Title: Shunned
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate
Category: Labyrinth
Rating: Pg13-R
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic'?
Disclaimer- I own nothing.
The night began to set in, and with a heavy heart Constance left her aunt's inviting apartment and flagged down a cab. She had to go home, no matter how much she wished she didn't.
The cab traveled a short distance before stopping in front of a condominium, home. Constance paid her driver and thanked him before carefully grabbing her new book and walking up to the entryway. She stood outside in the cold for several minutes, contemplating what she would face when she entered. Until this year her father had always been out of town with business on her birthday, he was reserved, like herself. She found it hard to read him. She hated going into a situation and not knowing what she up against.
Constance had made a habit out of reading those around her, learning their habits and predicting their next move, it gave her a strange sense of control. If she knew what others were thinking she could relax. Though she very rarely interacted with her peers, she was far to busy with her books and stories. Because of her taste for the written word her peers shied away from her, she was different, and it is in human nature to avoid the new and different.
Taking a deep breath she turned the knob and stepped into her home. Looking around the entrance hall and the living room, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. With a delicate shrug she turned and walked to her room, she quietly shut her door when she entered and turned on the lights.
She quickly sat her book down on her desk, then she began her nightly routine. She walked over to her neat and straight closet and selected a pair of dark blue, silken pajama bottoms and white tank top. She carefully placed them on her bed and then shrugged off her coat and hung it up, she then quickly exchanged her school uniform for the sleep clothes she had laid out.
She lifted her arms above her head and stretched out and with a cat like yawn she sat down at her desk and picked up the book. She read it silently and intently for what must have been hours, the girl in the story seemed so confident, like none of the evil king's riddles or rhymes could get to her.
With a stifled laugh, Constance thought that many of the 'challenges' were similar to the brain teasers she did for fun. Only, in the story there was a much higher price to be paid when you couldn't solve them.
When she heard the grandfather clock in the living room strike one, she reluctantly put the book down. Before she could stand, her door burst open. Curtis stood with an angry scowl across his face as he faced his only child.
He wordlessly advanced upon her position at her desk, trying to meet the cold stare she was giving him. When he was he was all but an inch away from her he leaned down and whispered, "It's your fault. It's always been your fault." he paused to jerk her into a standing position by her arm, "She was such a good woman, kind and beautiful, you don't even look like her."
He violently released her arm and looked about her almost immaculate room, then his eyes fell on the book. "And look at the filth you fill your head with," he accused as he snatched up the book and began to read from it's pages "I wish the King of the Lamia(?) would come and take you away, right now!" he snorted at the ridiculous words as he looked up to meet the angry gaze of his daughter, "What kind of garbage is this?!"
"Obviously it's above your level of understanding." She said coldly, not expecting the angry fist to connect with her left cheek. She staggered back and almost fell, her bitter anger rising, the wind outside howled and the snow began to fall in heavy waves.
The wind blew with such force that the window beside her bed blew open, before father or daughter could react a third party joined them. A man, with wild, gold spun hair, angular features and eyes that seemed to shift color in the light. He was taller than Curtis, who stood at six foot, and the five foot, five inch tall Constance found herself having to look up to meet his gaze.
He looked around the room with a hint of mild interest and allowed his gaze to fall upon Constance, a sneer crossed his face as he starred into her unforgiving eyes. He turned to Curtis and with a mocking bow he sarcastically stated, "Thank you for inviting me."
Well, there's my second chapter! I'd like to thank Redaura() for reviewing!
Author: Raven-Mistress for the Incarnate
Category: Labyrinth
Rating: Pg13-R
Summary: A child, not quite a girl, but still not a woman, is hated by her father and forgotten by the world. What happens when she receives a birthday gift from her aunt, the gift of a small, leather-bound black book, with the words 'Labyrinth of Logic'?
Disclaimer- I own nothing.
The night began to set in, and with a heavy heart Constance left her aunt's inviting apartment and flagged down a cab. She had to go home, no matter how much she wished she didn't.
The cab traveled a short distance before stopping in front of a condominium, home. Constance paid her driver and thanked him before carefully grabbing her new book and walking up to the entryway. She stood outside in the cold for several minutes, contemplating what she would face when she entered. Until this year her father had always been out of town with business on her birthday, he was reserved, like herself. She found it hard to read him. She hated going into a situation and not knowing what she up against.
Constance had made a habit out of reading those around her, learning their habits and predicting their next move, it gave her a strange sense of control. If she knew what others were thinking she could relax. Though she very rarely interacted with her peers, she was far to busy with her books and stories. Because of her taste for the written word her peers shied away from her, she was different, and it is in human nature to avoid the new and different.
Taking a deep breath she turned the knob and stepped into her home. Looking around the entrance hall and the living room, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. With a delicate shrug she turned and walked to her room, she quietly shut her door when she entered and turned on the lights.
She quickly sat her book down on her desk, then she began her nightly routine. She walked over to her neat and straight closet and selected a pair of dark blue, silken pajama bottoms and white tank top. She carefully placed them on her bed and then shrugged off her coat and hung it up, she then quickly exchanged her school uniform for the sleep clothes she had laid out.
She lifted her arms above her head and stretched out and with a cat like yawn she sat down at her desk and picked up the book. She read it silently and intently for what must have been hours, the girl in the story seemed so confident, like none of the evil king's riddles or rhymes could get to her.
With a stifled laugh, Constance thought that many of the 'challenges' were similar to the brain teasers she did for fun. Only, in the story there was a much higher price to be paid when you couldn't solve them.
When she heard the grandfather clock in the living room strike one, she reluctantly put the book down. Before she could stand, her door burst open. Curtis stood with an angry scowl across his face as he faced his only child.
He wordlessly advanced upon her position at her desk, trying to meet the cold stare she was giving him. When he was he was all but an inch away from her he leaned down and whispered, "It's your fault. It's always been your fault." he paused to jerk her into a standing position by her arm, "She was such a good woman, kind and beautiful, you don't even look like her."
He violently released her arm and looked about her almost immaculate room, then his eyes fell on the book. "And look at the filth you fill your head with," he accused as he snatched up the book and began to read from it's pages "I wish the King of the Lamia(?) would come and take you away, right now!" he snorted at the ridiculous words as he looked up to meet the angry gaze of his daughter, "What kind of garbage is this?!"
"Obviously it's above your level of understanding." She said coldly, not expecting the angry fist to connect with her left cheek. She staggered back and almost fell, her bitter anger rising, the wind outside howled and the snow began to fall in heavy waves.
The wind blew with such force that the window beside her bed blew open, before father or daughter could react a third party joined them. A man, with wild, gold spun hair, angular features and eyes that seemed to shift color in the light. He was taller than Curtis, who stood at six foot, and the five foot, five inch tall Constance found herself having to look up to meet his gaze.
He looked around the room with a hint of mild interest and allowed his gaze to fall upon Constance, a sneer crossed his face as he starred into her unforgiving eyes. He turned to Curtis and with a mocking bow he sarcastically stated, "Thank you for inviting me."
Well, there's my second chapter! I'd like to thank Redaura() for reviewing!