Saving The Lost

8.) Something Cult-ish

Nova's POV

Honestly, I was just very confused.

Soon after I saw Killian run off with a different, more beautiful me, Severus spirited me away, quickly ushering me into the back of a sharp black Rolls Royce where he left me. Soon the car came to life. I couldn't see anything outside due to the pitch black windows, but as I felt us roll away I was sure I heard an explosion.
**

Later I found myself in a lavish deep red decorated room. Silent maids, really shadows that used to be women moved around me, perfecting the room and my features. They had fitted me into a dark red dress that fell just a little above my knees and black heels. An obsidian necklace hung around my neck like a noose. I had a moment of nostalgia, remembering a similar situation in a previous lifetime. What were the girls' names? For some reason I couldn't quite focus on the memory. I wasn't able to think on it for very long as the door as a man strode into the room, he looked ghostly, his skin pale and his body tall and thin. His bony features reminded me of a skeleton. He didn't speak, instead simply nodding to the maids, the simple movement causing the women to lower their heads and shuffle out in perfect synchronization. The scene was eerie and I almost shrunk away from the haunting man who's eyes now studied me, giving me goosebumps. He then slowly raised a skeletal hand and motioned for me to follow, turning and walking away. The moment his eyes left me a released the breath I hadn't realised I was holding before hesitantly follow the ghost of a figure.

Upon leaving the room I found myself in a tunnel, no, not a hall, a legitimate tunnel. Rock walls and everything. Torches lit with fire were placed along the pathway only close enough together to make sure someone wouldn't fall on their face and die. Though the dim lighting and my stiletto heels definitely did not go together. Every few steps I'd trip slightly, though lickily we made it through and my ankle was still intact.

A heavy wooden door stood at the end of the tunnel, blocking our path, but with a couple taps from my guide it creaked open where stout man stood on the other side. The apparent guard gave me a kind of glare before moving adide to allow us to pass. We continued to walk coming upon a flight of spiral stairs, my shoes clicking qith each step as we ascended. The damp, cold tunnel became drier as we rose and finally surfaced.

The first thing I noticed was once again how dinly lit the area was, but secondly, how expensive everything within the passage seemed. The grand hallway held a similar style to the room from with I had been taken, but it was a much more grand space. The man I was following glance back momentarily and I swear I saw his eyss roll in annoyance at my obvious awe of the castle we were in. He didn't pause for a moment and I struggled to keep up with his long strides.

Upon turning what was probably the 168th corner the figure stopped suddenly, causing me to almost run into him. Slowly turning around he uttered the only words I had yet to hear leave his lips. "Enter, Spirit of Death." He then turned and tapped on the dark double doors to our left. He stepped back as both the doors slowly swung wide open to reveal hundreds of people whispering and hissing at eachother for silence.

Severus stood from where he sat across the room upon a dark throne, bones littered about it's base. His almost sly smile crept to his lips as he looked up me, then about the room which had now fell in silence. He walked forward, the men and women scrambling to provide a pathway for him, whispering affectionate words and apologies as they did so. He seemed to tower above everyone in the room, not necessarily in height, but in power. When he had made his way to me he took a moment to capture my eyes in his harsh red ones. Then he reached out and took my hand, drawing it to his lips which he pressed against it lightly. His touch was cold and it gave me shiver of dread. This didn't feel right, though I wasn't quite sure why. There were a different pair of eyes that were softer, but I couldn't quite place my finger on who they belonged to.

He then turned to the people who looked at him expectantly. Waiting apprehensively as if his very words were life to them. "My children" his booming voice carried across the dark haunting ballroom. "The Spirit of Death herself, my future Queen!" He raised an arm and placed the other on the small of my back. Suddenly the room grew to an uproar, hoots and hollars filled the space and I felt that I had just been trapped where I shouldn't be.