Caeda: The Assassin's Call

Caeda: The Assassin's Call
by demented20
What does it take to make a cold blooded assassin? Caeda knows all too well. (Part 1 of 4)

"An assassin is not born, but is created by loss so profound and complete that it crushes the human spirit and leaves only a void where hope once lived...", Parvaiz of Damascus, Father of The Black Gate, ca. 412 bc.

Sunrise over the ancient city of Damascus brought the criers to the mosques to call the faithful to morning prayers. Amaris Johanssen had always dreamed of going to the Middle East and studying the wonderful cultures that were so much older than anything she had ever experienced, but she and her friend Chet Perkins weren't in Syria to see the culture. They were there for a dark purpose.

Chet lead Amaris through the newer wider more brightly lit streets to the older sections of the city. These were the sections of the city that people from generations past would have recognized. There was so much history in a place like this that it was overwhelming, but Amaris knew that she was about to become a living part of history. Chet kept the pace quick never slowing for more than a few moments. Amaris kept up with him partly out of habit, but mostly out of a deep uneasiness. If Chet Perkins was hurrying then there must really be a reason because he was the most dangerous man Amaris knew. He had trained her and knew more about killing another human being than anyone deserved to know. He wasn't big, or even scary looking, he was simply dangerous, very dangerous.

The two westerners got a few glances from locals who had risen at this early hour. Chet gave each person a quick once over, but kept moving. Amaris did the same, trying to assess the threat from each person with one quick look from her pale blue eyes. She was far from tired as she kept moving, but her heart rate was up a little. Chet was almost 30 years her senior, but he seemed completely unaffected by this quick pace. He suddenly darted into an alley that Amaris had neither seen nor felt, but she followed him as if she were his own shadow. He had to turn his body profile for several steps before he could square up. Amaris had to do the same although she had a little more space. Once the alley widened, Chet resumed his pace. They had zigged and zagged through this neighborhood in no perceptible pattern, but Amaris dared not ask where they were going. She had agreed to do this, and she was going through with it no matter what. She was a couple steps behind Chet when he suddenly halted. She stopped and looked where he was looking. There it was. It wasn't big. It wasn't flashy, but for those who knew what it was, it was like looking into a great abyss. Amaris and Chet stood before the Black Gate. She had heard Chet talk about it, but she had never thought that it would be so small, so simple, and so foreboding. Any regular person could have passed that building and passed that gate and not thought about it, but for Amaris, she could think of nothing else. After she had told Chet that she wanted to be what he was, he had explained to her how things worked. He had explained that there were three guilds in the world that divided up the work. There was the Sword and Shield based in Zurich. It was more like a clearing house for work, easy to make money, but hard to make a reputation to get the jobs to make that money. Serious assassins only joined the Sword and Shield after they had made a name for themselves. Then there was the Tin Knives based in Shanghai. It was a very old and very serious guild of cut throats and professionals, but it wasn't the place for a westerner like her. For people of European, African, or Middle Eastern descent there was only one legendary guild to join, and that was the Black Gate. Joining The Gate didn't take money or family name; it took blood. "Blood to enter the Gate, and blood to leave the Gate", were the words Chet had drilled into her while she had been sitting in his home in West Virginia. Joining was dangerous, and there was a chance that she could die. Amaris felt her nerve draining away in the chill desert air. She stood before the Gate like a child wanting nothing more than to run and hide. At that moment, Chet took her by the elbow.

Amaris nodded and turned straight ahead. A small door opened near the top of the Gate and a set of eyes peered down at them.

"I am Ryder who is of the Gate with one who wishes to enter", Chet replied in English.

The hinges squeaked as the Black Gate swung. It opened to a fragrant and colorful courtyard of flowers and to a bubbling spring that had watered that garden for over two millennia. Some of the flowers and bushes in the garden were there when the first Arabs had come to the region from the south, or before that when a certain Benjamite had been knocked from his horse on the road from Palestine. Amaris knew none of this as they lead her through the courtyard and into a building. The halls were narrow and the doorways were covered with curtains instead of doors. Everything was barely lit. That was to help disorient any person not familiar with the layout, but that wouldn't work on her. She could feel everything around her, but she was having a hard time concentrating on her powers. Instead she was trying to not look scared.

They went up some stairs and then down another hall until they came to a black door. This door was made with thick planks of old wood. The guide knocked once and turned an ancient latch. The room beyond was lit only by a fire burning in a brazier next to an old man who knelt on the floor atop a fine Persian rug. His features were hard to read. He could have been Jewish, or Greek, or Arab, or Turk, or Welsh. There was no telling. His countenance was placid as he turned his head slowly and looked at the two guests. His eyes fell first on Amaris. He took in the shape of her young lithe body and her beautiful but expressionless face. He then turned to Chet, and smiled.

"Ryder. It is good to see you again", he greeted Chet in barely accented English.

"Pleasure is mine, sir", Chet replied after bowing deeply showing the utmost respect.

"She has been my charge for several years, and has trained under me. I vouch for her skills, and now she must speak for herself." Chet gave Amaris one last look before turning his back on her and taking a seat against the wall, far away.

The man frowned, and bid her closer. "I do not know you. Write your name here." The man pulled out a quill pen and a piece of vellum. Amaris came close and got down on her knees. She dipped the pen in the ink, and in her elegant hand, she wrote her name.

The man took the parchment and held it up so that he could read what she had written. He crumpled it up and tossed it in the fire. "I do not know this name", he said again, now with frustration in his voice.

Amaris' heart was racing. She had no idea if she was doing something wrong, but she could not show weakness, not here and not now.

He looked at her and arched and eyebrow. "Serious? If you are as you say, then what have you lost?"

Images of her brothers and her parents flashed in her mind, and images of her second family flashed in her eyes. "Everything", she began. "I have lost everything."

"Liar!", the man on the rug scolded her. "No one who breathes God's air has lost everything. Now, what have you lost?"

Amaris swallowed the lump in her throat. "In order to explain what I have lost, I must first explain what I had."

The man gave her the smallest of nods. Amaris cleared her throat and told this man, this stranger, the story of her life.

"Hey, Carr, that was like the sickest throw ever when you got that guy out at second", Rich told his best friend Carrell Johanssen as they walked from Carr's bedroom towards the stairs.

Carr shrugged his shoulders as they walked. "The guy shouldn't have tried to run on me." Carrell was only 16 years old, but he was big, strong and athletic. He excelled at football, hockey, and baseball, but his first love was hockey. He could play hockey all day long. Some of his earliest and best memories were of he and his parents together at the ice when they used to live in North Dakota. Carr had been pretty sure that his life would be ruined when his mother had gotten pregnant again, and had a girl. Girls were the worst thing that could happen to young boys. In the early days Carr had prayed for his new sister go back wherever she had come from. Now though he felt completely ashamed when he thought back on how he had felt, because he wouldn't trade his sister for anything. He saw her standing on the second floor railing looking down at the front door waiting for their mother to come home.

Carr nudged his buddy in the ribs and whispered, "You wanna see something really cool? Watch this."

Carr rushed up behind Amaris and lifted his nine year old sister off the ground. Her little arms and legs flailed and kicked as she pretended to struggle. "Carr put me down!", she ordered in a high voice.

Carr blew and spit her hair out of his mouth as he pressed his sister over his head. "Stop wiggling, you know there's no getting out."

Amaris giggled but tried to sound serious when her older brother bounced her up and down. "Carr, I'm going to tell Mommy!"

"Watch this, Rich", Carr yelled. "Time to fly!" He raised Amaris high over his head and tossed his sister over the railing towards the hardwood floor below. It was 12 feet from the top of the railing to the floor, but Carrell was 6'2" and with his arms completely extended it was nearly 20 feet down.

Rich gasped and lunged forward as he saw Carr throw his little sister into the open air. He watched Amaris fall towards the ground, but she started twisting in the air and reaching out with all her limbs. Her finger tip barely brushed the railing, as she continued to fall. Then after she flipped in the air a couple of times, she had worked herself towards the steps that went down against the wall. She was inverted as she got near the bannister, but with one more flip, Amaris landed like a cat on the ornate banister. Her feet hit first, followed by her hands which gripped the wood tightly. She looked up at Carr then scrambled up the banister hand over hand and foot over foot until she was back upstairs on the railing. She jumped to the carpeted upstairs floor in front of her smiling brother. She put her feet back into her sandals and stuck out her tongue. She tried to look mad, but her light blue eyes were smiling.

Carr threw his head back and laughed. Rich's mouth just hung open. Amaris looked at him and stuck her tongue out even farther. "If I wanted to go downstairs in a hurry, I could do it myself", the little girl declared, and to prove her point, Amaris jumped as high as she could and back flipped over the railing, quickly falling out of sight. Rich rushed to the rail in time to see Amaris land softly on the floor below. She looked up at him, waved, then stuck her tongue out again. Carr waved back, and she ran outside to find their younger brother Errick.

"How did she do that? That was amazing?", Rich said breathlessly after the shock had worn off.

Carr shrugged his shoulders again. "That's Amaris. I don't know how she does it, but she does."

Carr and Rich started walking again. "Nah, I asked her once. She said she likes it. She doesn't get scared when she's in open air. I guess that's why she's so good at gymnastics." He paused and stopped as the two came down the stairs. "But no one else better mess with her. If they do, they have to go through me." The boys laughed and continued out to Rich's car.

Amaris was outside when she heard her mother's station wagon pull into the driveway. She and Errick came running across the grass of their fairly large back yard, up the steps of the deck, that was her father's pride and joy, and into the house. Annalise Johanssen's hands were full when she stepped into her home. Her day at work had been long and frustrating. When Anna and her family had moved to Pittsburgh seven years earlier, she had envisioned working for the good of the downtrodden from inside the system. It hadn't been easy for a woman with a counter culture background like Anna to be appointed Assistant United States Attorney, but she had done it. She had started out on such a high with this job, but it had slowly started to eat away at her idealism. The politics and corruption at the highest levels made Anna wonder sometimes how the entire system didn't just collapse. Her husband would tell Anna that it didn't collapse because of people like her. She guessed that he was right, but she wasn't sure how long she could keep being the good soldier. Her family helped keep her strong. Deep down in Anna's mind she wanted to preserve at least a little of the system so when her children were adults, they could get a fair shake from the justice system. Anna dropped her briefcase and her hand full of files when Amaris and Errick ran up to her.

"Mommy!", Errick yelled as he ran. Anna bent down to let her son run into her arms. Amaris stopped short. Anna hugged six year old Errick and kissed him on the cheek. She looked up then and saw Amaris standing there.

Anna held Errick tightly in one arm when she suddenly lurched forward grabbing her daughter around her waist and pulling her close. "You're not too big to get a hug." Anna tickled her daughter's ribs, and Errick got into the act. While the three of them were laughing on the floor Amaris heard the sound of metal snapping.

Amaris froze and both children waited for their mother's reaction. Anna reached down and lifted her St. Jude medal from the floor. The chain that held the medal had broken. After a few seconds, Anna smiled and got to her feet. "This is what we get for horsing around", she told her children. She put the medal inside a ceramic bowl on the table near the door. "Its ok. St. Jude is the patron of lost causes, and I don't think I'll need his help to get the chain fixed tomorrow." Amaris and Errick were pleased that their mother wasn't mad. She always wore that medal, and it looked completely unnatural for her not to have it on, but she would get it fixed tomorrow. No one in the house knew that Annalise Johanssen didn't have a tomorrow.

Donald Johanssen came home and immediately started up the grill. He was a fine arts professor at Pitt, and also czar of the grill. He looked out as his two younger children played with the next door neighbors while he cooked. Donald was a man who was passionate about the things he loved. He loved his art with a passion and that came across not only to his students but also to his children, who he also loved with a passion. Each of the Johanssen children had a genuine love of art, and each had special talents in it. Even Carr, who looked like the definition of a jock, was a gifted and expressive painter. Donald and his family sat down to dinner at the table only after Carr had rushed home from being out with friends for a few hours.

"Nice of you to join us before the food got cold, Carrell", Donald scolded his son.

"Sorry Dad", was all Carr said as he pulled out his chair and sat down. He shot a look towards Amaris because she loved it when Carr got in trouble. She just twisted her face and tried to look away.

Anna looked at her daughter disapprovingly. "Ok, Amaris, be good, and say Grace."

"Yes, ma'am", little Amaris said and lowered her head. "In the name of the Father and of the Son..."

After dinner Amaris was pretending to read a book while she was really watching her younger brother setting up his G.I. Joe army to do battle with Cobra. She would wait until he got his men in position, and then she would extend her leg knocking several of the men over. After the third time, Errick roared and jumped on his sister. "Stop it!", the little boy cried.

Amaris laughed and easily pushed her younger brother off. She wasn't big for her age, but she was strong. She pressed her six year old brother off of her so that his chubby hands could only grab at her forearms. Her parents looked on shaking their heads, but they didn't stop them. For the last several days, it had been Errick tormenting Amaris so turnabout was fair play. Besides they had bigger problems.

"I don't think the judge is going to go down quietly, Donald", Anna began and sipped at her drink.

Donald took his wife's hand. "We're going to have to work through it. If its getting like you say, then perhaps you should call the FBI."

Anna shook her head. "Its too early. If I call them now, it'll blow the case to pieces."

Amaris couldn't really hear what her parents were talking about, but she didn't like the tone of the conversation. It sounded like they were worried about something, and she hated that, so she finally pulled away from her brother and started up the stairs.

"It has something to do with DeBraya", Anna told her husband as Amaris walked by. She wished that she could close her ears like she could close her eyes, but she made it to her room and forgot all about it after a few minutes.

Her bedroom was next to Carr's, and he was listening to Pump by Aerosmith as loudly as his new cd player would go. Amaris didn't mind. She sort of liked Aerosmith anyway. She didn't like them the same as she liked New Kids on the Block, but sometimes she didn't mind listening to something that rocked. She sat down in front of her mirror and started brushing out her hair. After a while the cd stopped, and Amaris could sit without hearing the echoes of Steven Tyler's wailing in her ears.

There was never a crash, sounds of breaking glass, or of splintering wood, just a yell from Anna and from Errick as the men rushed in through the Johanssen's front door. Donald jumped in front of his wife and pulled his younger son out of the way as the men came inside. They all had semi-automatic pistols. Donald looked for something to use in defense, but there was nothing. He saw one man coming towards him and at least three more entering his house. One of them ran upstairs, but he had to focus on the one in front of him. The man rushed in with his gun ready. Anna screamed, and turned to run out the back with her son, but two men came from behind.

Donald rushed the man with the gun. He put his hands out front and tried to grab the weapon. The attacker let Donald's attack come, and when the moment was right he clubbed him in the head with the butt of the pistol. Donald staggered, but his adrenaline did not let him go down. He grabbed the man's wrist and kept his hand towards the floor while Donald raised his right hand and punched the man in his ski-mask covered face. They jostled for an advantage.

Amaris could hear the shouts from below. She wanted to do something, but she couldn't move. She still held her brush in her hand. She looked towards her partially opened bedroom door and saw a shape pass by. Then she heard Carr's door open quickly.

"Hey, who are you!", her brother demanded. Then there was banging. Something hit against the wall hard, and Amaris jumped. Her teeth clattered together and her blood had turned to ice. She wanted to help her brother. She could hear him call for help, and she could hear the effort in his voice as he struggled with the man. There was a prolonged grunt and a thud as her brother hit the hall floor. Amaris could only hear her own breathing, until she heard the heavy footfalls of the shape outside her door. She wanted to jump up and close the door, but he pushed Amaris' bedroom door open slowly. Her breathing quickened. The shape became a man as he entered the light of her room.

All her life Amaris had made small sculptures of horses, rainbows, flowers, and snowflakes. They lined the walls of her room because Amaris always wanted to be surrounded by pretty things, but as this man entered her room, everything around her turned evil, as evil as the smile on his face. Her eyes were wide in fright as the man came in. His gun was in his holster, but he held a knife. The image of that knife seared itself in the little girl's mind. He held it low on his right side, the point near the ground. Large drops of her brother's blood splattered onto the floor making a trail as the man came towards her. Everything inside of her said to run, but it took all of her will simply to back away. She held her brush and moved away from the man at the same speed he came towards her.

"You're a cute little girl. I'm going to make you a woman before you die", the man's voice sounded to Amaris like the hissing of a thousand snakes. He held the knife in his right hand, but he began to unbutton his pants with his left. Amaris was against the wall. She could go no further. The brush dropped to the floor, and her body trembled. Her eyes darted left and right, but there was no way to go. She could feel the heat from his body, and the lust in his eyes was confusing and mortifying.

"They didn't tell me that I would get to have some fun on this job." He laughed and reached out to touch Amaris for the first time.

There was a crash from behind. The door flew open and Carrell lunged forward and dove. His legs gave out short, but his momentum carried him far enough. Carr's chest hit the man in the back and side knocking him to Amaris' left. Before the attacker could do anything, Carr raised up with great effort and brought his hands up over his head. Amaris could see the wound then. Carr's white shirt was covered in his own blood and the stab dripped blood with every movement. A tear came to his eye as he stretched the injury to raise his hands, but he found the strength. One look at his sister gave Carr the strength. He brought his fists down. The blow from Carr stunned the grown man, but he spun underneath the 16 year old. Carr reached out with both hands and grabbed for the knife. The man pulled back slicing a deep cut down the back of Carr's hand, but he held on. He banged the man's hand into the leg of Amaris' night stand. A sharp corner sent pain to the man's shoulder making his grip weaker.

The man punched Carr in the jaw twice hard, but the teenager held on. Carr's saw the knife barely in the man's hand. He let go with one hand, and took the knife. The man tried to push the boy off, but Carrell was too big for that. He wasn't going anywhere that easily. Carr got a decent grip on the knife and stabbed sideways. Carr's blood mixed with his attacker's when the blade slid between the man's ribs. He pushed the knife in as far as it would go before he pulled it out again. His second stab wasn't as well placed. It hit directly on a rib. Blood trickled to the mouth of the attacker, but he backhanded Carr with all the strength in his body. The weakened teenager fell back to the floor. The man scrambled to his feet holding his side.

Amaris was still against the wall, but she wanted to help her brother. He was flat on his back with the knife still in his right hand. He put his left hand over the wound and sat up quickly. The attacker was coming for him. The man reached for his gun.

"AMARIS RUN NOWWWW!", Carrell screamed. The passion of his plea broke through her fright. In a single instant, Amaris' mind returned. She ran.

The attacker looked at the little girl running, and he hesitated. That was all Carr needed. The 16 year old didn't know what was going on, and he had no idea that there were more men in the house, but he knew one thing. This man was never going to touch his sister. Through the pain and the loss of blood, Carrell rose up and stabbed the attacker on the inside of the upper thigh near the groin. The man jumped up and squealed. Carr stabbed him again. When he fell, Carr jumped on him stabbing the entire time. Over and over Carr stabbed the attacker with his own knife. The man's arms tried to push him off again, but Carr kept stabbing.

When Amaris got near the stairs, she saw two men on their way up. They had been sent to see what was taking their partner so long. Amaris reached out her arms and put her hands on the opposite sides of the hallway wall. She pressed out, then quickly put her feet against the wall too. The men were almost where they could see her, but she climbed up the wall. She was scared, and she was confused, but her body was working fine. She scurried straight up the wall until she was against the ceiling. She flattened her body. Her arms could barely reach the other side, so instead of her palms being pressed against the wall, only her fingers could touch. It took all the strength in Amaris' body to stay up there.

She held her breath as the men came up the stairs. They saw the blood on the ground and didn't see her. They were right below her. Amaris' body shook from the effort, but she was strong. She held on. They walked past her room and entered Carr's room. She let go and fell to the ground. She was next to silent as her feet hit the floor. She ran down the stairs to get help, but she wasn't prepared for what she would see.

Donald Johanssen lay in a pool of his own blood, dead from several stab wounds to the upper body. He had fought the man who had come into the house first, but he didn't see the two men coming from behind. They had stabbed Donald in the back. As he lay dying, he cursed himself for failing to protect his family. He never saw his daughter come down the stairs.

Amaris looked towards the front door. She was about to go for it, but something wasn't right. She stayed put. There was a cry from the kitchen. She looked around the corner, and then she heard a shot. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound. It was the first time she had ever heard a gunshot in her life.

Upstairs, the two attackers had finally entered Amaris' room after finding all the other rooms empty. When they pushed the door open they saw the mess. Mixed in with the rainbows and the ponies, there was blood. Carrell sat with his back against Amaris' bed. He was completely covered in blood, some of it his own, but most of it belonged to the dead attacker lying not two feet away.

Carr looked up at the men. He was too weary to fight. He could not even manage to raise the knife. He didn't know that he had killed the brother of one of the men who now stood over him. That man's face was flushed beneath his mask. He raised his gun to Carr's head. The boy didn't try to move. He prayed for Amaris as he was killed.

Right after the shot, a shape came from the foyer near the door. Amaris hadn't seen him, but she was relieved that she hadn't tried for the front door. The man went towards the front, so Amaris headed towards the back. She darted from wall to wall. She could hear shouts and she could hear crying. She squinted against the bright lights of the kitchen as she looked through the doorway.

Anna was against her stove, and they had pulled her son from her grasp. Errick was being held roughly by his arm. He was unhurt, but crying with despair. Amaris knew that she had to do something, but she didn't know what. She didn't know that her mother had already seen her.

Anna's spirits were lifted when she saw her daughter's face. The men couldn't see her, but Anna could. Anna was a good lawyer and knew how to hide her emotions. She didn't let on in the least that she had seen her daughter until Amaris looked at Anna's right hand. It was inching its way under the stove as the leader of the attack held Errick.

"Tell me where the stuff is! You know what I want. Nobody else has to die. This is what I do for a living. I don't give a shit about you or your family. Give me what I want, and I'll let the rest of you people live. It's that simple. I would have told your asshole husband that, but he had to play the hero."

Anna look up at the man and then past him as he spoke. She knew a lie when she heard one. She had been a lawyer long enough to hear thousands of them. Her left hand had found what she was looking for. Amaris knew what was there. Errick had grabbed a steak knife from the drawer a week earlier, to cut an apple, but instead he had cut himself. He had dropped it, and in the rush of pain kicked it under the oven. No one had ever reached under there to get the knife, but Anna had it now. Her eyes locked on Amaris' eyes then. Words passed between them even if their mouths didn't move. She could see her mother's love and her mother's hope.

"They killed my brother", a voice yelled from upstairs. " And where's the daughter!"

The leader turned away from Anna towards the voice, and she took the chance. She snatched the knife from beneath the oven, raised it up, and stabbed it down through the boot and into the leader's foot. He roared in pain, and dropped Errick. He reached down to get the knife, but Anna twisted it with one hand and pulled her son with the other.

Amaris ran into the kitchen then. She ran as hard and as fast as her legs could carry her, right at the man. He was leaning down to try again for the knife. Amaris lowered her shoulder like she had seen her brother do on the hockey rink, and drove it into the man's side. It didn't hurt him, but it knocked him off balance. Anna did the rest. She pulled him down, and he fell.

Errick was sitting on the ground too scared to move. "Amaris!", the boy yelled as she ran. She bent down and picked up her six year old brother and started towards the back door. He was heavy, but in the fright of the moment, Amaris found the strength. The back door to the house was at the back of the kitchen, and Amaris didn't see anything between her and it. Errick clung to his big sister as she ran. The man who had been in the foyer ran through the dining room to cut her off. Amaris couldn't see him coming in the darkness from her right side, but she knew he was there. She could feel him. He was trying to use an angle, but at the last instant, a burst of power from Amaris' legs made her go just that bit faster. He missed.

The door was in sight, and it was unlocked. Her eyes focused on the door, blocking out everything behind her. She was going to make it. She already planned her route. Once she got in the yard, there was no way these men could find her. She would go to Dr. Krasecki's house for help. Her legs pumped and pumped. She could no longer feel the weight of her brother.

The two men hurried from upstairs and came around the corner towards the kitchen. They turned the corner in time to see their leader off balance against the counter with a knife stuck in his boot, and the shape of the daughter running away. The man who's brother had been killed saw the girl running for the door, and he took off after her. The other man ran to their leader. Anna pulled the bloody knife from the leader's foot. She was looking for a more tender place to stab, when she felt the hot bite of a bullet, then another and another.

Amaris heard the shots, but only distantly. Every fiber in her body was tuned into getting out of the door. She was almost there. She darted around a chair. She reached out to turn the knob with an attacker right behind her, but he bumped into the chair that he didn't know was there. He tripped and thrust out his hand. It grabbed the only part of the girl that he could reach. His gloved fingers grasped the nine year old by her hair. He took a grip and yanked backwards hard.

Amaris felt the pull on her scalp. She grit her teeth from the instant pain. She was prepared to pull every strand out of her head to keep going, but he yanked her off of her feet. She went flying through the air, and so did Errick. Amaris tumbled with her back to the ground, but once he let go of her hair, she spun. He had expected Amaris to land in a heap at his feet, but the little girl landed on her hands and feet instead. She looked to her right where Errick had fallen. She pushed herself up readying to grab her brother and run, but the man took her by the hair again and pulled her head up only to stomp her back. Her vision went white from the blow, and she hung there helpless.

The leader had regained his senses, but he hopped on one foot over Anna Johanssen's dead body. "Why did you shoot her, asshole? Now we don't know what the fuck is where. The Collectors are not going to be happy."

"With a goddamn steak knife? You are a fucking moron!", he yelled in exasperation.

One of the men dragged Amaris over towards the oven with Errick not far behind. "What do we do now?"

Through the disorientation and headache, Amaris heard the knife leave the sheath. It was only an instant before she felt the cold blade against her tender skin. Amaris' last thoughts were to ask God not to let her die, just before the blade sliced across the base of her throat. Blood poured out. She fainted before the cutting was done. Her limp body fell onto the floor and the men stepped over her. Errick fell next to her. His chubby hand touched his sister's shoulder, but she didn't move. The little boy tried to speak, but he had no voice. His eyes closed.

The room looked strange as Amaris slowly and painfully opened her eyes. She was afraid of what she would see, because she could already feel the peculiar sensation of her blood mixing with the air. Her hand went to her neck. She put pressure on it. It felt better when she pressed down. Her eyes looked around for the source of the strange orange glow. Fire burned above her. It had already consumed much of the kitchen had started working towards the front of the house. Amaris couldn't make out anything in the strange shifting light. Then she felt the heat. She had to get away. She crawled using her legs and one arm. Her other hand she kept pressed against the slice in her throat. She couldn't breathe deeply so her lungs took in and expelled air quickly.

A small voice inside her head told her to go to the back door. She crawled along the floor leaving a trail of her blood on the tile, but she kept going. Jars and cans exploded behind her, and there were loud bangs and crashes as the fire destroyed everything it touched. All she heard was the rushing of air. The flames breathed, but she could not. Amaris stopped. She couldn't move. She was going to die, but something told her to go. She felt strength in her arms and legs that hadn't been there before. Her body almost moved on its own, following a path in the darkness. She saw then that the back door was open. The men had left it open so the air could feed the fire. Amaris crawled out onto the deck. She kept crawling down the back stairs and into the lush grass of the back yard. The coolness felt good against her hot skin. "Don't let me die", the nine year old muttered with blood covered lips. When she was a distance from her house, she fell onto the grass. She heard the sounds of breaking glass as the windows of her home shattered when the flames touched them. Amaris had to concentrate on breathing, and she had to will her heart to beat as she lay dying.

She was content to stay there, but she remembered her family. She could see them in front of her, and she could hear her their voices. She turned her entire body around then, and started back towards the house. She couldn't leave them there. Though she was weak, she crawled back the way she had come, even managing to climb the stairs of the deck. The voices of her family rang in her head.

"I'll save you", the little girl muttered and crawled. She could feel the heat from the flames. They licked through the open back door scorching the siding, but Amaris kept crawling, trying to save the family that was already dead.

She crawled even when she heard the sound of someone running behind her. She was too weak to turn, and if it was one of the attackers then she tried to ready her young soul to die, but she felt gentle hands encircle her and turn her over. The crazy light of the flames illuminated her neighbor Dr. Krasecki. His normally smiling face was distorted in the light and from the shock of seeing all of this. Amaris face and body were covered in blood. Her skin was damp, cold, and beyond pale.

"I have to save them", Amaris mouthed. Her body convulsed and the chill of death crept into her.

The doctor ignored her words. "Stay with me!", he yelled. The doctor's son had run up with the hose, but he saw quickly that it was too little and far too late. "Go get my bag!", the father screamed to his son. The boy took off at a sprint. "Hold my hand", the doctor said and slid his hand in between Amaris' fingers. She squeezed. It was all she could do. She was dangling over a canyon and only his hand kept her from falling.

"Stay with me, Amaris. Listen to my voice and keep your eyes open. Let me see those pretty eyes." He turned towards his house. "HURRY!", he called to his son, who was already on his way back.

Doctor Richard Krasecki had once been an idealistic young doctor and had signed up to serve in the United States Army hoping to make a difference. He had been sent promptly to Vietnam where he had seen things that had scarred him for life, but it was those experiences that saved Amaris Johanssen's life.

Dr. Krasecki rode in the ambulance holding her hand the entire time. The idea that someone could do this to a child turned the doctor's stomach and made him think hard. About halfway to the hospital, the doctor looked down. He saw Amaris' eyes open. They were unfocused and cloudy, but she was alive. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. The medics worked on her furiously trying to keep her alive for only a few more minutes. The doctor could see that they were doing a good job, and he stayed out of their way until her eyes opened wider in their sockets. Every muscle in the little girl's body tensed. Her head turned, and her eyes locked on Dr. Krasecki's face just before they rolled into her head. Her hand went slack, and her breathing stopped.

Kneeling on the floor in a darkened room inside the Black Gate, Amaris had to remind herself to breathe. She was not dead, and she had not died, but the pain of these memories was almost more than she could stand. Her body ached as if from a fever, and her throat was parched to the point of closing.

"For you", the man next to the brazier spoke quietly. He pulled a cup of steaming tea from where Amaris couldn't see and handed it to her.

Amaris shook her head and looked the man in the eye. His dark brown eyes had seen so much. Looking into this man's eyes was like looking at the Black Gate itself.

The emergency surgery had lasted for more than three hours at Children's Hospital, but in the end the doctors didn't know how much good they had done. The girl had survived, but her hold on life was weak. The media had gotten a hold of the story, but no cameras were allowed in the hospital at all. The staff at the world renown hospital could understand that interest. Things like this didn't happen in the Steel City. It was shocking and horrible, but they had to remember that there was a real child in a room fighting for her life.

The Chief of Police looked down at the little girl's bed and vowed in his heart to catch the men who had done this. He went to the doctors. "How is she?"

"Brave", was the first word out of the surgeon's mouth. "She's fighting, but I don't know. She might die any hour. Its touch and go at best. She lost a lot of blood and went through some pretty severe trauma." They held out hope, but it was fading. The doctors explained all of this to the only family member they could find.

Marlene Breck walked quietly down the hall, silently dreading what she would see when she reached her destination. She always thought of herself as tough. She had to be, but this loss tested her in ways that no person should experience. Marlene and Annalise, her twin sister, had been nearly inseparable as children, and as teens. After they graduated from college, they had traveled around the world for an entire year then spent another year going to Grateful Dead concerts, but one day they had decided to grow up and become women instead of girls. Marlene had married Bruce, and Anna had finally finished the law degree that she had started just after college. Even as their lives became more and more different, they had stayed close through it all, but now as Marlene walked down the hall getting sympathetic looks from hospital workers, she knew that's she was about to see her niece, the last living member of the family that Anna had started. As much as Marlene tried, she could not prepare herself for what she saw.

Amaris was a hollow husk of the girl she had been. She lay in the center of an array of instruments and machines that worked tirelessly to keep her young body from dying. Marlene felt a wave of nausea overcome her. They had told her on the phone that her niece was alive, but they had lied. Amaris wasn't dead because her heart still beat in her chest, but what Marlene saw lying in that bed wasn't life. Marlene stayed in the room for more than an hour, too shocked to speak or move or react. It was all too much. The horror and tragedy of it reduced her tears and sobs. She knew then, that it would have been better had she not come. She was no good to Amaris. Anna was always the smarter of the twins. She would have known what to do, but not her, not Marlene.

She prepared to leave the room, feeling like little more than a failure. She opened the door and looked down the hall towards the elevator. Her hand pushed against the door to keep it from hitting her as she stood in the doorway. She took one step out the door and turned back. When she looked, she didn't see the machines or the instruments or the bandages around her neck, all Marlene saw was Amaris. She saw the daughter that Anna loved so much. She saw the girl who looked so much like her own daughter and so much like Anna, and therefore like herself. She looked all alone. Her mother had been a lawyer, but Marlene knew that if she left, there would be no one to plead Amaris' case. Marlene was torn as she stood with half her body in the hall and the other half in the doorway. Her mind raced, but to no conclusions. She was a swirl of emotion without a track to follow until a doctor gave her one.

A young student, doing rounds with his professor stood a few feet away looking at a chart. "I would have to say that it would be impossible to recover from those wounds and to have any meaningful chance at a normal life. I would say-"

He never got a chance to finish his sentence. Marlene would never know what he had planned to say. She rushed over to him before she had realized that she was moving, and she took the doctor by his coat. "She has a family! As long as me and my children are a alive my niece, Amaris, has a family. You better do everything you can to save her life. No more compromises! No more opinions! If it doesn't help Amaris, then I don't want to hear it!" Marlene's passion stoked the fires of the staff at the hospital. Hopelessness was a disease, but in this case, one woman's passion was the cure.

Amaris knew nothing of the struggle going on around her. While her aunt talked to doctors, policemen, firemen, coroners, insurance men, and funeral directors, Amaris lay in a coma. Her vitals were getting better, but she had been only moments from death several times. Doctors and nurses would rush in to save her life. Amaris never felt any of it. Inside of her, she could feel the hands all around her, and she should have been able to hear the voices, but instead she only heard one. It was a calm and soothing voice, and yet it was powerful at the same time. She focused on that voice. Usually it was faint, but at the times when her body failed, the voice became all consuming. There was nothing of herself when the voice got like that, but then things would settle down and go back to what had become normal for her.

The sixth day of Amaris' coma was July 1st, her 10th birthday. Marlene had been forced to leave the hospital room to meet with an insurance adjuster. They met at what was left of the Johanssen home. The burnt ruins didn't resemble the home that Anna and Donald had made. Marlene had found the strength to deal with all of this, and she found the strength to talk business while standing in front of the place where her sister, two nephews, and brother-in-law had been murdered. With Marlene's blessing, some of the neighbors and friends had organized to attempt to sift the debris for anything salvageable. There were some things from the basement that could be saved, but most of the things on the upper floors had been lost. Until one of Anna's coworkers found something. It had been covered by a couple feet of debris, but near the scorched stoop of the front porch, sat an overturned, unbroken ceramic bowl. Debbie Pronger had just started out as a clerk at the Court, but Anna had made a big impression on her. When Debbie lifted the bowl and saw what had fallen out, she had to choke back her cry. It was blackened from soot and misshapen from the intense heat, but it was recognizable. Debbie took the medal gently and carried it to Marlene. She took it and clutched it close to her chest. Anna'd had that medal since the 7th grade when a counselor had told her that she was a lost cause. Anna had laughed in his face, and ever after worn the medal of St. Jude, the Patron Saint of Lost Causes. It had started as a joke to needle the counselor, but as she got older she realized that the lost cause had shaped her life, because Anna began believing that there was no such thing.

Marlene stood still, holding that medal for a long time, but deep down she knew. She knew she couldn't keep it. This was something precious and dear to Anna, but it didn't belong to Marlene. It belonged to Amaris. Later that day, she opened Amaris' hand and placed the medal inside. "She wanted you to have this", Marlene uttered, choked with emotion. Finally it spilled over. She had managed not to do it for days. While she had taken care of everything, Marlene had refused to cry, but finally she couldn't take it anymore. She cried then for the little girl who couldn't cry for herself.

Eleven year old Julia Breck was a lot like the women she knew the best. She was as stubborn as her mother and as head strong as her Aunt Anna had been. Julia had asked to go with her mother from the outset, but Marlene had thought to protect her child from what was a horrible situation. Julia's persistence had paid off. She had called her mother on Amaris' birthday, and heard the weariness in her mother's voice. When Julia got off the plane she saw her mother's face, and knew that she had to help. Julia and her mother were close, more than that, Julia was protective of her mother. The tween set her mind to helping her mother and cousin, but as they traveled down the hall towards Amaris' room, Marlene was trying to protect her daughter. She tried to explain what she was going to see in the room, but Julia didn't believe it until she saw it.

Amaris and Julia looked like sisters, maybe even twins. They had laughed about it, and it had been a source of pride to their mother's that they hadn't let their husbands' genes mess up their daughters. Julia was a little taller and her eyes were a darker blue, but she had always thought of Amaris as her closest cousin, like a sister, and her best friend. Julia's eyes filled quickly, and she looked up at her mother.

"Who could do this! Who would do something like this! The world is horrible, and I wish I was dead!"

Marlene took her daughter by the shoulder and turned her chin up. "No, you don't. You have to be strong and help Amaris survive. She's fighting hard, and we have to help her anyway we can."

After that, Julia rarely left her cousin's room. She would read books to Amaris and have one sided conversations. She took her time to learn all she could about Amaris' condition as well. She asked the nurses and the doctors questions so that she could understand how to help her cousin. At night Marlene would join Julia in Amaris' room and the three of them would sleep.

On the ninth night of her coma, Amaris opened her eyes. It was hard to focus, but the room was mostly dark; she adjusted quickly. She realized then where she was. During her coma Amaris hadn't felt pain, but now she could feel all the needles in her arms, she could feel the machines all around her, but most of all, she felt the pain in her throat. She wouldn't attempt to turn her neck, so she moved her eyes as far down as she could, and she saw something familiar. Her cousin was leaning forward on a chair, her head resting on the bed near Amaris' knee. Amaris felt so stiff, so hot, and so tried. Her lips were cracked, and it hurt to move them, but she did anyway.

That small sound broke through Julia's sleep, and she sat up. Her face went from drowsy to ecstatic in an instant. "Amaris!", she squealed and jumped up from the chair. "Mom! Mom! Amaris is awake!"

Marlene got up from her cot and came over to her niece to see for herself. She had prayed, but it was still a shock when Amaris woke up. Amaris' eyes fell on Marlene, and it was disconcerting. She looked so much like Amaris' own mother that it was confusing. While hospital staff rushed in, Amaris kept her eyes on Marlene. Then as if the breaking of a dam the memories of what had happened flooded in. It hurt her physically when flashes of that tragic night went through her mind. As that was happening, Amaris felt something in her hand. She pulled her hand from her aunt's hand and turned it over. When she saw the blackened Saint Jude medal in her palm the tears began to flow, and she didn't know if they would ever stop.

The next several days at the hospital were touchy at best. Amaris alternated between bouts of sorrow and guilt. She would replay the night over and over again sometimes acting out the events with her body. She didn't want to do that, but she couldn't help herself. The weight of her loss threatened the crush her. Her aunt and cousin were the only thin thread keeping Amaris from falling into a pit of her own despair, but that thread broke often. When she tried to sleep without the aid of drugs, the faces of her family members would float in front of her, accusing faces and dead faces. Amaris hated sleep. The darkness and emptiness consumed her when she slept. Her nightmares attacked her and took her over.

Amaris' eyes opened wide during a lull in her never ending nightmare. There wasn't the usual scream that would have alerted people. Instead she was quiet, as quiet as the men had been before they broke into her family's house and killed her family. They should have killed her too because what they had left her with was no life at all. Amaris' overwhelming guilt and remorse overrode the pain as she sat up in her sweat soaked bed and worked her way to the floor. It was hard to walk still, but she went over to the table where the nurses laid out the dozen or so pills she got three times a day. She spotted what she had been looking for. She looked at her sleeping aunt and cousin then made her way to the table. Her eyes focused on the scissors, but it was the face of her brother Errick that stood out in front of her. The guilt came in waves that ripped through the girl, and she was powerless to stop them, just as she was powerless to save any of her family. She had only been able to save herself.

She took the scissors in her hands and was disappointed to see that the ends were rounded. She threw them down and pulled at her hair in frustration. As she felt that fresh pain, she remembered the kitchen. She picked up the scissors and started cutting. She snipped and snipped and snipped. Hair fell in skeins to floor, eventually piling up at her feet. The more she cut, the more quickly she cut. She would cut on the right side before switching to her left side.

She kept cutting. "I should have saved him, but he caught me", Amaris answered. She could feel the sensation of him grabbing her hair as she cut. "I should have saved him", she repeated softly, and kept cutting.

Finally Marlene woke up and the staff came in, but the deed had been done. Over the next couple of days, Amaris finally agreed to let Marlene even her hair. Her bouts of guilt and sorrow continued, but she didn't try to harm herself again, and after months of therapy, both physical and mental, Amaris was able to leave Pittsburgh and go to her Aunt's home in Bismarck, ND. The doctors had marveled at her recovery. Many of them had guessed that she would never talk again, but she had proved them wrong the first day. Many said that she would have problems with swallowing or with respiration for the rest of her life, but after only a few weeks her aerobic capacity was in the top percentiles of her age group. Many doctors thought that she was a miracle, but Amaris felt cursed. None of them could begin to understand how she felt. There was a gaping hole in a part of her that she couldn't fill. She was hungry for something that she couldn't eat. Her hands ached for something they could never hold. When she wanted to find some warmth or love or safety, there was none. Everything was hollow, just like she felt.

Her Aunt and often her cousin were there to help Amaris along during her rehab. They had shuttled between North Dakota and Pittsburgh sometimes twice in a week. The financial strain was great, but it was all worth it. There had also been strain on Marlene's family during the ordeal, but when Amaris had come to live with them everyone had been very welcoming.

It should have been easy for Amaris to blend into the Breck family after she had arrived. Julia was there along with Amaris' other cousins, Bruce Junior, Brant, and Cooper. All three of them worked to make her feel at home. Bruce Jr. was away in college most of the time, but he stopped by often to check in on her. Brant and Cooper turned out to be the only people in the world at that time to who could make Amaris smile for any length of time. She felt ugly, unwanted, scared, scarred, sad, and empty, but they made her forget about that for a few minutes at a time.

Amaris was also worried about being a burden. The Breck family was comfortable, but they were far from wealthy. Bruce Senior worked for the city government, and provided for all of them, but he made sure that everyone knew it. Amaris didn't have any direct problems with him, but she never felt completely wanted by him. It was just one more negative to add to her very long list. She blamed herself. She added expenses to them, and then there were her nightmares.

They had followed her from Pittsburgh and were corrupting the peace of the Breck household just like they corrupted Amaris' mind. Marlene had taken Amaris to the best psychologists around, and they had given her all sorts of personal exercises, and had attempted to talk her through her problems, but they never got to the root of them. Amaris had never had a nightmare in her life before that night. This was the fruit of the seed planted by the evil of the men who had killed her family. This had been their taint and now it was inside her. She had seen bad things before, but the love for her family left no room for darkness to linger. That love shielded her from all manner of things, but it had been twisted and corrupted by her own guilt before it had been snatched from her completely. That void was fertile ground for the taint. It swirled around deep inside Amaris' soul, and Amaris wasn't strong enough to fight it on her own. The resulting nightmares were often loud and violent.

Through all of that, Julia remained by Amaris' side. They had shared a room for a time, but Amaris' nightmares were such that Julia rarely got to sleep a complete night. She never complained, but after a visit, Bruce Junior offered to allow Amaris to takeover his room. He would even let her redecorate it. He took down all his Viking's posters. Amaris moved into the room, but she didn't change the bare walls. She didn't have that love of beautiful things like she had before. Her father had said that a person had to have a touch of beauty on the inside be able to recognize it on the outside. There was no beauty left in Amaris. She was dead on the inside only living until one day her body would follow suit.

Time came for her to go back to school. Marlene had been home schooling her so that she could catch back up to her class. Amaris had agreed to go back to school, but the idea of facing others her age was mortifying. One night, a few days before school began for her, she was standing in the mirror in Julia's room.

"I feel so ugly", she told her cousin as she rubbed the scar at the base of her neck. Amaris' body had healed otherwise.

Julia looked up from the magazine she was reading. "Amaris, you aren't ugly. We look just alike. If you're ugly, then so am I. And since I'm not ugly, neither are you."

The eleven year's old logic should have worked, but Amaris couldn't see it. "You don't have this", she told her cousin while tracing her scar. It itched from time to time, but she tried not to scratch it because then it would hurt. Her Aunt Marlene put all sorts of creams and ointments on it to make it fade, but it was still bad to Amaris' eyes.

Julia huffed as she looked at her cousin. "Amaris, you have to stop doing this stuff!", she scolded her cousin. "Stop trying to find new problems. You have enough already. Try and find a solution."

Amaris couldn't take Julia being angry with her. She felt like she was cracking in two as her cousin got off the bed and stormed to a table on the side of her room. While Julia rifled through stuff on the table, Amaris teared up. She still cried for no reason some times. She tried to fight the urge, but it was impossible, like now. She thought to run from the room, but instead of turning around with a frown, Julia turned around with a smile and a turquoise choker.

Amaris wiped her eyes and put the necklace around her neck. Her cousin fastened it, and slid it into place. It covered the scar completely. Julia was satisfied when she saw Amaris' face brighten. Then Amaris' eyebrows arched, and she ran from the room. Julia was confused until Amaris ran back in with her mother's medal. She held it up to the choker.

Julia just smiled and nodded. Every now and then Amaris would smile, but as she looked at herself in the mirror with her mother's medal, she beamed. She attached the medal to the choker and then fashioned a clasp so she could attach the medal to all the chokers that she eventually collected. For the first time in months, Amaris felt pretty. Just that little bit of good was enough to sustain her for a long time.

Things started to even out for Amaris Johanssen. She attended school and despite the worst fears of the teachers, she did well. She had always been a good student, and she had no problems making friends. It helped that Julia was a grade ahead of her cousin, and quite popular. It also helped that none of the kids in the school knew Amaris' story. Things at home weren't as easy. Amaris didn't know about it because Marlene didn't want her to, but she and Bruce Senior were having problems again. Things had been rocky before, but they had worked them out. This time it wouldn't be so easy.

"We have bills, Marlene!", Bruce Sr. began. "You have all that insurance money. Just sittin on it for that girl, and what about us? What about your family?"

Marlene's eyes narrowed and she looked at her husband. "Amaris is part of this family", Marlene began in a low voice. "And that money is going to be for Amaris when she gets older. For school or whatever. Its not for us, Bruce. Don and Anna left that money for Amaris. The best I can do is try and make sure it earns some interest. Its not ours, Bruce!"

"Don't try and lecture me!", Bruce roared. He rose up from his chair and loomed over his wife.

Bruce raised his hand and brought it down hard against his wife's cheek. Her head spun, and she had to put her hand against the floor to keep from falling completely. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, but Bruce could tell that his blow hadn't changed her mind. He raised his hand again, but thought better of it. He stormed out of the house. He wouldn't come back until the next day.

Later that night, Brant brought Julia and Amaris home. They had gone skating. Julia was as good a skater as Amaris was a gymnast. Amaris loved seeing Julia skate. After a short time, Julia went up to her room, but Amaris and Brant ended up in the kitchen where Marlene was cooking. Amaris noticed the bruise even though her aunt was trying to hide it.

"Oh, umm, a pot fell out of the cabinet. I didn't even know it had made a mark", her aunt lied.

Amaris couldn't see Brant's face. He had gone from his normal jovial self to a near rage. Marlene didn't turn when she heard her son storm off. This wasn't the first time he had seen a bruise on his mother, but it was getting closer and closer to being the last time he would. On the surface, life at the Breck family looked normal, but that was because Bruce Sr. tried to seem like a good father, but finally his anger would come out.

At the dinner table, Amaris was sitting between Julia and Brant like she usually did. She and Brant were poking and slapping each other under the table. They tried to act as if nothing was happening. Brant knew that his father hated that sort of thing at the table, but he would do almost anything to help Amaris out of her thick emotional shell. He tickled her ribs, and she laughed.

Bruce had seen enough. "Stop it!", he bellowed and threw down his fork. "You little brat get up and go!" Amaris shrank within herself as Bruce Sr. glared at her. "I SAID GO!"

Amaris burst into tears and ran. Julia wanted to follow, but she knew better. She sat in silence, so did Marlene and Cooper, but not Brant. He jumped up. "Leave her alone! You can bully us, but leave her out of it!"

The sound of Bruce's smack filled the room. Brant's head whipped, and he knew at once that he was bleeding. He wiped the blood with the back of his hand and stood up straight. "Feel better now Dad?", the 17 year old asked. "Go ahead and hit me again. That way you won't have to hit Mom next time." Marlene looked at her son and then her husband. Bruce was still livid, but to spite his father, Brant sat back down, took up his fork and continued eating.

Amaris cried for a long time that night, but visits by Julia and Brant were able to calm her down. She settled into a fitful sleep. It was a nightly thing for Amaris to have nightmares. Some were mild, and she was able to pull herself from them. All she had to do was think about something good. Living with the Breck's had given her at least some things that she could use to pull herself from despair, but on this night the nightmare was vengeful. It exacted its revenge on her for thinking that she was stronger than it. She couldn't escape it. Inside her mind she ran and ran, but the maze of her torment had no exits. She thrashed in her bed, throwing her covers and pillows to the floor. Inside her mind, she tried to get away. In life she crawled from her bed. This wasn't the first time Amaris' nightmares had caused her to leave the bed, but this time it was worse. It was getting violent inside Amaris' head and inside the bedroom. She knocked over things and hit against the wall with great force. Inside her dream, Amaris came to a tree. It was a tall strong oak, and it was the only thing alive inside her head. It stood strong against anything the darkness could throw at it. She ran to the tree. She stood at its massive base and started to climb. The beasts of the darkness gathered and snarled at her, nipping at her, but unable to reach her. They could not climb the tree. Their claws could not sink into the trunk. They stacked one atop the other trying to reach her. She climbed higher. They stacked higher. When she thought that there was no more to climb, the tree grew taller, but the beasts stacked higher after her.

The noise of this nightmare awoke everybody. Lights came on and doors opened. Marlene was the first to make it to Amaris' room. She was used to comforting her niece. She rushed inside. Until her dying day, Marlene wouldn't be able to explain what she had seen that night. Amaris' face was a image of terror and fear. Sweat poured down her face and body. Her limbs trembled as she crawled and cried. She had indeed crawled from the bed like she had done so many times before, but this time she was on her hands and knees while perpendicular to the floor.

Marlene flinched and jumped when Amaris moved further up the wall, crawling like a human could not crawl. "Amaris!", she screamed at the top of her lungs, but it wasn't enough. The girl was still locked in the nightmare. Marlene rushed over to her niece despite the fear of seeing a person crawling on the wall like an insect. She could hear her sons and daughter coming. She hurried and took the girl by the waist. As soon as her aunt's hands touched her, Amaris woke up. When she opened her eyes, she was looking at the world sideways. Marlene's face was only inches from hers. Marlene pulled, but Amaris had already started to come off the wall. They landed on the floor.

"What! What happened?", Amaris cried as she looked at her hands. She saw a substance on them that hadn't been there when she went to sleep. The substance didn't smell like anything. It also dried while she was looking at it.

"Yes", Amaris replied. "But only part of it." She took another sip of tea before she gained the courage to ask. "How, sir, did you know about my abilities?"

This was the first time the old man smiled. "There are ways. Very ancient ways, but if one is tuned to the powers, they can be spotted.

The climbing on the wall had only added another dimension to Amaris' confusion and dismay. There was no explanation for what Amaris had done. It scared her aunt Marlene, but it scared Amaris so much that she tried to wipe it from her mind. Marlene had taken Amaris to a variety of doctors to check her, never telling them what they were supposed to be looking for, and none of them found anything wrong with her. Marlene finally took Amaris to a priest to see if she was possessed. He said that she was emotionally hurt, but that he didn't think that she was possessed. Amaris knew that it wasn't that simple.

The other kids didn't know about her climbing on the wall, and neither did Bruce Sr., but Marlene was starting to worry about Amaris. The midst of all of this, Bruce Senior was getting worse. He yelled at the kids and at his wife on a regular basis. Amaris was surprised with herself through all of it. She no longer flinched when Bruce lost his temper. She started to gain something that she thought had died along with her family, courage. She didn't run away when Bruce Sr. yelled at her, and once she even took up for Julia when her father had threatened to hit her. It all came to head.

Marlene and Bruce were having another argument over the insurance money, but this time all the kids were home. "Its less than $50,000!", Marlene yelled. "Once everything was paid, that's all she has left."

"Are you fucking serious, Marlene! That would pay off our house and then some. You want to keep it for yourself! That's why you're trying to push me out. You don't need my measly little paycheck anymore. You can keep your precious niece! I'm gonna leave all of you to rot together!" Spit flew from his lips as he screamed, but Marlene held her ground.

"You heard me! Leave and take all of your bullshit with you. I don't need it, and neither do the children."

Brant, Cooper, Julia, and even Amaris smiled as Marlene stood up to Bruce Sr. It was about time. They were all on the stairs looking around the corner, until Bruce Sr. pulled his hand back. Marlene squinted and braced herself for the smack. "Not again!", Brant breathed. "No, you don't!"

The seventeen year old ran from the stairs. Bruce Sr. turned in time to see his son rushing towards him. Brant drew his fist back and punch at his father. It was a strong punch, but off target. Bruce grinned a little. He knew that this was going to happen sooner or later. He pushed his son to the side, and knocked him down.

"Stop it!", Marlene yelled, but neither of them listened. Brant jumped to his feet and threw a wild punch. It grazed his father on the chin, and then they came at each other. Their chests hit together and they wrestled for control. Brant went down with his father on top. The bigger man raised his hand and punched his son across the cheek. He raised his hand again, but Cooper rushed in.

He took his father by the shoulders. "Its enough, Dad. Get off!" No one was listening. When Bruce Senior paused, Brant punched him in the jaw. It was a weak blow, but it set Senior's teeth on edge. He shrugged off his youngest son, and beat on his middle one. Brant was still angry enough to try and hurt his father, but Senior's blows landed without mercy. Julia ran from the stairs to protect her brother. She took her father by the shoulders and begged for him to stop, but one jerk of his arm sent his daughter sailing into a chair and then to the floor.

Amaris had been terrified, but it all went away. The fear, the anger, the indecision, all left. It was replaced with a coldness that went from her head to her feet. The world went from vivid colors to gray. She left the stairs and over to the fight. Cooper and Julia had attacked Senior from the back and failed, so Amaris attacked him from the front. She stood next to him, and he paid her no attention until she took a step back and kicked him in the bridge of his nose as hard as she could. Bruce lost his balance and fell back enough for Brant to pull himself free. He attacked his stunned father, and no one was spared. Brant fell atop Amaris after a hard blow from his father, and Cooper hit his father in the stomach in an attempt to protect his mother. Chairs and tables and dishes were destroyed. Blood dripped from cuts on their faces and hands and arms. Years of anger and frustration exploded and vented from all sides. Cooper tripped their father and jumped on his back while Brant fought him from the front. They fought their way through the living room, and with a burst of strength, Bruce Senior launched Cooper, his youngest son through the front door. Glass and wood littered the stoop and the yard. The fighting didn't stop when Cooper attempted to sit up and found a large shard of glass sticking from his arm. Amaris and Julia ran around the fighting to get to Cooper, while Marlene called the police. The blue lights didn't break it up. The police had to separate the fighters, even Cooper tried to get at his father from the back of the ambulance that had showed up.

Things were a complete mess the rest of the night, but with all the problems going on around her, Amaris couldn't think of her own, and she slept that night and didn't have a single nightmare. There was uneasiness in the house after Bruce Sr. left, but it settled a bit when Bruce Junior came home to live for a time. Amaris, despite her fears, was starting to feel completely attached to her cousins and the family. She stood next to Marlene while she went downtown to file for divorce from her husband of 21 years. Money became really tight, and the heat was turned off. Amaris told her aunt that she felt okay if some of the insurance money was used to help support everybody while she waited on her permanent teaching job. Marlene had reluctantly agreed. She called the insurance company and they mailed a check that same day. It would get to ND by Thursday, but on Tuesday a group of people came to the door. They were from Child and Family Services. They said that they were doing a surprise audit for the welfare of Amaris, but everyone knew better. Bruce Senior had tipped them off that the house had no gas heat. It only took an hour for them to remove Amaris from the house. She kicked them and bit them and cried, but they put her in the back of a sedan and drove her to a house across town. They gave Marlene one day to get the heat turned back on. The check came, and she rushed to cash it so that she could make it to the gas company, but when she got to the bank, she found out that a suit from Bruce Senior had frozen all the accounts since his name was on all of them. She tried to open a new account, but to no avail. At the end of the next day, without warning, the Children and Family folks put Amaris on a plane and sent her back to Pittsburgh.

They tried to explain to the girl that she was a ward of the courts in Pennsylvania until her aunt got custody, but since her home had been deemed unfit, her aunt would be forced to petition to get Amaris back. While she waited, they placed her with a family in the Hazelwood part of town, not terribly far from where she had grown up in Greenwood. There were other kids there, and the people were nice, but Amaris didn't want to be there. She talked to the Breck family every day, and she wanted to be with them. They were the only family that Amaris had left, and these government people had taken them away from her. Marlene promised to get Amaris back as soon as she could, but it never happened. She was already low on money, and when the state took Amaris away she lost access to the insurance money that she was in charge of. It went to a state appointee. While Marlene was fighting to get Amaris back, Bruce Senior launched a serious attack to get custody of their own children. Unable to work in both directions, Marlene was forced to make a choice. She made the choice in her heart, but she didn't have the heart to tell Amaris. One day though, Marlene dropped her request for Amaris' return. Days at the home became weeks and weeks turned into a month. Amaris lost hope and even Julia stopped calling. She was completely alone in the city that she had always thought of as home, without a single soul to care for her. The gaping hole in her soul had started to be filled with the good that Julia, Brant, Cooper, and Marlene had done, but it was gone, and once again Amaris was empty. All her emotions turned inward, crushing her with their weight.

Once Marlene dropped her request, Amaris was shuttled between homes. Sometimes she would stay a few days and other times a week or two, but never long enough for her to get attached to anyone at all. She was scared of many of the children at these homes. She became quiet around them, and then quiet in general. She didn't fit into any group, so there was nothing for her to say. At school she tried to be invisible. Only her pain and grief let her know that she was alive and not dead. She could wake up and feel the fresh heartache of her aunt's betrayal and then the older more familiar heartache of her family's murder. Dark thoughts went through Amaris' mind from time to time, and she tried to kill herself. The taste of the concoctions of pills that she had pilfered and swallowed had made her vomit them out before they'd had an effect. The head of the home she was in found out. Instead of getting Amaris help, she just covered the suicide attempt up, and had Amaris moved to another home. She was just one more troubled girl in a system full of them.

The kids at this new home were much the same as the kids at the last ones. They had the same problems, the same backgrounds, only the names were different. Amaris didn't care to learn anybody's name. She just wanted to be left alone, because anything she started to care for was taken away.

There was an arts and crafts room at this home. Amaris had refused to step foot inside it. She was afraid that it would remind her of her family, and fortunately for her, it did. When she was forced to go there for a mandatory craft period, Amaris had felt a warmth inside her that had been gone for a very long time. In her state of mind, she couldn't feel it fully. Everything was filtered through the wall she had tried to build around herself, but when she had touched that formless lump of clay a small light had switched on, and she smiled. It was a true smile, not one to hide tears that she wanted to shed, not one to get someone off her back, but the smile of a person who felt alive. For so long Amaris had wished that she could go back to the way she was. For a moment, she wasn't the horrible scab of a person that she had become. She was the little girl who used to be able to laugh just to hear the sound and feel the joy of it.

She didn't laugh or joke as she began forming the clay. She worked at it, trying to make her hands do what her spirit wanted them to do. This moment wasn't all pure. The grief and hopelessness had a hold on her, and it wanted her to manifest its ugliness, but Amaris fought the battle while her hands worked. She fought it from the start to the finish. She couldn't let her mind coast. She had to remember the good and remember the warm and remember when she had been whole.

She took the small tools from the box on her table and expertly carved the details into her rough shaping of clay. Finally when it was done, Amaris took her hands off of it. She didn't trust herself not to destroy it. The angel soared towards the sky with only a thin pedestal and arm holding it to the ground. Amaris had to support the clay to keep it from bending under its own weight, but she didn't want to. She had rebelled against that empty festering pit of guilt and pain inside her soul to produce this delicately beautiful piece. She blinked back tears because she didn't think anything this beautiful could have come from her. She knew then that there was at least a speck of beauty left inside her. There had to be. That gave her hope, and a speck of hope was a shot to the heart of the darkness. It had to retreat. The pain and torment was never far from Amaris' mind, but she had a balance to it. She could live through the horrible nightmares if every day she could have a chance to make herself smile.

Amaris set her angel in the kiln without showing it to the instructor first, and had gotten in trouble. She tried to explain that it had to be fired quickly. He had been ready to scold her until he had looked into the kiln. The angel lay on its side so it could keep its shape, but even in that position it tried to fly. From then on, Amaris had full freedom to use the arts room whenever she wanted until bed time. Amaris made art for herself. She sculpted pieces from clay or wood to spice up her bedroom. The other girls didn't mind the art in there. It helped fill the space and make it seem like the home that none of them had. Then they started asking her to make some for them.

After a while, she started taking requests from kids that she liked. She spent hours in the art room making all sorts of things. She sculpted Michael Jordan dribbling for a kid. She sculpted a horse for one girl, and a bust for another. She made everything except pistols or knives even though she got several requests. The last thing Amaris wanted to do was make something that represented things that hurt people. Just as Amaris was finding her niche, some kids were taking a disliking to her.

There was a playground behind the large expansive foster house where Amaris liked to sit. She had gone out there to deliver a purple painted apple to a younger girl named Hillary, and she'd decided to stay. It was a Saturday, so she didn't have to worry about school. She planned on sitting under the elm until lunch time. While she rested against the tree, a group of kids came from in the house already in the middle of a conversation that Amaris took note of immediately.

"I knew her brother", an older kid named Everett told a group. "He was a couple grades ahead of me." The kids looked over their shoulders at Amaris who lounged and tried not to pay attention, but she knew that she couldn't close her ears.

The kids around laughed. Amaris had been trying to take the emotional high road, but inside she felt like she had exploded. She expected to feel pain or hurt, but instead she felt anger. It was the purest most precisely clear emotion she had ever experienced, more powerful than even fear, because she stood up and went up to the 15 year old.

"Stop lying!", Amaris screamed. Her hands were balled into fists; her face was red, and her usually icy eyes were hot with the passion of the moment.

"I'm not lying", Everett began. "Your brother was a fairy, and I guess your whole family was. That's why somebody killed them."

Amaris' fist shot up from her side and hit Everett in the jaw. An eleven year old girl shouldn't have been able to hit that hard, but it hurt. Everett wasn't big for his age, but he was huge compared to Amaris. He put his arms up to block her next punch, but Amaris' fist found an opening. Her left hit him on his jaw. She had to jump up to reach, but she was landing punches. The smacks of her anger fueled blows made all the heads on the playground turn around, but no one moved to help him. It just wasn't done.

He took a step back and Amaris punched Everett again. This one landed directly on his nose. A little blood dropped onto his lip. He put his arms out front and grabbed Amaris by the shoulder. He pushed her as hard as he could. She stumbled back, but she didn't fall. She'd expected to fall. She was afraid of hitting the ground and giving Everett a chance to hit her back, but she didn't. She planted her right foot and lunged at him. She punched and punched, but as hard as she hit him, it wasn't hard enough. The shock of Amaris' attack wore off. He loaded his fist and punched Amaris in the side of the head. She went to her right, reeling from the pain, but her anger was stronger. She attacked again, and ran into Everett's fist. He pushed her down, and kicked her in the ribs.

"Little bitch!", he yelled down at her. "You should have left me alone, but now I'm gonna tell the world what a fucking queer your brother was. I'm glad they killed your fucking family, you little fucking bitch!" Everett was hitting Amaris as hard as he could while he yelled at her. She screamed and clawed and even when her vision began to fade she kept fighting back. All the rage and anger came out, but it wasn't enough. Just like at the attack on her family, she wasn't strong enough or good enough. Everett beat all the rage out of her. He punched her until her anger turned into something else entirely. The dark abyss that Amaris fought so hard against took over. It clothed her in its own protection. While Everett's punches crashed into Amaris' body, she smiled because she couldn't feel any of it. Her hot boiling anger had become cold and bottomless. It ate up all her other emotions and replaced them with a need and purpose. Her confusion was gone. She had a purpose, a dark one.

Finally when the older boy guessed that she'd had enough to learn her lesson, he let her up. He was breathing heavily. He backed up in triumph. "I guess you're a fucking faggot too!" The kids around him laughed, and no one moved to help Amaris to her feet. Her face was beginning to swell and her body ached, but she got up herself. Her left eye was swelling shut. She looked around the playground at the stunned faces. They looked back at her, but no one came near her. It wasn't done. She wasn't part of any interconnected group, so she was on her own.

She felt a kick on her butt. "Get the hell out of my way!", Everett yelled, laughed and walked past her. "And don't fucking come back!"

Amaris stormed into the house. Her clothes were dirty and her face was bloody, but Amaris was thinking clearly. She pushed past a couple of kids and went to the art room. She found what she was looking for and started back for the playground. She pushed open the door and stepped out. Some people noticed her right away, and they saw that something was wrong. She should have been scared, but instead she moved confidently and ominously. Something bad was about to happen.

Everett turned towards the door and made a show of sighing. Amaris was coming towards him. He turned to face her. "Didn't I tell you to-" He was cut off when he felt a blow to the pit of his stomach. He doubled over and tears welled in his eyes. His vision was clear enough to see Amaris' emotionless face as she took a step back and extended her arm. Then with a snarl of effort she whipped her arm forward. As her arm swung, the handle of a hook emerged from inside her sleeve. She let it come out almost all the way. At the last instant she closed her fingers stopping it from flying out. Then CRACK! It hit against the side of Everett's face. He stumbled and yelped in pain. Amaris wound up and hit him again. Every muscle in her body exerted to its maximum and again there was a loud CRACK! Everett cried out and went down. Amaris stepped to him and brought the wooden pole down hard. She hit him in the head and neck and ribs and back, anywhere she could. He curled into a fetal position, but not before she had beaten his face bloody. Her body was on automatic as she swung over and over again with the same determination and strength. The beast inside had taken over and the beast didn't get tired.

Sweat flew from her skin and saliva from her mouth as she beat Everett over and over again. Then there was another sound as the thick wooden handle broke off in her hand after a blow to Everett's ribs. The broken end was jagged, rough, and shaped like a spear.

'Kill him!', the loud booming voice from the abyss screamed. 'Make him pay!', but the soft voice, the powerful voice said one word. It cut through the sound and fury with its power and Amaris heard it.

She threw the stick away. It bounced against the concrete and onto the grass. It made the only sound on the playground. No one said a word or moved a muscle. Everyone just looked at Amaris. Her chest heaved as she stood over the defeated teenager. She looked down at him then turned for the house. She walked in with the same strides that had brought her out. No one dared go near her.

The police came after a short time and put Amaris in handcuffs. They took her down to Juvenile Hall, but were forced to call paramedics after a lawyer saw the girl's condition. One side of her face was completely swollen and blood was leaking from several cuts. None of her injuries were serious, and she found herself sitting in a room with her social worker and a police officer.

"Miss Johanssen, you know we had to take that young man to the hospital. You gave him a serious concussion among other injuries", a plain clothes police officer informed her.

They saw Amaris tense up a little. "He talked bad about my family, and he wouldn't take it back."

"Its more than teasing. Teasing I can handle. I'm used to it, but nobody can say anything about my family where I can hear it." Amaris knew that she should have been afraid looking at the cop, but she wasn't. She could only be afraid if she had something to lose, and Amaris had nothing.

The cop and social worker looked at each other. "Are you sorry for what you did, Amaris?", the social worker asked.

She was quiet for a moment before she shook her head. "No. He deserved it. I bet he's sorrier than I'll ever be."

"You gonna fight everybody who says something about your family? I know guys who worked the case. It was horrible, but you can't act like this. What if I was to say something bad about your family, would you fight me too."

"Because I'm too young and too small. I couldn't do anything to you, and you know it. Everett thought I couldn't do anything to him either. He's bigger and older and stronger than me, but he's in the hospital, and I'm not. I don't dislike you, Officer, but if you said something bad about my family and meant it even as a joke, I'd remember. And one day, I won't be so small."

Amaris shook her head. "No I don't. Everett could have spit on me, punched me, or called me every name in the world, and I wouldn't have gotten mad. I stopped feeling sorry for myself a while ago. Like right now, I'm not mad at all, and I was in handcuffs for a long time for no reason."

The cop and social worker looked at each other again. "Amaris, would you do something like this again?"

After a long discussion, they were prepared to send her back to the foster house, but the social worker for Everett objected strongly, and everyone agreed not to send Amaris back. They gathered her things and sent her to a group home for girls. This facility was home to some of the worst girls in the county. It was jail in everything but name. They took away her privilege to sculpt. That hurt her deeply, but there was at least one activity to take its place. It had been over a year since Amaris had stepped into a gymnastics facility, but as part of a pilot program to find gifted athletes within the system, they had created a sports program for the kids that included gymnastics. Amaris joined after hearing about it. While she was rusty at first, soon her time in the gym was the only enjoyment of her life.

As the days and months and finally a year rolled on, Amaris began to feel useless, and that made her angry and sad. If everyone had been born for a purpose then Amaris figured then her only purpose in life was to get dumped on, but she deserved better than that. She wasn't a horrible person like some of the older kids at this group home. She just needed a purpose and someone to support her in it.

Every week Amaris was competing against other gymnastics clubs, legit clubs that had good reputations, and she was winning, but that didn't make up for having to come back to that awful facility every night. They didn't even let her keep her trophies. They allowed her a small party when she was certified as a USAG level 10 gymnast, but that joy wore off too. One day ran into the next day which ran into the next. The other girls picked on her. Sometimes she would pick back, and sometimes she wouldn't. There was no point Fights happened often, and Amaris wasn't immune. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered to her, until one day her situation changed.

A man came into the facility wearing an expertly tailored suit and overcoat. Amaris could see him through the wired glass, but she didn't pay him any attention at first. Somebody like that certainly wasn't there for her. Their eyes met once, while he talked to a woman at the counter, but it was only for moment. He went back to talking, and Amaris kept observing him. He had a steady and stately manner about him. He never became animated or outwardly frustrated as he talked to various staff members of the facility. He was there the entire day. That afternoon the door opened and the man walked into the room. He smelled of the most expensive cologne. There were about fifteen girls in this room, but he walked up to the one with the short dark hair and light blues eyes.

"Hello, Amaris", he began. "My name is Dimitri Aleksandrovich Alexeyev." He held out his hand. "Gather your things. You're coming with me." He lead her by the hand to the dormitory area. Everything Amaris owned fit into one bag. She walked out in a daze with the bag over her shoulder. When she stepped outside into the cold autumn air, she was greeted by a long white limousine. The driver took her bag from her shoulder and opened the door. Dimitri motioned for her to enter. She got in and slid across the massive leather seat to allow him inside. Dimitri got in and the driver closed the door. The limo took Amaris away from that facility and on to a new life.

Caeda: The Art of the Kill	Caeda: The Assassin's Call
Caeda: Death's Shadow	Caeda: Into the Shadows
Caeda: Rules to Kill By	Caeda: The Dark Path
Caeda: Mountain Rescue	Caeda: Enter the Black Gate
Caeda: An Assassin's Holiday
Caeda: The Death Blow