GOLDEN AGE | ON HIATUS

V | FINN

[ 05 ]

PANDORA'S BOX had been opened, it seemed, as they entered her room. Decks of cards were sprayed everywhere, a stray Joker resting on the caseless pillow, a nine of Spades tucked between the space behind the one chair, just poking out. The motel room itself must've been already dirty, but it seemed that Pandora's presence alone had plunged her surroundings into a chaos that was almost unbelievable. Finn wondered how long it had taken to accumulate such a mess, or whether it hadn't been her, though a sneaking suspicion indicated otherwise.

Judging by what he'd heard from her so far, it really wasn't out of the realm of possibility for her madness to have spilled out so far, soaking into Pandora's outside along with her insides. Perhaps he'd misunderstood them, given his evidently dumb mind, yada yada - he hoped that he misunderstood them, because spending the night with a crazy card girl certainly wasn't and had never been on his bucket list. It was quickly becoming clearer that Pandora was not the girl's real name, though it fit her perfectly. Not many parents would want to call their child after the first human that brought chaos to Earth.

But, after all, not many parents would leave their daughter to rot in a motel room with nothing but a few stacks of cards to keep her company.

"You tell me to be at ease, Scarlet. I can't sleep, you know."

Lying on the bed with her back to them, Finn had been so immersed in their surroundings that he'd forgotten Pandora was even there. When he looked closer at the walls, he realised that there were streaks of blood all over the beige paint. More and more questions built up in his head, until he was just staring at her in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth pursed into a tight line.

At last, he mumbled a question. "What's your name?" An involuntary flush spread over his cheeks as Narcissa cast him an impervious half-smile, her face oddly pale without its usual dark red lipstick.

Turning around, Pandora cast him a strange look, her face looking as if it were glowing from the inside. Eyebrows raised, she let out a small hmph. "No-one has ever asked me that before, Midas." Her amethyst gaze swung over to Narcissa, whose expression was that of cold indignance, her lip curling.

"I don't need to ask. I know," she snarled, dark eyes flashing threateningly. "Lysandra Lailey, born in the pig sty that is East Semper. Your parents threw you out as a kid when you started screaming and scratching the walls. They were religious, but bad people. Thought you were possessed or some shit." Sitting back, the chair squeaked miserably, a rusted stray spring peeking through.

A smug grin tugged at her lips.

For a moment, Pandora - Lysandra, rather - was silent, evidently shellshocked, before her mouth split open and she began to scream. Looking over at Narcissa, Finn forced himself to remain calm, taking several deep breaths that filled his lungs with musty, stale air. He decided to help, noting Narcissa's indifference. Though she was raking at the wall, Lysandra wasn't doing much more, apart from screaming. No thrashing, no fighting. It would be easy to stop her - perhaps that was why Narcissa was doing nothing.