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Vaughn Davis (shebringscurses) wrote in bellumlogs,

She was sitting in the dark, weighing her thoughts before the flicker of a single candle's flame. This was the second day of her new life in Bellum, but Vaughn hadn't jumped onto the forum or scoured the halls. She didn't smoke in the stairwell, she didn't exist to the rest of the building yet. There was no reason to rush things. No, this new trickery could not be rushed or hastened. This new plague would flow, musically. Perfectly. Divinely. Absolutely, absolutely wonderfully.

Jane's face had been easy to remember. The librarian from the fourth floor had been as permanently ingrained in the crevices of her memory as Daniel himself. As Ella, as Boyd, as any of the ruiners...

But she wasn't worried about them right now. She wasn't even worried about Daniel. She wasn't worried at all, in this moment she felt so wonderfully empty that nothing disturbed her.

The new apartment, 405, was hardly furnished yet. Vaughn tried to think of what a librarian might bring to her living space and had come up with very few ideas. Books? Reading lamps? Cardigan sweaters? Vaughn had gotten the books from discount shops, a hundred titles plucked from suggestion of the store owners. There were no shelves yet, so they cluttered the corners of her empty apartment. The only furniture thus far was a small table, with it's one candle, and it's one chair, where Vaughn Jane sat. She'd read some things about Jane from Boyd's stolen diary, but that hardly gave the full impression of a person. There were secrets she did not know, and memories she did not know. Words, feelings.. all unknown.

But Vaughn was unperturbed by what she lacked. Somewhere inside of her hummed the keen, animalistic knowledge that this plan was perfect in every way. That nothing would ruin it. That the only thing she'd let come between her and failure was death itself.

She stood from the table, and while advancing across the floor toward the skinny hallway, she heard her clock chime midnight. When she stepped through the doorway of her bedroom, it was not her bedroom she saw.

The interior of the church was enough to freeze her on the spot. The pews with their vacant, unfocused faces. Her attention fell to the fabric under her fingers. White silk and taffeta formed a dress that made her eyes, from behind that thin and lacy veil, widen. When one of the guests spoke, she glanced back up with a sharp and wary leveling of her eyes from behind the veil before pushing it back from her hair completely. "No.."