𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔
𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚊'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅

The cold winds seeped underneath the old woolen tunic of my shirt when I awoke. A brisk chill wrapped around my face, digging deeper into my skin.

Sun poured in between the vines that hung from the small cave I resided in. A shiver ran through my spine as I recalled the events of last night. God I'm so stupid.

Ever since I was younger I had been haunted by the castle. I remember the figures dancing gracefully in the ballroom, the echoes of laughter and the clatter of plates. I remember seeing a woman's head dipping, giggles escaping her as she scraped some food off of her partner's chin.

I remember the starry sky and the dark woods. I remember their claws and their burdened faces. But most importantly I remember the man that hid beneath his black cotton cloak.

Days after that event I would toss and turn in my small pink bed. I was frightened of the powers that seemed to flow through the creature I had encountered.

The kindness he showed to me, I remember that gentle look he gave me. How the sharpness in his features softened, his jagged mouth cracked up on the side forming a small smile.

But there was something else in that look I couldn't quite place. How his eyes dropped. How the very corners of his lips peaked down, a frown.
I shivered as I recalled the rest of him. His cloak is most of his identity, however those deep obsidian eyes seemed to caress even the light.

A strange thought occurred to me as I remembered the encounter in the ballroom. How old is he? Though outwardly he couldn't have been more than 20 years old, who knew how long the castle had been around.

When I first stepped in the dome, it was as if time was at a standstill. My dress aged itself, the fabric twisting into an attire fit for the Victorian era.

The way everyone spoke, sophistication and elegance oozed from their sparkling figures. The book from the library said they were tethered to the castle. But what does that mean?

Some of them, the living dead, wore wounds along their body as if their bodies hadn't changed since their death. But why are they still alive? How is it possible? What I had witnessed that night hadn't fully registered till now.

The impossible was recurring more than once. Though being led by a glowing necklace and climbing through an invisible dome was already breaking through the chains of reality.

I threw a rock against the cave's walls, the clash of the hard material bashed against the surface cutting the pebble in two. I had to forget about my questions for now, I couldn't be distracted from my escape, my survival.

I clutched my hair in my hands, my fingers grasping the threads of hair. God what have I gotten myself into? I shut my eyes tightly, slowly rocking myself back and forth on the moss. I had to get out of here. I needed to get home.

As I rested my head against the stone, I imagined myself cocooned under the safe haven of my bed. I envisioned the soft comforter nestled around my body, hugging me away from the shadows of the night.

I thought of my angel night light that rested in the corner of my room under my desk. The soft vibrant yellow light against my lilac colored wallpaper.

A quiet sigh escaped my lips as I recalled those thoughts. Before the Offering.

I sharply stood up from my spot on the grass when I heard a ruffling sound coming from outside. I quickly searched around looking for anything I could use to attack the intruders. I clenched my teeth, I spotted a sturdy stick on the ground.

My fingers closed around it as I held the makeshift weapon. I couldn't help but picture the bloodlust in the eyes of the guards who pursued me. Their faces contorted with determination, swords glinting in the sunlight.

A shiver ran down me as I imagined the clash of metal, the desperate struggle for survival. The vivid scenes played out in my mind, each detail etched with a chilling precision. I could almost hear the clash of swords, the heavy thud of boots on the ground.

With the stick now positioned beside me, a feeble attempt at preparedness, I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a steadying breath.

The mental images of the guards' bloodlust lingered. I tucked the stick in front of me slowly stepping out from the shadows of my refuge.

I tightly shut my eyes awaiting my death. But it never came.

I felt a small brush against my leg. A tiny ball of white fur invaded my vision. I watched as the bunny hopped into view, a stark contrast between my imagined battleground and the peaceful morning that unfolded.

I relaxed my grip on my weapon, my thoughts shifting to the gentle presence of the bunny. The clearing, bathed in the soft hues of dawn, offered a momentary sanctuary from the uncertainties that awaited me.

I bent down, my fingers sinking into the soft fur of the tiny animal. Its big ears perked up as if acknowledging my presence. For a brief moment, our eyes locked, and a strange connection formed between me and the bunny.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I gently picked the bunny up. Its heart raced against my palms, a rhythmic reminder of the delicate fragility shared by all living beings.

The intricate patterns of sunlight filtered through the leaves. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming flowers, creating a symphony of nature's melodies.

With a newfound sense of calmness, I allowed myself to savor the serenity of the moment. I carefully dropped the bunny onto the ground.

I watched as the creature hopped away, its paws thumping against the grass; its tiny tail slowly becoming smaller and smaller as it raced away.

I ventured beyond the clearing, my surroundings shifting from the peaceful glade to the thicker undergrowth of the trees. I approached one of the taller trees in the forest, its rough bark beckoned like a natural ladder, its branches extending out.

I secured a foothold on the gnarled roots and began my ascent upwards. The chorus of rustling trees and murmur of woodland creatures surrounded me.

As I climbed higher, the air became crispier carrying with it a scent of pine. Reaching a vantage point among the treetops, I marveled at the vision below. The forest stretched miles and miles, its lush hues blending together.

A gentle breeze whispered through the leaves and I felt a profound connection to the ancient rhythm of the woods.

From my spot on the perch I noticed a trail of smoke snaking its way through. The slender tendrils rose lazily, curling into the sky like wisps of incense.

The contrast between the untouched wilderness and the distant sign of human presence. There was somebody else.

As the wind tousled my hair and the treetops swayed in silent conversation, I contemplated the source of the smoke. The forest seemed to hold its breath awaiting the revelation of the secret hidden within the curls of that distant plume.

With newfound determination, I began to climb down each branch, my foot sliding down off the edge of one, my arm tightening around the leaves above me as I regained my footsteps.

As I finally reached the ground traveling South where the smoke followed. The foliage around me darkened, the leaves crunched beneath my feet as the wind sped up rapidly around my hair.

With each step the smoke's scent grew stronger- I'm close.

The forest seemed to part away like a curtain. As I ventured deeper into the woods, the world transformed. The trail of smoke led me to a small clearing, bathed in the soft flow of the sun. There, surrounded by the trees, stood a quaint cottage with a thatched roof, smoke spiraled from its brick chimney.

My senses heightened as I approached, a mixture of apprehension guided my steps.

The cottage exuded a timeless charm, its wooden frame weathered from years of standing within the forest. The door was slightly ajar, creaking as a breeze swept through. I quickly ran behind a brush, bending down. I shuffled my feet around- SNAP.

A sudden, searing pain shot up my leg as the concealed jaws of a trap clamped down on my ankle. I bit my lip to stifle a scream, the metallic taste of my blood filled my mouth. Panic surged, but I fought against it as muffled painful moans escaped me.

As I struggled with the cold, unyielding metal I heard a crackling of the leaves from behind me. I swiftly turned around, strands of hair wacked against my face.

My eyes dotted around the clearing but there was nothing there. "God I must be going cra-" Before I could finish my sentence, a sudden impact against the back of my head sent stars dancing across my vision.

My knees buckled below me and the world spun as I crumpled to the forest floor. The pain pulsed through my skill, leaving me disoriented.

Struggling to regain my senses I touched the back of my head, feeling a sticky warmth that hinted at the beginning of a throbbing wound.

Darkness bled through my eyes, pulling me further away from the light of day.

I slowly shook back and forth as I finally succumbed to the peaceful slumber that awaited me.

Word count: (1729 words)

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭!

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