Conscience of a Dove

Lance took a deep and satisfying breath, as if he hadn't tasted air in a while, and opened his eyes from his prayer. Things seemed brighter now, much more alive and vibrant. God had a way of lifting Lance up. He didn't care about anyone else but Lance, while at the same time caring just as much for everyone else as He did for Lance. It was a strange thing to ponder, love as deep as the Fathers. Even so, it was soothing to his injured and maimed soul. It tended to every rip and tear that it had suffered in his life, repairing it with a soft and careful care. It reminded him of his purpose in life. That he HAD a purpose in life. To do good to others, rather than himself. To stop being so selfish by weeping over his lost family, and to take action instead; by caring for and protecting others who had lost loved ones as well.

Grabbing his spoon like a knife, Lance eyeballed the steaming potion of carbohydrates that sat before him. Taking in every detail, he speared the soup and quickly drew a bite into his mouth. Closing his eyes with a deep and profound satisfaction, he began to make nummy sounds.....in a very loud, and embarrassing way. Lost in flavor, Lance accelerated his eating pace, wolfing down bite after bite with the table manners of a barbarian. Finally, taking a break for air, Lance gasped as he downed his last mouthful. Looking at Alice, he threw up a heartily supportive "thumbs up". Without a word, he continued to devour the meal, filling his pitifuly empty stomach with sorely needed nutrients.
 
Her head popped up and she gave a warm smile to Alice, before taking her bowl in her hands. Wren had realized how hungry she was once more upon looking at the fine stew. She rose her spoon to the sky energetically, spouting a "Thank you for the food!" She then proceeded to scoop up the food, savoring the first bite before digging into it like a famished holocaust victim.
 
Alice picked up her own bowl, flicking on the Tv before digging in. She had outdone herself, but perhaps that was because she wasn't just cooking for herself. She ate more slowly, savoring the spices and meat chunks. She stopped midbite, noticing Lance's already empty bowl. She sighed. "Don't eat so fast or you'll get a stomach ache," She growled, "Get more if you're really that hungry." She went back to eating, directing her attention to the weather report that warned her of approaching stroms.
 
Just as Alice made a comment suggesting something about stomach aches, Lance bellowed forth a belch of an epic magnitude, resting his hands on his slightly distended abdomen. Standing up quickly and retrieving his bowl, Lance looked at the weather report that was on. He grunted as it foretold grim and foreboding weather, striding towards the kitchen sink. Turning on the faucet, he wetted the washcloth, wiping out the small residue that was left from the stew. Setting out a small dish towel to dry the bowl on, he turned the water off, turning the bowl upside down and setting it down to let the water drain. Stretching a bit, Lance glanced over at the shiny new combat boots that Alice had been so kind as to order for him.

Clearing his throat, Lance asked, "Hey Alice, know any good places that a clean and well-fed individual who no longer looks like a run-down bum can go for a walk around this place? I'd like to go introduce myself to those new boots." Waiting for a reply, Lance slipped quietly back into the kitchen, retrieving a sharp kitchen knife from the knife block. He had work to do. Answers to find. People to punish. But the girls didn't need to know about any of that.
 
Alice looked over the couch, eyes narrowed. "Don't cause trouble for me, Lance," She said quietly, "This isn't a place where you can just stroll around like you're in a park. You know that. Now get some more stew and sit down, it's too late to go out anyway." True, it was well past seven and only a fool would go out in a place like this after seven passed. Besides, Alice didn't want him going anywhere. Even if she was here to watch her, Wren would worry non-stop if she thought Lance was in trouble. It's best that he stayed until morning.
 
Clenching his teeth in frustration, Lance edged back towards the knife block, slipping the "borrowed" blade back into its place. This is why he had felt so vulnerable when he first stepped foot through the door. This was a place where chaos and disorder, which had governed Lances life since the incident, were stuffed into the neat and organized box of structure. Freedom became confined and seldom. Sighing deeply, Lance gave a curt reply. "What would make you think that I would ever get the slightest idea of causing trouble? I'm a good little boy! One who eats his vegetables and asks politely for a bed time story before sleeping." Rolling his eyes at his own sarcasm, Lance shuffled over to the couch and plopped down next to Alice, staring mundanely at the television. "Which I'm going to expect from you tonight, seeing as the boogeyman might get me if I go outside."

"It was just a rumor...." Lance thought to himself, attempting to swat away the swarm of conspiracy that had welled up inside of his mind. "There's no way she's still alive! I saw the blood and fire with my own eyes." A flash of worry passed through his emerald eyes. A sliver of doubt cut through his calm and collect nature, as easy as a knife would cut through butter. A small ray of light pierced through the dark clouds that enveloped his heart, shining into his eyes with a brilliance that he couldn't ignore. What if, no matter how small the chance......what if it had been more than just a rumor?
 
Finished eating, Wren sat the bowl in her lap, looking up with a slightly tilted head. She chimed into the conversation. "Who's 'the boogeyman?'"
 
"He's a fake," Alice told Wren, "A monster that is used to scare children. He is said to live under your bed, waiting to drag you under as soon as you start to sleep. But if he had the guts to step into my domain, I'd punch him right in the face and send him crying to his mother." She remembered when, as a child, her babysitter's boyfriends had dressed up like the boogeyman and terrorified her until she was sobbing uncontrollably. In her defense, she had only been three, but she's had a seething hatred for the boogeyman ever since she had recalled the moment after she had gotten older. She would beat him black and blue if he got into her range.
 
She blinked at Alice blankly for a moment, before looking as if she had struck an amazing idea. "What if the boogeyman is just scared to come out, so he pulls you under there so he can have a friend to be with? He could be a good monster!"
 
Alice paused for a second, stricken by the idea. "There is no such thing as a good monster, Wren," She said, looking hard at her empty bowl, "Monsters are evil, vile, cruel, and have hearts filled to the brim with darkness. To be good would be to be against their own nature. Even if they wished it, a monster cannot be good." Alice was filled with an aching sadness, one so ancient, for a second, she thought it would consume her. I can't be good. Monsters are monsters for a reason.
 
She thought to argue for a moment, looking off before turning her head back to Alice, her bright blue eyes staring determinedly at her. "Then.. maybe he's not a monster. Maybe he only looks like one. You can call a perfectly good person a monster, because you don't really know them. That's probably why he hides under there, he's afraid of someone calling him that again. I bet if someone got to know him he would be good on the inside."
 
Alice laughed, long, loud, and clear. She jumped on Wren, introducing her to the noogie. Then proceeded to tickle her mercilessly. Those are the words of a child who knows not of the ways of this world. No one could be more of a monster than you. You can't deny your evil. You can't fight your own instincts. She hasn't seen the real you, yet.
 
She let out a surprised squeal as she had been overtaken by Alice, falling into writhing fits of giggles against her attack of tickles, falling to her side on the couch.

(I can't take that phrase seriously, "attack of tickles". xD)
 
Smiling, Alice relently, perhaps, feeling a little better. "Oi, Lance, ready for your bedtime story?" She asked, "I've got a good one, if you and Wren want to hear it...." She sat up, muting the Tv, and giving a satisfied stretch.
 
"Ah!" She sat up quickly and leaned in to listen, interested. "What's it about?"
 
"It's a story from the time of old about a beautiful princess and a dark demon," Alice said, mysteriously, "When demons, spirits, and powers where as common as the rain."
 
Settling back into the couch with a heavy sigh, Lance held his hands together like an excited child, eyes wide in mock enthrallment. Smirking, he revealed a set of surprisingly sharp teeth. "Oh boy! If I was any more riveted, you'd have to pry me off of this couch with several spatulas and a crowbar." Though he said this in a joking tone, Lance was actually looking hard and deep into Alices eyes, giving her a knowing look. Showing her that he could see the darkness within her that she was hiding, behind all of her defenses. A darkness that was practically pouring out of her like water and flooding the room with desperate cries for escape. The very darkness that had brought her so very close to the sweet and innocent Wren, burning a fierce desire to protect her into Alices heart. The details of her past didn't matter. Oh no, most certainly not. This was a darkness that he could relate to.

Looking over at Wren, Lance immediately reverted his eyes back to their excited child wideness. "How 'bout you Wren? Are you as excited as me for storytime? Who knows? We might even get a happy ending! One where the princess ends up falling in love with the boogeyman under her bed, telling everyone he's not a monster and that she's making him her prince." Looking back to Alice with a silly smile, Lance rested his chin on his hands with expectancy.
 
Alice raised an eyebrow. "The demon was a girl," She said bluntly, a bit offended.
 
Lance dipped his head in apology, like a respectful cowboy would in one of those old westerns. "My mistake ma'am. But in my own defense, I never done heard this story afore, so I wasn't keen to such facts. I beg your pardon, and hope I won't get kicked out of the story circle for my error." Lance settled his head back into his hands. He was actually eager to hear this story. After all.....Alice was one of the main characters.
 
( Stop ruining ma story!)

Alice narrowed her eyes at Lance. "Then sit back and be quiet," She growled, "It's more for Wren than you, anyway."
 
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