Hunted By The Shadows
Chapter 2
The young woman watched her reflection in the mirror as the brush made its way through her hair. She put the brush down on her beside table with a slow sigh as she studied herself in the mirror. She reached a hand up to adjust the strap of her wine red dress that made its way freely down her body and trailed down to the floor.
She looked back at herself in the reflection of the mirror, studying every feature of her face. She raised her arm to the cool metal dangling from her necklace. She felt the smooth texture between her fingers. A lump formed in her throat and she tried her hardest not to cry. Twelve years it had been since the accident. How could twelve years feel like yesterday and a lifetime away at the same time?
She felt the warm liquid run down her face as her eyes locked with another pair of eyes. Although it wasn't as clear now, the picture still meant a lot to her. She didn't care about the tattered edges. Nothing was ever perfect anyway.
The sound of a knock at the door distracted her of her thoughts. She quickly wiped away the tears that had escaped from the corners of her eye. She heard heavy footsteps make their way through the room and her eyes narrowed slightly. She didn't have to turn around. She already knew who it was. His deep rhythmic breathing was the only sound in the room.
He stood there for a moment, not sure how he should react as he knew that this was a hard thing to ask of his daughter. He just thought it would be a nice thing to do. To show that he still hadn't forgotten his deceased wife. How it had seemed a lot longer than twelve years, sometimes he couldn't help but wonder what his life would be like if she was still here. Maybe things would have been better with his daughter. He ran a hand through his hair trying to dismiss the thoughts running through his mind and concentrated on whom he had left of his family.
He saw her standing there in the mirror. Looking beautiful. She was the image of her mother. Yet today he could see a loneliness in her eyes. The same loneliness he felt today.
"They're ready for you now" he said calmly. "You can come when you're ready" He looked at her for a moment, and then turned to walk out of her dressing room. He stopped before he closed her door. "Good luck for tonight, Rinoa"
As she heard the door of her dressing room close she looked over her shoulder to where he had been standing a few moments a go. He had been trying these past few years, but some things didn't disappear as quickly as others. He had gone and now she was alone once again in her room. A nauseous feeling come over her. At first when he had asked her to play the piano at the hotel where her mother used to work, she had strongly disagreed with it. Then she saw how much effort people had put into seeing her play, to show respect for her mother. She would play tonight, for her mother. Twelve years ago today her mother had died.
Avoiding the upsetting memories she moved to the bedside table and picked up the music sheets. Slowly she stepped towards her door taking in a deep breath. She knew she could do this. She grabbed the door handle and walked out of the room, and followed the same path her father would have gone.
She stood at the top of the spiral stairs, pausing for a moment to catch a breath before she descended to where everyone waited. Waiting for her to play her mother's song, to remember her twelve years later. She straightened her dress and slowly walked down, her heels clicking on the ground as she walked. She made her way down onto the stage, avoiding any eye contact with the people watching her. She was nervous enough without looking at how many people were there.
She sat down by the piano and studied her music sheets. Inhaling a deep breath she placed her hands on the keys and began to play, her delicate fingers dancing over the ivory keys. As she played she couldn't help but think back to her mother. How could she not? It was her mother's music, the song which had made her famous, she was playing and everything in the hotel reminded her of what hurt her the most. She seemed to get into a trance and could no longer hear the music she was playing. She saw her hands moving, but no sounds were coming from the piano. From the corner of her eye she saw the audience looking. She felt confused. Their body language seemed to show that they could hear the music, yet she couldn't. She looked back down to her hands. She was stood on grass.
Confusion took over her senses and she looked around her in panic. She saw a church and all around her were gravestones. Just in front of her a crowd stood wearing black. She could hear some of the people crying as the priest held the ceremony. She couldn't help but feel like she had been here before. The crowd looked familiar. The priest looked familiar.
She took a few slow steps forward. She was still confused. How could she be here? One minute she was playing the piano, and now here...? A thought came to her mind as she came closer to the funeral but she quickly dismissed the thought. It wasn't possible. Through the crowds of people she could see the stone grave. The letters imprinted on the grave were becoming clearer now as she approached it. She was sure her eyes were deceiving her; there was no explanation to how this could happen. It was all a bad dream. She closed her eyes. She didn't dare open them again. She should be playing the piano now. Slowly she opened her eyes to find herself still staring at the gravestone. With the name Julia Heartilly engraved in it.
"How?" she couldn't help but gasp as she saw it. Another wave of confusion mixed with fear filled her senses as she looked at the people concentrating on the funeral. It seemed as though they hadn't heard her speak as none of them seemed to pay attention to her. She knew those people. They were all there at her mother's funeral. Her ears pricked up at the sound of a young girl crying. She looked down and stepped back in fear. This really had to be a dream.
Crouched down on the floor was a man. The man looked familiar. It was her father, looking a bit younger, as he cradled a young girl in his arms. The girl had long black hair and clung onto Rinoa's father tightly as she watched the funeral. Rinoa felt like running away when she saw herself as a child. How could this be possible? If she ran away, where would she run? So instead, she stood. She stood transfixed by what she saw in front of her. She felt like she was frozen in time as she watched the funeral take place. She studied every person there; some people she hadn't noticed were present before when she was a child. She felt she had to look at something, anything but watch the coffin or the gravestone.
She felt a cool breeze rush past her skin, which made the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. She shivered with the new cold sensation that had come over her body. Wrapping her arms around her while her teeth chattered. She wondered how she could be here, as she looked down to notice that she was wearing the same dress she was wearing when she was playing the piano. She was distracted from her thoughts when she felt something brush past her. She turned to her right to see someone wearing black. She couldn't tell who they were due to the hood over their head, shadowing their face. She was sure no one had come to the funeral late when she was a child. Then again, she didn't really take much notice to whether people had come or not.
Rinoa turned her head towards the person once more as she saw them move. He took a few steps closer, leaning over the empty grave. He stood for a moment looking at the hole and then turned to face Rinoa. How could he see her when no one else could?
The man lifted his right arm over to his left side and reaching under her coat pulled out an object. She couldn't help but stare and wonder what he was doing. The mans hand pulled out what looked like to be some sort of sword, she couldn't tell. He smiled at the blade. Yes, this was what it was all about.
Another sense of fear took over Rinoa's body as she saw him turn his body to face her. The man's eyes flashed evilly. This was the moment he waited for. The pain, the fear, it was what he needed to see. Yes, it felt good. She saw him draw his armed hand back and then quickly strike it in her direction. She screamed as soon as she saw his hand move into her and shut her eyes.
She felt a sharp pain plunge into her stomach. Her eyes shot open at the pain. She looked down to see blood pouring from her body and stain the white night gown. She looked up to see the same man as before but couldn't help but notice the surroundings around her had changed again. She now stood in a dimly lit house. She guessed it might have been late at night. She studied her surroundings. This time she didn't know where she was. Her hands were stained in crimson.
So much blood. It just seemed to pour out of her. Her hands were shaking and she felt weak. Her knees gave way and she crashed to the floor. Alone. Was this what it was like to die? Her eyes felt heavy and she struggled to keep them open. As he vision blurred she saw a door opened and she saw a small boy run towards her. He screamed out but she couldn't hear him. A hand grabbed the boy and spun him away. Maybe she was wrong in thinking that she was alone. The same man from before stood barely visible in the shadows. The small boy twisted from the man's grip and ran to help her. The man quickly launched after him and once again grabbed him. This time he raised the blade and sliced it across his face. She saw blood pouring from his face and heard his scream. Poor boy. Her eyes slowly shut and everything turned to darkness.
It was peaceful. So quiet and dark. Maybe dying wasn't so bad after all. A sound of mumbling filled her senses. Who was talking? She felt her hands touching something. Slowly she opened her eyes to see her fingers on piano keys. She looked down to her stomach to see her wine red dress. Her breathing quickened. She was back. She wasn't dead. The voices caught her attention again. Rinoa turned her head to see the audience she was playing to looking at her with worried faces. She was still confused. What had just happened?
She felt the hot tears burn up in her eyes and did what she had wanted to do when she had been in the graveyard a few moments ago. She ran. She could feel everyone's eyes staring at her as she ran up the stairs but she didn't care. She just wanted to get away. She felt herself bump into someone and muffled a quiet apology. She lifted her eyes to be greeted with a pair of ice blue eyes and couldn't help but notice a scar across their face. She stood still staring at him for a moment; she couldn't help thinking that she'd seen him before. Then once again she ran.
Authors note: Just a little note to say we're really sorry for not updating any sooner! It was just really difficult thinking of the storyline for this story. We kind of know where we're going with this story now so hopefully it'll be updated quicker next time. Please leave a review! Thanks.
Chapter 2
The young woman watched her reflection in the mirror as the brush made its way through her hair. She put the brush down on her beside table with a slow sigh as she studied herself in the mirror. She reached a hand up to adjust the strap of her wine red dress that made its way freely down her body and trailed down to the floor.
She looked back at herself in the reflection of the mirror, studying every feature of her face. She raised her arm to the cool metal dangling from her necklace. She felt the smooth texture between her fingers. A lump formed in her throat and she tried her hardest not to cry. Twelve years it had been since the accident. How could twelve years feel like yesterday and a lifetime away at the same time?
She felt the warm liquid run down her face as her eyes locked with another pair of eyes. Although it wasn't as clear now, the picture still meant a lot to her. She didn't care about the tattered edges. Nothing was ever perfect anyway.
The sound of a knock at the door distracted her of her thoughts. She quickly wiped away the tears that had escaped from the corners of her eye. She heard heavy footsteps make their way through the room and her eyes narrowed slightly. She didn't have to turn around. She already knew who it was. His deep rhythmic breathing was the only sound in the room.
He stood there for a moment, not sure how he should react as he knew that this was a hard thing to ask of his daughter. He just thought it would be a nice thing to do. To show that he still hadn't forgotten his deceased wife. How it had seemed a lot longer than twelve years, sometimes he couldn't help but wonder what his life would be like if she was still here. Maybe things would have been better with his daughter. He ran a hand through his hair trying to dismiss the thoughts running through his mind and concentrated on whom he had left of his family.
He saw her standing there in the mirror. Looking beautiful. She was the image of her mother. Yet today he could see a loneliness in her eyes. The same loneliness he felt today.
"They're ready for you now" he said calmly. "You can come when you're ready" He looked at her for a moment, and then turned to walk out of her dressing room. He stopped before he closed her door. "Good luck for tonight, Rinoa"
As she heard the door of her dressing room close she looked over her shoulder to where he had been standing a few moments a go. He had been trying these past few years, but some things didn't disappear as quickly as others. He had gone and now she was alone once again in her room. A nauseous feeling come over her. At first when he had asked her to play the piano at the hotel where her mother used to work, she had strongly disagreed with it. Then she saw how much effort people had put into seeing her play, to show respect for her mother. She would play tonight, for her mother. Twelve years ago today her mother had died.
Avoiding the upsetting memories she moved to the bedside table and picked up the music sheets. Slowly she stepped towards her door taking in a deep breath. She knew she could do this. She grabbed the door handle and walked out of the room, and followed the same path her father would have gone.
She stood at the top of the spiral stairs, pausing for a moment to catch a breath before she descended to where everyone waited. Waiting for her to play her mother's song, to remember her twelve years later. She straightened her dress and slowly walked down, her heels clicking on the ground as she walked. She made her way down onto the stage, avoiding any eye contact with the people watching her. She was nervous enough without looking at how many people were there.
She sat down by the piano and studied her music sheets. Inhaling a deep breath she placed her hands on the keys and began to play, her delicate fingers dancing over the ivory keys. As she played she couldn't help but think back to her mother. How could she not? It was her mother's music, the song which had made her famous, she was playing and everything in the hotel reminded her of what hurt her the most. She seemed to get into a trance and could no longer hear the music she was playing. She saw her hands moving, but no sounds were coming from the piano. From the corner of her eye she saw the audience looking. She felt confused. Their body language seemed to show that they could hear the music, yet she couldn't. She looked back down to her hands. She was stood on grass.
Confusion took over her senses and she looked around her in panic. She saw a church and all around her were gravestones. Just in front of her a crowd stood wearing black. She could hear some of the people crying as the priest held the ceremony. She couldn't help but feel like she had been here before. The crowd looked familiar. The priest looked familiar.
She took a few slow steps forward. She was still confused. How could she be here? One minute she was playing the piano, and now here...? A thought came to her mind as she came closer to the funeral but she quickly dismissed the thought. It wasn't possible. Through the crowds of people she could see the stone grave. The letters imprinted on the grave were becoming clearer now as she approached it. She was sure her eyes were deceiving her; there was no explanation to how this could happen. It was all a bad dream. She closed her eyes. She didn't dare open them again. She should be playing the piano now. Slowly she opened her eyes to find herself still staring at the gravestone. With the name Julia Heartilly engraved in it.
"How?" she couldn't help but gasp as she saw it. Another wave of confusion mixed with fear filled her senses as she looked at the people concentrating on the funeral. It seemed as though they hadn't heard her speak as none of them seemed to pay attention to her. She knew those people. They were all there at her mother's funeral. Her ears pricked up at the sound of a young girl crying. She looked down and stepped back in fear. This really had to be a dream.
Crouched down on the floor was a man. The man looked familiar. It was her father, looking a bit younger, as he cradled a young girl in his arms. The girl had long black hair and clung onto Rinoa's father tightly as she watched the funeral. Rinoa felt like running away when she saw herself as a child. How could this be possible? If she ran away, where would she run? So instead, she stood. She stood transfixed by what she saw in front of her. She felt like she was frozen in time as she watched the funeral take place. She studied every person there; some people she hadn't noticed were present before when she was a child. She felt she had to look at something, anything but watch the coffin or the gravestone.
She felt a cool breeze rush past her skin, which made the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. She shivered with the new cold sensation that had come over her body. Wrapping her arms around her while her teeth chattered. She wondered how she could be here, as she looked down to notice that she was wearing the same dress she was wearing when she was playing the piano. She was distracted from her thoughts when she felt something brush past her. She turned to her right to see someone wearing black. She couldn't tell who they were due to the hood over their head, shadowing their face. She was sure no one had come to the funeral late when she was a child. Then again, she didn't really take much notice to whether people had come or not.
Rinoa turned her head towards the person once more as she saw them move. He took a few steps closer, leaning over the empty grave. He stood for a moment looking at the hole and then turned to face Rinoa. How could he see her when no one else could?
The man lifted his right arm over to his left side and reaching under her coat pulled out an object. She couldn't help but stare and wonder what he was doing. The mans hand pulled out what looked like to be some sort of sword, she couldn't tell. He smiled at the blade. Yes, this was what it was all about.
Another sense of fear took over Rinoa's body as she saw him turn his body to face her. The man's eyes flashed evilly. This was the moment he waited for. The pain, the fear, it was what he needed to see. Yes, it felt good. She saw him draw his armed hand back and then quickly strike it in her direction. She screamed as soon as she saw his hand move into her and shut her eyes.
She felt a sharp pain plunge into her stomach. Her eyes shot open at the pain. She looked down to see blood pouring from her body and stain the white night gown. She looked up to see the same man as before but couldn't help but notice the surroundings around her had changed again. She now stood in a dimly lit house. She guessed it might have been late at night. She studied her surroundings. This time she didn't know where she was. Her hands were stained in crimson.
So much blood. It just seemed to pour out of her. Her hands were shaking and she felt weak. Her knees gave way and she crashed to the floor. Alone. Was this what it was like to die? Her eyes felt heavy and she struggled to keep them open. As he vision blurred she saw a door opened and she saw a small boy run towards her. He screamed out but she couldn't hear him. A hand grabbed the boy and spun him away. Maybe she was wrong in thinking that she was alone. The same man from before stood barely visible in the shadows. The small boy twisted from the man's grip and ran to help her. The man quickly launched after him and once again grabbed him. This time he raised the blade and sliced it across his face. She saw blood pouring from his face and heard his scream. Poor boy. Her eyes slowly shut and everything turned to darkness.
It was peaceful. So quiet and dark. Maybe dying wasn't so bad after all. A sound of mumbling filled her senses. Who was talking? She felt her hands touching something. Slowly she opened her eyes to see her fingers on piano keys. She looked down to her stomach to see her wine red dress. Her breathing quickened. She was back. She wasn't dead. The voices caught her attention again. Rinoa turned her head to see the audience she was playing to looking at her with worried faces. She was still confused. What had just happened?
She felt the hot tears burn up in her eyes and did what she had wanted to do when she had been in the graveyard a few moments ago. She ran. She could feel everyone's eyes staring at her as she ran up the stairs but she didn't care. She just wanted to get away. She felt herself bump into someone and muffled a quiet apology. She lifted her eyes to be greeted with a pair of ice blue eyes and couldn't help but notice a scar across their face. She stood still staring at him for a moment; she couldn't help thinking that she'd seen him before. Then once again she ran.
Authors note: Just a little note to say we're really sorry for not updating any sooner! It was just really difficult thinking of the storyline for this story. We kind of know where we're going with this story now so hopefully it'll be updated quicker next time. Please leave a review! Thanks.