Everit

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EVERIT  

Ophelia woke later. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she did know that the sun was clearly shining in the sky. Her parents hadn’t yet found her. She guessed once she fell down the hole they gave up.

            She looked around in a daze. Above her, and high above her at that, was a small hole at which the light was pouring through. It was several feet above her and she knew she could not climb her way out. On both sides of her extended two tunnels that led into the darkness. In front of her was the thick dirt of the earth. It was covered in moss and mushrooms and other things she could not detect.

            She could not comprehend all of this. Where was she supposed to go? There was no light once she went into one of the tunnels. There was no way to get out of the hole and back above ground. She wasn’t sure where to go.

            She realized it was probably safer to move underground. Her parent’s wouldn’t know how to find the hole she had fallen into and if they did find it and decide to search that wouldn’t be for hours. She got up and inhaled a shaky breath. She decided to go into the right tunnel.

            She wasn’t sure how long she had been traveling. She knew she was well passed the light and was now wondering blindly in the dark. She had a feeling she was going deeper and deeper into the earth. She kept her one hand on the side of the tunnel so that she could feel when there was a turn.

            Some time later, she saw a faint purple glow a few yards in front of her. She was weary of what it might be and slowed her pace, inspecting it. It appeared to be moving away from her. Curiously she started to move toward it.

            She was almost to it now. She jogged the next few steps and caught it in her hand. It appeared to be a speck of dust, or perhaps, a large ball of dust. It was almost the size of her fist and glowed a vibrant purple/blue. She held it closer to her face and the moment she did, it burst into a bright white light, blinding her temporarily. The force of the explosion knocked her back, but she did not hit the ground.

            Someone was standing behind her and caught her, wrapping a hand around her waist so tightly that she thought she might vomit. Her bag stumbled out of her hand and rolled away. The creature behind her used their unoccupied hand to hold a blade to her throat.

            Her hands automatically grabbed at the persons forearm that held the large knife. She clawed at it and thrashed her legs. The grip only tightened and the stranger pushed the knife harder into her neck. A prick of blood started to trickle down to her shoulder. She went limp, knowing fighting would only end her life faster.

            Her breath was coming quickly, her heart beating a million miles a minute. She wished now that she had stayed home, that she had never tried to leave Hysteria. The stranger behind her would surely kill her, to keep her face as a prize, or maybe trade to the Watchers for a few jewels. The process would be painful, she would be wishing for death every second.

            The person behind her, who was obviously male, let the blade drop. He succored it in his belt. His hand around Ophelia’s waist went slack too, but immediately went up to her shoulders, not giving her time to run.

            He spun her around, and not wanting to see the mans hideous face, she closed her eyes. “Please! Do it fast!” Ophelia bagged for mercy. She was answered with a swift slap to the face.

            “What are you talking about, you abominable moron?” The man barked. His voice was smooth, like silk, even in anger. “And open your eyes! I can’t communicate with you cowering in fear with your eyes closed like a child!”

            She whimpered and was answered by another slap, lighter this time. She was frightened by what she might see. Both her parents had made it clear that some of the ugliest of creatures had deceivingly beautiful voices to trap their pray.

            Slowly she did as was asked and opened her eyes. She gasped in shock. This man was not hideous. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. His face was angular, with sharp cheek bones, which had a slight flush to them. His eyes were deep set and the color of water at twilight. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he looked at her. And his hair… his hair stunned Ophelia. It was ink black, like the dark sky at midnight. It fell in soft waves nearly to his shoulders. It almost appeared like it was alive the way it shuddered at his slightest move.

            His lips were a perfect light pink, set into a hard line. His shoulders were broad and covered by a thin black t-shirt, muscle was swelling from under it. He was dressed in simple jeans and combat boots. He was altogether perfect. More perfect than Ophelia herself. The Watchers would go crazy if they found him.

            She gaped at him. “What are you doing down here? How did you find this place? Who sent you?” he demanded.

            “W-what?’ Ophelia asked. He had released her shoulders and now held her by one of her wrists.

            “Don’t play stupid with me! I am no idiot. Where are you from?” He looked her straight in the eye and she was compelled to tell the truth.

            “Hysteria,” she answered automatically.

            He seemed to ponder that for a moment but moved on. “What’s your name?”

            “I don’t have to tell you,” Ophelia protested.

            “If you want my help, then yes. And by the looks of you blindly stumbling into the trap of that Pixie, you need somebody to assist you. So again I ask, what is your name?”

            “Ophelia.”  She glared at the stranger.

            “What are you doing down here? Are you under glamour? What do you really look like?”

            “I look like how you see me now. I fell down a hole while I was trying to run away. I couldn’t climb out so I followed a tunnel.”

            “How did you get that gash?” he pointed to her shoulder with the hand that didn’t hole her one wrist. Ophelia glanced over and for the first time remembered her parents throwing the giant knife at her.

            “The people chasing me put up a fight for my leaving,” she told him simply. “Who are you?”

            He grinned, a devlish grin, showing one dimple in his right cheek. He had perfect, square teeth. “Me? Why I’m Everit.”

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