Pandora's Box

Chapter 2

There was so much blood. The first and only time Ivy had even seen blood was when her mother was still alive. That was years ago but, with the sight of blood, the memory was as clear as glass. Both Ivy and her mother were tending to her mother's prized garden. The garden was her mother's pride and joy. She would never sell it off for any amount of gold or title and Ivy was feeling honoured by just standing in it, basking in the serenity it freely provides.

Right in the middle of the garden was her mother's most favourite and treasured plant and Ivy didn't have to ask to know why. It was the thickest and most luscious rose bush one could ever set their sights on. The roses never failed to take Ivy's breath away and always brought a smile on her face. Entranced by their beauty, Ivy wondered again why her mother named her Ivy instead of Rose. She voiced out her question once before and her mother replied with an amused chuckle. 

"The ivy was your Grandma's favourite plant, bless her soul, and having you named after it was the best idea your father had ever came up with. Besides, Rose Jagger doesn't sound too good, now does it?"

That was all she said about the matter and Ivy had to admit; Rose Jagger does sound weird. But, at that moment, staring at the bunch of beautiful flowers Ivy had ever seen, she knew that she had to touch them. With tenderness Ivy didn't knew she possessed, she grasp the stem of the rose. Lost in the moment, Ivy had forgotten one very important piece of information; Roses have thorns and the rose that she grabbed happened to have a lot of them. Hissing in pain, she snatch her hand back and clutched it to her chest. 

Within seconds, her mother was crouched next to her, a worried frown marred her delicate face. Ivy knew there was blood. There was no way to mistake the warm liquid pooling in her palm for anything else. Her hand was throbbing in pain as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying her best to hold in her tears that were so close to spilling out. Through the pain, she could barely make out her mother's attempts at comforting her. Her mother gently coached Ivy's injured hand out of it's hiding spot to inspect the wound. Ivy flinched as she felt the cool evening air come into contact with her injured hand. 

Squinting her eyes open, Ivy glimpsed at the wound and wished feverently that she had kept her eyes closed. Nausea came over her as she saw how bloodstained her hand was. The blood just kept on sprouting out of wounds like a fountain until Ivy noticed something strange. She was losing an astoundingly large amount of blood and yet, she felt perfectly fine.

Slowly, but surely, the scene faded and her mother's words softened until they were no more. Ivy's memory trip to the past had came to an end and she was now grounded into the present. Her motherless, with a bastard for a father and agonising present in which she was kneeling uncomfortably on the wooden floor of the tavern. Yet, she still felt blood staining her hands and the planks were sticky under her knees. Looking down at her hands, she finally knew why. 

Her hands were pressed forcefully down on the throat of a man who had clearly long since taken in his last breath. Lifeless and accusing eyes were staring right into her own as if blaming her for whatever that had killed him. An inhumane shriek tore from her throat as Ivy scrambled to her feet before falling over backwards. Frantic thoughts struck her as hard as her father's fists, leaving her in a comatose state; Was it me the one that killed him? Did I cause the light to leave his eyes? Have I finally turned into the monster Father predicted I would be in his drunken ramblings?

\i0 Staring dazedly at the dead man's face, her mind slowly pieced together the fragments of her memory. The man's name is Tim Medlen. He was not murdered by me. He was brutally and mercilessly killed by his twin brother, Tom. She was not the murderer. Thank the deities above, she had proved her father wrong again. So focused was Ivy on her innocence that she paid not the slightest attention to the chaos she was in. Until the wooden table just a foot away from her caught on fire. Yelping in surprise, Ivy rolled away, putting as much distance in between her and the unexpected heat as possible. The whole tavern was being destroyed as if it was a war zone. Bodies (dead or alive, Ivy wasn't sure) littered the floor and half of the tavern was already in flames.

Disgruntled, she quickly scrambled up from the floor, before coming face-to-face with the fiery head of an arrow, scorching the tip of her nose in the process. What the bloody hell was happening?