𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦'𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳 .𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝.

| 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 |

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔
𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚊'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅

The cold winds seeped underneath the old woolen tunic of my shirt when I awoke. A brisk chill wrapped around my face, digging deeper into my skin.

Sun poured in between the vines that hung from the small cave I resided in. A shiver ran through my spine as I recalled the events of last night. God I'm so stupid.

Ever since I was younger I had been haunted by the castle. I remember the figures dancing gracefully in the ballroom, the echoes of laughter and the clatter of plates. I remember seeing a woman's head dipping, giggles escaping her as she scraped some food off of her partner's chin.

I remember the starry sky and the dark woods. I remember their claws and their burdened faces. But most importantly I remember the man that hid beneath his black cotton cloak.

Days after that event I would toss and turn in my small pink bed. I was frightened of the powers that seemed to flow through the creature I had encountered.

The kindness he showed to me, I remember that gentle look he gave me. How the sharpness in his features softened, his jagged mouth cracked up on the side forming a small smile.

But there was something else in that look I couldn't quite place. How his eyes dropped. How the very corners of his lips peaked down, a frown.
I shivered as I recalled the rest of him. His cloak is most of his identity, however those deep obsidian eyes seemed to caress even the light.

A strange thought occurred to me as I remembered the encounter in the ballroom. How old is he? Though outwardly he couldn't have been more than 20 years old, who knew how long the castle had been around.

When I first stepped in the dome, it was as if time was at a standstill. My dress aged itself, the fabric twisting into an attire fit for the Victorian era.

The way everyone spoke, sophistication and elegance oozed from their sparkling figures. The book from the library said they were tethered to the castle. But what does that mean?

Some of them, the living dead, wore wounds along their body as if their bodies hadn't changed since their death. But why are they still alive? How is it possible? What I had witnessed that night hadn't fully registered till now.

The impossible was recurring more than once. Though being led by a glowing necklace and climbing through an invisible dome was already breaking through the chains of reality.

I threw a rock against the cave's walls, the clash of the hard material bashed against the surface cutting the pebble in two. I had to forget about my questions for now, I couldn't be distracted from my escape, my survival.

I clutched my hair in my hands, my fingers grasping the threads of hair. God what have I gotten myself into? I shut my eyes tightly, slowly rocking myself back and forth on the moss. I had to get out of here. I needed to get home.

As I rested my head against the stone, I imagined myself cocooned under the safe haven of my bed. I envisioned the soft comforter nestled around my body, hugging me away from the shadows of the night.

I thought of my angel night light that rested in the corner of my room under my desk. The soft vibrant yellow light against my lilac colored wallpaper.

A quiet sigh escaped my lips as I recalled those thoughts. Before the Offering.

I sharply stood up from my spot on the grass when I heard a ruffling sound coming from outside. I quickly searched around looking for anything I could use to attack the intruders. I clenched my teeth, I spotted a sturdy stick on the ground.