White Thorn | On Hold

Blood

Red.

There was no other way to describe it. Blood littered the ground, painting the grass a dark crimson, its source all too obvious. It was rather hard to miss the pale body crumpled in a heap on the matted grass a few metres away. Her hands shook, horror written across her face as she stared at the carnage. The girl had put up a struggle. That was for sure.

Crusted dried blood ringed her wrist, barely visible underneath the thorny vines wrapped around her arms, evidently having held her down. A single clean wound was just about visible, pierced straight through her heart – the obvious cause of death...

Just like it should've been for Arya.

Shivers ran down her spine, her fingers grabbing at her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she remembered the feeling of cold metal rammed through her chest. The scene she was looking at was supposed to be what'd happened to her... and the only reason it hadn't happened was because of them.

"Arya." Flynn appeared in her field of vision, trying to block the sight in front of her to no avail. "Look at me, Ari-bear." He ordered, hands clamping down on her shoulders. "It's OK, you hear me? You're OK."

She shook her head, black hair flaring out, slapping into the Commander of the White Division's face, blinding him momentarily. Her feet were moving before she even realised it, carrying her away from the commotion, and the annoying blonde who'd tried to comfort her.

Arya didn't know how long she ran for. All that was on her mind was getting away from there, and all the memories it brought to mind. Memories she wanted nothing more to forget.

A bloody field.

One shocked set of green eyes staring at her.

Snarls of a feral animal.

An odd reddish tinge in her vision.

Tears leaked down her face, her feet crushing the small bushes beneath her booted feet as she ran even further into the forest. For once she didn't care about the thorns littering the path. All that mattered was running.

At least until her foot snagged on a root, sending her crashing to the ground in a tangle of leaves and branches. "Oww..." Arya winced, feeling the new grazes on her elbows and knees.

Branches cracked, a set of shiny black boots meeting her confused stare as she lifted her eyes to glance up at an oddly familiar face.

"Rulebreaker."

"Oh... it's you." She stood, dusting herself down, trying to look somewhat composed. "What are you doing out here?"

"I think the bigger question is what you're doing out here all alone?" Brown eyes narrowed, Ryu peering down at her as she shivered slightly.

"None of your business." She folded her arms, looking off determinedly into the distance.

A set of hands landed on her shoulders, spinning her around to face another blonde. Grey eyes bore into her own curiously, examining her as she stood there, frozen. His face was close. Alarmingly close... and yet incredibly familiar, for a reason she soon found out as the third member of their trio charged into the clearing, knocking her forwards with a loud thud.

"You OK...?"

"Seriously..." Ryu stared at the pair locking lips. "Again?!"

Arya pushed herself back, covering her lips with her hand.

The guy stumbled backwards, staring down at her incredulously as she ran her thumb across her lips.

"Soft..." She mumbled, the tips of her ears turning bright red when she was met with three rather judgemental stares. "What?" A scowl twisted at her lips. "If you don't believe me, then kiss him yourself."

"I think I'll pass." Ryu said, backing away from the other blonde.

The third member of their trio shrugged. "I doubt he'd let me."

"You got that right."

"Blair." The hairs on all four of their necks stood on end, four sets of eyes spinning to face the petite black-haired girl standing behind them. "Why do I seem to keep find you kissing my students?"

"El- Wren..." Blair stiffened.

"It's hardly his fault," Ryu said, "it's the rulebreaker who's the one responsible."

"And Blair is a fully-grown adult," knuckles cracked, "while Arya Cross is a fifteen-year-old girl."

"It was an accident."

"Why was your face so close to hers, then?"

"I thought she seemed familiar." Blair shrugged. "That's all."

"You sure?"

"Very."

"Good." Wren muttered, grabbing Arya by the hand, pulling her away from the trio. "Now, we'd best get you back to your room. It's not safe out here anymore."

"What's going on?" Her shoulders sunk, her eyes glued to the ground as she walked behind the smaller girl. An odd chill had overtaken her, the realisation of everything finally sinking in. Riverdale High was no longer a safe haven, not that it'd been much of one in the beginning... but now a girl was dead.

Velvet was a suspect.

Arya was a victim.

"Flynn was trying to tell you something earlier." Wren closed her eyes, her small feet slowing to a standstill. "And you're not going to like it."

One hand knotted through her leaf-infested black hair. "What?"

"Velvet's gone missing."