Ok, first off… this idea somewhat came into being after a needless banter between Aegri Somnia Vana and I, and so I would like to credit her for corrupting my green brain that was doing so well until it became obsessed with the following plot. (Also a huge thanks for alpha reading my awful scripts and for the helpful advice. TOT)
That being said, the following is an obnoxious mess (haha!) inspired by both the folktales of Peter Pan and Frankenstein set in an alternate MFB universe (which means that there will be no beyblades).
I hope you enjoy it.
Feedback is welcomed.
PS: The prologue might seem vague. I'm sure it will make more sense later on. :D
Chef D'oeuvre
Prologue.
Midnight blue stretched over the horizon, dominating it with a grace that was awe-inspiring. Silence thick and heavy swirled in damp currents in the air, carried by the indolent breeze. Sophie stood at the corner of the seemingly abandoned street, head raised to gaze at the starless sky, blank and monotonous.
Her hands sought to hold herself against the flickering lamppost, the spill of halogen orange on the ground in a perfect circle though unsteady, plunging her surroundings with brightness only to eagerly snatch it away. The wind that lethargically danced around her scantily dressed form managed to chill her to the core, the ragged torn white dress fluttering leisurely with the breeze when she let her head lay lax against the metallic support, body collapsing in a slump as the fatigue of the run finally caught up to her, the high from the adrenaline subsiding.
A vulnerable sigh escaped her, the wave of fear channelled by unfamiliarity washing over her as she tried to bottle her emotions.
Flicker. Light. A bright tawny auburn embraced her curves, highlighting her presence in the empty and dead pathway.
Flicker. Darkness. A serene cover of black hid her under its protective cover, obscuring.
Blink. Her attention is suddenly diverted by the pebbles lying at her feet, unmoving, inanimate.
Blink. Engulfed into a spell of blindness, visited by gloomy black, her eyes feel heavy with every second, every minute bleeding slowly with the unrelenting rhythm.
She hears the rustle. Goosebumps line her skin.
Flicker. Breath hitches. A shadow. Still. Frozen. Olive-green orbs flit up, petrified.
Flicker. Anticipation. Please… no… A frightened scramble backwards, the whimper caught up in her throat.
Her vision is cut off by the lack of light, the sudden stab of dark clawing at her with harsh vindictiveness. Even then her mind projects the upcoming series of events with a clarity that binds her in place, horror etched into her skin.
The emerald orbs shift, uncertainty and fear clouding her vision, mind in a loop repeating one phrase over and over. He is here. He is there. He is here
She can see him, clear as day.
The barely there tilt to his head, a scruffy mess of auburn strands drooping upon one eye, covering the dead cerulean inhabiting his iris. She can picture the sharp angles of his face, the contours crafting his face artfully even though all she sees is a silhouette, blurry, virtual.
She waits. Her heart thuds destructively within her.
She waits, knowing yet intent on trying to believe something she knows is untrue.
She waits, so she deceive her feeble mind into thinking it's a trick, a hallucination.
Flicker. She can't breathe.
He smirks, "This cat and mouse play is tiring, ay love?"