A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Forgotten File [Book the Fifteenth]

Chapter 8

Klara Baudelaire

I gave a silent shudder as I felt a cold chill ran down my spine. I gently wiggled my figure, trying to fight the urge to open my eyes -- I was still very sleepy.

A seeping rush of cold air gave my skin tingles, the hair from my body suddenly rising. I couldn't bare it. It was too cold.

My throat suddenly felt dry and my lips cracked. I was about to ignore the weird sensation I was feeling when a sudden cry of terror rang through my ears.

Eyes fluttering open, my gaze laid upon Vivian who was being dragged by the wrists, screams rising from her mouth.

As her cousin, I had the urge to run and save her. I was about to take a step forward when I realized that my legs and arms were tied to something. And that something was a tree.

"What the actual heck?" I gasped as I tried to break-free from the tied rope. As I did, I received cuts and bruises, partly from the rope, and partly from the bark of the tree. These are the times when I just want to curse at nature.

I gave a little yelp of surprise when Vivian was shoved right next to me and a dirty-blonde haired guy tied her as well.

The whole place was dark and I couldn't make anything out of the guy's face as he looked down and tied Vivian's arms who had terror written all over her face.

But there was only one possible dirty-blonde haired person who was with us.

"Timothy?" I whispered in a rasp, shaky voice.

The guy paused for a moment before finishing Vivian's rope with a final knot. He slowly raised his face until his eyes met mine.

It still had the hint of brown on it, except the fact that his stare was more serious, more steely.

"Klara." He said and I cringed. His outgoing voice was nowhere to be heard, and somehow was replaced by something else in his tone. Sure, he still had the same British accent, but he was someone else now. Someone different.

Hearing my name roll out off his tongue felt like I didn't know him at all, as if he was so foreign, as if it was his first time to say my name.

He then turned his back and lit up a long torch, sticking it to the dirt and letting it stay there.

I had a much clearer view of his face because of the faint glow of the torch, but he didn't give us another glance and walked away.

"Why?" I heard Vivian ask silently as she silently followed Timothy's shadow.

There was an eerie silence that followed, the two of us not daring to move, afraid that any scuffle might just be the cause our death.

"Klara? Vivian?" Two male voices called out.

Me and Vivian exchanged glances before peering into the dark abyss, hoping that the faint glow from the torch might help us see something, anyone.

Squinting my eyes, I can faintly make out the figures of two persons I know -- my brother and my cousin.

From my perspective, I can tell that they're tied onto a tree as well, opposite on the tree me and Vivian were tied.

"Klad, Quill. . ." I called out in a hoarse whisper.

~*~

Laura Baudelaire

The night was cold and dark as I was pushed into the unknown, shuffling my feet onto the path of dirt, not knowing where to go.