A dark carriage swept along the cobbled stones, stumbled and smacking on the bumpy ground as it went, the people enclosed within scowling in distain as their hair became slightly messed up due to the rough ride.
"Mike, I-I thought we were taking the b-brat with us." Sneered Charlie, his chestnut hair pulled back and greased to a ridiculous amount. His body was adorned in the ugliest color of yellow making him look like the brightest light in the room.
"Well. . . we decided not to disgrace the family with his face." Mike said, haughtily, adjusting his jet black suit. Though his words were harsh, his face was filled with a hidden horror, his eyes were gleaming in fathomless fright. He kept seeing shapes. . . shadows in the darkness, blood in the corners of his eyes, screams just out of his hearing distance. . . and this morning he had found three bloody needles placed neatly into his pillow by his face in his sleep.
---------------Harry's P.O.V.------------------
I slunk in the shadows beside the carriage, occasionally letting myself be seen whenever he looked out the window, to keep fear in his heart. I was beginning to think about never killing- simply letting him go insane with the madness of knowing I was there. . . like I had gone insane through the beatings and the hatred instilled upon me since the day he forced his way into my life.
I smirked as the carriage pulled into the castle- elaborate suites and hairstyles made their way towards the steps. He glanced back, his eyes widening as he saw me once more, step from the shadows, a bloody knife clutched in my pale fist, the string still wrapped around my skinny arm, the needles still delicately placed into my wrist.
He turned quickly and scuttled up the steps. Ha. As though a flimsy little castle could protect him from me- what was he going to do? Tell on me?
A slow chuckle escaped my lips as I stalked towards the gates, the night ever creeping as I made my way closer. . .
It was ten o'clock. . . time to have some fun, before the clock strikes twelve. . .
-------------Pira's P.O.V.---------------
I sighed, staring out my window at the ugly men dressed in sickly suits, lining up, one by one, to enter my castle. Damn my mother for holding this- I didn't want any of these men. They were uninteresting, all the same, snotty and idiotic. Why would I want someone like that?
And then HE caught my eye. I leaned closer to the glass to get a better view of the beauty making his way towards the castle gates, alone and gorgeous. . .
His short snow white hair flowing from his head, shaggy and messy, yet still eerily beautiful in the dark light flooding the court yard. A ripped suit, blue and stained with blood, clung to his skinny body, rips revealing strips of pale flesh.
A maze of intricate stitches filled his body, the black, blood stained string contrasting beautifully against his pale white skin. His eyes were dark, black dripping from the bottom lids, down to his face, to the tip of his jaw. A grin stretched across his lips stitches drawing the ripped skin of the sick smile together, extending his smirk to the tips of his cheeks.
She needed to see this man. How handsome he looked with the wind pulling through his white locks, how his suit hugged his skinny frame like a splendid skeletal prince- the beauty and story each stitch told forced her curiosity into deep desire.
I lifted myself from my view point at the window, suddenly enthused to get down stairs. To make my way through the disgusting swarm and colors and false smiles to this captivating creature of beauty.
YOU ARE READING
Twisted Hopus Story
TerrorA handsome boy, thrown into the darkness by his evil, adoptive parent... but this time he must be kept away. For when the clock strikes twelve, instead of losing his riches and looks, he loses something much more ... his sanity . . .
