The Flaws In Everything

7 - Joan Of Alien

Chapter 7 - 'Joan Of Alien'

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Lyre was quite certain that death wouldn't wait for her to pack her bags, since Adalyn's calculated stare (that made gravity stonger as she half jumped/half climbed down the tree), said more that words ever could. Adalyn was certainly there on behalf of her parents which lead Lyre to believe that they knew of her familiarity with this tree and this escape route late at night. They had to know. And that's what Lyre feared, for she realised that this would be the end of her midnight walks and she would once again be an animal too large for its cage.

Upon reaching the squelching ground, mud flying everywhere, she all but sprinted towards the front door. She was sure that at this exact moment, Adalyn was legging it down the stairs in an attempt to reach the bottom floor before her delinquent sister did. But two flights of stairs took much longer to run down that simply running on flat ground, especially when the contestant of the latter was far superior in the stamina department. Lyre was used to running, but princess Ada was decisively not.

That is why when Lyre fumbled with the key under the mat and proceeded to wrench open the door, there was no Adalyn in sight. In fact, there was no mortal in sight at all. Lyre eased her way in slowly, the dim lights of the hallway shuddering. She was sure that the absence of her family was some kind of trap.

After shutting the door behind her, she grew bolder in her endeavours. She made it into the living room, head held high as she flicked the lights on. Still no sign. She was sure that someone would be waiting for her in the dark, but no. And thus she continued on her journey.

Room to room she went in search for any form of life, but to no avail. She finally decided to just face the demon herself and after climbing the stairs to her room, she entered. Beweilderment stole her features as she looked around the room. Adalyn was no where in sight and even though at first Lyre thought she would be racing her to the door, it became increasingly clear that this was not the case. She had to be here, for her absence in the rest of the house was evident.

Just as she was about turn back towards the door, it slammed shut. The sound reverberated around the house like a gasp. With widened eyes, Lyre ran towards the door, reaching it just moments after the click of the lock was heard. Crying out in pain, Lyre cradled her shoulder, the pain shooting down to her already bruised hand and across the lattice of tears on her back.

"What the hell?!" She cried out to the mysterious force on the other side of the door. "Ada, let me out this instant before I pick your eyes out with my knife!" She groaned at the silence.

"It's not little Ada that you should be worried about." A voice chuckled from across the room.

Lyre whipped round to see a figure bathed in moonlight in front of her tall window. The stranger was skillfully balanced sideways on the edge of the wooden window seat, slowly walking across with the feet of a tightrope performer.

More curious than frightened, Lyre edged towards the window, noticing that in the person's right hand a small knife was clasped, picking at the nails of the other hand. The delicate yet fiece precision which enabled the woman (her feminine figure was undeniable at second glance) to pick the dirt out without letting her fingers bleed, was worrisome to Lyre.

As if just noticing that Lyre was still there, the woman snapped her head towards her before elegantly jumping down from the pedestool. As she did so, the hood of her midnight cloak fell to her shoulders, revealing her bare head. Lyre's eyes once again increased to the size of apples, for she had never seen anyone, let alone a woman, without a single hair on their head.

The woman was certainly not a shifter, for the way she carried herself was so alien, so foreign. The only thing that decorated her bald head was a gruesome scar that ran across the left side of her face. It stretched from just above the corner of her left eyebrow, back to the middle of her head before switching paths and coming to a stop by her ear.