Second Chapter! Whoo! Warning: There may be self harm and just harm in general in this chapter (possibly) and later chapters. If these events trigger your mood in any way, please redirect yourself away from this story. If you like reading this story and the events bother you, feel free to message me. I will willingly create another story in which the outcome of the situations is different. Also, if you've never read any of Radha's Inkheart stories, they're a thrill! (And very funny, too). Now, without further ado-My story!
Then men drug her to a building that highly resembled a church, and Rosanna closed her eyes. Cultists. They were bloody cultists and this was some sort of ritual, perhaps. It was highly likely.
When they pushed her into the church building, she looked around slowly, praying she wouldn't break down and cry again. She had cried four times that day already (she had counted each time in order to keep herself in check). Red overwhelmed her. Blood red walls, but the bad thing was, she didn't seem to mind. Red was her calm-color, the color that suited her best.
"Well, it seems as if Alonso finally succeeded."
Rosanna lifted her head to the voice upon hearing it. It like a cloudy day, cold and cruel. The voice itself struck fear to her very knees, and her heart froze upon it. This man was no man to mess with.
"She ain't harmed," the red-faced man said, his voice meek. "You said you didn't want no scratches on her."
It took everything in Rosanna to keep her mouth shut and not correct this poorly-educated man's grammar. It seemed to bother even the man who sat in a throne-like chair at the center of the room. His nose seemed to twitch in dislike for the man.
'Like a blood-sucking rabbit,' Rosanna thought, and shook her head slightly to get that horrific image out of her mind.
"Do you know why you're here?" the man asked, his voice cooler than a fall breeze.
"N-no sir," she said, trying to remain dignified. "I-I'm Rosanna. It's n-nice to meet you," she told him, attempting to regain her manners.
The man smiled, and Rosanna thought she might turn over and be sick. His smile was twisted, and it was wrong. She hoped he never did it again.
"My, this one has manners," he said, amused, but his tone still as cold as it was before. "I am Capricorn. You are here because my men have caught onto your special talent. Not that you did very well to keep it hidden," he said upon noticing his men's proud smirks that instantly faded when he said such.
"M-my gift, sir? I do not understand," she said honestly. She could not begin to imagine what the insane man meant.
"Yes, your gift." Capricorn snapped his fingers and a book was handed to a man that she had not yet noticed. "Read, Darius," he ordered, and Rosanna's heart sank. Suddenly, she knew exactly what he was talking about.
The man, Darius, (or so she presumed he was called) began reading out of the book that was given to him. It was a copy of The Brothers Grimm; Cinderella. A gory tale, but one she read often as a child.
As the man read from the book, a woman appeared. Her face was smeared with dirt, and her skin was tanned from working in the sun. Her hair was pulled loosely into a bun, golden strands hanging down.
"Put her in the maid's quarters," Capricorn ordered. "This one certainly won't mind being put to work." A few of Capricorn's men laughed at his joke as one grabbed a hold of her, taking her, confused, to wherever the maid's quarters were.
"I believe I understand now."
Rosanna's voice was clear through the madness. She had calmed down, the red color of everything soothing her, like a soft song that was underlying in the noise.
"Good," Capricorn said, clapping his hands together. "Basta, take her to her room. We will begin tomorrow."
-End of Chapter 2-
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