A Strange Package

The Lord receives a mysterious package from applicationsscarcity

 5 ~ A STRANGE PACKAGE

        The Lord did not glance at the eerie portrait as he walked into his hearth office.  He wasn’t alone; a boy had been reading on the couch.  He looked up, curiosity burning in his chocolaty brown eyes.  The boy’s complexion was unlike the Lord’s, being that he was fair-haired and blue eyed, but his jaw was equally as defined.  

        “Hi, Florian,” said the boy, who looked to be twelve or thirteen.  The casualness of his greeting made it clear that he was related to the Lord.  

        “Hello, Kellan,” the Lord mumbled in reply, sitting himself in his desk.  It seemed like his mind was preoccupied.  His thin lips pressed together, whitening.

        “So what’d you do with her?” Kellan asked eagerly.

        “She’s in the Holdings.”

        “Oh.”

        The computer purred as it turned itself on.  The Lord drummed his fingers on the desk, moving them as if they were playing a piano. 

        Kellan sighed shortly.  “So...  You were saying?”

        “She’s a spy.”

        “For who?”

        The computer screen lit up.  It was ready.

        “Granger, I hope,” the Lord muttered.

        “I have no interest in seeing that guy again,” Kellan said, rising from the couch and strolling over to the Lord, “if he’s dead I’m glad, even if you aren’t.”

        “I know he’s not dead,” said the Lord with sudden fierceness.

        “How?”

        The door creaked open and a mousy looking woman wearing thick, black framed glasses slid inside the office.  She looked nervous and made an obvious attempt to avert her eyes from the Lord’s heated gaze. In her arms was a large package.  She dropped it unceremoniously at her feet and wiped her brow.

        “F-forgive me, my Lord,” she panted, “the box is heavy.”

        The Lord looked concerned, whether for her or for the package it was uncertain.  Kellan almost leaped over to the box, overwhelmed by curiosity.  He turned it over, examining it.

        “Um,” the woman stammered, “Kellan, the package is addressed to your brother, I believe.”  Kellan stood up, taking a step back and glancing at the intimidating man in the desk.

        “Thank you, Claudia, you may go now,” The Lord dismissed, all eyes on the package as Claudia leaped out the door. He strode over to it and bent over as Kellan had to examine it.  His eyes narrowed.

        “This isn’t addressed to me!” He said angrily, rushing out the door and down the hall.

        “What are you doing?” Kellan called after his brother.  He stood listening for a moment to the Lord’s thundering footsteps before taking advantage of his absence, kneeling to inspect the box again.

        “Rune McDella,” he breathed, reading the address panel, “who’s that?”

        In the hallway, the Lord had caught up to Claudia easily.  She was feet from the elevator when she turned to face his irritation.  Her face flushed and then paled.  Behind her thick glasses, her eyes widened in fear.

        “I’m so s-sorry so sorry my Lord!” she stammered in a fit of terror, “I will do anything!  What did I do!  W-what can I do!” The Lord turned away for a moment, touching his face and mumbling something about being nice.

        “Don’t be afraid Claudia,” he said in a low voice, “I only want to know why the box was delivered to me.”

        Claudia seemed flabbergasted.  “It was addressed to you, my Lord!”

        “It’s not addressed to me.  It says its for,” he paused, as if deciding whether to say the name out loud.

        “What?”

        “It’s addressed to Rune McDella,” he finished sourly.

        “The gardener girl?” Claudia squeaked.

        “Yes,” he hissed, “the gardener girl.”

        “Well, Alphonse told me to give it to you,” Claudia explained nervously, “he said he was very busy.  I assumed it was addressed, well, to, to you.” 

         Claudia and the Lord looked around at the same time, responding to Kellan’s voice.  He had shouted something from inside the hearth office.

        “What is ‘applications scarcity’?” His voice called. 

~*~*~

        Rune lay on the floor, incarcerated.  With one hand she touched her throbbing scull.  The cell walls that surrounded her held no compassion.  Rune’s was not the only cell.  There were five others.  Empty.  Silent, until, every once in a while, the vibrations of footsteps would echo throughout the chamber.  The only movement inside the chamber was in the torso of Rune’s sweatshirt, which rose and fell delicately to the slow count of her breathing.  Otherwise, she was still.

        Rune was detached from the machine.  She could not move or escape or do.  The footsteps echoed again, distant.

        Vibrations.  Near her stomach.  Automatically, she removed the phone from her sweatshirt pocket and opened it.  

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity 

 

        TIME 13:21 

 

        DATE 3.28 

 

        MESSAGE punch him and get out

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        TIME 13:23

 

        DATE 3.28

 

        MESSAGE get out now

 

        

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        TIME 13:23

 

        DATE 3.28

 

        MESSAGE hell u are out - out cold

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        TIME 13:26

 

        DATE 3.28

 

        MESSAGE when u wake up youll be in the holdings

        A chill whirled inside Rune, spiraling down to the pit of her stomach.  She looked around herself, as if seeing the dark cells anew.  These were the Holdings.  

        “Criminy,” she uttered.

        Three other messages followed.  

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        TIME 13:27

 

        DATE 3.28 

 

        MESSAGE a word about me will be your last

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        TIME 13:27

 

        DATE 3.28 

 

        MESSAGE dont chance it

 

        

 

        Surely icicles were forming inside of Rune.  She sat for a minute in wonderment.        

        “How long have I been out?” she thought out loud, rubbing the side of her head.  There was one final, recent message.

 

        

 

FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        TIME 15:52

 

        DATE 3.28

 

        MESSAGE now that youre awake expect a package

        “What the?” Rune shook her head, trying to shed the confusion. For a while she sat still, distant with thought.  She seemed to come to a sudden conclusion and proceeded to delete all the texts she had ever received from the phone.  Just in case.

        Unexpectedly she rose and stretched extravagantly.  When she finished she walked over to the bars that separated her from her world.

        “Well this is cliche,” Rune remarked lightly, feeling her hand over the bars.  Moving slowly to the left, her eyes widened as she found the door’s lock.  She reached her hand through the bars and felt inside the hole, fantasizing about escape. 

        The footsteps were growing louder now.  Rune could see a beam of light expanding as the door opened.  The brightness seemed overwhelming as the footsteps echoed in her skull.

        “Ugh,” she grunted. Suddenly she collapsed to the floor, clutching the side of her head.  

~*~*~

        Alphonse emerged from the elevator, interrupting the silent speculations of Claudia and the Lord.  He as was tall and graven faced as always.  With dutiful mien, he looked toward his Lord, who pivoted around to face him.

        “Why is the package addressed to that wretched gardener girl?” he snarled.  Claudia flinched and hopped back against the wall.  Alphonse seemed relatively unperturbed, if not impatient.  Under his large nose, his lips pursed.

        “I had Claudia deliver it to you, thinking you might have some way of deciphering it, my Lord,” he drawled almost chidingly, “why would I have delivered it to the McDella girl?  So she could take advantage of whatever is inside it?”

        The Lord seethed quietly.  Alphonse ignored him, glancing at Claudia.

        “You may leave now, Claudia,” he said.  Freed, she flew into the elevator.  The Lord’s angry eyes followed the lights that lit up as Claudia descended each floor. 

        “That girl seems to have a habit of fainting,” Alphonse commented, “before heading up here I visited her in the Holdings--”

        “I need to find something to do with that cursed thing,” the Lord interrupted viciously.  

        “This is of your own doing, I remind you, my Lord.”

        “I don’t need your reminder.”

        “You could have put the Executioners to work,” Alphonse said, nodding his head as if willing the Lord to agree, then mumbling, “it would have been much easier for us that way.”

        “I can’t though, I can’t!” The Lord shouted, throwing his great hands in the air.  He groaned histrionically.  “She could still be of use!”

        “How?”

        “If she’s a spy.”

        “I see.”

        “For John Granger.”

        Alphonse shook his head.  “I can see how you feel, my Lord, but your convictions may be biased.  The murder of your father was--”

        “Never speak about my father!” the Lord hissed.  Alphonse was quickly quiet.  After a pause in which the Lord seemed to struggle to collect himself, he continued,  “I don’t want to hear about that man.  I only want to hear about John Granger, and where he is.  The wretched girl is that opportunity.”

        “Do you wish to interrogate her?” Alphonse asked quietly.

        “Yeah, but it’ll have to be a bluff.”

        Alphonse seemed amused.  “You want me to tell Arnold to bluff?  How?  Why?”

        “I want to keep her alive,” he said, sounding almost ashamed.  Alphonse raised an eyebrow and the Lord continued quickly.  “I know it sounds ridiculous.  I just think that she is a greater source of information than you or I suspect.”

        “Arnold will not appreciate that,” Alphonse muttered.  

        “I’ll be there, and it will be a bluff.”

Author's Note

UUGGGHHH!!!! Font size=extreme exasperation!!!!