Ethereal Dusk

Chaper 15

I dream of color, of beauty, of loss.

I dream of a creek, quiet and rushing no where in particular. A great tree, its trunk twisted and thick. The branches spread out further to the sides rather than up. Maybe it didn't want to leave the earth where it had been planted. So every year it preferred the horizon to the stars. Yet still bloomed beautifully as it waited for... it was waiting for something.

Purple flowers, fragrant and plenty. So beautiful. So familiar. Tears and an aching soul. The heart wrenching cry of a mans loss, of anger. Something terrible happened here. Darkness and a twisted soul. Smoke and destruction. And then, more loss.

"And so I'll wait for you," a woman whispers.

"Until the last star in the universe burns out, and forever turns into nothing."

My eyes snap open as I look around for the source of the whispers, but am met with confusion instead. I sit up from the pillow and pull the black weighted comforter down off my shoulder.

Where the hell am I? What happened?

Fear and panic begin to set in as I throw my legs over the bed and look for the nearest weapon. Maybe I was drugged and kidnapped away to some dark gothic styled house by the Chelan Reaper. Or some old creep. Whatever the situation, I didn't belong here.

Dim candles light the large room. Multiple dressers and pieces of art cover the dark unfamiliar walls. Though to my surprise, I am not tied up or hurt anywhere. And there seems to be plenty of objects that could be used as weapons around me.

I quickly rise to my feet and halt in front of the huge mirror that sits next to the bed. What the hell am I wearing? I run my hands over my chest and down my stomach. It's a burgundy night gown that reaches my ankles. The cuffs around my wrists lace, the trim of the neck a V that doesn't reach down too far. It's loose and lightly flowing with every movement.

A weapon! Get it together Roslyn.

I quickly walk over to an oak dresser with a tray of food on it. Fruits, nuts, and an assortment of meats and cheeses litter the tray. A half sliced up loaf of bread sits next to a plate of seasoned butter, the bread knife neatly placed next to the plate. I snatch the knife from the surface and quickly walk to the door, placing an ear on the black painted wood to listen.

I hear deep murmurs coming from somewhere down a hall maybe? Two voices having a heated conversation. If I could just slip away while they were distracted.

I place my hand on the cold steel handle as I slowly twist the knob to avoid any creaking. The large door clicks open as I pull it, careful with each and every movement as I hold my breath.

The floor is some type of black and white marble, shimmering all around. As I peer to the left I see one more room and a large window. It's a dead end, and we appear to be on a second floor. My bare feet scream at me from the cold as I grip the knife with my sweaty hand and begin to tip-toe down the extremely large hall. I need to find the nearest exit and make a run for it. Which just so happens to be in the direction of the voices.

Old and beautiful paintings cover the walls that are hard to see because only one small candle lights every fifteen feet. This is no normal house. This is clearly a fucking mansion. And a huge one at that.

Whoever kidnapped me must be... wait. A flash of green eyes and swords storm my memory. Bloodshed and horrible smell. That had to all be a dream, right? The shadow man can't be real. None of this can be.

I tip-toe further down the hall toward the voices, a green hue glows out into the hallway from a room a few doors down.

"Roman this is not a matter to be discussed. I gave an order and I need results. There is absolutely no reason the source should not be sitting at my feet with its head on the end of your swo--"