited impatiently until a gray-haired butler opened the door and coolly asked her purpose for being there. It was at that moment that Lastelle realized what she must look like. Her hair was free and tangled, she had mud all over her pants, and her jacket had come undone revealing her small chest under her shirt and showing that she was in fact a girl.

        Standing up straighter she replied haughtily, "I'm here to see Dorian."

        He looked her over just as haughtily and she blushed. He then showed her into the parlor and told her that he would see if Master Dorian would see anyone. 

        "Bloody Snob,” she muttered. She really hated people like that; they made her want to punch something.

        She sat watching the clock for exactly three minutes twenty eight seconds, when the butler came back in and said that Dorian wasn’t available today, but she could come back tomorrow around four a clock to see if he was available then.

        "But I need to see him now! It’s really very important. Did you tell him it was Lastelle? He always has time to see me, and I won’t leave until he does!" Throughout the tirade, the butler shook his head and nodded in all the right places before politely telling her that she had to leave, Dorian would see no one. 

        Seeing that she was really getting nowhere, she did the one thing she had not done in years, since before her mother had died, before her father had died; she started crying to get what she wanted.  It had always worked when she was younger, because really, who wanted to see a little girl cry? But now she wasn't sure that it would work, because nineteen year olds were not as cute as nine year olds. Though at the time it was really, very easy for her to get the tears started she was still starting to get nervous, when to her relief he started to look decidedly uncomfortable, and she had to fight the urge to smirk. Then she added to the tears with a dramatically placed sob, followed by an attempt to talk and a hiccup. She was a master at guilt trips and she was giving him the full works.

        Finally in a small and timid voice she started to talk, “Could I plea-please see Dorian? It’s a really grave mat-matter, and I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t see him.” She added some well place hiccups and gasps for dramatic effect. All of a sudden the butler seemed to snap.

       “Please don’t cry, miss. I’ll go see if Dorian can be convinced to see you.” He practically ran out of the room and she suppressed a giggle until she could no longer hear his footsteps, then she burst out into full blown, slightly hysterical laughter.

        She was still laughing on and off when Dorian arrived. He watched her a moment before announcing his presence by snorting, “You little con artist. You had James having a fit; he was never really good with crying females.”

       “Dorian!” Lastelle jumped up and ran to hug him. “I’m sorry I had to trick Mr.Whats-his-face but he was being so mean!”

        She didn’t realize how young she sounded until Dorian ruffled her hair. “And how old are we turning today, shrimp?”

        She glared at him as she always did when he called her shrimp, but he looked very serious all of the sudden.                          

        “He said it was important Lastelle, was it? If it wasn’t you can’t even say it was because you missed me.  You saw me yesterday.” He looked at her questioningly and her lip started to tremble as it all came rushing back to her. 

        Dorian took one look at her and sighed, “Come into my office Lastelle, It’s more private and you can tell me all about it.” He steered her out of the parlor and up a flight of stairs until they came to his office. He brought her in, pushed her gently into a chair across from his desk, then turned and locked the door before sitting down in the chair next to hers.

        “So what happened?”

         She took one look into his eyes, filled with understanding, and the whole story came out, along with all of her remaining tears. When she was finished, she looked up at him hesitantly and was scared to see that his face had become closed off, like a curtain had dropped over his emotions and his eyes had become cold. 

         The silence had started to become ominous when he said, "How could you let that happen Lastelle? You know the rules as well as anyone. You should know them better since I trained you!" His voice was soft and oddly deadpan and had Lastelle flinching, and seemed to herald death and destruction for the person who had provoked him into using it.

          “I…I didn’t mean to,” she stuttered.

           “’You didn’t mean to?’ Okay that must make it all alright, because you didn’t mean to!” He replied sarcastically.

           Lastelle flinched again at the poorly concealed vehemence in his voice and to her shame tears came to her eyes once more. I thought I could trust him! I thought he would protect me!

           Her thoughts must have been visible on her face along with her tears. “Stop that!” he ordered. He glared at her when there were still tears in her eyes after she had wiped her face with her sleeve. “I said to stop!”

           “Sorry that my emotions distress you!” but her sarcasm was marred by the slight trembling in her voice.

           He sighed and looked infinitely weary all of a sudden, “Lastelle, I truly like you and though I wish I didn’t have to, I’m going to have to report this to the Council.”

          “NO!” she gasped. The Council was a group of men who owned the Organization. They were secretive and though she had never seen them, she knew that they knew who she was and that they hadn’t wanted her there in the first place. The council dealt with all matters that might jeopardize the Organization; rogue agents, people who knew too much… and people who made deadly mistakes, like her. They were not known for being merciful. It was said that anyone who was brought to the Council’s attention would disappear and no one would ever see them again.

           Dorian was looking at her warily and with something that looked like regret in his eyes, before they turned cold once more, “You know that if you try to run they’ll find you, and it will only provoke them.”

           She nodded, not looking up and trying to hide the newest onslaught of tears. It was because of her down-turned face that Lastelle didn’t see the look of tenderness and something akin to pain in Dorian’s eyes before he seemed to make a conscious effort to hide his emotions behind a mask of indifference.

            “You’re going to have to stay here until they decide what they’re going to do with you.”

             His voice roused her out of her self-pity and she replied bitterly, “We both know what they’re going to decide. They’re going to make me disappear like all the others.”

             She looked up to pierce him with a hate filled glare and he would have flinched if it hadn’t been for all his training. All she saw was that familiar face of impassivity and at that moment she truly hated him.

            “If that’s what they decide, that’s what will happen.” he replied calmly. “I’ll have James show you a room you can stay in.”

            “Why don’t you just lock me in the dungeon?” she replied sarcastically.

            “If you would prefer that, I’ll see that it’s done.” He replied in the same calm slightly bored voice. He then got up and went to the door to presumably summon the butler to show her to a room she could use.

            Or maybe the dungeon. She thought bitterly.  When he sat back down and resumed staring at her in his calm impassive manner she snapped. “Don’t you even care that I’m going to die?!” She cried, “I thought you were my friend! I thought that you cared about me! That you would protect me! Now you’re acting like you want them to kill me!” Though what she said was not quite accurate it was still enough to set off the normally endless fuse to Dorian’s temper.

            “That’s what you think?! You think I want you to die?!” he roared.

             Wide eyed she slowly shook her head but he didn’t seem to notice.

             “After all I’ve done for you! After all the times I comforted you and watched over you, do you truly believe that?! If I wanted you to die I would have done it myself when you first came here, not waited until you screwed up! I wouldn’t leave it up to the Council; I would have made you disappear!”

            Sometime during his ranting he had stood up and he was now looming over her, and to his shame Lastelle was cowering away from him, truly afraid. At her look of wide-eyed fear all the anger left him, and he slowly sank back into his chair.

            “I’m sorry…” he finally said in a broken whisper that was too quiet for her to hear. She was still cowering slightly when he looked up and her face was filled with wariness.

             Dorian took a moment to regain his calm and then leaned toward her again. She flinched back but he didn't let that bother him. Finally after staring at her thoughtfully for another moment he spoke. "You'll be sleeping in the farthest room down the hall,” he said softly. It was almost a whisper, but not quite. Lastelle looked surprised and Dorian knew why. That room was next to the servant’s stairs, and it was the most direct route to the various tunnels in the basement. Once a person got to those tunnels, they could either go into the actual Organization headquarters or leave through one of tunnels that went out of the city. "The door to the room will be locked at all times that you are not accompanied by me or another agent." He stated the fact flatly, as if he had no interest in the whole ordeal, but when he next spoke his voice was softer than before; so soft that Lastelle had to lean forward to hear him. It was also more desperate. "I'm going to report you to the Council today, but knowing them, they won't act until tomorrow. At midnight tonight a key is going to be slipped to you, from under the door. You're going to escape, relock the door and take the key with you when you leave the city. You are to run as far away as possible. Tomorrow, James is going to go to get you but without the key it should be a while before it’s discovered you're missing. They'll send someone after you, so you must be on your guard at all times. You can go anywhere, but you cannot go home. Do you understand, Lastelle?"

            The look on Dorian's face had kept Lastelle from speaking, but when he finally stopped, the words she had been holding back came pouring out. 

             "But, Dorian, what are you going to do?! They know that you're my friend! They'll think that you helped me escape! You'll be punished for it!"

             He just looked at her for a moment, as if considering what version of the truth to tell her. "I can take care of myself, Lastelle. By tomorrow you won’t be the only one who’s disappeared. I promise you that." 

             Lastelle started to open her mouth to ask him what he planned to do when he held up his hand to signal that silence was needed. About thirty seconds later, James walked in, sending a slightly annoyed look at both of them.

             “If it pleases you both, I’ll show Ms. Rose where she is to sleep now.”

             Dorian nodded and Lastelle sent him a panicked look.

             “But-“she started but Dorian cut her off.

             “That will be fine, James. I have work to do anyway.” He sent Lastelle a hard look that warned her not to speak, and then standing, he went over to the butler and told him to make sure that the door to her room was locked. He then motioned her to stand up, and then to her utter surprise, he hugged her quickly, before going back to sit behind his desk once more.

              Thoroughly confused, Lastelle followed James after taking one last look at Dorian, who was staring back at her with an intensity that Lastelle found frightening. He doesn’t think I’m going to make it. She realized which made her wish that he had hugged her longer than he had.   

              The room she was shown into was small but not uncomfortable. It had only the basics; a bed, a dresser, and a small table next to the bed that had a candle on top. While she was examining the room she heard the door close and then she distinctly heard the key turn in the lock. Sighing she sat on the bed, then curled up and watched the door. All she could do now was wait.

               ______________________________________________________________________

 

             Bolting upwards, Lastelle awoke from a sound sleep and strained to hear. It was dark because she had never lit the candle and for March it was warm so a fire hadn’t been lit either. A clock ticked but she couldn’t see the time or hear anything else besides that and her own rough breathing.

             Then she heard the sound that had pulled her to wakefulness; soft footsteps outside of her door. Listening hard she heard the promised key to the room be slipped under the door and she swiftly but silently retrieved it.

              Opening the door quickly she looked out but no one was there or if they were, she could not see them. She hesitated and then deciding against a candle, she cautiously followed the path she had been told to follow.

              The stairs creaked as she went down and she flinched with every step until she finally reached the bottom and the start of the tunnels. Looking she randomly chose the path to the left and followed it until she reached a river. Following it she left the city completely until she reached large flat expanses of country, and continued until she reached dense forests. She kept walking until she was as far away as she could get; until she was swaying on her feet; until the sun had risen high in the sky and already started its downward path. Then, hidden in a thicket in the thick forest, she finally allowed herself to rest, thinking of Dorian’s promise that he would escape.

              Little did she know that as she was resting, the Council had already sent someone to find her and Dorian, who they thought had helped her escape. Though she had traveled miles away from the city, into a forest that was threatening in its very vastness, they were determined to find her.

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Four Months Later

 

               Someone was following her.

            Though she didn’t see anyone when she looked behind her she knew it was true. She could feel the eyes watching her. She wondered if it was another one of the Council’s pet assassins, or if maybe after all her weeks of waiting and hoping it was Dorian. She quickly squashed that hope. Dorian would have already told me if it was him. So it must be another of the Council’s pets, she thought angrily, before smiling evilly to herself. I wonder if he wants to play. All her months on the run combined with frequent assassination attempts had made Lastelle cold in a way that her parents deaths never had.

            Turning abruptly, she left the small town that she had been resting in, because she could never stay in one place for to long. She continued, still feeling someone’s gaze on her back, until she reached a small forest that reminded her of her initial hiding place, despite the difference in size. Breaking into to a run when she finally heard footsteps behind her, she came to a meadow. She whirled with her blade raised to see…

            “Dorian!” she gasped, not quite believing that he was there. “Wha? How? Where did you?” she stuttered until finally she lunged toward him. She grabbed on to him, crying.” I thought that you were dead! I thought that I’d never see you again!” she wailed.

            Dorian allowed himself to be hugged, as he rubbed her back and murmured softly that it all would be all right. He allowed this for a few long moments, until he stiffened as he realized that they weren’t alone. Cursing, he pushed Lastelle aside, just as a dagger came flying through the air to land in his chest.

            He faltered as Lastelle cried out in pain. Someone had snuck up behind her and grabbing her by the hair, had pulled her up onto her knees, and was now putting a new dagger to her throat.

               Grabbing the dagger that was embedded in his stomach Dorian pulled it out, and shoved it into the would-be assassin’s throat. The assassin fell, but not without one final act of defiance. Just as his strength was running out, he shoved his final dagger into Lastelle’s back; piercing her heart.

            Choking in pain and in grief, Dorian fell to the ground next to Lastelle. “You’ll be all right, Lastelle. You’re going to be fine,” he said rapidly, as he tried to stop the bleeding. He kept repeating it, as if those words would keep death away if he said them enough times.

            Lastelle weakly reached up to touch his cheek. Startled, he looked at her face. She was pale but she smiled at him as she said, “I think it’s my time to go. I wonder if everyone will be happy to see me?” She smiled a little more, before closing her eyes, her breath becoming shallow.

            Dorian sobbed, trying to be strong, even as his wound made him feel weaker by the minute. “Don’t go Lastelle! I love you! Please don’t leave me!”

            Blinking her eyes open she smiled brilliantly. “I love you, too. I won’t leave. I promise.” She shivered. “I’m cold.”

            Dorian automatically took off his coat, using it as a blanket as he lay next to Lastelle, even as he felt his strength weakening.

            “I love you, Dorian. Thank you,” she said dreamily, before closing her eyes for the last time.

            “I love you too,” Dorian replied, before falling asleep, never to wake up again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End