Faetal Hearts

Chapter 2

The girl would be fine, Kheelan realized. In response, the corners of his lips tilted upwards in a grin- not one of mirth but of sinister thoughts. It did not seem he would have to wait long. He could hear the steady beat of the girl’s heart increase to a normal pace. Yes, not long now, and she would be his.

Estella felt a fog within her head- quite literally actually. It was as if a vapid mist had entered her head and hazed her thoughts and memories, leaving behind a strange, tingling sensation. She felt as if fingers pried through her thoughts, and she physically cringed at such a dark thought. What could possibly lead her to imagine that?

Little did Estelle realize that Kheelan did exactly what she had imagined. The images flashed before him, a steady haze of color within his mind. He saw images of a little girl, who appeared so much like the girl before him, images of a young girl who clearly was the girl before him, and images of a stoic woman with steely eyes. All three appeared much the same, yet their expressions that distinguished them.

Within her memories, he could see flickers of her past, and idly brushed through her thoughts. Perhaps he felt the faintest curiosity and odd fascination regarding the emotions that were linked so strongly to the vivid images of the three women and the dance that consumed their lives, but he immediately disregarded such thoughts. He pushed her own memories to the back of her mind. Kheelan wanted the girl entirely and irrevocably in the present.

Estelle struggled to open her eyes, but they remained firmly clasped shut. She could feel herself within her body, yet lacked any mobility whatsoever. Rather she attempted to explore her surroundings with her senses. The cool breath was moist upon her parched lips, burning as it passed. Her body ached from lack of movement. How long had she remained still, she wondered. And why did she feel so disconnected? She fought to remember, but the mist remained constant.

Gradually she felt it dissipate. The coolness flooded from her body to reveal a sear of agony. Her foot burned with intensity, reminiscent of the injury. Her heart dropped suddenly. Her career. Her dance. Suddenly she remembered it all- how she had plummeted to the ground inexplicably. She shouldn’t have fallen. Nothing had gone wrong. Yet somehow everything had. In that instance, her dreams were shattered.

In that second, her eyes snapped open. Her gaze remained blurred with festering tears as she took in her foreign surrounding. There were no white walls as she had expected, no gurney still beneath her, no sterile scent of hospitals. No, instead a scarlet plush bed remained beneath her- far too luxurious for her meager salary. Her career depended on her ability to dance. Without she was broke. The company was her only family, yet it was one that cared little for her wellbeing. She was a commodity, and one that could easily be replaced. Surely her understudy had already done so.

That left a single question. If she had no one in the world that cared for her now, then where did that leave her?

It was also question that she meant quite literally. Her environment was strange; there was no denying that. But who had brought her here, she wondered as she took in the draping fabric that cascaded about the bed she lay. Her body still remained still and immobile yet she could faintly perceive an outline of a chandelier, emitting a rosy glow from multi-faceted twinkling crystals. The light was dim and the room largely cast in shadows.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps, and recognized the perceivable sound of breathing. No heavily down her neck, but somehow the natural sound scent a shudder of chills down her spine. She remained motionless on the bed, helpless as fear blossomed within her chest. Why? She hadn’t the faintest clue, but something was wrong. She could feel in the butterflies within her. Something was terribly wrong.