ᴅᴀʀᴋ ʀᴏꜱᴇ ❀ reverie. + koura

[reverie.]

The enclave of New Jericho had been built on the ruins of the ancient Boston to harbor the God’s chosen some five hundred years ago. Surrounded by decay and standing proud among the ruins of the world long gone, the nascent settlement had grown to become a bastion of hope and faith. Unlike many of its ilk, the city had survived the collapse of the federation and the wars that had followed, growing in size as the devout flocked to its gates. When the world burned, New Jericho flourished. New Jericho had even managed to maintain a resemblance of order during the disastrous gray plague that had laid waste to vast swathes of northern America. Its well-maintained hospitals and laboratories had been able to produce an effective antiretroviral treatment that had kept its citizens safe even as tens of millions perished in agony. With millions of refugees flocking to the East Coast in hopes of cure and salvation, the ruling council had agreed to fortify the city. This was how New Jericho had gained its current shape, the city militia spending a better part of four years constructing two hundred feet tall walls to protect the city. Strict quarantine protocols had been established. No outsiders were allowed into the prosperous city.​ . N A T H A N I E L F  A  U  L  K  N  E  R​   As a result, a vast slum had grown outside the city, untold millions living in hovels without electricity or running water, living on whatever scraps they could scavenge. Some effort was made to provide the outsiders with humanitarian relief — several charities delivered food and other essential supplies to the wretched masses. Yet discontent and anger festered in the slums, the poor and the suffering having a little hope for a better tomorrow. Occasionally the anger flared, violence erupting in the hovels surrounding the city. While the New Jericho militia was quick to quell any such incidents, the dissidents were not without sympathizers. Many youngsters within the city walls were disillusioned with the ruling council and rejected the strict isolationist policies. Such men and women were outlaws, their ideas considered dangerous for the status quo. Many caught helping the outsiders had been either executed or exiled from the city. This onerous duty fell on the shoulders of the Internal Security that protected New Jericho against threats from within.  written by koura ​ . H A Z E L W  A  L  K  E  R ​

 

[reverie.]

❝ Hazel had been so fucking careful these past few months, and yet there she was, in an interrogation room. She'd warned Mason about it at least a hundred times, that one day they would get caught, and when they were, someone would pay. Right now, it seemed as though she was the safest bet. She was the one they were about to interrogate. They'd told her it was just protocol, that everyone had to answer some questions, but Hazel couldn't care less about the others. She was the one who had something to hide - who had done something illegal. She'd been smuggling all sorts of things through the wall, both in and out, for at least three months now. Clothes, weapons, medicine, and most frequently, people. No one had even looked her way - until now. She had told her boyfriend over and over that they were bound to be discovered at some point, but Mason had assured her that she had nothing to worry about. By the time anyone got suspicious, there would be no proof of any wrongdoings. She would be safe. But she wouldn't be sitting in an interrogation room if they didn't have any proof. She wouldn't be sitting there, if she was safe. No, she was so fucking screwed, she just knew it. If only they would have let her make a call first, she could have asked Mason what to say - what to do. But the agents had kept their eyes on her the entire time as they escorted her from the lobby and up to an empty interrogation room. At least they hadn't put her in chains. . . so, perhaps they didn't have any proof, after all. But still, Hazel was no fool. She knew that if Internal Security was involved, it was serious. Internal Security agents didn't mess around. They were extremely good at their jobs, or at least that was what Mason had told her. He had told her stories about people who had crossed paths with them, and they weren't pretty. But Hazel wasn't about to spill her guts. She was determined to make it out of there in one piece, without anyone suspecting her of anything. So, while she waited for the agents to come back, she spent her time wisely, trying to come up with lies and excuses that could be used should they ask her questions about this or that.​

. H A Z E L W  A  L  K  E  R ​

 

[Koura]

. N A T H A N I E L F  A  U  L  K  N  E  R ​

❝ Father Quaestor Nathaniel Faulkner stood by a flickering screen, watching a young woman huddle by a table on her lonesome. He knew the young woman — or at least had known her. He could recall how he had a night by her bed when she had caught a bad cold visiting Lily. How he had handed her a bucket so that she could throw up without making a mess. Hazel had been sixteen back then, so very innocent and full of aspirations. Frowning, Nate reached to fiddle his cufflinks, glancing at the heraldic rose that had been carved into the silver. The icon that identified him as an officer of the Internal Security, meant to remind him of his duty to protect the faithful. He could not fathom what had happened to the girl he had once know so well. Girl that had spent hundreds of nights at his house, playing and giggling with his daughter. Lily and Hazel had been nigh inseparable. Nathaniel sighed, picking up the intercom and paged his senior officer. "I'll take care of miss Walker, Father Censor. We…" he swallowed audibly."... have history. Yes, I know I don't need to. I want to." There was a long pause, Nate listening to the other man." Yes. I understand. God walk with you." That so singular phone call sealed Hazel's fate. Glancing at the ceiling, the quaestor murmured short prayer under his breath. He could not allow evil defile the hallowed city. The wicked had to be found and brought to justice. Walking down the corridor, he found himself musing a verse from the Bible that gave him great comfort when he was called to perform his dour duty. But the wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked. He wondered when Hazel had lost God's grace. When had the innocent and bright-eyes girl had lost the way? How dire were her sins? Did she seek salvation? Nathaniel would need to find answers to all of these questions. Pressing a button to unlock the door, he stepped into the questioning room, clearing his throat. "Miss Walker?" Nate called out, walking to the table and taking a seat, wondering if she had recognized him. "You've done fucked up Peanut." he looked markedly at the young woman. "How in the name of all that is good and holy you ended here."​

 

[reverie.]

❝ Her head turned the moment she heard the door open, and she had to do a double take to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. She could only hope he didn't see the shock on her face as she recognized him. What the fuck was he doing there? And why was he wearing an Internal Security uniform? Him, of all people. At first glance, it looked like she was about to pretend she didn't know him, but when he called her by her childhood nickname, she knew that wouldn't work. "Nate," she greeted, trying to disguise her initial shock. "It's uh - it's been a while." That was an understatement. How long had it been? Five years? Six? She'd never expected to see him again, not after his family moved to New Damascus. But up until that point, she'd spent God knew how much time with the Faulkner family. Nate had basically been a second father to her. And his daughter, Lily, had been her best friend for so many years. But now, Hazel had her own life, her own family. Or at least something that represented a family. Her boyfriend Mason and a few close friends. She'd do anything for them - and she had. Which was why she was sitting there in the first place. She watched him as he took a seat in the chair opposite her, trying to take him in without making it too obvious. He hadn't changed much, save for the uniform and more grey hair on the top of his head. He was still attractive, and still devoted to his religion it seemed. She swallowed hard, before arching her brows at him. "What do you mean?" she asked, playing dumb. She did her best to look puzzled as if she had no idea what he was talking about, but she really didn't. No one had told her what this was truly about. And although she knew she had done something illegal, she didn't know what they had discovered - if they had discovered anything. For all she knew, she had just finished another shift at work and this was just standard protocol. But if there was one certain thing, it was that Hazel was not going to give herself up anytime soon. "Do you know why I'm here?" ​

. H A Z E L W  A  L  K  E  R ​

 

[Koura]

. N A T H A N I E L F  A  U  L  K  N  E  R ​

❝ "A while indeed." Nathaniel replied, bobbing his head. The soft smile he had offered to her withered, storm brewing in his eyes. Fury Hazel had witnesses only once before. Back when someone had rear-ended the car they had been riding, Nate stepping out to sort out the matter. Despite the sheer anger the girls had been witness to, he had not raised his voice. "This is the last place I expected to bump into you." he murmured, glancing around. The young woman could perhaps feel just how frustrated he was. How Nate would have perhaps wanted to be somewhere else, his expression almost pained. Hazel could her a security camera whirring in the background. Even now, she was being watched. Unsure about the young woman, Nathaniel chose his words carefully. "What do I mean?" He looked at the young woman as if she had offended him. "You are smart girl, Peanuts. I think you know what I mean. But if you want to play a game with an old man..." he smirked, shaking his head in disbelief. Time spent in honor of God for the salvation of souls is never badly spent. He could remember the words of Father Michael that had taken him under his wing when he had first joined the Internal Security. The rotund, godly man had a rather nuanced view of mercy. Nathaniel had seen him crush man's kneecap with a sledgehammer, all in the name of saving his immortal soul. “Peanut." He pulled out a blurry printout from his pocket, the picture showing Hazel handing a large green suitcase to another person. "We know exactly what you did." Huffing, he pulled out another picture, laying it on top of the first one. "And how many times you've done it." Third picture soon joined the first two. "We know why you did it." Another picture appearing, the photograph showing an open crate filled with medical supplies. "And we have the evidence." he tapped the pictures, wanting to make sure he had her attention. "I think there's no denying that, Miss Walker." Nathaniel only ever called her like that when she was in trouble. Like when he had once caught Hazel with a pack cigarettes in her pocket. "What we really want..." Reaching into his pockets, the disgruntles quaestor took out his phone and a stylus, tapping the screen a few times. "...is names. Other people involved in your little wicked games." ​

 

[reverie.]

❝ This was the last place she'd expected to jump into him as well. How had he even ended up there? He was supposed to be in New Damascus. But that didn't matter. What mattered was why he was there. She kept her gaze on him, keeping her expression neutral. She didn't have much of a poker face when she was younger, but she certainly did now. Perhaps not the best, but she was able to hide her distress pretty well. Her fear. He might have known her back when she was still a teenager, but a lot had changed since then. She might have relied on his help back then, but now, she could fend for herself. But he was right about one thing; she was smart. "I'm not trying to play games," she said, perhaps a bit harsher than she had intended. A part of her was happy to see him, just. . . not under these circumstances. Her face remained neutral as he laid the picture out in front of her, but something flashed in her eyes when she recognized herself. It was a blurry print, but there was no mistake in her identity. Hazel recognized that green suitcase too, her very first mission. She'd been instructed to make sure it ended up in the right hands, and that the medical supplies hidden inside would make it out of the city. She watched as Nate laid out picture after blurry picture of her handing various items to the same bearded man with a cap. Another suitcase just like the first one, a black duffle bag, something that resembled a framed painting, a small briefcase - they must have gone through all the security footage from the last three months to have found all of these. But what she couldn't wrap her head around was how they'd realized the transfers were illegal. But then he laid down a picture of what was going to be the next transfer and she felt her stomach turn. Hazel stared at the photo of that open crate filled with medical supplies, the one she knew Tom was scheduled to pick up the next morning. She knew this day would come, but she hadn't prepared herself for it. And all the lies and excuses she'd spent the last twenty minutes developing wouldn't help her, because they had proof. She couldn't argue with the evidence. She might be screwed, after all, but the others weren't. When she eventually looked up, she hid her emotions well. Thank God, he couldn't feel or hear her rapid pulse or her beating heart. She knew she'd been caught red-handed, and she was sorry that he was the one to confront her about it. But at least what she'd done was for a good cause. The Rebels had been helping the outsiders for years already, Hazel's new job had just made it easier for them to smuggle things in and out. She didn't know their full operation, only what Mason and the others chose to share with her. "No one," she said, her voice as steady as she could manage. "Just me - no one else." She didn't blink. Blinking used to be a dead giveaway that she was lying, but Hazel had mastered a few things these past few years. Or, she'd gotten better at a few things at least. They might have history, but she was not about to give up all of her friends just because they'd caught her smuggling medical supplies. As of right now, they probably thought that was all she had smuggled - that everything she had handed to Tom was, indeed, medical supplies - and she wanted to keep it that way. "I don't regret it," she added, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms under her breasts. She might look calm and unaffected by the situation, but on the inside, she was freaking out. What exactly would happen to her? Would they cast her out? Unchip her? Kill her? No, Nate would never allow that to happen. She hadn't hurt anyone. "There are people out there who need our help, and somebody has to help them." It wasn't a lie. Hazel had always been grateful for being a citizen, but she'd never really liked how they'd turned their back on the outsiders. Until she met Mason, she hadn't dreamed of helping the Rebels, but she was contributing to their cause. She was not a Rebel herself, but close enough.​

. H A Z E L W  A  L  K  E  R ​

 

[Koura]

. N A T H A N I E L F  A  U  L  K  N  E  R ​

❝ "That's what you are telling me." He almost wanted her to try to explain herself so that he could blow apart her filthy lies. Hazel had been caught red-handed. They had more than enough evidence to make her life hell. "You know well what you have done. You are better than this, Peanuts." Hazel could find God's grace only if she confessed to her sins. As long as the young woman insisted she hadn't done anything illegal or immoral her very soul was in danger. Somewhere deep in his heart, Nate still hoped he could save her. "There's more of these." Nathaniel huffed, tapping the pictures. "Another crate full of contraband that had no right leaving the city." That particular shipment contained radio transmitters along with FPV drones batteries. Equipment any outsider groups scheming an uprising would have loved to get their hands on. "Stuff slipping past the customs. Lots of stuff. There's what, three, four pages of transcripts detailing your collusion.” She could tell he was done with her bullshit, his voice ringing with steel. “We got it all on paper.” Not that the evidence strictly mattered. Hazel would know how the Internal Police had the power to cast people out of the city. "I remember how I had to change the sheets when you wet the bed in our house." he glared at the young woman. "So please, try to be honest with me." Nathaniel was curious to see how Hazel would react, figuring that she might have forgotten that particular incident. She had been rather young after all. "Names Peanuts. I need names." “So much for salvation then.” he murmured, shaking his head as Hazel proclaimed that she had no regrets. “Very well then.” Sighing, the man stood up, running his long fingers through his hair. “We’ll give you a few days to contemplate your choices. Perhaps you’ll come to see reason in time.” Walking past the young woman, he reached to brush the spot on her neck where her chip lay embedded. “You don’t get to decide who deserves what, Peanut. That falls on God and God alone. You would do well to remember that.” A short moment later Hazel could hear the door close, the young woman left alone once more. Sometime later a pair of guards would come to take her to her cell, neither of the two burly women bothering to talk with her. She could feel their contempt as they dragged her along the seemingly endless corridors. ​

 

[reverie.]

❝ Of course she knew what she had done. Had she not just confessed to the crimes he accused her of? And even if she'd tried to deny it, the evidence spoke for itself. But that didn't mean what she had done was wrong. Illegal, yes, but was helping other people truly a crime? It couldn't possibly fall under the same category as murder, could it? Her expression hardened as he spoke as if she wasn't aware of her own actions. "I know what I've done, Nate." Her tone was cold. It almost sounded like she was trying to help him understand that he didn't know her anymore. How could he? They hadn't spoken in six years. But her expression changed when he mentioned that time she had wet herself. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered that embarrassing incident. "I am not a little girl anymore," she snapped. If he couldn't see that, then they had an even bigger problem. "You want names, huh? Write my name. You seem to remember it perfectly well. Hazel Walker." She seemed very pleased with herself, as if she had achieved something by keeping the others out of this, but as he stood and brushed her neck on his way past her, she got a feeling that she hadn’t accomplished anything. "Wait, what? No. . . Nate -" She turned in her seat, her gaze following him as he made his way towards the door. She didn't look as confident now. "What do you mean, a few days? I can't -" She couldn't stay there a few days. Not without getting a hold of Mason. But guards came in to drag her to an empty cell despite her complaints. Tomorrow came and went. And the day after tomorrow. On the third day, Hazel was not only frustrated and impatient but fucking pissed. How much longer before someone would give her answers? Before someone would answer her fucking questions? Because she had asked questions to every guard delivering her food. What is going on? How long do I have to stay here? When can I make a phone call? When can I take a shower? Am I allowed visitors? What will happen to me? Why can't you speak to me? They just pushed the tray through a latch in the door and left. The cell wasn't exactly a hotel room either. A simple bed in one corner, a small desk, and a hard chair in the other. And a toilet in the center, facing the door, with a tiny sink right next to it.. Fucking perfect. She couldn't even pee without risking someone observing her from the small window on the door. And the window on her wall was so high up that she could only see whether it was day or night. She had nothing but herself and her three-day-old clothes to keep her company - along with the bible on the desk, but she hadn't bothered to touch that. Hazel was so accustomed to getting food now, that she didn't recognize that it was the door that had opened before she lifted her head off the pillow to look. She had been lying on the bed with her hands on her stomach, looking at the ceiling, and she didn't bother to move when she saw who it was. Hazel simply adjusted her gaze. "So, now you decide to show up," she said coolly, not even trying to hide her foul mood. "Did you come to check if I'd made myself comfortable?" She snorted. "Or did you finally come to your senses and you’re here to let me go?" She paused briefly before continuing, "Because if it isn't the latter, you can get the fuck out." Hazel was in no mood to have him gloat at her. ​

. H A Z E L W  A  L  K  E  R ​

 

[Koura]

. N A T H A N I E L F  A  U  L  K  N  E  R ​

❝ For the past three days, Nathaniel had spent most free time in prayer. He sought guidance, his soul torn asunder by ghosts of the past. Try as he might, he could not deny the feelings that simmered somewhere in the back of his mind. He had thought he had managed to redeem himself. That all his wicked thoughts laid all in the past. Seeing Hazel's name on the screen of his phone had been enough to stir the hunger that gnawed at his very being. Hunger he had denied many years ago. He was not certain he could deny himself any longer. Many summers had withered in their pride. She was no longer a child. Nathaniel could also feel his duty weighting on him. He was beholden to the people of New Jericho. God had called him to protect the faithful. God wanted to test him, it seemed. He could not turn his back on Hazel just like he could not abandon his duties. Walking to Hazel's cell, Nathaniel turned his eyes towards the heavens, murmuring a prayer to comfort himself. The familiar verse felt like tar in his mouth, Nathaniel having to force himself to mouth the words. He did not doubt his faith, but whether the God in his almighty wisdom could harbor mercy for his wicked soul. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. Old hinged creaked as he pulled open the heavy door, leaning against the door frame. "Morning." he greeted the young woman, his expression cold. Nathaniel never bothered to answer her question. The godly did not need to reason with the heretics. Even if he had been the one to take this particular heretic to the pharmacy when she had first got her period. Nathaniel could still vividly remember just how ashamed she had been. Only because her blood had stained her sheets. "I see." he licked his lips, taking a moment to consider his options. "I see you haven't reconsidered your options." Nathaniel growled, stepping into the cell, the tall man having to duck his head. The building that now housed the Internal Security had once been a bunker built to shelter the devout. "Peanut." Running thin on patience, Nathaniel slammed the door close, a gust of fresh of air washing over the young woman. She was now trapped in a small room with a man she had known since she had been six. A man that she knew as loving father to his only daughter. "You have one more chance." The Quaestor looked markedly at Hazel, crossing his arms. "Names. I want names. Names other than Mason Cantrell." There was no harm letting her know what they knew. She wouldn't be leaving the facility any time soon. ​

 

[reverie.]

❝ As soon as Hazel realized he was not there to let her out, she moved her attention back to the ceiling again. She had absolutely no interest in talking to him, or even looking at him. If this situation had been anything else, she'd love to catch up - she might even ask about Lily - but as long as he was wearing that uniform, as long as he was working against her, she wanted nothing to do with him. She couldn't help him. She refused. There was simply no way she was giving up her friends - her family. And at one point, she had considered him her family. Well, not anymore. "I already told you, Nathaniel," she began, using his full name like she'd done so many times before when she was angry. Or perhaps it was to emphasize that they were no longer acquainted. Certainly, they didn't know each other very well anymore. "I worked alone. It was just me." But even she knew, deep down, that whatever she had pulled off was not a one-man job. In fact, she hadn't really pulled off shit. Hazel had just followed orders. She was not the mastermind behind this scheme. She wasn't even a Rebel. At least not officially. But Mason. . . Mason was. So when he said Mason's name, fear flickered in her eyes. She sat up, bending her knees as she did so while trying her best to disguise the panic growing inside of her. "Mason has nothing to do with this," she lied, her voice firm but perhaps not very convincing. She shook her head a little, looking over at him while a faint, disappointed smile spread across her lips. "Do you really think I'd drag the man I love into this mess?" More lies. She had not dragged Mason into anything, it was the other way around entirely. "How stupid do you think I am?" she asked him, her tone dry and challenging. But as soon as those words left her mouth, she realized she didn't want to know the answer. Because, even if she had managed to pull this off all by herself, what she had done was still pretty fucking stupid. ​

. H A Z E L W  A  L  K  E  R ​

 

[Koura]

. N A T H A N I E L F  A  U  L  K  N  E  R ​

❝ Nathaniel's shoulders slumped, the old man closing his eyes for a moment. He had hoped that Hazel would come to her senses. That she would confess to the sins she had committed. Instead the young woman remained defiant, spewing filthy lies. Righteous anger flared in his chest. "May Lord have mercy on your soul, Hazel." the old man murmured, slowly raising his gaze, his dark eyes seeking out hers. Mercy belonged to the repentant. Hazel had condemned herself with with her words. Her soul cried for salvation, her mortal flesh tainted by sin. "For I have none." Stepping close, he grabbed her hair, yanking hard as he pushed her against the concrete. "You have no idea." Letting go of her hair, Nate reached for his taser and pressed it against her belly. Allowing the young woman no warning, he pressed the trigger. Two metal darts sank into Hazel's skin, electricity running through her body, her legs suddenly too weak to support her frame even as her tortured muscles contracted and retracted without rhyme or reason. Stepping back, he allowed Hazel to fall on the floor, Nathaniel's eyes full of righteous fury. "Repent." he demanded, stomping down on her, the heavy heel of his boot connecting with her belly. Nathaniel smiled as Hazel cried out. He would perform the rite of mortification for her. He would cleanse her soul so that she could see the light once more. So that he could have the answers he needed. "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and there is no truth in us." the incensed Quaestor began to recite a verse, pausing to deliver another brutal kick to her side. "But if we confess our sins to God, he will keep his promise and do what is right: he will forgive us our sins and purify us from all our wrongdoing." Dropping the taser, Nathaniel wrapped his fingers around her curls, he pulled the small woman up. "If we say that we have not sinned, we make a liar out of God, and his word is not in us." His voice remained soft and mellow even as he his fist pummeled into her belly. "Peanut." Pulling her up, Nathaniel pressed his face to hers, his nose brushing against hers. "I want names." he told her, is tone still calm and composed. "And you will give them to me. All of them." Huffing, he pushed her away, the young woman stumbling against the toilet seat even as he sought to regain her footing. Nathaniel was far from done with his prisoner. ​

​