Rose of Death
Chapter 1
I'm lost. Lost in a world I know nothing about. A place that has no meaning to me. A place I cannot comprehend. It isn't reality, yet it is no dream. I question myself: why am I here? What is my purpose of being here in this world? My eyes search for something I can understand. Finally they land on a house. A house surrounded by grey sorm clouds pelting down sheets of rain. There is a tree out the front. It is dead; long dead. The branches stick up at odd angles, giving it a sinister appearance. The main front windo has jagged shards of glass poking up from its frame. The white lace curtain flutteres in the wind as though the breeze is calm. But it is anything but calm. The clouds roll in, bnringing with them the crack of lightning, the roar of thunder and the continuous steady stream of rain. The wind thrashes about, lashing at the trees behind the house, throwing them back and forth, bending the trunks on almost impossible angles. The trees groan in protest, but the wind refuses to cease its game. The windows on the house rattle helplessly, threatening to shatter. The old pathway, bordered with dead flower beds, twists and turns on its way up to the front door. Pieces of black paint flake off the door in the wind, revealing a old wooden one.
There is movement inside the house
Voices. Noises. Screams.
The dull flickering light of candles creates silhouettes on the houses walls. The silhouettes belong to the children. Those spiteful, evil yet helpless children. Their voices carry up the stairs and along the old crimson carpet. The dark rich red stains are left unnoticed as the children glide across the hall. They're singing. Chanting the forgotten song that had once brought peace and harmony. Now all it brings is sadness and tears. The children mourn for their loss. The loss of themselves. The loss of their lives. Something strange stirs within the house. Something so dark and so evil it had been hidden away from hundreds of years. Something that endangers the rest of the world.
The wind begins to blow through the house, shaking the furniture, breaking windows and causing the chanelier to sway in a sickly manner. The childrens song becomes more urgent.
They goran as they continue with their attempt to climb to the attic. But the wind picks them up one by one and takes them back to their cells from which they came. Their prison. Their jail. Their screams echo around the house as they flee the wind in search of an escape. They have waited too long to be defeated nw. They push harder, their small, fragile fingers gripping tightly onto banisters, door knobs, pieces of furniture; anything to keep themselves from being captured - again. They never stop their song. It grows steadily louder and louder as the children cling desperately to whatever they can. But they are not strong enough. And eventually their is only one left. The small, crying child still murmurs its song weakly under its breath. It refuses to let the wind take it. Its eyes sudden burst open with amazing power. They're wide and emit an eerie glow. The wind seems to falter, as though it is afraid. The child slowly rises and releases the banister from its grip.
It's song now grows more fierce, more menacing. The wind draws back, and for a moment their is silence. An eerie silence. And a moment later all that is good. The wind rises up again and takes the child by surprise. With one last feeble cry, the child is thrown back into its confinement where it is expected to stay for atleast another decade.
The child has other plans.
A/N - This here was just a teaser for the real story to come. This is actually based on a dream I had, so I'll blame my subconscious mind for not giving me more of a plot. If you like it, please review. If you don't like it, please review anyway. You never know, by the time you press that review button, you may be feeling nice.
Next Chapter - Hermione wakes up in her dorm after a disturbing dream. What news does she hear later on that brings a dreaded sense of forboding?