Rio All Along

Chapter Four

AGATHA

"Sooo, how you been Ag? We haven't spoken in a long time," Rio observes my face as she chats.

"I'm doing just great—" I say with a snarky tone, suddenly regretting my choice when I see her appearance to eccentric.

"You've been a busy girl, haven't you? Running around practicing dark magick and I can't forget Silas Scratch," she laughs spitefully then walks over to a dusty-covered chair.

"You don't know nothing about me, or Silas, or me and Silas, okay?" I sigh, facing the opposite wall from her.

"Oh, I know a lot more than you think I know,"

I turned to face her as my face drops, but my face remains blank, not really deciphering what she meant.

"What are you hiding from me Rio?" I tut, beginning to walk closer to her.
"Why do you hate me?"

"Hate you? I loathe you, you're a baneful spirit that haunts my existence," she says, crossing her arms in solidarity.

"No, I think, I think you've missed me," I begin to walk her in her path, stopping placing my hands on the side of my hips.

"I've missed how it feels to pull a dagger to your neck," Rio spits, next to my direction.

"And that's all?" I faintly peer at the shape of her body, grabbing her hand closer towards me.

We're locking eyes and no one wants to break it, till there was a harsh bang.

"What is that?" I ponder, walking towards the windows of the small cottage.

In the distance it's white, everything is white because it was snowing, it was cold and glacial.
The trees had been submerged with a thick pile of snowfield, and half the stork had been sunken.

My eyes dart to part of the ground, slowly expanding into a puddle of scarlet- coloured blood. It stained the surface as my face unhurriedly dropped.

I bend ever so slightly so that I can peek out the window, seeing scads of blood stains all over. There's a deadly silence till followed with a tired groan, it was so quiet.

There's a man who I cannot see, his male frame is the only aspect I can depict of him. But the sound isn't coming from him, my eyes fall to the young girl on the floor being dragged— she was the one making that noise.

I can't help but pull myself up a tiny bit more, hoping I can see more of the scene.

This female is crying and there's not much life left in her, her breath breathing in distinctly shallow.

I turn to Rio, signalling her to come to my side. I can't believe I'm seeing this horror. She had bent down as followed and soundlessly made her way
to my person.

Once she was next to me, I spy my head upon the window another time and cannot see a print. The only thing my eyes spot is the thick pile of cherry blood from before.

"He's gone, they're gone," I mutter, dropping myself below from the window to the floor.

I'm spooked for sure, how this man had escaped with the helpless girl I had just witnessed. For a second Rio looks at me like I'm kooky, but steps out of it quickly looking paranoid herself.

"What are we going to do?" I cry staring at the ground hopelessly.

"Let's just stay here, we never saw them, okay?" Rio clutches my chin, my breath is shuddering and there's this awful feeling of dread in my stomach.

I nod my head. There's a clock somewhere in the room and the ticking is drilling through my forefront, is this not supposed to be abandoned?

"There's a bedroom at the further end of the left wing upstairs, we should get settled for the night," Rio prattles.

My head is spinning at a million miles per hour and I fear my breathing was becoming more facile by the minute.

"Yes, let's go," I follow her lead up the creaky stairs, they're old, wooden and squeaking. The house itself feels worn in but the cold presence in the air around us was a humble reminder that danger was everywhere.

The air felt thick, it felt heavy. We climbed the stairs and I almost felt as if my body was being pulled straight back, making me twitch.

"He's gone, Agatha, we're gonna be okay," she smiles corruptly, the smile on her mouth turning into barbarity for a second.

I gasp and pause in my tracks, she stops and turns confused, but the lour in her eye was still that same evil stare.

Snap out of it, I'm repeating inaudibly in my head.

We walk to the end of the wing and she opens a tall old-era looking door. There's a capacious sized bed full of outsized fluffed pillows. The aroma around us was cold and unsettling, having a chilly draft hit us as we opened the door.

"What if he comes back?" My heart stopping in its tracks several times, glancing at Rio for advice.

"You will be ready, we both will," the smile on her face is upright wicked when this is said. I don't know what to say or what to do, but pray that the immoral situation passes me instead of dragging me into the crossfire.