Chapter 2…The Encounter
When both hinges were removed she pushed with all her might and the door groaned open.
Rosalie sidled through the gap and stared ahead nervously. The doorway, while well lit on one side, was achingly lightless on the other side, small beams of light reaching out into the un-ending darkness. It seemed to be a huge open chamber, deep under her castle. Another rumble went through the floor and the walls around her, this was definitely where the source of the shaking was located. She was unsure of what she should do next.
Was it dangerous to continue? Could she even be hurt inside her head?
Her mind jumped to almost drowning in the classroom at school due to a memory, so she wasn't so sure she was safe here. Rosalie felt a cold trickle slide down her spine the air was suddenly alive like it was charged with electricity, and the burn of cinnamon grew stronger.
Unable to deny her curiousity, even in the face of possible danger, Rosalie wished for a flashlight and took the first step deeper into the blank space ahead. As soon as she left the threshold the light from outside dimmed down till all that was left was the weak beam her torchlight gave, a small thing compared to the heavy pressure of the darkness around her.
As she walked she noticed that it wasn't silent, in fact the whole room was humming low, almost unnoticeable and that sometimes she thought heard whispers (likely only the blood rushing through her ears).
"He-hello?" she tried, hoping to provoke a reaction of some sort.
It hurts…
Rosalie whipped around, "Who said that?" Her vibrant eyes were wide with fear. Help me…it hurts…
Who was it? Why was there someone in her head? How was she supposed to help?
"Are you real?" she asked the darkness
I'm broken…help….come closer, the darkness answered back.
Rosalie pulled her chin up and shook off her fear, "Which way?" In answer to her question thousands of thin silver threads shot out towards her, creating a shining path. Far ahead there was a bright glow where the threads ended and she squinted, peering past her hand hoping to see what was at the end. No such luck, it was too bright to see anything.
So she moved forward, hoping to come to the end of this mystery.
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The sight before her was really quite scary and Rosalie wasn't sure how such horrific things were made in her head. But at the end of the silvery path what she found was gruesome. It was a baby, or…what looked like a baby. Its skin was torn and bleeding all over; and it was skinny, like it was dying, with cheekbones sticking out sharply. The truly bizarre thing about it all was the tightly woven gold and silver threads that covered every inch, it was wrapped so thickly it looked like a shimmering golden cocoon with only the head visible above the mess.
The thing whimpered and its eyes cracked open. Blood red inhuman eyes stared back at her, this was definitely not a baby.
Release me…it hurts… the thing opened its mouth, but its lips did not move. Heart thumping furiously in her chest, Rosalie raised her hand and touched the bleeding thing. It leaned its head into her hand, like it was starved of contact. She immediately began pulling at the threads, trying to unweave them from the top, but every time she got one a little loose, the thread would wind tighter and the pieces would snap as if very brittle. The longer she struggled with the cocoon the more it seemed to come alive, the threads now sliding together and knotting quickly and making a mess.
Rosalie huffed, frustrated and tore at a handful of threads with all her strength. The cords snapped and she fell, the thing cried out in a horrible gargle and hissed at her.
Ssstop! It hurts, no more…. She felt bad for hurting it but she didn't know how to help. "It's not working, how am I supposed to get that stuff off?" she ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. The baby-thing sneered at her with no teeth.
Cut it…it spit out.
She pulled herself up and willed scissors to appear, they did. So she set about cutting the threads away and unwinding them, the loose ones wiggled as if blown in the wind, alive with some force. As the threads fell away Rosalie had to hold back the majority from slowly wrapping around the creature again, till there was enough space to pull the small body through the mess.
Then she cradled it, unbothered by the grossness and blood, too busy trying to understand what was happening. The creature, now freed looked worse now that most of it wasn't concealed. Its limbs were longer than normal, and its face was mature, but small. Overall the thing looked like a shrunken adult who was mummified yet still alive. It was pathetic.
Why are you in here? Who are you? What happened to you? What should I do? She wanted to yell the questions out loud, but the thing looked tired and she figured it would talk when it was ready.
Rocking it gently Rosalie wiped off the blood from around its face, its eyes opened in response and it hissed again, pulling away.
Set me down it struggled, "You're hurt, stop that…Will you please tell me what's happening?" she asked, panic and confusion obvious in her tone.
It stared at her with those unnerving eyes, Rosalie Potter, you are a witch I am a wizard. We are in your mindscape, I was trapped inside of you, bound by the magic you just tore away. I can feel your body dying, but I see that you are very young. I only want to help.
Rosalie almost dropped it in shock; witch, magic, mindscape, dying! How could she be dying, she was lying in her cupboard right now, this was all imagination. Wasn't it?
She gave no response but allowed her mind to sort out what the 'wizard' just revealed. The impossible things that happened around her could be explained by magic, she was always aware of that, but for that to happen to her? She was magical, just plain old Rosalie Potter was magical? Her heart wanted to believe. But magic was impossible.
Memories came flooding, all her life flashing unwillingly before her eyes, followed by a sharp pain. Rosalie cried out and the small body held in her arms fell, its gaze disconnecting from hers. Her head hurt terribly and she backed away from the thing, correctly assuming that he caused that pain.
"What did you do?" she panicked, clutching at her head.
It was sitting up on its own now, head tilted at her its expression blank.
I've decided to help you, I cannot sustain myself like this, my form is too unstable, that magic was essentially holding me together.
Rosalie opened her mouth to respond but he shushed her with a sharp jab of his hand, she found she couldn't speak.
After viewing your memories it is obvious that if I leave you to your own devices, our continued survival is not guaranteed. If you die, I die. The only thing that can protect you from those disgusting Muggles is your magic. So I will give you what knowledge I can, and I will fuse with you to make sure we both live. You will most likely never meet this version of me again, but I warn you Rosalie Potter, accept your power. Do not fear it or allow others to keep you from it. For it will be the only thing standing between you and tremendous pain.
Her mouth hung open in confusion and shock, too much was happening and Rosalie was hopelessly lost. The thing reached out for her and she reflexively picked him up. He looked deeply into her eyes and said, I look forward to our destiny Miss Potter, and he pressed his finger into her scar.