Deadly Eternities

CH7: Feathers

      FEATHERS || 07

      I watched as a single feather floated to the ground. It caught reflections of green and blue from the broken chandelier and flickering candles, as it tossed and turned in slow motion towards the ground. Finally, the feather landed gently in my outstretched palm.

      Black dots swarmed my vision as I stood up too quickly, reminding me that my glass of blood was still sitting on the kitchen bench, untouched. I pocketed the feather and began towards the door, half-running in my eagerness to get out of the forbidden room. I stumbled and let out a little scream as my foot caught on a splintered piece of wood that looked to have once been part of an end table. I lifted the back of my leg, to see the wood had ripped a hole in my dark jeans, nearly six inches long. The skin was scraped and raw, and a small amount of blood was seeping through the deeper cuts; it didn’t look to be healing yet for some reason.

      I closed the metal door as quietly as possible, praying that neither Cole, nor Lord Cochran if he was around, would hear the creaking and turning handle.

      My glass of blood was still sitting on the edge of the bench, almost overfilled. I sighed and took a deep sip, letting the energy-filled red liquid revive my tiring body. The heavy, painful sensation in the base of my head and sharp jabs around my temples disappeared almost instantly as I chugged it down. I licked my lips and sat the now empty glass in the sink.

      I flopped down beside Cole and turned the television on. “You okay—what’d you do to your leg, Brae?” He asked, pulling his headphones out to look at me with what I assumed to be concern. Whether it was for me, my leg, or my mental health, I didn’t really know—although they’d probably all be quite valid concerns in my case—definitely, if you take into account the fact I just went into Lord Cochran’s specifically out of bounds area again (even after I was nearly eaten by a bear the first time). In fact I was almost worrying about my mental health.

      “Yeah, fine, I just caught it on some wood.” It still looked to be bleeding a bit, although not as much as it was a couple of minutes ago.

      He raised an eyebrow, “Now, where the hell did you manage to find splintered wood in a kitchen, Braelyn Vincent? Please tell me you didn’t go through that door again. They made it pretty damn clear that area’s out of bounds, Brae.”

      I grinned sheepishly, “I may have . . . but I heard someone crying!” I kicked my feet over his lap and stretched out, “What if someone was hurt? I couldn’t have just left them there!”

      “Yes, but what if you were hurt?” He frowned at me, pushing my legs off him.

      I shrugged, “Well, I wasn’t, so it’s all good.”

      He rolled his eyes as he sat his earphones back in and picked up his book. There seriously seemed to be nothing good on morning television, like ever, I realized as I continued to flick through the channels, finding only cooking shows and advertisements. As much as I adore television when there’s good stuff on, I really hate it when there’s not. I groaned and turned it off, “I am so bored—hey, was that door the only place they banned?”

      His light brown eyes regarded me warily, “That would depend on where you’re planning to go.” I glared at him and he sighed, “Just there that I know of—I’d say anywhere really important will be locked anyway.”

      I grinned, “Well, seeya then, I’m gonna go exploring.” I stood up, brushing my jeans off, but Cole grabbed my wrist before I could go. I looked at him expectantly, “Yes?”