Merida could feel the aggressive pounding of her heart against the inside of her left breast. Her side was leaning on the door of Emma's bedroom; her bum was against the cold hardwood, the same spot on which she had earlier fallen.
The anger in her gut had bubbled into an anxious rage. One hand still clutched at her chest. She did not have her bow on her, and the missing weapon felt like a piece taken from her bravery.
The door against which she held her shoulder and head upright was unlocked. Not only this, but the Dark One within the confines of this room had invited her inside. Something sinister crept into the air.
The archer eyed the end of the hallway, where a faint light from the outside world illuminated the walls. Should I run?
Even though she would not be able to escape the manor, Merida wanted to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but this exact spot in front of Emma's bedroom door, where all the redhead could hear was the mind-numbing thrum of her own pulse against her temples. The rhythmic and accelerated beating of her heart grew louder, taking up more space within her conscious thoughts.
Then, a compelling and powerful voice whispered throughout her mind: come in.
It was stronger than Merida's free will. She rose to her feet, and wrapped a shaking hand around the door handle. It turned with ease, and opened to reveal pitch blackness.
The redhead stepped inside, entering the room by a few paces, just as the invitation had obliged her to.
Her eyes did not adjust to the darkness.
"You're much quieter now than you were before." A familiar female voice spoke from across the room.
The thump thump thump of Merida's pulse distracted her from the present, clouding her rational judgement and fueling her fear. She felt a strain in her chest, wanting desperately to flee.
Trapped in the maws of her predator, the redhead's vulnerability shifted to anger. "I will slay you, witch."
"Mmm." The voice moaned softly. "With what?"
Merida's heart tightened. The missing weight of her wooden bow across her shoulder was now more discomforting than ever. Her words trembled as she spoke, "With me bear hands, if I have to."
The soft rustling of sheets captured the redhead's attention; her eyes opened wider, in hopes to gather the necessary light to orient herself within the pitch black environment.
"Come closer," the whisper resonated with a heavy compulsion, coming from nowhere in particular and everywhere at once. "Come closer, and let me see those bear hands of yours, mmm-Merida, darling."
Unable to resist the lure of the Dark One, the archer's arms shot straight out, palms facing upwards. Her right leg stepped forward, into the darkness, and her left leg followed mechanically. Merida felt like she was walking into the jaws of the wolf.
The door shut behind her.
"You may have me heart," her Scottish accent was thick as her tone rose in strength to hide the terrible feeling inside, "but you'll never conquer me spirit! You're losin' the fight before ye even started it, lass."
Merida continued to step deeper into the room, her paces not yet obstructed by anything. Her outstretched hands were growing heavier with the weight of time. She heard her heart pounding; she could feel the rapid throb inside her chest begging her to turn back.
A faint red glow was visible amidst the darkness. The archer squinted, wanting a clearer picture but unwilling to quicken her robotic pace.
"You're wrong." Emma's tone was clipped, annoyed. "I'm not the one who started this fight. I'm just taking advantage of those who wronged me."
"Wh-what did I do?" The redhead fumbled to speak, the thumps of her pulse inhibiting her conscious stream of thought.
"I can't tell you that." The Dark One chuckled softly. "But I've always liked your fire. You're special to me."
Merida's heartbeat ignited something else inside of her.
"Otherwise," the voice continued with a low, malevolent pitch, "you'd be dead already, my cub."
Thud. Merida hit something wooden with her shin and her slow steps stopped. She jumped, momentarily startled, when she felt soft fingertips against the inside of her outstretched hands. The tickle traced the lines of her palms, moving to her fingers and back to the inside of her hands.
The tingling sensations shot downwards to her other extremities, setting fire to her senses in their passing. Merida's bare skin became hypersensitive, her mouth ran dry, and she could swear being able to recognize the Dark One's snow-white hair and pearly grin amidst the blackness of her surroundings.
"Your hands are so coarse for such a young woman," Emma spoke distantly, as if distracted from her original motives. "I can feel the calices."
The archer had never before felt so alive. She could feel the energy coursing through her where she and Emma touched; it was like a surge of electricity injected into her spirit. She felt the physical power of the world around her, and at the same time, Merida felt her cognitive abilities unleashed.
No longer subdued by the witch's magic, the redhead pulled her hands back and held them to her chest. She spat the words, "What are you goin' to do to me?"
Merida heard the ruffle of sheets. The Dark One spoke softly, "on the contrary; you're going to do something for me."
To be (perhaps) continued ...