Darkness lives on the Midnight Isle,
To many a soul, it is their final hour,
Darkness breeds deep in our rotted souls,
To Darkness to trounce light is our goal.
As soon as I awoke I knew I was still on the Midnight Isle. The room I was in was dark; with a few windows that over looked the desolate plains. Smoke from the mines was visible in the horizon. Judging from my view, I was on the 5th or 6th floor of some sort of tower. To my left was a small dresser, closet, a door to the bathroom, and a sewing machine. To my right was a table with a few knick knacks, chair, and another dresser; not a lot to work with if you want to escape. I stood up from the bed I was sitting on. It was surprisingly comfortable with a mismatched colored comforter. Cautiously I rose from the bed and started exploring my new space. Even though I knew it would be locked, I tried turning the knob to the front door of my new room. But to no avail.
"Nice try," said a muffled voice on the other side of the door. It was Letheo. Uh-oh.
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You now know why the caged bird sings,
Trapped inside her cage of words,
Unable to get out, unable to be heard,
But I long for you,
As you long for freedom,
Never, you can not escape from me
"She's awake," said Letheo. He was standing in the study of his master, Christopher Carrion. Carrion continued to read his book on the torturing techniques of his predecessors. His nightmares swarmed contently in his collar, they had been glowing extra-bright that night. "Is she now?" asked the Dark Lord with mild interest, "Well, let's not be rude and keep our guest waiting." He finished his statement with a grisly smile that made Letheo almost feel sorry for the girl-almost. Letheo nodded in agreement. "Can I have my medicine now?" asked Letheo. His face and teeth were growing longer and longer. He figured Carrion would be in a good mood tonight. "Fine. Four drops for now," said Carrion, "I want to see what this girl can do," he finished as he took out a flask. Carrion deposited four drops into the boy's open mouth. The effect was instantaneous.
Letheo dropped to the floor writhing. Slowly, his scales changed from scale to skin, claws to nails, and fangs to teeth. Carrion watched with indifference. Finally, Letheo rose from his feet. "Boy," said Carrion, "I will meet you by the watchtower in 10 minuets. I have a task for our little seamstress. Bring plenty of fabric, my old cloak and my measurements. Or else." Letheo nodded apprehensively and ran out the door, eager to get his tasks done on time.
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Every beat of my heart brings you closer,
Every beat of my heart brings you near,
With every beat of my heart,
I get closer to fear.
I was feeling more and more apprehensive to get out of here every passing moment. Perhaps rinsing my face with some cold water might help, I thought. I let the cold water run through my fingers as I reflected on the past few hours. Letting a tear slide down my cheek I pondered what would happen to me. Christopher Carrion was malicious, spiteful, and intelligent--not a good combination. Sighing I dried my face off and started looking around. I had looked the room over again and again but still I could find nothing to help my escape. Every time I finished searching, something within me would tell me to search again and again; anxiety probably. That alone can make someone go crazy. No, I must keep my mind. There's no way I'm going down as Marina, the Girl Who Went Crazy After Only Staying on Midnight for Only Like an Hour. Uh-uh. No way. Just as I was finally started to feel a little better was when the door opened.
I struggled for breath and my heart seemed to fail me. For standing in my room was Christopher Carrion. His presence alone was enough to scare someone for it alone seemed to freeze the air around him and instill it with a sinister aura. If that wasn't enough, he was well over 6 feet tall, 6' 6" I guessed; I'm only 5'3". The clothes he wore were both terrifying and beautiful. It must have taken an extremely diligent and talented seamstress to create them.
Letheo stood next to him, holding a large bundle of several different cloths, and adornments. Had I not seen the scaly-skin feet under all the fabric, I don't think I would have known who was behind it. My gaze traveled back to Carrion. Only this time when my eyes caught his, there was no curiosity on my part, only fear. Carrion jerked his head toward the table and Letheo deposited the fabrics, needles, and thread on it. Letheo looked different, more humanlike, I noticed; but Letheo's new appearance was of no concern to me. The Dark Lord was standing in my room, I took a deep breath It might be my last I thought to myself. Hopefully, if he kills me he'll make it quick.
"You may be wondering why you're here," said Carrion. All I could do was nod. My back hit the wall, I didn't even know I had been moving toward it. "Well, I am in need of a new seamstress," he finished. My legs almost gave out on me, something that had never happened before. "What?" I asked. I had finally regained my speech. "You fear me. And for good reason. But see here, I am not hurting you am I?" said Carrion. That's true I thought to myself but you could never be too sure. As if to prove his point he pulled up a chair and promptly sat on it. I could hardly believe what was happening, why wasn't I dead already? "What…do you want?" I asked. Carrion smiled his gruesome smile. My blood ran cold though my veins. Death personified and sitting right in front of me. "What do I want? You are, as of right now my seamstress. You are to make me what I want when I want. For your first task, I would like you to patch up my old cloak; it got ruined during a battle. I expect it to be absolutely perfect, understand? And, because you are now working for me on Midnight, I expect you to dress the part agreed? And I assume you have a name?" he said. I looked down. My dress had become dirty and bloody over the last few hours. "Yes, and it's Marina," I mumbled. I didn't know what to think. Should I feel happy because I'm going to live? Or should I feel sad because I'm now working for Christopher Carrion and I probably wouldn't get to see my family--ever. The sadness was setting in--fast. "That's 'yes Lord' might I remind you. This is your home and because so, you are now faithful to me whether you like it or not," he finished. I just stared at him and nodded. "Yes my Lord," I whispered hoarsely. Carrion swiftly stood up and left, Letheo at his heels.
When I came to choosing sides, day or night, I never had an answer. I suppose now I didn't have a choice. The first thing I did, after they left and I heard the locks click was throw myself onto my bed and had myself a good cry. Those were probably the longest and scariest 2-4 minuets of my life. Even in such a brief period of time, Carrion scared the stuffing out of me. What is happening to me? I wondered. I mean, I've always loved to sew and make things, but this? Please! Taking deep breaths I tried to get a hold on the situation.
Okay, I thought you've got to fix up Carrion—Lord Carrion's old cloak thing. How hard could it be? I wiped the remaining tears out of my eyes and took a look at Carrion's old cloak. I practically started to cry again.
It was tattered and torn beyond repair. Holes the sizes of my fingers were torn throughout the fabric and it was faded. There has to be some way to pull this off. I sat down on my little chair and thought and thought and thought. Finally, an idea hit me. The holes in the fabric could act as the open, twisted mouths of the condemned. They would merge and twist together in a repulsive and vile mass, each mouth releasing a silent scream, the very image sent shivers down my spine. I released a morbid side of me I never knew I really had. Grabbing the fabrics and setting the cloak on a hanger so I could get a better look at it. I was getting some pretty good and horrific ideas now. But, I had to remember, I couldn't go overboard. If I did, it might result in a costly mistake that I would have to repay with my life or sanity; whichever comes first. Positioning the light overhead, I started to work. Who knows when Carrion would come back. But when he does, his cloak will be ready. And so will I.