Upon noticing my presence in the doorway the smile faded from La Jardiniers face, replaced with a vicious scowl. He ordered Jon to continue whipping the Angel and turned his attention to me more fully.
I raised my dagger defensively and took refuge behind the massive wine casks that were stacked in precise rows throughout the cellar. Asking what was going on in my most confident voice, I drew on all of my remaining strength to keep my voice from giving away my shock and fear at the gruesome scene.
While I was tucked behind the casks I could no longer see La Jardinier, but I could hear him. His voice took on an almost ethereal quality as it raised above the crack of the whip and scream of the angel without seeming to rise to a yell as mine had.
Instead of answering my question he seemed to be puzzling over how I was able to get this deep into La Roseraie past his guards, monologuing his musings and seeming almost casually dismissive of any threat I may pose.
Hearing his footsteps drawing nearer I moved along the row of wine casks and ducked behind another row farther from where the footsteps of La Jardinier were rounding the corner I had hidden behind.
I yelled again this time louder and more forcefully asking what was going on in this forsaken cellar.
La Jardinier’s footsteps disappeared and an eery silence seemed to creep into the room from the cold stone walls, a deafeningly unnatural and oppressive silence that seemed to smother all sound and threatened a permanent loss of the sensation.
Suddenly I felt the heavy hilt of a dagger slam into the base of my neck and all of the sound that had been smothered by the unnatural silence just moments before came rushing back. The screams of the Angel chained to the wall, the crack of the whip as Jon struck the defenceless creature again, my own choked gargling as I slumped to the floor and the clattering of my dagger as it fell from my grasp.
As I fell, just before my vision closed in completely to envelope me in the blackness of unconsciousness, I turned and caught sight of the most horrifyingly beautiful sight I had ever witnessed.
La Jardinier’s blue eyes were now burning a piercing red, his alabaster skin seemed to be radiating a brilliant white light, and I swore I could see a Halo about his head, resting crookedly on his light brown hair, before the darkness overtook me and my body laid on the bare stone floor.
In the swimming blackness I heard Jon’s voice asking someone named Lucifer what he was supposed to do with the body.
Lucifer? I recognized that name.
But before I could register anything more my consciousness faded completely and I was enveloped in the darkness.
Alexander Motus, Guardian #51
