Genre: Drama, Crime, Romance, Family, Humor
Rating: M for sexual situations and language
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters featured on the show Castle, they belong to the creator of the show, ABC, and the others who do own them.
A/N #1: Since this prologue is so short I'll be posting the next chapter in about three hours. So if anyone wants to read it look out for it then!
A/N #2: The title of this story is a lyric from the song Dear Boy by Paul and Linda McCartney, from their album Ram. The title of this chapter is a lyric from the song Cupid by Sam Cooke.
Let Your Arrow Fly
Opening his eyes the man looked around himself, not recognizing where he was but able to tell that he was tied up. He then realized he wasn't alone and glanced over, seeing the person next to him was his wife. There was some relief in that before he said, "You're tied up too," as she was opening her eyes and looking at him.
"I… what happened," the woman said, groaning and trying to sit up. She gasped as her wrist came free of the restraint it was in and she looked at her husband and said, "What are you wearing?"
"I… don't know," the man replied, pulling his own hand free. "What are you wearing?" he asked her in shock as he saw that her breasts were exposed by what looked to be a nightgown embroidered with a gold line down the middle.
"Why do we look like we're from Ancient Egypt?" the woman said, crossing her arms around herself. "What do you remember from last night?"
"Just going to that house," the man said, shaking his head as he freed her other wrist and then took care of his own. "But that doesn't matter now; we can tell the police when we get out of here."
"Are you sure we can?" the woman asked as they got off the bed, nearly stumbling at the same time as they were both dizzy.
"We can," the man replied determinedly. "Whoever did this was trying to rape us… are you okay?"
"Yes I don't feel anything," the woman replied. She held his arm tightly as he went to the bedroom door and she glanced back behind them before she shuddered. "They even dressed up the room," she whispered to her husband.
"I know we'll… worry about that later," the man said as the door was easily opening up in his hand. They left the bedroom and he was startled to find the condition of the rest of the house was far worse than what they'd left and he started to get a sinking feeling in his stomach at that discovery. But he pressed on and he was relieved when they reached the door to the front though that was rapidly lost when he saw they were in the middle of nowhere, snow nearly blinding them after the dimness of the house.
"There's not even a road," the woman moaned in her terror. "Just those tracks," she said, pointing to them in the white blanket that coated the ground.
"Then we follow it," the man told her. "The least we can get to is a road, if that's where the son of a bitch who kidnapped us brought us." He and his wife started to walk though he was cold in nothing but a heavy piece of flat gold that covered his bare chest and what he thought was a thin, white kilt. He kept going before he suddenly heard a muffled thud a second before his wife began to scream. "Oh god!" he yelled as he turned to find her with an arrow sticking straight out of her chest. He caught her as she started to fall, blood coming out of her mouth, and he then looked around them as he knew they weren't safe.
The flash of the dim sunlight on glass had him turning and fleeing, which was difficult because of his wife and the snow. But he made it a good twenty feet before he felt the explosion of pain blossoming in his chest and he collapsed to the ground. Breathing wetly as he tried to push himself up he was only able to collapse over his wife's body because of the arrow in his chest. Everything seemed to spin and grow dark but soon he was on his back, looking up at the dreary sky above as a figure blocked his view.
The sound of snow being packed together made the couple turn their heads though it took the last energy they had to do so. The figure was building something next to them before its head turned to them and strode over above them again.
No, the man thought and mouthed as he raised his hand to the gun that suddenly appeared in the person's hand. But there was to be no mercy as first his wife was shot, her body still next to him, and then himself, his last thoughts of how cold she must be before everything descended into darkness.
The killer began to build again as the smile on their lips was concealed by the mask over their face while they set everything up the way it needed to be; not feeling the cold themselves in their morbid task.