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"Revelations"

Chapter 12 ~ Swords of Horror


Nick felt his hands tremble with nervousness as he walked through the dark hallway. It was an unusual place. Nick couldn't identify his surroundings as the large moons blasted light upon him. He shivered, peering further into the darkness. Beyond the hall, he noticed a set of large velvet curtains billowing against the winds. He could feel the curiousness as voices invaded his mind as he walked further downward. There was something concealed within the curtains that he needed to know. He could sense it.

Before entering the curtains, a noise caught him off guard. He whirled around in the darkness to find shadows bouncing against the dark purple walls. Nick felt a smile curve to his lips as he heard the faint laughing behind him. There were small beats of skipping as a familiar song was sung. Nick turned back and reached out for the curtains, knowing that Rose was behind him playing.

"Hello?" Nick called out, ignoring Rose's song of delight. His voice vibrated against the purple walls of the large room. Nick's eyes took in the large quantities of red, feeling as if he were submersed in a sea of blood. He couldn't see anything but red. Nick let his hands reach out farther, trying to grasp at something tangible. He heard a rough voice call out.

"Child! Swing harder!"

Nick squinted, stopping his movements with a shudder. The man sounded so familiar. Could that be his father's voice? It sounded so. He smiled as he finally rushed forward into the darkness, tangling himself within the giant drapes. Nick's eyes grew wide as he watched. His father stood before him. He was tall, regal, and thick flaxen curls upon his tanned head. His facial features were murky with the mist surrounding them, but Nick could tell. That was his father.

"Dad!" Nick barked, rushing forward.

Something caught against the heel of his foot. Nick yelped as he crashed against the bright red tiles. His back slammed sharply against a solid material, causing the air to be knocked from his lungs. He struggled for breaths of air as two shadows cast upon him. A familiar laughter continued within the background. He looked up into his father's dark blue eyes, and then his eyes fixed upon a sea-green color. He squinted, the other shadow slowly coming into focus.

She stood above him, her honey blonde curls swaying against the soft breezes, which billowed behind the scarlet curtains. Her eyes caught the light of the seas - swirls of blue and green admitted a soft golden ring around her pupil. Her pale skin glowed against the light of the room, contrasting against the dark scarlet and royal purples. Her slender body was fitted into a tight leather skirt that ended at her mid-thigh with a large slice up the right side. The leather top was slashed at the top of her breasts, and shredded around her shoulders. A knife was strapped to her right thigh, and a gun on her left arm. A dark essence hung about her. She narrowed her eyes at Nick, threatening him with her presence.

"Now, daughter," the man ordered.

The woman raised a large sword, which had lain neatly in the holster around her bare hip. She swung the giant sword in swift circles about her shoulders. The blade sliced softly against the air, calling out to Nick's heart. She raised the blade against her shoulder. Nick squinted as the blade glinted in the light. He moaned as a crest flashed against the side of the sword. The emblem went blurry before Nick could react.

"NOW!" the man roared.

The woman pointed the blade toward Nick's heart. Nick squealed out in surprise. His heart thumped against the costal arch of his ribcage. His breath quickened as he struggled for air. His pupils contracted with fright. Nick reached up in a flawed effort, trying to cover himself.

"DAD! DON'T DO THIS!" he screamed.

"You were never my son."

"Nor was I your sister," the woman called.

"WHAT?!" Nick shrieked. "WHO ARE YOU?!"

Her blade plunged forward.

*~*~*~*

"NICK! WAKE UP! NICK! HEY! ICE!" someone screamed into Nick's ear. He felt the roughness of a shaking in his shoulders. Nick shot forward, screaming out in pure terror. He pushed against a heavy mass. He felt something push off his chest, falling to the floor. Nick began to thrust punches out into the air. His eyes squeezed shut tightly as he grabbed at his chest. He screamed again. "NICKOLAS! STOP IT, DAMNIT! IT'S ME! YOUR TWIN!"

Calmness surrounded Nick immediately as Rose's voice entered his ears. It was only Rose. His twin. He took a deep breath, slowly opening his eyes. His room emerged from the darkness of his sight. He looked down to see Rose laying on the floor, staring up at him in complete shock. Nick shook his head, feeling his chest for a large wound. There was no gap. No hole. No blade. No piercing. Nick looked up, blinking back his tears.

"What's wrong?" Rose whispered softly, peering up from the floor. Nick had been screaming for a period of time. He screamed for their father, but he was dead. Their father had died before they had met the world from their mother's womb. Rose shook her head, trying to understand. The fear wavered against his eyes as tears fell down his tanned cheeks.

"Nothing," Nick whispered, running his hands through his hair. He smirked as he shook his head again in disbelief. It had been a dream - a silly dream. That was it. Just a simple dream. However, who was the woman? Hadn't he seen her before? The familiarity of the woman struck him as odd. He took a deep breath, finally gazing back at his twin. "I just had a nasty nightmare."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"What was it about?" Rose asked curiously as she sat on the bed. She folded her arms across her chest, leaning in toward Nick. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. Nick reached out to tug at his sister's hair.

'Never my sister? What did she mean by that?' Nick pondered for a moment.

"Ice?" Rose called.

"What?" Nick jerked.

"What's wrong? Are you worried about the war? It's going to be cake, you know? We're going to kick some heavy butt! We'll be unstoppable!" Rose predicted with a smile on her face. She clapped her hands, hooting wildly. The idea of war seemed silly. She felt invincible as she watched the TV that past evening. She watched Nick frown immediately. "What?"

"You think that war is a piece of cake?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Have you seen the TV?"

"It's probably just to boost ratings."

"Rain-"

"We'll kick butt! We'll come home with tons of medals! We'll be the top of our platoon! We'll be the best of the best. Everyone will be kissing our feet! Maybe they'll make us rulers of this country!"

"ROSE!" Nick screeched in disbelief. He glared at his sister with anger. His mind went backward to a large room. Rose sat in the middle of the room, perched upon fluffy pillows as she drank a glass of water. She would ring a tiny bell, and someone would come running. Nick shook his thoughts free, finding himself exasperated.

"ROSE! WAR IS DEATH! DEATH IS WAR! THEY'RE TWO IN ONE! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?! YOU WON'T SURVIVE WAR! YOU WERE BORN WITH A GOLD SPOON IN YOUR MOUTH! YOU'VE NEVER GOTTEN OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE TO SHOOT A GUN! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO SHOOT A GUN! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!" Nick screamed.

Rose immediately recoiled. She winced at the tone in Nick's voice. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. She was shocked that he reacted in such a terrible manner. She let her shoulders sag forward in guilt. "That's the first time you've ever yelled at me," she whispered.

Nick winced, guilty that he expressed his worries of his dream and war out on his sister. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"But-"

"No, just don't worry about it. Let's get our bags packed, we need to leave in two hours," Nick answered, dismissing the problem quickly. He placed a quick peck on his sister's forehead as he climbed out of his bed. He let his thoughts drift to the back of his mind. Stupid dreams. They were just stupid dreams.

*~*~*

Jamelet felt tears prickle her eyes as the wind whipped about her. The howling chilled Jamelet's soul. She didn't want AJ to leave for War. The Canadian border was too far, and the amount of threats increased every day. She pulled her light blue sweater tightly around her shoulders, struggling to find warmth as AJ crossed the small airport. The military planes would be there shortly to claim her boyfriend. Jamelet looked down as she felt AJ's hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Jamelet, I'll be back," AJ insisted as he wrapped his arms around her trembling shoulders. He felt her coil her arms around his neck, pulling him close. The tiny trembles erupting from her body sent AJ into a panic. He didn't want to go to war. He had spent the last night creating dozens of plans on how to escape, but none seemed plausible. He sighed softly as he kissed Jamelet's flowing dark curls. He must go.

"I'm going to miss you a lot," she choked against the softness of his t-shirt. He looked so ordinary as he stood before her. She hardly recognized him that morning. AJ had combed his spikes down against his scalp, knowing soon that they would be shaved completely off. He wore a white t-shirt with jeans, knowing soon that a set of issued uniforms would be thrust into his arms. He held only a tiny bag of toiletries - the military would provide the rest. His face was fully shaved as shadows sunk into familiar crevices. Jamelet felt tears burn at the back of her eyes when she gazed upon him. His dark brown eyes were shadowed with the fear of death.

"Just take care of the business, okay?"

"Who's going to help me? I can't do it by myself," Jamelet fretted.

"We will," a voice called out.

Jamelet and AJ turned around. Their eyes grew wide with surprise as Kevin, Kimberly, Alison, and Brian came forward. Jamelet nodded briefly as Alison clung to Brian's arm. Her eyes misted with a sign of fear, almost intimidation. Kevin and Kimberly masked their faces with pleasant smiles as Kevin reached out to hug Jamelet. "We promised AJ last night that we would gladly help with the restaurant while he and the twins are away on duty."

"That's very kind of you, but-"

"We're going to help you," Kimberly insisted, waving her hands for Jamelet to stop bickering. Jamelet briefly nodded, looking down at the white tiles again. She listened to the soft voices above her, whispering their goodbyes. Jamelet knew this would be hard on the cousins to see one of the younger ones off to war. Jamelet gazed upon Alison, knowing she was extremely important to the group. Brian's light eyes were misted with tears as he hugged his cousin fiercely.

"You promise me you will be careful," Brian whispered hoarsely into her ear, his throat closing against his windpipe.

"I will."

"Don't do anything stupid, stick close to AJ…"

"I won't, Bre," Alison promised again.

"Write me everyday on your log?" Brian asked, referring to the small computer that was issued to everyone since the start of school. The log was used as an information desk, computer, transmitter, and phone all in one. Alison could send recorded messages of herself in her image to Brian through the days. She nodded vigorously as Brian kissed her temple. He looked to AJ.

"Can you watch out for her?"

"Of course," AJ promised, smiling at Alison.

"Good," Kevin stated with relief.

"BOARDING TROOPS TO THE CANADIAN FIELDS! LEAVING, NOW!" a voice boomed.

Jamelet winced as she saw the twins rushing from the doors. She watched AJ lean down to pick up his bag. He tapped his log, indicating that he would always be in contact. Jamelet nodded as they embraced one last time. "I'll be okay, mama. I promise you. I'll be home before you know it."

"I love you," Jamelet whispered.

"Then give me a kiss to board with so I'll always remember that."

*~*~*

Ana yawned softly while she stood beside Howie in the line up of Para-Surgeons. She and Howie had been on a flight for hours, just so they could reach the Canadian Training Grounds. They would receive a series of lessons in death-combat before being sent to the fields of the Canadian border. Ana could care less about the training. She was bored to death. She looked down the line carefully eyeing each person. She was surprised to find that she was the only female surgeon on the grounds.

'Oh, well, more man for me,' she thought with an amused smile.

"Ana! Stop!" Howie hissed from beside her. He leaned slightly into her ear. He heard her comment and wasn't amused. Jealousy always got the best of him when Ana commented on the male physique. He knew that he should be more relaxed, and happy that she was trying to settle down, but it wasn't the case. Each man she looked at drove Howie into a heated frenzy. Many nights he lay awake, staring at her. She was pretty, and Howie could safely admit that, but he would never admit the other feelings. He swallowed his emotions quickly, glaring at her. "You're talking is going to get us in major trouble," he told her with a growl.

Ana glared back at Howie for a moment, confused. He was yelling at her, and she hadn't even spoken! Ana narrowed her ocean eyes at him, trying to develop a sense of what he was speaking about. Sometimes he even baffled her. Ana leaned into him. "I wasn't talking you, moron!"

"I heard you say 'more man for me,' Ana," Howie accused.

"I didn't say a thing!" Ana screeched a little louder than anticipated.

"MA'AM, DO YOU MIND IF I INSTRUCT THESE MEN ON THE ART OF WAR?" the large man that was instructing the class bellowed at Ana. She jumped a little, her back straightening immediately. The man was taller than most, maybe just shy of seven feet. His eyes were a cold black, his nose sleek and pointed; his lips thin and pressed together. His muscles were larger than Ana had ever seen. His name was Sergeant Evans, but Ana wasn't amused with his power.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"I SAID, DO YOU MIND IF I TEACH THESE MEN?"

"No, by all means, teach away," she stated with a sickly-sweet smile. Howie winced, holding in a groan of anguish. Ana's attitude always caught the better of her at times. He wanted to grab her and push himself in front of her to protect her, but stood quietly.

"IT'S OBVIOUS," Evans screamed into Ana's face as he glanced over at her badge. His lips twitched into a deadly smile. "SURGEON LORD THAT YOU WILL BE THE FIRST DEAD PARA-SURGEON ON THIS SQUAD!"

"And why is that?" she asked.

"BECAUSE YOUR PRETTY SMILE AND LOOKS CAN'T SAVE YOU WHEN A DARKER-ELITION SOLIDER CATCHS YOUR FANCY. HE'LL TAKE ONE LOOK AT THATPRETTY FACE, SLAM HIS SWORD INTO YOUR GUTS, TEAR YOU TO PIECES, STUFF YOU IN A JAR, AND TAKES YOU HOME FOR HIS COLLECTION! NOW, UNLESS YOU'RE PREPARED TO FIGHT ME IN COMBAT, I SUGGEST YOU SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!"

All the men cringed as Evans blew his anger out upon Ana, but it only seemed to justify her anger. Howie gulped when he watched Ana's irises grow bright green and lick with flames of torrent revenge. Evans was holding a sword right at the base of her neck, pointing it sharply into her flesh. Ana's muscles tensed as her hands balled into tight fists. "Did you just say, SERGEANT Evans, that I can't defend myself if I was on the field?"

"That's exactly what I said, chick," he threatened, the sword still at her neck.

"Well, I have two words for you."

"And what would that be, Dear?"

"You're wrong!" Ana growled as she lashed her hand out and grabbed the base of the sword. The men gasped in horror as Ana moved with agility and speed. Her graceful arms balanced her as she swung the sword around quickly. Before Evans had time to react, Ana had already drawn the sword and pointed it directly at the Sergeant's neck.

"Lucky shot," Evans whispered.

"You wish."

"Then try combat," Evans growled, not pleased that Ana had done such a bold move. There was a fire in her that the man wanted to break. He wasn't pleased with her attitude or that she was so talented with a sword. He stepped backward, snatching a sword from his co-worker. The man quivered as he stepped back from Evans. "Come here," Evans ordered, pointing his sword to the circle on the floor.

"Ana, don't!" Howie hissed with fear.

"I got this," Ana answered, glancing at Howie. She winked at him with a pretty smile as she walked forward, the sword held at her side. Howie was surprised that Ana knew how to carry a sword in such a manner. The manner was the identical way that the Darker-Elitions held theirs in a peaceful stance. Howie narrowed his eyes at his friend, praying that she wouldn't be stupid.

"I'll give you another chance, and if you defeat me, you'll be free to go to Canada."

"Good, because I'd rather be saving people than showing your ass that women are better fighters than men," Ana growled, letting her sword point drop to the floor to match the Sergeants. Her eyes blazed with familiarity as she held the sword nimbly in her right hand. Sensations of remembrance trickled into her neurons as she crouched down, ready for the fight.

"You'll loose," he told her.

"Why don't you hit me and find out," Ana growled, tired of his speech. Evans nodded as he raised his sword, swinging it directly at her neck. Ana ducked downward, bringing her sword forward against Evans's chest. Evans grunted as he braced his sword forward, protecting himself from the blow. He pushed Ana backwards, causing her to fall to the ground. He grinned with triumph, rushing forward to pierce her chest.

Only, Ana anticipated this. She pulled her long legs up to connect with Evans's stomach. He grunted as he plowed directly into her feet. She pushed off him, causing herself to roll backward and jump up with little effort. She grabbed her sword and rushed forward, her anger pulsating through her veins. She screamed out a battle cry unfamiliar to her as their swords met. Sparks flew out into the wind as the swords repeatedly met. Ana's temples throbbed as she continued each move, perfectly executed with little effort. Her sword swung easily as she continued to battle the ogre. She anticipated each move and relaxed while the sword became lighter and her muscles stronger. Her face set into a look of murder as their swords collided, and their arms entangled.

"Give…up…little…girl," Evans growled with breathlessness.

"Not until you eat dirt!" she roared, letting her sword fall to the ground. Evans's eyes bugged out with surprise at her bold tactic. He raised his sword, preparing to cut off her arm. Ana grunted with appreciation as he raised his arms. Howie gasped as she delivered a swift kick to his groin with an inside box kick. Evans groaned while his sword fell.

Ana immediately crouched down to her knees. She thrust her right leg forward, kicking Evans's legs out from under him. He grunted with surprise as he fell backward. Ana grabbed her sword from the floor and pushed herself up quickly. She tackled Evans before he could recover. Every man's eyes bugged open as Ana stood on top of Evans's groin, digging her foot into the area. She held her sword and pressed it hard against his chest.

"Have…you…done…this…before?" Evans gasped, his chest heaving with each breath. He stared up into Ana's light eyes, inspecting her for signs of a gladiator background. She shook her head, the sword still in her hands. She glared down at him. Evans placed his hands up in defeat. "I apologize, Surgeon Lord."

"Good, know your place next time," Ana growled, stepping off the man's groin. She watched him curl into a ball, hugging himself. Ana pushed her honey blonde curls away from her face as she walked back toward Howie. Her mind suddenly flashed as she gazed at the sword. A bit of the past came hurling back toward her as she stared at the sword. Suddenly she had memorized the ancient ways of the deadly arts. Her mind filled with facts of guns, bombs, swords, and other utilities used to kill. Her eyes blurred as the martial arts and lessons of ancient tactics pressed against her temples.

Ana gazed downward at her hands, suddenly realizing how powerful and deadly she was. Her mind swirled with thoughts as she remembered. Her thoughts bounced quickly about her brain: 'The sword, I could have killed that man with the sword! How the heck did I know how to defend myself? I knew every move! I knew every single move! I've never done martial arts! I've never picked up a sword, nor have I ever killed a person… But I remember, I remember… '

And Howie understood every word radiating from her mind.