Trojan managed to fly upward, his wings gaining strength, the power surging through him again. He turned towards Nephene and held out his arms to her. “Mother, are you all right?”
Nephene fluttered over, her wings barely moving. “This space is so hard to move in, but I knew you would be in danger, my son.” She patted his face with her wings and fell into his embrace.
“It's dangerous for you to be here, Mother.”
“Oh, nonsense, my boy. I was at Troy too, if you will remember.” She sighed. “That was so long ago.”
“Who was that fairy that interrupted my battle?”
“She was a most annoying chit that had no manners. She needed a good lesson, but, you, my son, you really need to find a good war to fight. This space is so different.”
“A war like at Troy doesn't exist anymore, Mother. The human battlefields of today have such powerful explosions they can blow one's wings away. Here is where I can annoy humans and fight against a common enemy, the Malware clan.” He gave her one last hug, smiled at her, lifted his sword, and flew off into the blue-black space crisscrossed by silver and golden lines.
“Goodbye, my darling boy,” Nephene cried after him and tried to work her wings enough to leave. The cyberspace closed around her. “Oh piffle,” she snorted and snapped her fingers and disappeared from cyberspace. It was time for another cup of tea.
She floated back into the Tea Room. The Fairy God Mother had returned and was weeping into her cup. Lillie White Fairy was patting her on the arm. Stormy was sitting there smirking at them. They all looked at Nephene as she floated in and settled into a chair. The teapot floated over with a cup and saucer trailing.
Nephene watched as the tea poured into her cup. When it was the proper level, she added the creamy dew of clouds and fairy dust before taking a sip and then smiling at the rest.
“Welcome back,” said Stormy. “I wasn't sure you could make a jaunt anywhere. You're fortunate that Cyber isn't here to make you come apart again.”
“Oh, we won't need to worry about her nasty remarks anymore.” Nephene turned to the Fairy God Mother.
“Did you find someone to clothe and equip for a party or a prom?”
The Fairy Godmother looked up and wailed, “All she wanted was the glass slippers. She said my dress was dorky and screeched when she saw the mice. Then she ran out of the room without the glass slippers.” Tears continued to roll down her face. “What is it with these modern young females that they can't even stand the sight of a mouse? Are they that incapable? Cindy had no such qualms.” She took a drink of tea and dabbed at her eyes. “Cindy is Cinderella, you know.”
“You have been trading on that one well known success fable for years,” Stormy's words were scorn laced. “You need a new venue.”
“Really, Stormy, must you pick on her?” The Tooth Fairy was frowning. “We are just enjoying ourselves. We don't need the jabs from your tongue. Your storms are bad enough.”
“It's the new order of things, didn't you know? You really need to enter the current century or you will be falling apart like Nephene.” She pointed at the half-way off the back left wing.
Lillie jumped up and returned the wing to its proper position and left a stream of flower petals between her chair and Nephene's.
“Oh, look, spring is almost here,” said the Tooth Fairy. Lillie is predicting its arrival with her flower petals.”
“See,” snorted Stormy. “The same old scenario over and over. Maybe Cyber Fairy was right. White Fairy needs a tablet to let the world know that spring is coming. She could do a YouTube video. Maybe Cyber could give her some pointers. Right now her predictions are useless.”
Collected gasps came from everyone but Nephele. She pointed a finger at Stormy and said, “Cyber won't be helping anyone. You had best hold your tongue or you'll be as useless as she is.”
Stormy looked at Nephele. “What? You won't say that when she returns.”
“Nephele, what have you done?” cried the Fairy Godmother. She was well aware of the powers the Hera look-a-like possessed.
“Let's just say that for Cyber Space Fairy there isn't a Prince Charming, there arem't any talking animals in cyberspace, and there's no happily ever after. She will just spool on forever.”
The End.
About the Author: Mari Collier
Mari Collier was born and raised on a farm in Iowa. From there she moved to Phoenix, then to North Bend, WA. When she retired, she found refuge in a small community in the high desert of California. She is an active member of the Twentynine Palms Historical Society and is on their Board of Directors. She writes two columns for the Old Schoolhouse Journal and enjoys family, friends, the local art galleries, and theaters.
Books by Mari Collier:
Earthbound
Gather The Children
Before We Leave
Return of the Maca
Thalia and Earth
Fall and Rise of the Macas
Twisted Tales from the Northwest
Twisted Tales from the Universe
Twisted Tales from the Desert
Twisted Tales from a Skewed Mind
Man, True Man
Links:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Mari-Collier-205325882886976/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/child7mari
Website: http://maricollier.com/
The Ginger Man
By Chris Tetreault-Blay
Declan Starker pushed his foot down a little harder on the accelerator, mindful of not letting his speed creep high enough that his wife Grace would notice that he was doing several miles over the limit. They were running late. He knew they would be. It happened every time.
He glanced in the rear view mirror and watched his little girl sleep, just for a second. It brought a smile to his face. She always exuded peace whenever she slept, calming him. Grace looked into the back of the car at the same moment, the proud parents sharing a momentary smile as Declan returned his gaze to the road ahead.
It was mid-morning, the sun now high above the trees and spraying its warmth through the windshield. Beads of sweat formed on Declan's brow, but not a reaction to the warmth of the day alone. His heart was racing and his body began to chill as he looked down at the clock on the dash. They were so late.
He had bundled his little family in the car in good time that morning, pleased that he had chosen to pack the cases and bags into the boot the night before. But the wretched road closure the wrong side of Axminster had forced them to take an unannounced detour through tight lanes. They got no further than half a mile through the village when the traffic stopped dead in front of them. The single-track lane was not designed to take that volume of traffic at one time, trying to force past each other in two directions.
Overall the diversion and subsequent jam had cost them nearly an hour. The race was now on to get to the ferry port, still some eighty-odd miles away and with only an hour and a half to get there. The only other thing he was thankful for, however, was that Eleanora had spent most of the journey asleep so far. Car journeys were always like a spin on the wheel of fortune – they could never predict just how many times they would have to stop for Ellie's impromptu toilet breaks, many of them false alarms.
But so far, so good. As soon as Declan was able to pull back onto the main road, he made up for lost time. They were now on the M27 bound for Portsmouth. The final stretch.
'It's sixty, love,' Grace informed him.
'No, we're on a motorway. National means seventy,' he replied brusquely but with a smile.
'Even so, you're doing eighty,' his wife replied. She always had to have the last word. It infuriated him only for a second, before he realised that he no longer had an argument.
'Haven't got time to hang around now thanks to them back there.' Declan had no idea what had caused the road closure, whether it was an accident that had ended in injury or fatality, but without the facts he decided that he was not obliged to care. It had been an inconvenience, and
that was that.
Declan viewed the next marker board on the side of the motorway, trying to quickly calculate roughly how many minutes they had left to cover the rest of the miles. He had managed to pick up another five minutes, so decided that his speed had been justified. It was a small victory.
'I need a wee,' came the sweet monotone voice from the back of the car. Declan closed his eyes and squeezed the top of the steering wheel, frustrated once more. Grace looked at him, stifling a smile. Grace looked at him, stifling a smile. She always said he was doubly cute when he was stressed.
Grace turned in her seat and reached behind her, putting a hand on her daughter's leg. 'OK, sweetie. We will stop in a few minutes at the next services. Can you hold it for me?'
The little girl nodded, causing the dark curls that framed her cherub-like face to bounce. Grace glanced at her husband as she turned back around, placing a hand on his as it rested on the gear stick. Declan was bristling, and he knew that she could feel it too. 'It'll only be quick,' she said quietly, leaning towards him. 'I promise. We can't make her wait.'
Declan gave a single nod, looking once more into the rear-view mirror. Ellie smiled sweetly back at him, washing away the anger. He smiled back to her. Within another mile, he followed the next exit towards the final service stop before Southampton.
* * *
The service stop didn't hold all of the luxuries of many. This one held merely a fuel station and a couple of large gravel car parks, with a sprawling playing field running behind. Without the luxury of an enclosed toilet, Grace bought the travel potty out of the backpack and set it on the ground next to the car. Declan sat at the wheel, the anxiety rising in him as he glanced at his watch every few seconds.
He heard one of the rear doors open again and looked back sharply. Grace lifted her eyebrows and shook her head with a smile as she grabbed the small knitted gingerbread man from Ellie's car seat. Despite all of the money that they had spent in her three years on countless toys, she never let go of the small cuddly toy that came free with her Christmas dress from a few months before.
A couple of minutes later, Grace buckled her daughter back into her car seat and Declan's hand turned the key even before his wife had settled into her seat.
'Ah bugger,' she said, 'I forgot to get rid of this.' She held up the used baggy from the travel potty and asked silently with her eyes for Declan to take it. He tutted as he took it and heaved himself from the car. He could feel their holiday steadily slipping away. He stood for a moment and swept his gaze around the car parks, noticing the single red metal bin at the far side of the car park. His feet crunched over the gravel as he stomped towards it. Within a few feet of the bin, he tossed the bag into the bin.
The rush of the speeding traffic from the motorway had masked the sudden commotion around where his car stood. It wasn't until he was on the other side of the hedge that separated the car parks that he saw the group of darkly-clad men that surrounded his car. Two steps closer and he heard Grace's cries.
With his final step, everything went black.
* * *
There were four of them. All dressed in black jeans and hooded tops. They had been in the empty kiosk shop when the Starker's had arrived. The leader of the group – the smallest of the lot – had been busy tying up the store clerk in the small store room out the back when one of the others had alerted him to their uninvited guests. Tightening the gag around the clerk's mouth and landing a fist heavily across his temple, the leader stomped to the front of the store and peered through the blinds on the door.
They waited, watching their every movement. The family were about to leave when suddenly they presented the villainous team with a fresh challenge; Declan left the car and took a stroll across the wide car parks, leaving his luscious wife alone.
Or so they thought.
There were no words, no questions ask and no answers given to what happened next. He led his band of minions out of the shop towards the car. Three of them surrounded each side of the vehicle as the Leader rushed to Grace's side and threw open the door. Grace, who had been oblivious to the group's arrival as she reached behind to tighten Ellie's harness, did not have time to scream as the Leader grabbed her hair and covered her mouth.
She was pulled from the car, her legs dragging across the gravel, the skin taken from her knees, before she was brought to her feet and then thrown onto her front across the bonnet of the car. The Leader stood behind her, commanding two of his minions to hold her in place as he loosened his belt and undid his fly.
'Bingo,' he said through his heavy breath. Grace was wearing a skirt, thus speeding up the process. One of the Leader's hands reached between her legs tore down her underwear and with one thrust he was inside her. She screamed. He howled in delight as he started to invade her body.
'No, please! Please!' Grace screamed. It did no good.
'Hey boss, we got company,' the third henchman called. As the tallest of the group, this man could clearly see over the car. Declan had started his return back to his family, but Grace's sudden scream had alerted him. He now started to move more quickly.
'Deal with him!' the Leader grunted.
The tall man left his post immediately and crossed behind the car, parallel to the path Declan was taking. A couple of strides later and he had crept up behind Declan. One of the tall man's gangly arms shot towards the sky, the iron bar in his fist glinting against the sun, before it was brought down against Declan's head. There was a sickening crunch as the blow broke his skull.
Declan fell limply to the ground, his body twitching. The tall man grabbed at the dying man's shirt collar and dragged his body through the dusty ground, dumping him next to the car.
'Easy!' he declared to the Leader upon his return. The Leader continued to pound away at Grace as he held up a fist towards the tall man, a gesture of their triumph. Grace's head was forced to look in the direction of her now dead husband, causing fresh screams. The sound of her struggle, of her horror, drove the Leader to the point of no return. With a few final gyrations, he groaned as his body tensed and began to shudder. Then his movements ceased, his face drawn in a sickly grin. His chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath.
'Finish her too,' he shouted towards the tall man, throwing Grace face-first to the ground. The tall man stepped towards her battered body and brought the bloodied bar down across her back, her shoulders, her head.
Three blows and it was all over, all in the time it took the Leader to secure the belt around his jeans once more.
The four men exchanged high fives, whooping with each slap. The two whose job had been to hold Grace across the bonnet walked around the car, cupping their eyes as they stared in through the windows, surveying their next getaway.
'Oh shit…' one of the smaller men said as he looked through the car window. 'Boss?' he yelled.
The Leader crossed to him, agitated, following the direction of the henchman's finger as he pointed at the glass. He grabbed the handle and tore open the door to find Ellie, trembling violently in her seat. Her face now ashen, her tiny innocent eyes wide. She stared ahead towards the windscreen. Her breath shallowed, her nostrils flared with each attempt to suck in more air.
'Shit…' the Leader said as he stood frozen, a new form of reality now finding its place in his mind. His body ran cold as the child turned her head towards him.
Then she screamed. Indecipherable words spilled from her mouth as she fought to breathe, to speak. In one final act of cowardice, the group of darkly-clad men ran, leaving little Ellie to scream and sob to herself.
* * *
Even at only three-years-old, Ellie knew that everything she had just witnessed was wrong. She had no idea of what had truly just happened, only that it had caused her mummy pain. It had caused her to cry. These mean men, whoever they were, came out of nowhere and had grabbed her mummy, had hurt her, then thrown her to the ground.
She had witnessed the rape, saw her mother's terrified eyes and heard her muffled screams
as she lay pinned to the front of the car. The shock quickly took hold, freezing her in her seat. She was trapped. Unable to breathe, unable to do anything.
Where was her daddy, too? Why had he left them and not returned? He would be back soon, she told herself.
As soon as the first scream left her body, it was like a dam had been broken. There was no stopping it. The world around her disappeared as she lost herself to the output of the terror she had been forced to witness.
She grew tired very quickly, but no-one came. Her cries soon dried up, leaving her chest sore and her eyes puffy. She sniffed, unable to make another sound. The hours passed and darkness descended. But nobody came.
The car door beside her had been left open, letting the chill of the evening air drift in and case itself around her. She started to shiver.
Ellie had never coped well with the dark. Her night light still had to be left on, for every time she woke she felt the shadows in her bedroom touching her. Now coupled with the cool night breeze, she felt them even more. She imagined long, dark bony fingers trailing over her.
Through it all, Ellie still had hold of the only thing that brought her comfort. The small, soft toy in her hand; her ginger-man. She squeezed it tighter, brought it to her face and hugged it close. Her tears soaked into his woollen body.
'Please don't leave me,' she sobbed. The new burst of tears lasted only a fraction of the time as before, before sleep took hold.
* * *
She didn't dream. It felt as though she only closed her eyes for a few moments, staring into the darkness, her mind finally numbed by the nothingness that it brought. But in truth, she lay asleep for over four hours as the night drew in. As her mind finally awoke, she thought she was at home on Christmas Day, gazing at the twinkling lights on the tinsel-laden tree.
But the colours grew and swirled before her, before they began to take form new shapes. Soon, her vision was filled with flashing shades of red and blue, against a black background. Whispers danced all around her, growing louder. The haze finally lifted as she prised her eyes open.
Once Upon A Broken Dream: A Creativia Anthology Page 8
