Chapter Two... The Stag

2nd Flame & The Feathered Mask

Chapter Two

 

          Yevette awoke to a shudder, the dream been through. Even though blocked and unremembered. It took some time to stop shivering, lying abed in her somewhat small self contained suit in the employee’s quarters, and... it took some little time. For her to become entirely aware, of just where she was. As well as, having a totally real type date the day before. With a beautiful man? Even if she had told him, he was not all that handsome. She’d lied. ‘Jesus. Men’! Troy Farrell was the first man, with whom Yevette had felt safe and could even be with in any direct personal sort of way. After the nightmare, that was... Belize.

‘No. Forget, forget’!

            ‘God’, she shivered. She’d even mentioned something about it to him yesterday. In relation to the day she’d arrived in Calgary, and had bought ‘Her now His’ lovely old tweed… she would definitely have to be more careful. In the manner in which she related to this man, in their near future. It would not be easy. Yevette, was maybe enthralled?

           As he had so captivated her from that moment, a week ago. What? Just another guest, attracted her attention. Had watched him sit himself not in her section, and simply order breakfast? Not that he glowed, but this man really did stand out. More everyday, for a week, ‘ah well’... now Yevette had to by rout. Go through her reasoning’s for being, in Jasper. A daily routine, which maintained her sanity. Or mostly everyday. Some were skipped through, or forgotten about in the day to days of her job. Not, to day. It was only dawn and getting light out and in some three hours Yevette had agreed, maybe stupidly. To venture out onto the lake, with Troy. In what she had to admit was a wonderful boat, not to mention… its driver!

        Again, the sense of déjà vu shivered through her in relation to the damn boat. Not knowing, if it was good or not, but these thoughts would have to wait. Troy, or no Troy. Something was wrong and terribly, wrong and was feeling this since her odd phone call would not go away, no matter the things, that distracted her on the surface. Beneath, was the constant vibration. The bleak dark evil; that pulled at her consciousness. A thing of shifting unremembered, tragedy. A dark deed, performed by her own hand?

         If only she could get hold of it! Fully see just what it was that was plaguing her. Messing, with her goddamn sanity. Something dark and uncontrollable, was coming her way. Something too horrible to even imagine. Again, the strange phone call yesterday wasn’t helping matters any. Her insides rebelled, and Yevette uncontrollably shook like a deep bone chill. Familiar to her from life in the Laurentian’s, where it could instantly drop to 30 below and one could freeze to death, in mere hours. This, felt to her this way. Yevette hugged herself beneath her comforter. Praying, that it would leave her…

          This pervasive evil.

          ‘Oh, my God… The Feathered Mask’!

          A glimpse of the Demon, hung momentarily before her eyes… then. 

          Blank white!…forget forget forget forget forget whispered the wind

                            forget  forget forget forget forget…

It was some time before Yevette could again calm herself, but as was the case. She held some given power, not knowing what or how. Could draw this power to her and just create a blank mist, to lose her self to. As a fluttering of wings breathed, by her face… a calm and gentle wind. Soothed.

Author's Note

As this story is written for true novel word count and not for WC. Chapters, are in real read time. Though adapted, to suit this formating. I subchapter and labled, what I thought to be setting a scene... from one to the next, in various lengths.

Reviews

[Angel Bird]

Now things are becoming more and more mysterious. What has happened in Yevettes past that she is subconsciously pushing away... must be something very bad and dark. Poor girl.
Wonderfully conducted in conjuring up the feeling of sweaty skin and dread of her own memory.
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