"Steve's dead." Her voice was gentle and soft, like silk—soft, deadly silk.
Turning my ebony gaze away from the sun filled window, I eyed Alexia blankly. Ivory lips slightly parted, I could find no words to comment on them. Clutching my thin white gown, I turned away from her, my dark hair flickering out behind me.
"Why do you torment me so?" I said finally, the stillness of the room becoming too overbearing.
"Do you wish to see him?" There was a smirk in her voice. As if challenging me to ask for more torment.
"No!" I hissed, running to the doors of the grand room and yanking them open, sprinting into the sun filled hall of this vast, remote mansion. Turning a corner sharply, I came to my room, and fell to my knees in front of my oak door, clutching the golden door handle as my eyes filled with salty tears.
Shakily, I stood up and opened the door, dragging myself in and into the darkness. And the sight that meet my eyes-the horror! Screaming, I pivoted quickly from that mutated corpse on my very bed, only to run into the stone hard grip of Alexia Ashford. Clutching my shoulders, seemingly very easy, she looked down at me gently.
"Liar," she said. "You wanted to see him," were the words that went unspoken.
"No....no! You placed him there. I had no idea!" I said frantically, my gaze moving rapidly over her face and finally into her glacier eyes.
"But you wanted to see him-you were almost hoping for it!" She hissed at me.
"Never-I never wanted to see him hurt-"
"There's a fascination with death no one can refuse. It's old as time itself. Just look back on those public burnings. People gathered from far and wide to witness it. Like all their questions of death would be answered."
"No-not him who I love."
"Especially he whom you love. We only mutilate that which we love."
Something about her words seemed completely true, but I wouldn't admit it. "Oh, let me be, let me go," I said mutely, almost crying as I tried to pull my hands from her grip. I wanted to cover my face and keep from looking into those haunting eyes.
But she wouldn't let me go. "Admit it, Honour. Admit it, my woeful heir."
Looking down, my hair forming a dark veil about my face, I silently cried. "Beautiful liar. Thief of life. I admit to it, but only out of contempt for you."
Dropping me, I feel limply to my knees and hands. Not daring to look up, I brought my hands to my face.
"I admit it—I wanted to see him. Some intriguing part of me....Take him from my room, whore of time!"
Alexia laughed lightly, walking over to the bed. "I do whore time, and now, so do you, my apprentice. We shall give the world something new to believe in. Something new to worship and kill for."
"Leave me, Alexia." My voice was stern, as I finally looked up; however, my back was to her, to the bed and
Walking past me, she quietly said, "I am your Grand Mistress now. You shall refer to me as such, Mistress."
Pressing my lips together as anger at the mere sight of her rose, I saw her smirk and eventually her lave the room. Standing up quickly, I turned around. Steve was gone. A tape laid there now, where he had once been. Walking warily over to my bed, I picked it up and held it in my arms, feeling the weight of it. It felt very light, almost light as air. Like new formed strength. Casting a cautious look at the small television in my room, I took a deep breath as it seemed to look back at me eerily in the dark.
Walking over, I bent down and inserted the tape into the VCR. An image appeared on screen. And image of a brown haired woman walking down a long, dark hallway. She was pretty, with a quick step and well fitted in that jean and red vested outfit. And there, at the end of the hallway was Steve....tied up. A prisoner. I bit my lip, not sure if I wanted to see what may be the end of Steve's life.