Magic Weaver

Chapter Three(v2)

v1 note: Sorry it's a little short. This chapter is surprisingly difficult to write and I'm encountering a lot of writer's block, so I figured I'd at least post the first part of relieve the cliffhanger. Vote please! Comment too and if you want to keep reading it you should fan so you know the second I post! Thanks for all the generous comments and votes! Enjoy!

Sherlock Holmes was also an incredible inspiration, and I think the music is amazing, and I also think it fits in with my story nicely 

Chapter Three

Rafe's Revenge

Cedric sensed something tap his foot as he came back. His head felt as if it had shattered and was throbbing uncontrollably, which made it unbearable for him to think. Cedric groaned, trying to block out the pain enough to comprehend what type of situation he was in.  

"Rise." A voice commanded him. Cedric recognized it as Rafe's and struggled to obey. It felt like trying to stand in a thick mud. He felt himself fall to the ground again, but in his second attempt he managed arise on his feet. Though he swayed, Cedric stayed upright. He could feel Rafe take both hands, then the sensation of thick irritating rope around them. Cedric felt fear creep up his throat, and a panic begin to kick in. He could feel his hand grow warmer as his mind led him to remember that time he was bound, gagged, and strapped to a chair, that time that would haunt him forever. He felt his space close in over him, and claustrophobia settle. He didn’t want to be here, in this situation, his hands bound. The fear was overwhelming him. He had to stay calm. He let the pounding in his head take him for a moment, the pain washing over him and replace the panic. Rafe pulled the ropes tighter, so Cedric couldn't escape. Not like he could if he wanted to.  

Rafe wordlessly kicked Cedric's heels to urge him forward, and Cedric saw his surroundings move behind him as he walked. Everything swirled around him as his head pulsed. Cedric felt as though he was going to vomit from the intense pain, and once in a while Cedric felt like he was going to fall, but Rafe would kick his heels again to remind him what the stakes were. Cedric had no doubt that if he allowed himself to fall, Rafe would kill him at that moment. Cedric still knew that he would be killed eventually, but he held onto every moment of life he could. The moments passed singly and agonizingly, yet Cedric was under the impression that a handful of time was passing. Although he paid no attention to the area around him, or which way they were going, Cedric experienced a sudden perception when they came through the castle doors. Cedric struggled to raise his head in a bitter determination to search for the faces of Jack, Emily and the cook. He needed to see them just one more time before he died. Even a glimpse of them would do, but he couldn't leave this world without at least saying good bye.  

Around him nobles and ladies alike gazed at him with disapproving expressions. They assumed that Cedric had broken a rule and now was justly going to pay the price. Cedric pitied them to think that what was happening was considered justice. It was only the concerned, solemn faces of the other servants that let him know they understood what was really going on and knew the truth. They had seen their campaigns culled. It wasn't justice. It was a form of slaughter. Where was Rafe taking him? He had seen others dragged away, but he never knew where they were taken. And how exactly would he be killed? Without pain? Or would Rafe take his revenge and drag it out? Emily's face abruptly appeared, shining amongst the rest of the faces. She had tears in her eyes, and had a look of distress resting on her expression. Then she was gone. At first Cedric thought his vision had blurred, but no, she was simply gone. It was as if she had evaporated through the walls.  

Many more minutes passed as the swell of numerous people stared at him as he and Rafe went by. The rope was itchy against his skin, and cut into his flesh. But the pain reminded him that he was still alive. Despite the fact that death still hung above his head, he was still breathing. And as long as he was breathing, that was all that mattered.