Chapter 9

She has to finally face the fact that her friend is dead.

Chapter Nine

Heavy Thoughts

 

            The rush of rain in the gutters seemed to soothe the savage human mind…but it didn’t calm Willow. Aggie had knocked on her door minutes after she was finished crying.

            “Willow?” she called softly. “Willow? May I come in?”

            “Yeah…”

            The petite woman opened the door. She glanced over at her. She was surprised. Aggie looked very different from her usual self. Her face was withdrawn and wan. She was wearing gray baggy sweat pants and a sweatshirt. Light white hairs colored her lovely hair. All in all, she looked very disheveled.

            “Are you okay?”

            “Yeah…why are you dressed like that?”

            “I just feel…tired that’s all. Are you…ready to go to your friend’s funeral?”

            “Almost…mostly…”

            “I’ll give you a few more minutes.”

            She turned and closed the door. It creaked closed, hitting the doorway with a soft thud.

            Willow turned back to her desk, but then gazed out the window into the dreary world outside. She pursed her lips in a tight frown. She knew it was time to face the truth that Viola was dead.

_____

 

            “What do you mean?” barked Severin.

            “Sir, I-I…”

            “What do you mean that she heard one of you mention our plan?” he hissed, his pale face flushed with strands of loose black hair falling over his eyes. His amaranthine eyes flashed dangerously.

            Maura came forward and placed a comforting hand on his arm. He didn’t glance at her, but the gesture calmed him some. Severin smoothed his hand over his hair, slicking the loose hairs back. He glared at each and every one of the men who had participated in the killing.

            “Who…slipped?”

            Each and every single person in the room shivered at the cold tone of his voice.

            “WHO?”

            This time they were shaking madly.

            “WHO?”

            But before Severin could lash out and strike them, Maura caught his arm with a firm grip. She looked down shamefully.

            “What?” he snapped.

            “It…was me,” she breathed.

            “What?” The others dropped their mouths open in disbelief.

            “I said…It was me,” Maura replied strongly. She closed her eyes tightly, as if expecting to be struck. But instead, Severin cupped her chin and kissed her cheek softly. She opened her eyes and the look in them was one of confusion.

            “It wasn’t your fault. You slipped,” he whispered, wiping away her fresh tears with the thumb of his hand.

            Severin turned to his men, especially Cain.

            “I want the three of you to listen closely. You are to not say anything around my daughter. Knowing her intelligence, she has probably already suspected something. She may already know. Keep constant surveillance on her at all times. You may never know when she knows you’re there.

            “Now, leave. I need to think.”

            The three men shuffled out of the room. Maura halted to take one last pondering look at Severin, but soon filed out, too.

            He paced for what seem liked hours.

What if she knows already? If Willow is anything like me, she possibly knows something is up. We have to be careful and cover our tracks. She must never know of the project.

            He took a glance at the file cabinet.

She must never know of the others…never. If she is to be mine, she must never know anything. Or else I will have her killed.

 

______

 

            Her mind was weighed down by heavy thoughts of sadness and guilt. She walked slowly down the creaking stairs, making her way down quietly. A floorboard creaked under the weight of a boot.

            “Willow? Is that you?”

            “Yeah,” she called out, standing still for a moment.

            “Do you…want some pancakes?”

            “Uh…sure…”

            The sound of sizzling batter and the smell of scrambled eggs wafted to her nose as she entered the big kitchen. A fridge stood next to an array of cabinets and counters. Aggie was cooking pancakes and eggs in a pan as she sat down.

            When she placed a plate full of the luscious and delicious food in front of her, Willow picked at it, taking small bites and savoring the flavor. She knew she should eat, but she didn’t feel hungry. Everything was just wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

            “You don’t have to eat if you’re not hungry.”

            She looked up at the sympathy-filled face of Aggie.

            “Thank, but…I think I will.”

            Aggie smiled wearily. “All right.”

            Willow was glad that she understood, if only partly. For once, she was happy for someone to be sympathetic. It wasn’t a thing she enjoyed often.

            As Aggie was rinsing the dishes, she quickly stole a glance at the clock of the microwave.

            “Willow, it’s time. Are you ready to go?”

            “Yes,” she answered firmly with hard tone.

 

_____

 

            Whatever happened to the good times when Willow, Viola, and I were just joking? They’re gone, I know, but I just wish that those days were still here. I still can’t believe Viola died only two days ago…horrible.

Al sighed and looked up his folded hands in his lap and gazed out at the dreary world outside. Rain fell softly. He couldn’t hear it pounding down anymore. It was basically silent except for the inhale and exhale of both his mom’s and his breath.

He placed his fingertips on the window, breathing slowly. His warm breath fogged the glass. It was ice-cold…like death.

Why is it that the weather always seems to fit my mood? I guess that’s the work of God…if there even is a God, of course. I wish I had gotten to tell her that she was a good friend. I never did…

He removed his fingers just as quickly as he had placed them. Al folded them once more.

“Honey? Are you…are you all right?”

Without looking up, he replied.

“Yeah…just really sad. Mom, I’m real sorry that I yelled at you earlier.”

“It’s okay, Al. I understand. I know you’ve just lost a friend. I know that it’s hard, but you’ll get through it. You’re strong like your dad is.”

Al felt tears in his eyes, but he blinked them away, reminding himself that there was nothing he could for Viola. She was already dead.

“Al? You okay?”

“Yeah…just…just a little melancholy.”

“We all are, honey. We all are.”

Al was immersed in his own thoughts for the rest of the ride. He reminisced all of the good times he had had with both Viola and his dad.

They didn’t deserve to go…nobody does. It was their times, though. I wish Dad were here. He’d tell me to be strong for Mom. I know I am, but…I just don’t feel it.

They approached the cemetery. The gray stone of the walls and the iron gates were weathered down from years of use and weather.

Ever.

 

_____

 

Willow remembered when Allister had talked to her earlier this morning. He had said that the only loss he had ever experienced was when he lost a goldfish. Even though he had sounded like he was only joking, she had noticed  deeper, more melancholy tone to his voice. She knew he had known sadness like her, but never a murder…nothing like hers.

I know I should move on, she thought. I can never settle this subject. It’s just too important, too big. I have to avenge those who have died because of me. But is it really the right thing to do?

Willow bowed her head in thought as Agatha’s car rumbled past many of the notable landmarks of Crescent City. She found herself questioning the very motives she had been sure of the night before. She felt so confused with all that had been happening to her and the world around her. Viola’s death, Allister, Pierce, coping with her mom’s death…and most of all her father’s own sinister plans for her.

What is he planning? If I could find only one shred of evidence, then maybe…just maybe I could discover what he’s up to.

She remembered the nightmares she had had weeks ago before the death of Viola. They had depicted her strapped to some sort of surgical table with doctors crowded around her. One had held up a sort of reddish-purple liquid. She reminisced about the night she had fallen before her mother’s grave in disgust. Willow remembered it vaguely, but the memory was there, bright as day.

Something to do with some strange liquid, maybe blood, mixed with deadly chemicals. What did he do to me? What? I know what I have to do…I have to find him, and that will be the end of that forever.

“Willow, you okay?” whispered Agatha tenderly. She felt her place a caring hand on her shoulder. Willow didn’t move an inch.

“Yeah…are we there?”

“Yes…come on, the ceremony will start soon.”

“Alright…” She took in a deep breath and exhaled it by hissing like a dangerous snake. “…I’m ready…”

Willow grudgingly opened the door. The ground was wet and the moist ground with its leaves squashed under the weight of her boots. She didn’t care…much. It wasn’t that important to her. The sky was a light gray, but it looked as if it might just rain once more. She didn’t mind if she was wet…it never had bothered her.

Agatha walked past the iron gate, but Willow stopped for a moment…something irked her memory…something connected with the past…long ago when Viola was alive…

 

“Willow? Hello, you awake?”

Viola waved her hand in front of Willow’s dazed face as they passed the cemetery. A wistful feeling swept over her and chilled her to the bone, but she didn’t mind.

“Willow, what…what is it? Something wrong?”

“Uh…no, nothing…”

“Willow, you can tell me anything, after all we’re best friends!”

Even though Willow and Viola had only been friends since the beginning of November, Willow felt that they had made a real connection…almost like sisters.

“Yeah, I can…thing is…when I was younger, of course, I lost someone very important to me. She…she was my whole world…she was all I had…nothing else…”

Before she knew it, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Willow almost fell to her knees if not for Vi there. The topic of her mother always left her in tears. It was all she had. That was the only true person she had truly trusted. Until Viola came along.

“Whoa, Willow, easy there! You okay? You almost fell on me!”

“Yeah, I’m okay…just a little…overwhelmed right now…”

“Why?”

“Please don’t ask...I’d rather not talk about until later.”

“I understand fully, Will.”

“What…did you call me?” she asked, basically choking out the words out. They felt literally stuck in her throat.

“I called you ‘Will.’ If we’re friends, well…I know it’s not exactly the prettiest name in the world, but it’s pretty tough…”

“No…I like it…really. Thanks, Vi.” Willow smiled happily. Viola grinned back, for once breaking her punk-girl exterior.

“You’re most welcome.”

 

Willow smiled sadly at that silly nickname. Tears slid down the pallor of her cheeks, staining them for all to see. Her long, ebony hair whipped about her shoulders and back by a soft breeze.

A shout instantly awakened her from the recesses of her thoughts and jolted her into reality.

“Willow!”

She turned around, removing her hand from the stone.

“Al?”

 

_____

 

 

He gazed into space…to be more exact, it was actually out the window, but he wasn’t looking at anything in particular, just thinking. Pierce wasn’t thinking of Willow, but about what she about to face today. He knew that almost everyone in the world had lost something, no matter how small, even if it was a pet. He had lost his own lovable dog Randy at the young age of seven. Although he had recovered from the blow, that devastating day still haunted him somehow.

Randy was the best…such a good boy. I wish he were still around.  I wish he lived…if he had, I definitely would have brought him with me. Does no good to be without a real pal. He would really cheer me up. Doesn’t help much that my apartment’s rent is a month overdue.

He sighed and sat straighter up on his bed.

Man, this place is so desolate and lonely. Pity I don’t earn enough money. Maybe someday I can paint over this dreary gray color. Maybe…maybe a nice canary yellow or really bright turquoise…yeah, that’ d be great…someday, but not today.

He looked up solemnly at the dull gray ceiling and tilted his head in thought.

I remember yesterday night when I saw Arachne…she looked somewhat like Willow. I wonder…? I wonder if they’re connected. They have to be. Maybe they’re even the same people.

The rain outside pattered softly down against the rooftop. Pierce stood as still as a cat gazing at a mouse with hunger in its eyes. He jumped off his bed, suspicion swirling in his thoughts.

There’s only one way to find out.

He grabbed his coat and stepped out the doorway and locked the door; he shoved his keys into his coat pocket and patted them to make sure that they were still there. Pierce pulled his hood low over his chiseled face.

It’s time to go to the library.

 

_____

 

He paced around his study, strands of his black hair hanging over his eyes. He was too absorbed now to swipe them back onto his scalp.

What am I going to do about Willow? My dear daughter is getting quite suspicious. We may even need to move out headquarters into another state, maybe even into another country! If I know her, and she’s smart, she’ll follow the clues. They’ll lead straight to me…us. I can’t risk exposure for the project. It’s absolutely too dangerous.

A banging knock suddenly threw him off pace.

“What is it?” Severin barked, combing back his stray hairs with a hand.

Instead of someone entering the room, a large manila envelope was slid under the crack of the door. Written on it in type was:

 

Willow Elaine Halliwell’s Medical History and Records

 

He widened his eyes, which sparkled dangerously, and smirked.

“Finally, I can find out how the serum is taking affect on her DNA.”

Severin eagerly opened the envelope much like a little kid would open a present at Christmas. His eyes scanned the words of the doctor of the government who had taken a sample of Willow’s blood back in September. The letter that his ally wrote to him fascinated him.

 

An abnormality in the bloodstream has been detected, he read. The serum seems to have taken affect to the subject’s DNA. Serious mutations to BW were sampled in the past. They were more minor then, but more has taken effect.

The Black Widow serum was originally created for the government for mutating human soldiers. Those very soldiers died, so instead the government tried on those whose bloodstreams could handle its effects and side effects. It succeeded greatly. As you know, sir, those of us who wanted to proceed with the project did so, but the government rejected the idea of more people dying in order to be “science experiments.” They then made it illegal continue with the entire idea of the experiment.

We did though, sir, no matter what we said, and succeeded. Those of the subjects chosen for the project are listed below:

 

·        Willow Elaine Halliwell

·        Faline Yong-Sun

·        Charlotte Renshaw

·        Slade (last name not on record)

 

As you can see, sir, we have quite the number of test subjects. The horrible news is that they’re on the loose, but the good news is that we’ve been keeping tabs on them. Currently, they’ve escaped from our other department’s surveillance. And our other department is searching for them, but no luck so far. Others, whose names are unknown, have escaped. We are currently undergoing a search for them.

 

Sincerely,

 

Head of the National Medical Department

Doctor Nicholas Kolton

 

      “Excellent,” he hissed, placing the letter down on his desk serenely. He savored the lovely texture of victory on his tongue.

Things are going even better than I had anticipated. Perfection.

 

_____

 

Allister ran over to Willow, but skidded to a stop a few feet away from her.

“Hey, Willow…”

She managed a weak grin before it turned into a blank look.

“So…you’re here.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Wanna…go in?”

Willow bobbed her head in agreement.

The way in was a silent procession, combined with many other people whom Al didn’t know. Dressed all in black, Willow and Allister followed the quiet flow into a place where chairs were unfolded for sitting. In the front was an oak coffin decorated with flowers of many colors, and right in front of it was a good photo of Viola. She was smiling crazily with her eyes crossed and thumbs in her ears, waving about.

They both walked slowly side by side, but not close enough to touch. On seeing the enlarged photo, Allister snickered and sighed. Willow sounded like she was trying to hold back tears as she smiled wistfully at the picture and sniffled.

“Like it? It was the only decent one I could actually find, considering Viola was such a goof when I took her picture.”

They both turned around at the soft voice.

Standing there was a woman with fading strawberry-blonde hair around the age of forty. She was dressed in a half-wrinkled black blouse and a neat black skirt that hugged her tall figure.

She stuck out her hand. “Ms. Whitmore, but please call me Robin.”

Both Al and Willow shook her hand. Robin had a very firm grip; so firm that Al winced.

“Hi, I’m Allister…”

“And this must be Willow, right?”

He had to nudge Willow just to get her attention.

“Oh uh, yeah. Hello…I’m Willow Halliwell. Nice to meet you, Robin.”

“It’s finally good to meet my daughter’s best friend. I’m sorry that I never got the chance to meet you, I’m just always so busy these days…forgive me that we had to meet like this.”

Willow nodded and replied, “Yes, I agree.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two be so you can sit down.”

Robin left them alone, walking off to gaze at the picture of Viola. Willow sighed as Al stole a glance at her. She was radiant, as always, with her black jean skirt swirling about her ankles in the breeze and her midnight-blue turtleneck. He noticed the blood-red necklace and belt around her waist.

She looks beautiful…and sad.

He was right, because he just noticed that tears were running down her porcelain cheeks. Al longed to wrap his arm around her waist and hold her close to comfort her. Now’s not the time for that. Besides she loves someone else…someone better probably.

 

_____

 

“Viola was…a great girl. When she was young, she was so energetic and hyper.”

Robin closed her eyes and laughed to herself.

“Once she had drove the car from the driveway. That day I was so frightened, but when Viola got out, she beamed up at me and said, ‘I wasn’t scared at all, Mommy. Can I do it again?’”

This time everyone was laughing, including Willow. She was laughing so hard that she was crying and tears rolled down from her closed eyes. She gathered herself up and took on a more serious demeanor.

“Yes, I had to say that she was a girl of many talents, and I mean that literally because she constantly played pranks on everyone. Viola really did have a sense of humor, but above all that...she a mature and sensitive girl. She made many friends, and I’m sure Willow wouldn’t mind coming up here to say a few words?”

 Willow was slightly flattered at the attention and flushed as she went up to the podium as Robin sat down in one of the many folding chairs that were in the front row.  

“Well…uh, hi, everyone…I’m Willow. I really don’t know how to say this, but…Vi was my best friend. She was so loyal and self-sacrificing in those first few weeks when I had transferred to Wayview High. She…she was the only one who truly excepted me for me…the only one who actually understood me. Viola had brought out the best in me and left it there for everyone to see and…I’m thankful for that. She did me good, as I probably know she did everyone here.

“Anyway…” Willow took a deep breath and exhaled, glancing at the picture of Vi. “…I can’t believe she’s gone. One minute she’s there laughing with me, the next…I’m crying over how she’s gone. I’m sure everyone here knows what it’s like to…to have a true friend. Mine was Viola.”

Willow bowed her head. “Thank you.”

As she stepped off, applause followed her back to her seat.

Robin stepped up. “Thank you so much, Willow, for that wonderful speech. We all miss Viola so much and always will. Thank you all for coming here today.”

She stepped down and approached Willow as she stood up and exited the line of chairs.

“That was a wonderful display there, Willow. Thanks so much for coming. If Viola were here, she’d probably…well…you know. Anyway, thanks for coming.”

“My pleasure.”

“Willow.”

“Yeah, Al?”

“Wanna go take a last look at Vi before she’s buried?”

“Sure.”

They headed over to the open coffin. Willow and Al gazed sadly in.

“She looks like she’s sleeping.”

“Yeah…”

Viola’s body was lying there in a bed of what looked like the softest satin. Her eyes were closed and her golden nose ring glinted dully in the dim morning sun, which had just parted through the clouds. Her pink and purple slicked hair was to one side and was combed neatly. Her arms were at her side. She was wearing what seemed to be a black business suit. The hole in her heart had been cleaned and covered. It wasn’t visible from underneath her clothing. She truly looked like she was resting in peace.

At least…she’s not suffering anymore, but…I still can’t brush away the thought that her death…murder…was all my fault. She died because of me…because of my insolence…because of my damn father.

“Willow? Wanna go now?”

She nodded her head. Her face felt wet. They walked through the cemetery. The two were quiet. The weather felt so chilly…she wished it were warmer. She thought about all that had happened in just the past few days.

“Willow?”

“Hmm?”

“Um…about what happened yesterday…I’m sorry about that.”

They stopped as Willow stood right in front of Al.

“I don’t know what to say…it’s alright, I guess. I don’t have much experience with this type of thing, to be perfectly honest.”

“Ditto.”

“Do you, you know…feel the same I do about Viola’s death?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And…did you really just lose your goldfish or what?”

He laughed. Willow loved it when he laughed.

“Ah…well, my older brother Kyle died of lung cancer when I was younger. He was smoking every single chance he got. I guess high school finally got to him.”

“Were you close to him?”

“Yeah. I was. He was a great guy.”

Willow turned her head away. “All…all of this is so…different. I wish Vi were here. Right about now would be where she’d make some really funny crack about farts or something.”

She laughed for a minute, but then ended it with a soft sigh. Al reached out as she rammed her eyelids shut. He gently caressed her cheek. Once again, she let herself succumb. Her heart was throbbing in her ears. He leaned in and whispered into her ear.

“It’ll be all right, Willow…trust me. I promise you.”

One thing haunted her mind, though.

Would she ever recover from this horrible blow to her emotions?

Author's Note

Once again, some text is small and some text is large. I have no idea what is going on. xD
Once again, I hope you enjoy this!