CROSSED — The Karma Crusades Part 2



Nothing this beautiful belonged here and in this storm. In the view of the boat, that structure she'd seen through the dark gray mist, Bette knew she wouldn't last.

The leaves swirled and the wind blew harder. The black clouds moved in the heavy winds to gather above her head and flashes lightning and booming thunder stole the sky. She was on an old wooden dock, with greying and rotting cracked panels and large gaping holes revealed the water beneath. At the end of the dock was a beautiful small white boat.

Nothing this beautiful belonged here and in this storm. In the view of the boat, that structure she'd seen through the dark gray mist, Bette knew she wouldn't last.

While stuck in this dream that small white boat with one sail torn slightly having been battered from the storm, would have to be her shelter through the persistent storm. Bette struggled to walk towards it as the wind blew harder, causing the rain to obscure the fancily written words that were already too difficult to read without the rain.

I turned around in my hidden vantage point to find the source of the hard footsteps approaching. Bette heard them too. She sped up her pace towards the little boat that would be her safe haven. Then she was running...running for all the life she had in her as the heavy clunking boots made chase. For every one step the boots took Bette had to take almost two. A clear disadvantage.

Her tears were hidden by the rain and her screams by the clapping and rolling thunder.

She stumbled on a broken plank, blinded by her tears.  I looked on as she caught her toe and fell hard, crashing face first to the wood. She left small blood droplets behind from the cut on her chin. She was now trapped and bleeding between the broken planks and the man on a mission. He was dressed in black from his top hat to his rubber goulashes.

"Are you Lana Fier?" the larger than life figure asked in a husky dry voice that reminded Bette of cigars and bourbon in a lounge with swanky waitresses. She couldn't see him clearly as the rain and her tears masked his face with the help of the shadow cast by the oversized brim of his hat, concealing his eyes.

"No, no. I am not Lana Fier! And what concern is it of yours?" she asked belligerently despite her vulnerable position.

You are Lana Fier!" he boomed. His eyes grew wide and angry as he disregarded her question. He reached down, his fingers clasping the collar of her thin yellow rain jacket, and he yanked her up towards him. Her feet dangled inches above the ground as she was forced to see him intimately. His eyes were haunting and the thick black brows pulled in making lines above the bridge of his small narrow nose. But those weren't the eyes that haunted her dreams. Similar but not the same.

"No. I'm not. And even if I were you still don't have the right to scare me like that and practically threaten my life. Who is Lana Fier?" Bette tried to remind herself that she must be dreaming. It had to just be a dream. He couldn't hurt her in a dream, not really. Scare her. Yes. But she'd wake up. Soon she hoped. Very soon.

"You should know you conniving vixen. You seduced and killed my only brother and you shall pay dearly for her deadly mistake," the words oozed out of his mouth like venom and Bette could taste the poison on her tongue.

Bette's body began to quiver as shivers went up and down her spine. I looked on curiously at how he would handle this. She'd denied being Lana Fier. Would he accept it?

Lana Fier. The name sounded familiar to Bette but it didn't connect with anything she could readily recall in her moment of terror. Out the corner of her eye, she saw me again. I was just a figure lurking in the distance, just beyond her clear view, watching as she was tortured by this crusader. I turned away, not wanting to see the pleading eyes that sought out my salvation.

"Yes, you shall pay Lana Fier. For all the life of you for his, you shall pay!" This shattering statement woke her up, drops of sweats dripping from her brow, her pillow damp, yet a chill still running through her bones. Bette began to weep.




Authors Note:

I would love to hear your comments and thoughts on this story so far.  If you like it or love it, please show it with a heart.  Thanks for reading and sharing.

Also: There is a voice that is above it all and speaks in first person.

The full novella will not be available here but is available on Amazon.

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