Subject:  Mirage - 15 |
Author:
Asrai
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Date Posted: 13:40:50 04/09/01 Mon
Mirage - 15
Later Elena sometimes tried to remember the day her past was destroyed, but all she came up with was a fuzzy blur. Most of her memories were blocked in an attempt to save her sanity, but not her feelings. She might not remember Madeline's face as she showed her Michael's file, or Nikita as she tried to comfort her, nor the horrible night that followed. But she felt her shock, anguish and utter desperation every time she thought back to her life then as if it had been yesterday. And sometimes, in the lonely nights she couldn't find peace in sleep, she'd lie awake for hours and stare in the darkness around her. After that, the nightmares always came, every one different. One was the worst, a blurry, forgotten memory, pushed aside: her aiming a gun at Michael and threatening to kill him.
The main hall was deserted; a mission had just been completed and most of the operatives had taken a break. The perch above her was black and seemed empty, as always. It was always dark, at least every time she'd seen it. And he'd been there the whole time, watching her, observing her...
Elena quietly looked around, checking her surroundings without really seeing them. If someone had been near her, he'd seen a pretty woman around thirty, her dark hair in sharp contrast to her ghostly pale face; her posture was stiff as she stood there, looking at the perch above her with huge, almost black eyes. And if this someone had come nearer he could have seen that those eyes seemed lifeless and there were tears in them.
How long she just stood there, she didn't know: time seemed to have stopped; it could have been seconds, some minutes, even hours. The world outside of Elena had ceased to exist, had faded into darkness and chaos. All she could do was to feel- feel her emotions, trying to grasp her reality, trying to hold together what was left of it. Her reality... deep down in her mind, she remembered a quote, something about a knife, someone's definition of reality.
Elena wanted to cry; she had the small hope that she'd cry and fall asleep and wake up in the morning, next to Michael, only to see that this nightmare of the past four years never happened... but stop.
Michael... he'd betrayed her, too. He'd never been her husband, he'd never loved her, her or Adam. Adam. Her son.
Madeline's words kept coming to her, words she hadn't wanted to hear, had tried to block them out... yet they came and she could recall them clearly: "Section needed Vacek by all means necessary.. a blood cover seemed appropriate. Appropriate. Adam, her only son, betrayed before he'd been born.
A single tear rolled down Elena's cheek. She absently wiped it away, now focussing on her goal: Adam had died because of Michael; her whole life had been destroyed by him. It seemed only fair that Michael should suffer, too.
Elena reached for her purse, opening it. She felt the cold metal in her hand, and, her decision made, she went in direction of the stairs.
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