Town of broken dreams - Life is but a dream

Prologue - Catcher of dreams

St. Andrews 1715

It was a cold foggy evening in Scotland when a young man on a horse as black as the night approached St. Andrews castle. 

The gallop resembling a thunderstorm roaring through the land, which was appropriate considering how perturbed the man on the horse was. He rode over the moat until he reached the giant gates of the castle, got off his horse and leashed it to a pole.

He pulled his coat collar all the way up in an attempt to protect his face from the cold icy wind. He went up the steep steps to the entrance and reached for one of the metal door knockers, that was shaped like a dragon.

His forceful, aggressive knocks could be heard from far away and echoed loudly through the castle halls. The man had no consideration for anyone who might have been sleeping already and no intention to stop. He continued, until a young girl in a grey dress, with her blond strands tucked into a white hood, opened the gate a crack wide. She was presumably the maid.

'Miss Hawtry does not accept any kinds of guests at such late hours' The girl said quietly, clearly intimdated by the visitor. 'Tell her Vernon Dunham needs to talk to her. It is urgent',  the man replied, in a voice that forceful it made the maid wince. The maid who seemed to have shrunken three sizes hesitated, but the fear of losing her position in the castle won 'The Lady told me to specifically deny you the entrance... Sir'

The man whose name seemed to be Vernon Dunham grew even more furious than he was before. 'Tell Vivienne- Miss Hawtry, that I really am in need to... Screw this, I do not have time for such foolery', the man proclaimed and pushed himself past the maid, who tried to follow him as he went up the staircase of the castle, but failed to keep up with his speed.

Vernon passed through the enormous ballrooms with giant diamond chandeliers and silky purple curtains, that he still remembers dancing in, at his last visit about a fortnight ago.

Anon he reached the sleeping chambers and stormed in to find a young beautiful woman sitting on her bed in her silk sleeping garment. She was wearing white gloves over her dainty, delicate hands that were working on something that seemed to be knitting... No, she was weaving a dreamcatcher.  It was beautiful and one could see how much work and detail were put into it. The yarn used for the web was blue and purple and weaved in a complicated, intricate pattern. The strings attached to it had pearls and feathers that were glittering in the light produced by the chandelier.

She did not seem to be fazed at all by the rude intruding. Without looking up from her voice she asked 'What do you want from me Vernon', with a voice as cold as ice.

'Vivienne you did not respond to any of my letters and I started to worry about your well being. Did not of them arrive, because if so I need to have a serious word with the messenger' The woman finally took her eyes of the dream catcher and placed it carefully on her bedside table. Her long curly hair fell to her shoulders exposing big amber eyes. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her skin pale but in a lively way. She was truly beautiful.

' You are wrong my dear, every single one of them arrived', Vernon gave her a confused look and opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. 'I might have even read the one or the other, but most of them ended up in the fireplace. Oh well' she said shrugging. That left Vernon even more confused 'But why would you-' 'Because you started boring me. I am Lady Vivienne Hawtry, do you seriously think the same man can satisfy me on the long haul. If you did you were wrong my dear. There were countless before you and there will be countless after you and there is nothing you can change about that.' Vivienne said sounding like she was not able to care less. The look on Vernon's face shifted from angry to hurt. ' I thought you loved me' he replied, voice barely a whisper.

'Oh how gullible, well you could not have been more wrong, now let yourself be guided out by Marie if you refuse I have way more aggressive personnel than her' Vivienne had something in her eyes that was almost sadistic.

'Vivienne, please don't do this to me... to us' As a response, she simply waved with her spindly, long fingers, while the maid, Marie was guiding him out. He attempted a few more poor excuses and pleas that then transformed into warnings and curses. Shortly before exiting the castle he screamed 'You will live to regret this I promise you!'

With that, he vanished into the windy, cold night... except he didn't.

After the last candle was blown out and he was sure that nobody in the castle was awake anymore, Vernon found a window that he could smash at the very back of the castle, making sure nobody was alarmed of the sound of glass shattering. He then stepped through to find himself in a completely dark room and no way of creating light. Fortunately, he was still able to recall the structure of the castle from their fiery adventures, back when he used to visit the castle regularly. He seemed to be standing in the armory, full of the castles antique swords. He might as well have used one of those to end Vivienne, but what he was about to do he did not need any weapons, for it was way more elegant and discreet.

He snuck through the dining room and the art gallery until he reached the sleeping chambers, that he was so heartlessly rejected from earlier that day. Vernon could still not believe what happened, how shamelessly he had been used. Like a piece of  meat. A wave of hate went through him and it was the hate, that drove him to do what he was about to do.

He was going to make sure Vivienne will never hurt him like that ever again - hurt anyone like that ever again.

She looked so peaceful lying in her bed. Her eyes were closed and she breathed in small shallow breathes out of her perfectly shaped tiny nose. She had no idea what was about to come. Vernon took out the small bottle of poison he had in his pocket, that he always had with him, in case he crossed paths with an enemy. It ached him to say, that who once was his love, turned now into his foe.

He led the pipette to her heart-shaped full mouth that he used to love kissing. 'Not any more', he thought grimly to himself.

He then delicately poured two little drops of the deadly substance into her mouth, making sure she would not wake up in the process.

Then he waited. Vernon watched her draw a silent breath... and another... and another. He watched Vivienne chest rise and fall.

But then it stayed motionless.

He left the room, seeing his work done, leaving behind only a room containing a lifeless Vivienne and the carefully crafted dreamcatcher hanging next to her bed.

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That night Vivienne had nightmares. Horrible nightmares of death, blood and screaming. She seemed to be trapped in this loop of horror and suffering and all she wanted was to wake up. But she was not going to...

Ever again.

A/N

Hello so this is the prologue of my story and I hope you enjoyed it and are exited for more

If you have any constructive criticism feel free to tell me in the comments. I appreciate any kind of support I get.

I anybody was wondering, this chapter was inspired by the myth of the woman with the white gloves who is believed to haunt the castle of St. Andrews. But it is only losely based on it and completely reimagined by me to better fit the story about to come.

Thank you for reading and a big thank you to my editors amina-elisa  and  carolinesunshine0

- AnnaWhatever8