Hey guys, I'm doing two stories at a time right now, so forgive me if I lag behind on updates.
A girl shot down the crowded street, taking no heed of the people surrounding her. Her pursuers strained behind to keep her within sight even though they knew that they had already lost. She wasn't particularly fast, her asailents just weren't accustomed to rushing about the streets of London. After playing with them a while longer,the slight girl decided that she should conserve her energy and smartly stepped into an indention in the nearest alleyway. The two men sailed straight past her. Percilla sighed. Adults were so stupid.
She strolled nonchalantly down the dank alley, her careless feet occasionally faltering on the puddles of filth that drenched London's streets. Her thoughts were centered solely on her sister now, a slow smile creeping up her face. Sickly little Emily would be able to eat again. Her frail face would be so bright when she saw the meager meal! She suddenly stopped to study her reflection in a semi-clear ditch of water.
A short shock of spiky cobolt hair framed a thin, pale, seventeen year old face, and stopped in the middle of a long spindily neck. The eyes that gazed back at her were glowing a feverish and burning yellow. Percilla Nightingale kicked at the puddle in annoyance with narrowed eyes, sending rivulets of dingy dray water flying every which way.
Her eyes were what unsettled people the most, she knew, what evoked the words of 'witch' and 'demon'. It's because of their unfortunate pigmentation that her family cast her out.
She had begun walking shortly after disturbing the puddle, eager to see her sister's cheerful face, which, in turn, caused an expression of almost equal mirth to brighten her face. Just a few more turns! Her leisurely walk became a giddy run as she rounded the second to last corner. Just around the last bend and-
She stopped cold, the stale bread dropping from her grasp, it's warmth leaving her like what remained of the color in her face. A towering black figure giggled in feverish delight as he swung the wickedly gleaming scythe in his taloned hands and brought it up in an arc above his lean body. At his booted feet, a little girl lay sleeping. Emily. Percilla couldn't move, not even enough for her mouth to produce a feeble shriek. The figure gave a final mirthful shriek, stretching his body to full height. And then, the scythe descended upon her sleeping form, imbedding itself with a sickenig wet sound in her side and showering the coarse brick walls in a spray of innocent blood. The man tossed his matted gray head back and cackled even louder, and his voice rang in the older girl's ear like a like a crow's delighted taunt. Emily still looked as if she were just sleeping, her thumb in mouth and her face peaceful, her body curled in a warm ball. The killer grabbed the scythe and unsheathed it from the little girl's body just as glowing strands of what appeared to be a tangle of ribbon sprang forth from her sister's body, casting an etheral glow over the contents of the alleyway. When Percilla's eyes bore deeper into the ribbons, she was astounded to see moving images of some sort, playing back scenes from Emily's daily life. The orphanage. Percilla finding Emily huddled in a crate. Splitting small meals together . Emily's laughing face. Percilla's vision went red and hazy. Suddenly, Percilla found her voice, and She screamed a wordless animal scream, the sort of sound that no human vocal chords should ever be able to make, leaving her with a throat that felt like cleaved meat.
The man seemed to notice her for the first time , because he turned his head from the ribbons. Percilla could not tell if he was actually looking at her, because his eyes were conceiled by a curtain of scruffy gray hair, as was the other half of a scar on the lower left half of his face, the corner of which was warped by a violently contrasting jovial smile. "Well hello my dear~" Then friendly set of his grin suddenly turned more devious cheshire smirk as his eyes seemed to move up her body, a dark shadow crossing what was showing of his face "Those are some interesting eyes you have, Percilla."
Caught beetween fight and flight, Percilla chose flight. She fled from the scene at the same speed that had taken her there, but for an entirely different reason. She wasn't sure, but as she sped, she thought she heard the dry rustling of feathered wings behind her, dissapearing and coming back at random times. The shadows came alive with voices and barely hidden faces, bidding Percilla to run even faster. She ran for ten straight minutes, not sure where her feet were taking the while she could hear the mocking cackle, one that didn't seem too far behind. She could care less so long as she couldn't hear that tormenting cackle that bounced off the walls at every direction. Evening soon turned to the dark embrace of night, and Percilla finally stopped. She collapsed in a panting, sobbing heap on the filthy wet ground, curling into a tiny ball and hugging her knees tightly to her stomach. She didn't know where she was. She didn't care where she was. Emily was gone. Forever .
She lay like that for hours, her body heaving with long, shuddering sobs. She could see nothing but the blade of a scythe portruding from the child she loved so dearly, the one she would do anything to protect. She had failed her sister, the only person she hed ever cared for. As exceptance washed in, she found that she could no longer cry. A wave of peace enveloped her body and she suddenly felt a temporary sense of tranquility. She knew what she had to do. Her grip on her knees loosened and her eyelids reluctantly slid down and her harsh breathing slowed. Then, when she was just on the cusp of deceptably blissful oblivion, those words damnable words echoed in her mind. "Those are some interesting eyes you have..."
So what'd you guys think? Should I continue this story? Sorry it was so short, I'm just seeing if this would be worth my time to continue. Anyway, be sure to RnR! :D