Lost Soul

Bruises and Betrayal

Celine had no idea where she was going, but she just kept running. She stopped running when her feet hit stone cobbles and mud. The stench from the horse droppings was potent, and Celine wrinkled her nose at the vile odour. She couldn't hear anything besides her ragged breathing. Low, grumbling peals of thunder rumbled overhead, warning all who heard it that a nasty storm was imminent.

"Great. Now I'm lost." She huffed. Celine pushed her hair out of her face and sighed. Her heart was hammering in chest from the strenuous exercise. The wind beat relentlessly against her, whipping her hair into her face once more.
Growling hatefully at her stubborn locks, she begins to walk. Rain began to drizzle, and Celine spat a slew of curses. She heard the faint, but ever growing click..click..click of someone's heeled shoes hitting the slippery cobblestones. Shivers went down her spine and goosebumps prickled on her arms as a chilly breeze blew by. The clicking of heels was coming closer. She contemplated on running again, but decided against it.

"What's a little girl like you doing here? This isn't a place for you right about now." A high pitched, seemingly male voice called out from the shadows; sending shivers down Celine's spine, more so than the chilly breeze. Her eye twitched.

"I'm not a little girl anymore. Please leave me be." She requested politely, hoping that whoever it was took notice of the annoyance in her voice. She trembled as the rain beat down, her gown already super saturated with water. The male voice laughed mirthlessly.

"I'm afraid I can't leave any witnesses." The man was grinning deviously, and his dull brown eyes shone anticipation.

"Wait, Grell? Is that you?" Celine gasped in horror. Could Grell be behind all the murders? How could a seemingly useless butler who turns bushes into skulls have the skill to successfully and properly remove a womanly appendage?

"I heard that you brat! Honestly, stop thinking out loud!" Grell screeched. He flipped his ponytail behind his back sassily. "And, besides, I'm more deadly efficient than I seem!" He shoved Celine to the muddy ground roughly. Grell stood over her small body and cackled. Her arms were splayed out beside her, but she was so terror stricken that that's where they stayed.

"Yes. T'was I who was behind all the murders of those prostitutes!" He crowed dramatically into the night. "I was the one who tore those ugly women apart and painted them with pretty, red blood. Red is the perfect colour for everything from clothing to makeup." He crouched down so that his grinning face was mere centimetres from Celine's.

"And I plan on doing the same to you." Grell stood up abruptly, placed one foot near Celine's wrist, and the other on her elbow, and pulled back quickly. The sickening crunch and crackle of bone followed by an ear-splitting scream of agony ensued. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, and they were soon falling freely down the sides of her face.

She heard the slow, faint clicking of another pair of boots, and quickly began crying out for help.

"Please, help me! Help me, please!"

"Grell, I thought you said you were going to take care of the girl and not play around with her!" A woman's voice snapped, which caused Grell to recoil slightly. He straightened his back and pouted.

"But you let me play around with the others!" He whined. "And besides, she's just like the prostitutes. She has no family left, and if she did, they obviously don't care for her; seeing as they'd be searching to the ends of the earth to find her." Celine cleared her throat obnoxiously and scowled.

"She can hear you, you know."

"Stop talking, girl! You have no part in this!" The woman shouted, stomping her heeled boot against the muck covered street. Her identity was nagging at Celine. She knew the voice, but just couldn't put a name to it. She chewed her lip in thought and tried to sit up. She was quickly shoved back down, which caused Celine to bite her lip and have warm, metallic blood seep into her mouth. She spat out the blood and gasped in realisation. If Grell was behind all the murders, there was no way that he could have the talent to properly remove an internal organ. He would have to have the help of someone who had practiced or studied medicine. His accomplice was Madame Red.