No one ever asks the right questions.

The Immortal

Jillian held the gaze with the clock’s second hand, not wavering, even when Lilith pushed her arm gently to signify that the teacher was looking at her. It was almost two minutes and fifteen seconds until the long, familiar drone of the bell tolled, and she would be free at last to go home.

She tapped her foot impatiently, the black combat boots making a soft thump as it hit the carpet. The chatter of her classmates buzzed in her ears like an insect just out of reach, eternally annoying and Omni-present. “Stop it, Jill.” Whispered Lilith harshly, and Jillian paid her no mind, merely fingering the length of her long black curls. Something was strangely different about today. The skies blacker, the constant darkness she saw seeming to get deeper, more impenetrable. Yes, she thought, there is something different about today. Though for the life of her she could not tell what it was.

The loud buzz of the end-of-the-day bell rang in her ears, snapping her back to reality and she jumped to her feet, all but running to the door, trying to escape the closeness of the math room.

It was raining. The sun clouded by the dreary day, by the grief. She looked up from underneath her wide brimmed hat and smiled distastefully. Louis. He never ceased to amaze her. Dressed all in white, he was the spectacle of the funeral. But, to those that knew it, white was the true color of death.

The flash came to Jillian the instant that her eyes beheld him. He was tall, muscular and had dark grey eyes, like a stormy sea at night. His hair was the color of burnished copper, down to his shoulder and glowing like the sun. “Louis.” she breathed, her green eyes wide. He shouldn’t be here. Not now. Not today.

He looked up at her, as if he had heard, and she was taken aback by how familiar she was with the hypnotizing feeling that came over her when she looked into his stormy eyes. She had been enthralled, obsessed with him when she had seen him last, over two hundred years before. When she had fallen in love with him.

He seemed amused somehow and looked down, the upwards glance unnoticed by the popular girls slowing their pace and fawning over him, almost as unnoticed as the upward glance had been, but not quite. Despite her dark appearance and his angelic one, darkness, it seemed, did not always equate to evil. Just as light did not always portend to good.

She had come to the decision when she had made that mistake so many years ago.

“What’s up, Jill?” Lilith asked and followed her gaze. “Have you fallen for the hot new guy, too?”

“So you noticed?” Jillian said dryly and looked away. “Are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah,” she said, “If you’re still up to it.”

She grinned. “Popcorn and vampire flicks? Who would pass up that?”

Lilith grinned too. “My place at eight then. You bring the movies…”

“And I bring the popcorn.” she said with a nod and a faint smile . “Of course. I’ll see you then, okay? I have to ask the English teacher a question.”

Lilith frowned at her and looked back to Louis, but made no objections. “Don’t be late.” she muttered and slipped into the end of the day crowd, one more adolescent in the train of innocence- the oh so fragile innocence that would soon be broken.

“And how have you been in the past few centuries, Fire-eyes?”  Louis said casually, his voice had the slight air of French in it, not completely erased from his lifetime with her.

“Having enough fun to forget about you for a good while.” Jillian murmured like a curse. “Wasn’t it enough with Moraine?”

“Moraine was a simple fad, mon cherie, nothing more.” he said calmly. “It was always you I was fascinated with.”

“Go to hell, Louis.” Pronouncing it the American way, with the s, and turning a

“Easier said than done, mon jolie,” Louis, right on her tail. “You knew I would come.”

“I won’t break my vow to Gabriella, Louis.” she said seriously. Gabriella was her younger sister, who made her make the promise. She couldn’t seem to remember her face of late though. “You realized that when you came here.”

“All the more reason to come.” he said cheerfully. “We are the immortal ones, my Fire-eyes! We are the gods among men, why can’t you see that?”

She chuckled to herself. “Still singing the same song you had two hundred years ago. ‘We are the gods,’” she mimicked. “’We are the invincible.’ I’ve heard enough.”

And with that she left, her memory unfolding like pages turning in a book.

Moraine kissed him deeply and passionately, as Jillian had never seen her sister feel for a man. She was always oddly dispassionate about men, but this one had seemed to enthrall her. She didn’t blame Moraine for feeling that way. She wasn’t the first to be hypnotized by Louis’s avant-garde ideals, and angelic appearance. She had felt the same way towards him, until just a few seconds before actually.

 She breathed his name, and both he and Moraine made no sign that they had heard her. She was besotted by him now. There was nothing she could do.

She saw the flash of silver, and with the lightning quick speed of a dedicated assassin the knife plunged into her heart.

He had killed her sister. He was the evil one. She told herself. Not Gabriella.


That felt like years ago now. Jillian’s knife was at her hip, another identical one in her hand. Rain had just started to drizzle, and she felt her black eyeliner stain her cheeks, rain melding with her tears. It was his fault not hers. She did not kill her sister. She was completely innocent.

“I knew you would be here, my Fire-eyes.” he said, his voice clear despite the pattering of the rain. “You always were one for theatrics.”

Jillian bit her tongue,  not trusting herself to speak and turned. He wore a long black overcoat and a black hat, his brilliant eyes glowing in the blackening limelight. In his hand, as she had expected him to have, was a knife the length of his forearm and almost as thick. 

“I came to settle the score.” he said, and twirled the knife in his hands. “And, of course, your conscious.”

“When you killed Moraine I swore to avenge her,” she said through clenched teeth. “And I will. Tonight.”

“And what makes you believe it was me that killed her?”

“Your knife.” Jillian said with an innocent shrug. “Your kiss. And the fact that you were the only other person in the room.”

“And what makes you so sure of that?” Louis said, simply rephrasing his previous question. “what makes you so sure it was all my fault? What if I told you that I knew who killed your sister, and she’s a lot closer than you think?”

Part of her had hidden it, blocked it out. She looked up at the balcony from which the knife had been thrown and gasped. No it couldn’t be not Gabriella!

“And how did I not remember this?” she demanded. “How was it hidden from me.”

“, she’s a lot more skilled at cloaking herself than any of us are, and has developed quite an ability. Memories, no matter how insignificant can be erased and re-written. It’s a simple process really, though I doubt you care.”

“Even if you didn’t kill her, you still betrayed me!” Jillian proclaimed. “I loved you!”

“I loved you in return; nothing was really between Moraine and I.” Louis said calmly, then chuckled. “It was a set up, Jillian, and Gabriella’s been playing you for years since.”

And he kissed her the same way that she had remembered he had kissed her, filled with passion and love. In that instant she knew he was right.

She was going to kill her.

2 responses

  1. EPIC!

    March 11, 2009 at 11:58

  2. Lily-wa

    As über as ever. 😀

    April 13, 2009 at 11:58

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