Scarlet Crypt

Lucid Dream

The sound of an early morning’s breeze woke me up at dawn. I stared up at the ceiling and I remembered a memory of a girl’s screams of pain and agony in one of the kingdom’s chambers.

In my dream, I recalled, I pretended that I was asleep when my mother came to my room soundlessly, peering back and forth from the room to the outside area. I didn’t actually know why she had to check me, since I wasn’t the trouble maker among our siblings. I observed that mother and father were both acting peculiar lately, but I erased the thought from my mind.

When she closed the door, I bolted towards my window and looked at the sentinels guarding the brick walls of our kingdom. Most of them were marching and shouting, telling each other to scour the palace. From what, I did not know, but I was sure that the rebels were responsible of the commotion. They were always the source of havoc in the nation. Never has a day passed that I’ve never heard the word rebels or enemies in my life. I heard voices outside my room, so I paced towards the door and opened it a little to peek at who were talking. My father, with his elegant sky patterned robe, talked to my mother and to a tall, skinny man wearing nothing but a towel.  I realized that the man wea­­­­ring the towel was our butler. I swallowed a laugh and my mother heard the small noise that I made. I closed the room and leaned on the door to hear what they were saying.

“I don’t know how she got away, sire,” our butler said. I recognized the voice of Sherman, our butler, filled with doubt and fear. “I was sure the gates were all­ closed and I also checked the security room. All rooms were locked with the latest key code, and none can ever hope to unlock them.”

“I understood that, Sherman. But what I don’t understand is how she got out. She’s only what? Nine years old? Ten? Surely, no imbecile child can open up the doors.” I could hear the edge of my father’s voice. I can tell from his tone that he was trying not to shout. Maybe he didn’t want us to hear what he was saying. Too bad for him, though. I’m right here eavesdropping effortlessly.

“Dear, calm down,” my mother said sweetly. Her voice is always sweet, as if she has never faced a single problem in her life. The lack of face lines in her beautiful features gave it out. “I think the child was trained for these types of things, Leo. And I don’t think that we could possibly stop her even if we were aware.

“I just don’t understand. This castle is way advanced, much more complex compared to the other facilities and buildings outside our walls. How could a child be able to unlock the doors without even knowing the password?” My father let out a huge sigh and my concentration in listening to their conversation was interrupted by a tap on my window. I turned my head around and almost banged my head against the wall as I saw a girl around my age holding hard against a big glass window opposite the door, in the terrace. Her eyes were as gray as a stormy sky, but they were wild and scared. She had a small bruise under her left eye and a thin scar on her temple; her copper hair was a wild mess and her clothes were unfamiliar and peculiar to me. She tapped my window again, harder this time, and mouthed ‘Help.’ I ran towards the window and opened it.  “ Please, please. Help me,” the girl said, panting. She had the voice of an innocent and terrified child. She was probably around my age, maybe a little younger perhaps, but close.  “I need to get out now or else they’ll kill me.” Tears were rolling from her eyes as she grabbed my arm. “Please!”

Instantly, I understood what my father and mother mentioned outside the hall. They mentioned an escapee child. I knew the girl I faced right now was the one they’ve mentioned who escaped the mansion’s locks. She was definitely smart and capable, since no untrained child could possibly unlock or escape a tool from the GENSA laboratories. They were the best among technological advances, I’ve heard. But why my father wanted to keep an innocent child prisoner, I don’t know. A side of my conscience tugged at me to help this girl, but another part cowered in shame in the thought of not relieving my father of the problem he was currently facing. I knew I wanted none of the shame, and so both of the different parts of my conscience agreed to aid this child, but to not be caught red-handed.

 I paced across my room and opened my closet. I grabbed the spare card my father gave me the first time the keylocks were applied to our home, opened the glass window and gave it to her. “Here,” I said. “Use this to open the door behind the castle. It is hidden under vines and leaves. You would recognize the door knob as you get in there, but you will have to use this card as a key to open it, okay? Stop crying. You should go now.”

“Thank you,” she said after she sobbed one more time. She looked me straight in the eye, wiped her eyes clear and to my surprise, said,” You’re different. You don’t belong here. They’re mean to people here. Come. ”

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I-”, I struggled for words.”You must go. Now. Unless you want to be captured again.”

I saw the fear creep back into her eyes as she hurriedly took a step downwards. I watched her go and I realized that I didn’t even ask her name. I also realized that even with the bruises and scars on her face she was pretty.

My thoughts were interrupted by an unusual sound of a trumpet. I stood up, made my messed up bed, and made my way outside towards the nearest well where we usually washed. My bunkmate stirred – Garrick, I remembered – as I slowly picked up my shoes across the room. I was in my usual apparel: a black shirt and khaki pants. I’m still in the process of getting used to simple clothes. I grew up wearing complicated ones, which always annoyed me, yet I got used to it. I erased the thought of my old life. I told myself as soon as I got out of that cell room that I would never let anyone know my identity as of now. Soon, maybe, but for now I’d keep it to myself.

I opened the door and saw that the people – men and women – were busy sharpening the arrows and spears, loading the guns and testing other unfamiliar deadly-looking weapons that could kill you in sight. Garrick opened the door behind me, with his hair sticking out in different directions. “Huzza, good morning!” Garrick greeted. His breath smelled like beer and onions which made me turn my head away from him.

 “Intruders! Intruders!” a man shouted. A group of men from one of the cabins ran towards the voice of the man. The voice that caught our attention grew fainter and fainter each second.