Another Notch in His Belt

She stood not twenty feet away but still she could feel the heat he was giving off. His concentration was on the wood alone, putting his negative energy and thoughts into the ornate, large scale dreidel Morigann took three days to carve. Hours passed by before Monti completely burned off all of his energy. By then, night had fallen, Morigann had taken one of their loungers and fallen asleep in it after she moved it in front of the locked apartment door. Their apartment, being on the 8^th floor, was just far enough from the ground that Monti was able to throw the disintegrating piece of wood off into the distance and it wouldn’t cause any damage. As it crumbled away, the only thing that popped into his mind was the celebrations they went to and held the weeks following her finishing the dreidel. His fire went out and he threw what remained of the dreidel into the forest far beneath their dwellings. The trees welcomed the fully burned piece of wood and closed up quickly behind it, allowing Monti’s mind to switch gears and turn to Morigann. He didn’t even look up from the floor, shaking his hands to rapidly cool them from his episode, coming into the apartment without breaking the silence. He shoved off his shoes for the first time that day and gave himself a heart attack, not fully processing everything that had been happening since he began his meltdown. His eyes saw his worst nightmare then blinked to come to the realization everything was the way that it should be; Morigann was sleeping and not dead. For a moment, Monti watched her chest rise and fall slowly but steadily, calming his on edge nerves. He turned down the bed as the tidal wave of relief fell over him, collecting Morigann off of the lounger and placing her gently into the bed. Running his fingers through his non-existent hair, Monti made his way back out into the kitchen, finding the bloodied postcard on the counter. Sticky notes fell over top and lightly clung to the postcard with Morigann’s small notes and mental thoughts written all over them as she had tried to figure out what was written on the postcard. The back of the post card was writing in a language that Morigann didn’t understand, Monti now figuring out they were instructions in Middle English from a never-meant-to-be friend from the cult. Staring at the notes that she made, the small papers incinerated themselves without a shred of smoke or flame, taking the keys in his hand before putting them back down again.

‘You’ve got to stay here for this one. I’ll be back soon. Promise.’

He took the keys one more time and made it out the door, the night life embracing him as one of their own. The lights shone far above the street, his path clear but loaded with traps he feared he had already set into motion. The further down the road that Monti looked, the further back into his memory he took himself, down a road he had long since tried to forget.

‘You can’t do this. It’s not right.’

He was chasing Warwick down the hallway until he got a hold of his arm.

‘It’s already been decided M. She’ll do it and we will be rich beyond our wildest dreams.’

The fire in Warwick’s eyes turned into the street lamps standing 25 feet from the pavement. He turned down the side road and parked, taking his time down the dirt road that led to the rock cliff beside the beach.

‘You are sweet on her M. Too sweet. She’ll be just fine. Might even be blessed enough to have a Child of Divine.’

He couldn’t let it happen; Monti went over to her house and told her everything that he knew and wasted no time helping her pack and leaving with heart in hand.

“At least I can tell you’ve never forgotten.”

The two of them, though without their normal attire, were still distinguishable to the other after the years that they had spent apart. The night air swooped in on them and became the third party in their late night rendezvous, chilling them to the bone. Monti glanced in his general direction, his internal flames the warmest possession that he now held dear to him.

“Can’t say that I didn’t try to forget. What do you want War?”
“You know exactly what I want. You stole her from me. I won’t leave either one of you alone until she is mine.”

Warwick left his hood up, never truly exposing his entire face to the night’s only source of light, fearing what wrath the Gods would bestow onto him.

“You can’t have her. Never! She is willingly by my side.”

Monti shredded the only piece of blackmail Warwick had on them and turned to walk away.

“You can only turn your back to a problem for so long Mortimer.”

That stopped him dead in his tracks; no one had called him that in years, not since he was a child living at home.

“After a while the monster loses its power and just blows away.”

He waved his hand ever so slightly, lighting the shoulder of Warwick’s sweater on fire. While Warwick flared his arms around, desperately trying to put the fire out, Monti left the area.

“Goodbye forever War. My you rot in hell’s everlasting fire.”

 

Author's Note

This whole thing is a work in progress and any critiques are welcome!