Post by Jessica | Rémiel on Mar 4, 2018 22:57:02 GMT -5
The Avenging Angel
Xaria Veronica Karloff
The Angel’s Vengeance. . .
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“La vérité vous rendra libres.”
In the beginning, there is darkness.
Only a feminine voice with a French accent resonates.
“The truth will set you free… But that is not always the case, is it? Sometimes… the truth will ensnare you in the dark and strangle you until the last breath is taken.”
flash!
Pure white.
And then… there’s the sound of rain. The visual reveals a graveyard with two gravestones next to each other. The site is very well taken care of, though it’s difficult to tell in this gloomy Paris rain. The sun has already set on the City of Love. A hooded yet petite figure quietly approaches the graves and kneels down before them. A large basket of colorful flowers is set down and the figure takes a moment to respectfully decorate the graves with the flowers. A shock of wavy brown hair is revealed from underneath the hood. Their right hand -- a feminine hand -- reaches out and gently runs their fingers over the names on the gravestones.
Manuel Linette.
Olivia Linette.
She moves her hands, places them together, and bows her head to pray.
“Monsieur Johnathan…”
Even though her voice is heard, Xaria Karloff is not visibly speaking, at least not in front of the camera. She raises her left hand and gently settles it over her father’s name.
“...we’re not entirely different, you and I. I didn’t have a very good relationship with my father. He was a powerful and successful businessman here in Paris, France. He was the owner of Le Paradis, the Paradise. His father passed it down to him when he was young. It was the Linette Family Legacy and he was running the restaurant like a business. One day, he would pass it down to his next of kin. Funny… considering it was either me or my brother, Quentin Fontaine… and yet we didn’t know of the other’s existence.”
She lowers her left hand, then she raises her right hand and gently lays it on her mother’s name.
“Quentin told me our father never married his mother. Instead, he married my mother… and I was born soon after. He must have been looking for a successor. I don’t know why he thought his son was not qualified, but when he found out I was born with Schizophrenia, he was ashamed. He felt such disdain towards me. I was too little to understand. All I wanted to do was talk to my friends… even if no one else could see them. I heard him yelling at him, screaming and cursing. On my fourth birthday, he struck me once, twice… My mother tried to stop him, but he struck her as well. Seeing her fall to the ground, he realized what he had done, and yet… he didn’t care. He believed his genes were “perfect” and blamed her for my flaws and imperfections. He abandoned us. He filed for divorce and left us with nothing but a broken home. We were poor, but we had each other. For six years, my mother would raise me to the best of her ability until she passed away when I was ten years old. I didn’t have a childhood. No one wanted to adopt me, so I ran away. I had to fend for myself on the streets of Paris for many years, stealing food and drink, creating makeshift shelters, and hiding away from the rest of the world… until a man rescued me.”
flash!
The imagery changes. Within the walls of Xaria’s Paris estate, she stares out the large window of the master bedroom on the second floor. The rain continues to fall over the city, the Eiffel Tower standing tall in the distance, her own restaurant within the heart of the city, and she sighs softly.
“Yet despite the abuse and abandonment… after all the years… one day, a woman contacted me. She told me that my father was diagnosed with lung cancer and he needed to see me. I didn’t know what to think, but I flew out to Paris to see him. He was lying on his deathbed, cold, alone… and remorseful. I reached out to him. I held him in my arms as he confided in me. He told me he heard my name through business channels and learned that I was a professional wrestler, a very successful one. I surpassed his expectations of me. I… surpassed him. He apologized to me over and over, but I already forgave him after the first time.
Why? Because, Johnathan, I never hated my father. I lived by my mother’s wish to never hate anyone… He gave me his inheritance as well as ownership of his restaurant that I renamed Le Beau Paradis. The Beautiful Paradise. He wished he could start over and make things right, so he could love us… and then he passed away in my arms.
Can you really compare yourself to your father… when you can actually surpass him like I surpassed mine? Regardless of everything he’s done to you, can you forgive your father as I have forgiven mine? Or will you continue to live the rest of your life with such agony? You believe you cannot be a father because of what your own has done? Such poor excuses. The lack of respect, the cowardice that you show… It disgusts me. You can blame your father all you want, but you have to accept responsibility for your OWN actions.
What you have done to Monsieur Allen? Monsieurs Joshua and Ronald? To my own husband, Martin? Your father did not make you train them and punish them the way you have.
YOU MADE THAT DECISION.
You chose to follow your father’s way of life. You chose to be just like him. He didn’t make you do anything. You made your own decisions and you suffered your own consequences. You decided to walk away from your sons when I told you the truth!”
A sharp exhale. A quivering inhale.
“I didn’t want you to replace Martin. That was never my intention. I simply wanted to give you the opportunity to be what you say your father never was to you. A real father. There are some children in the world who are lucky enough to have more than one father or one mother in their lives. My sons can have that blessing. Such a fortunate turn of events will never hurt them. But instead, you choose to run… That is all you do. You run away from the truth. You blame someone else for your actions. You resist the power of change for the better.
You don’t believe you deserve to be saved… do you?
You don’t believe you are good and just… oui, monsieur?
You are the worst. Bad to the core. Wicked and dark.
That is the truth… isn’t it, Johnathan? You are afraid. You always have been and you always will be. Now you have even more reason to be. Your fear… I can already feel it. For your fear, your cowardice, your irresponsibility and immaturity, and your wickedness…
There will be justice.
Ma vengeance sera votre liberté.”
flash!
And there is darkness yet again.
