THE SECRET OF THE ROSES

The shadow in the night

Part five: Francis Machiavelli

“Ah, she will pay for denying me what is rightfully mine.” He muttered to the wind, his voice was as cold as ice. “Oh, I mustn’t forget her watchdog; that despicable Raphael. I was supposed to be her master, not him. “He doesn’t know how to control her,” he spat at this. “Francis, my lord!” a cry came from down the hall. “Yes, what is it?” was his reply. The assassin walked though the door way which had snakes carved into them. He kneeled before Francis and said “My lord, I have news for you; I found her!” At this he jumped from his seat. This sudden movement startled Nichcollo; he had never seen his lord so pleased by hearing anything before this. “Yes, she will finally be mine. I will be her master at last. I’ll double your pay for this year Nichcollo.” He said to the Assassin. “I still remember eight years ago when she slipped from my fingers.” He thought to him self;

      We were six when we first met, it was September sixth. Our families had set up an arranged marriage for us, I knew that her family had in the past some strong women as well as a little above average women, who had this weird feeling about them. It was as if they were saying “just try to hurt me,” kind of feel. When our parents left us, she said she wanted to walk in the garden. So I took her there. However she refused to hold my hand, and when I tried to hold her hand, I felt a jolt of pain running though my hand up my arm. I then knew that this couldn’t be natural. I had never believed those legends about her family’s origin or supposedly power. I just sat at the stone bench about ten meters away from her and the roses. Our garden is about 180 acres long; we had roses, cat lilies, lilies, and orcedes growing all around. The stone bench that I was sitting on was underneath an oak tree.

  Out of no where I heard a scream, I ran to see what was wrong, and she had pricked her finger on a thorn of a rose she was trying to pick. She wouldn’t let me get her parents; she was crying when I saw it. One of her tears rolled off her chin on to her pricked finger and to my atonement it was healed immediately. It was then that I knew it was true. I couldn’t believe it! She was her the goddesses Demeter reincarnate, ether the savior of the world or the destroyer. That explains the weird feeling they gave off, the shock I felt when I tired to hold her hand.

Soon after I grabbed a book written by a person who had encountered a being like Aria my fiancé. I wanted to know more about her, to my haroower the book I had grabbed contained an evil spirit who wished to control the incarnation of Demeter. He possesses me and consumed my pure and innocence soul, turning it into an evil soul to fit his own.