Rapunzel, Rapunzel

Chapter Four

Y'ALL THIS IS THE CHAPTER I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR BECAUSE MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER ENTERS✨💅🏻

And I actually got the motivation to write so yippee for that >:3 (probably 'cause I'm listening to THE BEST NIRVANA SONG EVER but anyways)

As she paced lightly through the woods, Finch Ryder's heart raced. The dying leaves and twigs crunched under her feet, making a sound like bones rattling through the vast evergreen, making her shudder every step. She drew he bow, ready to shoot anything that even did do much as twitch within her sight. She was tense. On edge. The flutter of footsteps, the quiver of a palpitating heart, the thrill of the hunt; all of which she usually loved, but it was different this time. It wasn't some rabbit or hare, no, it was much graver. Her brother had gone missing for a full day after claiming to go to the Dame's abode to steal, something both she and her parents had advised him against. Sure, she never particularly adored him. He was a whore, constantly womanising the ladies in the village, some even so fooled by his looks that they took multiple shots at taking his hand in marriage. Even so, a brother was more useful alive than dead. She kept her hands taught on the string of her bow, clammy palms slick against the shaft. What if she couldn't find her brother? What if he really was dead, and she was walking into the same trap, only to die a sick virgin and a waste of space? Finch took a deep breath. No. Because she was stronger than him. Better than him, or her parents would never have kept her. At the brink of the trees, just meters ahead, Finch was met with a large stone wall. Almost reaching to the clouds, so grand only a rich man could own, a limestone so fair and pale it seemed heavenly. She sighed, knowing this could only be one woman's wall: Dame Gothel's. The exact place Finn had claimed he was going. She grabbed a rock, fastening it to a long piece of rope and slinging it over the wall. It draped neatly over the wall like a noose around one's throat, and with a grunt, she started to clamber up the wall. While the rope was swaying dangerously, Finch had years of practice scrambling over and under walls. Her family was a long line of thieves, and her brother was often dumb enough to get caught in pretty sticky situations. She adjusted the bow around her torso as she climbed, finally reaching the top of the wall and almost gasping at the sight. Hundreds, if not thousands, of ripe lettuces, all crisp and glittering with dew in the early-dawn light. A stone tower almost the height of the wall she was perched upon, coated with bramble at the base. Birds sang warbled tunes in pear and apple trees bursting with such lush fruit that Finch couldn't help her mouth watering. The smell of spring rain and fresh mulch was carried in on a cold morning breeze. But there was a tinge of blood in the otherwise hopeful air as Finch frantically half-climbed, half-fell down the wall with aid of the slowly falling rope. She landed on the moist dirt, stumbling back as the rope toppled at the last second. She gasped slightly, hurriedly gathering the rope and crouching in a grove of mandarin trees so bright an orange it was sure to distract the Dame or any other person who happened to be in the giant garden. She glanced around, squinting into the large windows of the old Victorian-styled mansion. No one seemed to be around, so she cautiously stepped out of her hiding, pacing around the green expanses of the garden. She examined the lettuce patch for any sign of her clumsy brother tramping or squashing any of the foliage. Nothing. Finch kept walking, towards the tower, with a sense of dread pulling her stomach. What if Finn was in there... dead? She paced around the base, heart ablaze with fear as thoughts crowded her mind. Suddenly, a sharp breath escaped her as she tripped over a dark knot of brambles, face only just grazing the thorns as she stumbled. A pungent scent filled her nose, making her eyes water. Like something was rotting, almost metallic, like blood and old meat left out to corrode. Her pulse hitched as she looked back at the knot of weeds that had caught her foot. A pale pink cylinder poked ever so slightly from the soil, and bile built in the back of her throat as Finch realised what could be under the bramble. She pulled back the vines, uncovering a bloodied hand that was so unmistakably Finn's.

Finch screamed, almost throwing up, a horrified curiosity swallowing her body. She tore away more of the rot, revealing a torso with a rope draped across it, then a leg still bleeding and crawling with maggots and puss. 

'Finn, oh my God Finn..'

She trembled uncontrollably, letting out a sharp cry and stumbling back as she ripped the growth away from his face. She was jolted back onto the back of her head as the vines were torn from his eye sockets, splattering thick puss onto Finch's shaking hands. She scrambled away from his body, trying not to hyperventilate. As she tumbled away, Finch covered her eyes, lying back in the damp soil to regain her breath. She shivered, unable to remove the vision from her mind. Finn's body lay mauled in the vines, letting out a rotting scent. Taking a final, dragged breath, Finch leaned forward and shoved the vines back over his face. She couldn't stand to see his face. Finch took a deep breath, looking away and standing up. She wiped a cold tear from her now muddy face. Then, her eyes fell to the ground.

The blood slathering the vines.

Her poor brother's hand still poking out from the dirt. And another hand, not far away. Confusion and panic rekindling her heart, Finch glanced at the limb placed so daintily in the shrub. Long, slender fingers, pale skin, looking soft as silk. But under each perfectly curved nail, there were chunks of flesh and dried, sticky blood. 

No. Finch thought, looking away with a fleeting heart. 

I don't want to revisit that.

But her eyes found their way back to the body, and she stepped to the side to reveal a girl, about her age. Sick, gnarled cuts sliced her fair skin, limbs twisted slightly and flies swarming her sores. Her small frame just clung on to a loose purple dress that was ridged with dirt and blood. It was a true horror scene, right before young Finch's eyes. Her golden hair was splayed out in the vines almost peacefully, contradicting the messy state of the girl. Panicked, Finch lifted her hand to the girl's neck, feeling for a pulse. One second passed. Then two, then three, then four. Nothing happened. Finch was on her haunches, ready to leave the twisted hellhole of a garden, when there was a pulse.

As single, shallow pulse, cutting through the panic closing in on Finch's lungs. She instantly reacted, moving her hands down to the girl's abdomen and checking for any broken ribs. When she found that there were none, she slung the girl's limp body into her arms, her honey hair falling forward and over Finch's back. She gently lay the girl in the grass next to the lettuce patch, pressing her hands down onto her torso in an attempt to quicken her pulse. She brought her lips to the other's, the taste of blood mingling between the two, and puffed a breath of air into the girl's airway, her mind in complete fight or flight. After what seemed like an eternity, her heart rate steadied. Still slow, but faster than before. Gasping, Finch tore off a strip from her thin overcoat and gently brushed the flies from the wounds, before covering them with the clean fabric, the entire time muttering words of false hope. She fastened the last bandage, slung the light girl over her shoulder carefully, and began what would turn out to be a very long journey home.

And now y'all know why I haven't been posting for so long, it's because I've been creating this absolute MONSTER of a chapter 😜😤 Anyways, I'm so sorry for not updating but y'know, life is life, we gotta let life do the life stuff.

Also, I checked my stats on Wattpad and laughed so hard, whoever the hell from India and the Philippians are reading my book, thanks so much I only ever thought people from Australia or people I literally self-promoted to would read my book. So cheers to that one random Philippine  (did I spell that right?) guy who bothered to read, I hope you're into gay shit 'cause this book has it by the bucketful. Just wait for it, it's gonna happen soon. I hope. 🤞 

Thanks for reading, don't die and have a good night/day/whatever 🖤