"Possessed" [minecraft Story]

| Chapter 4 |

What is this? Where am I? She was resting on her side, her eyes blinking open. [E/C] colored eyes blinking open lazily, she looked at the green grass, a poppy standing next to her. She blinked again, probing herself up on her elbows, slowly getting up. She sat up in the soft grass, a warm breeze ruffled her hair slightly. She looked arround, dazed, confused. A beautiful meadow stretched arround her. Warm rays of the glowing sun kissing her skin. She slowly got up, confused. Is this a dream? If it is it surely is a strange one. She looked around the beautiful plains filled with flowers, tugging a stray hair behind her ear. She walked around, it felt like hours of endless wandering around. Watching the beautiful flowers until she came near an edge of a forest. Suddenly she shivered, feeling cold. Everything was dark around the forest, as if it were covered in thich mist of night. She took a step back. The forest. The memory comes back again. The nightmare. This must be the forest. Where is her sword when she needs one, she takes a step back and finds herself unable to take one more. Something, no someone, is behind her. She freezes, an image of white glowing eyes flashes in her mind. No not possible. A dark chuckle resonates in her ear. "Are you afraid, child?" No, she wants to answer, she can't be afraid. As if reading her mind the dark chuckle sounds again. "Oh truly? Why can't you? When I can clearly feel your fear. Like a delicious smell filling the air itself." a hand squeezed her shoulder. No you aren't real, you can't be. You're dead. This is just a dream, just a horrible, terrible nightmare--"Oh I can assure you little girl. I am very, very real." She gasped as she was harshly spun around, a hand clutching at her throat, her back scrapping on the rough bark of the tree behind her, she gasped, clawing at the hand but to no awail. She forced her eyes closed, not able to see who she thinks, knows, is holding her. The man let out a small tutting noise, as if scolding a child. A child who took a cookie out of the jar before lunchtime. A sharp nailed thumb stroked her cheak, mockingly soft. "Open your eyes little one." unwillingly she did, just like last time, as if his words were a comand her mind can't deny. Her eyes snapped open, wide. She felt the hand squeeze her throat tighter and she coughed. [E/C] eyes meeting the glowing gaze of her captor. Unable to look away. The thumb was on her left cheek, right underneath the eye. Suddenly it dug in, drawing blood, slowly the thumb dragged the nail down, painfully scratching. Slowly. She winced and grit her teeth, closing her left eye. He slowly slid the thumb across the wound he left, pressing. She hissed as blood gushed out, sliding down her chin and his hand. Suddenly he tightened his hold leaning into her left ear. "This time when you wake up, you will remember. And now go little one. Until next time." and with a lick to her bloody cheek he slammed her against the tree.

She gasped, shooting up. She panted deeply, terror still deep in her heart. She clutched at her sheets, fisting them until her knuckles turned as white as the fresh sheet. She stared at the blanket for a while. It was just a dream, just another night mare. Right? How long has she been staring at the sheet? An hour? A minute? Perhaps just a second? Suddenly she blinked when she saw a red drop color the sheets, another one joining in. She slowly moved her hand up to her cheek, feeling it. The liquid leaking down was warm. She suddenly bolted out of her bed and into the bathroom, staring into the mirror. Fear setting in. There on her cheek was a smear of blood. A bit of it trickling down. The smear felt strange, wet. Not like drying blood. She paled. Quickly washing her face, gritting her teeth as the scratch stung. She quickly bandaged it up after pouring some alcohol so it won't get infected. It still stung, even more so after the alcohol. But she was not paying attention to the pain. No. Her mind was on the clear memory of how it got there. The white eyes, the hand holding her neck. She looked at her throat. No bruise. How strange. As if he wanted the simple scratch to be there but not the bruise. At lease she has an injury less to explain to her brother and 'uncle'.

Somewhere deep in her mind, he was still standing in front of the forest, a trickle of blood ran down his lip before beeing snatched by a greedy tongue. Oh how good her blood tasted. So long since he felt blood on his tongue. To feel it again after so many years was absolutely wonderful. He smirked, staring at his bloodied thumb and at the small trickle leading to his wrist. He brought his hand in front of his face. Smearing the life liquid between his thumb and index finger. Soon little one. Soon you will follow his every word. All he needs is to strengthen the bond. And now he know exactly how.