GLASS AND ROSES
Chapter One: Davy Jones
Nightfall.
One lone figure stood at the landing of the staircase. She was watching, waiting. Waiting… for what? She didn't know.
She was within arms reach of a headless cupid; one of the little pudgy angels reaching up and holding a great wooden ball at the end of the railings on the landings of the stairs. Vines curved and curled up the pole the cupid was attached to. It just so happened that the headless cupid was her favorite one. She always sat on this particular landing in the middle of the staircase, watching, waiting. The winds outside rustled the leaves on the trees, and the leaves and branches swayed, scratching at the window like a cat begging to be let in.
She stared down at the smooth table, where a small music box sat in the moonlight. She stared at that music box, not knowing why.
The clock struck twelve, and she whispered, "Good morning, my dear." as though there were another there telling her that. She wrapped her arms around herself and turned to leave, when the voice came.
"Hello, darling."
She froze in fear, then whipped around, one fist raised to fight. The room was empty. She let her arms drop to her sides as her gray eyes darted about. Nobody. Nothing. No voices, no people.
She shrugged and slowly began ascending the stairs. She froze and nearly tripped when the small music box began to play. It started off with the kreeee of rusted gears working again. She turned and gaped at the music box. It had been found at sea while her father was sailing, and it was water-logged and looked as though it couldn't play. But there it sat, playing an eerily sad tune.
She continued to stare for a little while longer, before she felt a great rumble, causing her to fall and hit the floor hard. Luckily, she had the railing beside her. She used it for support.
"Run! Run!" the winds whispered. "Run, run!"
She didn't wait for anything anymore. As the music continued to play a little faster, she turned and ran up the stairs as well as she could for being in a dress.
Suddenly, booming organ music replaced the once soft music box's tune. She cried out and tripped, the sharp edge of a stair cutting into her cheek. A hand flew up to her face to staunch the blood.
"Hello, darling." The voice said. But it wasn't in her mind this time. Oh, no. This time, it was real. Lord, it was real.
She turned to face Davy Jones. The moment she did so, his hand shot out and clamped around her mouth, tentacles wrapping around her. She tried to scream. Couldn't. She tried to pry away the hand that held her, and again couldn't.
Jones laughed, and the sound made her marrow freeze. Behind him, she could see everything starting to spin. The lack of air from her mouth and nose being covered caused everything to go black.
She passed out in Davy Jones' grip, only hearing the cruel laugh before her hearing, too, faded.