Campaign Character Backstory
Character: Eva
Word Count: 7000
Eva stared down at the embossed invitation in her hand, then back up at the Citi Field Casino.
Don’t Be Late for a Very Important Date
The writing was immaculate, intricate, and incredibly artistic. And it was very clearly handwritten. This wasn’t some mass-produced, generic invite. This was personalized. And it had been hand-delivered to her by one of the casino staff the last time she’d been there, hanging on the arm of her latest mark and cheering him on at the roulette table as he bet higher and higher, slipping a few chips from his stacks as she oh-so-helpfully helped him organize his winnings. The jolt of panic had hit hard when the staff member appeared at her elbow and politely asked for a moment; she’d been so careful and yet, maybe this was the time security had finally seen her skimming the winnings. But instead, he’d presented an envelope on a literal silver platter, addressed with her full name, bowed when she took it, and disappeared back into the depths of the casino.
Well, she was here. On the right date, an hour before the right time. I’ll be damned if I’m late to whatever this is. She read the invitation again, searching for any hidden meanings behind the words, any extra loops in the cursive or dots above letters that shouldn’t be there, anything that could be code or warnings or instructions. But all she saw were the words.
You are Invited to a Private Game of Wits and Skill
Present this Writ to the Courier in Ballroom C
Winner Takes All
Cordially, Gwenevyr Maroweleth
“Winner takes all, huh?” Eva chuckled without humor. She’d tried doing research on this Gwenevyr, preferring to know her marks before walking in blind, and had found frustratingly little. Only hit on the internet was a passing mention of her being a donor to a small church in the city. Nothing screamed all-or-nothing gambler, but also nothing screamed axe murderer. It was a risk. A gamble.
Good thing Eva liked to gamble.
As usual, the casino was bustling with activity despite the early evening hour. The sun had barely set and the wealthy, cocky, and desperate were already emptying their wallets and filling their stomachs. She slipped through the crowd with practiced ease, barely anyone glancing twice at the hot pink head bobbing and weaving around waiters and security and patrons. Ballroom C… Ballroom C… why do they call them ballrooms? It’s just more game tables. She found it without trouble, the signs leading her exactly where she wanted. At first glance, the room looked the same as the others. Massive, gaudy, full of people thinking they could beat the House. Now, where’s the courier? She realized she had no idea who or what to look for. The same staff member from last time, maybe? But she’d barely even glanced at the man’s face, too intrigued by the envelope. Could she find him again? I swear, if this is what makes me late I will quit gambling and go back to school.
Eva chewed her lip, trying to tamp down the growing anxiety. Not that she cared about inconveniencing this Gwenevyr, but it was the principal of the thing. Not a good first impression if she showed up late and lost.
Quiet as a whisper, a figure drifted into her periphery. Long black hair past her waist, a streak of white in the bangs that covered the left side of her face, wearing a simple but beautiful dark blue ruffled dress. The girl, who looked not much older than Eva, kept her hands clasped in front of her as she stepped up to Eva’s elbow.
“Miss Clairmont?” The girl’s voice was soft, yet somehow carried through the din and bustle of the ballroom with ease. Eva met her eyes — or, eye, as she could only see one with how the girl’s hair obscured the other. She had a serene, almost dreamy look to her as she smiled at Eva. “Please, follow me. Miss Maroweleth will be pleased to see you’ve taken her up on her invitation.”
“And why exactly invite me? I don’t know who she is. How does she know me?” Eva couldn’t keep the suspicious bite out of her voice, but she did follow the girl as they started walking through the crowd, who all seemed to part and move around them like they were a bubble of peace in a sea of noise.
“Miss Maroweleth may have the answers you wish for. I am merely here to deliver you to her. My apologies for not being more helpful in this moment.” The girl didn’t turn to address Eva at all as she spoke, but her words were clear as if they were standing side by side. They wove through the tables, heading towards a wall of VIP elevators. One of the security guards gave them a passing glance as they approached before stepping aside and pressing the button to call one. The doors dinged open immediately like it had been waiting for them the whole time which, now that Eva thought about it, maybe it had. The girl stepped in and turned to smile at Eva, gesturing for her to also step in, though the smile didn’t quite seem to reach her eyes. Those still looked dreamy, like she was looking through Eva instead of at her. As best Eva could tell, though, she didn’t seem impaired at all, no slurred speech or unsteady gait like she was drunk or high. Interesting company this Gwenevyr keeps.
The girl hit the button for the VIP floor and they stood in awkward silence as the elevator lurched into motion.
“… you know my name, I guess. Care to tell me yours?” Eva could at least get something useful from this courier, hopefully. Names were useful. If Gwenevyr was at all shady, maybe this girl needed help. Or, at the very least, Eva could file away her name for later.
“I am…” the girl paused, head tilting to the side like she had to think about it. Then her eyes focused for a moment, and the smile looked slightly more genuine. “I am Linnea. And you are Evangeline. It is a beautiful name.”
“I — thank you.” Eva didn’t know what to make of that. She also fought the instinct to shrink down, to bring her shoulders to her ears, to shy away from the sound of her name. But the way the girl said it, it sounded far nicer than the tone her mom had always used when calling her full name. No snapping of fingers or throwing of dishes accompanied it. “Yours is nice, too.”
“Is it?” Linnea tilted her head again, considering it. “I’ve always thought it sounded like a sigh.”
Eva had no idea what to say to that. She was saved by another ding as the elevator arrived and shuddered to a halt. The doors opened into a hall lined with black and white tiles, chandeliers overhead casting a dim glow that softened the harsh edges of the decor. Linnea led the way, walking past several closed doors with engraved plaques denoting room numbers. It was dead silent save for the clicks of their heels on the tile. You can still leave. Turn around and leave. Elevator’s right there. But curiosity was winning out. Personalized invitation? VIP access? If nothing else, this woman was loaded. And if there was any financial incentive attached to whatever game she had planned, Eva would take her for all she was worth.
Linnea stopped at the end of the hall where they were met with a closed double door. She knocked twice and waited. Eva didn’t hear any response or signal, but after a few seconds Linnea nodded and opened the door. There was no ominous creak of hinges or ringing of a bell, just a slight whoosh as Eva finally got a glimpse at her hostess.
The first thing that got to her was the fact that the room was lit by actual candles installed in the chandelier overhead, casting sparkling lights and flickering shadows around the room. It was both cozy and off-putting, and surprisingly well-lit. Sitting at the large table in the middle of the room was a truly beautiful woman with long, silvery-white hair past her waist framing pale blue eyes and paler skin. Atop her head was a small black and white top-hat-like fascinator at a jaunty angle, though on her it looked classy rather than silly. Against the warm tones of the candlelight, Gwenevyr looked like she’d stepped out of an old black-and-white movie save for the splash of blue embroidery adding motifs of flowers in her frilled black dress. As Eva stepped into the room, Gwenevyr stood and smiled slightly.
“Evangeline,” she said. Her voice was quiet, soothing in a way Eva didn’t like. “I am ever so pleased you accepted my invitation. Please, make yourself comfortable. The game can begin whenever you wish. Thank you, Linnea. You may leave us for now.”
Casting a final look around, Eva noted the extravagant tea party set up on the table and the space in the middle left cleared for the large chessboard set up with the white pieces facing the empty chair and the black pieces facing Gwenevyr. Finger sandwiches sat on a tiered serving platter and a pot of tea being heated by another candle filled the room with an herbal scent. Linnea actually curtsied towards them both before backing out and pulling the door shut with a gentle click.
Now it was just her and her mysterious host alone in the room. Eva lingered just a little longer, eyeing the empty seat across the table and taking in the sight. The tea did smell good and the sandwiches looked fresh.
“Welcome. It is a pleasure to meet you, Evangeline.”
“It’s just Eva,” she said with a little too much force.
“Well then, Eva, you may call me Gwen. Will you join me?” Gwen gestured to the table, then took her seat again. “Enjoy the refreshments, I had them prepared just for our time together.”
“A lot of effort for meeting a complete stranger,” Eva couldn’t help but quip, but she did move a little closer to the table. It was a sort of organized chaos, none of the plates and serving dishes quite matching with clashing colors, swirls, and checkerboard designs. The teacup in front of Gwen wasn’t the same size or shape as the one sitting in front of the empty chair, either. “Why go through all this trouble?”
“Because I admire your grift, my dear. You are quite skilled. And I believe you have demonstrated great promise if given the opportunity to grow even more.” Gwen settled into her seat and poured herself a cup of steaming tea, lifting it to her lips and blowing on it several times as she kept smiling at Eva over the rim. “And I wonder if your mind is as brilliant as your sticky fingers. Would you indulge me in this game?”
“What are the stakes? Invite said ‘winner takes all’. What did you mean by that?” Eva paused before sitting, resting her hands on the back of the chair.
“It’s simple.” Gwen set the teacup down and folded her hands, still staring up at and sort of through Eva. “You win, you leave with your life and the satisfaction of beating an opponent who saw through your mask from the moment you stepped through that door… and a monetary reward for your time and trouble. You lose, and you shed your mortal coil. It will be painless, that I can promise. But when I say winner takes all, that is what I mean.”
Eva blinked. What? The fuck? “Shed my mortal coil?”
“Yes.”
“That – you’ll just kill me?”
“With poison. And I did promise it is painless.” Gwen reached into a hidden pocket in her dress and withdrew a small vial filled with a pale, translucent lavender liquid. “After all… you have very little to lose other than your life, no? What greater stakes to play against?”
“So if I lose, I die and if you lose, I just get money and the satisfaction of beating you? You don’t drink the poison?” Eva’s hands gripped the chair a little tighter as she searched Gwen’s face, seeing nothing that gave away a bluff.
“If it would give you more satisfaction, I would drink the poison upon my loss.” The smile never left Gwen’s face, though it did seem to grow as she spoke. Like she was entertained by the idea. She set the vial down next to her teacup. “I do have much more to lose, but there is much to gain in the simple playing of the game regardless of the outcome.”
She’s crazy. This whole thing is crazy. Just walk away. Turn around, walk out, go scam someone in the lobby. But Gwen also looked so confident. Not smug, but confident. Eva had met plenty of people like that – they didn’t need to be smug to think they were the smartest person in the room or held the most power. Even if those kinds of people were smart and skilled, all it took was the right nudge to pick apart their armor. “Alright then. Let’s play.”
“Excellent. Help yourself to the tea and snacks. The game begins with your move.”
Eva pulled the chair out just enough to slip into the seat. Her hip caught the edge of the table and jostled the board slightly — not enough to topple any pieces, but a few did rattle. Gwen’s hand immediately went from flat on the table to adjusting the pieces, recentering them on each tile one by one until they were perfectly aligned again. A perfectionist, huh? Good to know. She glimpsed the slightest downturns at the corners of Gwen’s mouth, somewhere between disapproval and judgment. First step to rattling an opponent is seeing what they focus on. Distractions are wits’ downfall when skill fails. Eva eased into her seat after that, taking care to not bump the board again. She had what she needed. Gwen’s face quickly settled back into her dreamy smile, waiting for Eva to get settled. Just to push a little more, she took her time pouring herself tea and studying the sandwiches before selecting one. It was just cucumber and cream cheese, but it did actually taste good. Then, finally, she studied the board and made her first move. Gwen said nothing, just picked up her first piece and played it.
The game began in relative quiet, the only sounds the quiet clunk of the heavy pieces hitting the board. It was Gwen who broke the silence after taking one of Eva’s castles in an unexpected move. “For a young lady with such a talent for identifying patterns and studying personalities, why do you spend your time with questionable company, skimming their profits? Do you not wish to apply yourself in a way that would unravel the threads that tangle up within people to find the core of their web?”
“People are… complicated. Give an inch and they’ll take a mile. The longer you stick around, the more they expect and the more they get to know you in return.” Eva chewed her lip, studied the board, and made a bold move with a pawn to capture one of Gwen’s knights. Gwen didn’t even hesitate, moving one of her bishops to take the pawn Eva had just played. “It’s easier to be who they want to see if I don’t have to be around them longer than I need to.”
“You simply walk atop the threads to see where they lead rather than study how they are tied together?”
“... your metaphors are confusing.”
“So I’ve been told.” Gwen motioned for her to take her next move. “Do you not have threads tying you to friends? Family? Surely you have ones close to you where you can be yourself.”
Eva thought about it. There’s Lewis… still haven’t replied to his last text. I’ll be meeting up with Ollie again next week. There’s… there really isn’t anyone else. She moved a castle.“I have enough.”
Gwen took Eva’s castle and trapped her rook with one move of her remaining knight. “How do you define enough? Are you truly content with the way your life is going? Do you not maintain more connections because you do not wish to be tied to what came before?”
“Why do you care?” Eva squinted slightly, hand hovering over her bishop before she committed to the move. “What’s your interest in me?”
“Oh, Eva. Can’t you tell? I’m the queen of bleeding hearts,” Gwen said. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, which still looked dreamy and unfocused like they were looking through her instead of at her. “It’s a bit of a curse, really. I find the lost and the lonely and the listless. I offer them a place and a purpose.”
“... and you think I’m one of these?” Eva bristled at the thought. And yet she’s not wrong.
“Tell me, then. Where are you going?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Gwen smiled, and Eva realized what she’d just admitted. Heat crept up her neck and she grabbed the bishop, moved it, and set it down with a little too much force. “I – I mean I’m not going anywhere until this game is over. I have plenty of plans. Places to be. People to meet.”
“How many of those places are home?” Gwen leaned forward slightly, her voice carrying a comfort that Eva really didn’t like. “How many of those people are friends?”
Eva didn’t answer. She was staring at the board, studying the pieces that were left. The bishop. She’d set it in the wrong spot. She’d been so flustered by Gwen’s question she hadn’t thought through the move.
“Hmm. A different question then.” Gwen placed her hand on her knight again but didn’t move it yet. “Who… are you?”
“You know who I am. You invited me by name.”
“A name is just a name. Who are you?”
Eva sat with the question, barely paying attention to where Gwen moved the knight. Who am I? To Ollie, I’m her kind sister. To Lewis, I’m the studious drop-out. To my marks, I’m a flirty date. To my mom, I’m – Eva sipped her tea, ignoring the burn from the still too-hot liquid. I’m tired. “I’m me.”
“And who is that? Who would you want to be, if you could be any version of you?”
“... I’d still like to be me. But that ‘me’ isn’t fun for anyone.”
“Is that why there are so many of you?” Gwen sat back, indicating with a small hand wave that it was Eva’s turn again. “One ‘Eva’ for every friend and face you meet? The right ‘Eva’ to be fun to the right person? Oh… dear, you must be exhausted.”
“What kind of psychoanalysis is this? There’s just one of me. No more. People get what they get. Not my fault if they expect a smile so I have to wear one.” Eva held the tea in one hand still and picked up her last remaining rook, studied the board, and took Gwen’s castle. “I’m me. No one else.”
“I see.” Gwen barely even looked at the board as she moved her queen to take Eva’s rook, still looking at Eva. “Then I will say again, it is a pleasure to meet you, Eva.”
“Not sure I can say ‘likewise’ just yet.” Eva studied the board and felt a chill down her spine. Somehow, while being distracted by Gwen’s questions, she hadn’t been watching the board as closely as she’d thought. Both of them had lost most of their pieces, but Eva was down to her king, her queen, one knight, and two pawns. Gwen had her king and queen, both bishops, a knight, and a rook. If she was going to win, Eva had to be both careful and bold. She ran over the various moves she could make, trying to see a way to take more pieces or set up a checkmate. I’ll have to risk my queen and my knight, she realized with horror. It’ll leave my king wide open if I can’t get my pawn in place. And if her bishop takes my pawn before that happens… Eva swallowed hard and glanced at the vial still sitting on the table by Gwen’s teacup. She picked up her knight and set it down to put Gwen’s king in check. “Did you have any other questions for me?”
“Many. But very few I see you answering.” Gwen took longer to make her move. Her hands stayed folded on the table as her eyes shifted rapidly from spot to spot on the board like she was playing out a thousand possible moves in her mind. Then she moved her rook and had Eva’s king in check as well. “I will ask one you might answer. If tonight is indeed your last night alive, is there anyone you would want to bid farewell to?”
Eva opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and couldn’t find the words. Yes. I’d want to tell Ollie to not be sad. To not miss me. She’s better off without me pulling her down. Instead, she moved her king out of check. Gwen responded by taking Eva’s knight with her queen. Eva used her queen to take Gwen’s queen. “It would just cause more pain than if I quietly disappeared, I think.”
“I see. I am sorry you think that way.” Gwen’s smile seemed to grow slightly more genuine, slightly more sympathetic. “It truly is a shame, Eva. The circumstances that have shaped your life could have gone in so many different directions. Even one thread laid differently could have given you a different path. But instead, the path before you wound and wove and led you through twists and turns to end here, in this room, with the two of us. You have been wonderful company tonight. I am afraid, however, that we have reached our checkmate.”
“Wh–” Eva blinked, stared at the board. Her king sat alone, a single pawn by its side, Gwen’s bishop and rook trapping it with nowhere to go against the edge of the board. I… I lost? That can’t… how did I lose? She counted the pieces on the board. Gwen hadn’t taken any extra pieces. All her moves had been legal. And yet Eva had lost. The game had been closer than she’d expected, as she’d gambled, and she’d still lost.
Gwen leaned back in her chair and sighed. It was gentle, neither regretful nor contented. “May I have your cup?”
For a second, Eva contemplated bolting. Even if that Linnea girl was waiting outside, Eva was fast. She could slip through grasping hands and make it to the elevator. If it wasn’t still on the floor, she’d noted the door leading to the staircase. If she made it down to the casino, she could disappear into the crowd. But this had been a fair game, as far as she could tell. And she’d agreed on the stakes. So, she picked up her half-drunk tea, which had gone lukewarm, and held it out. Gwen took it, and when their fingers brushed hers felt cold against Eva’s despite having been holding her own steaming cup for almost the entire game. Gwen took it, poured the vial’s contents into it, swirled it with the teaspoon, and handed it back. “I am a woman of my word, Eva. There will be no pain.”
“To a well-played game, then,” Eva said, taking the cup back and raising it in a half-hearted toast. Gwen chuckled, a soft noise, and clinked her own cup to Eva’s. Then, with one final deep breath, Eva drank. The tea left a bittersweet aftertaste on her tongue. She set down the cup and looked Gwen in the eye, searching for any hint of a bluff in her posture and expression. But Gwen just continued to sit there, dreamy smile on her face, hands folded on the table, patient and calm. Only then did Eva notice Gwen’s cup was still full. She’d never taken a single sip. “And how long will this poison take?”
“Not long at all, my dear. You are braver than most I have met. Not once did you run, no matter how often you thought of it. I saw many possible futures in which you did, and yet not once did you choose that path when the moment came.” More insane ramblings. Eva shook her head and planted her palms on the table to stand. Gwen still didn’t move to stop her. “Thank you for a most enlightening game, Eva. You truly have a bright future ahead of you.”
“Do I?” Eva made it to her feet, still confident she’d called Gwen’s bluff. “How can I have a future if I really just drank poison?”
“Does a caterpillar not have a future when it is unmade in its chrysalis? It must crawl before it can take flight. Its old form must die for its new form to be born. Metamorphosis requires sacrifice. But it does not always require pain. The caterpillar does not fear its rebirth. What emerges may be something new and different, but it beholds a new land of wonders once it learns to fly. You have been crawling long enough, Eva. It is time to spread your wings.”
“Or maybe you’re just insane.” Eva turned, intending to take her leave. The room tilted and she caught herself on the table. Her heart started beating harder, so hard she felt it against her ribs. The tips of her fingers and toes tingled with pins and needles as her vision swam. Or maybe she’s been telling the truth this whole time. Sweat prickled at her brow and the back of her neck. “Oh… fuck me.”
Gwen stood, drifting around the table just in time to catch Eva as her legs gave out. Despite her slight frame, Gwen’s arms were solid and strong as the two of them sank to the floor. Eva was shaking, though she didn’t feel cold. Gwen held her head in her lap, stroking her hair gently, humming a soft tune Eva didn’t recognize. Black spots swam in Eva’s eyes, narrowing her vision to a thin tunnel until all she could see was Gwen’s face. Then even that grew fuzzy at the edges, her heart was beating so fast, and there still wasn’t any pain. She was sinking into the darkness and Gwen hadn’t lied. It was almost like she was falling asleep.
“Into the chrysalis you go, dear Eva. I am so excited to see what emerges.” Gwen laid her cold hand on Eva’s forehead, just letting it rest there, until Eva couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore.
***
Eva didn’t know which was worse, the pounding in her head or the pain in her gut. Everything was dark and for a moment she thought she’d gone blind until her vision adjusted enough to see the faint outlines of shelves and benches. Wherever she was, it wasn’t the VIP room anymore. It was dark and somewhat cramped and smelled faintly of cleaning supplies and musty air.
where am i? who are you it hurts hello LOUDquiet
be quiet so much noise a new one sweet thing
so scared so huNGRy ssshhh whisper now its quiet time so young so alone
Whispers, shouts, overlapping voices and thoughts that buzzed and overlapped and melded together and it was so hard to think and she clamped her hands over her ears but it didn’t help at all because the voices were in her head and she couldn’t think it’s too loud please just stOP TALKING IT HURTS WHERE AM I BE QUIET –
And then the voices went quiet. Not silent. But a faint murmur, white noise, muffled but not gone. At least that didn’t hurt as much.
Not like her stomach.
She’d been hungry before. Many times. Staring at empty plates on the table while Ollie’s was piled high. Wooden spoons, then cutlery, then the plates themselves brought down on her knuckles if she accepted a bite from Ollie’s servings, even if Ollie was the one who offered them. Of course, the reprimands never happened in front of Ollie. Never at the table. Always after. She knew very well the hollow ache from going hours or days without food. She knew the dizziness that came with dehydration, the shakiness in her hands that came from starvation.
That was nothing compared to the emptiness she felt now. She was shivering, but she wasn’t cold. She was sweating, but she wasn’t hot. She smelled and tasted blood, raised a trembling hand to her face, and wiped away a dark smear of mostly-dried blood from under her nose.
Something else moved in the dark.
Eva froze completely. No blinking, not even breathing. A soft groan filled the room as a figure she’d mistaken for a heap of discarded rags or cloth stirred. With her eyes adjusting to the darkness, she saw a head of long, lank dark hair rise from the floor and look around. The figure also froze when she finally looked far enough to see Eva, though her chest rose and fell with shallow, labored breaths.
Eva finally felt something. She felt a chill down her spine as she stared at the monster who called herself Mother.
Her mother, Mara, struggled to sit up, needing to try three times before her arms could support her weight. It reminded Eva of the nights when Mara could barely stay on her feet, reeking of alcohol, slurring her words as she screamed insults and curses and threw whatever was within reach in Eva’s general direction before collapsing on the couch, bed, or even the floor and mumbling Ollie’s name until she passed out. But Mara didn’t smell like alcohol. She just smelled… sweet. Warm. Faintly of perfume and something else Eva couldn’t figure out, just that it smelled good. Comforting. Nostalgia stirred somewhere deep in the back of her mind; memories of being held in her mom’s lap, a lullaby humming through her as she drifted to sleep, the gentle touch of her mom’s hand on her cheek. Memories from before everything fell apart. From before Mara decided she only wanted one daughter. The better daughter.
Eva stayed where she was, trembling from the ache in her body and the terror of seeing her mother again after so long. Mara looked back at her, then around at the room, crawling on all fours until she got close to a shelf and heaved herself up. Eva watched as her mother felt around blindly. Her hand slapped the doorknob, grabbed it, rattled it. It didn’t move. Then an explosion of light that forced Eva to hide her face. The dim bulb glowed and flickered, a weak orange glow barely enough to illuminate the cramped storage room but the sudden brightness after so long in the dark made her eyes hurt.
“Who are… where are…” Mara’s voice was just as shaky as her legs, which refused to support her any longer. She slid back down, back against the wall, breathing heavily from the exertion. Eva managed to peek between her fingers as her eyes fought to adjust to the illumination. Her mother’s face was pale and sweaty, bangs plastered to her forehead, pupils massive even with the light. Eva had seen it before. Drugs. However she’d ended up in this room, her mother must have gotten a similar treatment. But by the look of Mara’s clothes, sweat-stained and filthy, and the faint scent of body odor now drifting over the initial smell Eva had caught, Mara must have been here quite a while longer than Eva. Gwen planned the whole thing. She never planned to let me leave. Even if I won. Was this my real prize? Mara wiped her eyes and looked at Eva again, squinting in the dim light. Then, recognition crossed her face. Recognition and horror. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”
Mara pushed from the wall and crawled to Eva. She couldn’t help but flinch, curling into a tighter ball. Then she felt arms around her. Weak, shaky, yet somehow still strong. Her mother pulled her close, cradling her, rocking her.
“Oh, honey. Are you okay? Did they hurt you? I’ve got you. Momma’s got you.” Mara’s breath was warm against the top of her head. Her voice was thin, scratchy from dehydration, choked with emotion. “I’ve got you, honey. You’re safe now.”
Eva still couldn’t speak. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, push her mother away or scratch her eyes out or hug her so tight she could crush her and yet no sound came out because she still hadn’t taken a breath.
motherly love such affection revolting
so sweet disgusting embrace her sweet thing lovely thing sweet like
honey kiss and bliss stay quiet breathe
what will she do what will YoU do who is she
who are you
The static swelled, overlapping, chaotic, painful. Eva winced, tensed, and her mother held her even tighter. “It’s okay. I know. I’m scared, too. We’ll get out of here together. I’m not leaving you.”
Eva finally managed to draw in a breath. Her mother’s scent filled her nose, washed over her mouth, and the emptiness in her gut twisted. She whimpered like she was five years old again.
“Are you hurt? Where does it hurt? Let me get a look at you. I’ll kill them if they hurt you.”
Mara released her just enough to lean back and get a look at her. Eva braced herself. It was coming. She knew it. Unable to help it, she flinched again and pulled away. But the blow didn’t come. The hand that touched her face was gentle. Cautious. Tender.
“Oh, Liv… what have you done to your beautiful face?” Her mother’s hand trailed down her cheek, lingering for a moment on the X’s, before reaching up again to take a lock of pink hair between her fingers. Her face scrunched up like she was trying to hold back tears. “Your hair… your ears… you were supposed to be the good one. You weren’t supposed to be Eva.”
Liv… she thinks I’m Olivia. The good one. Not the mistake. She only loves me because she thinks I’m Ollie.
“Who would you want to be?” Gwen’s voice, clear as day, drifting through her mind louder than any of the other voices flooding through her. It was like she was there in the room with the two of them, it was so clear. “Which version would you be?”
I’m not Ollie. I could never be Ollie. I’ll never be good enough to be Ollie. Eva’s breaths came faster, a hitch in them as she felt tears in her eyes but they didn’t fall. The last time she’d cried in front of her mother, she’d been met with a slap instead of a tissue. Mara still held her face. When she blinked, a tear escaped her eye. Eva’s mother was the one crying, not her. And it hurt. So much. Eva felt the sorrow, the rejection, the devastation deep in her bones. If she realizes… will she leave me here? Will she hit me until I can’t move and then lock the door behind her?
But her mother still didn’t realize, because she pulled Eva close again. Her hand was on the back of Eva’s head, stroking her hair, and she started to hum. The same lullaby Eva remembered from when she was a child. The hum vibrated in Mara’s chest and through Eva’s. It almost soothed her.
It didn’t soothe the pain in her gut. That was growing. The empty, hollow feeling of hunger that Eva knew all too well. And her mother was so warm. There was a heavy thump beneath the hum, fast but steady. Eva felt it against her skin, impossible to ignore with her face pressed into the crook of Mara’s neck. Her mother smelled like medicine and perfume and something deeper that tugged at her nerves and whispered come closer.
Something shifted behind Eva’s lips. Her teeth dug into the inside of her mouth, sharp, cutting into it. It hurt. Everything hurt. Under the feeble light in the storage closet, held in her mother’s arms, Eva stopped hearing the lullaby and the voices because her mother’s heartbeat was getting louder and louder.
For so many years, Eva had been at her mother’s mercy. Beaten. Screamed at. Starved. All she’d ever wanted was to be loved and held and fed.
Eva pressed her mouth against her mom’s neck and fangs dug in deep. Mara gasped, tensing from pain, maybe shock, and Eva wrapped her arms around her mother to hold her and keep her close. And she drank.
Yes. This is what mothers are supposed to do. They’re supposed to feed their children. Protect their children. Love their children. You’re supposed to feed me. You never gave it to me. I’ll take it.
Mara’s blood was warm and smoky, like Eva could still taste the drugs and cigarettes and alcohol in her even if she’d been held in the closet for days or weeks. It was her childhood. The childhood she remembered every time one of her scam marks lit up or handed her a drink. The childhood she remembered every time someone called her Evangeline. She held her mother tighter, bit down harder, felt Mara’s pulse beating faster and shallower as confusion gave way to fear but for once Eva was the strong one and her mother was the one trapped in her grip.
She drank until her mother stopped fighting. She drank until the whimpers and confused whispers stopped. She drank until she no longer tasted and smelled and remembered her childhood, swallowing it down with the last of the blood. Then she released the embrace.
“Liv… Liv…” Mara slid to the floor, her gasps just as shallow and weak as her heartbeat. But still, a trembling hand reached up to try and wipe the blood from Eva’s chin, like she’d wiped food and dirt from her face many times as a child. Unable to help it, Eva leaned into the touch, for once not flinching because there was no threat left. Even now, aching and starving and confused, she yearned for the comfort she’d wanted for so long. Her mother’s hand drifted higher, to the lock of hair covering Eva’s left eye. She didn’t stop her mother from trying to tuck it behind her ear. But the moment the hair was brushed from her forehead, her mom’s hand froze. She drew in one last shaky breath as her eyes landed on the scar.
“Oh… it’s you…” A single tear welled from Mara’s eye, tinged pink with blood. “My Evie… my Evangeline. I — I always —“
“… mom?” Eva couldn’t help the weak plea from escaping her throat. What? You always what? Loved me? Missed me? Regretted what you did to me?
“I always knew… you’d be the death of me…” Mara’s eyes glazed over, losing focus. A single exhale escaped her chest, and Eva heard her mother’s heart stop.
Eva sat in the darkness and silence, waiting for the tears to come. Even now, surely she’d cry over her mother’s death? The woman had given birth to her, fed her, clothed her, raised her for the first half of her life. Despite the yelling and the drinking and the bruises and the scars, Eva had to feel something now, in the end. Right?
All she felt was… hungry. The intensity of the ache in her stomach and fire in her nerves had been quelled by her mother’s blood, but it wasn’t entirely gone. There was no sorrow. No regret. Not even satisfaction or peace.
The static in her mind was returning. Like a radio station struggling to find a signal, snippets of words and phrases sometimes broke through the hiss and buzz, but she couldn’t hold onto or focus on anything longer than a second or two. It was building like a headache, a pressure behind her eyes, but it didn’t actually hurt now. It was just… distracting.
oh sweetheart you did it
so SORRY you’ll be okay new beginnings take OUt thE TRAsH
start again no connections welcome goodbye
She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s actually gone. Eva held Mara in her lap, staring blankly through her, listening to the static in her mind as her own thoughts drifted, detached, and began to join the chorus. Who am I…? Who am I without her defining me? Who am I without Ollie?
“Who are you?”
All the other voices fell silent. This one was so soft, so gentle, but it was louder than all the rest. So loud it sounded like it was real and not in her head. Then, the click of a lock. The scrape of the latch. The door slowly swung open, leaving Eva blinking as light washed over her. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the soft light diffused through her hair, Gwen looked radiant. Small white shapes flitted about around her head. Butterflies…? Eva blinked, trying to focus on the tiny forms in the sudden illumination. No… just moths.
“Are you ready to learn to fly, Evangeline?” Gwen asked, her voice as soft as her smile. It floated through the air on delicate wings, circling her like butterfly kisses. “Do you know who you want to be now?”
… who do I want to be?
“The butterfly that emerges from her chrysalis is no longer the caterpillar that built it. It is time to meet your new family. Who shall I introduce you as?” Gwen held out her hand. She didn’t push. She didn’t grab. She just waited.
Eva slowly rose, the room no longer spinning, the noise in her head a distant buzz, letting Mara’s body slide to the floor, cold and dead and forgotten. She took one step, then another when she realized she was steady. When she took Gwen’s hand, hers was no longer shaking. Then she looked Gwen in the eye. She did not smile, she did not frown, she did not put on a mask at all. “I am Eva. Just Eva.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Eva. Come. It is time to spread your wings.”
***
< Hey E! U there?>
<E, where’d u disappear to? Is it finals?>
<Eva, are you okay? This isn’t like you>
<hey ollie. sorry. got a new job and its hours are crazy. been too busy. I’m fine, don’t worry>
<oh god, you had me worried. I was about to call Lewis>
<no, please, he won’t leave me alone if you do. Everything’s fine, promise.>
<that’s a relief. We still good to meet saturday for lunch?>
…
…
<eva?>
<sorry. can’t make it. job’s crushing me. maybe dinner in a couple weeks?>
…
<okay. Miss you>
<miss you too>
<btw, have you talked to mom recently? Been trying to call her about my showcase next month but i keep getting her voicemail>
…
<haven’t talked to her, no.>
<oh. Okay. i’ll try calling her again tomorrow.>
<ollie?>
<yeah?>
…
<nevermind. See you sometime soon>