Chapter 609: Scrapbook XI
--Dedication on the
To the 490 people who lost their lives, and who were gravely injured as victims of the November 17 attack, and to those that risked their lives trying to save them.
Excerpt of the victim
and survivor list, November 17 attack, CDC Records
Henman, James 45--survived
Henman, Mallory 43--survived
Heit, Lucy 17--deceased
Hej, Tehrah 17--deceased
Hej, Mai 16--deceased
Hinote, Anna-Cecile 16—survived
Hinote, Daniel C. 43—survived
Hinote, Marie 36—deceased
Hinote, Alexander L 10—survived
Hinote, Jana 7—deceased
Hirohito, Eunice 16—deceased
Hirohito, Yoshi 17—deceased
Hymen, David 67—survived
Ichiro, Midori 16—deceased
Ishii, Yuka 16—survived….
Excerpt from “Tangled
Infinity”—Novel Published 2045—Matthew Lancaster—Harper Dodgson,
Rideau and Ro Press
…when the realization hit her, pouring into her
consciousness as deep and as red as the wine he poured into her glass. Melanie
could not conceal her surprise, she gasped, and she dropped the glass. It
bounced upon the lush white carpet, staining it crimson, like spilled blood.
“Oh!”
“Don’t worry about it, we can
have the carpet cleaned,” he said, but with no urgency, and no heat.
Melanie swallowed hard, sweat and fear boiling under her skin. Get a grip Melanie! He hasn’t seen your worry! She swallowed again. “I’m so sorry! Really I am!” She stood up, and her hands shook, and she stumbled, knocking the bottle to the carpet where it spurted its contents onto the floor. “Damn!” Her urge was to fall to her knees and dab at the stain, but instead she stumbled back, holding her clenched fists to her mouth, watching as the bottle continued to glug and spurt onto the carpet, causing the red stain to grow.
Mr. King did not call anyone, nor did he lean over to clean the mess. “I told you; don’t worry about it, Melanie.”
She looked into his eyes, dark blue, cold, with a capability for cruelty. The letters, the diaries, the words, spoke so clearly, so obviously, that Melanie could not believe Patrick couldn’t read her mind as she stood. “I’m sorry!”
You idiot! Run now, tell David before you make another move! Do it!
Mr. King smiled, small, smug, dimpled like a boy’s, but cutting like a serpant’s. She’d read these words so many times over…so many times…the mystery…it had always been in front of her. Melanie’s lips trembled and instead of running from the room, she knelt down, pulling a napkin off the table and dabbing at the stain, watching the red wine absorb and flower on the white cloth. If I run, he’ll know. Stay calm!
Mr. King joined her on the carpet, his cologne a musky scent of wood and spices and it wafted up her nostrils, tugging her to Cecilia’s memories, fused to her own consciousness through words alone. He smelled of the woods, he smelled of cinnamon branch and bergamot as we lay together… Her eyes half-closed and she looked at his large hands, his pink fingers, the wedding ring glinting. “You don’t need to clean it up, Melanie. It isn’t important. We were planning on new carpeting anyway.”
Melanie rolled the napkin in her hand, it moistened her palm and she dropped it when he touched her cheek gently. “You’re not used to this kind of stress, are you Melanie, a simple little librarian like you.”
“What?” Her words, however, only came out as a whisper, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.
“Pretty young women like you should learn to stay within your own element. I’ve never understood why you girls insist upon wandering down dark corners, and into scary alleys. Girls get hurt that way.”
“Mr. King,” She whispered, and her lips trembled. “I don’t understand!”
“Little Librarian, you are a terrible liar,” and his fingers pressed into her cheek now, heated and dangerous. “What would you know about how to deceive bad men and outwit higher powers?”
“Mr. King I really…” Melanie pulled back, sweating all over, trembling, and she stood up. “I really don’t know…”
Patrick remained on one knee, smiling, seeming so sweet. “You’ve found and read the letters, and the diaries I assume?”
Melanie swallowed. “No! I don’t know…”
“The scrapbooks, did you find those as well? They were supposed to be burned!”
Her mouth fell open. It felt as if she were drowning, the air heavy and thick, like syrup through her mouth, her nostrils and clogging in her lungs. “I…I…I have to go!” She turned, she ran. Her only option at this point was to escape.
Mr. King, however, was quick to catch her, his powerful grip pinning her left arm to her back, causing her to yelp in pain. Heated air cut into her ear as he spoke into it. “What do you know? Tell me right now, girl, or I will twist your arm right off!”
“I don’t!” Melanie cried, only to be doused into mind shattering pain as he began to twist her arm. “No!”
“Tell me!”
“She worked for you? Didn’t she?” Melanie gasped. The words, inexplicably caused a brief reprieve. He let loose his grip on her arm, let her go. She turned around, trembling, tears running down her face. How stupid she felt, and weak, so unlike the heroine she’d always imagined herself to be. “She took care of your children! You hired her, and you took advantage of her!”
Mr. King’s brow furrowed and he narrowed his eyes. “Is that all?”
“You raped her!” Melanie pointed to him, “You had complete control over her, you kept her imprisoned, her body, her mind.” She stepped back, “You forced her to withdraw into herself, you…”
Patrick lifted his eyebrows. “In essence I created her into what she is today?”
Melanie nodded. She reached over and rubbed her assaulted arm, amazed at how deeply injured it felt.
“If you are saying I forced Cecilia to become, what she is, then where is the crime? She’s done the world so much good.”
“Father Mallory,” Melanie whispered.
“Pardon?”
Slowly, Melanie looked up, “He gave me the rest of the letters, and the diaries.”
Patrick began to walk towards her, on his toes almost, as one would approach a skittish cat. “I don’t know who that is…”
“You do!” Melanie exclaimed. “I saw you! I saw both of you, at the…at the church. You were…oh my God. You’ve been distracting me! Holding my interest here so that…”
“Careful…” Mr. King growled, “Careful!”
“You’re going to have her assassinated!” Melanie gasped. The cold realization slammed her in the chest, freezing her veins solid. “Your wife! She’s ill! I heard you talking to….”
Shooting Script
Excerpt—“Tangled Infinity”—Motion Picture—
Int. Day. King’s Livingroom—King has both of Melanie’s wrists with one of his hands. Their hands are pressed into
the stain on the carpet. Melanie continues
to cry out but she is overpowered. King lets
go of her hands, and she remains passive as he removes his belt.
King: Little Librarians, little girls, your world is books and movies, and computers. It causes you to snoop where you should not. This is your fault. You should never have become so curious.
Melanie: (Frightened) What are you doing? Please don’t do this! Don’t! You don’t need to!
King: (slides his belt against her cheek): Do you want to know what it takes to make a saint? Hm? Do you have the strength that she did, night after night? Remarkable girl really, so resilient. There were many times when I thought she would die, would cry out, would attack me. She certainly lasted longer than any other girl I’ve known. When she disappeared I had a feeling I might see her again…I just didn’t know…exactly…when or where. I certainly didn’t expect her return as a SAINT! It’s a pleasant surprise really.
King wraps the belt around Melanie’s neck and tightens it.
Melanie: Noooo!
Melanie’s voice is cut off as he begins to strangle her. She gulps. She struggles. Camera focuses on Melanie’s face as it puffs and becomes red. Camera angle focuses on King’s profile. King licks his lips. He abruptly loosens the belt and lets her cough.
King: You are not one iota of the woman Cecilia was. You think you can interfere in affairs of great men, saints and designs? You know nothing of what is meant to happen here. Things are set into motion that you have no part in, and which you cannot stop. You should have understood this before.
Camera focuses on King’s hand pushing Melanie’s skirt up and pushing her legs apart. Melanie remains insensible as King begins to unzip his fly.
King: There is only one thing a girl like you is for…
Melanie: No!
Camera focuses on the back of King’s head as a candlestick strikes it. King falls unconscious. Camera focuses on David, who has rescued her. He pulls King’s body off her and helps her to her feet. Melanie continues to cough.
Melanie: David! How did you know?
David: I didn’t. I got your message and I…
Melanie: David we
don’t have time! King was just a decoy! He’s been leading us in the wrong
direction all of this time. He knew Cecilia, David, he’s been lying. He’s a
member of the Chainer’s Order. He was never helping
us. There’s no time. They’re going to assassinate her. We have to stop them!
David: Who? Who is going to assassinate her?
Melanie: Father Mallory!
Children of NHL Hall
of Famer Blast Tangled Infinity author
The children of NHL Hall of Fame goaltender Patrick Roy have opened to the press with their feelings for author Matthew Lancaster’s hit novel, Tangled Infinity, calling it “reckless and insensitive” in its portrayal of a character they say represents their father. And they are demanding an apology from Lancaster whom they say, in recent talk shows, has hinted that the novel is not a work of fiction.
“It’s disgusting how thinly veiled his references to our father are,” Frederick Roy said. “He thinks he can change the name of the character, and then just accuse our father of being a rapist and fanatic? I can honestly say that my father never once hired a nanny for us growing up, and he did not keep any girls as sex slaves! It’s ridiculous! We’re getting hundreds of letters and emails a day about this matter! Reporters are at us endlessly to talk about what it was like to know Saint Cecilia before her fame. And that’s just ridiculous! We never knew Saint Cecilia or even heard of her before the day everyone else discovered her!”
Pauline Danceny,
82, has brought a defamation lawsuit against acclaimed author, Matthew
Lancaster, for what she claims is an erroneous and grossly inaccurate portrayal
of her late daughter. In his novel, Tangled
Infinity,
“My daughter would never have allowed herself to be treated that way. She was a wonderfully studious and pure girl. She would be appalled at the way her good name has been dragged through the mud! What this man has done is take a grain of fact from a slip of newspaper, or a scrap from a memory book, and distort it into a painful mockery of the truth. To suggest she spent night after night craving and lusting after strange men is simply ludicrous, I don’t think….”
Links to other sites on the Web