Guardians: Dark Stars

Chapter 3: Methods to Survival

William Coulter could feel imaginary chains binding him to his boiling bed. He was hiding underneath a large fluffy quilt, even though the night was suffocating. Beads of sweat showered down his cheek and chin. Under the cloud like throw, there was a sense of safety. William felt convinced that the monsters of the night would be repelled by the soft cover.

Breathing heavily, he stared up at his ceiling. The darkness censored many details. However, since he had been staring into the black curtain all night, his eyes were somewhat accustomed to the blinding depths of ebony. With the help of obscure moonlight, flitting into the room through the thin, window curtains, he could see the many blemishes that colored the beige canopy.

His heart was racing. He knew he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. In his mind, thoughts and questions raced at incoherent, nonsensical speeds. Aside from his own, heavy, breath pounding in his ears, an unsettling calm wrapped the air in it's clutches. The small iron key in his shaking hands burned his skin raw. A little key, no bigger than his pinky. This rusty key was the gateway to the Coulter family coffer. It was the only thing keeping his fortune safely locked behind solid steel. A treasure sweated from the blood and hard-labor of his father, grandfather and great grandfather.

The door creaked slightly. William held his breath, suffocating under the sudden suspense. A small orange candle blinded him. He quickly recognized the tiny, quivering voice that addressed him respectfully. Caitlin, a maid recently hired to the residential staff, greeted him timidly. Relief temporarily flooded his lungs. Though the threat at hand still nibbled at his soul, he was soothed by her presence. She was there now, he no longer had to fear the shade alone.

"I am sorry to disturb you sir, but Mr. Glenmullen and Mr. Nettle have not signaled our way in an hour," she spoke softly, her voice laced with unease.

Just like that, his much needed tranquility was disturbed with nostalgic horror. He slipped out from under the cover, practically dripping, and paced towards the young woman. His mind was so preoccupied by his wild imagination that he didn't realize her unsubtle recoiling. Running a shaky hand down his unshaven face, William found himself dreading each step more and more.

"Follow me," he requested hurriedly.

Her mouth glued shut, Caitlin simply nodded before shuffling behind William. Together, the both of them made their way to his armory. It was actually a closet just a few yards away filled to the brim with equipment as neatly stacked and racked as the maids could make it. Frustration scratched his skin. The Coulter family was never invited to balls, weddings or, even, the annual dinner hosted by the King. They were at the bottom of the 'noble' rung, barely considered part of the rich class. He had nothing to offer the "Smiling Ghosts". Why would they torment him by threatening to take away anything he had? All he had was a small bank of coin and the same good luck he had inherited from his predecessors.

"What the hell do they want from us," he snarled heatedly.

"Sir, should I prepare your armor," Caitlin uttered.

"No time," William shot back as gently as he could-not wanting to scare her, "they're probably already there, debating if they should blow the vault open, along with part of the house."

Caitlin watched thoughtfully as he choose a short-sword and buckled it on tightly. She didn't care, rather, she couldn't care as her caretaker had so flatly pointed out too many times. Still, just as she had felt during the half dozen jobs she had gone on since agreeing to aid the last "Ghost", shame began to creep through the cracks on her wall.

How different it had been, months ago, when she was the unmarried equivalent of a wife. She had cleaned, picked berries, prepared meals, sharpened swords and stitched loose chain-mail, she had known, of course, what the "Ghosts" did and had accepted her role in their sins. Now, it wasn't the same, now she was part of the crime-the part that lied and cheated to get what she wanted. It didn't matter how necessary she was told it was, she didn't want to be a part of this just as she had never wanted to be a part of them.