[Child of God]: 416.Short Stories.Doggy Style

The abandoned grounds were blurred before her. She shouldn’t be here; it was too dangerous. But Saphera couldn’t help it. She had to get away and remind herself of why she was still fighting. There was a reason….right?

That was the question that danced through her mind as she wandered aimlessly through the still darkness. She didn’t even register the old red and white drink cup that rolled up and bumped her foot as she paused, lost in thought. Despite all of the game stands surrounding her, the wind was still able to bite at her back, howling through the metal poles of the structures, screaming as though it contained the cries of those souls who had been lost here.

Had Saphera’s strawberry-blond hair still been long, the wind likely would have caused it to whip about her face, partially hiding the view. But it wasn’t long anymore; it was cropped short in an elegant and sophisticated cut close her head.

Just the way he liked it.

For some reason, he claimed, long hair just didn’t look as good on her. Of course, her hair had been long when he said that, and Saphera had every intention of going the next day to get it cut the way he liked.
As the grey clouds parted, silver light rained down, illuminating her surroundings better. Not that she really needed it. Saphera knew this place like the back of her hand. How could she not? It was, after all, the place she had been when the attack happened. How could she ever forget those screams when the wind was there to remind her of them?

The tears that had blurred her vision previous now fell from her emerald eyes and down her taut cheeks as her vision wandered over to where the giant metal wheel stood. Shivering a bit, Saphera unknowingly took a step towards the ominous structure, as though pushed forward by an invisible hand. The wind bit at her back again, its screams echoing in her ears and harmonizing with the screams in her memories, drying her wet cheeks.

Shaking her head firmly and closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to will the memories away. This wasn’t doing any good; she had come back here hoping to find something, anything that would bring back some sense of purpose to what she was doing. Instead, she found nothing but the pain she had fought for so long to bury within her. Feeling nothing was the key to survival.

Opening her eyes again, she spotted a bench just under the wheel. Recognizing the bench, a lump formed in her throat as she walked over to it and sat down.

Last time she had sat here, she wasn’t alone….

Funny, since that day had started out so oddly. Stamitos had wanted to surprise her with something different, and had somehow found out from her friends that big, tough Saphera was a sucker for Farris Wheels. Sure, she loved spending most of her spare time at the Dojon, but every once in a while, she craved a seat atop the giant wheel, watching the world turn beneath her and feeling the wind blow through her hair.

Back when the wind held laughter, rather than screams. 

Whining snapped Saphera’s senses on to full alert and she was on her feet, dagger drawn, before she could even register the source of the sound. Eyes narrowed in precision, she scanned her surroundings until they landed on the small canine not too far off. to her right.

When did the thing get there? It un-nerved her that the creature had been able to sneak up on her so easily. Surely she hadn’t been that lost in thought, had she?

“Ya know missy, daydreamin’ like that these days might get ya in some trouble.”

Saphera nearly jumped out of her skin at the gruff, scratchy voice that seemed to whisper in her ear. Whirling around with her dagger aimed for the kill, she stopped short only enough to prevent the blade from slicing through the soft flesh of the man beside her. Holding it firmly against the stranger’s throat, Saphera mentally cursed herself for letting her guard down.

“Whoa! Easy der girl!” The man held up his hands submissively and took a step backwards, putting some distance between his throat and the blade. “I don’t want no trouble missy. I jist wanted to make sure you were ok!”

Letting her eyes rake over him for a moment or so, Saphera finally lowered her arm when she was satisfied he was human.
“What the fuck are you doing out here old man?!” She demanded angrily, shoving her blade roughly back into the leather holster on her hip. Old wouldn’t exactly be a fair judgment of the man, but neither would it be untrue; wrinkles etched deep into his round, chubby face, he looked as though he could be around middle-aged. Liver spots had yet to dot his lightly browned skin, from what she could tell, but his scraggily, unkempt red facial hair made it difficult to guestimate an age. The long, shaggy hair on his head looked to hold enough oil in those knots and tangles to keep a gas station in business for at least a few years. Its length could easily be made into two wigs if it were ever cut in the future. His dark clothes, soiled and shredded, barley covered the browned flab that protruded from the odd hole or tear. His shoes looked as though there were more likely to talk than provided protection for his feet with the way their toes were bent away from the sole, leaving his own bare toes exposed. “You’re supposed to be in the shelters with everyone else!”

The man’s ruby coloured eyes twinkled in the silver moonlight as a small smile graced his lips. “So should you, shouldn’t ya little missy?”

Saphera’s own lips drew together in a tight frown as she crossed her arms stiffly in front of her forest green shirt. The tanned colour of her skin offset with the colour of her shirt created a rich, earthy tone about her, as though trying to symbolize what, or rather, who she was; a child of creation, one of nature’s warriors. “That doesn’t answer my question!”

Chuckling, the old man sat down on the bench as the canine, supposedly his companion, made its way past Saphera and flopped down by its master’s side. Looking up to the man with weary eyes, it seemed to be reassured of something as the man gave a small incline of his red head and the beast lowered its own onto its paws.

“Those shelters aren’t for the likes of people like us,” he finally replied. “It seems a homeless man and his dog aren’t important enough to society to be permitted a space in the shelters.”

Furrowing her brows, Saphera put her hands on her hips impatiently. “No one is turned away from a shelter! You could always be put to work as a postal worker for SPES until your skills are determined.” Despite the snap, his words unsettled her; they seemed to hold a much deeper meaning then he was letting on.
He didn’t seem to hear her as he stared up at the night sky; the clouds had broken enough so that, not only could the moonlight shine down, but also a few stars could be seen. God, how long had it been since she’d seen stars?

It had been 5 years, Saphera suddenly realized. The last time she had seen stars was on that night, with Stamitos, as they hung in the seat of the giant wheel, staring out over into the world together. They had been sitting there, oblivious to the noise from the rest of the amusement park below, just staring at the stars together. It was cheesy and cliché in all honestly; sitting there in a Farris Wheel, stargazing with your fiancé at the local amusement park, being all mushy and shit. Actually, the park was more of a permanent fair, but “Metro Amusements” was thought to sound better than “Metro Fair.” But, what did it matter in the end anyway?

But Saphera hadn’t cared about the cheesiness of it all. Deep down, she had loved every minute of it. At the school, Stamitos and she had almost entirely different classes, and after school she spent almost all of her time training and teaching at the Dojon. Sure, some times he’d come and visit her there, but martial arts really wasn’t his thing. 

“What could possible bring a front-liner out alone at night?”

Saphera’s memories were again interrupted by the man. Frowning harder, she gave her head another shake. She really needed to stop drifting off like that!
Looking over at him warily, she gave a small shrug. “Everyone needs to get out once in a while. You can’t stay cooped up underground for so long or else you start to loose it.”

The man chuckled and looked over to meet her gaze. “I suppose so. Man wasn’t created to live below the ground. But, you front-liners are man’s hope ya know. If you guys all go and get yourselves killed just because you want a midnight stroll, the rest of us will be screwed.”

Scowling at his words, Saphera glared off into the distance. He was right, and she knew it all too well. The front-liners were the only ones who could fight, and their numbers were few as it was. If it were only a matter of skill, they could easily train more to replace the ones lost.

But it wasn’t that easy.

They were small in number because they had something that couldn’t be taught to others. Some called it a gift, others, a curse. No matter the name given, this ability seemed to be the only thing that was successful in the fight against the Demons.

“Say, does that still work?”

Flinching a bit, Saphera resisted the urge to pull her hand from the man’s gentle grasp as he stared at the silver watch on her left wrist.

“No, it doesn’t.” She replied stiffly, hoping he’d let the hand go before she had to pull it away.

“Hmmm, stuck at 11:59 eh? This must be your souvenir from the first attack then right?”

Giving the man a sharp look, she quickly pulled her hand from him.

“It’s ok. We all have something that reminds us of that night. I’d even wager a bet that this was where you were that night--”

Saphera interrupted him by standing abruptly and glaring down at him. “Get to a fucking shelter before the Demons discover and turn you! I don’t feel like shedding more blood tonight!” Turning on her heels, she made to leave. The canine, startled, raised its sleepy head and looked back up to the man again, as though protesting the thought of leaving.

He didn’t notice the look from his companion though, as his hand shot to her arm, stopping her departure. “If you leave before finding what you were looking for, I might be well hunted down anyways.”

Going rigid at the man’s touch, she was bout to pull her arm away when his words stopped her. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Whirling around to face him, she tried jerk her arm free, but he didn’t relax his grip.

The man stood, her arm instill in his clutches. For some reason, he seemed taller now, and his face appeared to have less wrinkles. All mirth was gone from his expression, replaced with a seriousness that startled, and almost frightened, her.
“It means that unless you can find something to hope in, something to give you a reason to keep fighting, you and the cities assigned to your protection are as good as dead.” His voice was soft but firm and it seemed to command her attention. All slang was gone from his words, replaced instead with the eloquence born of a specific need. “It’s evident that your spirit is gone. There’s no life left in your eyes. What good is it to protect man if you cease being human yourself?”

“Cease being human?” All anger was gone from her now, and instead was replaced with a scarred confusion.

Releasing her arm, he brought his hand up and touched her cheek lightly. “Saphera, you’ve locked yourself away, leaving only a mindless machine in your stead. You fight, but you have no concept of what you’re fighting for anymore. Your mind knows it, but your heart doesn’t. And it is the heart that makes you human. You need to free the heart you locked away that night five years ago. You have no purpose because at first you fought only for the revenge of your loved ones. But that purpose is quickly destroyed as the revenge you seek never comes.”

As he paused, his ruby eyes caught her now large emerald ones. Saphera was trembling, her mind racing and her voice coming out in a whisper. “Who the fuck are you?”

The man’s eyes softened as his lips curled into a small, comforting smile. “You know my dear, that mouth really doesn’t suit you.” Lowering his hand, he took her left one in both of his. “Saphera, you need to let your heart out again. The purpose, the hope, you are seeking is waiting for you there, not in the skeleton of your memories.”

Snorting a bit, Saphera couldn’t help but shake her head. “God, do you realize how cliché you sound right now buddy?”

At this, the man’s smile widened. “There are a reason things are cliché my dear; it’s because they are the truth, repeated all too often but never truly headed. Acceptance, Saphera, is your answer. You have to accept that you need your heart to survive. Without your heart, nothing distinguishes you from those you fight against.” Letting go of her hand, he turned to leave.

So engrossed in his words, the spell seemed to be broken when he released her. Looking down, she realized he had placed something in her palm; a blue yo-yo.

An audible gasp escaping her lips, Saphera’s head shot up, only to find the man and his canine companion, gone. Her eyes darted widely around her, trying to see where he went, only to be greeted with the dark, familiar sights from before. No movement could be seen, save for that of the stall flaps blowing in the wind.

Swallowing hard, she brought the yo-yo up closer to her face. Tears again welled in her eyes as another memory flashed before her, this one even clearer and more vivid then before:

“Hey! Look at this!”

Saphera stopped and looked over. There was Stamitos, bent over with his ass sticking in the air. Smirking, she gave him a good, solid slap on the offered target, earning a yelp and a jump from the young man. “Mmmm, I’ve seen it before.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Standing back up, he held a blue yo-yo in one hand, pushing his shoulder-length, platinum blond hair back out of his eyes with the other. “I meant, look at this; someone threw away a perfectly good yo-yo!”

“Really?” She stepped close to him to get a better look. “Can I see it?”

“Sure.” Handing her the toy, he grinned and pulled her in for a quick kiss as he passed it to her hands.

Grinning, Saphera happily returned the little peck and took the toy. Slipping the gold and white loop over her finger, she contented herself with it’s up and down motion a few times before handing it back to it’s finder. Golden inscription on one side caught her attention as she handed it over. “J.C.? Do you think that’s the manufacturer or owner?”

Shrugging, Stamitos took his turn at the toy. Being a bit more skilled, he was able to do a couple of tricks. Showing off a bit, he gave Saphera an arrogant smile, causing her to role her eyes and mutter while she waited him to finish.

“Show off.”

Returning her grin, Stamitos finished off with the first trick he learned as a child. “This one’s my favourite; it’s called ‘Walk the Dog.’”

Lowering it almost to the ground with a flick of his wrist, his finger teased the string to make the blue, round toy pull out from before him, as though being pulled by some invisible pet, then back again.

Saphera looked at him with an amused smirk and raised eyebrow. “And that would be your favourite because…?”

A devilish smile settling on his lips, Stamitos shot his arms out, catching Saphera off guard, and pulled her into his chest. Lowering his head to her ear, he whispered in a low voice, “Because I like doin’ it doggy style.”

Not about to give her a chance to respond, his mouth moved from her ear to her lips, burying them in a deep, smoldering kiss, ignoring the surprised “meep” from his fiancé, and the stares from strangers he was getting.

A sob broke the stillness as the memory ended. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as she clutched the toy in her palm to her chest. The wall she had built around herself was beginning to crumble, making too much for her legs to hold.

On a hill in the distance, the red-haired man sat with his companion, watching the figure sink to her knees and hearing her sobs echoing through the dead night. The enemy closed in from all sides, but he wouldn’t allow them to touch her.

Closing his eyes, the wind seemed to pick up, as though on command. The grey clouds were blown to shape the way the moon’s light filtered to the earth, shining now only on the park below, creating the image of a circle of light. A circle which the Demons could not penetrate.

Opening his eyes again, he looked to the companion on his right, gently stroking its brown, dirtied fut. For now, he would watch over her, protecting her from her enemies until she was again strong enough to face them.