Few days quickly flew by, not a single day passed where Seraphina's mind revolved around the man he left behind, the man he learned to loathe for God knows how long yet managed to earn a spot in her naive heart for such a short time.
After an hour and a half of tutoring the innkeeper's niece, Seraphina dozed off from reading too many classics. An escape, let's just say, to not let her mind drift back to him.
Slumping on the battered sofa, Seraphina dreamt multiple times that night, each one she vividly remembers.
One cannot state it's classified as dreams for all of them actually transpired in the past. She, being a young girl once again, back in the Canning manor in Avebury, Mrs. Jane and Dorian still pretty much are alive.
She was at the age of 14 and so was Dorian while Zachary was 22.
She remembered Dorian and her reading a book in his nook when Mrs. Jane's horrified screams filled the manor, her scream so loud it could certainly shatter the glasses.
As a reflex, Seraphina and Dorian swiftly exchanged confused and worried stares, and in an instant, they closed their books, racing towards the noise' source.
They found Mrs. Jane in the garden, wearing her bright yellow bonnet, green rubber gloves extending to her elbow, a muddy apron, looking all pale and sweaty.
Seraphina could not blame Mrs. Jane for such a horrid scream, in fact, she commends her for if she's put into that position, she'll surely commit something worse.
For there lies all Mrs. Jane's parrots inside their very silver cages, their wings chopped off, beheaded, all swimming in their own pool of blood.
Seraphina clutched Dorian's shirt, her hand covering her mouth. Seraphina, no doubt, badly wants to puke right now at such sight.
But stopped herself when she felt the arrival of another.
Dorian stood beside his mother and Seraphina, his hand caressing Mrs. Jane's back, sobbing, her head on her son's broad shoulder.
Dorian and Mrs. Jane, perhaps, did not notice a chart walking towards them with such catlike footfalls. One could barely hear him.
However, Seraphina forced herself to take her eyes off the brutally murdered parrots, her horrified eyes meeting the suspect's gaze.
The two of them exchanged looks, not one of them breaking eye contact.
Seraphina squinted at him as the words, "What happened here, Mother?" fell from his devilish mouth.
Acting all innocent here, huh. Mrs. Jane gaped up at her firstborn, saying, "Oh, son, you wouldn't believe what happened to my dear parrots. Such poor souls,"
Zachary dared not to cast a look at the dead parrots, his eyes still planted on Seraphina.
"Such poor souls, indeed, Mother," his voice monotonous, emotionless.
Seraphina doesn't need to actually see Zachary murder the parrots to know he's the man behind this. She's no fool, she sure saw him all bloody with all the beheaded sparrows not so many months ago.
Of course, God knows how many times she tried to tell Dorian, Mrs. Jane and even her aunt about this but none believed her.
Calling her a funny girl for telling such a thing for they firmly believe the oh-so-good Zachary does nothing all day but study and paint in his very lair.
'If only you know,' thought Seraphina every time this happened.
Dorian then excused himself, saying he'll go fetch the gardener to clean all this up.
YOU ARE READING
Beyond the Sinister (COMPLETE)
Romansa"𝐀𝐡, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲." The death of her best friend, the man whom she adores, compels Seraphina Hearts to head back home to attend the funeral. Yet, how can the school chit pro...
