꧁༺𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦༻꧂ - Ichabod Crane × Detective Reader

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖘

༺༒༻⒑༺༒༻

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#Flashback.1.

"You think you are the creator of your own thoughts, don't you?"

The haggard old woman asked again. Her voice, a thin layer of melody in the eardrums for the listeners, while her ashen lips perched in a firm line, her back was crooked in the front; making her posture a little too dull and stiff. She again leaned forward to be in the same level of the little girl's height. Even though her posture was crooked and weary; she still was tall, taller than most of the women. And though, there was thousand lines of wrinkles crossing over her pallid face and even the streaks of her hair tangled down over her shoulder in a bright silver luster; her eyes were still strangely alive and wise, probing, never leaving her face of deadly pallor . . .

"Why do you keep on asking me the same question again and again?" The little girl asked unflinchingly. She looked like of merely six summers of age.

Young Y/n made no assumptions on trying to turn her back towards the old woman. She just stared at her with an unaltered expression in her thinly veiled face, there wasn't any kind of hesitations, or fear of getting caught by anyone who would trespass the strangely deserted compound area of the L/n Mansion. She blankly stared back at the woman with her keen, angelic eyes; a type of aura was passing through the woman as she neared her, rather peculiarly.

"Because of your inscription towards your faith. Young lady." The old woman said, her voice lilac soft as if she was humming a lullaby in precise.

"My faith?" Y/n asked with an intact expression. As she reared herself up towards her; a hint of confusion flashed across her eyes.

Instead of giving her an answer. A thin layer of smile lingered across the woman's face, even though old and ashen skinned; she looked however thousand lines of wrinkles crossing over her pallid face and even the streaks of her hair tangled down over her shoulder in a bright silver luster; her eyes were still strangely alive and wise, probing, never leaving her face of deadly pallor . . .

"Why do you keep on asking me the same question again and again?" The little girl asked unflinchingly. She looked like of merely six summers of age.

Instead of giving her an answer. A thin layer of smile lingered across the woman's face, even though old and ashen skinned; she looked however enchanting with dreamy, blue eyes. She again peered exceptionally to an astounded Y/n from her black cloak, and deliberately straightened out her delicate, pale hands.

Y/n finally noticed that she had been holding a book throughout the time. She quietly plodded towards the side of the woman, ready to look at her book as she opened it upon her knees. The yellowing pages fell open.

She pointed her delicate, weak and wrinkled fingertips, and Y/n anxiously marvelled over it, as for in the living pages of the book she saw herself in it; it was a great story about herself. Her future, her past years and whatever she had been doing since ever she was born . . .

Y/n even caught a vision of the universe, the whole solar system and even more than that, she saw a different worlds of different dimensions; Timeless Dimensions.

She gasped with bewildered surprisement when she realized the actual meaning of the woman's words; the preposition of faith and destiny.

Because, the pages of the book were not even pictures; it was actually the hidden truths and realities of a human life. Y/n paused gravely - as her mind reeled like a running segments of thoughts, like few of the pieces of puzzles she just wanted to put together. Like a jigsaw puzzle.