The Crow: Forgotten Angels
-Grace's Story-
Author's Note: Twis the holiday seasons. Don't think I still did a disclaimer, but again, sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.
Part I: Scene 6
John brought Grace into a room with an open, steel-cage like structure. No one else could be seen. John told Grace to wait while he found and spoke to Roland. So she did, looking around the room to amuse herself.
"Who are you?" Grace jumped, startled, and turned to look at who was talking to her. A woman draped in a blue and purple gown glared back at Grace from under her veil, or so Grace thought. "Why are you here?" her soft voice questioned again as she took a step back from Grace, almost as if cowering.
"Grace!" It was John's voice. Grace turned to see him walk from behind a curtain. "Come on, Roland wants to see you." Grace turned back to excuse herself from the stranger, but the woman was no longer there. Nervously, she walked to where John stood and followed him to Roland. "Just answer his questions, you'll be fine," and with that John shoved Grace alone into the room with Roland. But she wasn't alone.
Roland sat on a couch, women on both sides of him. The closest ran their hands along his body, others whispered in his ear or purred softly. He looked a well-built man, tall and rough. The figures of his face were long and sharp, accented by his long brown hair. Roland sat clad in a leather trench coat accompanied by leather pants, and nothing else. His mouth was twisted in a smile and his eyes appeared to draw any light that shone on them.
Grace straightened under Roland's stare, lifting her chin and rolling back her shoulders. Now, all sets of eyes were on her, searching, analyzing, grading. The pit of her stomach tightened, nausea washing over her body. Dissection. They were cutting her apart with their eyes, with their silence. Roland scratched his chin in thought, tilting his head to one side as if it would give him a better view.
"How old are you, again?" He asked, his voice deep and thick, with some kind of European accent that Grace could not identify.
"Sixteen, seventeen soon, though." Grace answered in her quiet voice, trying not to stare at his eyes, but yet not wanting to give in and look at the floor. Her hands found each other behind her back and nervously her fingers began to twine. Why was she here? She wasn't what they wanted her to be. Not this rat, not this pile of bones.
"Do you have any experience in this… field?" Grace's face began to heat as she remembered she hadn't, she didn't what she was doing. "Hm…" Roland rose from his sit, causing some of the woman to whimper, and walked a slow circle around Grace, looking up and then down, trying not to miss any detail. "It's a challenge, wouldn't you say?" He asked towards the women to the couch, who whispered and giggled, only causing Grace to blush even deeper.
"You always liked challenges, Master," a woman from the couch purred, swinging back her long black hair over her bare shoulder as she grinned at Grace. Her eyes were piercing, almost laughing at her. Roland wanted woman like her, not clueless little girls. "But I didn't know you believed in miracles." The women all laughed at the joke, while internally Grace was killing what little self-esteem she had left.
"Hush!" Immediately, all the women fell silent at the harsh tint in their master's Voice, some even cowering behind the women with the long black hair. "Poor child," Roland returned his attention to Grace, his voice quiet so the others wouldn't hear. "Life is wicked, twisted. Know this, and forget all you ever knew. You need no sense of shame to do what you are asking from me…" He stepped in closer to her and trailed the blush across her face with his deep eyes. "The shier they are, the louder they become," he whispered in Grace's ear before turning back towards the couch, "Joanna."
"Yes, Master?" The black hair women asked, a fierce look in her features.
"I want you to take Grace under your wing. Show her around, teach her." Joanna grunted a 'yes, Master' and frowned at Grace. "Now," Roland shouted, causing the woman to jump from the couch and bow before dragging Grace off by the arm.
-Grace's Story-
Author's Note: Twis the holiday seasons. Don't think I still did a disclaimer, but again, sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.
Part I: Scene 6
John brought Grace into a room with an open, steel-cage like structure. No one else could be seen. John told Grace to wait while he found and spoke to Roland. So she did, looking around the room to amuse herself.
"Who are you?" Grace jumped, startled, and turned to look at who was talking to her. A woman draped in a blue and purple gown glared back at Grace from under her veil, or so Grace thought. "Why are you here?" her soft voice questioned again as she took a step back from Grace, almost as if cowering.
"Grace!" It was John's voice. Grace turned to see him walk from behind a curtain. "Come on, Roland wants to see you." Grace turned back to excuse herself from the stranger, but the woman was no longer there. Nervously, she walked to where John stood and followed him to Roland. "Just answer his questions, you'll be fine," and with that John shoved Grace alone into the room with Roland. But she wasn't alone.
Roland sat on a couch, women on both sides of him. The closest ran their hands along his body, others whispered in his ear or purred softly. He looked a well-built man, tall and rough. The figures of his face were long and sharp, accented by his long brown hair. Roland sat clad in a leather trench coat accompanied by leather pants, and nothing else. His mouth was twisted in a smile and his eyes appeared to draw any light that shone on them.
Grace straightened under Roland's stare, lifting her chin and rolling back her shoulders. Now, all sets of eyes were on her, searching, analyzing, grading. The pit of her stomach tightened, nausea washing over her body. Dissection. They were cutting her apart with their eyes, with their silence. Roland scratched his chin in thought, tilting his head to one side as if it would give him a better view.
"How old are you, again?" He asked, his voice deep and thick, with some kind of European accent that Grace could not identify.
"Sixteen, seventeen soon, though." Grace answered in her quiet voice, trying not to stare at his eyes, but yet not wanting to give in and look at the floor. Her hands found each other behind her back and nervously her fingers began to twine. Why was she here? She wasn't what they wanted her to be. Not this rat, not this pile of bones.
"Do you have any experience in this… field?" Grace's face began to heat as she remembered she hadn't, she didn't what she was doing. "Hm…" Roland rose from his sit, causing some of the woman to whimper, and walked a slow circle around Grace, looking up and then down, trying not to miss any detail. "It's a challenge, wouldn't you say?" He asked towards the women to the couch, who whispered and giggled, only causing Grace to blush even deeper.
"You always liked challenges, Master," a woman from the couch purred, swinging back her long black hair over her bare shoulder as she grinned at Grace. Her eyes were piercing, almost laughing at her. Roland wanted woman like her, not clueless little girls. "But I didn't know you believed in miracles." The women all laughed at the joke, while internally Grace was killing what little self-esteem she had left.
"Hush!" Immediately, all the women fell silent at the harsh tint in their master's Voice, some even cowering behind the women with the long black hair. "Poor child," Roland returned his attention to Grace, his voice quiet so the others wouldn't hear. "Life is wicked, twisted. Know this, and forget all you ever knew. You need no sense of shame to do what you are asking from me…" He stepped in closer to her and trailed the blush across her face with his deep eyes. "The shier they are, the louder they become," he whispered in Grace's ear before turning back towards the couch, "Joanna."
"Yes, Master?" The black hair women asked, a fierce look in her features.
"I want you to take Grace under your wing. Show her around, teach her." Joanna grunted a 'yes, Master' and frowned at Grace. "Now," Roland shouted, causing the woman to jump from the couch and bow before dragging Grace off by the arm.