by Ainsley Shay
Snow and I glanced at each other. Our perplexed faces mirrored one another’s.
Snow edged her way in between them. “Okay, I know Iris is naturally blonde, her hair being blonder than blonde, so she has an excuse for not getting what the hell is going on here. But me, I’m naturally a brunette and I’m completely at a loss. So, one of you had better tell us what is going on!”
I was thankful Mr. Yves wasn’t in the store, he hated foul language, especially when it came out of a girl’s mouth.
“Snow, why don’t you give the cowardly lion and me here a minute?” Chandler smirked at his own joke. His cocky attitude was back.
“Uh, I don’t think so.” I instantly had a vision of Yves Antique Pages becoming a boxing ring for the two of them.
“What have you told her?” Blacwin asked Chandler.
“She needs to figure most of it out for herself.” Chandler broke eye contact then. He didn’t look at anyone in the room. His eyes were busy as they searched for something to rest on.
Shock was all over Blacwin’s face. “You haven’t told her yet, have you?”
Snow was not letting either of them out of this. She’d hold on until one of them broke down and told her something that would satisfy her curiosity. “Told who, what?”
“Like she’d believe me,” said Chandler.
Blacwin looked like Chandler had a point. He thrust his hand through his hair and turned away from all of us. When Blacwin turned back, his eyes found mine. But, when he spoke, he was still talking to Chandler. “She deserves to know.”
“Know what?” Snow tried again.
Chandler let out an audible breath in defeat. “Shit,” he whispered. The music filled the void of the silence that followed.
After a few moments, I said, “I can only assume, you’re talking about me, so someone, please tell me what won’t I believe?” I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. Neither of them fessed up. “You guys have got to be kidding. I mean, seriously, if you haven’t noticed, my entire life is on the platform of unbelievable. So, I don’t think anything that you guys have to tell me can shock me anymore.”
Blacwin looked away from me and glanced at Chandler. Chandler’s eyes met his and he nodded. Cocky Chandler was no more. At that moment, he was as insecure as I had ever seen him. “I’m your brother.”
Okay, I lied. I was shocked; so shocked that I felt like I had just been shot out of a cannon and was soaring across Neverland right now.
“Brother, like from the same womb kind-of-brother?” Snow questioned.
Chandler nodded. “Sort of.”
That was it; Snow untangled her arms, and her face was full of rage. “Are you on drugs? ’Cause I don’t date guys who smoke that shit, swallow pretty little pills, or anything else that causes you to lose your fucking mind!” She was shouting now. Her patience had run out, and by the look on Chandler’s face, this was the first time he’d seen her freak out. He stepped back a little.
My face felt hot, and my hands were clammy. I rubbed them on my jeans, and the simple movement drew the other three’s attention. Seeing Snow’s face, I knew she wasn’t done, and I didn’t know what to do to calm her down. I didn’t know if I even wanted to, since I seemed to have lost the ability to speak for myself.
“I’ve known Iris since she was this big.” She seriously held her hand by her knee indicating I was only two feet tall in third grade. “And, I would know if she had a brother.”
“I know it doesn’t make sense,” Chandler agreed.
It was like Blacwin and I weren’t in the room anymore. I stole a glance at him and he was walking toward me. How ironic, I was in a room surrounded by millions of words and I couldn’t think of even one to say. When Blacwin was a few feet away from me, he reached his hand out to me, but I didn’t move.
“Don’t touch her!” Chandler yelled.
My voice broke. “Stop. Please just stop.” I don’t know if anyone heard me. I’m not even sure if I asked aloud. But then, Blacwin lowered his arm and stopped where he was. I wanted the fighting to stop. I wanted to understand. I wanted all of this to be over, even if it took me down with it. I knew if it did, there was only one ending to this madness... an unhappy one. But, I had reached the point where I was ready.
37
Snow had slept over after she took the non-paying job I offered her at the bookshop. She had helped me until I closed the store early, around four. I desperately needed her company after the day’s events. She made the time together feel normal. Then, the nightmare came; Chandler was right about one thing, they were getting worse. I wondered how many more nights I had to suffer. I didn’t know how much more I could take. The nightmares were relentless. Each night before I went to bed, I begged it would be the final one. Why couldn’t she/I be rescued or escape, or hell, die even? To be put out of her—and my—misery.
25 days after ~
I knew the knock on the door would be the last. Whoever was on the other side was sent to either see if I’d reconsidered my decision, and tried to love the devil himself, or bring me to my death. I chose the latter. My decision would never change. I could love him no more than the creature who guarded the well with the precious stone.
I had dressed in the light colored dress that I had arrived in. One mistaken stop, and here I was, greeted by my own death at only seventeen, never to be married or to have children. Or to be found and rescued by a man I hadn’t even been acquainted with, but one I was to live happily ever after with.
The knock came again, and this time, the click of the lock. The door opened, and it was the guard with the dark eyes. “Have you made a decision?”
By the look in his eyes, he knew I had. I could have sworn I saw sorrow. Probably imagined, as I hoped that someone would feel something for me, though I did not want pity or sadness, I wanted to feel like I would be remembered.
I rose from the edge of the bed and let him introduce me to death. I prayed it would be swift and painless. Lord Darenfys stood under the painted dome. He was looking up and admiring the art; his personal guard, stood on the wall of the corridor on the other side of the room. The Lord looked at me and held his arms out wide as I approached him.
“Ah my love, you are beautiful.”
I stopped short of him being able to touch me with his outstretched arms.
“I’ll take it that since are you wearing that dress to mean you’ve made your decision not to try to love me.”
I didn’t need to answer.
“My sweet girl, I will miss you.” He tried to take my hand and I jerked it away. He nodded to his personal guard. He left the wall and came to stand at my side. “Make sure she is well taken care of.”
The guard who brought me began to follow us. “Son,” the Lord said to him, “there is no need for you to go; Penemuel will bring Lady Catherine to her place of rest.”
I turned and looked behind me. The guard stood frozen under the dome. My heart tumbled downward. He had been the only one to show me any kindness while I’d been here. I wanted him to be the one to take me. I turned away from him and followed Penemuel into the depths of the castle. Down stone staircase we went. The farther we went down into the belly of this hell, the narrower the staircase became, and the farther apart the torches.
When we reached the final step, we stood at an iron gate. I knew if I passed through, I would never be coming back from the other side of it. He released the latch and pushed me inside. Surprisingly, he followed me and closed the gate behind him. We walked down the constricted corridor. On either side were cells. Most were empty. Some contained what I thought were once men, but now only traces remained. Penemuel called, and two men who wore no armor or masks came out from one of the cells. They looked like they were prisoners themselves, dirty and disheveled, like the servants in the dining room, only more so. They bowed to Penemuel.
“This is Lady Catherine. She means a great deal to the Lord. Make sure she is well taken care of.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Th
eir eyes were greedy, devouring me with their stares.
“If she is touched in any way that is... inappropriate, you will die very, very slowly.”
Their faces fell when they realized I wasn’t their play toy. I said a silent prayer.
Penemuel turned and went back through the gate. He took one last look at me. “You’ve made a very poor choice. Pride, my dear, will only kill you.”
After I woke I dreaded more than ever to fall asleep, and succumb to the haunting nightmares. The only good thing—if you could call it good—was at least I knew how Penemuel knew about Skelside.
38
“I hate leaving you like this.” Snow was packing her overnight bag to go home.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured her.
We had talked for hours about our feelings for two guys who betrayed us. Chandler had called both our phones no less than a million times. Blacwin tried my phone for the first hour or so after I made him leave the bookshop, then he relented. Snow and I stayed in last night and all day we watched movies and survived on whatever was in the fridge and cupboards. Thank God for frozen pizza and Ramen Noodles. She hugged me goodbye, and I watched her until I saw her drive away.
I took a hot shower and changed into clean clothes. The thought of turning on the TV was not appealing. I grabbed my book off the nightstand and turned to the bookmarked page. Crap. I hadn’t read it in so long that I had to go back and read the last few pages before I started the new chapter.
Hours had passed as I lied in bed and read. My phone chirped. It was a text from Snow to check on me. I was better, but all of the crap that happened lately, especially in the last twenty-four hours had been screwed up. I had a brother—at least that’s what I was told.
It was close to eleven when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I made sure my alarm was set on my phone. I needed to get to school early to be transferred out of Mr. Pene’s class, and into another class. At this point, I hadn’t cared if it was automotive.
I was grateful when sleep came easily... until the nightmare reared its ugly head and slid into my slumber.
26 days after ~
I was led to my final resting place. And, I truly believed that it was. I would rot behind those bars before I was given a proper burial. During my first night, I wasn’t hungry or tired. I was too angry to feel caged. I wanted nothing more than to kill Lord Darenfys. But, I knew that was impossible, especially from this cell. Aside from the anger, I felt nothing. Mostly nothing, until I thought of the guard who had apologized for bringing me to Skelside. His eyes were as dark as night and sad. He had been my guard since I had arrived, and I never knew his name.
Over the last week, my body had become accustomed to sleeping during the day and being awake at night. At least I thought that was the case. I hadn’t seen the sun since arriving at Skelside, except the one time when I saw a sliver of it rising when I was outside for my inevitable failed challenge with the beastly dog. I had wondered a hundred times why the stone in the well was so important; now I would never know. Not that it mattered. When I had fallen asleep, it was restless.
I woke to the two guard-slaves standing over me like they had been waiting for me to become conscious.
“What do you want?” I asked.
Their rotten toothy grins suggested they wanted more from me than what Penemuel said they could have. Again, I said a silent prayer.
“You need to eat,” the shorter one said.
My appetite had completely diminished. I don’t think I’d ever be hungry again. He left the cage, while the taller one stayed behind. He sat on a bale of hay and stared at me. Disgusted, I looked away from his filthy face. I found myself picking my thumbnail. I’d broken the habit when I was twelve. Now, here I was, five years later, picking the same nail on my right hand.
The short guard returned. He entered my cell and handed me a goblet. It wasn’t fancy like the ones in the dining room, but a goblet no less. I peered inside at its contents. Thick dark liquid coated the sides as it sloshed from side to side.
“What is this?”
The slave-guards looked at each other, then back to me. Their roaring laughter echoed off the walls in the small room.
I didn’t think what I had asked was funny, but they obviously found humor in it. The short one slapped his knee. “Dinner, my Lady.”
I brought the goblet to my lips. The smell was sweet and putrid. My stomach roiled with revulsion. I threw the goblet across the cell. Their laughing ceased and their faces were etched with something other than humor: anger, fear, I didn’t know which, maybe both. That’s when I felt the slow burn of my own fear seep into my veins and travel through my entire body. The short one left again and returned with another goblet, and handed it to me. Again, I threw it at the cell’s wall. I refused to drink whatever was in that goblet. The slave-guards left my cell, slammed the door and locked it.
“She’ll come around.” I heard one of them say as they went down the hall to who knew where. I wrapped my dress around my legs. I would starve to death before I drank what was in that cup.
The next few days came and went. I was in and out of consciousness, in and out of pain and anger. I had lost myself to the depths of Hell. There was no return. The final thought was devastating and also a relief as I prayed for my death to come quickly.
I heard the sliding of the bolt and then the door as it creaked open. Through the haze of hunger and the fuzz of sleep, I saw both of the guards standing over me; one held a goblet.
I shook my head. No. No. No. No. No. I heard the repeated word loud inside my head, but I knew my lips hadn’t moved. From the corner of my eye, I saw the short one move above my head. The tall one went to my feet. He straddled me, and I tried to thrash. The short one pressed his knees on both of my arms, pinning them as well. I looked up and saw the goblet he held. I tried to roll from side to side, throw my weight, but I was too weak.
“Open wide,” one of them said.
“Taste him.” The short one held the goblet steady over me, and as soon as I opened my mouth to scream, he poured the liquid into my mouth. I choked and coughed on the thick drink. I turned my head and the red liquid spilled out of my mouth. I sealed my lips tight. The guard grabbed my nose and pinched it shut.
“You’ll get used to it.” He stole a glance at the other guard. “We did.” They snorted and laughed.
I held my breath for as long as I could before I had to gulp air. As soon as I did, the liquid gushed into my mouth.
The guards released me and stood. I rolled to my side; my face was in the puddle that had leaked out of my mouth. The stench of blood made my insides churn, and I threw up. I used my dress to wipe my face.
“My Lord will be pleased.”
With those words I knew death was the last thing Lord Darenfys wanted for me. My stomach lurched again knowing there was a part of him swimming inside me. It was his blood they had forced me to drink. Lord Darenfys was part of me. He slithered through my insides, oozing himself into my heart and in my head, breathing my air from my lungs, and pulsing through my veins.
I invited death, begged for it.
Screams ripped from my throat and I was grateful Snow had gone home. I would have given her a heart attack for sure. The horror of the nightmares had increased to a new level. The pen punctured the paper as I pressed down. I looked at the clock and it was almost five in the morning. I washed my face and got a glass of water. A knock on my door caused my heart to race as if in a marathon. I stood frozen in the kitchen. The knock came again, and with it, Chandler’s voice. “Iris, are you all right?”
I walked to the door; unsure I wanted to open it to a guy who was in my nightmares from hundreds of years ago, yet stood at my door before dawn wondering if I was okay.
“I’m fine. Go away,” I yelled through the door.
“No. Let me in.”
“You sound like the big bad wolf that needs to be committed to a padded room.”
I looked through the peephole. He was thrust
ing his hand through his hair in frustration. “Iris, tonight’s was bad, wasn’t it?”
Now I ran my hand through my own hair with irritation. “Stop doing that!” I turned the bolt and he was over the threshold before the door was completely open.
“How bad was it?”
Defeated and exhausted, I answered, “Bad.” I went to my bed and sat. Crying was not an option. I needed to stay strong to get through this, especially if they were only going to get worse.
“What happened?”
I was too embarrassed to voice the fact that I’d watched myself being forced into a position to drink blood. The thought was nauseating. I forced the water and bile back down my throat. I pointed to the journal on the coffee table.
Chandler picked it up and thumbed to the last page. As he read it, his face darkened and turned into a mask of anger. He set the journal back down and went to sit on the couch. “They were trying to make you like us.”
I stood near the door with my arms wrapped around waist. “What are you?” The temperature seemed to drop. Thunder roared outside as if it was a drumroll for his answer—that is, if he gave me one.
He leaned back on the couch. My world was so demented and twisted, I actually let him get comfortable, the one guy who should be locked in the crazy house was resting his left ankle over his right on my coffee table.
“We’re not completely human.”
I had my notions about otherworldly beings; beings I never believed existed. But, to hear it being verified by someone who calls himself my brother was insane. “Chandler, are you and Blacwin categorized in the they part of that statement of my dad’s letter?”
He looked off toward the balcony and gave me a slight nod.
My conversation with Mr. Yves began to play in my head; Lord Darenfys was a fallen angel who wanted nothing more than to be a man. He wasn’t a vampire. So, why were they forcing me to drink blood like one? WTF! What were they trying to change me into? The spinning thoughts in my head rammed into each other with every fictional thing I knew and loved to read about; but none of it made any sense, or the fact that I believed it. The nightmares and statues, Blacwin and Chandler, were all very real, those facts alone were crushing everything I had ever known and believed to live only in my imaginary worlds.