The Mystic Chronicles: Locket

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The Mystic Chronicles: Locket Page 7

by Elizabeth Hawkins


  “Darling, what happened?” Silas’s mother had asked, in a concerning tone of voice. The two of the girls explained the terror of what they’d witnessed. How someone attacked their mother, and how their father was nowhere to be found. Scarlett only half teared up, Liveria a mess of hysteria. Together, they all figured that both Scarlett and Liveria were too traumatized to go on, so they called it a night.

  When the scene had died down, Scarlett decided that she needed a shower. Liveria didn’t feel the need to sleep, but wanted to ever so desperately get away from her reality. So she did.

  In the bathroom, Scarlett gazed at herself in the mirror. Terrified of the reflection that she saw. She took the piercings from her ears, and placed them on the wooden counter. There was a slight but faint mark below her nose where the Glycarian had burned her. When she ran her finger over it, it still stung. There were three gentle knocks on the bathroom door.

  Chapter|Seven

  “Come in.” She called out, her voice hoarse. It revealed Silas.

  The dimly lit torches of the bathroom reflected against his face gently, as it smoothed over his harsh features and made them appear soft. He wore a black tunic which exposed his collarbones, and cotton pants. His thick brows drew themselves together, “I brought you a towel.” He said, his voice low. In his hands contained a dark woven fabric, and he set it on the counter.

  Scarlett was paralyzed, her hair appearing black, in the dim light. She felt numb. She wanted to escape the feeling. She longed for unicorn dust. Tears sprang out of her eyes. It’d been a year. Why was she still addicted? Why did she still have the urges? Why couldn’t she just deal with her own emotions, why did she need a substance to take her away from them? She felt light on her feet. “Hey, hey.” Silas spoke, when he rushed over to her in a quick Vampiric-like fashion, and caught the weight of her body. He held a fixed gaze on her.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” She finally said, and turned her chin up so that she met his eyes. Scarlett’s eyes were wide, and she bit her lip. She shook her head slightly. “Please don’t leave me, Silas.” Her voice shook, “I-I feel like using again.” She cried silent, ugly, repressed tears as he stroked his fingers through her hair, and gently silenced her.

  “I wish you could take me away from this. I don’t want to die, Silas...” She admitted, in a small voice. Scarlett hated crying, she hated being vulnerable. She didn’t have the heart to say it or express what had happened. It hurt too much. Her parents were gone. She watched her mother die in her arms. Saying it out loud just meant that it was even more real than what she’d like to believe that it was. “I won’t let that happen.” His words were like the hot fire that burned her insides. Flavors of passion exploded throughout her entire body, as she blinked back tears. Silas then detached himself from her and went over to the shower to turn on the water. He locked his jaw. “So I’m going to go to my room, and—”

  “No, stay.” Scarlett blurted out when she wrapped her arms around herself and pursed her lips. Silas felt like home to her. He felt like familiarity, he felt safe. He cared about her, and she liked that. “Please.”

  He narrowed his dark eyes, and pressed his lips together. “You want me to shower with you?” Silas hesitated.“Scarlett—”

  She let out a peal of laughter that filled the sadness, as she threw her head back. “No, definitely not. Just, stay here.” She spoke and walked over to where the bathtub was. She stopped the water from running. “I don’t want to be left alone.” Silas turned away from her, as she started to undress. He tried to restrict himself from imagining the things his mind wanted him to. “Not now.”

  “Okay.” He said to Scarlett reluctantly, and faced the bathtub again once he heard the bathwater splash, as she got in. She pulled her knees up against her chest, and cocked her head at him. Their eyes held a conversation, as Silas sat next to the tub. He then grabbed a glass bottle of purple liquid that sat on top of the sink.

  “Turn around.” He spoke gently.

  Scarlett gave him a small smile, as she turned. She felt him pour sweet-scented soap over her head, as he grabbed a cup and began rinsing blood from her hair. The water was warm, his hands were cold. Like all Vampric hands were. It was a beautiful eruption of actions, and everything seemed to happen in a blur. The only thing there was his presence. And she realized that was all that she wanted. His hands felt nice, Scarlett thought. They raked through her hair delicately, and moved in slow circles. When he finished washing her hair he started to leave. Scarlett pulled his arm gently, water droplets raced down her cheeks, and to her neck. “Silas, wait.” She said, in a low voice, as her hands clung to his arm.

  She looked at his eyes, then his nose, then his lips, and then his hands. When she smiled, her eyes crinkled, and she rested her head on his chest. “You really are the greatest. You’re the only person in my life right now that makes me feel less sane.” She murmured. Her lips were wet, as her light eyes lit up like neon against the dark. He was, she thought. Her mind went to Charlie. The last relationship with the Vampire that seemed like forever ago. Somehow, she liked to think that Silas saved her in a way. “I appreciate you. For everything.”

  She looked up at him. The harshness of his face, the curve of his nose, the faded tan of his skin. His hair was tousled, and not put up, and it fell like tree roots. Her eyes went to his lips again, and then back to his deep, intense dark eyes that held her own. The moment was like flying, as he leaned in and kissed her.

  Scarlett froze against him.

  It was a soft, innocent kiss on her cheek but it lingered, and trailed to the right corner of her mouth. She shut her eyes, and melted into his lips, as she tangled her wet wingers into the waves of his hair. “You’re beautiful.” He said against her mouth, and pulled away slowly. His eyes longed for her, wanted her. Scarlett looked at him as if he were the only person in the world. “You’re magic. My magic.” Silas said, as his tattooed fingers had brushed curly strands of wet hair beneath her ears.

  At that moment, she didn’t care about pushing her emotions away, she didn’t care about hiding, she didn’t care about pretending. All she cared about was him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, as she pulled him into the bathtub with her, and her body responded to his. In warm waters, his lips had kissed the back of her ears, and then her neck, and Scarlett’s body reacted. To Silas, her reactions felt like heaven. Oh, to receive the very thing that he’d always wanted. As if the years of thirst, of his dessert of emotions had only longed for Scarlett’s rainstorms, and then they’d finally come. Her reactions. Oh, how it was the tempo he’d always wanted to hear. A sensual distortion of music that he always had wanted to listen to and record inside his mind. Scarlett’s soul felt as if it were bliss against his own. Something about her had weakened him, and he didn’t understand it. He was too afraid to understand it.

  She then ripped apart his shirt out of pure desire, as the palms of her hands were rested against his bare chest. He looked down at her hands. How small they were, and bare, compared to his own. But she was more than what she led on. More than her appearance. She held a fire that he knew could destroy worlds inside of his heart. She was powerful and that was why he envied her. Why he had craved her. Perhaps, he wanted a part of her all to himself, because he felt powerless without it. Without her love. Without her needing him. He felt as if he needed her to need him. To Silas, no girl could ever possess or embody the presence of who she was. Not even his own lover. Her energy enthralled him. He both loved and hated it.

  Her eyes held an emotion that he’d never seen from her before. Something otherworldly flashed in his eyes as he bit his lip when she then got on top of him. His hands had rested on her waist, as vulnerability escaped from their lips like desire. She moved forward slowly against the fabric of his damp cotton pants, and her fingers had slowly begun to navigate where his zipper was. He locked his jaw. Their eyes connected, as if they were glued together. He took time to enjoy the miracle that was Scarlett. How the frame of her brown h
ips were accompanied by his hands, and had water droplets traveling down them. How her chest was exposed, and how the dark of her hair was wild in a beautiful curled mess. She smiled at him. in a vulnerable-like way. However, his eyes had drifted slightly towards the water. He was still holding back. Her eyes then searched for his, and she leaned down to kiss him. She held his chin. “What’s wrong?” She’d asked in a low tone, with a slight giggle. “Have you never done this before?” She marveled.

  Silas then opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly, the bathroom door flung open.

  “Hey S? Can I borrow your—” She started to say, but then cut herself off as Silas and Scarlett threw themselves quickly off of each other. Scarlett then sat up straight, and quickly grabbed the towel that stood beside the bathtub and stood awkwardly. She closed her eyes, and then opened them. Silas cleared his throat, and scratched the back of his head, as he tried to come back from his fantasy of desire.

  Liveria’s mouth hung open.“Okay, you guys are effing disgusting.” She stated, and crossed her arms. Scarlett buried her face into her hands, as she suddenly was frustrated. With the moment she shared with Silas, the chaoticness of the night, and her urges, she felt conflicted and unbalanced. And now her sister had walked in on her about to get it on with her best friend. What was she thinking? Scarlett suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over her.

  “G-Get me a towel.” She spoke rushfully. But Silas seemed miles away when he looked at her. She rolled her eyes, and slapped him. “Silas?!”

  He shook his head, and coughed. “Right. Sure.” He said, and grabbed the towel that was on the ground and quickly had given it to her. Liveria laughed.

  “Just get out, Liv!” She exclaimed.

  The pink-haired girl widened her eyes, and threw her hands up. “Fine by me.” She said, as she started to turn. “Seriously. Get a room…” Liveria spoke, as she shut the door.

  Silas looked to the floor, and then back up at her. Scarlet placed her hair in a low bun away from her face and wrapped the towel tightly against her body. Even when apart, she felt his hands on her. Treating her as if she were a flower; delicately. She’d never been held the way that Silas held her in that moment. The way that he looked at her. The words he’d said to her. She gazed at herself in the mirror and licked her fangs.

  Tension. Tension is what she felt when he looked at her. When she looked at him. When they gazed at each other. She wanted him again. Her body longed to be on top of his, with his lips caressing her spine. How their souls clashed.

  “S-silas, you should go,” Scarlett said, as she played with her necklace, and eventually her locket. She stared at the thing. Oh, many nightmares it had caused. Half of her wondered if she were in a nightmare. Another half of her wanted to be in one. A perfect one. In a world where everything was okay, and nothing was complicated. A world where everything was normal. Perhaps, her nightmares seemed a lot more like dreams. But dreams, she’d assumed, were supposed to be anything other than mundane. Ordinary. Her and Silas were exactly that. A perfect nightmare.

  “Don’t do this, Scar. Don’t run.”

  “Just leave.” She said.

  Silas looked as if he wanted to say so much. But his mouth had rested into a flat line. He didn’t say another word, as he stormed out of the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Chapter|Eight

  The day was a bitter blur for Scarlett.

  A mixture of unplanned sorrows, and mental breakdowns. She hadn’t felt the feeling of abandonment since before she’d gotten adopted. Sure, she had a stepsister. But there was something about not having a parent to watch over you, to give you love. She missed her adopted parents dearly, almost as much as she longed for her birth parents. She’d never felt so alone in her entire life, so unstable. Her mind went to Silas. What she thought she felt for him grew into something else, and it terrified her. She thought of her sister. Taking care of Liveria, being a second mother to her. They were three years apart. She didn’t know if she could handle the mental aspects of it all. Morgen and Rovert Drovanagus were more than happy to accept Scarlett and Liveria to stay with them at their home, they were like family to them. But it was different. She barely knew herself. It was one thing to know who you wanted to be, but it was an entirely different concept to be so lost within yourself, that you didn’t even recognize your reflection anymore.

  She clung onto the fact that she was a Vampress. It was the only thing that gave her stability. She knew she was a Vampress. It wasn’t something that anybody could ever take away from her. She couldn’t have been an Undetermined.

  She was silent, in every one of her classes. The only thing that gave her adrenaline and pleasure, was the sharp clang of the shimmering black Kilantra blade in which slapped the target in a styled and manicured imperfectly perfect-like fashion.

  Silas wasn’t with her at that hour. That was one thing she disliked about him. That was one thing she disliked about everyone. Nobody liked combat and fighting and weapons as much as she seemed to. Silas was in the program with her, but she valued and respected it more. She liked it. It wasn’t just an elective for her. He hadn’t spoken to her briefly ever since the night before. It bothered her, but she pushed it away.

  Her shoulders were back, her chin up, as she lifted a Nadiance sword up over her head swiftly, and twisted it, as if she were in combat. Nadiance swords were the types of weapons you were supposed to only use as if you were in battle. The blade was thin and curved sharply at the ends. Designed to kill. The weapon was founded in the Wizardlands.

  She was inside of the black box. It was an elite training room that was only for the advanced. Fighting was a release for her, it gave her mind time to think about everything that happened to her the night before. She didn’t know what to do with her emotions, so they all had split out when she was practicing. It was a much better alternative than drug usage.

  The lights that had shined onto the black metallic walls inside of the room. To Scarlett, they were like her emotions that erupted out from her soul, as they finally stopped radiating from within her mind. She didn’t realize the tears that’d come from her eyes until she accidentally brought a Kilantra blade too close to her face and sharply grazed the delicate skin of her cheek. It hurt her, but at least she’d felt something other than sadness, or remorse. She blinked twice and dropped the sword to the ground.

  She then sauntered over to where the exit was, and pushed open the door. The skin of her cheek began stitching itself back together, as it healed itself. She shut the door to the black box number fifty-three, and sank to a seated position against the torch-lit wall of the hallway. There were other Vampric students that’d passed her by, along with teachers and important people of the education board, but she didn’t see them, she didn’t care.

  All she could think about was her step-parents. She’d tried to contact her stepfather, but it’d give the same message. ‘Error. Oracle Device has been discontinued.’ She’d figured he’d been murdered too. But why? It wasn’t going to be long until her mother’s friends would ask questions, or the company both her parents owned would go ballistic. She felt as if someone were watching her. That she would be the person next to get assassinated. The only person she truly trusted was Silas and his family, and Liveria. She clung so tightly to the idea of her and Silas being friends, and Liveria being her sister. It was all that she had left. She bit her lip at the mere idea at how the media was now, so involved in her life. Overnight.

  Their house had been all over the news, in the press, and social media. How Lillian and Avoirex Leontine had been attacked with Glycando bullets after hours. How their two daughters had escaped. How their Oracle company was going to collapse without the wonderful mind of her stepfather. Scarlett thought about how she and Liveria was going to have to take over their parent’s company. The press a way of twisting their words, too. Scarlett thought.

  She’d read a false story about how it was rumored that her stepfather had something to do with the fire, and how he�
�d been abusing Scarlett’s stepmother and the two daughters were too afraid to say anything. There was another story stating that her mother was mentally unstable, and drove herself to suicide, but didn’t mean to hurt her daughters. The stories were endless, and so were the possibilities. Not even Scarlett knew why they were being attacked randomly, or why her father’s Oracle was discontinued.

  Scarlett picked up the clear device that her Oracle was, and peered at all the missed text messages that she’d received from Saytrix Arlenhallow, besides the thousands of other messages she’d also received from random people who claimed they’d known her. She’d become an overnight one-minute celebrity, with all the drama and stories about the fire and her parents that had been popping up. She didn’t care about any of the fame or the attention. She missed the feeling of somebody loving her, in a parental way. Somebody watching over her, checking up on her. She felt as if she took it for granted. But suddenly, her and Silas in the bathroom the other night had crept into her thoughts. She looked over Saytrix’s texts and frowned. She’d decided that she needed to cut communications with Saytrix. If he didn’t want to believe what was right in front of him, neither was she. How she longed to speak with him, to discover if they truly were related, but, however, the motivation was gone. With her mother dead and her father absent, just like her real birth parents; she’d felt alienated.

 

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