A Series of Unfortunate Mysteries

Imperfect Imposters: Chapter One

She seems to open her eyes and realizes she is being pulled down an aisle in a dark church, the steeples empty and void of any life. It was too cold for there to be life willing to stay. Her gaze shifts around the large room, trying to grasp where she is exactly.

Next, she is forced to her knees at the altar, and she looks down at the ripped carpet that her scraped knees are resting on to avoid looking at anything that may be watching her.

Her head lifts up against her will as she is forced to look from the ground, and she sees a small table with a ring finger bone with a ring resting on it placed on a deep-red velvet cushion.

She looks up all the way, still against her own thoughts and actions, and sees three cloaks floating, each holding the shapes of men with red eyes in the darkness created by their attire.

"Put on the ring, or those you care for will perish." A deep voice rasps, making her flinch.

She knew they would fulfill that threat – that was how they worked. With wide piercing eyes, she looks at the ring then back at the floating cloaks before moving her hands slowly towards the cushion, tears rushing to her eyes at the consequence of her reluctant actions.

She removes it from the bony hand with a cringe, placing it in her palm and stares at the triangular symbol when she saw it a lifetime ago.

"Now," voices whisper, growing louder as she guides it to her ring finger.

She places it on, and it seems to fit perfectly around her ring finger.

The cloaks fall to the ground as the words "savior" and "our lord" are chanted, the voices beginning to hurt her ears as she desperately tries to pull the ring off.

She feels a burning sensation, and it only grows as she continues her attempt at pulling it off.

The sensation continued, and she screamed from the immense pain when she jumped up from where her head was resting on the pillow.

She collapsed back onto the pillow with heavy breaths, hoping to clear her mind. Finding she couldn't, she decided that throwing water on her face would hopefully calm herself down.

Walking into the bathroom, she turns on the light then the faucet when she looks in the mirror and sees red eyes looking back at her. She quickly throws the water on her face, repeating the action several times for reassurance.

Her heart began to race as she watched this hallucination – was it a hallucination? – replay in her mind as she feels the icy fear freezing her heart. She faces the mirror with her hands covering her eyes and opens her eyes and hands to see her blue eyes looking back at her. About to let out a sigh of relief, she looks down with wide eyes to see a welt on her hand, right where the ring was in her dream.

She holds a hand to stop whatever profanity or sound may escape, either of which would alert the other sleeping residents that one was not asleep.

She angrily starts to rub at the burn, a whimper escaping her shut lips from the pain it brought.

"Fate cannot be changed,"

"your destiny remains the same,"

"our lord."

She hears three familiar voices whisper, and with a jolt she runs to a different bedroom from her own, throwing the door open and closing it quickly yet being quiet so as to not awake the room's resident.

With wide unfocused eyes, she turns to the bed, tiptoeing towards it and crawling under the covers.

Arms wrap her shoulders and abdomen as she stiffens, instantly thinking she wasn't careful enough. "Nightmare again?" The resident whispers, their usual cheery voice rather raspy and thick from sleep.

"Yes." She quietly replies as she relaxes in their lazy yet strong hold.

The previously-sleeping resident only nods, her hair brushing against Diane's back as they both close their eyes to return to their interrupted slumber.