A/N: Greetings
OFT! This writer's block kills and the same applies to uni work *facepalm* or lack there is of! GRRR
Have a unit to work on but its soul destroying and this was suppose to be a 'quick' break. Oh well! I shouldn't complain...
Okay, massive apologizes on this quite bizarre fic...once again, I'm attempting something fairly new so do bear with me. Would love to read/see peoples thoughts of this fic. Shattered pieces has sadly hit the wall (again) although I do have two chapters ready but need a massive overhaul/infamous moi re-write. Caging the Bird and another multi-chapter fics are completely on breaks expect for the odd and weird one-shots but my main priority is uni and of course Shattered Pieces and long awaited Finale *dun dun dunnnn*
Once, again...poor student and own nothing. BOO!
The odd spelling/grammar mistake will somehow get in there but try to keep them minimal so apologizes in advance for that. Not being listening to my ever-faithful muse the 'Black Swan' soundtrack but was influenced by vodka (hey, I'm a student and its a muse so I'm allowed) and various other bits and pieces thanks to YT!
Massive thanks to Chrissmusa for the ping pong from god knows how long ago when I was seriously gonna delete this chapter or break the laptop...one of the two at least.
Emmm! Don't think I've got anything else to rant/rave about so enjoy...Remember to read & review ;)
Chapter Two: The Omen
Constance carried the wicker basket in the crook of her slender arm as she picked her way through the long grass, to acquire the last ingredient on her mentally prepared list.
The basket was practically filled with fresh ingredients that would ensure that her already dwindling stock and supplies would keep her classes steadily through the term until the next scheduled school holidays, still months away. Constance had anticipated her students and purposely collected slightly more ingredients than she usually required. A nameless student would more than certainly cause an accident of some description but at least she would be prepared.
The sun was at its highest peek, alone in the pale blue sky. Mother Nature was alive, basking in the sunshine, knowing that the colder season of autumn was just around the corner and took every opportunity to be free in the light, the gift of life.
The sound of gently splashing water from the lazy river grew louder providing a therapeutic and soothing sound to her ears. She allowed herself to close her eyes and inhaled deeply, her senses assaulted by her surroundings. The silence overwhelmed her, no disobedient students plotting and scheming or colleagues mindlessly bickering, for a blissful moment the only sounds were her relaxed breathing and the sounds of nature.
The grass rustled as the wind danced, entwined around the long blades while insects madly skittered between colourful flowers and the harmonious sound of the birds that sang sweetly to each other which reminded Constance of a music box that she once possessed.
As if snapping to attention, she shook her head disapprovingly. Time was limited and valuable, she had wasted precious moments foolishly daydreaming which was something is commonly punished her students while in her class. Her attention quickly refocused to the important task and the last ingredient on her list.
She was in search of the elusive 'Fairy Moss' herb that grew solely near or in water but was such a delicate plant that sometimes nature, itself would inadvertently cut the plants life prematurely short. Her eyes carefully investigated the river.
Azola Filiculoides commonly known as 'Fairy Moss' was usually found delicately floating on the surface of water and was one of those herbs that Constance did not usually keep within her classroom in the impressive stock cupboard but the Fairy Moss was one of those rare items that only required a small amount to work wonders on potions and already Constance had her teaching plan in place now all she required was the herb.
The basket rested precariously on a misshaped rock, protruding from the edge of the river bank. Constance gracefully lowered herself into a comfortable sitting position and began to select the freshest buds from the plant. A smile of accomplishment filled through her concentrating features, success had its rewards.
Once again, her mind drifted to the mentally prepared list. She was busying collecting the last ingredient of her list and thoughts now turned to efficiently and effectively utilising the remained of her time. Obsessively she prioritised the duties that required her attention once returning to the safety of the school grounds, behind the high walls where it was truly secure and free from any inquisitive eyes of strangers.
Her hand abruptly stopped short of the plant, her attention instantly interrupted. Her eyes narrowed, instantly drawn to an aged figure opposite the river that seemed completely unaware of another presence at the river. Constance intently watched, almost curious but ready to react for any potently signs of danger, always suspicious of strangers regardless to how innocent or powerless this older woman looked, appearances were always deceptive.
The lone woman sat hunched over her faithful old washboard, her shaking hands clutched onto a piece of clothing and began the agonising task of washing the stained material in the river.
Constance continued to watch, her senses at the ready, attention to detect any changes and held her casting fingers, in anticipation.
Her grey wild hair covered a majority of face, unable to read her expression or eyes. Her head bowed down in deep concentration. Her hands looked aggressively red and painfully sore with the constant task of manually washing the massive basket of stained clothing. Constance swallowed back the pity, a part of her wanting to be able to help but she knew she never could.
A cool breeze caused the frail figure to shiver and instantly a wave of goosebumps appeared over her exposed arms, highlighting a lifetime of hardship that marked her painfully thin arms.
Angry eyes slowly blinked, adapting to the bright light associated with daylight having been used to the darkness of night preferring to remain a nocturnal creature of habit. The pain resurfaced, knocking down all logical thoughts from mind and now a primal force was in control, fighting through the agonising, burning sensation that grew increasing worse with each heartbeat.
The assassin carefully picked a route, meticulous about the surroundings; eyes remained focused on the distracted figure, slowly closing the gap.
Inhaling deeply, nostrils flared as the sweet intoxicating aroma of Constance' scent was carried on the light breeze. Her powerful aura emanating from her. Deliriously hypnotic, it beckoned. The scent teased and aggravated the ravenous, insatiable appetite that refused to be silenced.
Nothing else mattered. The hunger was too much. The need to have her overwhelmed and overloaded everything.
Constance felt her eyes widen with mixed feelings of shock and surprise although it took a lot to shock the normally unfazeable teacher but the sight of the clear water now darkened, contaminated. Her nose wrinkled at the unmistakable smell of old blood.
The old woman sighed and shook head. Her bones creaked in protest as she broke from her hunched position. Her rough callous hands tightly clutched the soaking material and brought the still stained material close to her chest. Suddenly, her head snapped upwards and continued to hold the gaze of the exposed stranger that had been stalking her.
Constance readied her casting hand, unable to break eye contact. There was something, intuition and oddly familiar that whispered in her mind that this old woman posed no harm. Both women stared intently at each other. Cold grey eyes and soft brown eyes locked together with a river parting them.
There was something about the older woman, her eyes. Constance raised an eyebrow as she instantly noted that the grey eyes reflecting back were almost vacant but the expression of her features clashed, did the old woman show pity, sadness? Or perhaps openly mocked her?
The woman knew what would happen now, it was as fate dictated. She had witnessed the similar scenario and in each time, was unable to prevent what would happen now she had completely surrendered to being an observe, observing their deaths.