Burst #16: Falling Petals
Posted July 17th, 2013 by Cherrybomb
A/N: I know, there are a lot of unanswered questions scattered throughout this Burst, but yeah. :P Lots of little ends left untied, maybe you can imagine your own endings for them. ^_^'
The title seems like it doesn't relate at all to the story, so sorry since it's kinda misleading, but for me it relates to the story in certain ways(which are just not obvious at first, so. :P)
Unedited. (oh the horror...D:)
“It’s alright…” she says, “Everything will be okay…”
“No it won’t,” I say, my voice shaking. “Amy, no, everything isn’t going to be okay. I’m going to die, you’re going to die, everyone—“
“Shhh…” she says, putting a finger on my lips. “Danielle, calm down.” She smiles reassuringly.
I can’t calm down, I can’t. I think of those cold green eyes staring me down from the shadows of my bedroom, watching me quietly. I think of the hoarse voice that plagues my dreams throughout the nights. I think of the body hanging from the stable’s ceiling…swishing…swishing…swishing…in tune to the deep tolling of the evening bell and my screams. Boom…Boom…Boom…
I hear the memory of the voice again, and panic. I can smell the putrid flesh, feel the scratchy ropes around my neck…
“No, no, Amy, Amy, Amy—help me Amy—“ I whisper, my raspy voice out of place in the calm light meadow.
She doesn’t speak, only engulfs me in a sisterly hug, cradling my body in her arms. Somehow, it’s exactly what I need, and I blink back the tears, feeling relief in just being held and comforted.
“Shh, Danielle. It’ll be alright, don’t worry…” She blows away a strand of midnight-black hair out of my silver eyes, her minty fresh breath on my face, and smiles. She looks sad, but I don’t know why, and don’t bother to question it. I hug her tighter and bury myself into her shoulder.
“Hey, sis.” I say, my voice muffled in her shoulder. She sounds surprised, but says,
“Thanksforbeingthere.” I mutter quickly, feeling almost embarrassed. She pauses, and then I feel her body shaking with laughter.
“Took you long enough,” She pulls back from me, and stares at me happily, looking almost hesitant. “Sis.”
“It’ll be alright, you know.” My friend Thompson looks over at me as we exit the courtyard.
“Yeah…” I say, quietly. Hesitantly, I look back at him and say, “But…could you come with me to the stables? J-just in case, I mean.”
He looks regretful. “Sorry Danielle, but I promised my mom I’d be home early today.”
My face falls. “Oh.” He notices the look of uncertainty on my face, and wraps one arm around my shoulder, smiling. It’s a very casual move, one I’m sure etiquette says he shouldn’t do in the castle grounds, but it seems like all he wants to do is comfort me and deal with etiquette later. I feel my heart warming.
“I’m sure that no one else will be hurt. Murders…the ones that happen here are usually isolated. Whoever did it probably will never do anything like it again, there’s too much risk of him being caught now.” He smiles at me in reassurance, I smile back at him, and we depart.
As I make my way back to the stables, I suddenly feel a cold tingle of dread, and walk slightly quicker in the cool evening air.
I shudder at the recurring memory, and then pause, scared, as I hear panicked whickers from inside the stable.
I shake my head, and nervously laugh, though I approach the stable slower than I would have. They were probably happy whinnies, not panicked ones…It must be my imagination; my nerves are already high enough as it is.
I push open the stable door, the stench of hay billowing over me as my eyes struggle to adjust in the dark. And then I see it. The body.
It hangs just above me, twirling slowly on its rope as though performing some sort of final death ritual. Its golden blonde hair hangs curled over petite shoulders, its glassy blue eyes stare into nothingness, and a small painful smile waits on her tiny, sad looking face.
My scream rings loudly in the darkness, piercing the night air, clashing with the noise of the frantic thuds of the horses struggling against their holds to escape from the evil of death.
All the while, I can hear the bells tolling in the distance, deep in warning.
A week later, Thompson is the one who find my body, suspended above him in the stables as he struggles to contain his horror. The bells clang in a final, deafening cacophony of victory.
The next night, the bells do not ring.
All is silent.
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