Melissa Crumpton is a ruined remnant of the once-angelic girl. Contrariwise, Kevin Archer decamps the drudging slavery to grow into a small rate successful artist.
When the artist lays his eyes on a ruined redolent young woman, he thinks of bringing...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Melissa's PoV:
I should've been careful. Again, how one being careful would help in blind darkness? I thought of evading. But the fear of getting all the more into trouble overtook me and I gave in to the soft and tender fingers that grabbed me evilly. That hand hauled me along the alley, I suppose, so easily as if that someone could see the way so clearly. We had to take a turn when I heard dozens of footsteps approaching us. Again I could only presume as I had no visions at all.
"I'll take care of her," voiced authoritatively the holder of my hand. It should be a 'she', I concluded. Once she made her point clear, the other footsteps were dead leaving her a chance to advance. She walked me to another turn and halted there in front of a huge door where it was dimly lit and allowed some sights.
She knocked on the door tentatively as though she wasn't sure about what resides in. She had similar spectacles like Austin's. Hmm! That explains her distinct sight in our dark way. I turned to look at the door. Could you believe me if I say in the middle of this semi-natural woodland there existed an architectural wonder?
I paid much attention to the carvings in the wooden door. It had many symbols and illustrations which pose no meaning to my mind. All I could make out from them was that they were beautiful and adoring. I wish I could have someone to puzzle me out here like Robert Langdon.
As if in favour of bringing me back to reality, the door creaked and opened. The luminosity from inside the room affected me a little. I shielded my eyes with my free hand until my eyes grow used to it. It slowly gave me some relaxation. At least now I could see at something with not much strain.
I was dragged once again into the room. Only when entering into the room I could feel the fear gripping me thoroughly. It was quite a big chamber and here were about 50 or so, men and women of all ages gathered. They were as bowled out to see me as I was to see that huge population.
When I looked around, I felt like I saw someone familiar. But when I tried spotting them again, I couldn't. My gaze stopped abruptly at Austin's appalled look. I felt guilty. At this point, I should've gone numb to this feeling of guilt for I always make mistakes and go guilty eventually. I turned my gaze to the other side. There were three chairs on an upraised floor among which 2 were abandoned. Only one chair was occupied by a man who looked so serene and well educated. His smile didn't alter a bit even after seeing me being dragged in.
"Who is she?" asked a man of late forties or early fifties from the mob gathered before the dais. The girl who dragged me in said in a much reverent tone, "Mage, she sneaked in after Dow."
The girl in front of me, who accused me to a crew of old men, was a girl of early twenties with pale skin, perfect curves and a clearly exotic accent. No one except Austin was purple as I expected them to be. My captor had a red cloak that covered most of her features. In fact, everyone out there is dressed in red hoodies. I hadn't noticed Austin's attire except for the hood but now I could see he was in red as well. The only exception to the dress code is me and the boy kneeling with his head hung down desperately.
