Hell Hath No Fury (Part 2)

The little house was a mess... Left abandoned as it had been the day she'd been hurt. She'd sent someone for what little she had of value, and now she was there to say goodbye to the life that had been taken away from her, the child she never got to hold.

Rose was dressed in a white gown, one of a finer quality than she had seen in the many months since her arrival in Venice... Her hair fell in healthy waves down her back, the rich chestnut gleaming slightly in the sunlight as she moved in through the door that now hung on hinges. Her dark eyes fell to the blood stain that still smeared the floor, and she knelt down to lay the single rose she had picked from the overgrown garden in the back, and gently ran her fingers over the dried stain. For the longest time, she knelt there, silent. No tears fell from her eyes, for her tears had been spent during the first weeks of her recovery. She shifted her still, casted arm within the sling, the only thing left from that night that marred her physical appearance.

Finally, she opened her mouth to sing to the little life that never was, "Dodo, l’enfant do, l’enfant dormira bien vite... Dodo, l’enfant do, L’enfant dormira bientôt." Sleepy time, the young one sleeps, the child will sleep very soon... Sleepy time, the young one sleeps, the child will sleep oh, so soon. "Une poule blanche est là dans la grange. Qui va faire un petit coco, pour l’enfant qui va fair’ dodo." A white hen is in the barn. It’ll make a small egg for the child who goes to sleep....( Here ) Her lovely voice was soft as she sang, somewhat mournful as she let go of whatever sadness she harbored for a baby that never got to discover her feet, or gnaw on her little fist. God wasn't ready to relinquish the little soul to Rose.

She stood, then, and started to roam, humming the final strains of the song. Her eyes half closed as she touched the mantle of the long, cold hearth, the lone bottle of rose oil she'd made standing vigilant off to one side, covered now in a thin layer of dust. Broken glass crunched underfoot, unheeded by the young Frenchwoman, and she'd catch hold of the quilt that lay in a heap by the chair that was on it's side, as broken as she'd once been.

Memories of the Mama Maria smiling at her as she mastered her first meal, a soup that had no meat in it but tasted lovely... She could almost smell it, and the scent of the fresh, crusty bread. Rose gave a half smile of her own as she lifted the partly tattered quilt and folded it lovingly over her arm, intending to keep it. She moved to the other side of the little house and gazed at the bed, flashes of Raniero making love to her flitting through her mind, and she'd sit on the hay filled mattress, then reach beneath for the letter she had written her lover and never got to send... A sealed letter. She got the last of what she wanted, little keepsakes to remind her of the good things. She was tired of mourning, of the pain that she associated with her past. When she went to leave, she'd reached the door before she turned back and went to retrieve the only bottle that had survived the terror she'd experienced in the wake of the beating she took.

Her fingers curled around the vial and she held it to her chest... This, she thought, would represent her own survival... Basilio might think he broke her, but she still stood strong among the chaos that was her life. She turned again, and that was when she saw the figure standing in the door, his face shadowed as the light spilled in from behind him... She lifted her chin and stared, and the vision dissipated... She would not be afraid... She would not give him her fear. She tucked away each of the objects she would keep, and left the confines of the little house that would probably never see another owner unless someone bought it from her. She'd have it cleaned if that happened, but for now, would leave it as it was.

With the quilt draped over her arm, she moved to the canal where she'd almost killed herself, peering at it silently and remembering the face of the man who had saved her; the face of an angel. She wondered where he was, if she'd ever see him again so she could thank him for the second chance he'd helped to give her at life.. This was her conclusion to her final visit to the Ghetto, where she would never have to enter again thanks to the kindness of Edward and his sister, Annabel. Her mouth pressed into a line and she started to back away from the murky water...

word count: 865

Re: Hell Hath No Fury (Part 2)

Wanting to make sure Rose didn't get any bright ideas like thinking of revenge or going to talk over the guards after Basilio beating her, he had sent out a goon to spy on her. At first the man thought that there was no one inside the house, but he then heard faint singing coming from the house which confirmed that his mark was still around. It took some time for Rose to leave the house and the man followed her like a shadow, staying far enough so that she wouldn't spot him right away, but close enough that he couldn't lose her in the twisting paths of Venice.

It was rather easy to follow Rose as she didn't seem to think that someone would try to spy on her right after the horrible event. It made the man smile. If things would continue to go like this, the whole job would be cakewalk. He stopped as Rose stopped to stare at the water. Would she drown herself in the canal? That would make his job even easier! Unfortunately, she still seemed to have some mental strenght left and she continued her walk, to the Ghetto for the man's surprise. He wondered what she would do there...

word count: 213

Re: Hell Hath No Fury (Part 2)

She walked for a time, not in any hurry... After all, her work was temporarily put to a stop until she could get settled into a new routine after she finished healing... She paused at the doorway of a neighbor and talked to them for a moment... If the goon was close enough, he might hear snippets of her asking the woman to please tend to the garden, and handed over a small purse of money. Hell, she was much different than Basilio may have painted her, if he watched, for she seemed to have the esteem of her former neighbors, well, those who she might have taken to dining with. She shelled out money at another house for a basket to replace the one that lay in tatters on the other side of the ghetto, placing the items she held into the container so it was easier to carry and that she could go to the market to replace the knife that went into the shoulder of the one who broke her wrist, which was still encased in the cast that she was about ready to yank off for the itchiness underneath.

Of course, she felt like someone was in the background again... She paused at some point and stood there like she knew nothing. Then she cleared her throat, and without turning around, because she didn't know if her instinct was right or she was just being paranoid again, she almost called out, "If Basilio sent you, you've got no need to bother," but then stopped herself. Best not to alert them...

She turned in the direction of whoever might be lurking in the shadows and glanced around. Indeed, Basilio only took and took from her... He took her locket for pennies, a deal she orchestrated, something that should have helped him out, and then he got angry because she didn't want to earn money by fucking him. He treated her like some common whore to be had whenever pleased, and had all the nerve to beat her so bad that he killed her baby... He'd smashed up her livelihood, which meant he stole money from her. For what?

If he sent another goon, how dare he? And furthermore, even if he did send a goon, there wasn't a thing she could say to make the dude go away. He was paid by Basilio, not her, pleading her case would fall upon deaf ears and she knew it. She had to lose whoever it was that might be following.

This is when she saw a friend and called out a cheerful greeting, then started off quickly in that direction. Then she would dart off like in a hurry, heading back to the canal in order to get into a gondola and be off and out of the damned ghetto.

word count: 477

Re: Hell Hath No Fury (Part 2)

So far the woman hadn't done anything reporting while. There had been few changes of word between neighbours as well as some money being exchanged for a job of some sort, only for that money being exchanged for a basket. There might have been something at the bottom of the basket that he didn't see, but he doubted it was nothing of important. And even if it was, he could try to figure out its contents later on.

As Rose stopped, the goon stopped as well and slowly took few steps back. Had she noticed him? He had kept reasonable distance from her, but it would be reasonable for her to be paranoid of things, given the circumtances. The goon held his breath to be as quiet as possible, giving the woman little bit more leash before starting to follow her again. He didn't want to lose her after following her this far.

There was a sudden greeting and increase in steps, which made the goon hurry. This would be good for him most likely. Whomever Rose was meeting it would mean that her attention would be drawn to them instead of him. But as he caught back to her trail, he saw her riding a gondola and no other in sight. Swearing, he tried to follow her as long as possible before it was clear to the goon that it was time to give off the chase and report back to Basilio. Even if it was practically nothing. He wished he had asked the man pay him up front...

word count: 264

Re: Hell Hath No Fury (Part 2)

She looked back... There was a man, but she wasn't sure if he was a goon or what. She stared him down, her eyes dark with anger. Damn the bastard! Damn him to hell and back! Rose was not a toy! She lifted her chin, stony expression written across her features. She directed the Gondolier to drop her off close to Basilio's shop, and paid extra for her belongings to be delivered to her home...

Rose didn't pay any attention to how long she had been in the boat, she was out of it before it even came to a stop, stalking up to the door of the business and bursting in. Her eyes darted about angrily until she found the mean faced, cowardly man who had become the biggest thorn in her side ever. Assuming he was there, she moved with a purpose... "What do you want from me?" Her words were very soft as she spoke to him.

There was an anger burning in her so hot that her eyes looked almost black, yet she remained calm outwardly otherwise. She waited for his reply from that point, waited to see what he had to say because she wanted to hear it right from the horse's mouth why in the hell he was so obsessed with punishing her for doing what she needed to.

word count: 230

Re: Hell Hath No Fury (Part 2)

"What do you want from me?"

Basilio was surprised by the sudden bursting of Rose that he drew his dagger halfway out in order to defend himself before realising who she was. The surprise soon washed away from his face, getting replaced by his usual evil grin. ''My my, if it isn't the little whore'' he said and leaned against the counter, resting his chin against palm of his hand, clearly not alarmed by her presence anymore. There was clear fire and fury in her eyes for him, but Basilio knew there was nothing she could do to him.

''What I want from you?'' he asked nonchalantly and looked up and down on her body. ''Same that I'v always wanted. Your body. Its a pity you feel so high and mighty for it for some reason. I'd pay good money to see you undressed and under me. You really are a tough nut to crack. But I guess that has become part of the fun'' he continued, his grin widening. She was like a puzzle that he wanted to solve so that he could enjoy the spoils.

word count: 191

Re: Hell Hath No Fury (Part 2)

"You have a grand way of showing your attraction for a woman..." she said with a sigh... There was anger simmering in her dark eyes, but she was clearly restraining herself. Why? Fear? No... If she was afraid of him, she wouldn't have gone to him the moment she suspected he had a goon looking for her... Whether he did or not, she wasn't sure, but she was plenty paranoid about his goons. "My answer is no. I am faithful, and I have plenty of other reasons to refuse you. I just want you to leave me be.. Mon Dieu..."

Her mouth curled downward and she shook her head. "I have not told one person it was you... I have not gotten the authorities... You have plenty who are quite angry with you without me having spoken a word.. I will not keep silent much longer if you continue this. Please, leave me alone."

And she meant what she said. She backed away from him and calmly walked toward the door.

word count: 174
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