Death's Bride- Chapter 2
"The days feel like a blur at this point. I mean, they have for years, but even more so now. Father hasn't been home in weeks per usual, and the house has been very quiet. The worst accident of all happened yesterday. Maria tried to steal you, my beloved journal and she is now in the hospital. I don't know how weak that ceiling tile had to be to fall on her at just that moment, but it must have been. It cracked right over her skull! I hope she's okay, but at least I have this to keep me company. I wonder though, am I not as alone as I think? I saw the man's reflection in my window again. He's been here the whole time. Maybe that's the warmth I feel, that mysterious stranger that invades all the reflective spaces. Unless I'm just so lonely I'm hallucinating. That's always a possibility. Then again, an invisible man is just as good of an explanation as anything else I can think of-"
The bell rings overhead, startling her into shoving her things back into her bag and getting up with everyone else, trotting out into the schoolyard as she shields her eyes from the bright sun with her arm. She pulls on her hood with a sigh, walking through the roads with a slight frown. She had always hated sunny days, they felt too optimistic for her circumstances. The warmth made her feel stuffy and overwhelmed, her pale skin blooming with an unnatural pink hue as she turned a corner into the shade of a tree growing at the edge of a lawn that needed to be trimmed back. But then she felt something bash against the back of her head, her body falling onto the concrete in a lifeless lump.
Now this room, this room felt more appropriate. The lighting was more eerie as she came to, blinking at the lamp above her. She shuffles for a second as she feels her wrist's ropes that bound her to a cold wooden chair. A laugh echoed from the shadows, a coarse laugh tainted by coughing.
"Well well well, looks like our plan worked boys. We caught ourselves one first-class prize." They shuffled into the light, one scraggly outlaw after another. She gags on the rotten stench of them, wishing she could plug her nose.
"What should we do with her while we wait for her dad to get back to us?" The one on the left asks, bringing his face a little too close to her as he grins. She leans back as far as she can go, scrunching her expression.
"I would suggest leaving me be. You're already cursed." She says with a roll of her eyes, watching the confusion dawn on their faces as they back up a step.
"What's that supposed to mean you little bugger?" The one on the right asks with a sneer. His voice was the deepest yet.
"I would just be careful if I were you. Good things do not come to those who wrong me." She watches them with a solemn expression as they turn to discuss amongst themselves, their hissing whispers filling the room as she waits.
"What do you think you are, huh?" The one in the middle turns around and slaps her straight across the face. "Some sort of sorcerer?"
"No. But strange things happen to people who hurt me. Ceiling tiles fall, wind breaks bones..." A lamp hits the floor with the smashing of glass, making her smirk a little. "It's almost like a ghost follows me wherever I go, punishing anyone who crosses me." The lightbulb over her head pops, bathing the room in complete darkness. "I would be careful if I were you." She brings her volume down just a tad, making her voice a haunting whisper as the three men start to scream as they rush around, trying every light source to no avail. After much terrified conversation she feels another bash to the back of her head, knocking her out once more. She wakes in her bed, being attended by the same maid with a heavy accent. She blinks as she looks around once more, sitting up as she rubs the spot on her head.
"Take it easy darling, we didn't find you in good shape." The woman forces her to lay back down, dotting the spot she'd been hit with a damp washcloth.
"Can I have my journal?" She asks weakly, rubbing her eyes.
"Of course dear." She picks up the book bag and pulls out the locked journal, opening it for her and handing it over. "I'll leave you be, but you rest well and tell me if you need anything, alright?"
"Yes ma'am." She watches her walk out of the room and close the door before grabbing her pencil and adding an item to her newest list of incidents. This was the most concerning yet, all of the ones today were.
"This is so strange, it's almost like there is something following me... but how can I know if I can't see it? Perhaps someone spiritual, or a psychic of some sort?" As she finishes writing that sentence she hears a small thump and looks up, a decoration having fallen off her desk. She gets up to see what it is, picking up the crow off her floor. "A crow... the bird of death and visions..." She stares at it for a long moment before setting it down, looking up at the glass of the window dotted with the heavy rain of the now appropriately gloomy sky. The reflection of the man was there once more, but she was still alone, though she still looked around just to be sure. "Right, answers." She slams her journal on the desk and locks it, walking out of her room and down to her dad's office.
It was still empty, dust beginning to cover the shelves she observes as she goes up to the desk and opens a drawer, pulling out the hefty business catalog and beginning to flip through it. "P... no... or is it an S? No, it starts with P... oh!" A bright flashy ad for a well-renowned psychic catches her eye, Madam Anantya. "She must be very confident to name herself after the mistress of the universe." She thinks as she writes down the address. It wasn't far, a 5-minute walk and it even says she accepts walk-ins. But as she stares out the gloomy window at the darkening night, she puts the book away and gets up, deciding to leave that for another day.
The bell rings overhead, startling her into shoving her things back into her bag and getting up with everyone else, trotting out into the schoolyard as she shields her eyes from the bright sun with her arm. She pulls on her hood with a sigh, walking through the roads with a slight frown. She had always hated sunny days, they felt too optimistic for her circumstances. The warmth made her feel stuffy and overwhelmed, her pale skin blooming with an unnatural pink hue as she turned a corner into the shade of a tree growing at the edge of a lawn that needed to be trimmed back. But then she felt something bash against the back of her head, her body falling onto the concrete in a lifeless lump.
Now this room, this room felt more appropriate. The lighting was more eerie as she came to, blinking at the lamp above her. She shuffles for a second as she feels her wrist's ropes that bound her to a cold wooden chair. A laugh echoed from the shadows, a coarse laugh tainted by coughing.
"Well well well, looks like our plan worked boys. We caught ourselves one first-class prize." They shuffled into the light, one scraggly outlaw after another. She gags on the rotten stench of them, wishing she could plug her nose.
"What should we do with her while we wait for her dad to get back to us?" The one on the left asks, bringing his face a little too close to her as he grins. She leans back as far as she can go, scrunching her expression.
"I would suggest leaving me be. You're already cursed." She says with a roll of her eyes, watching the confusion dawn on their faces as they back up a step.
"What's that supposed to mean you little bugger?" The one on the right asks with a sneer. His voice was the deepest yet.
"I would just be careful if I were you. Good things do not come to those who wrong me." She watches them with a solemn expression as they turn to discuss amongst themselves, their hissing whispers filling the room as she waits.
"What do you think you are, huh?" The one in the middle turns around and slaps her straight across the face. "Some sort of sorcerer?"
"No. But strange things happen to people who hurt me. Ceiling tiles fall, wind breaks bones..." A lamp hits the floor with the smashing of glass, making her smirk a little. "It's almost like a ghost follows me wherever I go, punishing anyone who crosses me." The lightbulb over her head pops, bathing the room in complete darkness. "I would be careful if I were you." She brings her volume down just a tad, making her voice a haunting whisper as the three men start to scream as they rush around, trying every light source to no avail. After much terrified conversation she feels another bash to the back of her head, knocking her out once more. She wakes in her bed, being attended by the same maid with a heavy accent. She blinks as she looks around once more, sitting up as she rubs the spot on her head.
"Take it easy darling, we didn't find you in good shape." The woman forces her to lay back down, dotting the spot she'd been hit with a damp washcloth.
"Can I have my journal?" She asks weakly, rubbing her eyes.
"Of course dear." She picks up the book bag and pulls out the locked journal, opening it for her and handing it over. "I'll leave you be, but you rest well and tell me if you need anything, alright?"
"Yes ma'am." She watches her walk out of the room and close the door before grabbing her pencil and adding an item to her newest list of incidents. This was the most concerning yet, all of the ones today were.
"This is so strange, it's almost like there is something following me... but how can I know if I can't see it? Perhaps someone spiritual, or a psychic of some sort?" As she finishes writing that sentence she hears a small thump and looks up, a decoration having fallen off her desk. She gets up to see what it is, picking up the crow off her floor. "A crow... the bird of death and visions..." She stares at it for a long moment before setting it down, looking up at the glass of the window dotted with the heavy rain of the now appropriately gloomy sky. The reflection of the man was there once more, but she was still alone, though she still looked around just to be sure. "Right, answers." She slams her journal on the desk and locks it, walking out of her room and down to her dad's office.
It was still empty, dust beginning to cover the shelves she observes as she goes up to the desk and opens a drawer, pulling out the hefty business catalog and beginning to flip through it. "P... no... or is it an S? No, it starts with P... oh!" A bright flashy ad for a well-renowned psychic catches her eye, Madam Anantya. "She must be very confident to name herself after the mistress of the universe." She thinks as she writes down the address. It wasn't far, a 5-minute walk and it even says she accepts walk-ins. But as she stares out the gloomy window at the darkening night, she puts the book away and gets up, deciding to leave that for another day.
（⊙ｏ⊙）
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