Archivist note: This post is from an older recovered archive.
==Diary: The Widow and the Wasp Part 1==
((Posted by Bianca Namori on July 1, 2010))
Seeing New Babbage on the horizon saddened me slightly. I had enjoyed my time in the eastern sands so much that I almost fisted the window in dislike for returning home. I sighed heavily and held my carrier as the conductor made the rounds through the cars informing us of our "Twenty til arrival".
I nodded at the aged man and looked out the window yet again. On the pier was my dear Uncle Michael and his gaudy welcome home gift of lily’s and lilacs. I rose from my seat the moment the car stopped, straightened my bonnet and headed off the train.
"My darling Uncle! So good to see you again!" I lied through a toothy grin, but beloved as my uncle is, he did not need to know I was not happy to be here. He was a kind soul…the only one I cared to have live around me for an extended period of time. Overbearing as he may be, he did not need to have his beautiful view of his innocence kissed niece, tainted.
"Oh Bianca! Welcome home my dear! Here, let me get your bags and these are for you, " he said kissing me on my forehead and handing me the misshapen bouquet. I nodded and smiled as he sauntered off and his peppered hair was mingled with the other gents of age grabbing parcels for their returning loved ones.
"Uncle…you tool…" I smiled smelling the flowers and holding them close. I eyed the people at the station, all of them in their own little myopic bubbles, rotting corpses…I felt myself flare slightly and held my stomach. I had to keep this beast within me secret for I had let it free for too long out in the desert. Babbage wouldn’t be able to handle it…as barely I can myself.
The walk home wasn’t as far as I thought it would be and I couldn’t be happier to see my old studio still in tact. I had been gone for several months in the making at any rate and prayed none of my uncles clients made their way into my slice of solitude.
Dear uncle put my suitcase down upon her…I mean my bed. IT wasn’t hers…no…it was mine. My bed, and soon he left me to wash up and prepare for dinner. I took my time and looked around my room memorizing everything as "he" had taught me too. From the clock to my brushes upon my vanity, everything had a form lined by a small bit of purpose.
I had already placed the flowers in a vase on an end table downstairs before coming up to my room and had no need to worry about dealing with their fallen pedals about my carpet.
The evening went well and was short and sweet, as I wanted it. I felt myself desire sleep and soon sleep began to fulfill my fantasy.
Around midnight a knock upon my window woke me and my first motion was to reach for the dagger I hid underneath my pillow. All was silent as I sat up glaring at the window as if I could melt it’s icy frame.
Silence.
Soon I felt myself emerge from my comforter and sheets and let my feet touch the shocking floor of my chambers. I was soon nose to nose with my reflection which glared at me angrily before I looked passed it and down below is none other than my dear friend…Mr. Melnik.
I could kill him…I should kill him….she wanted him dead. I loved him…he was dear to me…but logic decided not tonight as I opened my window to hear what he had to say.
"Hey there! I saw you had returned Ms. Namori and wanted to catch you before you went to bed."
"I’m afraid you failed on your mission Mr. Melnik for I have retired for the evening. Perhaps we can speak tomorrow?"
"That’s perfectly understandable and fine with me. I must hear of your tales in the sand my dear friend! I think it would make for an interesting story! Goodnight then." he says with a smile as he headed off into the night.
"Hmm…" I said closed the window and laid back into my bed.
The devil met me there and reminded me of the joys I had while in the sands…the pain that I watched cover the faces of those in his way…and the pain I endured myself in it’s toxic, enticing ways. The way she burned me…I burned me…we burned within one another. AGH! I can’t sleep…not yet…she had to be shut up…
I rose to my vanity and opened up the doll I had brought back with me and popped off it’s head. Within her neck was a small canister of tiny little blue pills. My salvation.
I popped one in and reattached the dolls head kissing her goodnight. I loved her…she loved me…but she hated her so she couldn’t sleep with me.
How I longed to see the blood flow freely as beautifully red as the sands of that desert land. Soon the pills took us…
