The Obscure Life of Madaline Swann Book 1: The Lost Kingdom

One

" Keep running." The voice commanded. Though where it came from, she don't know, and definitly didn't plan sticking around to find out.

So she ran, from what, she don't know. But something inside of her told her that there was a good reason that she should be running away.

Her natural fight or flight instinct is most definitely flight.

The faster she ran, the closer she felt the presence of whatever was chasing her. It felt as if she was being pulled towards the thing, rather than running away from it.

She needed to get away, but how?

Darkness surrounded either side of her, and even if she wanted to go left, or right, she couldn't. It was as if she was set on a track, and could only go one way, forward.

And then, it was there. The door. A tall, wood door, surrounded by an arch of stone covered by leaves. At least they used to be leaves, now only dead vines remain. Only about fifteen yards infront of her. Surely she could make it!

She got the familiar sensation that she had been here before, and not just because she's dreamt about it so often.

Somehow, she know that getting to the door could guarantee her safety from this thing. So she began to run harder, her legs aching and lungs gasping for air, but it seemed as if the door were moving away from her. No matter the distance she ran, it was as if she just remained in the same spot.

"No, please." she yell out, to no one in particular.

She pushes herself to run harder. But the door keeps moving back, farther and farther with every step she takes. Tripping on an overgrown root, she falls to the hard floor. As soon as she hit the floor, she knew she had twisted her ankle. There's no way she could keep running away from the thing, and towards the door.

"You have failed." the voice exclaims, and the door starts to disappear.

"No! No, please!" she yelled, but the door disappears, and she is immediately consumed by the darkness.

She woke to the sound of distant humming and the scenery of the open, green pastures speeding by.

"Im so sorry to wake you miss, but, your stop is coming." A tall man wearing a dark, navy, blue suit and brass buttons said. She leaned back against the velvet of her seat and blinked a few times before her eyes gained full focus.

"Thank you." she whispers lightly and he nods slightly before continuing to do his rounds, moving about the car and informing vairous people about the upcoming stop. She picked up the book that had dropped when she had fallen asleep, before leaning back against the window of the train and watched the overwhelming green pass by.

"Not a very good book, I take it?" an elderly woman who sat facing her asked. She was sweet. A grandmother, on her way to see her great grandchildren in the country, she told her when they had first become aqauinted. She smelled faintly of mint and cucumber, the scent of her hand lotion that she reapplied every hour or two.

"I guess not." she lied. It was actually her favorite book, the heroine, Rosalinda, being the only person in the whole book who could pull herself together and actually fight while the rest of the charcters told her to not even bother, that she would die if she did. She died, of course, but that wasn't the point.

***

She stepped off the train and into the cold wind. The wind blew against her petite form, making her shiver to the bone. The sun had started to go down, and the temperature had decreased drastically. Madaline wrapped her arms around herself, in hopes of saving at least a fraction of her body heat. Her hoodie didn't exactly shield her from the cold.

"Excuse me," she asked a passing man whose hair had started to grey. "Where can I get a car?"

The man seemed confused, and it took Madaline a while before she realized why. "Unde pot obține un taxi?" she asked again.

The man nodded, understandingly, and pointed her in the direction of the taxi service. She kindly thanked him and went on her way.

She was picked up in a not-so-old taxi that smelled of evergreen trees and artifictially flavoured tropical gum, and the man was equally as nice. She payed him in advance and told him the address to where he would drop her off.

Not twenty minutes later, she arrived at a hotel. She thanked the man again and slipped out of the car, waiting until the cab had driven off before she turned around and walked away from the hotel.

Luggage in hand, she walked down a few blocks. The wind had picked up, blowing Madaline's ruby red hair across her porcelain skin. She quickly dipped into a semi empty coffee house and ordered a medium sized coffee before heading back out into the accelerating wind.

She moved unseen down the crowded streets, block by block by block, until she came upon a quiet brick apartment building. The red stone faded to a dull rust colour.

She entered the two story building and climbed the stairs, using both hands to carry the heavy bag up with her.

Stopping to retrieve the paper from her pocket, the sticky-note of two number and a letter.

23B

Walking to the correct door, she reached up to the ledge above the door and pulled down the key, put it into the lock, and pushed open the door into a light, one room, apartment.

The bare walls painted a blueish-cream colour, and the floor was of a dark wood. The room itself was empty, except for a new matress, curtesy of whoever had sent her here.

Who had sent her here?

She still didn't know, and it made her skin crawl, just wondering about who it could be.

Deciding not to dwell on the subject, she placed her bag down on the floor, brought out her laptop and charger and started going to work.

Adam Kariev. The name she had memorized the moment she left her apartment in Seattle. He lived in the next city over, just a mere 5 minute metro ride, in an apartment paid for by his dead mother's life insurance. Apparently the person who sent her here wasn't too happy about what ever this guy was doing with his time. The job was to follow him, wherever he went, which of course took half of what she was paid just to get her across the world. Lucky for the guy who hired her, he promised to double her pay if she brought back more viable information other than what Mr. Kariev had for lunch on Monday.

He hadn't been clear on what constituted as viable information, but hell, who was she to ask questions?