𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒
𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚊'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅

My mouth was agape as I gawked at the man in front of me. He was an ethereal being to look at, every bit dangerous as he was seductive as he gazed across the room.

His eyes skimmed the movements of the people before him. Their bowed heads had shown signs of respect, his chin jutted out as if pleased with the overcoming amount of awe from the dead and living.

My mind had a dazy sensation as if it was being suffocated by the overcoming power his highness had over the room. He was to choose a lady to dance with. I thought. Knots in my stomach tangled up, anchoring my heart to the bottom of the floor.

I watched as he slowly leaned down the staircase. A long trail of a black coat trailed after him as vines of black smoke encompassed him like armor.

It looked as if he was levitating off the room as I saw him walk towards one of the girls. He bent his face downwards, his big stature about 6' 3", leaning over the girl. A young woman, no older than 20. She had big brown eyes, similar to my brother's and adorned an emerald green satin attire.

Her hair was in ringlets raining down the sides of her neck as twirls of hair, framing her rounded face. She was simply stunning. She bowed even lower to the ground if possible, displaying her deepest respect and submission. But he turned away.

I watched as he slowly stepped towards another girl. This one wore a deep red color. The fabric was decorated in small golden details adorned with a few golden laced cuffs.

Her hair was a deep shade of burgundy and her lips were painted in a blood red hue. She smiled mischievously as he walked even closer to her. She jutted out her chest, making sure her body was flush against the low light. She stood up straighter. He leaned down, his eyes squinting, he snapped his gloved hands.

Without a word, two men dressed in black armor, their faces shielded by an iron mask rushed in. They fiercely grabbed her arms and hands, wrapping them around her back. "W-what are you d-doing?" She jumbled out protests.

The woman looked around precariously. She kicked her legs out, her heavy gown holding her in a tight place."NO! NO! Please don't! I was only kidding! Please, this is a big misunderstanding! Please!! Help! ANYONE!"  I watched as her body left the room,  all eyes on her as her screams echoed through the palace halls.

That was the last time I saw her.

My gaze was transfixed as he turned, facing towards me. His cloak wrapped around his neck, hiding every single part of his body.

His boots thudded across the ground, his Victorian slacks showing with each deliberate step I held in my breath, praying that the shadows concealed me, rendering me invisible in the room.

The pendant around my neck throbbed with an unsetting warmth, as if reacting to the presence of the mysterious figure drawing closer. I shut my eyes awaiting the sharp pull of the curtain revealing my shaking body.

However, it never came. I slowly opened my eyes, relief washing over me as I witnessed him take a sharp turn away from me. I'm safe. I sighed.

A little too loudly though...

A subtle crack echoed through the room, an ominous precursor to the rapid approach of footsteps. My eyes widened as a black-gloved hand emerged,  pulling the dark curtain aside. It was him.

I slowly raised my head up from staring at the ground. His eyes locked onto me, revealing an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. I locked onto those black eyes of his, they were like pools of midnight skies bleeding into the starry night.

They were sharp, almost cat-like as I gazed, his pupils dilated. His head tilted, and I watched as his gaze sharpened. He took a quick inhale of breath, his shoulders tensing. He knew who I was.

I watched as his arm slowly raised. Panic surged me as I anticipated the same fate. God he was probably going to do to me what they did to that poor woman. However, I watched as his awaiting hand opened, his palm awaiting, extending towards me. A silent invitation that froze me in place.

"Dance with me." He mumbled. His deep voice reverberated off the walls filling the room with a transfixing sound.

The moment his gloved hand enveloped mine, a current of warmth surged through my veins, the connection immediate and electrifying. The grand ballroom, illuminated by the dim glow of ethereal lights, became a stage for our clandestine dance.

The phantom's touch was both commanding and gentle, guiding me with a firm yet subtle pressure. As our fingers interlaced, I couldn't escape the sensation that I had stepped into a realm where the boundary between reality and enchantment blurred.

No matter how hard I tried to run away, it was as if my feet stayed glued to the ground. As if controlled by a puppeteer my feet danced along the music without missing a beat.

I watched as he leaned forward, his stubble grazing my skin. He mumbled, "Now, Anastasia, I may be a couple of dozen centuries years old, but I'm not a fool. I know you're certainly not supposed to be here," he remarked, his words a playful dance in the silence.

My eyes widened as he brushed a loose curl away from my face. "I'm not supposed to be here?! I was a sacrificial lamb tossed to the slaughter house- or you- I didn't ask for this" I whispered back. I watched as figures began to join us.

"The Offering" He mumbled back. "I just didn't expect it to be someone so-"

"What?" I snapped back, daring him.

He paused before clicking his tongue. "So deliciously innocent. Clueless. I'm surprised you survived for so long. Usually they get to them first." He mumbled. What is he talking about?

I looked down, my gown brushing against his suit. Silence remained between our tangled bodies.

His gloved hand, cool against my skin, gently lifted my chin, guiding my gaze to meet his eyes. "Now there's a face I remember," he mumbled, the silver mask veiling the emotions that lingered in his gaze. Had I not been paying attention, I would've missed his crooked smile.

The heat of his touch seeped through onto my face leaving me breathless. The gloved hand that held me seemed to radiate a warmth that hinted at an otherworldly energy.

My eyebrows crinkled in confusion. Remember? He can't possibly remember me from when I was younger.

As we twirled and swayed, his movements were a symphony of seduction, each step a deliberate invitation that echoed in the hallowed halls of the castle.

The cloak around him, a shroud of mystery, brushed against me with a velvety caress, leaving an indelible mark on my senses. His body pressed against mine, and I could feel the heat emanating from him, like a dormant flame now awakening.

"There's something...daring about you," He paused. "Something so delectable. Desirable. You taste so sweet...so inviting..." He took a deep breath in slowly exhaling. His breath circled the top of my head.

His proximity was intoxicating, the scent of midnight rain and ancient secrets swirling around us.

His hold on me tightened when I tried to move away, pulling me deeper- closer- to the shadows that surrounded him.

"Please don't hurt me. I just- I just need to know-" His glove grabbed my face, my chin resting on his palm as he tilted me upward. I was met with a pair of black eyes.

It was as if the man before me was gone. A monster stood.

"You sweet, sweet girl. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself mangled up with. Tsk Tsk...I could twist your heart right out of your little body. I could squeeze every drop of blood from your fragile mortal frame. You have no power here or out there. You're in our world now little girl."

His gaze never wavered. There was a magnetic pull, an invisible force that bound us together. 'In our world'? What did he mean by that? In the dim light, I caught glimpses of his smile, a tantalizing hint of the secrets he held. The dance became a shared journey through time and space, a silent conversation conducted in the language of movement.

My necklace began to glow, its red jewel buzzing with energy as it surged outward wrapping its energy around me like a snake choking me of my every breath.

The glow intensified, casting a crimson radiance that painted the ballroom in shades of allure. I felt the power of the pendant coursing through my veins, a blend of warmth and sharp pain flowed through my heart.

A surge of memories flooded my consciousness. Images of the ghostly castle, the haunting waltz, and the cryptic diary flashed before my eyes. The pendant, it seemed, held the key to unlocking the secrets of the Phantom's Waltz. Stay away. Go...before it's too late. A voice begged. I gripped my head, shutting my eyes. My mouth fell open- a scream bellowed out. The red jewel pulsed in rhythmic harmony with the dance, a beacon illuminating the path to truths hidden in the veiled corridors of time.

For the first time that night, I saw shock flow through his features. His mouth fell agape as his black gloved hands gripped my arms.

I felt my strength waver. As the pendant's glow receded, a surge of dizziness swept over me and the ballroom spun in a kaleidoscope of colors. My limbs grew heavy and the music became a distant melody fading into my consciousness.

"Anastasia...Anastasia? Guards! Quickly!" He sunk to the ground. He seemed...concerned? But why? We had only known each other for a few moments. This was him. A ghost. I'd heard stories of him eating children, killing mothers and cooking their livers to eat. Why me?

In the final moments of the waltz, my knees crumbled to the ground, the rich fabric of my gown billowing around me like a protective cocoon. The last thing I saw before succumbing was the figure, his silver mask racing toward me. His gloved hand pulled me in, his body shielding me from the onlookers.

As the boundaries between the real and the ethereal blurred, my senses plunged into a blanket of darkness. The whispers of the spectral onlookers echoed faintly, their voices merging with fading strains of the waltz. The pendant, now a dormant relic against my skin, cradled with secrets it held within, leaving me to the realms of dreams in its embrace.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　

I awoke in a dingy dungeon, the walls cracked and droplets of water echoed throughout. The silent corridors of the castle were bare and empty, no longer full of the life that had filled the place not too long ago.

But something didn't seem right.

My hands were clutching a worn mop and tarnished bucket, but the melodies of the waltz whispered in the shadows. They were replaying the songs.

Except for the joyce of a few new instruments joining in; I heard the bass of the saxophone buzzing around as a trumpet played in tune. A flute fluttered about, the notes filtering through.

The music was the same haunting song but this one felt cherry. I heard laughter instead of screams, chatter instead of silence...people were happy. There was genuine laughter.

My surroundings began to blur, morphing into a vibrant ballroom. It was as if my thoughts were in sync with the palace. The cracked walls were replaced by grand arches adorned with opulent tapestries. The music swirled around me.

Confusion gripped me as I glanced at my reflection in a nearby mirror. My appearance had changed; I was no longer myself. 'Where even am I?" I gasped. My voice was higher, it was softer. And it wasn't my own.

I quickly ran to a nearby mirror, gazing into it my eyes widened. I appeared to be that of a young woman from the Victorian era, a servant within the castle. Her attire of a life of toil and dedication, a contrast to the golden room.

I was adorned in a simple yet serviceable maid's uniform, the fabric slightly worn from diligent work. She, me, I wore a modest dress, it was ripped in places and covered in dust and musk.

A white apron tied securely around my waist. A small cap nestled atop my head, neatly tied in a low bun. Loose curls framed my face, wisps of the locks escaping from my hair ribbon.

As if pulled by an unknown force, my body began to move on its own, propelling me toward the grand doors. My hands lifted, seeming to operate autonomously, as if guided by an invisible presence that orchestrated my movements.. Life flashed before my eyes, the ghosts danced faster as my feet began to speed past the halls down the stairs.

A rapid succession of memories and visions flashed through my brain. Time accelerated, as if caught in a sped-up rendition of the night. My feet carried me swiftly through the winding halls and down the cascading stairs.

I soon found myself kneeling next to the sink, my hands covered in grease as I scraped the underneath side of the cabinet. A scraper was held in my hands. What the hell. I thought I was in the ballroom. A murmur of whispers reached my ears.

"You will NOT believe what I found downstairs whilst cleaning his highness's quarters Lyla." A maid whispered. Her eyes practically bugged out of her head. Her hands grasped at her sides. Their pitter patter of footsteps echoed throughout the kitchen corridors.

"Ergh not this time Kiera, you know how I hate your little stories. His highness did this, his highness did that," she raised her voice to a squeak, imitating the poor girl. "I doubt none of the gossip spilled amongst the maids are true regardless. Besides, it's foolish of you to speak of him in such a matter. He'll cut off your tongue if he hears even a word of what you're saying!" Lyla snarled back.

She was chipping at her nails, leaning against the counter. A mop was placed resting along her hip almost close to tipping over.

"No, not this time. This time was different. It was a man. I swear I saw him. Oh you should have seen him! His eyes were so hollowed out. His skin was cracked, dry to the bone. And his body, oh dear god he was skin and bones." She pulled at her own skin.

"Practically a standing skeleton. And-and he was shackled to the ground, like a prisoner. His hands and ankles were tied down with these weights, bolted to the floor. I reckon it's one of the guards, you know how his highness gets when there's-" A sudden loud thundering crash of plates echoed throughout the kitchen followed with a terroring scream from a young girl.

Her palms were wide open dripping with blood. Her face was ghastly white. She looked as if she'd seen a ghost.

The same force as before hit my body forward, driving me through the descents of the castle. My feet skipped around as I tried to catch my spinning mind. I think I'm going to throw up. 

My body shifted as I reached the dimly lit basement. I hid in the doorway, my breath caught as I overheard the muffled voices, a symphony of distorted echoes.

Their heavy breaths and harsh ragged voices made me tense up. There were at least three of them, standing there. I heard a hard metal smack and a loud cry bounce off the walls.

Suddenly, yells and shouts reverberated through the confined space, a terror that transcended. The air became thick with tension as I watched the scene before me unfold.

My breath stopped as I observed the ghastly scene in front of me. A man spilled onto the cold floor of the basement, his mouth sliced open in a twisted smile that extended unnaturally towards his eyes.

The gruesome wound painted an eerie picture on his face, an imitation of joy. His eyes, cruelly cut out, left behind vacant pools of darkness that seemed to absorb what little light lingered in the dimly lit space.

The pallor of his skin contrasted starkly to the red of the pooling blood. Crimson fluid oozed from the gory wound in his mouth, the metallic scent hung heavy in the air.

I knelt down on instinct, my hands shaking in the air. I didn't know what to do. I'd never lost a family member before, never even lost a pet.

The idea of death was new, alarming, and unfamiliar. He's gone, Anastasia. He's not coming back. I quickly lifted my head, remembering where I was.

But it was too late as I saw a metal sword coming flying towards my face. His long legs steaded right for me, his body decorated in golden steel. However, something was different.

When I looked at his face, it had a black swirl mist around it. As if something or someone had blocked it from my mind. I shut my eyes awaiting the impact- the cold metal pressed against my head as-

　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙̩̩͙*˚

A splash of water hit my face as I gasped up for air. I gripped my neck, my eyes widened. B-but I was going to die. But I'm still alive? How? I was going to die...but I'm alive? 

"It was a dream?" I muttered. But everything felt so real. I know I saw that man. I felt him. I could smell the blood. God, who was that man?

Why was his face blurred? Why couldn't I tell who he was? What did that girl see in the kitchen? Why was he killed? Was it something I did? A snappy voice silenced my questions. A heavy accent lined his tongue.

"Ah ye've finally come to yer senses," the voice continued, its resonance echoing through the damp chamber. Blinking away the disorientation, I found myself face to face with a tall figure. His brown hair was curled and was grown out. Though the rest of his features were obscured by the dim lighting.

As he continued to speak, my attention wavered, drawn instead to the dismal surroundings that enveloped me. The walls, constructed of crumbling stone, bore the scars of time and neglect.

Vines snaked through the corners of the room, their tendrils creating a chaotic tapestry of browns, greens, and grays against the cold, lifeless stone.

The floor, devoid of any semblance of comfort, hosted only a small, soiled mattress and a bucket, the latter likely intended for my basic needs. Yet, my mind scarcely registered these details as a disconcerting realization settled in—I found myself in the very dungeon that had haunted my dreams. What the hell happened?

Word count: 3214

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𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭!

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