Mommy. Daddy.
I don’t want to be homeschooled. Why can’t I stay in school with my friends?
Because Sylvia, we’ve learned it’s best for you.
Mommy. Daddy.
Why can’t I go to my friend’s birthday party?
Trust us Sylvia, when you’re older you’ll understand.
Mommy! Daddy!
What happened!? There are blood stains on both of ye.
Don’t worry Sylvia, there was a small accident coming home. Go back to bed dear.
Mom! Dad!
My hair! Its gone silver! And my eyes! Why are they red!? Are they bleeding!?
It’s ok Sylvia, there’s something we have to tell you.
Mom.
What you think? Not bad for my first attempt at a jam pie.
It’s not; looks like you’ll be a good cook if you learn.
Thanks! ...you know I’ll never understand why they like blood so much, it’s only ok.
Well Sylvia, that’s what makes us different from them, we’re one of a kind.
Dad.
Come on! There’s no need to hold back on me, you’ve trained me well, I can handle it.
So it seems. Looks like I trained you too well, maybe you’re getting better then your old man.
One more time Dad! And give me everything you’ve got.
Very well Sylvia.
Mom. Dad.
I want to help ye. Please let me go with you.
We’re sorry Sylvia, but we don’t want you to get involved in what we do, we want you to live a normal life.
But you know I can’t! I’m twenty-two years old, and this is what I want to do!
We’re sorry Sylvia...
Mom, Dad,
Mom! Dad!
No!
Mom!! Dad!!
Sylvia opened her eyes, as she awoke from her dream, to stare up at the ceiling of the bedroom. Her breathing was fast and heavy and a cold sweat broke out across her body. She eventually calmed down as she felt the coldness that filled the room. The window was open wide, with the slightly transparent purple velvet curtains blowing from the wind. She started to shiver as she laid outside the covers of the queen-sized bed, wearing only a red t-shirt, that was cut in a few different places. She got up and walked over to the window. She put her hands on the cold windowsill and leaned out as she looked out up at the night sky, locks of her dark brown hair blew across her face from the northern wind. The moon, just new, was shining down from behind the dense clouds, dimly lighting the dark bedroom. Tiny drops of snow fell silently on the windowsill and her hands that felt gentle and refreshing. The land below was covered in a blanket of white from the snow. She stared out, almost in a trance, at the woods that surrounded her and at the outline of the mountains, both of which were covered in snow. It was cold and Sylvia watched as she could see her breath in the air before giving a shiver. The curtains pressed against her body each time the wind died down. One of them somehow ended up almost wrapped around her as if it was hugging to keep her warm, and to let her cry out her sadness that she hid behind an emotionless face.
She closed the window, stopping the coldness of the wind from invading the bedroom. Sylvia might as well have been deaf, as there wasn’t a single sound to hear in the house after she closed the window, complete silence, enough to make someone start talking to themselves. Her head turned to the floor below a chair near a locker, a jeans and a leather jacket, both white, were laying there. She picked them up and put them neatly over the chair, catching a glance of herself in the mirror. Her body was slender and somewhat athletic, only a few inches from being six feet tall. She was always told she was pretty; a person that would stand out in a room full of people. Her eyes a piercing blue, like a wolf’s, that could give a cold stare in an instance freezing even the hottest flame. Her dark brown hair hung below her shoulders, some resting on them, straight but slightly curled at the tips. She quietly returned to the bedside and sat on it, staring around the room. It was a simple room, big enough for two. A closet, lockers with a small snow globe on top of one of them saying ‘Happy Christmas’, it had everything you need in a bedroom. She turned her attention to the desk next to the bedside where she saw a frame and a pair of keys. She picked up the frame from the desk and held it in the light so see could see it. Inside was a photo with three people in it in a garden; a woman, who was sitting down, with a man standing at her side and a child sitting on her lap. All of them were casually dressed in it but the most important thing to Sylvia was that they were all smiling.
“Hope you don’t mind, Mom, Dad, but I’m going to sleep in your bed tonight. Just like when I was younger, ok?” she said to herself quietly.
Sylvia kissed the picture before putting it back on the desk, making sure it was turned into the bed. She lifted the clovers and slid inside the bed, resting in the middle. She curled up and faced the photo as she rested. Water filled her eyes as she stared at it, but no tears left them. Taking one final look at it, she closed her eyes, making sure the photo was the last thing she saw, before drifting off to sleep once again.
The sound of a ringing alarm clock could be heard as morning came. The sun’s rays broke through the clouds as it just reached above the mountain tops. The light dimly shone inside the window, across the bed where Sylvia had slept, which was now a mess and empty. She was inside the bathroom. White, titled and spotless was the best to describe the whole room, from the floor to the walls and ceiling. Her red t-shirt was hanging on a silver railing where white towels were put, next to the shower. Steam drenched the air in the room as the shower shot water down upon Sylvia. The back of her body was covered in small cuts and bruises. They were new to her body but nothing too serious. The warm water relaxed her muscles, especially around the areas where they were. But as she turned her left side to face the shooting water, she felt a sting. She slid her hand down to her waist, where she felt a cut, still slightly open. As she touched it, blood slowly came from it. Although blood slowly slid down her clear white skin, she didn’t seem in pain nor bothered by it. Instead, she moved her hand away from it as she adjusted the shower to make the water shift from warm to ice cold. She sat down in the corner of the shower, hugging her knees, and let the water pierce the cut. It strung more but it didn’t concern her at all as she watched some of her blood flow down the hole of the shower until it eventually stopped coming from the cut. She caught hold of some of her hair and twirled it around her finger. She soon took it between two fingers and started rubbing it off each other while in thought.
Mom!
You told me the full moon was yesterday!
It was Sylvia, wasn’t it?
No! It’s tonight! And my hair is ruined from trying to dye it! Look at it! It’s white and blonde now!
You still...look nice dear.
No I don’t! It looks like a dripping egg!
At least it’s original Sylvia.
She turned off the shower and got out. She wrapped a white towel around her, soft and puffy. She left the bathroom and turned left to walk down the corridor. The walls were wooden titled from the ground up that stopped half ways, being replaced by decorative green wallpaper, the floor was a navy coloured carpet with a roll out red carpet lying on top in the centre of the corridor. It was filled with ornaments and paintings, each exquisite and unique, but as she got close to the end the corridor, it was different. Paintings were on the ground, there glass frames smashed, some paintings destroyed completely, among the rubble of ornaments. Reaching the end, she came out to a huge room, the main hall of the mansion. It spanned up two floors with it’s walls covered in pearl white paint; Sylvia was standing on the balcony of the second floor of the east wing. The whole room was destroyed; pillars and ornaments now just rubble on the ground, ruining the dark purple carpet that stretched from the central stairs to the entrance of the mansion. The pale wooden banisters of the balcony and the stairs partly destroyed, glass from windows also sprinkled the ground, sparking like diamonds from the glaze of the sun, now directly overhead, shining straight down through a crack in the oval glass in the centre of the ceiling. The dust filled the air, floating through the rays from the destruction. The floor was also left in a mess, with tiles sticking out of the ground, as if cannonballs crashed straight from the sky. Sylvia looked around at everything, taking it in as each part of the wreckage made mind race through recent memories.
What the...
Mom! Dad!
Where are you!?
Mom! Dad!
What’s happened here...?
...no
No!! No!!!
You!!!
Sylvia walked around the balcony, carefully minding glass or anything else that was on front of her holding onto her towel tightly. It was a cold morning and the broken glass ceiling didn’t help as it let the cold air fall in. She could feel goose bumps on her skin as she sneezed. She walked down a flight of stairs down to the top of the central stairway.
As she reached it, she looked at the wall next to her at a huge wooden frame, with gold decorative stones craved into it. The glass covering it was also broken. It was one of the first things that could be seen as anyone came into the hall from the front entrance. Inside was a sword built with strong metal and forged into a unique design; its cutting side was the same as any high quality sword, but the other side of the sword was designed like a ocean wave, three in fact, which flowed into each other, each one getting bigger from the tip to the handle. You could tell from looking that this side of the blade was also attended to cut. The handle was beautifully made in itself. It was like a katana’s but it was designed to be easily gripped compared to other swords. It was coated white with a wing craved into each side. Its hand guard was unusual, it was shaped like an octagon with what seemed to be a bird’s wing sticking out at each angle, reaching half ways down the handle. These and the hand guard were of the same metal as the sword but coloured a steel blue with an amber jewel at the end of each wing. The sword’s sheath sat next to it. It was a simple sheath, painted purple, one side half open, to allow for the blade’s unique design. On the end of the sheath where the handle would be sticking out was the symbol of a small bird holding a lantern by its legs There was a plaque next to it with the word ‘Lucinia’ engraved into it. Next to that blade was a gun and its holster, the gun looked like any normal gun but on both sides at the end of the barrel was the design of a flame sticking out, coated in red. The name ‘Abyssus’ was engraved into the plaque next to it. Sylvia looked at the names on other plaques in the case, ‘Messor’ and ‘Noctis’ but there was nothing next to those plaques. She remembered them though as she looked at there names.
Daddy!
Are these yours? Did you make them?
No Sylvia, these are my great grandfather’s. These have been passed down to each generation of the Craneheart family.
Wow! They look weird though.
Well they will be passed down to you someday.
Really?!
Yes Sylvia, when the time is right.
Sylvia continued towards the west wing and walked down one of the corridors, same design as the other she was at. She stopped at a door at the end and opened it to reveal another bedroom. This one was smaller then the other but still quite big at the same time. The walls surrounding it were a royal blue and it consisted of a huge wardrobe, a desk, covered in different kinds of make up and jewellery, with a mirror attached to the top. Both the desk and wardrobe were both made of very fine oak which was clearly varnished. There was also two lockers as well, made just like the desk and wardrobe. One was standing next to the desk. It was big and had a television sitting on top of a DVD player and a stereo right next to it. The locker was filled with different DVDs and cds. It faced the bed, which was straight ahead when coming into the room. The locker next to the bed was smaller and had a clock on it, which read two o’clock in the afternoon and a small lamp also. The light shined in through the window on the wall to the left of the door, showing the dust as it flowed in the air.
Sylvia walked over to the wardrobe and opened it. She took out a black leather jeans and a tight short-sleeved top which was also black. She put these on her before putting on a red sleeveless zipped-top over the other top, both which she tucked into her jeans, and then put on a black leather jacket that was long sleeved and came down to her waist. She put a dark brown leather belt around her jeans and put on black leather boots before going over to her desk and taking black fingerless leather gloves off it. She also took a silver chain which had a cross hanging off it, with a ruby craved into it, and put it around her neck. She slid her hands through her straight dark brown hair before throwing it back and letting it fall down to just below her shoulders. She looked up at the mirror at her piercing blue eyes. She stared at the bed side through it.
Mom!
What do you think?
My, Sylvia, black does seem to be your colour.
You think? I wonder what he’d think. ...I don’t know should I do this Mom.
Don’t worry about Sylvia, it’s your first date, enjoy it.
But, what if...you know, anything happens.
It won’t Sylvia, trust me.
She started to breathe heavier and heavier as she looked but eventually she took one deep breath and let out a sigh. Pausing for a few moments, a look of determination came across her face; one that anyone could tell she was going to do what she needed or wanted to do without thinking twice. She grabbed some money that was on the locker and she left the room.
Heading back down the corridor, she pushed in a door that was already open somewhat revealing the bedroom which she had slept in. She walked over to the desk with the frame and took a pair of keys from it. She left and returned to the main hall, standing on front of the case which was broken. She took the blade and its sheath, putting it into it, and wrapped it around her back so the handle was sticking out behind her right shoulder. She then took the gun and its holster and put them on the left side of her waist. After setting herself with the remaining sword and gun, she walked down the stairway and crossed over the rubble as she headed towards the main door of the mansion. When she came to the door, she picked up a black motorcycle helmet which seemed to have being just dropped on the ground. She stared at it and looked back at the hall.
Mom! Dad!
What are you doing? That man, he’s bleeding.
We’ll take care of him Sylvia. We need you to go out and search the area, make sure we weren’t followed.
Followed?
Yes, check around the woods ok. And be careful.
Don’t worry, I’ve got this.
Thank you, Sylvia...
Sylvia’s eyes shut, before reopening them and turning towards the door. She took the helmet with her and open the door to finally head outside.
It was winter, and a cold one from what Sylvia remembered from years past. But it was her favourite season of the year, ever since she could remember seeing snow for the first time. It always seemed to give her what she thought of as a warm flame in her heart which she thought was ironic because of the weather that comes with it. How everyone use to be so nice during this time of the year and how she always spent time with her parents more than usual. The one thing she could never understand though when she was younger was why her and her parents always spent it by themselves but today, it was easier to know why.
The sky had an overcast of grey clouds, stopping the sun from fully shining through. Snow faintly dropped from the clouds, bringing a cold feeling to the heart, typical weather for the middle of winter. She walked down the small flight of steps from the entrance that was covered in snow. At the bottom she stepped on a pathway, half covered in snow, and the rest of the land was fully covered in its blanket. She looked at the woods in the distance that surrounded the mansion. Just like the night that past there was no sound. No birds singing, no whistle from the wind, not even a howl from wolves that made there life in the area. Just a few feet from where she stood was a big fountain; the path circled around it before joining back together and continued heading south into the woodland of trees. No water was gushing from the fountain; instead the water was after turning to ice. It reminded her of the times when she was young of how she would ice skate on top of it going around and around until finally, when she got older, she went ice skating in the city.
Sylvia looked at the fountain before her eyes started to scan down to what looked like two graves on front of it, both with a cross sticking out of each, both looking newly made. She walked over and kneeled down on front of them. One of the crosses had the word ‘Mom’ scratched into it while the other had ‘Dad’.
“I’ll make ye proper tombstones when I come back. I promise, Mom, Dad.” Sylvia said as she looked at them.
Standing back up, Sylvia turned around and walked towards a midnight blue painted motorcycle that was parked just to the side of the steps. She got on it and started it with the keys she took. Putting the helmet on her, she rode off down the half covered path that led into the forest in the distance.
