ForevaXena's FanFic . . .
I've
Seen The Light And It's Dark
by J Falconer
Disclaimer:
Xena, Gabrielle etc belong to MCA/Universal and Ren Pics, and anyone else who
has an interest in Xena Warrior Princess, not me.
Copyright©
2001: The characters in here belong to me. All rights reserved. No part or
whole of this work may be copied or used in any shape, form, or manner
whatsoever without the author's express written consent. If you want to use
them, all you have to do is ask … nicely.
Violence
disclaimer: Yes, there is violence, so if
you’re sensitive to that sort of thing, perhaps you’d like to move on.
Love/Sex
warning: This story depicts a love/sexual
relationship between two consenting adult women. If you are under 18 years of
age or if this type of story is illegal in the state or country in which you
live - move along, move along, nothing for you here ...
Prologue
“HOLYMOTHEROFCHRISTTHATBLOODYHURT!”
A small blonde woman lay sprawled at my feet, half lying on a crushed cardboard box, alternating between rubbing her ribs, clutching a wrist, inspecting ankles and trying to pull down her skirt, which had ridden quite a delectable distance up her creamy thighs.
I smothered a laugh, and tried to hold out a hand to help her up.
To no avail, I thought sourly for the millionth time in four hundred years, watching my hand pass clean through her body. I pretended to sigh, looking at it with fond exasperation.
Being a ghost was sort of cool, but had definite drawbacks.
Finally, between curses and mutters, the blonde decided she’d not been seriously hurt, and turned her attentions to the box that had so recently borne her weight. As she leaned over, I leaned with her and she shivered as she pulled up the loose flaps.
“Gotta do something about that damned heating.” Her voice, silky and sweet, was absent minded as she began to rifle through the contents, making sure each item I could barely see was undamaged. With a soft sigh, she found the object of her search, an onyx rearing horse, set on an age darkened piece of wood.
I whistled softly. “That must have cost you or your ancestors a pretty penny. Been with you a long time, then? Well, since you’re so fond of it I’ll try not to break it.”
I looked around at the destruction of cobwebs in the foyer of my house. I had haunted this house for hundreds of years, happy to see the dust, cobwebs, aged wood and silence, and every now and again my supernatural peace was interrupted by the living.
Like now.
All around me were boxes, brought in by my new, foul mouthed room mate, placed near items of furniture that had been brought in by those nice, large men yesterday. The ones I had been able to scare into incontinence with almost contemptuous ease after only a few delicately thought out hours.
I smiled gently, and blew moribund air across the back of her neck. It was a challenge – let the games begin!
“FUCK ME!” The blonde jumped to her feet, which promptly became tangled in the box, and she crashed back onto her shapely behind, arms windmilling wildly, failing to save her delicate balance.
I burst out laughing and followed her as she levered herself to her feet, muttering and swearing, and stormed off into my parlour.
Struck, I followed her and watched as she came to a screeching halt in front of the portrait that had hung over the long disused fireplace for hundreds of years.
She began gesticulating wildly, stabbing her finger in the air to drive the point home to the painting of me.
“Now see here – I’ve heard all about your supposed supernatural activities in this place, and they’re going to stop. Right now. Right now I say! I bought this house fair and square and if you don’t like me living here, then you can bloody well leave yourself, ‘cause I ain’t bloody well going any where else!”
Green eyes flashing, she gave my representation a thorough glare to drive home her point.
Unimpressed, smiling slightly, knowing she would never hear or see me, I crossed my arms and rested back comfortably on a heel and spoke as softly as I had done in life. “You now own my house, do you? Well, we’ll see about that. Sweetling, I give you perhaps a month before you follow all the others and throw yourself out of my house, cursing the day you ever laid eyes on it.” During this speech, she’d turned on her heel and left, to continue her business of unpacking.
I had done many things during my life, I reflected as I looked at the painting of me. I’d murdered, stolen, and had seen and done so many things a decent woman should never have even known of. This alone would have been enough to condemn me to an afterlife of torment, but it was my one, last, final act that had been my complete ruination, that led me here to an eternity in the place where it was done.
An act that I’d bitterly regretted for almost all of my time here.
I’d been here for so long, staring at the same rooms, looking out at the same ocean, watching the wind whip it into the frenzy I had so loved in life.
I did that now, standing near the telescope I’d bought centuries ago, when I was alive, giving it a gentle push so it spun once on its axis.
“So long, Sweetling.” My voice was a whisper. “I’ve been here so long. You will be as transient as the others, and when I get rid of you I can finally return to my suffering.”
I could hear her whistling in the distance as she went and arranged her possessions around mine, melding herself into my home.
Ah, what games to play with this youngster? I would watch, listen and learn, then use that which she feared most to cast her from this place.
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