"The Ghost of Christmas Past" - a spoiler
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"The Ghost of Christmas Past" - a spoiler
by Captain Indigo » Sat Dec 17, 2005 12:35 am
I wouldn't normally do this, being the shy, retiring individual that I am (:wink:), but it seemed such a shame to waste a perfectly good cliffhanger...
She turned up the collar of her thick uniform coat against the biting December wind as she gazed up at the church, elegantly moonlit on this dark, clear night. The place had been one of the few places she had been able to turn throughout her career, despite the fact that she had never been a God-fearing person. This place had been a sanctuary away from the pressures of home, somewhere she could escape from the rest of the world for a few hours, even back in the early days, when the world discovered the terrible truth about their extra-terrestrial enemies. Her secret had been passed down through the priests who had led the parish since that day, so that she never needed to fear meeting a new one and explaining her situation over again whenever she felt the urge to leave her real life for a brief time, and speak to someone away from the military. Gravel that gleamed white in the moonlight crunched beneath her boots as she approached the sanctuary.
Father O’Connell looked up from his task of removing burned candles as he heard the doors open. A small figure in a heavy, dark military overcoat and matching boots entered and looked down the rows of pews for him.
“Welcome, Major,” he greeted her, instantly recognising her unique eyes, glowing slightly in the darkened area at the back of the church. He abandoned his box of tea lights and moved to meet the woman in the aisle. As he drew closer, and she moved into the light, he could clearly see her young face flushed with the cold, but troubled and conflicted.
“Is there anything I can help you with tonight, my child?” he asked her automatically, cursing himself even as he uttered the word ‘child’. He knew that the youthful countenance before him, framed by short jet-black hair flattened beneath a Spectrum officer’s cap, was misleading – although she looked around seventeen, this woman was much older.
“I apologise for the late hour, Father,” she said, her voice betraying British roots, although she had spoken with a clear American accent when they had first met. O’Connell now knew that the accent had been affected, but he was not certain exactly what her native tongue was; although always interpreted by his Universal Translator, she had spoken in French, Russian and even the ancient Irish language that his mother had preferred to use, ‘lest it die out completely’. All had seemed to have perfect intonation too; there was no trace of the mispronunciation that the UT somehow managed to convey in its translations.
“Will you hear my confession?” she continued, oblivious to the thoughts suddenly running though the priest’s head.
O’Connell frowned for a moment. This was something that she had never once asked to do before, although he knew that his predecessor had once heard her Confess. Once.
“Certainly, Major,” he replied, sweeping his hand towards the ancient Confession box.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” Indigo recited with her eyes closed, recalling the words that she had learned so many years ago. She was not Catholic, but sometimes she liked to have the counsel of someone outside the organisation and the opportunity to get things off of her chest. Father O’Connell was a wonderful listener, one of her favourites in fact. Normally she spoke with him in the church, but this, she felt, required the formality and secrecy of the Confessional. “It has been… um… seventy-four years since my last confession.
Seventy-four years would take it back to the early days of Father Maguire’s tenure – and before Father O’Connell’s birth! I really must stop calling her ‘child’, he reminded himself sharply.
“Thirty-six years ago,” Indigo continued, her voice shaking slightly, “I killed my father.”
She turned up the collar of her thick uniform coat against the biting December wind as she gazed up at the church, elegantly moonlit on this dark, clear night. The place had been one of the few places she had been able to turn throughout her career, despite the fact that she had never been a God-fearing person. This place had been a sanctuary away from the pressures of home, somewhere she could escape from the rest of the world for a few hours, even back in the early days, when the world discovered the terrible truth about their extra-terrestrial enemies. Her secret had been passed down through the priests who had led the parish since that day, so that she never needed to fear meeting a new one and explaining her situation over again whenever she felt the urge to leave her real life for a brief time, and speak to someone away from the military. Gravel that gleamed white in the moonlight crunched beneath her boots as she approached the sanctuary.
Father O’Connell looked up from his task of removing burned candles as he heard the doors open. A small figure in a heavy, dark military overcoat and matching boots entered and looked down the rows of pews for him.
“Welcome, Major,” he greeted her, instantly recognising her unique eyes, glowing slightly in the darkened area at the back of the church. He abandoned his box of tea lights and moved to meet the woman in the aisle. As he drew closer, and she moved into the light, he could clearly see her young face flushed with the cold, but troubled and conflicted.
“Is there anything I can help you with tonight, my child?” he asked her automatically, cursing himself even as he uttered the word ‘child’. He knew that the youthful countenance before him, framed by short jet-black hair flattened beneath a Spectrum officer’s cap, was misleading – although she looked around seventeen, this woman was much older.
“I apologise for the late hour, Father,” she said, her voice betraying British roots, although she had spoken with a clear American accent when they had first met. O’Connell now knew that the accent had been affected, but he was not certain exactly what her native tongue was; although always interpreted by his Universal Translator, she had spoken in French, Russian and even the ancient Irish language that his mother had preferred to use, ‘lest it die out completely’. All had seemed to have perfect intonation too; there was no trace of the mispronunciation that the UT somehow managed to convey in its translations.
“Will you hear my confession?” she continued, oblivious to the thoughts suddenly running though the priest’s head.
O’Connell frowned for a moment. This was something that she had never once asked to do before, although he knew that his predecessor had once heard her Confess. Once.
“Certainly, Major,” he replied, sweeping his hand towards the ancient Confession box.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” Indigo recited with her eyes closed, recalling the words that she had learned so many years ago. She was not Catholic, but sometimes she liked to have the counsel of someone outside the organisation and the opportunity to get things off of her chest. Father O’Connell was a wonderful listener, one of her favourites in fact. Normally she spoke with him in the church, but this, she felt, required the formality and secrecy of the Confessional. “It has been… um… seventy-four years since my last confession.
Seventy-four years would take it back to the early days of Father Maguire’s tenure – and before Father O’Connell’s birth! I really must stop calling her ‘child’, he reminded himself sharply.
“Thirty-six years ago,” Indigo continued, her voice shaking slightly, “I killed my father.”
'The road to hell is paved with frozen door-to-door salesmen. On weekends, many of the younger demons go ice-skating on them.'
Caption Game results.
Webmaster of the Supermarionation Forever.
Caption Game results.
Webmaster of the Supermarionation Forever.
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Captain Indigo
- Cloudbase Captain
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by Marion » Sun Dec 18, 2005 6:50 pm
He-he-he-he; that's wicked, Captain Indigo! Mind you, I'm okay - I'm doing the beta-read 
and I can assure you, it's worth waiting for... Oops, better get back to my job!
A disinclination to sparkle...
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Marion
- Cloudbase Captain
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by Sage » Sun Dec 18, 2005 7:07 pm
Ooh so exciting.
Very well written, interesting premise too.
Can't wait to read it now.
Very well written, interesting premise too.
Can't wait to read it now.
Critics are like eunuchs in a harem; they know how it's done, they've seen it done every day, but they're unable to do it themselves.
Brendan Behan
My fanfic100 table
Brendan Behan
My fanfic100 table
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Sage
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