The Crimson Blade

Walls -Rayn-

Whoooop! So the next chapters are really when this book starts to get into the whole picture! whooooooooooh! Who can figure it out? COMMENT!!!!!!

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So you thought you had to keep this up?
All the work that you do just so we think that you're good.

She runs by me, not even noticing that I was hidden in the shadows.

No one ever does.

She slams the door of the room she is staying in with a bang, the sound echoing off the stone walls. I noticed the tears streaming down her face silently, and the way her eyes were full of a emotion I am to familiar with.

Regret.

I slowly walk to her door and silently lay my head against the cool, dark wood. I can hear her sobs, her cries of protest, I listen to her crack.

Cracked, but not broken. Not yet.

Sadness is a strange thing to remember, to feel. It is said tears are to keep your eyes from drying out. But yet, when you cry they stream down the person's face like a waterfall. It is a strange thing.

Instead I focus on her heart beat, which despite the thick door, I my trained ears pick up. It is not normal, bit not wavering either. It beats in a steady pattern of rhythm and strength.

Thump.

Bum.

Thump.

I sigh, I have to tell her we leave tomorrow morning. I have to tell her that she will be leaving for good. I feel a strange feeling in my stomach at the thought. I nearly scold myself. I don't know what this means, or what it has to do with her, but I knew I had to move forward. I will take her to Windermere and I will do so without any issues.

Or feelings, for that matter.

I hear her scream, and a little monster claws in my chest, begging to be let out. I feel goosebumps rise on my bare arms and I tense.

Leave now! My mind says, but my heart says something else. But I listen to my mind, because the last time I listened to my heart it caused me to become a killer.

So I push away from the door, and leave out the window with a thump.

Pain blooms in my leg and I bite back a scream. Shouldn't have done that. I forgot to take the medicine that Natasha makes for me so my bad leg is weak. I limp as the memory comes back, but I push it futher back in my mind. I hate anything that involves the day I turned.