Fairy King

Chapter 1

A quiet groan escaped (Y/N)'s lips as she rose from her bed, scrubbing her eyes that were still sore from the previous night's tears. Her book had fallen to the floor during her slumber and now lay open on the floor, words facing the ceiling. She felt exhausted, despite the fact she'd only just woken up. Silence rang through the house, causing her eyebrows to furrow upon coming to her senses. There was never silence in her house. There was always something yelling, or her brother giggling or some shit tv show on the tv. Something wasn't right. Cautiously, she swung her feet from the bed, creeping over to the door and pulling it open. As (Y/N) slowly made her way through the home, she could feel eyes watching her and whispers seemed to filter into every crevice.

"Dad? Alice? Sam?" She called reluctantly, investigating every room with careful steps. Bundling her dressing gown close to her body, her footsteps grew faster as she raced between rooms, desperately searching for her family. "Hello?!"

But upon reaching one of the guest bedrooms, she froze. Then gently, warily, her hand rested on the door. The voices grew louder and louder, however, when (Y/N) pushed the door open, they instantly silenced. The feeling of eyes on her body never left, sending shivers to run down her spine. It was cold inside and the windows were blown open. Though, strangely, at the same time, it was all too hot, resulting in (Y/N) to shrug off her dressing gown. She was left in just her oversized sleep shirt and some shorts as she paced through the room, eyeing every corner intently. A hushed call of her name made her turn sharply. She saw nothing. Only a large teddy bear in the corner that she was sure hadn't been there before.

"Sam? Is that you?" (Y/N) asked quietly, fear coursing through her veins as she hesitantly approached the bear "Knock it off Sammy- this isn't funny!"

Every step closer made goosebumps rise on her skin and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. That muffled whispering returned ten times louder as she stepped towards the bear. However, drowsiness started to seep in and before she knew it, she had collapsed onto the floor of the bedroom, three pairs of strong hands latched onto her body.

Hushed voices seemed to bounce through every crack of the icy stone walls. Shadows danced behind the door, disintegrating through its decades of existence. (Y/N)'s ears strained to hear the exchange happening just beyond the padlocked door, but she daren't open her eyes, in fear of what was hidden behind her eyelids. A few hours ago, her life had been certain. Absolutely awful, but certain. She knew everything she needed to know and never had a question to ask. Those questions had been forced out of her many years ago. But her discovery had left her to stir in confusion and for the first time in her time, she was lost.

Stories are an old expression of fantasy, existing long before the days of you and I. In her book, it spoke of an island, hidden in the centre of the seven seas of rhye. An island which contained the black and white queens, ogre territory and ...The Fairy King. Ever since childhood, (Y/N) has been enamoured by this tale, playing games with other children about it. However, that was all it was: a tale. A fragmentation of reality. Or so she thought. Never in her life did she expect to be on that island.

"What is a human doing here?" A cold voice sneered, breaking her from her hurricane of thought. (Y/N)'s ears perked up and she allowed her eyes to open, only for them to snap shut when a click echoed into the room, followed by the harsh creaking of the old wooden door.

"We found it, like you requested, my king," The next man to speak held a softer tone, but there was no fear, as if he was used to the other ans hardened nature.

"I said souls. I never said human souls! You know how much I hate them? They're disgusting, pitiful creatures. May, you promised me when I became king that no human would step foot on this island!" Oh. The King. But surely, that wasn't possible? The fairy king was a story. So was the island. She had to be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Anything but this. Though the cold seeping through her shirt, the dampness swarming around her toes and the ache of her wrists against the rope felt too real. Footsteps sounded, getting closer, closer, closer. Until they stopped.