The Fallen Memory

Chapter Three ~ Secrets in the Dark

Ryder woke to the sound of rain pelting the tin roof of his cabin. His heart, which had once beat, now rested motionless in his chest. He took a deep breath, the unneeded oxygen burned his inactive lungs. Pieces of his dream flitted across his mind, images and pictures that mixed together to form a distorted version of the angel he had imagined.

Half of him wanted to go back to sleep, to try and catch another glimpse of his cerulean angel. The other half knew better. 

He glanced at his clock, the neon green numbers blinking 2:14 A.M. He fell back on his pillow, the memory foam mattress muffling the impact. He couldn't fall back to sleep, not with his mind active and awake. 

The silk sheets had begun to stick to his skin. His body was having a hot flash from having the vision dream. He ripped the sheets off, letting the expensive material fall to the wooden floor. He looked over his chest to the sweat beads that had condensed on his bare skin. The black tattoo that had coiled around his body was faintly glowing a soft orange color - the same shade as the sunset in summer. He laid there, his body burning in the cold room. 

His hands ran through his black hair, causing the damp curls to stick up. His ink irises stared at the ceiling, watching the fan as it circled above. He closed his eyes, taking in the cool air, willing the fire to die down that had blazed up in his soul. 

Outside his door a scratching sound broke the silence. His eyes snapped open as he jumped out of bed, landing in a graceful crouch beneath the bay windows. Every muscle in him was wired and tense. In one hand was clasped a dagger, the other around a sword with a blade made of gold.

The sound at his door turned into something being dragged, stopping right outside. He watched as the hall light turned on, revealing a shadow from under the door. Bare feet were visible through the tiny hole. 

He could hear voices outside. Blood rushed through his veins like fire. He felt his tattoo burn, the black ink glowing a faint orange, illumination his bedroom in its soft light. 

"We have to -"

"Shut it. He doesn't need to know anything."

"He has a right."

"So? We had a right too, you know. A right that he took away without thought."

The voices paused. Ryder inched closer to the door, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor.

"Well, we can't lie to him." Ryder could distinguish between the voices. One was male, the other female. He was still slightly disoriented from his dream, his senses dulled, to make out whether or not he recognized them. 

"You can't lie, but I can." 

Ryder's sword bumped the floor. The sound echoed throughout the silent room. He held his breath, thankful that his heart didn't beat. 

"Shh, did you hear that?" Ryder silently cussed himself. He could sense them listening, trying to hear if he was awake. 

"No, what was it?"

"It came from in there."

"Do you think..." The voice trailed off. 

His eyes had finally adjusted to the dark room. He could see the doorknob turn slowly. His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes widening. Ryder quickly sheathed his sword, placing it beside him as he grabbed the sheets from the floor. He covered himself, half closing his eyes, the dagger still clutched in his hand, just as the door opened. Through the tiny slits in his eyes, he could make out that figure of a boy and a girl. 

The girl had long dark locks, while the boy had short cropped hair. Both of their faces were obscured by shadow. The boy was a head taller than the girl. 

"See, he's asleep." The boy motioned toward Ryder's resting figure.

He watched as the girl looked around the room. He could almost imagine her eyes squinting to see if he was awake. 

"Whatever." She turned to leave. The boy grabbed her arm.

"We need to tell him." His voice was a soft whisper. We both know he'll find out eventually."

The girl turned, her profile illuminated by the dim light from the hallway. It was just enough for him to recognize her. Ryder glared, his grip on the dagger tightened. 

"If we tell him, then he'll go insane. This is better kept a secret." Alyxa sighed. Her hand resting on the doorknob. "In fact, him not knowing is the only thing that has kept us safe all these centuries."

Without another word, she grabbed the door, pulling it closed behind them. They took the light - and locked him in with the darkness of his soul. 

He laid there, his grip tight around his dagger. He could feel where his skin had overlapped the blade, cutting his fingers. The warmth of blood trickled down his hand - somehow cooling the burning thoughts in his head. Silencing the questions he was dying to ask. Something in his chest started to tighten, squeezing the pointless air out of his lungs. 

As the darkness began to creep over him, he felt a part of his soul he thought dead start with emotion. The one emotion something that he knew too well.

Betrayal.