New Body, Old Sins

• Jasmine Fraser, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2015

Laetitia smirked as she looked down at her freshly made hands, pale skin taught over bone, warm blood throbbing to the unfamiliar beat of her heart. Slowly standing from her cramped position on the bed, Laetitia swung the foreign legs over the side, studying them, their strange pallor, the obscure constellations of freckles decorating the pallid skin, the slight outlines of muscles beneath. They were peculiar to her, her legs, shock filling her body as she stood and they supported her weight. This curious new body was so different to her last, and disbelief illuminated her features as she stood before a mirror, her vivid green eyes widening as she drank in her new self. Her ticket to freedom.
Human bodies are so strange, she mused, filled with fleeting whims and sudden urges. Walking unsteadily across the room, she grasped the door handle, twisting sharply, stumbling slightly as it opened. She was greeted by an empty hallway, the walls a clinical white, the air filled with the heavy odour of sickness. A bolnica to her, a hospital, she thought. If she was on Earth as intended. Glancing around her, her eyes fell upon an open door. She inched towards it, silently observing the figure inside.
It was the xapr, the head of the king's personal guard. He was still in his natural form, facing the window of the eerily silent storeroom. Adrenaline coursed through Laetitia, her bare feet padding silently against the cold floor. “I know you are there, Laetitia.” His voice was deep, filled with righteous anger, the harsh tones of her home language filling the room. “You cannot conceal your being from me, regardless of your current... form.” His tone was filled with disgust, as he turned to face her, eyes narrowed and fangs bared. “You betrayed us. Even the one who loved you most.”
His voice broke slightly saying this, struggling to conceal the pain he felt. Laetitia froze as he talked, her face a kaleidoscope of emotion. Her voice trembled slightly as tears trickled down her face. “You know why I did this, Theocritus. You of all people should know.” She sobbed beseechingly. “I did this for us.” They had suddenly become close, drawn together by some inexplicable magnetism. “You know I cannot accept this.” Theocritus muttered, his tone bitter. “You knew, as soon as you shot that arrow that it would become my inescapable duty to kill you. How could killing the king be for us?” A single tear glistened in the light shining upon his face. Savouring his last moment with her, Theocritus tenderly caressed her face, is eyes fixed upon hers as he raised the knife from it's concealment in his armour. “I am sorry my mila”, he said as he plunged the knife downwards, thrusting it into....
“Natalia...!” A shout echoed from downstairs, causing Natalia to drop her book in shock. “What now?” She groaned, receiving no response from below her. “Dammit.” She cursed. “Now I've lost my page!”