Captivity Defined

Chapter Eleven

Christine stared at the spot he had been mere seconds before, briefly wondering how he managed to always disappear so quickly. And of course now that he was gone, she had absolutely no idea what she was to do. Was she supposed to return to her room like an obedient puppy? Or was this her chance to explore her surroundings a little more?

With little hesitation, she ended up choosing the latter option and slowly walked out of the dining room, pushing back the feeling deep down in her stomach that she shouldn't be doing this. He was the one who had left her alone without any specific instructions.. surely he didn't actually expect her to just go to her room when she had a chance to explore!

Of course, that helped soothe the feeling but it didn't push it away completely. Ignoring it, she walked down the long hallway, admiring the dark wooden flooring and many paintings which adorned the walls. Curiosity overwhelming her, she stepped closer to one of the paintings.

It was breathtakingly beautiful. Whomever the artist was had painted the most gorgeous red rose she had ever seen in her life. In fact, the only roses that she would have to compare the painting with would be the very ones that he himself had given to her all those times...

She sighed, gently tracing the strokes of the paintbrush with her fingers, remembering how simple those times were when her Angel had been just that... a celestial being from the heavens. Had it truly been only three days ago when she had still believed that he was indeed a true Angel?

Christine shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the past and regret that she had trusted so easily. Meg had always warned her that her personality was too trusting, that someday someone would take advantage of her sweet personality. And of course, she had been right.

She turned away from the rose, curious to explore more of this place she was now to call "home". Walking down the hallway, she saw many doors, but had no strong urge to enter into any of them except for the one that was way down the hall.

It was in the darkest corner of the hallway, for though there were many candles lit and adorning the walls of the hall, they stopped two doors down from where this particular door was.

She stopped directly in front of the door, reaching out and touching the silver handle to open it. She pulled her hand away, however, when she thought she heard footsteps coming towards her in the hallway. Nervously, she slowly looked over her shoulder behind her, expecting to see a very tall and very displeased certain person staring at her from the other end of the hall.

But to her surprise and glee, there was no one in the hall, and the mirror at the beginning of the hallway reflected nothing but the empty dining room. Sighing in relief, she turned back to the door and once more put her hand on the handle.

Turning it, she walked quickly into the room and shut the door behind her, her heart racing in her chest nervously as she did so. As she closed the door all the way, she felt her body relax slightly, though she truly had no clue why.

Christine slowly took her hand off the pure silver handle and turned from the door to look at the room. But it definitely was not what she had expected...

The room wasn't huge, but it definitely wasn't small either. But what caught her attention the most was the seemingly thousands of paintings which hung on the wall.

Slowly she let her gaze travel over each and every one of them in horror. The paintings... were of her.

In some she was smiling, in others she was simply staring off into space, and one in particular had captured her sleeping.

It was as if she had stepped into a roomful of mirrors, for that was exactly how accurate the paintings were of her. Everything from her hairline to the way her nose was shaped had been captured to the utmost perfection.