CLANDESTINE ── credence barebone

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

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𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤.❞

❝𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴- 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘶𝘴.❞

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“WHO IS SHE?”

A distant voice called out, raspy and ragged like it belonged to an old person. The voice seem unfamiliar for she's never heard of it before.

"We don't have any idea. We found her this morning, near that dumpster. Abandoned and cold, just like a lost child."

"Poor girl. Look at her. What is she even wearing?"

"Looks like... an odd white dress. Perhaps she's from the asylum?"

Her hand twitched. The asylum? It's a residence for sick people, is it not?

"I don't think so. She doesn't look like a lunatic."

"Are you quite certain? She surely looks like a battered girl... perhaps she's one of the patients they tortured at that wicked asylum."

"Are those bruises, Grandma?" followed a voice of a curious young boy and she felt the dread of their scrutiny.

"If that's true, then she's lucky to get out alive."

"Miss? Can you hear me?"

There are voices everywhere, drowning her in words she can't comprehend. She felt numb, and cold even. She had trouble opening her eyes as she battled with darkness. Her breathing seems calm but her mind is in chaos. Where was she?

She tried to lift her fingers and fortunately, she succeeded. Her cheeks felt cold and sunken. Her body screams with excruciating pain, every corner of it, like she had been hit by a lightning.

Or she had been electrocuted.

She felt extremely drained- both physically and mentally. Like a fish out of water, or a drought land seeking for rain. Every part of her felt torn, yet not mended. She's a fragile young woman, with a battered body and a damaged soul.

Black.

There's nothing but darkness.

The young woman felt absolutely cold to the core.

Then, she heard something faint- in her right ear. Whispering, whispering quietly. Like a gust of wind. Tickling her ear in an uncomfortable manner.

'You're in trouble. wake up, wake up! you're surrounded by ferocious beasts! They'll eat you! Gut you! Drink your blood! Wake up, wake up!'

She panicked - if that's even possible in her half awake state. If the whispering is true, then perhaps she's really in danger! But what if the voice isn't true? Perhaps just a fragment of her imagination? Maybe it's just the gust of wind, and she may have mistaken it to utter words.