Chapter 3- Camden Brush
Once the hounds of Earth had fixed Soleil, even she, the biggest shop-a-holic ever, resolved to head to the inn. We all needed a rest, a deep slumber and a warm meal, for tomorrow we had school. None of us had been to school in a years because of Delilah’s death in her case, and the rest of us were nineteen, so waking in the morning was going to be unbelievably hard.
The Inn, washed by an aging crumbling stony sheen, was directly opposite D.W.D. It faced into a long avenue which the lead directly to the imposing regal black doors, which had glass panes of each elemental colour covering them. The street was fragrant with the damp rain that pattered against the uneven surface. The sky above us as black as the door to D.W.D and it was only broken by a few minimal stars that slashed through the clouds. Streets were silent now. Not a soul walked them; we were alone.
“Oh my god!” Soleil burst into my thoughts, “They do tapas here!” Typically Soleil was thrilled that even in this weird place of Kenanpation (which I honestly didn’t quite know how to describe) her Spanish roots had been acknowledged. You see her father was Spanish and she was greatly learned in this culture, he’d truly immersed her.
“Come on, we’ll go for something to eat and then go to the inn, and then we know we’re eating something decent. For all we know fish eyes could be a delicacy here,” and though I hate to admit it Soleil had a point.
We followed the road down for about 20 yards and the spicy smell aired us. Warm, bold oranges and yellows danced through the glass windows of the empty restaurant. The radiant lights gleam through the glass and the whole space was a glow. I could taste the chorizo and olives upon my lips, and although I despised both they had an earthly flavor, a familiarity.
Soleil danced into the shop as the mariachi band played their merry tune. Life pumped through her as though the earlier catastrophe had not happened. It was divine to see her home. Intern everyone of us followed her into the minuscule restaurant; last was Delilah because the bright lights hurt her eyes.
Daggers of icy shards flew across the room, razor sharp and completely lethal. As Delilah’s educated foot touched the green tiled floor of the restaurant each bulb had smashed and all light stopped. Apart from a harrowing ghostly shimmer that made a halo around angelical Delilah. A star like quiver.
The Spanish tongue of manager started rasping venomously Delilah, squaring her up for an argument.
“¿qué has hecho! que estúpida,” His voice platonic.
“No es su culpa, ella representa la noche y ella no puede controlar su poder. No le grite a ella! sus poderes destruir toda la luz. No desea que su comida o el servicio ya no. adiós, señor!” flippantly bellowed Soleil, finally her knowledge of the Spanish language was useful.
“¡No! ¿Está usted a las niñas inmortal? No, no te vayas! No maldigan,” Flames from his lips lit up his face.
“Sí, somos las chicas inmortales,” Soleil answered, and sí I understood.
“What the hell did you just say?” Enya quizzed Soleil a little confused.
“I basically told him that we were the immortals, that Delilah was the girl of night and couldn’t control her gifts, especially in light,” Soleil grinned joyously.
We exited the now pitch black and still empty restaurant, the scent of spice died as we headed back up to the inn, still starved. The thick mahogany door had a small diamond window cut into it, which created a small portal into the warm, cozy atmosphere of the land inside. The fire smoldered and I could hear the sizzle in my mind. It was contradictory to the tears that were streaming from the violet clouds above our heads.
The warmth swirled over us we entered the door and the six of us pilled in. The creatures and the gifted bantered around hard oak circular tables each of their hands filled with a jeweled chalice. Bedraggled hair, dripping lashes, still clothed in our pajamas, and yet our shoes still gleamed as though the slaughtering rain had never touched them.
“Hello,” Nixie stated gasping to the receptionist clerk, “I need three twin rooms for this evening.”
“Okay Miss may I take a name,” the charming man answered fiddling with his berry cravat.
“Ermm Nixie Blue,” Her sustained voice answered. His eyes flashed back to Nixie. His hands dropped to his eyes with one sharp slice.
“Miss Blue, as in…”
“The girl of water,” She interrupted with a smirk.
“Wow! You’re famous! You all are,” He ranted and to be perfectly honest I perceived him to be gay.
“Thank you, the room keys?” Nixie begged for our permission to enter our rooms.
“Oh miss, you all get a queen suite,” He lordly received us, and with a snap of his fingers three keys flew from the red glass cabinet and into Nixie’s, Enya’s and my hands. Then Nixie befriended him with presidential nod.
We waltzed into the golden blush of the fire, when a young girl, hands gloved in ruby red, stopped us.
“Ladies, what do you wish for your evening meal?” She begged the question.
“Oh great! I’m starved!” I shouted. I loved food; though I highly doubt she could get the local Chinese take away to deliver to here.
“Well you may have anything you wish for,” the lady fairly grinned.
“Great!” I cheered, “Okay so I’ll have noodles, chips, curry sauce… erm, sweet chili chicken nuggets, a salt and pepper mixed veg. Erm some Doritos, a crème egg and a Mcflurry,” I proudly placed my substantial order to the ground.
I lifted my head from its focused spot upon the divine rangoli carpet, to see, in dusty smoking flames, my order floating in the sky above me.
“Would you like a drink with that?” She casually asked.
“Erm, a diet coke,” I answered with less conviction this time. A smile drew across the girls face. Her hands began to flamboyantly blaze and only using the tip of her finger her cursive writing appeared. She developed her hand and with a gentle tap, sent the order to the kitchen.
“I’ll have the same!” Delilah shone, a little excited, “Just with a normal coke instead.”
The rest ordered their acknowledgeable smaller meals and we were lead to our table, by a man with vivacious red feathery wings strung upon his back. He had a long hooked nose and piercing black eyes, yet the subtlety of his smile made me cherish him. The table was laid with a crimson velvet cloth, untainted golden plates and all cutleries you could imagine to match.
“My god,” Avani began to comment, “There are so many people here, each in red.”
“I know,” answered Enya, “But I kind of like the fact it’s all red.” I gazed upon the room once more and the twittering of my friend’s voices melted into the crackle of the blazing fire beside us. There were many men and women with wing of red, orange and yellow. Lions, which sat urbanely at tables, and chattered like human’s (which I presumed they had once been). There people with no legs, just a serpents tail; people with beaks of blistering colours. Men with arrows and women who breathed fire. Yet despite the curious array of species, they all appeared relaxed; their resilient bodies didn’t pose a threat.
The waiter reappeared at the table and all noise blazed back to me, destroying my lethargic daze.
“The girl of water?” He pleaded politely for an answer.
“Yes?” Nixie granted him her attention. He clicked with authority and a bewitched blue chalice floated from the tray and landed at nixie’s place setting. The coke it held swirling in the movement and tantalizing my desert tongue.
“The girl of air?” he asked for my attention. Dorkily, I raised my hand, like a reception child at primary school. A pink crystal goblet mimicked the moments of the blue. He rounded the table, each of us gifted with a glass of our colour; each as enchanted as the last. I had to agree with Soleil: this had to be a dream.
Enya’s ravishing ruby glace firmly planted it’s feet upon the table and her cherry cola forgot the steps to its dance and settled.
“So you’re the girl of fire,” the waiter sang in awe.
“Yep! Enya Wood,” She cordially introduced herself.
“Wow! How lucky are we.”
“Pardon?” the expression of her voice missed his blessed point.
“This inn is the crackling wood. It’s the Inn that belongs to immortal of fire. It was a gift to her from the sprits for when she arrived, and I can’t believe you came!”
“What? Spirits gave me a pub?”
“The spirits left everyone a place to come when they are lost. This is yours, this is why you arrived.” Enya was speechless. Her argumentative streak (that commonly would have said that the whole thing was a pile of crap) died; she modestly nodded.
“Well a superb gift it is,” Her voice sweet.
“I’ll go get your meals,” he bowed and bayed s a short farewell.
“This all just gets weirder and weirder,” Soleil deduced.
“That sure is right,” still stunned, Enya agreed, “Though I do appreciate the sense of home this place gives. Its here if we needed it.”
“Delilah. Do we get rooms at D.W.D?” Avani inquisitively questioned.
“I think we share, in two’s. I think that’s what I was told,” Delilah fumbled through her mind.
“How do you know everything?” Nixie was slightly entranced in Delilah for that short minuet.
“A woman, clothed in only black, appeared to me as I passed through to this place. It’s really hazy though. I can’t remember her name, I can’t remember much,” Delilah shared her memories of her common entrance into this world.
“Well that’s obviously a lie,” Nixie sharply turned bitter, “You’ve known everything that’s got us here. Don’t be modest.”
“I wasn’t!” Delilah’s voice roared back savage, the weird harmonic vocal came again.
The tension didn’t ripple away as the waiter re-appeared with the plates of food. Instead it devoured us into a distressing silence. He didn’t need to ask this time; instead he instinctively placed the correct meal upon the place of correct customer. My mountain arrived, and honestly if they didn’t know any better they would presume I was pregnant. I assure you I’m not, (But I doubt it will be long before Nixie is).
My taste buds jived as the delicious food and tastes immersed my mouth. Everything I loved (apart from spaghetti bolognaise, which I had forgot to order) was in front of me, free of charge. I didn’t care how bizarre this place was. I didn’t flinch at the fact that the tension between Nixie and Delilah still thundered. It didn’t bother me that I was so far from home. I loved this place. I loved being treat like a queen. It was paradise
Once full and quenched Delilah and I scampered back to our room in a hope of diffusing the tension, while the other’s uncorked a big bottle of bullion champagne. Unlocking the weighty door, we both did not dare enter the magnificent room. Two identical four-poster beds majestically stood in each wing of the room. Sweet lemon chiffon slunk across the posts and doughy lightly baked duvet’s provided a base for the elaborately decorated beds. A chaise lounge of dark bloody red posed in on corner next to an antique dressing table, varnished perfectly. Standing strong like an ox was a wardrobe, big enough for even Soleil’s vast array of clothes, against one raw stonewall. Thick velvet curtains forbid the light from catching Delilah, but a huge chandelier of amber glass had brunt into light. As had the fire, its heated tongues licking the brass guard.
“I’m going straight to sleep,” I yawned, “That bed looks so cozy.”
“I’m not to tired,” resolved Delilah, “ I think I’m just going to read one of my books for a while. Get a head start.”
“What ever you wish Dib dab (my geeky nickname for Delilah) just… some how turn the light out before you go to sleep,” I badgered her as I hopped into my fluffy bed.
“I’ll try,” She replied.
Coarse. The minty light that stung my eyes came from nowhere, and it was coarse to my eyes lids. A dark dreamless sleep disturbed. I unsealed my eyelids. Blur.
Everything lacked certainty.
The mist of the night, and silver light that poured from the moon. Wait! It hit me. How could the room be so drenched in moonlight? I’d left the curtain’s shut. I adjusted my eyes. They were still shut.
The crept from the safety of my sheets, my fortress, and tiptoed along the moon-drenched floor. The trail of oozing metal light was easy to follow and it blindly lead me to an alcove that I had never known existed.
The haunting light couldn’t be safe, or in fact trusted, so caped my self in the greyish shadows.
Just my eyes.
Nothing but my eyes, dared to pear on.
Their chaste blue tainted.
Delilah, bathed in a black mist, iris of white, pupil of grey, almost dead radiated the moonlit halo. Though my friend appeared eerie and distorted it was not her that pierced my spine in fear.
Hunched, gargoyle-like, decrepit and repulsive, they fed on her essence, her in-pure essence. Translucent skin, translucent dress, translucent hearts. They were savage animals and she commanded with this strength that in life she had never had.
“Here we meet, my souls,” Delilah’s serpent voice slithered stealthily from her violet lips.
“Misssss,” Came a shrill hiss from one lingering figure, “What do you requesssst?”
“Physicality. For all. You must live, live to help me,” Delilah’s starring eyes vacant and drained of colour.
The cheers, the wispy cheers, puffed like smoke from the uncertain crowd.
From the black fog of her black dress Delilah mustered a violet book, which hung in the air. I sniffed for breath; a putrid, poignant smell filled my nostrils. Soil, rot, the same smell as earlier that day from the grey smog. Flicking the pages as fast as strong gushing breeze the mangled creatures fell in closer.
Her lips of violet split.
“Give me your arm Renee,” Delilah respired again. The almost clear figure that must have been Renee, and was only visible by the silver smoke she was set upon lifted her arm.
Softly, silently, Delilah clutched her hand dependently.
From nowhere, venomously Delilah snapped her wrist. A crunch. Again her elbow. Those spine-jerking crunches, and her never before seen malicious streak, crunched every bone in Renee’s arm.
“Nightly things, Nightly sight,
You know what is good, what’s right.
Broken. Wounded. Demonic Renee.
Fixed, mended to life I say.
Obey me! I shriek.
Before the sun shall make peak.
Powers, night of devious powers.
Bring her to broken limb to life!” Delilah’s harrowing voice roared to the night’s skies.
Her peppery halo engulfed Renee. The light grew, mercury white. My eyes sore. My nose still filled with the festering smell. A high-pitched note swelled as my bones clenched. Then from the white light stepped a lady of snow skin. Iris of white, pupils of grey, hair of ice and lips of violet. Renee was re-born from initial spiritual self to a physical being. Delilah, an enchantress rose again from the light in her black cloud.
One foot.
Just a toe back.
The panel squeaked… and they turned, fury filled their eyes, their painfully colourless eyes. Their backs hostile, and they folded into animals ready to kill all who disturbed them, all who went against them. They pounced and as I felt my feet leading me away.
“Stop!” fizzed that harmonic voice of Delilah’s, “Air is near. She’s for us. She does not know. Be still!”
My feet had lead me to the sanctuary, the safety of the now icy cold bed sheets and the dark proceedings rained on through the sleepless night.
) Sorry, easily distracted today, I really enjoyed reading this. I like how your progressing the story, the elements of not everything is as it seems and the mystery (what I think is a mystery) involving Delilah. I think that polinkacreations has covered all of the nitpicks, so I'll save you the pain of reading them all over again. 
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