10 years later
Clary woke up suddenly, from a nightmare she couldn't remember. Scrubbing her long wild red hair away from her face, she looked at her surroundings. The room that had been hers for the past several years continued to be dull, dark and dreary. Broken frames of artwork hung on the crumbling walls, a candle in the corner of the room on a wooden unit that was falling apart. Clary's bed was located in the corner of the room, a simple white blanket thrown over it. In the opposite corner was a cracked mirror, which Clary couldn't bear to look at. Seeing herself in this terrible place after so long drove her insane. The sun had not graced her flesh in almost a decade, leaving her with very light porcelain skin. Her eyes were still the same though, as bright as emeralds.
Sitting up from bed, Clary lifted the blanket off her thin and pale form, letting her toes dangle over the rotting floorboards. Her nightwear consisted of a simple black loose tank top, which barely grazed her lower thighs. Sighing, she pushed herself off her bed and walked to the door, knowing what would be waiting for her on the other side. She opened the door and looked down, seeing the familiar silver tray that was always outside her room in the mornings. Breakfast. Lifting off the lid, she was presented with buttered toast, a cup of strawberries, and a glass of orange juice. Enough to keep her going until lunch. Sitting down crossed legged on the floor, Clary slowly munched away at her food, wanting to make the most of it, since she didn't know the set time for when her lunch arrived. She saw something move out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked up, it was already gone. She sighed in agitation. Missed him again.
Ever since she had first been trapped here, Clary knew she wasn't alone. When she had sat down in that corner and weeped, she could feel something or someone watching her. The gaze had not felt comforting, but it had not felt threatening either. She merely felt as if she was being observed. She remembers making her way up the staircase, looking for somewhere she could lie down. After making her way through three flights of stairs, she had come to the attic, where she found a note pinned to the door.
'This is your room'.
Clary could never find the person who kept her here, only seeing glimpses of him, walking round a corner, going through a door. He almost seemed like a phantom to her, always disappearing whenever she looked for him. At first she had been afraid of him, always scared that he would do something to hurt her. But he never revealed himself to her, only leaving meals out for her, leading her to rooms where she could be entertained, sometimes leaving notes for her. She both hated him, and loved him. She hated him for trapping her here, for never revealing himself to her, for making her feel like she was insane. But she loved him because he was the only other person in this house with her. He looked after her, made sure she was well fed and clean, never hurt her, and sometimes, just as Clary was drifting off to sleep, she could feel his fingers in her hair, stroking her curls with care.
All she could think about day after day was finding him, hunting him down to either kill him or... she didn't know what she would do when she found him. But for now, she spent her every waking moment tracking him down. Finishing off her breakfast, Clary pushed the tray away, ripped off a piece of paper from the notepad by her door, and scribbled a thank you on it, putting the note on the tray and closing the door. She hoped that by being polite to him, she could coax him out of his hiding place.
Walking over to her dresser, Clary opened up one of the draws and pulled out a set of clean black underwear. She had no idea where he'd gotten these from. Then she opened up another drawer and pulled out a simple white dress that went to just above her knee. Throwing her clothes on the bed, Clary began to undress, pulling off her top and throwing it to the ground. That's when she felt his eyes on her. She began doing this when she became thirteen, after her body began to develop and she found out she had...needs. Many times she had made herself come, knowing full well he was watching her. Part of her hoped that he would reveal himself, if only to quench her sexual desires that she herself just couldn't completely do. Bending down so her behind was facing the door, Clary picked up her underwear and slid it on slowly, taking secret delight in taunting her unseen captor. Once her bra and pants were on, she chucked on her dress, brushed out her curls with a hairbrush that was underneath her bed, and walked out the door. She looked down at the ground, noticing the tray was gone, and in its place was a scrap of paper which read, 'You're welcome.' Taking a deep breath, Clary walked downstairs, preparing herself for a long day of chasing a shadow that didn't want to be caught.
