The Quasleand family has had a curse plagued on them for countless centuries. The curse of the Phantom. It was murdered without consent, in a vile, brutal fashion. The Phantom had now just started to haunt the youngest member of the family. Clarissa Quasleand, the descendant of Jerith Quasleand. She can not figure out what is happening to her, she keeps having these strange visions of dark corridors and screams, and that terrible terrible feeling of dread. Can she help her family rid of the curse or in the end bleed into the Phantom's deadly chain?
She could feel it. The cold stone against her paws, the wind whistled past her as she watched the grass roll majestically like waves, keeping totally still. She crouched and put one paw in front of the other, her green eyes flickering back and forth as she watched the small sparrow in front of her. She drew a deep breath, again, feeling the cold wind whistle past her ears. She pricked them and went ridgid, inching even closer. Her claws went in and out of her paws, and she wiggled her bottom that was up in the air excitedly. She got ready to leap when the sound of her owner's soft voice called to her. She sat up and looked around, surveying her landscape, wondering where her owner was calling her from. She got up and mrowed, looking around. Had she just heard nothing? Had the wind played tricks on her? She looked up at the castle that loomed above her, her whiskers twitching. She laid her ears back against her head, hissing slightly. The castle always scared her, no one was ever safe there and she was the only who knew it. She was the only one that could protect her beloved mistress from being hurt. She flickered her gaze to her mistress's window and watched as the small light, the small candle light, flicker, casting shadows in her room. She meowed as loud as she could, looking up. "Grendal keep it down!" Grendal hissed and whipped around to face a large man that was dressed in that ridiculous iron knight's outfit with the long sharp piece of metal and blunt, flat piece of metal that supposedly protected them. This was a guy she hated, Jerith Quasleand. Grendal let out a long, hateful hiss, letting her claws come out. What was he doing out here? Where was Meeriana? Jerith laughed and kneeled down, holding out his hand to her, a piece of turkey from the kitchens in his hand. "Come here Grendal." Grendal edged toward him slowly and stopped dead, the hairs on the back of her neck rising and spreading all the way to her back. That smell..she knew that smell. It was the smell of her mistress's blood, it was easy to distinguish from everyone else's. It was a sickly sweet smell, like most, but it was special to Grendal. It was what flowed through the veins of a person who she would die for. Jerith laughed and held his hand out closer to Grendal, dangling the piece in front of her nose. "Come on stupid. Eat it! Meeriana would want you too." Grendal spat and hissed at him, and took off, her paws thudding softly into the ground, the dark evening sky streaking out above her, as if it was a giant canvas that had been painted by a very talented hand. Grendal continued running, the grass tickling and trying to twist around her paws. She wasn't going to let it happen. Meeriana was in trouble, and she knew it. Jerith had hurt her, she had seen the look in his eyes, she had seen the way he had smiled when he had said Meeriana. She yowled and raced past the guards that were guarding the castle entrance, scraping her paws against the stone. She paid no heed to the king or queen which laughed and had leaned down to pet her. She knew something bad had happened, she knew it, she had to find out! Grendal came to the stairs and stopped, meowing. The sickly sweet smell..it was powerful. Too powerful. She yowled and jumped up the stairs, her stomach churning and her heart twisting. She came to Meeriana's door and jumped up, stretching her front legs up, digging her claws into the wooden door. She let out a loud meow. When the door remained closed she set up meows, not the 'Get up!' meow she had done before, but frantic, meows of utter terror and panic. She yowled louder, hoping a guard would come and yell at her. Or at least a maid, they were always nice when she meowed. She continued until she could hear the heavy pound of foot steps. A horrible smell hit her nose and she turned sideways, to see Jerith standing there, a wicked smile written upon his features. "Want to go in kitty?" Grendal hissed loudly at him, her tail puffed out. She took and step back and squished herself in the corner, her green eyes blazing as she watched Jerith turn the door knob. He pushed it open and motioned inside of it. "Go on. She's waiting." Grendal padded in softly and meowed heart brokenly. She pricked her ears and saw that Meeriana was lying on her bed. She meowed in relief and jumped onto the bed, settling herself on Meeriana's chest. She blinked her bright green eyes and looked at her arm. It had been accidently cut, and she huffed and looked at Jerith. He was only smelling like blood because he had been trying to stop the bleeding. Still..what had been with that grin? Jerith put a hand on the hilt of his sword. "She's all happily asleep with her adorable kitty on her chest. Right where her heart is, eh?" Grendal stared hard at him, her eyes alight with confusion. Jerith drew his sword, and pointed it at them. "Say good night." Grendal's mind snapped and she hissed dementedly, her eyes widening, she began to get up, to leap at him, to get away..but all she saw before her paws could even twitch, before they could even move, a bright light exploded and all was dark. Darkness.
