𝟎𝟎| RAW STRINGS

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𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 — WHERE DO WE GO.

𝟎𝟎| RAW STRINGS

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𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐗, 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

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𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐗, 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟕𝐓𝐇, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟖

THE SOFT SOUNDS of footsteps descending the stairs gave no scare to the small child. Her luscious brunette hair gentle bounced up and down as her pale, sveltely arms continued to play gingerly with the Primavera. Calloused fingers stroking at the raw violin strings repeatedly, producing the tender harmonies of angels.

The wooden steps behind her groaned an eerie melody. Each and every step that the figure trod let out a low, calm—yet ghastly note that blending in perfectly with the soft sounds of the child's instrument.

The faint sound of heels clacking became more prominent before coming to a stop, which sought to slowly brining the girls song to an end.

"Your playing has gotten better," she paused. Her vermilion lips puckered up into a slim smirk, her short, flaxen hair was fixated into a tight bun that pulled at her scalp while a claret hat adorned her head. The girl rubbed her bare feet into the familiar damask carpeting of the hallow sitting room as she awaited for madam to continue.

"But," scaly hands gripped the tough, fine-grained eighteenth-century cherry instrument, "that is not what your here for Andromeda," her madam ripped the fine violin away from her shaky body.

Her charred hazel eyes widened in trepidation as her heart banged against her chest like the thrumming wings of a caged blue jay. Her hairs prickled the back of her neck and her breathing quickened in apprehensive, choppy breaths.

"I didn't take you in for you to waste your messily life playing with violins," a sharp intake of breath, "I see you strumming this wretched instrument once more, I'll finally ship you to that room."

The retreating dark silhouette of her madam brought air back into her lungs and color to her pale face. Eyes bit back tears as she stared at her empty palms—hands free from the soft weight of the beautifully carved violin.

"Of course," her hands twisted into fists, nails cutting into her bare palms as she looked at the empty hall way in distaste, "Madam Lizette."














a/n
there is no clear
updating schedule yet,
so i'll update when I can,
do not rush me, please
and thank you.

chapters will be
getting longer
so don't fret.

































































𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘥 | 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟗–𝟎𝟔–𝟏𝟑

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⏰ Last updated: Jun 13, 2019 ⏰

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MARCABRE, 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊 ¹Where stories live. Discover now