Chapter Eight: Amorette

When I lock eyes with God, I’m certain that one of two things is going to happen:

a) My entire body will ignite with excruciating pain

b) My entire body will begin acting of its own accord

I fully expect to start writhing around in tormenting agony, to collapse to the ground and start crawling towards her in a desperate attempt to free myself from the torture. But when none of this happens, it’s safe to say that I’m thoroughly shocked.

The volume levels in the courtroom drop so rapidly that the room becomes as silent as death itself. All attention turns to God, stood in the doorway with a plump man by her side. She walks across the room, the echo of her footsteps being the only sound. She glares at me as she passes, and though the gold in her eyes is friendly and welcoming I feel my blood chilling from the sheer coldness emitted by her unwavering gaze.

She makes it to her chair at the highest point of the courtroom, above everyone else. God stares down, her white hair flowing out behind her in an almost angelic way.

I know she’s anything but.

‘What. Is. The meaning of this?’ God says, not even trying to hide her displeasure at the situation.

She looks directly at me, and slowly my mouth starts moving.

‘I may have killed a vast majority of the puppets that belong to the other Marionettes.’

I don’t even know what I’m saying, but God seems to understand. Of course she does.

'Ah. I see,’ she replies, clearly ashamed, ‘I apologise for the inconvenience, my fellow Marionettes. It appears that there has been a…. misunderstanding.’

A series of groans breaks out among the crowds of people in the courtroom, all unsatisfied with her judgement.

‘As if we didn’t know that already!’ someone calls out, and similar cries come from all different directions.

‘SILENCE.’

Once again the room descends into a deafening stillness, so still it mimics the statues surrounding the court.

‘I understand that your puppets have been murdered by this insolent human,’ she begins, directing the crowd’s focus to me, ‘however, it’s important for you to know that I own her. And therefore she shall face no further prosecution.’

This causes an outburst from the court, and several people rise from their seats in protest. God tries to calm them down, tries to control the noise, but her efforts are in vain. Their anger rises with their volume, and I can only watch helplessly as some sort of riot starts to take place.

‘What’s going on here?’

A voice, soft and comforting like a lullaby, speaks out amongst the havoc of the room.

Everything stops immediately.

‘Would anyone care to explain?’

A lady in a rippling black dress floats down from the dome of the courtroom, the midnight blue of her hair and the silver specks in her eyes perfectly matching a starry night sky. As she descends, I catch God visibly rolling her eyes, and I smile to myself. I suppose she doesn’t like it when people are better than her.

The bottom of the lady’s dress brushes the ground, and she lands so silently it’s as if her feet never touch the floor.

‘Well?’ she asks patiently, ‘What’s the matter?’

The fat man who entered the room with God steps down from his seat next to her, and rushes forward.

‘Lady Unova,’ he says, bowing so low he’s almost lying down, ‘This young lady here –’ he gestures to me, ‘has killed the puppets of many Marionettes.’

Lady Unova frowns, as though unable to find a problem with the case. ‘Well then kill her,’ she suggests, ‘That is the right procedure, is it not?’

The crowd gasps dramatically, and for a split second I forget that she’s talking about me. But the moment I remember, the realisation sinks in and so does the panic.

I could die.

Today.

‘Of course, Lady Unova,’ replies the man, a slight tremble in his voice, ‘the only issue is that the killer belongs to Mistress Dizzy, you see.’

A smirk crawls up Lady Unova’s face. What the fuck is happening? And God is called… Dizzy?

‘Ah,’ she says, lips curling with glee, ‘So that’s why there’s been a little…. hiccup in the system today.’

The sound of mumbling grows louder in the courtroom, people discussing the events of the case so far excitedly amongst themselves.

I turn again to God- Dizzy, not out of fear or to seek guidance, but purely to see the look on her face. Sure enough, both her eyes and her cheeks are a burning shade of red. She’s fuming.

‘I appreciate your concern, Unova,’ says Dizzy, trying and failing to keep the edge out of her voice, ‘But I have it all under control, I can assure you.’

‘That’s Lady Unova to you, Dicentra,’ snaps Lady Unova, ‘And you were on the verge of a riot before I arrived. How ‘under control’ would you call that?’

Dizzy looks away, too embarrassed to say anything. Lady Unova takes this to mean that she’s won, and a triumphant grin appears on her face.

I can see why Dizzy hates her now.

‘Well, if there’s nothing else…. I know how we can resolve this case.’

The crowd turns to her, drawn in by her beauty and her words.

‘As Deputy of the Court of the Cosmos, and as the right-hand lady to Queen Seren herself, I hereby announce that any new humans born within the next forty-eight hours will be yours from birth – that is, of course, as long as yours have been savagely murdered by Dizzy’s reject, and if you can claim them.’

The people rejoice, all cheering joyfully at the outcome. Dizzy sits in her seat, a sour look on her face and a murderous look in her eyes.

‘That is all, my dear Marionettes,’ says Lady Unova, floating back up to the dome of the courtroom and waving majestically, ‘Until next time!’

The crowds disperse rapidly, masses of people filing out the doors at once, pushing and shoving.

And though Lady Unova’s gone, the fire in Dizzy’s eyes is not.