Story of The Fallen

Story of The Fallen Chapter Three

Story of The Fallen

Chapter Three

That night Dad came home with bruises and blood flowing from the opened wound on his forehead. Mom shrieked as she saw him. I stood behind the kitchen counter. Dad sat on our dining chair while Mom cleaned his wound. He was half conscious that he started to ramble. The only thing I remember he said is, “I was saved for a price.”

“Ugh...” I moaned. My head feels like knocked and pounded by small insects. The breathe I take in feels as if it is limited with the great strain in my ribs. I move my fingers to feel my ribs. There's a rope with lacy material that tightly cover me from my chest down to my hips. With my hands supporting me, I push myself to sit. An old-fashioned white corset covered me with sabrina-style shirt covering my breasts and shoulder. Fluffy skirt covers my legs to my ankle. Type of clothe I would seen in one of the old English movie.

My mind ponders as I observe the place I am in. The wall is made of stones with torches every four feet. There's a large wooden door in the end of the hall guarded with two iron armor man – which would knock me out if it suddenly moves. This looks like... castle.

Is this a dream?

I slowly pinch myself, “Ouch.” This is clearly not a dream. As far as my knowledge, there is no castle in our town. This kind of castle could only be found in somewhere in Britain which is miles away. I can't be kidnapped... Where was I before this?

I was swimming in the lake when suddenly my feet got cramp and... I drowned.

Breathe choked my throat and tears dam up in my eyes. I rest my left palm on my chest and my right covering my opened mouth – feels like a lump has been inserted into my throat as I shiver and blood burns my face.

Did I die already?

“Hello, Emilia.”

I turn my head in a light-speed to the source of the melodious voice.

My eyes shine in amazement. His skin is very pale, his eyes are burning red and golden. His brown hair is as long as his shoulder and as soft as the honey-dew. His nose just mounts up perfectly matches his thin lips. His cold face rests on his fingers with his index finger straighten on his right cheek tapping it once or twice. He wears nothing to cover his broad shoulders. Every single muscle a human can have is toned to look so perfectly on him. His legs are long covered with black pants.

His gaze of superiority gives me a knock of fright, “Who...are you?”

“Does it matter?” He stands up from his red satin grand seat covered with golden over the edges, “Emilia...”

“Excuse me, my name is not Emilia.” I said humbly.

The guy walks down some stairs and slowly going toward my place. As if walking is dancing, he moves easily and arrives in a second. The man lifts my chin up and strokes my cheek.

“You are. In here.” Another smile before he turns his back of me.

“Emilia, you are special. But,” He turns his back again and points his finger to me, “You're dead.”

My jaws clench and breathe stops in a sudden. Blood drains from my face. The man notices my anxiety.

“No worries, Emilia. No worries. You can have your life back by just... babysit.”

I anxiously laughing, “Wait, are you trying to play a game here? First, you dress me up. Then you told me I'm dead and now you said the only way to save my life is to babysit? Are you... lunatic?”

“He always is, Emilia.” Another voice comes into my ear just denouncing it. I turn my head to the source, just like a de ja vu, he walks in to the room as he did last night.

“What... what are you doing here?” This becomes a great confusion. Whatever this is, it has succeeded driving me nuts.

“It's my home.” He smiles a smile that looks like the man.

The man suddenly stands beside me, “He is your 'baby', Emilia. Say hello to Dmitri.”

“I don't... get it.” I shake my head, “You call me Emilia, my name is Madeline. What's with this Emilia? You surely mistook me for someone else. And, what is this place? Oh God...”

AS if my last word is a major electric shock, the man jumps and puts his index finger on his pouting lips, “Sshh, don't bring G here. Let's just, stay us.”

Dmitri sneaks both of his hand under my thigh and back. He pulls me up and whispers, “Close your eyes, Emilia.”

He smiles and as if he controls me, I close my eyes voluntarily.

“Au revoir, Papa.”