Title: Forbidden Truths

Author: Heather

Email: HeatherCal@aol.com

Rating: PG-13

Content Warning: Not to bad, a little weird, and violent maybe. Julian is a bit more evil in my series. But I liked him more evil. LOL He still loves Jenny of course. :-)

Summery: Forbidden Game, in the future of '99 Julian comes back, although not as nice as before.

Spoilers: Forbidden Game Series

Authors Notes: Since I got good feedback on my FG poem I decided to send a FG story I started about 4 years ago. :-) BTW This is from first person point of view, so the "I" is Jenny.

If I don't get feedback I'm quitting the story! 'Cus I'm assuming you don't like it. :-) Just fair warning.

Disclaimer: All characters found in the FG series are LJ Smith's. The poem used in this story is called "When You Are Old" by William Yeats. No copywright infrindments intended.

Part one: No Way Out

~~~~~~~~~~~

 I  sat  there  for hours in that room. It was  part  of  his punishment.  The never ending void of darkness seemed to  consume my soul and my tortured feverish eyes never wondered to far  down that dark tunnel, in fear of what lay beyond that black archway. The only movement in the room were the rats and my labored breathing.

The rat's red beady eyes glowed from the yawning blackness. They still follow me now after all  these  years. Their black fury body's brushing my  legs and their  claws  scampering and echoing through my mind. I  must  be insane, the black cobwebs veil my thoughts and capture any  good dreams I have left in it's sticky webs.

I can hear his  footsteps echo  through the passage ways. He's still trying to find me . His torturous  cries bounce off the walls, and yet still he does  not find me. He said he loved me, that he came back for me, but his love was sick, and twisted into ungodly  evil. I hide in this passageway as dark as hell and  prey he doesn't find me. For now I must wait and tell my tale.

I was a pretty 22 year old back then young and naive. It was the  year 1999 and the hustle and bustle of San. Francisco was at it's usual rate. It was high noon and the sun was blistering hot. My  clothes stuck to my skin in the sticky uncomfortable heat.  It was July, and although it rarely got above 75 we had recently had a horrific heat wave. I walked down the street I had passed through for the past four years of my life. It was the main street of Post  and  Main.  

Homeless people surrounded  me  there  pleading voices begging for money to buy their poor hungry souls. I remember once when I was a very little girl my mother had taken me to San Francisco on a vacation, a homeless man had come up to  me  with a toothless grin and asked if such a  pretty  little girl  had any spare change, it had scared me and I had ran  to  my mother and clutched onto her loose skirts. Ever since then I  had felt  no emotion toward these men and women of the homeless.  The fear  as  a  child made me resent them.

I remembered, as I walked  toward  the building I worked at as a Kindergarten teacher, that a very unusual clown had intervened my  path. I remember his eyes seemed to glow a reddish yellow, I must of made some sort of whimper, because the clown's red  mouth broke into a huge grin.

"There, there lady Drew the clown  wouldn't hurt a pretty lady, would you like a balloon pretty lady?"  

I mumbled  no  and walked by as quickly as I could  but  not  quick enough  for the clown grabbed my wrist.

"Oh COME on  pretty  lady take the balloon it's a special present from me to you, you  want it  don't YOU!"

At the word "you" a bright light flashed before  my eyes.  I  was  lost somewhere in the woods. It  was  autumn.  The leaves shimmered in the afternoon sunlight which filtered through the  trees. The reds, gold's, and browns reminded me of an  amusement park full of colorful rides and the sweet innocent  laughter of children, as they ate there caramel apples, and cotton  candy. I shuddered, amusement parks, I had no good memories of them. I looked down, and found I was in a white lacy dress which floated around me from the cool autumn wind. The wind whistled through the tree top and to me it sounded like the tortured shriek of animal. A man was there. Looking about  24 or 25 his hair was the color of candlelight, his eyes like a gas stove,  and his body was hard and build in the right  proportions. He  wore a top hat a loose white shirt and cape and black  pants. It was old fashioned. I never thought I would have to see, hear from this man again.

"Hello Jenny, I've been waiting for you."

"Julian."

He flashed a quick smile and gave a mock bow and spoke. "Deja vu"

He then looked up at me and winked.

I must of stared at him for what felt like about an hour before  I laughed  in  his face. It was not a good idea to laugh at  a  man with unearthly beauty, who could bring you to a world most people have never seen before. I of course have seen it one too many times.

His eyes grew even darker then what was possible.  "Don't mock me Jenny. I want manners and respect from a bright beautiful woman  like you. I would think you would know better then to  laugh at what I am.

"And what are you this time?" I hear myself ask even though I  really don't  wish to know, after all I had reached the conclusion  that this really was not happening. It was just a dream and not a very pleasant one at that. After all Julian was supposed to be dead. Not standing here talking to me.

"Do we have to go over this again? I thought you knew by now", he smiled quickly, "Besides, I got tired of waiting for the right time. So I decided to take you now. Again." He seemed to be staring at me, waiting for my comment on the situation.

"Okay, I thought that you had changed your mind about this whole evil thing... I mean you saved the lives of me and my friends. Um you let me go, set me free. This doesn't make any sense."

"I've changed my mind" he stated it simply without any hesitation.

 I ponder this for a moment wondering why I am so calm. "Okay, so let me get this straight. You're planning on kidnapping me and my friends again?"

He raised one perfect eyebrow. "No, just you."

"Ummm. Okay, I um, got to go." I still didn't understand why I was so calm. I guess it was because at the time I was so determined it was a dream. At that moment I felt inspired to reach out and touch his cloak.

"NO!" He screamed once so loud I thought my ears drums would shatter. But suddenly I was on the busy streets of San. Francisco once again.

"So am I crazy Dr. Barter?" I watched the therapist give  my a smile that reminded me of a doctor trying to a reassure a crazy patient in custody.

"No  of course not Miss. Thorton. Tell me something,  Miss. Thorton are  you under a lot of stress at your  work.  Are  you having sexual problems in a relationship?"

I stared at him for  a few moments in disbelieve. Here I was pouring my soul out to him, about an incident that scared the hell out of me and all he could come up with was problems with my work and sex life?

"Excuse me but I'm not imagining this! It happened I didn't make it up! At least I don't think I did..."

"No,  no, of course you didn't Miss. Thorton, I  never  said you  did. Often when people have stressful things in  there  life they  invent a imaginary place, a fantasy. It helps improve their life."

I scoffed at him."This wasn't some little fantasy cruise in the Bahamas with my  dream  man, this was horrible. This guy was a  psycho  who is, was, a demon in love with me!" I was trying desperately to forget my of past when I was sixteen. Try not to bring that up, my subconscious said, it will only make things worse.

The therapist frowned. "Tell  me something Miss. Thorton. Are you fascinated  by the  darker  side of things. Do you read or  watch  entertainment about ghosts,  and other paranormal things?

I stared at  him  in disbelieve. "I have a witches altar in that's what you mean." I told him sarcastically.

He raised his eye brows and rubbed his chin  where some invisible beard must of been. "No,  no of course not." He paused and looked at his  watch.

"Well Miss. Thorton that's all the time we have for today. Shall we  continue this conversation next Monday, same time?"

I  nodded but  stayed silent.

He smiled pleased with some sort or  progress he  seemed to think he had made. "Good, good. Well  then  good-bye for  now."

I got up and left the office thinking I had to  get  a new therapist.

Chapter 2: "Endless Night:"

I could feel my heart pounding as I stared around the dark cavern. I wasn't thirsty, there were plenty of streams in these dark caverns, but I was starving. Twice I had considered killing the rats, and using them for food, and twice I had discarded the idea. I couldn't stand the idea of being reduced to that. I've been wondering these caves for what feels like days. I have no idea how long I really have been here, for it's dark all the time. I can't keep track of the sunrises and sets, in this black well of despair. I'm not exactly sure at what point Julian decided to change. Maybe he had been alone for so long he had snapped. All I know is the Julian I used to know, the one who had enough sensitivity to not hurt me, is gone. I have the bruises and scratches to prove it. The worst part about it is I still can't help but love him. At least a part of me. He is still as sexy and devastatingly charming as ever. He still claimes to love me with all of his self. And despite all that he has done, I have to believe him. It's there in his voice, the way he touches me, the way he looks at me, studying me for hours content in just letting it be. It greatly disturbes me, the way he watchs me. At first that was all it was, just him looking at me in the room he had made for me. He would sit in a chair, and me, on the bed, and he would stare endlessly at me. I got nervous, shifting around fiddling with the bedspread, crunching the silk sheets between my fingers. Soon it was more then just looks. It was touches. I would like to say I had fought him off, I told him no, and never to touch me again. But it would be a lie. I liked the way he touched me. No, that's wrong, I loved the way he touched me. My hair, my cheek, my throat, and breasts. It made me feel more alive then I had in years. But at the same time, I felt frightened. I shouldn't want to respond to him in any way. He had kidnapped me, took me to a place that was not my own. And I had been thankful. Until he had lost control. I jerked out of my thoughts as his voice echoed close by.

"JENNY!!!"

I cringed, folding myself back against the wall as close as I could. This hiding spot was getting to old. I'd have to move out into that black pit soon, and look for a new dwelling.

"JENNY!"

God, he must be just outside this cave. I sit and I wait. Wait for him to come, wait for him to go. But all I can do is wait just the same, in this endless night.

"Jenny!" The little kids in my Kindergarten class were screaming my name, begging for attention. It had been one of those days were you were in desperate need for an Advil, and yet there were none around. It was Kindergarten for God's sake, you didn't have open bottles of medicine lying around for children to get to. Unfortunately you didn't have open bottles of medicine lying around for you either.

"What is it Mary?" I asked the little girl with bright red hair, and green eyes.

"Todd is pulling my hair and calling me carrot. Make him stop!" She stomped her foot in irritation and pointed at the little boy in the corner of the room, busy taking away another child, Emily's, doll. Todd was a handful and on his way down the road of the Juvenile Justice System.

I walked over to the pair and put my hands on my hips tapping my foot rapidly. It was my signal with the kids to listen up. Todd looked up and me and gave me a look of innocence. He handed back the doll to Emily.

"There you go Emily, The dress is all fixed."

I rolled my eyes. "Todd, you know better then to pull other people's hair. I want you to go sit in time out for ten minutes."

Todd glared for a minute and then shrugged. "Okay. No big deal."

He stopped back into the corner and crossed his arms over his chest. I sighed and blew the whistle around my neck, the signal for the kids to form a circle.

Children began putting away there play toys and sitting on the bright green carpet, which really needed to be replaced.

"Okay everyone, I want you to go to your cubby holes and pull out your crayons. Then go over to the counter and pick a piece of color construction paper of your choice. We're going to be drawing things that scare us today."

I had hated this assignment. But it was required by the Principal. Something about working out issues of the youth in America. For me it brought up horrible pasts that I had tried to forget.

I was walking around checking kids progress. The usual drawings appeared, dogs, snakes, no friends, rats, it was Emily's picture that stopped me.

"What's that Emily?"

The picture had a stick figure with big blue eyes, the cyan color in Crayola.

"He's the man that is in my closet." Emily replied concentrating hard on coloring the eyes even more.

I stared down at the top of her chestnut color curls. "The man that's in your closet? Does he have a name?"

The girl nodded still intent on her coloring.

"Can you tell me the name?"

Emily shook her head.

I changed tactics. "Does he ever say anything to you?"

She nodded.

I sighed, this was getting no where, fast. "Can you tell me what he said to you?"

I could sense her hesitating and spoke quickly. "It's okay, no one has to know, but you and me."

"He told me to watch out for you."

I glanced at her in alarm. "Me?"

Emily nodded her small curls bouncing against her face. "Yes, he said I should tell him how you are doing. He told me he'd give me all the candy I want ." Emily sniffled. "You won't tell my mommy will you?"

I patted her head reassuringly. Poor dear, in a world where parents emphasized the need not to take candy and gifts from strangers, she must really be worried.

"Don't worry I won't tell your mom."

The girl smiled clearly relieved, and reached for a white crayon. I remember staring at that picture, the stick figure of Julian, with white hair and blue eyes, made of crayon, and wondering what to do next.

I didn't get home to my apartment in Pacific Highs, till around six p.m. I dropped by bag full of arts supplies, I had bought, since the school system is to cheap to buy excess quantities of anything, and pushed play on my answering machine.

"Hi Jenny, this is your mom, give me a call back when you can. I want to talk about getting together for 4th of July weekend. Love you, bye."

I rolled my eyes. My mother constantly wanted me flying home for any holiday, even minor ones like the 4th of July.

"Hi Jenny... It's Tom. Look, I know it's been a while since I've talked to you. But I really wanted to say hi, check on how you were doing. Give me a call, it's the same number. Bye."

For a moment I just stared at the answering machine in shock. I hadn't' heard from Tom in about three years. Not since a little bit after high school graduation. We had broken up our senior year, and had decided to remain friends. It had been a hard decision for both of us. Not really because we were still in love, and had a future together, but because we had been in love and had a past. But it was for the best. Even today I didn't regret the decision. We had changed, all of us, as people, nothing had ever been the same after the night Julian had died. I shook my head, trying to block out that time in my life. Erase it like a pencil erasing a paragraph in a story. If I was honest with myself, I would know it wasn't possible. You can't just forget a huge part of your life. But I worked every day on it, and put up a good fight, of any memory of that time, from leaking out of my mind, and into the real world. I don't know. Maybe I was fooling myself. Obviously forgetting was doing nothing. Julian had still somehow found a way back into my world, and was tormenting little innocent girls to get information. Although, why he didn't just come directly to me I don't know. Maybe he was more of a coward then I had thought.

Chapter 3: Not ready for Death, Not ready for Defeat.

He found me. I don't' know how, I'm not even sure when. I had become so delusional, so out of a sense of reality that I must have drifted in and out for days. When I came to, the first thing I saw was him leaning over me. He looked so terribly lost and sad. I couldn't help but reach out a hand to touch his face. He took a hold of me, lifting me up as if I were nothing more then a mere child. I don't even know where he is now. He left a few days a go and I haven't seen him since. I feel so tired. Most of the time I just lay here sleeping. Occasionally I get up and look out the window. It's the view of the ocean. Julian had known I always loved the ocean, and so he did this to please me. I am pleased, and yet, sometimes I want to go back to my apartment so bad, that I've considered suicide. I've never known this Julian. The Julian who was tender, and yet did not give me any choice but to stay here, day after day, month after month. He shows me my life on earth. How things are going down in the busy streets of San Francisco. The police have stopped there search for me. I have become an official "Missing person, presumed dead." I don't know what could have been a more cruel then to witness my own funeral. Family, friend gathering around my empty coffin. Tossing roses, that would soon die without fresh water, on that cold wood. I had begged Julian, "Please, Please let me go to them, let them know I'm not dead!" But my pleas had fallen on death ears. They've even replaced my position at the kindergarten. My kids, my poor kids, no longer have me as their teacher. And yet despite all this I can't help but love him. What's wrong with me? I've asked myself that many times, and yet I cannot find an answer. The first week I was here, he held me so tenderly in the night, not doing anything but letting me feel the strength of his body. But the weeks had turned to months, and the months to years, and well, you can't go on forever just holding on to one another. He was gentle when he made love to me, but I knew this wasn't right. How could I feel anything for someone who had kidnapped me and taken me away from everything? I had told him this, and he acted so unbelievably hurt.

"How could you say these things? As if I were a rapist? I've given you everything you've wanted haven't I? All you've wanted in the world."

Except my freedom.

It was there, those unspoken words between us that had turned the make believe love affair sour. The day I had asked, no, demanded to be taken back, he had been furious. Shouting things about me being ungrateful, and how I could never leave him, for I was his, for him alone. I remember getting up and leaving the room, going down the red velvet, carpeted stair way, and heading for the front door. I didn't know how, but somehow I would get home. I didn't make it very far, I was whirled around, and wrestled to the floor.

"You little fool!" he had shouted, and then explained the repercussions of stepping out into the shadow world unprotected. He tossed me to floor and stood over me chest heaving eyes wild. I clenched my eyes shut and folded into a protective ball. The anger left as swiftly as it came, and he had picked me up, taking me upstairs. But it was still there, and the anger steadily increased over the months. And a few weeks ago when he had slapped me in a fit of rage, I had decided to leave. In the middle of the night while he slept, I had carefully slipped out of the bed, and left for downstairs. As soon as I had opened the front door the ocean had disappeared in a soft hiss, and the caves had appeared. It seems all worthless now. Pointless, and a waste of time, as I sit here on the bed, this time in shackles. Chained like some wild animal to make sure I won't escape when he is gone. I sometimes wish I could die, but I'm not ready for death yet. And as I look down at the iron cuffs keeping me prisoner on this bed, I realize I'm not ready for defeat either. It's not a matter of if I escape, it's become a matter of when.

The phone call to Tom had been nerve wrecking. What in the hell was I supposed to say to an old flame that hadn't contacted me in years? How's the weather down there? Hardly. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I poured myself a cup of coffee from my tiny kitchen. The apartments in this area, were nice enough. But not very big. The tiny kitchen had enough room for a gas stove, a microwave oven, a row of cupboards over a white porcelain sink. I couldn't even eat in the kitchen, and instead took my meals to the small living room. I couldn't really complain though, I mean at least I wasn't in an area that did drug deals outside the building. And the heat in the shower worked, even if the plumbing did creak and groan. Still, some day I had hoped to move into a nice big Victorian house in a small town. Raise a couple of kids, and have a dog. The epitome of American family life style. I glanced nervously down at the phone and picked up the receiver. If I was going to call, it had to be now, or I'd loose my nerve. I dialed the number.

"Hello?" A male voice greeted.

"Hi-Tom?"

There was a small pause on the other end then, "Jenny! How are you?"

I took a deep breath. "Hi. Long time since I've talked to you. How are you doing?"

"Great! How are you doing?"

"Well," I hesitated, did I tell him about Julian? "I'm fine. The Kindergarten can be rough, but other then that, things are running smoothly." I let out the sentence with a small rush of air. I didn't want to tell him about the potential of Julian's return. Not when I wasn't even sure if I was crazy. "What have you been up to?"

"Well my practice has been busy. You never run out of kidnapers to put away."

I could hear his laugher which sounded nervous to me. I briefly wondered if he too had been experiencing weird Julian phenomenal events. I could hear him rushing on.

"Listen, I'm going to be in the area in a next weekend, I was wondering if you wanted to go out to lunch? Catch up on our lives."

I hesitated. Did he hope to rekindle some old flame, or was it just a friend thing?

"I mean we've been friends for a long time and I thought we should find out how we're doing."

I breathed a quick sigh of relief. He only wanted to be friends.

"Sure, Tom, that would be nice."

I heard a quick sigh of relief on the other line. "Great, I'll give you a ring right before you leave. I hate to just hang up, but I have a meeting with a client in a few minutes."

"That's okay. I understand you're a busy man. I'll talk to you later then."

"All right, Bye Jenny, I'm looking forward to seeing you."

I hung up the phone wondering if this was such a good idea after all.

The rest of the week had passed uneventfully. Emily was out with the flu. At first I was concerned she didn't want to talk to me after I forced her fear out of her. But that was silly of course, a five year old child understanding a motivation like that. I began thinking the whole idea of Julian coming back was some kind of fantasy I had conjured up just to make my life more interesting.

That's when the gifts had started arriving.

The following Monday, right before my appointment with Dr. Barter, a florist gift box had been at my door. Which seemed frightfully strange since you had to either be buzzed in, or have a key, to get into the apartment complex. It could easily be one of my neighbors though. I had a sweet elderly lady that lived on the floor above me. Every once in awhile she would leave baked goods before my door. Especially on rainy days when she had nothing else better to do. I entered my apartment my arm filled with grocery's, and shut the door behind me with my hip. I scooted the box of roses across the floor with my foot not wanting to make two trips. Setting my grocery's down on the counter I leaned over to retrieve my package. I slipped off the silk, silver colored gray ribbon and lifted up the lid of the box. The sweet smell of roses immediately filled the air and I stared helplessly down at the floweres.

The silver roses.

Sterling silver roses with a note.

I grabbed the note up with shaking hands and read.

"How many loved your moment of glad grace,

And many loved your beauty with love false or true;

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face."

I recognized the poem from an excerpt of one of William Yeat's poems. Though why I felt so calm at that moment looking down at the veil of silver roses with small drops of water clinging to there silky petals, I'll never know. These roses, were not from some elderly woman, or from an old flame, by the name of Tom Locke. They were from an entirely different type of being. One that should not, could not be alive. I picked up one of the roses, still in shock and inhaled the sweet fragrance of the single rose. It overwhelmed my sense, and for a moment I was transported back in time. I was sixteen and staring into Julian's wild blue eyes, begging him not to die, that he couldn't die. I of course didn't know what I would do with him if he had lived, but all I knew was at that moment I couldn't let him die. At that moment he had to live. But of course he didn't. And he had faded away like star dust in space, hanging there for only a brief moment of shadows and light, and then dissipating into the air.

He couldn't be back. Of course he couldn't. The only way is if someone had carved his name back in. Had found out the damn runestave, but it was impossible. And yet... what else could it be? I found myself wishing desperately for a moment it was true. Julian was back and he would take me away from my boring existence. But that was silly of course. I didn't really want that. I had my kids, my friends in the city, parents. And although I wasn't romantically involved at the moment, I hadn't felt I needed that.

Maybe, I realized, I had been fooling myself. Secretly wanting Julian to come back, and take me away. But it was impossible because I had built a life without him. And because of that, I didn't need him sending me arrangements of heart wrenching beautiful flowers. No, I didn't need that at all.

'I hope you're watching Julian, because I am not accepting these. Where ever you are, watch me.' I carefully took the roses, caressed the perfect thornless stems, and opened up the sliding glass door to my balcony. I breathed in the night air, walking over to look down the edge of the railing. The cars seemed tiny from this high up, like pinpoints of light in a kaleidoscope. I took a deep breath and lifted the flowers over the edge and let go.

I watched the flowers fall, a rain of roses in the wind, down below, into the streets full of lights and shadows. Falling, and fading out of my life, like Julian had once so long ago.

That's it for now!

Comments? Send too HeatherCal@aol.com

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