#crystal lancaster

Kirtus

Kirtus put his phone down and picked up his pipe. His mind swam as he had bolted from the abandoned house. He had overheard her conversation--there was no way she was in two places at the same time. But the photos were there, not only from the church but when she had entered the church before putting on the veil. It was her. Her hair, her nose, her lips-- but her eyes were wrong. Kirtus leaned back and blew a cloud into the air. The Crystal at the church had calculating eyes, they were too...aware. The Crystal he thought he knew had a wide open face, always drinking things in, always willing to think the best of people. Her transcript from high school had been leaked. She wasn't stupid, not when it came to school. But drinking spiked water, recommending a letter to the damn landlord of a clearly abandoned shack downtown, running off with a guy she barely knew...she wasn't dumb, but clearly she had been sheltered her entire life. 

"And I left her alone." He muttered to himself. He replayed the morning, trying to connect the dots to figure out how big of an asshole he was, and to figure out who Crystal Lancaster is. 

It had started with the dream, the same nightmare he had struggled through on and off over the past few years. He was rebuilding a house after Hurricane Katrina. They had given him a gun to ward off the feral dogs roaming the streets, most of them frenzied with hunger and rabies. It wasn't my fault. He thought. The courts had agreed. He was alone, and something had crashed in the adjacent room. He took his gun, yelled out to let anyone human identify themselves. No one replied, and he moved forward. He had seen two others go down after being mauled by these beasts, and he wasn't going to let it happen to him. It wasn't my fault. No one had told him they were there. Not when he called out to find who it was, not when he had cocked his pistol, not when he had shouted he had a gun. All that greeted him were more boxes crashing, the sound of something crazed scuffling through the room. Kirtus had paused by the doorframe, listened for the next sound, and shot as he turned the corner. 

It wasn't a dog.

It wasn't my fault! 

The kid couldn't have been more than 16 years old. He had been aiming for a pit bull, and got the kid square in the stomach. He bled onto the floor as Kirtus had fished his phone out to call 911. He had sandy brown hair, and brown eyes flecked with hazel around the edges. Even as his other features faded, the eyes were always the same. 

"Why did you shoot me?" He was so young his voice still cracked. 

"I didn't know...I thought  -- it wasn't my…"

The brown sandy hair morphed into wavy black, and grew down to frame deep brown eyes flecked with gold, not hazel. 

Crystal gazed up at him, her hand covering the bleeding wound. "Why did you shoot me?" She whispered. 

Then her phone had gone off. Her hand was on his chest. Half asleep, sirens and gunshots still fresh in his mind, he had attacked. Her eyes were the same as in the dream. Big, confused, pleading. Once he realized he was awake, he had gotten up and raced down the stairs. He beat himself up for a few minutes and was coming to apologize when he realized she was on a phone, talking about being in two places on the same night with someone who worked for her. She had put the phone down, and that's when her eyes changed. She was the face of pure terror, and was hyperventilating. 

Kirtus couldn't have her passing out again,  so he dumped water on her to snap her out of it. 

"I didn't know she'd snap like that." He mumbled as he lit another joint. "It wasn't…" her eyes flashed in his mind's eye again, this time her irises surrounded by the crimson tell of popped blood cells when her body fought for oxygen. When she did pass out again, he had laid her on the mattress and fled. 

"Fuck."

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Tag by: @flashfictionfridayofficial

WIP: Death of a Monarch Butterfly

POV: Crystal

Context: this is towards the very end of the book, the last scene before the epilogue

Crystal looked at Rebekah, waiting for a reaction. She had dumped a lot of information, so maybe it was shock -- but the way Rebekah looked at Alice made it seem like she wasn't surprised. She was sad, sure. But it was the kind of sad people got when they knew something bad was going to happen, and they had just hoped it wouldn't.

"Bekah?" Crystal dropped her hands and stepped back. "Did you know this would happen?"

"Crystal..." Rebekah took a breath and started again. "I need you to be brave for me."

"No!" Crystal stepped further away from both of them. Alice, to her credit, didn't try to placate Crystal. She just stood warily by the entrance. "No, Rebekah. Last time you told me to be brave I --" Crystal gripped her head, trying to get her thoughts together. "Last time you disappeared, didn't you? You left me. Both of my parents were gone and you left me!"

Crystal grabbed a metal pot and threw it against a wall. She was angry and her thoughts kept slipping away from her and maybe if she slammed enough things around the pounding in her head would be cancelled out. "And I couldn't remember!" Crystal sat abruptly on a chair and Alice started in the corner.

"Crystal, don't push it--"

"Why couldn't I remember you? Why does everyone seem to know what's going on and I don't?" Crystal was screaming now, trying to hear herself over the blood pounding in her ears. She ran out of words but the pounding didn't stop so she just screamed nothing instead.

Then the smell of sage and coriander surrounded her. Rebekah was close again, whispering in her ear like -- when was it? Flashes of a knife, cameras clicking, undone curly hair pulling her to safety, and those same whispers. The same words. The pounding got quieter, Crystal's breaths slower. She stopped screaming. Alice leaned against the wall again.

"Think of softer things, my love. Think of--"

"Stop!" Crystal pushed hard against Rebekah's chest and watched as she stumbled back, looking wounded. Crystal pushed her hair back off her face. "Is anything you say not an attempt to control me?" She was whispering now. Rebekah sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. Tears fell down her cheeks, cutting through dust and landing forgotten on the floor.

"She was trying to help. When you try to push through the programming by yourself, without the right commands and without having the slightest idea of what you're doing, your mind fights back." Alice stepped forward. "The constant ringing? Your blood pounding so hard you feel like your brain might just explode? It's lethal, Crystal."

Crystal stared determinately at the floor, feeling like a chastised child. "She had no right--"

"I had no right!" Now it was Alice slamming her fist against the wooden table. "I was the one who tried to hurt you. I hated you. All Bluebird ever did was make my programming weaker. She gave you escape routes. She gave you a way to find her. Without her we would both be dead and I didn't come all this way just to have you change your mind about how you feel."

Alice stood and gave Crystal her space. "I can deprogram you. But it's not an overnight process. You need to trust us -- both of us -- if we need to stop so you don't die in the process then we stop."

Rebekah took one step forward. "We're all pawns in different government projects. Alice has the codename Monarch, because her project--"

"--is the worst."

Rebekah paused, then shrugged her shoulders. "I'm a Bluebird. I'm supposed to be trusted with controlling specified targets and get them to do or remember certain things, even if they may not be true."

Crystal looked at both of them. "We're all pawns?"

Alice drummed her fingers against her arm and answered for Rebekah. "If you had taken the deal at the hospital, you would have been a Mantis."

"So Kirtus..."

"Was supposed to die after you had a baby. And that baby--"

"Melody."

Alice nodded and looked away. "Melody was to be taken to the nursery. She would--" Alice cleared her throat as her voice cracked. "She would be raised by scientists to determine what program she would be most beneficial in."

Crystal looked at Alice, who was now talking towards a wall, her face an emotionless mask. "And if I had twins?" Crystal whispered.

Alice ground her teeth and shook her head. Rebekah stepped closer and placed a tentative hand on Crystal's shoulder. "You would have had to choose which twin to keep at home and which to never see again."

Then they were all quiet. Two women Crystal loved in different ways, neither of which she was supposed to know about. All of them beaten by some secret government agency that took and killed people like puppets.

"Tomorrow I want to start... undoing everything. Deprogramming?" Crystal looked at Alice, who nodded at the wall she was still staring at. "And then I want to take down the people who did this to us."

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WIP: Death of a Monarch Butterfly

Prompt by: @flashfictionfridayofficial

Context: Following the death of Crystal's mother, Crystal is inconsolable. Rebekah convinces her to see a therapist after her usual hypnotism doesn't work. Therapy was not strictly approved by Rebekah's real employers, but she learns a lot about just how strong her employer's hold on Crystal is.

Crystal sat folded into herself on the tattered loveseat. She stared blankly out, in the general direction of the aged therapist to acknowledge her presence.

"Miss Lancaster," the woman started, "I understand how hard everything is right now." She had the low, careful tone a police officer might use to talk someone down from a bridge.

Crystal furrowed her eyebrows slightly, the only clue she was listening. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be anything. She didn't get it. She didn't even particularly like her mother most of the time, but news of her death had sent Crystal into an almost catatonic state.

The therapist came closer, forcing eye contact. "We're going to try something. It's called guided meditation. What I'd like you to do is close your eyes, and listen to the story I'm going to tell. You don't have to do anything other than imagine the story in your head."

Crystal held her gaze for one beat, two. Then gave a slight nod and closed her eyes. The therapist counted to ten, instructing Crystal in her breathing, and having her tense and then relax each muscle to relax it.

"You start in a safe place. It can be anywhere. A room, nature, or a bed..."

Crystal was nowhere. Or, she was somewhere that had no light and no color. Even if she didn't feel anything, she supposed that meant she didn't feel in danger. That had to count as safe.

"Now, you see a soft, small light in your favorite color."

A small ball of light hovered in front of Crystal. Its light purple center reminded her of soft things. She felt a smile start to form.

"Now, the light is going to grow. It's going to surround you, like armor..."

Crystal stepped back. No, something told her, don't trust it. Crystal tried to open her eyes, but the therapist's voice was still going. Her eyes were too heavy, her limbs wouldn't listen to start moving. Outwardly, Crystal remained still, her breathing slow. But here, where it mattered, she panicked. She turned from the light and ran.

The light chased her. She ran through dark, distorted scenery -- none of which felt safe. A thin bridge threatening to crumble, a lightless tunnel ending in a mirror that shattered to pieces as she crashed through it. A dense wood of trees with crows screaming at her from every direction. Through it all, the light followed. She wanted to wake up. She wanted to go home. She would settle for being able to open her eyes, move a pinkie, anything.

"Now that you are filled with light, and love, and safety, I'd like you to wave goodbye to the light."

Crystal chanced a look behind her, the light gone. The room filled with a black nothingness once again.

"I'm going to count backwards now, from ten. Between each number, you will slowly start to become aware of the world again and we will wake up each part of your body again."

When the therapist finished, Crystal tensed every part of her body, to make sure she still could. She glared at the woman with distrust.

"How was your experience?"

Crystal stood. "We're done here."

The therapist frowned. "Well it's good you're talking now, do you want to talk about the--"

Crystal thrust open the door and cut her off. "We're. Done."

Then she left, wanting nothing more than to be comforted by Rebekah and make her promise never to trap her in her own mind like that.

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Tagged by @keen2meecha

(I've been gone for a while so have a snippet instead of a line)

Rebekah held a passive smile on her expression until the doors down the hall slammed, signaling the party was well on it's way. She crossed over to the drink station in her quarters, made sure Crystal's Diet Dr pepper was ready to serve whenever Kimimi wasn't hovering around, and double checked the aromatherapy stations.

She paused then, fingering the fraying threads on a stuffed blue bear she kept hidden for Crystal. Echoes from the day they met rang in her ears.

Rebekah had arrived to the Lancaster Estate with a facade of confidence she hoped would pass as real. Mr. Lancaster had almost thrown her out on the spot. "My daughter needs a firm hand," he had grumbled, "Not a...bosom friend."

Rebekah had been eighteen, only three years older than Crystal and desperate for this assignment to go well. Crystal had torn through six nannies and governesses already.

"Here are my references. You can do me the smallest service of reviewing them."

Handing off the thick paper embossed with her company's logo felt like shackles coming off her shoulders. Mr. Lancaster glanced over the heavily inked script, his eye widening as they hovered over the red pyramid surrounding a single eye. The paper trembled as he lowered it and summoned one of the house servants to see her to Crystal's quarters. Not another word was ever spoken between them.

Left alone in Crystal's room while she was fetched from her ballet lesson, Rebekah had picked up the faded old bear and inspected it. She was running a finger over the messy stitching that held its head to the rest of the body when Crystal's voice pierced through the silence, filled with venom.

"Don't touch that." Crystal, young enough that her fire hadn't yet succumbed to her mother's expectations but old enough to know she should have outgrown such toys by now, crossed the room in three long steps to tear the doll from Rebekah's hands.

She returned the bear to his hiding place between Crystal's bed and nightstand before facing Rebekah with a snarl. "You're a little young to be a prison guard."

Rebekah had smiled serenely, deferentially, like she had been trained. "I should hope so. I've been hired as a lady's maid, not a prison guard."

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WIP: Death of a Monarch Butterfly

POV: Alice

Alice watched Rebekah leave and glanced at her sleeping twin on the bed. She'd leave her there for a while. Alice put her work phone down and picked up Crystal's. The girl had a hundred pictures of herself or her things. She had Notifications from every app she had, many along the lines of "you have 173 notifications from your followers". She had been neglecting the poor sheep.

Alice stopped on an image of Crystal from right before her mother died. She looked defiant and self assured. Had I ever looked like that? Alice chanced a glance at the door, waiting for her handler to decide she couldn't do this on her own after all. No one came.

This strange half freedom of hers was nerve racking. She wasn't truly alone-- the cameras saw to that. She couldn't leave. She could change her clothes, though. The standard issue Delta uniform was not meant for casual encounters or long term use. Why not? She thought, Let's mess with her head even more. Alice found the closest copy of Crystal's outfit and changed into them. Luxury sweatpants were a thing, apparently, but Alice couldn't imagine working out in them without them falling apart. On her way back to the main bedroom, Alice swiped some chocolates off a side table and noticed a picture of Kimimi Lancaster. How did you do it, mother? How did you decide which girl got her freedom and which became...me?

Alice decided it was time to wake her sister. As uncomfortable as the compound was, being surrounded by soft and glittering things set Alice on edge. There was anger, fear, confusion -- and in her own world of handlers and punishments she would never have to navigate the drama of your world suddenly being absent of parents and inclusive of a twin and fiance.

"Carousel."

Crystal blinked out of her trance and sat up. "How long have I slept?"

"Not long, miss." Alice sat in a chair in full view of the bed and watched as her twin moved her gaze from Alice to the mirror and back again.

"Who are you?"

"No one you'll remember. Tell me: who do you love?"

"Kirtus Pheffer." Crystal seemed shocked at how quickly the response came.

"Good. Marry him."

Crystal sat up straighter and glared at Alice. "I am! Not because of anything you say. I was already planning on getting married."

Alice smirked. "Sure you were. Now I can leave."

"Wait! Who are you?"

Alice left anyway, loading the control app on her phone again. "If only I had a dollar for every time you asked that." Alice pressed the trigger and knew Crystal would close her eyes against the rush of petrichor spraying into the room, weaken her mind enough to remotely erase Alice from her memory.

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Prompt by: @flashfictionfridayofficial

I looked out into the sea of reporters, and then to my mother beside me. Yes, I was here to recant my decision from my birthday. To say: instead of supporting the Society for the Investigation of Human Ecology, a group that can save lives and help us understand ourselves to our very core, I instead want to fund children and mothers. I'm a girl, after all, and apparently a girl in love.

But I couldn't.

One of the reporters, paid by my mother's company, gives me the prompt.

"Miss Lancaster, we've all seen the pictures of you and your fiance. Has your upcoming wedding influenced your plans for the future at all?"

I steel myself to tell him there is no greater future than a world rid of terminal diseases, but before I can betray my mother one more time, there's a ruckus in the crowd.

A homeless man with a very sharp knife has jumped on the stage. I instinctively step back, almost breaking a heel. He's mad, twitching and bug eyed. People lean away not only from his weapon but the deep scratches and lesions on his arms.

Before security can act, he has his arm around my mother and the knife to her throat.

"Monarch Designs are evil!" He screams into the cameras, which have dutifully continued rolling. "Kimimi Lancaster made a deal! With the devil! And her daughter!" He swings in my direction, swaying my mother with him. I get a good look at her face, and wish I hadn't. My cold, emotionless, CEO mother who never once showed an ounce of any emotion -- to anyone -- was afraid.

"Her daughter is supporting an organization that everyone KNOWS is funded by the CIA!"

There were rumors about SIHE, of course, but everything they supported was legitimate. Even if it was secretly a government organization, it was one that did good, not evil. The man glared at me.

"I will end it! I will save you all!" As he bellowed, causing feedback to screech through my mother's microphone, he swiped his knife across her neck.

Before I could see if she had somehow, miraculously, survived -- she was my mother after all, Rebekah had caught me and pulled me away.

"Don't look," she said, "and take those ridiculous shoes off!"

I let the heels slip off my feet and ran with her, following the wild bunch of curls that had sprung from her hair band. She pushed me into a waiting car and we sped off before I could even sit properly in a seat. I slammed into the opposite door as the car moved, still processing what had just happened.

"No--" I clawed at the stubbornly locked door as things started clicking together. "No!" My breath came in rapid, shallow breths as I willed my fingers to stop shaking just long enough to open this stupid locked door--

And then Rebekah was pulling me toward her, shushing me and murmuring. She pulled a shawl around my shoulders and held it tightly, which I'm sure was meant to be comforting but felt like yet another way to keep me restrained.

"Bekah--" My voice cracked and I coughed out a so to get the rest of my words out "Bekah, I have to help her. I have to-to do something. I have to recant! I--"

Rebekah stroked my face, from my forehead to the bottom of my nose three times like my mother had done when I was a child, fighting sleep. When she still loved me. And like it did when I was a kid, it served to calm me now. I became aware of the world again, slowly.

"Shh," she said softly. "Think of softer things. Think of petrichor."

With much thanks to @corav1a for helping me brainstorm how to not completely destroy Rebekah but to still stay (mostly) true to my original plot.

Rebekah brushed a strand of Crystal's hair behind her ear. "I know this feels like a lot. You're not alone."

"No," Crystal said softly. "At least I have you."

Rebekah closed her eyes a moment and opened a jar of lotion. "You have Kirtus too. He..." What was a good thing to say about Kirtus Pheffer? "He is clever, and charismatic. He'll help you manage media and the board."

Crystal laughed and held out her arm for the lotion. "He's not you, though."

Rebekah smiled, saying nothing as she worked the lotion into Crystal's skin. Crystal tilted her head back and closed her eyes with a sigh. "This is my favorite scent. It smells like..."

"Petrichor." Rebekah closed the jar and sighed. "Paradise."

She lay Crystal back and checked the time. They would be here soon.

"Swingset," Rebekah paused, counting the hours. "Twelve half swings."

Crystal smiled, a blush running across her cheeks. She would be back to last night, but last night could no longer be the truth. Rebekah loaded up the application Kimimi had used so ruthlessly at the beginning of this mess. It won't be the same, Rebekah told herself. I'll only press it once. "Who are you with?"

Crystal smiled wider. "Bekah." She breathed.

A tear fell from Rebekah's eyes and she took a breath to steady her voice. She pressed the trigger on her phone. "Who are you with?" Her voice still held a quiver, but didn't break.

Crystal breathed in deeply, a moment of confusion flashing on her brow. "Kirtus?"

"You love Kirtus."

"I love Kirtus."

"Kirtus makes you happy."

"Kirtus makes me happy."

"You want to make a family with Kirtus."

"I want to marry Kirtus and have a baby."

"Paradise."

Rebekah checked the time again. She didn't have long. "Who is Rebekah?"

Crystal's face morphed into a confused smile. "Bekah?"

She still remembers. Good.

"Forest. Rebekah is hiding. Rebekah is a bluebird."

"My bluebird in a field of poppies."

Poppies? That's an interesting place to put me. Rebekah turned at the sound of steps in the hall. "When you need to find me, follow the bluebirds. Find me."

"Find the bluebird."

"Paradise."

Rebekah stood as the door opened. Crystal's doppelganger walked in, alone. "They let you out of your cage by yourself?" She said casually.

Alice smirked and handed Rebekah an envelope. "Your services are no longer required. Here's your severance pay."

Rebekah glared. "And?"

Alice held up a finger and walked to Crystal lying on the bed. "Who do you love?"

Crystal grinned and blushed on cue. "Kirtus. I want to marry him. I want a baby."

Rebekah turned away to hide her hurt as Alice approached her again. "Well done. Your father is in the envelope too."

Rebekah tore the envelope from Alice's hand and grabbed a waiting suitcase.

"I hope they fix you one day. I hope you learn to love."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Sex and love are two different things. Not needing intimacy is normal and lowers distractions. Or do you need a reminder of where 'love' got you?"

Alice's hand was on the phone now, thumb hovering over the trigger. She wouldn't be gentle. Rebekah raised her hands in surrender. "I'm leaving. I'll disappear, as promised."

Alice put the phone down and nodded. Rebekah left. I'll disappear, but I sure as hell won't be gone.

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Here’s the game: pick five quotes that your characters have said about your protagonist, then five quotes your protagonist has said, and then tag five people!

Tagged by: @emdop

WIP: Death of a Monarch Butterfly

Protag: Crystal Lancaster

About Crystal:

1. Purpose of project: Research study, A continuation of ULTRA, the effect of human behavior of the repetition of verbal signals to include olfactory and visual signals. Progress to date: Satisfactory (Vague yet menacingly government agency)

2. "You are destined for great things, miss. Don't let her get to you." (Rebekah)

3. She was spoiled rotten and it made Alice nauseated to no end. (Alice)

4. "I'm afraid my daughter would have...adverse reactions to domestic life. And children.” (Kimimi)

5. Side effects observed immediately following the implementation of SP87 include: vertigo, disorientation, and fever. Field Agent reports target complained “My brain is melting” and suffered a brief fever of 105 degrees (F). (Vague yet menacing government agency)

From Crystal:

1. “Hi guys! Happy Birthday to me! I've chosen the perfect outfit.”

2. "How long have I slept?"

3. "Bekah, my head…" Crystal whispered, "My brain is melting." 

4. "Bekah, I have to help her. I have to-to do something. I have to recant! I--"

5. "Was it...real? Is she...did she make it?"

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