It’s time – PD

In the final part of the introduction of Reficul, we begin to understand the reasons behind his summons of the former Princess of Greed and Ambition.

 

The World inside Scar’s Hat 

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It’s time

Lydia had ever right to be suspicious. After all, she had been summoned from the plane of death to now stand before what could only be a necromancer….or a very powerful warlock. Being killed by a witch had left Lydia with a hatred for their kind, but Ref’s words only made her curious, when he said they had interests in the same girl. Raising her hands, as though to try and use her powers against this man…in the hat, she was shocked to find that she had no power to speak of. Lydia kept trying to blast the man, but all she ended up doing was looking stupid. Ref chuckled at Lydia’s predicament.

“Dear, try as you might you have no real power in this place. When you…died all your powers went to Mariela. You…are simply a demonic shadow of your former self.” The tone of Ref’s voice showed little to no emotion, as though he had this valve that turned off all his human qualities. In a way, it helped to keep those that Ref dealt with from seeing just what kind of a man he was. What his…motivation would be.

Lydia slowly lowered her hands – panting heavily. Odd, she felt real. Not like a shadow at all. Her eyes darted about the blackened ruins, then down at the symbol that had been drawn on the floor. The two dead officers….and of course the items that were placed at each corner of the pentagram. Dark art magic. The right hand corner of the edge of her mouth twitched, as though she was about to go off in a terrible tirade of venomous words and curses. The former Princess of Greed and ambition felt powerless and weak in this state – but her hatred and her resolve were just as strong as ever. Ref picked up on it instantly. There were so many questions that this demon had, and yet she appeared lost for words – for once. Ref truly had her over a barrel.

Ha…I am so surprised that you still let your emotions get the better of you. Perhaps that is why…you fell so easily to the sin of Greed. Has…death taught you nothing at all?” The smarmy way that Ref spoke finally made a clean shot. Lydia being now an easy target. He questioned her ability to rise above the sin. Her eyes followed him as he smacked his lips together and then uttered. “Perhaps I would have been better served bringing back Mammon….Hmm?”

“Mammon died a fool’s death!” There it was….the anger, and oh how beautiful it was. “He was easy to manipulate. I simply used his hatred of women to make him fall for the biggest trap of all. That…and his Greed!” Lydia practically snarled these words. Spittle forming on the edge of her lips. At this, Ref stepped into the symbol of the Pentagram and stared Lydia down.

“Now I am beginning to see the woman behind the demon. Yes…you were exactly the one I wanted. Though you lack a little fire power now, I have a….friend that can help with that.” One of the important things to note about Ref was his ability to form contacts in the unlikeliest of places. Forming alliances with the unlikely. The things he did…would both shock and amaze his enemies. Enemies that either were of his choosing, or…were handed down, like that of his long standing hatred of the Ramoskas.

Lydia didn’t trust this man at all. In fact, her trust levels overall had taken a battering. All she knew was, that unless she followed this man to…wherever it was he spoke of she was unable to do anything. Swallowing, as her temper cooled a little, Lydia asked. “How do you know so much about me….to even bring me back?’ This was probably the first honest question Lydia had ever asked. She was starting to feel that maybe he did need her, though why that was, was a mystery.

It was then that Ref pulled out an artifact, that was in fact a pocket watch. A very special one. He flipped open the catch and it revealed a worn face, where it was actually hard to see the numbers or the watch face underneath. It was unusual, and really didn’t look all that important. Not to Lydia anyways.

“It was time…” Three simple words. The power of these words however, would be lost on Lydia, who stared back at him blankly. “Time?”

Again, Ref chuckled for a moment, before reaching for Lydia’s hand. “Time my dear, is a curse to some and a gift to others. The question is, who controls it? Right now the sands are shifting quickly and this has allowed for a chance for the likes of you to return….as well as unleashing the mother of all destruction. Not just in this reality, but in others….including Hell.” As it stood, no one was truly safe. Like the incoming tide, Ref wanted to ride in on this tsunami of destruction….and he wasn’t the only one.

Taking out the chalk, he walked to the nearest wall, and started to draw a simple door. It was almost child like in its design, but that was the beauty of it. In the center he drew a replica of the watch he held in his hand. As he finished the last of the detail, he then placed the ancient watch up to the door. The whole wall began to shake, and rattle, as if the house itself was about to fall down about their ears. A greenish hue appeared like a neon light around the edges of the chalk marking, followed by a green mist that engulfed the room.

“We have an appointment at the Reality gate, dear. Time to go meet my little green faced beauty.”

The door burst open as though powered by an incredible force, and with a simple tip of his hat, Ref led Lydia…who didn’t look at all pleased, into the Reality gate.

~RB~

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Bringing back the Bitch – PD

What could the strange man in the hat want inside the burnt remains of the old house you might ask?  Let’s find out.  

 

The World inside Scar’s hat 

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Bringing back the Bitch

Part Two

It was true…the spirits didn’t lie. This house, this place that reeked of death was special in more ways than one. According to the police reports that the man in the hat had so ruthless acquired, this marked the spot where Mariela perished in the flames. Ah yes…that family. How long the man in the hat had kept watch over them, taking over from his father…and his father before that. Hatred never truly dies. It is possible to be bred into each family member, following on throughout the centuries from that initial moment where a high ranking member of Mariela’s ancestry had made a terrible mistake and lashed out in fury – the consequences of this were to see generations of her family persecuted. With Mariela’s death however, you would think that would have been the end of it. How wrong they were.

Witches were hated. That was a fact that was undeniable, but if you were clever enough to manipulate humans into believing that you were on their side – well, that just made setting up others all the easier. Take for example a man that went to such lengths to put a plan into place, and all to do with a future event that he foresaw. it was all about…opportunities. Impregnating a woman that would go on to have a daughter…a girl, who would end up being friends with the girl who would die only to rise and become one of the greatest rulers of Hell. Keeping his distance, watching from the shadows was something of a bitter sweet joy. But he was more than just a shadow….so much more.

Now the girl had gone, and after tracing her movements in her final hours and tapping her phone, she was to meet with the brothers of the target. After that…she vanished…along with them. There was a link…there had to be. The man in the hat held the picture of the beautiful Tessa in his hand and quietly folded it and placed it into his pocket neatly for safe keeping. Smacking his lips and then with a somewhat somber expression, he turned around to the bodies of the two dead police officers. Killing them had been intentional. His purpose was about to become exposed.

Taking out that same piece of chalk that he had used in the hallway, he began to draw a pentagram upon the floor of the burnt out basement. The eerie scratch of the chalk along the concrete was the only sound – coupled of course with his heavy breaths. He did not utter a word till the pentagram was complete. When he finished, he reached into another pocket and placed down items at each point. These were ordinary pieces – a bracelet, a lock of hair, a small doll, a note and a raven’s feather. When each was in place, he went to the Sheriff and dragged his body across the floor till it reached the edge of the pentagram. Taking out a blade, he cut the man’s throat – spilling his blood into the chalk drawn symbol. The second man; the deputy, the man in the hat did the same but at the opposite end. Taking out five black candles, he put them at each point.

As the blood of the two men reached the center of the symbol – drawn together by a strange force, the man in the hat took out a small yellowed parchment that had been torn out of a book….a very old book.

Closing his eyes, he began to chant. His voice shallow and quiet at first, only building as he started to breathe life into his summons.

Attenrobendum eos,
ad ligandum eos,
potiter eos,
coram me.

All the candles burst into flame, with the room filling with a chilling wind, as though a dark crypt was being opened. One that never ever should be.

The blooded pool glimmered and then started to rise as it began to take the form of a woman…a woman who herself had been murdered by the young witch. The most shocking thing was….that she was once a Princess of Ambition…A Princess of Greed. Taken down by the same girl, who had died in this very spot. Bringing back the only bitch who could truly direct the man in the hat to his ultimate goal.

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Fleshing out into her original form, she turned around to stare at the man in the hat warily.

“Who are you?”

Lydia glared at him, before looking down at herself and then smiling to see that she was not disfigured or aged in anyways. The man in the hat then removed his hat and bowed before the former Princess of Greed.

“Your new partner. We have…. interests in the same….girl.” He extended his hand to her with a wry smirk. “I’m someone that hates Mariela more than you ever could.”

https://i0.wp.com/resources1.news.com.au/images/2014/11/04/1227112/302465-06e4b432-6088-11e4-a822-f0e45dcacc2e.jpg~RB~ 

The Devil Walks Among Us – Part One : PD.

This is my introduction of Reficul into the Princess Diaries stories.

Razorbackwriter:

The World inside Scar’s hat

Part One

The Devil Walks Among Us 

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There are those that think that Hell is nothing more than an ideal. A place that you go if you have committed sin, and are banished from Heaven. There are those that believe in Heaven, and that angels walk among us. Protecting us, guiding us with a silent hand….watching over us. If that is true, then is it possible that the Devil has his own agents? Those that walk among the living and watch them as they lead them into sin….and then death? Deal makers, betrayers, oh yes…there are even those that believe that we are fueled by sin…which makes for easy pickings. To look at the world now, it was already reaching an age of the sixth extinction. Greed, Lust, Hunger…all driving forces in the never ending battle against good and evil.

Hatred for the supernatural was common place among the unbelieving. Events that could not be explained often were blamed on those that were different, out of the ordinary. For centuries such creatures were persecuted, murdered and hunted till they hid from the very shadows themselves. Forced to practice in secret. But even those that hid their powers left behind clues that would be followed by the most dedicated of hunters. Those that operated above the law, even breaking it if they had too. Following every clue…watching…waiting for the right time to move in. There were rewards to be had, and now the whispers had reached the ears of the worst of the worst. A man driven by a family code that had been passed down for generations. From Father to son till now.

Standing before the burnt out ruins of what was a typical family home, stood a man wearing a black coat and matching fedora. His hands hidden deep within his pockets. Dark shaded glasses blocked out a view of his eyes, but he was scanning the smoldering ruins. Strange that after all this time, the smell of the burning embers remained. The fire…never truly went out. There was a reason for this….a very good one. The man appeared to be waiting. Holding off before actually setting foot on the property. He must have been standing there a good hour or more, till finally a black sedan pulled up in behind him. Shutting off the engine, two men got out. Both were wearing suits, and one had a policeman’s badge clipped to his belt buckle. Each closed the doors with a light thud, whilst the man on the pavement refused to turn around to acknowledge them.

“Do you have it?” The man in the fedora asked almost casually, his tongue wetting his lips as though dry.

The first man took out a yellow envelope and then handed it to the man in the fedora.

“Case file about the fire, along with some information about a ..” The Detective took out a notebook and flipped it open, as he searched for the girl’s name. The man in the hat interrupted…“Tessa Monroe..yes.” He showed something of an odd smirk, before then going dead pan once more and taking the file out of the envelope, passing the envelope back to the second man before flipping it open. He started to hum to himself as he flicked through the police reports, which was shoddy at best, but there was a line in it that had the right edge of his lip twitch.

He closed the file with a snap and rolled it so he could tuck it inside his coat jacket.

“I think now is the time to enter…” He started off and walked up the pathway, with the detective and the other man both looking at each other with apprehension. It was common knowledge that few ever wanted to enter the grounds. Rumors had been rife about unexplained happenings since the fire and the townspeople were reluctant to speak about it openly.

Taking the first step, the man in the black fedora glanced back, and was amused to see that neither man was following.

“Don’t worry Sheriff…that badge you wear should protect you from….them.” It was almost like he was daring the man, who huffed and tugged on his own jacket. The Sheriff started after the man in the fedora, who by now had stepped through the blackened door way. The second man held back for a moment, before his shoulders sagged forward and he headed in on after the Sheriff. There was so much mystery to this man in the hat. From what both they both believed was that he was some sort of government agent. Everything was…off the books. Little did they realize that the one he worked for…was far more dangerous then any one western government.

Walking down the inner corridor, the man in the hat tapped along the walls with his hand till he finally heard a hollow sound. Grinning to himself, he took out a piece of chalk and made a strange marking on the wall, which had the sheriff and his deputy baffled. Catching sight of their worried expressions, the man in the hat lied….

“A little trick my father taught me.” He chuckled darkly, and this sinister tone could not be mistaken. Looking to his right, he saw the door for the basement, and then let out a breathe as though this was what he was looking for.

“This way….” But instead of going first, he urged the officers to take the stairs before him. “After you of course.”

The Sheriff shrugged, before taking to the stairs and going, down – the deputy gulped as he was getting a sense of the creeps at being in this house. He finally relented and started to follow the sheriff. At this point, the man in the black hat pulled out a gun with a silencer and then started off after them.

Two shots were fired in the darkness. Both in the back of the head. Point blank range. Their bodies crumpled to the floor with soulless eyes staring out at….a secret basement room. Stepping over the two bodies, the man in the hat then set his gun down on a table, as he took Tessa’s picture out of the file that he had been in his jacket pocket. He stared at the picture and hummed quietly. If the report was correct….and she had been here, this was how he was going to find her.

The spirits don’t lie.

~RB~