Kiki – Chapter One

Live and let die

The rain drizzled down through the cloudy sky. Its raindrops landed on Kiki’s cheek and mingled and merged with her tears. She stood alone on the hill above the graveyard. The people below looked up at her cautiously, each and every one wondering whether they should go and comfort the poor girl. Yet each person that stood there seemed to decide against it, and they slowly left one by one. Kiki preferred it that way. She knew how all the people who had bothered to attend the funeral, had only been there out of common courtesy. They all thought her, and her family, freaks ever since they arrived in the neighbourhood. The crucial first thoughts never really changed.

The death of her mother, aunt, grandmother and brother had come to more than a shock - as expected. She had seen deaths shadow before, yet this was worse. There was a certain depth to it, a depth of mystery and confusion. How could every member of her family who had remained alive, just fall down dead in four separate accidents. The irony and impossibility of the occurrence was overpowering. Yet it had happened. It was real. The minutes turned to hours as Kiki, remaining to stand on top of Alloy hill, overlooking the endless row of graves. The row nearest to her, though, was the one that she stared at, almost in dis-belief, the row that had grown by four.

Every day since the funeral had been a long one. Things kept going wrong; people avoided her – more than usual. But most of all there was a sense of ‘unknowing’. A thick mist had crept its way over the town. Shadows loomed on every street with their outstretched fingers reaching out, waiting. The rain hadn’t stopped since that day either. The endless drizzle of water reminded Kiki of the sadness that clung to her heart like a disease. And there were always reminders. Like today, for instance, Kiki had stumbled downstairs, as usual hoping that this day would be a little brighter. She made her way to the hallway that led to the kitchen. And lying on the floor, by the front door, was a letter.

The letter was of an important nature, as it was in a posh envelope, and was sealed with melted wax that had been printed with a government emblem. Kiki stopped dead at the sight of it. No one ever sent any letters, so post in itself was a rarity, there could only be one reason. She picked it up and glanced at the front. The address was written in neat, slanted writing, which had the return address of:

Mr Hornet Morose

1 High Courts Avenue

Alloy

England

Walking down the streets of Alloy wasn’t the same anymore. No one greeted you, in any shape or form. The atmosphere was cold and uncaring, and as Kiki made her way slowly to High Courts, she could almost feel the burning resentful glances, of the people she passed, settle on her neck. The High Courts were the political area of Alloy, and that was where all the officials and people with power lived. The High Courts were easily recognisable as they were made of the most expensive building materials money could buy. Each house had its own personal grounds, swimming pools, and pathways, double garages, and even some had their own high tech security system. It was defiantly the place to live. But it didn’t seem homely, it was almost as if something was missing, hidden behind those black metal bars that served as a security gate.

Kiki found the house she was looking for. It was a very large manor, and the biggest and oldest in the area. It sat like an old haggard man on the peak of Alloy Hill. Its stained walls looked like wrinkles as they lined the face of the house and its porch. The porch itself extended looking like a mouth opening into the pits of hell. It was known as the death house, as here, situated at the top of the graveyard, sat the morgue and solicitors office.

Its front gate gleamed as the rain hit it. The sky above almost blended in with the black metal that formed it, dark and menacing. It loomed over Kiki as she approached. She pressed the water-soaked button that activated the security check. A light, important voice sounded from the machine.

“Hello, welcome to 1 High court, please state your name and purpose for entry after the beep”. The voice was quite airy and hard to hear in the rain, but Kiki could just hear it and followed its instructions. A short, sharp and high-pitched bleep sounded.

“Err my name is Kiki, Kiki Dellamere, I was sent a letter telling me to be here for an important meeting?” there was a certain questioning in her voice. The letter had been very short, and hadn’t gone into many details.

“Please enter,” said the metallic woman’s voice again and the gates smoothly moved inwards. Kiki took one last glance at the house in which she was headed and took one step forward. Death house.

Nobody dared move. They knew they were living on borrowed time, as they should be dead by now. They had caught them. Some of them had been dragged off already. The screams still filled the small camp. The terrified screams of people, ‘they’ had dragged them through the door. No person who went in that door came out alive. The rest of the village sat in silence. There was no way to escape as all entrances in and out of the wooden shacks had been cursed with a dark magic. A futile attempt would only cause in a quicker death, it would loose you your borrowed time and that was all they had left in the world.

The door opened. They had come to call for another victim. One of them crept through the door, and headed straight towards the youngest of the people sitting in deaths waiting room. It was a young boy of about thirteen years of age, but age didn’t matter in these feeble island tribes. The boy stood, his legs no longer shaking. He knew what he had to do, and it didn’t really matter whether he did or not, his time was up anyway. There were two of them now. They slithered in, their breaths full of excitement and they came to escort their prey.

They grabbed the boy’s arms, one on either side, and they forced him to co-operate and steered him to the door. Reacting both with panic and a final attempt for freedom the boy swiftly turned his head and sank his teeth into one of their arms. As soon as he prevailed, he wished he hadn’t. His face started to burn as if something acidic was burning him. Protection charms. The boys young, complete skin burned away until half of his face was de-formed. He was shoved to the floor. And one of them spoke with an evil hiss.

“You boy dare defy us! You insolent little pig. Then you shall be punished. Punished with the guilt of letting them know their fate.” As it said this it tilted its head towards the villages huddled on the floor. “We will show your disgusting race as a punishment for your defiance!” It roared. At this it put its arm up, and out of the long, black sleeve it wore, a black hand protruded. It looked as if it was rotting. Sharp blades were embedded in the knuckles and were stained with a thick red substance, fresh from the last kill. The impersonator shoved the blade through the boy’s neck. There was a gasp of horror as the village watched in a terrified silence. Next the Impersonator skillfully took the blade on the end of its hand and pressed the blade against the side of the boys face. It began to cut across, like it had done for thousands of victims. All the villagers could do is stare in horror…staring up at what was once a living, young boy. What was now…A monster.