The Rosy Veil
It was just another day. The sun was shining, and life was glowing. It was cheerful smiles at every turn. It was the kind of infectious happiness that filled everyone with joy. That is, everyone but Martha's latest visitor.
From her room, she glares out through barely parted curtains. Her eyes are icy and uncaring for the happiness exuded everywhere, and by everyone. Just a moment before the curtains fall closed, her expression contorts. It expresses hatred and rage. It isn't the expression of someone that can be trusted, or be in such a trusting place with trusting, caring people. It's the expression of forthcoming shattered dreams, and broken hopes.
In the dark room, she makes her way towards a drawer. She pulls it open softly, and scoops something up into her palm. She pushes the drawer closed with her knee and lifts her hand closer. The glass catches in a rare glimmer of light, revealing the two people inside the photo frame. One of them is the girl with the picture in her hand, and the other is Selene.
As she moves the frame onto the side table, more light catches on the frame. A large crack spreads between the two girls. The damage is mostly confined to Selene's side of the picture. At the picture's new angle on the side table, it's clear that the cracks have covered Selene entirely. Her companion though, remains perfectly visible, and her smile rings clearly in the dark room.
ð
"Are you alright?" Martha asks, concerned.
"Don't worry," the visitor insists, smiling politely. "I'm fine, and you have better uses for your time than worrying about me."
"It's hard not to worry," Martha replies, sympathetic. "You looked so lost and scared…"
"Is something wrong?" the visitor enquires, curiously.
"You reminded me of someone else we helped," Martha says, her voice gentle and somewhat distant.
"Is that person alright?" the visitor says eager to know more.
Martha laughs kindly. "Now, why are you so interested? My tales of travellers aren't that interesting,"
"I was just curious," she replies innocently.
Martha sighs. "She's in a better place now,"
She smiles, accepting the end of the conversation and the answer. She moves away from the kitchen counter and towards the dining room. As she enters the next room, an empty room, her expression changes. Her features contort from polite pleasantness to distaste and displeasure. Her hands curl into claws.
The change is drastic and sudden, and nothing is left as it had been before. Even her stride differs. Every step is now more purposeful and poised. She exudes a poisonous aura and undisguised confidence. Her eyes become full of contempt as thoughts of a system of hierarchy takes over in her mind.
As she opens the door to the dining room it becomes clear that the room is empty. She smirks, lowering her head, and hiding her malice filled eyes. The door closes softly behind her, and she walks with even more confidence than before.
Her fingers trail along the soft wooden surface of the oak table. She walks with purpose, but with no destination in mind. She simply begins to circle the table, always keeping one hand on the surface. Now that she knows she's truly alone an even darker side to her personality emerges.
She smirks, too confident and darkly pleased for any good to come of it. "Ah, Selene, can you not hear me from where you are? Do you not understand my voice? Tell me, what has become of you, dear friend…"
She's entirely correct. As she calls out to the empty room, her voice has taken on an undertone. This undercurrent is filled with hypnotism and mysticism. It seems to travel beyond what the ears hear, and beyond where the eyes see.
"Have you no decency, dear friend?" she pouts, but it's clearly an act. "Could you not even remove yourself from this pitiful excuse of a world to see me? Could you not pry yourself away from these people to see me? Have I fallen from your list of people to whom you care for? If that is true, then you realise you have a penalty to pay. Not even existing as a ghost will save you now, dear friend."
She laughs, and the sound taints all that it falls upon. Her lips crawl back from her teeth in a chilling smile. Such a darkness fills her eyes that, perhaps, even demons would flee from her presence.
"Oh, dear friend," she purrs. "You would not believe how much I want my payment… You know how much you owe me, and I expect it soon. You do remember our vow, don't you? Not even death can pry our arrangement apart."
Author's Note: Hello, I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot. It reeks of expectations and wonders. So, yes, I hope you still await Night of Ever, or this will simply make no sense. However, if that is what pleases you, then feel free to leave it as it is.