Her mouth tastes of bitterness and blood. The strong, cutting taste slices past her lips and sinks down her throat. Vera wants to gag although her lips refuse to crack open. There is something that is holding her body back from moving according to its own will. Without her mind's consent, her legs continues to walk to its own accord, one foot in front of the other into the absolute darkness. 

Vera's eyes are shut closed, as if her eyelids were sewn together. A feeling of fear and terror rises up her throat, the sharp pain slicing at her insides as she tries to lift her eyelids. She wants to scream, to yell for help, to shatter the terrible darkness with her voice. But to her absolute dismay, her lips too, are seeming sewn shut as well. 

Alarm and raw terror washes her body as she struggles against the blindness that is binding her from seeing and screaming. Her screams are trapped in her body as she continues to walk down the path set in front of her. Something whispers to her that it is only a dream, or rather, a nightmare, but she is too paralyzed from fear to listen to the soft voice that breathes in her ears. She doesn't hear her own footsteps and she trudges down to the oblivion held in front of her.

Vera's throat tightens and her body wants to quaver in distress as she realizes that she can not feel her own skin. There is no sensation beneath her as the heels of her feet meet the ground in a soundless thud. Numbness slowly devours her from bottom to top as she continues to make her way down the path. It has already eaten away at her feet and has stolen her body's control. No matter how much she struggles against her unseen restraints. Her mind screams at her to to open her eyes, to yank free, to wake up. But Vera's body refuses to listen.

Cold slivers of paralysis trail to her knees and up her thighs. Slowly, yet at a terrifyingly swift speed, it manages to swirl around her waist before swallowing her midsection. Another scream desperately tries to escape past her lips, but it is caught between the invisible stitches embroidered around the outer skin of her mouth. She has lost all sensation of her legs, although that is only the start, for the darkness continues to envelope around her mercilessly tear away her flesh. What frightens her most, is that she can not register the pain as the shadows began to bite away at pieces of her skin. 

She can not feel the pain, yet she can bring herself to sense herself being torn apart. It is an indescribably sensation that is almost so strange, so hauntingly agonizing; it is what she would call an unimaginable type of pain. What she does, what she says, what she sees, what she hears, what she comprehends, what she feels- all of her essential human constituents are being stolen from her without her choice.

And for Vera, there is no pain greater being robbed of her own will.

No matter how hard she she has tried to fight against the black oblivion surrounding her, the dark matter is still ceaselessly feeding on her. It seems as though the nothingness is hungry not for her flesh, but for the remaining shards of will held within her ribcage, hidden far inside her beating heart. 

And although her lips are sealed and her eyes are shut, she screams against her sewn restraints as she watches the darkness mold itself into faint shadows of human figures. And although her body is robbed of any sensation and her ears are covered by layers and layers of utter silence, Vera continues to feel the slim trickle of yearning drip down the corners of her eyes and listen to the weak twinkle of hope sound in her head. 

Distorted shapes that seemingly resemble human bodies reach out to her as she takes her remaining steps down the path leading to the terrible void of nothingness. They are all faceless, black looming creatures that only desire for what she holds in her heart. They bare no face yet they wear red smiles of sinister pleasure.  Hands like claws, fingers like talons, nails like knives , they continue to rip away at her body, their bodies shuddering a remorseless shudder of glee as they find themselves closer and closer to the now dimming prize. 

Vera screams and begs and pleads for them to stop their barbaric acts of absolute savage, but they can not hear, and neither can she. They gnaw at her ankles and gorge at her knees but still she feebly walks on, behind her sewn lips her teeth gritting with fear and frustration. Their claws bury deep into the sensitive flesh of her hips, slowly dragging their talons down into her legs, as a vicious attempt to keep her from making her way to the end of the void.

The path comes to an end. As she nears the exit of the emptiness, there is a splotch of white that has seeped past the darkness only a few feet in front of her. Vera does not know whether it is the very awaited exit of the emptiness or the entrance to another void, but what she does know is that she has to escape. Within her ribcage, the faint singing of her heart beats in her ears, a reminder that not all hope is lost yet. 

A labyrinth of talons, claws, and fangs. She is held back by shadowed nightmares and grinning menaces of scarlet and crimson, her only two hopes held within her heart and the exit in front of her. Vera drags her limp body to the little white tear embroidered in the darkness, her shallow heartbeat now only a mere sliver of sound. The shadowed figures have devoured her to down to the bone. Oh what little remains of her, all a thin cage of bone and a beating heart that pulses with all of her wishes and her remaining shreds of hope. 

Still, she stands. And still, she walks. As her slim fingers, now only hollowed bones of what they once were, close in on the white speckle, the scarce sliver of white hope begins to grow inside of her. And as it grows, Vera realizes that that was what had taken over her body and her movements. At first, she could not understand, but it has finally come to her that nothing could have kept her moving but hope. 

And she figures that that was why she was chased by hungry shadows and famished darkness. Because there is nothing more satisfying to the hopeless, than hope itself.

A shadow closes its hands around her two of her frail ribs and snaps the bone. Vera screams as others join it in a ravenous pursuit. Their red lips open and howl with maddening laughter. Fangs of obsidian glimmer at her while puffs of smoke pour from their endless orifices. Her footsteps fall into a slow stop, her bone fingers are outreached, barely touching the white escape, but it is already too late, for they have already gotten to her heart.

"Can they feel your emptiness? Can they feel your white hope drip away and onto the floor below her in colorless little puddles of pale nothingness? Because in hopelessness all is lost, and when the hopeful have become the hopeless, and the hungry have become satisfied, you will become forgotten," her mind whispers as she feels herself becoming one of them.  

All of the shadows have vanished, just as the white tear is sewn back together by a thread of black and ink. Hollowness tickles at her fleshless bones, quietly seeping into her raw skull and soaking into the remnants of what used to be her body. Broken ribs and an empty heart is that is left of the wreckage. Amongst the aftermath of havoc and the shambles of black, crushed gravel, lies a Vera with vacant, starless unopened eyes.

"What a shame," her mind chides. "That you have not even tried to fight against it. That you have allowed your terror to seep into you without a single ounce of constriction. That you have allowed yourself to succumb to the rest of your fears and to obey the monsters that crawled around you without fighting against them with all of your power. Perhaps there was a mistake. Perhaps you are only ordinary and hopeless at the shadows on the walls. If that is the case, then let your bones rot and decay, for you are no better than they are. Tis a shame, a heart as bright as yours could have lit up the entire world."

The words trigger something within her hollowed out body. And although it is only a small spark, it begins to spread like a wildfire across her fragmented bones and splintered ribs. It is neither hope nor anger, but a strange coalesce of the two elements that fuels the white flicker trembling from within the fractured cage of dulling ivory. I will not cower. Her bony fingers curl into fists.

I am not hopeless. I am not ordinary. White flames envelope her body, writhing around her neck and curling around her ribs like an albino dragon of marble and smoke. It scorches her bones and mends the cracks with a single breath of blazing white fire. And for the first time, Vera feels the heat of it sink into her body, the warmth and sharp pain that registers as the dragon tears through the darkness. Everything is covered in writhing licks of fire, but Vera is not frightened of the burning sensation. No, she will bear the pain. She grinds her teeth as the dragon pours the liquified essence of the sun's white flames onto her skin. I will not decay. I will not rot.

Layer by layer it embroiders her flesh and skin into her hollow body, carefully restoring her carcass into it's what it was before. It hisses and sings the enigmatic lyrics of rituals and miracles as it breathes fire into her lungs and life back into her flesh. The pounding of her heart slowly echoes in her veins, the sound of its revival only gratifying to her ears. Her heartbeat breaks past the maze of bones and flesh, escaping into the silence and filling the dark atmosphere with its determined hymn. 

The white fire, once a small flicker of white, has spread itself beyond the darkness, its light bright and stubborn. And although her body is burning and numb, Vera continues to struggle to her feet. She must stand. She must fight against her fears. As she places her hands onto the ground and pushes herself up, a surge of strength floods her system. She is on her hands, then on her knees, and finally, she is back onto her feet.

Two flames flicker from where her hands had been placed. 

It strikes her, as she is standing alone, broken and bruised, that she can no longer suppress and smother the flames that dance from within her ribcage, along the veins of her heart. Vera opens her eyes and her mouth, uncaring of the tearing seams that had once sewn them shut. 

She faces the darkness and screams into its abyss. She screams and screams until her throat is bleeding white fire. "I will light up the entire world, " Vera screams at the top of her lungs, until the  shadows around her are all engulfed in her flames.

Vera wakes up with a horrified gasp and a frantic heart. Her eyes snap open and she scrambles to her feet, only to nearly collide into her cousin's forehead, which is hovering only inches above her own.

The little kid's dark pupils are wide with fear and concern, his slender face contorted into a unfamiliar vulnerable expression. His hair falls into his eyes as he leans down closer to her face. "Vera...?" Remi asks, his voice helpless and small. For a moment, he looks as if he had held a sliver of care for her.

"What...happened?" Vera inquires as she reaches out to him by a force of habit. As she struggles to rise out of her bed, a cool, damp strip of fabric falls from her head and hits the ground with a soft plop.

His expression transforms from worried to irritated within a split moment, as he narrowly dodges her hand. He narrows his eyes and fixes a small scowl onto his face. "You fell unconcious and made a solid impact on the cement floor with your skull." Remi lowers his gaze to the nape of her neck. He picks up the towel from the ground and tosses it into the bowl. Small drops of water drip down onto the floor around him, his thin white shirt damp and soaked with water. "And you hit the back of your head- so you really should be medically treated. But seeing how you are now, another hit to the head wouldn't make much of a difference, would it?" He says snidely, although his rather rude commentary is followed by a short series of coughs.

Vera avoids her cousin's snark remark and sits herself up. She notices that she is propped against a wooden headboard, very much like her own. She quickly recognizes the familiar peeling grey wallpaper and the musty yet rich smell of wood and hearth. "Remi, how did I...how did we get here?" She rasps, her voice nearly gone and her body somewhat drained from exhaustion.

"Magic." Remi murmurs sarcastically, wiping the last remnants of worry off his face. "The mansion was at the corner. We weren't exactly far away, so I got a passerby with a car to drop us off here." The little dark haired kid rolls his eyes and discreetly places a tray onto her nightstand. Before she can ask, he replies, "I got the keys from your pocket." 

Vera stares at the tray and large bowl of ice water above it, a damp white towel dangling of the side of the bowl. She brings herself to look at Remi, who appears as if he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. An embarrassed warm glow coats his cheeks as he scowls in her direction without giving her any eye contact. "I...just read somewhere that you were supposed to cool the bruised area."

She stands up from her bed, slightly wobbly on her legs. Vera leans against the bed frame for a second longer before bringing herself to walk over to her little cousin. Flashes of white and fire encircles her mind but she only blinks them away. "Why are you soaking wet Remi? You've already gotten yourself sick!" 

The little boy's only response is a single sneeze, followed by another cough. "We are out of ice and plastic bags. There were only a few cubes of ice in the freezer so I figured that I could put those in water. But our faucet doesn't exactly function, so I opted to get water from the shower. And at the time, I had forgotten that the faucet in the shower and the shower hose always malfunctions. And so it had proceeded to spray me with cold water before I could escape out of its wrath and such, and besides, I still had to fill the bucket with water, so I guess that left me with little choice, and I couldn't exactly leave you for dead...could... I?" He ends his long ramble with a series of soft coughs, all before his legs give out from underneath him.

At an instant, Vera dashes over to her cousin and catches him before he can hit the ground. Her eyes widen when she feels that the skin around his neck is feverishly hot beneath her fingers. "Remedius, how long did you stand under that shower to get the water for me?" She asks him, the concern heavy in her voice.

"An...hour...or perhaps two." The little kid coughs before wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I don't know, I was in the shower. I couldn't...exactly look at the time." Vera carries him to her bed and gently places him onto the mattress. A pink flush traces his cheeks and he moves to swat her hands away. "I'm not...I'm not sick. I'm supposed to be...taking care of you."

This time, Vera rolls her eyes at her cousin. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine now. You, however, are not. Now stay there while I get clothes to change into. I can't allow you to stay in those damp clothes." She chastises gently. "Also, I thought you'd know better than to stay underneath a cold shower for more than to ten minutes," She pauses, before giving her cousin a small smile,"but thank you. For taking care of me. I appreciate it."

::::

When Remi had successfully changed out of his wet clothes and has suitably agreed to let her take care of him just for this one day, Vera decides to take today as the one chance for her to gain his affection. So she had proceeded to shower him with old, childish boardgames in hopes of entertaining him while he was stuck in bed with a fever of a hundred and one.

At first, the little kid had complained and protested, claiming that those things were not of any importance to him and that he was far too advanced for such insignificant forms of entertainment. Of course, after several minutes of non-stop persuasion, he had finally agreed to play one game of chess with her. Which then became another game of chutes and ladders. Which had ultimately led to another game of building wooden towers and marble games.

She returns to his room with a steaming bowl of traditional Vietnamese noodles in her hands. She places the soup onto his bedside before gently tapping the back of his shoulder. The little kid stirs in his sleep and quietly murmurs something beneath his breath before rolling over to her. His eyes still remain closed.

Vera blinks at him, unknowing of what to do next. She brushes away the aftermath of the three hours they had spent playing boardgames in her room, which undoubtedly are chessboard pieces and boardgames, before sitting on the edge of the bed.

She takes the next few seconds to take in the awry resemblance of his features, his similar dark hair and even darker lashes. She remembered the letters telling her of where both of their parents had come from and how so much of a coincidence it was that their histories were intertwined even before they had met one another. It was said that his parents had died eight years after hers. Both of their mothers, whom happened to be sisters, had come from a small village in Vietnam, while their fathers, whom were the best of friends, had been raised in the town of Ars-en-Ré. The letter had been all too confusing for her twelve year old mind, and the letter had been so unspecific and undoubtedly  questionable, that she had decided to not mind their backgrounds. After all, it did not matter who they were before they came into existence, did it?

"Remi," She says in a soft voice. "Are you hungry? I brought you some soup, in case you were." He doesn't respond to her, his mind still clouded in sleep and exhaustion. Vera figures that he can use some more rest and that he could eat whenever he wakes up. It would be better if he gets the proper amount of rest with the fever that he is harboring at the moment, she thinks as she brings the covers closer to his chest. 

Vera sits up from his bed and starts to walk out, when she stops and turns to lift his hair out of his eyes. Although she doubts that he can hear her when he is in such a deep slumber, she parts her lips and begins to sing a lullaby. It is not the first time she has sung to him. Softly, she has always found herself singing so softly. And perhaps Remi has heard her the many times before, or perhaps he has not, she has always found herself singing to him. "Tu es mon rayon de soleil, mon seul rayon de soleil, tu me rends heureux quand les cieux sont gris." Her gentle voice is barely audible, yet it is filled with absolute warmth and endearment. "Vous ne saurez jamais ma chère, combien Je vous aime, S'il vous plaît ne me prenez pas mon rayon de soleil."

::::

Everything is okay, for the first time in a long time, for Vera has found herself sleeping soundlessly on the living room couch, completely unaware of the terrible, terrible danger that is going to occur tonight. 

Everything is silent, all except for the soft, steady breathing of the two children of the mansion, and the soft, oh so soft and sinister, echo of footsteps. Not even a single cricket chirps as the pink skies rot to wondrous shades of ebony bones and aging bruises. Even the stars are hiding behind the dark clouds, afraid of the misfortune that is about to unravel the second the grandfather clock strikes midnight.

Ding. Ding. Ding. 

A scream of a horrified child pierces the night. 

All followed by the sound of shattering glass and breaking bones.

::::

AUTHOR'S NOTE :

GUYS AND GALS, WTH JUST HAPPENED IN THIS CHAPTER. *insert millions of exclamation marks and shocked faces :o * Honestly, I thought that was incredibly intense, the first part of it at least (not to mention the very last parts of it as well LOL) To be quite frank (who's frank, and why are you trying to be him? goodness, sophia stop, you're not funny. that was intense. you can un-intensify it, dang it) the first slightly poetic part of the story is based on the basic fundamentals of society and the oppression it puts upon a person and the very many things that it withholds from an individual. Let's just say indirectly acknowledging the one of many issues of the general public, yes? 

BESIDES THAT VERY SERIOUS POINT, I WOULD LIKE TO THANK YOU ALL FOR #55 PARANORMAL. OMG WHUT EVEN. That is the highest rating I've ever gotten, like ever. And I couldn't have done it without you amazing readers. AH.  (lol so maybe another quicker update if we can get this chapter to 300 reads, 60 votes, and 30 comments hmm? *insert eyebrow raise and a subtle wink*) Now the following are shoutouts to the most kindest, sweetest authors I've met here on wattpad: 

OuranTwins, finding-simba, Falling_Fate, TeaNHeartache, soulreader16, RimanEllis, Vicki_Grace, blackrosedrop, Zach_Young, DearShawol, Right_Word, peculiarnerd, YzzbaG, @dazedhearts

and the many many more of you who have been so incredibly supportive of this story. Thank you so much for all of your kind words and time and dedication. I appreciate you so very very much! ^-^ c,:

TILL NEXT TIME!