The HUNTED

1657

"Don't underestimate the allure of darkness, even the purest hearts are drawn to it."

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Soulless, dead eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Bodies piled on top of each other or scattered around the bloody forest floor. It almost looked like they were resting. That is, until you took a closer look. Their expressionless faces and gaping mouths were enough evidence of their departure from this world. Silence replaced the usual bubbly laughter of finely-dressed girls dancing around the crackling fire and the thunderous applause of onlookers at the end of it all.

Amidst all the death and chaos, I saw the unmistakable curtain of dark-brown hair covering those eyes and that deceivingly angelic smile. Minutes hung like hours as i stayed glued to my spot, observing her small frame, swallowed up by a tattered and blood-stained dress.

Like a switch turned on, she violently shuddered and fell to the ground as everything stopped.

She was just another dead body among probably a hundred lying here.

My feet had a mind of their own as i took hesitant steps towards her.

Long lashes fanned sunken cheeks, cracked lips slightly parted as if she was just sleeping.

Bending down, i grazed my knuckles over her cheeks as her eyes flew open.

Her hazel eyes slowly morphed into endless depths of ink,sorrow and pain.

I couldn't see the whites nor the vessels that flowed through them.

She cracked a sinister smile as hysterical laughter escaped her lips, filling the seemingly endless silence.

It surrounded me and i was consumed by it as i felt myself falling into a bottomless pit of misery.

Soon the laughter started to recede but a voice in the back of my head crushed the last bit of hope i allowed myself to have.

He knew the laughter would never leave him alone and would always be there.

He knew that she would always be there.

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"Sir, wake up!"

The voice is followed by a rapt knock.

Jolting up, i run a hand through my hair, tugging at it in frustration.

Beads of sweat cover my forehead as i harshly wipe them away and tumble out of bed, nearly tripping in the process.

A whoosh of cool air hits me as i open the door, facing a very grim-looking man in his late fifties.

"Count Henri shall be coming today. His highness has requested for your presence at his arrival."

Digging through his coat pockets, he takes out a pocket watch as i narrow my eyes and try to decipher the time through blurry vision.

"I will be there. Where is His Majesty at this particular moment?"

"In the courtyard, Sir."

"Thank you Albert. No need to go tell him, i'll do it myself."

Cutting him off, i don't wait for his reply as i slam the door shut and proceed with putting my clothes on.

Barely 5 minutes later i'm rushing through the palace hallways, bumping into several people, shouting out half-hearted apologies.