Revelations or Treachery?

From the Story Arc: The Night the Light Went Out in Striga

Previous Story in the Arc: The Flame Dies... by Madame Molotov (Saturday, July 09, 2005)

Next Story in the Arc: Tears of Rage by Madame Molotov (Sunday, July 24, 2005)

(posted Thursday, July 14, 2005)

Molotov could hear the sound of water dripping in the distance. The echo of water drops seemed to amplify with every new drop of water that followed. Molotov thought I really need to have someone fix that leaky faucet…it is most annoying. Molotov opened her eyes slowly, her head was pounding with one of the worst headaches she had ever had.

“Ack…I must really stop drinking cheap Americanski vodka” she muttered to herself. She remembered the last time she felt this bad was when she had attempted to out drink that strange Titianian Paladin guy who kept claiming he was from another planet. She did not remember much from that night, except somehow the bar caught fire and she woke up the next morning with a horrendous headache.

As Molotov’s eyes slowly came into focus she realized that she was not in her tiny rundown apartment in King’s Row. That apartment had been the fifth place she has stayed at since moving to Paragon and though she had not been there long, she knew that wherever she was now was somewhere she probably did not want to be. Her apartment might be small and have more roaches than the amount of rent she paid each month, but at least she knew she was safe there. Molotov found herself in a very small square of a room, her feet were shackled and her hands bound to the wooden table she was lying on. No windows anywhere and the only “decoration” to be seen other then the large steel door on the opposite wall was the small crack on the ceiling. From this crack came the occasional drop of water… which found its way to the floor in a small puddle near one of the room’s corners.

It began to come back to her… the conversation with the Commissar… running to Striga ALONE…. Without backup… without letting anyone know where she was going…. Taking on the Council…… What was she thinking?? Why did they not just kill me? How long have I been here?? A million questions swirled through her mind. If only she had listened…if only she had waited like the Commissar said… I am a fool!!

Molotov’s thoughts were interrupted as the door to the cell was opened. In walked two Council officers who flanked both sides of the door. Next in walked another Council officer who was obviously of higher rank.

“Very good,” he said. “Molotov, is good to see you are awake.”

“Go to hell” Molotov said.

“Ahhh…. Yes…” he replied. “Child, you do not need to be so hateful. Your father was a dear friend of mine. I am Archon Vilnius. Perhaps you have heard of me?”

Molotov could feel the anger rise inside. “LIAR……my father hated the Council….you lie! I will burn you all to dust”

Archon Vilnius said “Well child… perhaps there were some things your father choose not to share with you. But he did come to know me well. It was me he turned to after your dear ‘Motherland’ fell.”

Molotov could not believe what she was hearing. Lies, propaganda, the Council was not to be trusted. Why would they say these things? Why?? I want to destroy them all…

Vilnius continued, “Your father wanted nothing more but to have his precious Soviet Union returned. He became rather desperate…and he turned to other means to get what he wanted. Just think…a hero of your people, working with his former enemy. Touching isn’t it?”

Molotov could contain it no longer “Damn you!!!” Molotov attempted to generate flame but as hard as she tried nothing happened.

“Do not strain yourself child,” Vilnius said. “Your bindings prevent you from using your power. You are alone and no one is coming for you.”

“The CCCP will find me,” Molotov said.
Vilnius laughed. “The CCCP is not concerned about you child. They have other problems to deal with. Accept it… you are alone.” Vilnius paused for a moment. “You are with your new family now… it is what your father wanted.”

Molotov closed her eyes and fought to keep the tears from coming. She could not show that she was afraid… and that this man’s words were tearing at her heart. Her father would never work with these people. Her father had been a hero of the Motherland. However, one thing was certain… Molotov was alone…….and she had no idea what she was going to do…..