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As dawn broke on the small cliffside, the teenage girl stood on the tips of her toes and reached up to a rope. It was hanging from the branch of a long dead tree, surprisingly able to support the weight of the body attached to the rope. With a shard of glass from the bottle that had been smashed against her head hours before, she went about cutting the rope.
Ignoring the pain in her hand and the blood that had started dripping from her palm, she sawed the rope, until it was finally thin enough that her boyfriend’s weight snapped it, and the body fell to her feet. The girl knelt next to him and pulled him into her lap, clutching his head to her chest.
“Wes…” she muttered. The cold, lifeless body in her arms did not respond.
She wanted to cry but all of her tears had been wept during the night. She spent the dark hours pinned to the ground and could only watch as the boy was beaten and strung up like an ornament on a tree, stolen from her like he had stolen her heart.
These men had strung Wes because of the color of his father’s skin. But Perla was the same. Her father was dark, but her mother and her were light. She wanted to tell those horrible men that in the hopes that it would make them leave. They’re problem was with a black guy dating a white girl, but she was just as white as Wes. The men thought she was lying.
As much as the girl blamed those awful men, she knew their attack wasn’t random. She knew someone had sent them after the two young lovers. The men mentioned who was ultimately responsible for this pain and suffering: her own brother.
Gently, she slid her deceased boyfriend back to the ground, and stood up. With determined steps, she began to make her way towards the cliff.
“Perla!” Her heart stopped and she turned around, believing it was her Wes that called her name. His body had not moved. She continued her walk into oblivion.
“Perla, wait!” Another teenage boy had just arrived to the scene to find a tragedy. He hurried down to the flat part of the cliffside where the two youths spent a miserable night. A horrible feeling in his stomach called him to this spot, and he regretted coming at all.
“Perla!” He ran after his sister, only sparing a glance at the long lost twin brother who laid lifeless.
As he tried to catch up to the girl, he thought, This isn’t my fault. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just wanted to break them up, I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.
The boy’s legs weren’t fast enough, and his words weren’t loud enough to reach his sister’s ears.
As Perla stepped over the edge, the boy felt a pain in his side. He glimpsed down at the arrow head that had lodged itself in his side. He pulled it out and inspected it halfheartedly.
Then he heard a deep, familiar voice.
“You can’t save them, but you can save their memories.”
The boy turned around and shoved the arrow back into his pocket. A strange figure appeared, it wore a mask that extended into a crown and appeared to have writing all over its skin. It was human in appearance but seemed completely inhuman. It tapped Wes’s head, and a disc slid out. The figure picked up the disc, and held it out to the boy as it stepped forward. The boy backed away from it, reciting Bible verses in his head until his feet reached the cliff’s edge.
“Stay back, demon!”
The figure chuckled, “I am not a demon, Enrico Pucci. I am your will personified, given form by the arrow when it pierced you. My name is Whitesnake, and I exist to carry out your will.”
All the stories he heard of demons arising to tempt men ran through the boy’s head.
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because you’re not the only one given this power by the arrow.” The figure approached him, and Enrico braced himself, expecting to be thrown off. However, Whitesnake merely pointed over the edge, “Look.”
He took his eyes off of the figure to look down the cliff, and saw Perla. Her body had not hit the water yet, and instead her fall had been slowed immensely by a strange figure. Then, right before his very eyes, the girl started to come back up, as if God himself had decided that she had yet another day to live. He watched in disbelief as the figure carried her over his head with a gust of wind, and landed her on the ground next to Wes.
Enrico ran to his unconscious sister and knelt by her side, touching her face. Perla’s skin was wet from the spray of the water, but he still felt life in her cheeks.
The girl’s eyes flinched, and she muttered, “Am I dead?”
“No, thank the Lord, you’re alright!”
Her eyes snapped open, and the hatred behind her glare was more immense than he could imagine. He was hit by a blast of wind that blew him away from her, and he would have gone off the cliff had Whitesnake not grabbed him.
“How could you?” She shouted as she got up, her voice sounded hoarse from her crying all night. The figure that had carried Perla before hovered behind her. Now that he could see it clearly, it looked almost like a candle. It’s head and hands looked like flames, and its neck and arms were thin and threaded like a wick. Its waist seemed made of bronze and had a handle sticking out the side. It’s torso and legs were white and reminded him of wax. Wind circled around Perla, whipping her skin and hair in all directions.
“Wes is dead and it’s all your fault!” She doubled over as she yelled, as if she was putting her whole being into her words. Her face was twisted in agony, and her thin hands were clenched into fists.
“No, Perla, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen!”
“Why? Why did you do this?”
Enrico tried to approach his sister, but the wind kept him from getting too close. It was like a Biblical scene: the wind surrounding a couple, one dead on the ground, and the other angry and grieving, a figure like a guardian angel perched among them, and the sinner trying to approach to console the one left alive.
“Wes is my twin brother, which makes him your brother as well.” She didn’t respond, so he added, “You were dating your brother!”
“Liar! Your twin died!”
“No, a woman came to confession, and I was the only one there to hear her. Her child was born the day I was and in the same hospital as me, and her child died. She swapped him with one of a set of twins. That was Wes’s mother. Wes is really Domenico!”
“Then why didn’t you just tell me?” she screamed, the force of the wind increased, and Enrico was finding it hard to breath.
“I wanted to but I didn’t know how.”
“So you hired hitmen to break us up. Men that murdered him for dating me when his father is black!”
Deeper dread settled into Enrico’s soul, and he stammered, “P-P-Perla, I-”
“I’ve heard enough,” Perla turned her back to him, “Thanks to you, my heart has been turned to stone, and I can no longer feel love. Not even for our parents, and definitely not for you, my dear brother.” Her voice was bitter as she addressed him.
After a moment of silence, Perla said, “I’m going to bring this world to an end. As long as Wes no longer draws another breath, neither will anyone else.”
The air was ripped from Enrico’s lungs, and the world went silent.
Enrico collapsed on the ground, the only sound he could hear was his gasping. He reached for his sister with one hand, and was clutching his throat with the other.
Perla began to walk away, birds dropping from the sky in her wake. She was like a Horseman of the Apocalypse, a harbinger of the end.
Enrico heard Whitesnake’s voice although he didn’t see the figure’s mouth move, “She’s not going to stop until everyone is dead! You’re the only one that can end this!”
Enrico just looked at the figure.
“You know what you have to do, just give the order already!” Whitesnake continued.
Enrico nodded, and it moved. The figure ran and managed to get through the whirlwind. With a simple touch, a disc popped out of Perla’s head and the wind ceased. Whitesnake caught her as she collapsed. Enrico felt the air flood back into his lungs and could hear the distant waves once again.
He barely waited to catch his breath before trying to run to his sister, stumbling all the way. Setting the girl on the ground, Whitesnake handed Perla and Wes's discs to Enrico.
Taking them from the figure, Enrico asks, “Will she be alright?”
“Who knows? I removed her memories, I have no idea how that’ll affect someone. The only thing I know is that if you give them back, she’ll just go right back to that vengeful state.”
After a moment of silence, Whitesnake continues, “What are you going to do?”
Pulling the arrow out of his side, Enrico thinks about the stranger in the church. If it weren't for that man, he wouldn’t have been hit by the arrow and his sister wouldn’t have had to lose her memories. But if it weren’t for him, his sister would be dead.
Enrico stood among his broken siblings, once again chosen by fate to remain intact among all the tragedy. He used to think the same of him being the twin to survive, but doubted it after finding out his twin was actually alive. But he was still chosen by fate to be the one not taken, and because of that he was the one standing there.
Finally, the boy responds, “I have someone to find.”