Twisted. Options

[Midnight Faerie]

Chapter One: Just beyond the doorway...




Heat. It is all around me, everywhere. Flames licking at my clothing, bright tongues of fire engulfing me, swallowing me whole. I am burning, burning in the sulpherous depths of the underworld. My scream is let out in amidst the crackling of the hellish fire, yet is unable to reach my own ears. I shall simply be left here, left here to die.


I sit up with a jolt, drenched thoroughly in sweat. My eyes glance over at the analog clock which sits perched on my dresser, the antique brown body polished to a rustic shine, the fine black hands indicating that the time is 4:36. This was the third time in the span of four hours that I have had this nightmare. Why? I do not know. My heart beats frantically as I glance into the mirror beside my bedside. My bright green eyes are like chips of gem as a curtain of my dark hair falls before my face, brilliantly contrasted against the moonlit pallor of my skin.
"Damn reoccuring dream..." I mutter, sliding out of bed to turn the ceiling fan on 'high'. Something pulls at my long victorian nightgown, startling me. I whirl around, only to find that the rough wood of my bedpost has snagged it. I sigh and smile to myself, relieved, gently unhooking the thin, white fabric. How silly of me to get so worked up about a nightmare. If Mother were to know, she'd scold me for being so terribly childish.
Shaking my head with exhaustion, I lay back down on my bed, hearing it give a soft groan of protest. I stare at the darkness for a while, until my mind needs to rest, and I fall back into slumber once more.


---



The sound of footsteps fade away just as I open my eyes. Metalic clicks hitting the smooth, wooden floorboards. Sunlight does not stream through the curtain folds, so I know that night is still here. Why is someone up at this time of night, then? How long have I been asleep? I turn to the clock once more, but find it not there. Puzzled, I slip out of bed again and walk towards the door, my pale hand holding the doorknob firmly, cool metal burning against it. I turn the handle, hearing the door open, but as I push it... nothing happens. Only a sliver of it is open, yet enough to fit in my slender frame.
Sucking in what stomache I have, I squeeze my way through the door. Once on the other side, I gasp and fall to the floor in shock.
I am in Wonderland.

Straight out of a Lewis Carroll classic, is the colourful landscape, swirls and curls and nothing as it seems. A magnificently gnarled old tree is sitting in a rocking chair, birds are flying backwards in the ground underneath my feet. The sun is sleeping, radiating a soft blue. But, no white rabbit in sight.
"Curiouser and curiouser..." I whisper to myself, spotting a narrow black road and making my way towards it.
As I near the path, tiny bushes of roses appear. Awed by the perfection of the crimson hue, I reach out to touch one. But as my finger grazes the petal, a sharp stinging pain stabs at my hand. Looking closely, I see the colour deepen, and, turning my hand over for inspection, I see that it has cut me.
The roses are saturated with human blood.
Appalled, I stumble backwards, walking swiftly down the road. For a good stretch of land, I see nothing but the twisted landscape. Until...
"Oh, pardon me, Miss!" The voice of a young man exclaims.
Whipping around, I see no one. Thinking it as just a trick of this marvelous parody, I start on my way once more. But again, I am stopped by that voice.
"Miss! Oh, Miss! Please, come back!" It pleads from behind me.
I bite my lip and turn around, coming face-to-face with a dashing boy of handsome features, piercing blue eyes staring straight into mine. A tremor goes throughout me, and my knees feel as if they will give out at any moment. His gaze holds me upward, until I break it, averting my eyes bashfully.
He says nothing for a moment, and I wonder if he is still there, so, I look up and see him. My breath catches at the sight of his perfect face. A shock of black hair sits atop his brilliantly moulded head, his skin as pale as my own, if not lighter. He smiles, a grin that makes me weak-kneed all over again, revealing white teeth with two canines protruding from the top. At that, my heart races. He is most likely a boy of vampyric nature.
Noticing my fear, he closes his mouth, frowning. Reaching a hand out to brush my cheek, which I find very forward of him, he says in an angelic whisper, "Do not be afraid. I shall not harm you."
I want to believe him, oh how I want to, yet another part of me has the urge to run away, leaving this handsome young man behind.
I stay, feeling as though I know him, like I've met him before.
Silly girl, I tell myself, How could you? Only a moment ago you stumbled into... Wonderland.
Now I'm sure this must be a dream. It is impossible. Of course I feel that I know him, doesn't this happen a lot in dreams?
But the feelings I got when he touched me... those were real. They had to be. So why...
I am interuppted from my thoughts by his voice.
"Dear girl, may I ask why you are out here? You are human, are you not?"
My green eyes gaze back into his blue ones, getting ready to speak.
"I..." My voice comes out in a whisper, so mustering up any courage I have, I say, "I don't know why."
The boy seems worried, and replies with this, "Then you shouldn't be here. Awful things can happen to a mortal. Wonderland is a mad place, girl. Nothing is as it is, yet everything is as it seems."
Feeling a tear roll down my face, I whisper, "I don't know how to get home. I cannot leave here."
Just like Alice....
Being the gentleman that I'm sure he is, the boy wipes away the single tear and looks at me fondly. "Same with me."
Biting back the urge to cry, I manage to ask him, "Pardon, but what is your name?"
Grinning, the boy takes a step back from me (and at this moment I realize that we were awfully close) and bows formally.
"Vincent DeWitt, at your service, madame."
I cannot help but smile as I curtsey, my long white nightgown looking abnormally good on me. "Glad to meet you, Vincent. My name is Christine."
He repeats my name over and over, as if tasting it on his tongue. Then, surprisingly, Vincent takes my hand and kisses it lightly, sending a jolt down my spine.
"A pleasure to meet such a lovely lady, with an exquisite name."
Blushing furiously, I take back my hand and follow him as we start down the road together.





Author's Note: I'll keep updating it, I promise. Unless it sucks too badly, then I won't. Please leave positive critique. No "Omg girl that totally sucked ass never write again". All right? Okeedokee.

[b0st0ngrl]

I reeeeeeeeeally like that! It sounds wundah-ful so far! I love your style of writing. I can't wait to read the rest of it

[*mipadi*]

Overall, it's very good, and I look forward to read more. There were only two lines I didn't like:

My bright green eyes glance over at the analog clock which sits perched on my dresser...

My heart beats frantically as a curtain of my dark hair falls before my face, brilliantly contrasted against the moonlit pallor of the skin.

To me, it kind of throws the perspective of the narrator off. The narrator is the person in the scene (it's written in first-person, obviously), yet she mentions the color of her eyes, and how her hair contrasts with the skin of her face. Neither are things she can really see (one can't see her own eyes, nor the skin of her face without looking in a mirror or trying very, very hard), so for that moment, it makes it seem as though an independent observer is relating the story, which destroys the immersion for at least that moment.

[Midnight Faerie]

Overall, it's very good, and I look forward to read more. There were only two lines I didn't like:

My bright green eyes glance over at the analog clock which sits perched on my dresser...

My heart beats frantically as a curtain of my dark hair falls before my face, brilliantly contrasted against the moonlit pallor of the skin.

To me, it kind of throws the perspective of the narrator off. The narrator is the person in the scene (it's written in first-person, obviously), yet she mentions the color of her eyes, and how her hair contrasts with the skin of her face. Neither are things she can really see (one can't see her own eyes, nor the skin of her face without looking in a mirror or trying very, very hard), so for that moment, it makes it seem as though an independent observer is relating the story, which destroys the immersion for at least that moment.

Ah, okay. I see what you're saying. Thank you for that comment. ^_^ I'll work on it.

[Midnight Faerie]

Chapter Two: Madness



Time. What a complicated thing. How many hours does it take to get from Helena to Albany? How long did Rip Van Winkle sleep? If two trains left two separate stations at other ends of the world, how long would it be until they collided? Time is valuable, yes. But it is also useless. At least, here it is.
I walk with Vincent in a cheery, normal silence. I hurry to keep in pace with his long, quick strides. The brilliantly blue sun has fallen, replaced by a moon, glowing in a light orange. Darkness swallows the strange forest; all that I can see are the road, the moon, and Vincent. On any other occasion I would be quite frightened. Yet with Vincent, fear seems unimaginable. I ponder this and wonder if it is a good or bad thing.
Suddenly, he stops, sending me straight into his back. I mumble an apology, but he pays it no heed. His attention is on something else, something directly in front of us.
With curiosity, I look up, and see that there is a fork in the road. One path is a deep purple, the other the same black hue. Puzzled, I walk right to where the two meet, glancing down at both.
"Which one shall we take, Mister DeWitt?" I ask, smoothing down the skirt of my black dress....
Gasping, I jump. I was not wearing this only a moment ago! For I distinctly remember a white nightgown with the fine lace trim...
But the longer I look at the dress, the more fond I grow of it. Its elegance is beautiful, with a delicately detailed black corset as the bodice. The skirt flows down to the floor, hiding my feet and leaving a train behind me. On my hands is a matching pair of black lace gloves, reaching to about my elbows. Shock and contentment consume me. It will take quite a time for me to get used to the odd happenings of Wonderland.
"What on earth..?" I exclaim, hearing a slight echo from when my voice ended. Once again, I look up, expecting to see Vincent... but I don't. Instead, darkness greets me, loneliness and dread sinking my heart. Where has he gone? What am I to do?
To my horror, teardrops appear on the ground below me, leaving wet trails on my face. For that short time, I had felt safe. Secure. And now, it was gone, replaced by awful, eerie, heartache. Fear.
Dropping to my knees, I begin to sob. Tears roll down my face in liquid diamonds. I cry and cry, for who knows how long. Oh why am I here? I should be at home, in bed. I wish for my normal, dull, miserable life to go on as it once did. No more insanity, no more nothing as it is or everything as it seems. No more... no more.
"Miss, what is the matter? Christine? Are you all right? Please, tell me what troubles you so."
Such warm, gentle words; with warm, gentle arms to match. They slide around me and I melt into them, the never-ending waterfall of tears on full blast. I am almost sure that it is Mister DeWitt, yet I cannot stop crying. The tears I shed are for home, for safety, for sanity.
They do not cease until exhaustion claims me, pulling me back into sweet, pure darkness.

----

A loud noise, like that of a cannon, rings loud in my ears. I start, finding myself wrapped tightly in Mister DeWitt's arms. For a moment I wish to lay there, enveloped in warmth and comfort. But my stinging curiousity makes me wriggle myself out of his grip, standing up and brushing dust off of my dress. As I look around, I see nothing. Night still blankets the landscape, the sky a deep black. I peer closer, and notice that the sky is not black, but a rich purple. Another moment of observation passes, letting my eyes adjust to the strange, eerie light that hangs around everything in a hazy cloud. The moon is no longer there, yet it is as bright as it would be during a full moon at home.
"How curious..." I mutter, embarrassed by my newfound "Alice-like" personality.
Rustling comes from behind me, and I look down. Vincent stirs weakly, a pale, slender hand reaching up to wipe grit from his eyes. They snap open and swallow me into that sea of magnificent blue.
His voice shakes from exhaustion, ''Christine... what is the matter?"
I shake my head, hair falling to hide my face. "I thought I heard something. That's all."
He smiles, Oh! that smile, one end curled slightly higher than the other in a boyish grin. Taking my hand, he leads me back down to the hard earth, with a look in his eye that I classify as groggy from sleep.
"Miss, there is no reason for you to be afraid," he says kindly.
"I'm not afraid-"
Vincent interrupts me, "Oh, but you are. Why else would you awake in the middle of the night, by a simple noise? I am here with you, Christine. Nothing and no one shall harm you."
Those words melt my heart, pulling at my clothes, sending me back into his arms. But then I remember that I have a mission to accomplish. I must find my way home, no matter how I feel, no matter what tempts me.
Standing up reluctantly, I say in my most brisk and formal tone, "Master DeWitt, we really must be going if I ever want to find my way home. Now is not the time for...." I trail off uncertainly, but regain my composure. "Now is not the time for this."
Is that... disappointment I see written all over his perfect face? No, don't flatter yourself, Christine. It must simply be exhaustion.
He stands, smoothing down the white cuffed shirt that fits his body only too well and straightening his knee-length black trench coat. Giving a small bow, his proceeds down the purple road, only checking back every so often to see if I'm still here.
Several long, agonizing moments of silence pass. Darkness is quickly chased away by light, day becoming bright once more. Yet the cheeriness of the world around us does not penetrate the field of awkwardness that consumes us both. I sigh, hating every minute of it.
Stop getting so attatched, I scold myself, It's only been a day and you most likely will never see him again.
At that thought, my heart sinks. Why do I feel this way about a boy whom I have only just met? Insanity. Pure insanity of this world.

Oh how I dread and look forward to the time I can return.

***

Sorry that it's so short. >_< Schoolwork has been piling up.

[b0st0ngrl]

I'm surprised no one else has commented on this...

I absolutely loooove it! It sounds great so far.

[Midnight Faerie]

Thank you. ^_^


Chapter Three: Nicnevin


Glittering crystals of an ice-like nature gleam in the early morning sunlight, as they jut out of the soft, brown earth. It startles me, yet I hush, awed by the beauty. How is it that everything in this world is beautiful and horrid at the same time? I’m not sure if I can stand this twisted logic much longer.
We near the base of a mountainous hill; the gems cover the surface like jagged teeth, limiting our chances of ever getting across it.
“What are we to do now? If we go over, we’ll get cut!” I whine, impatient and uncomfortable.
Vincent looks at me with a new expression of annoyance. Whether he is cross with me, or with our situation, I do not know.
“Give me your hand,” he says, extending his own towards me.
I obey, ignoring the tingling sensation that spreads throughout my body once my hand touches his.
Then, before I can understand what happens, I see a flash of silver and a sharp pain stabs at my arm. Crimson blood, tiny rubies, staining the earth, pouring out of the wound which has just appeared.
"Ouch! And that was for...?" My bitterness seeps through the words; for a moment I wish to take it back, but can't. The question is still burning in my mind.

His expression rests upon that flawless face like... like... Oh, words cannot describe the anxiety and fear etched plainly on his face of smooth ivory. Can it be that my protector, my knight in shining black armor, is afraid? He must notice the terror I let him see, for at once his expression calms and he flashes me a brief, but brilliant smile. At this, I begin to feel lightheaded; is it from the loss of blood, or the grin? I silently curse emotion and feeling, which only brings out more.
During my inaudible rant, a dark shadow passes over the mountain, all gleaming brought to an abrupt hault.
A part of me does not wish to look up and see what is directly above us, yet I do, and a scream claws its way up my throat.

There, a great grey mass in the sky, is the most grotesque creatue I have ever seen. A face; that is all. A dark, decayed face of what seems to be a woman. Two eyes rest in deep sockets, a film so thick around them, that you can hardly tell what colour they are. Skin... well, what is left of it, hangs loosely on what seems to be bare bone. Matted and tangled black hair sits ontop of the... thing, long greasy tendrils swooping downward , feet from the tops of their heads. They writhe and move like snakes, revolting me.
I am so frightened that a scream will not come. I tug at Vincent's coat urgently, unable to tear my eyes away from the face.

"Oh no..." He mutters, grabbing my arm and pulling me after him as he breaks into a sprint, "Come on!"
I run. I run faster than I ever have in my life, focusing only on the back of Vincent's head. My heart pounds violently against my chest, my lungs sear with pain. But I do not stop. I continue after him until the earth is like liquid, rushing under me, urging me on. How he can go this long, I do not know. I simply must follow him. Run until my heart bursts, run until my legs die, run until we are away.
And I do.

--------

"Christine... Christine, can you hear me?" A soft voice whispers, cold fingers against the heated flesh of my face.
My eyes snap open and pain consumes me. I cannot move. My legs ache horribly, throbbing in a repulsing rhythm. I lie in what seems to be a cave, dark walls shining with an unknown substance. Vincent is leaning over me, face contorted with worry.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I forgot how mortals were effected...."

As I look at him, I take a sharp breath. My lungs hurt as I do so, resulting in a violent fit of coughing. After my breathing calms, I turn my gaze back onto Vincent. He runs his thumb over my jawline, piercing me with those blue eyes. For a moment, I get lost in that icy sea, but quickly find my way back. I inch myself away from him, which shakes him out of whatever stupor he was in.
"Pardon me," says the young man in a whisper, standing up and starting to pace.

"Mister DeWitt... what was that... thing?" I ask with a shudder, remembering the details of that horrid head.
He stops abruptly and I see his shoulders tense.
"That creature is the reason I cannot leave. An awful thing. It was once something of beauty; a creature of mortal features. Her name was Nicnevin. How she became that revolting monster, I do not know. I was told that she ruled a portion of Wonderland a long, long time ago. She fell in love with a wizard, who betrayed her and turned her into... that. But instead of overruling her throne, he died soon after. When he originally cast the spell on her, she was no where near as large. As her sorrow grew, so did she. So now, she haunts the entire world, murdering the dishonest and imprisoning those who look at her too long."

I stare at Vincent, stunned. What a story. It was so hard to believe that Nicnevin had once been beautiful. But if she only meddled with the dishonest and curious, why did she have a hold on Vincent?

"What does she have to do with you?" I question him, ignoring the dull ache in my chest from speaking.
He turns to look at me with an expression of sadness and anger, "The wizard was my grandfather."
Yet another piece of shocking news to absorb. This time, I cannot even talk. Words hang loosely on the tip of my tongue, ready to fall back into my mouth. He remains quiet, looking away. We stay like this for a while, trapped in a cave of thought and silence.

[Midnight Faerie]

I have the feeling that I'm posting this for myself. But oh well.



Chapter Four: Mortal Peril

Creatures of different colors, shapes, and sizes rush past us as we make our way through the crowd. Why there is a crowd in the middle of a forest, I do not know. Of course, it’s not like anything makes sense here.
Trees stand tall and upright in the earthen ground, the leaves falling and growing back again. Constant motion. A constant cycle. One of the few things here that will always be the same.
“Foxglove! Foxglove!” The various beings chant, eyes fixed on the center of the clearing.
“Vincent, what is going on here?” I ask, straining to see. My vision is obscured so that I can hardly see the forest.
He doesn’t answer me, simply stares blankly ahead. I shiver involuntarily. Something seems… wrong here. Who or what is Foxglove? What has attracted these many visitors? How confused my mind has become since I first set foot upon this wretched land. Oh, what I would give to return home right now. Away from this. Away from it all.
Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my side and look down. A tiny creature of an imp-like nature smiles up at me with hundreds of razor-sharp teeth. It reminds me of a redcap, that smile. Like the ones I saw in storybooks when I was a young girl. Hours I used to pour over them, taking in every detail. Funny, isn’t it? Now I am in a storybook of my own.
“Mortal girl…” The impish creature rasps, prodding me in the side once more with a long, dirty fingernail. “Good… good…. Foxglove shall be delighted, yes… Delighted.”
Frightened and appalled, I move away. Vincent continues to stare ahead at the invisible something I cannot see. And then, as suddenly as the imp had appeared, a small, frail voice floats into my ear.
“… Find the mortal as soon as you can. Then, she will be sacrificed to Nicnevin. Freedom shall be ours.”

The imp grins; the most horrible expression I have ever seen in my life. I am too shocked to think. Quickly, I grab Vincent’s arm and start to dash away. It takes some effort, for he isn’t cooperating.
“What are you doing?” He asks me fiercely, eyes bright. Something seems different. Something I cannot quite place… This is not the same Vincent DeWitt I have been traveling with. Oh, no. He has changed.
“Saving my skin, thank you very much!” I whisper once we are out of sight. I push him up against a tree so I can stare him down. Has he gone completely mad? He most certainly is not normal. He’s a vampire for one thing, if not an irresistibly alluring one, and before he had cut my arm… Though I do not know why.
Nothing about his presence is calming now. He holds himself like an opponent, an enemy. This thought makes me shudder in spite of myself.
“Vincent, look,” I continue, “did you not here what they said? I am the mortal girl! They want to kill me!” My voice breaks on the last word, tears threatening to come. I loathe this. It is madness. Complete madness.
He continues to stare at me, while saying not a word. I grow self conscious, but gaze right back at him. Now is not time to back down into my shell. This is my life on the line.
Those eyes… they send another shiver going throughout me, but this time it’s different. Something I cannot place. Though I am tempted to look away, I don’t. My green eyes continue to burn a hole into his blue ones.
After what seems like eternity, he utters only two words, “Don’t worry.”
Don’t worry?! I want to scream at him, how can I not worry? If I’m captured, then I’ll be killed! This is horrid. What a tragedy.
In the midst of all this drama, I remember those television programs with the bad actors and over-dramatic script. Well, that’s what I feel like at the moment. Like my life is a bad TV movie. I’m stuck in a world with awful actors and fake tans. Woe is me.
Pulling me out of my little world, Vincent grabs my hand. Startled by his touch, I look up again, not realizing I had averted my eyes. This time, his face has softened. He seems almost apologetic. But what I get is no apology, only something even better.
As if in slow motion, he leans down and kisses me gently on the mouth. I feel my face burn, not caring that the red hue is probably visible for miles. This feeling is too wonderful to explain. My head is spinning, my heart is pounding, and I have the sensation of falling in the pit of my stomach. When he speaks again, it is as though the kiss had drained all the breath from him.
“I give you my protection. Now, we’d better get going, Miss Christine. It would be a travesty for them to find us now.”

---

But first, on earth as Vampire went,
Thy corpse shall from its tomb be rent;
Then ghastly haunt thy native place,
And suck thy blood of thy entire race;
There from the daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life,
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corpse.

The words so beautifully woven cast a spell around my mind. They reel me in, letting me dive headfirst into a sea of endless nightmares. I breathe out, life’s last breath being washed away. The water around me is so dark and cold, yet oddly comforting. I lay back into it, waiting for death to come and claim me.
Then, I am being shaken awake. Vincent kneels before me with an anxious look upon his face of divine ivory.
“Christine, we must go.” He says hurriedly, pulling me up from the earthen floor.
“But why?” I mumble groggily, absentmindedly brushing the dirt and soot from my dress.
He never responds, but pulls me after him as he walks at a brisk pace, the train of his coat trailing behind like a flurry of black bats.
The landscape flashes before my eyes, dazzling me. Every tree is a different color, from the lightest shade of blue to the deepest hue of unimaginable orange. Leaves fall rapidly, then grow again, letting small, odd creatures to sweep them up and pass them along to a large, overgrown koala-looking creature. They catch me staring, apprehension dawning on their small little faces. I quickly turn away, determined to keep my gaze on the back of Vincent’s head.
What if I die here without ever seeing my family again? What if they are engulfed in sheer sorrow, knowing that I am lost? Worry, worry, worry. That is all that comes through my mind. The only thing. I am so selfish. Why, Vincent is in the same, if not an even worse situation. He can never leave.
“Here we are,” says Vincent in a relieved tone, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. Although when I look around, I cannot tell where “here” is.
We stand amongst a thicket of berry bushes. Some looks strangely familiar, some completely distorted and out of this world. As I look more intently, a few eyes stare at me through the branches.
Vincent begins walking, letting my hand drop to my side. I hurry to keep up with him, for my dress gets snagged on the many bushels.
“Mister DeWitt…” I whine, running up to him, “Where exactly are we headed?”
At this, he glances back at me and grins, “One is never sure where one is going. They simply go.”
Oh joyous. More insanity.
“Vincent, just give me a straight answer!”
He ignores my plea, instead resumes to his fast pace through the thicket.
The wildlife becomes increasingly thicker, making me hitch my skirt up in a most un-ladylike manner.
If mother saw this, she would never approve. Why, I can almost hear her voice now…
“Christine, how dare you? A young woman of only sixteen years of age! Wandering around with some boy, prancing through a forest! If only your father were here…”
Tears sting my eyes as I think of home. How foolish of me to once think it horrid. Compared to this, home is absolutely wonderful.
Through my tears, I do not notice Vincent coming to an abrupt stop. So, being the graceful girl I am, I knock right into him again.
“Welcome to my home, Miss Christine.”




Chapter Five: Deception

“I do not understand… If you had a home this whole time, why is it that you were wandering the countryside when I met you?”
He takes a moment to reply, “I was out on an errand, Miss. Being a vampire, I found myself drawn to you, but I would have never thought I – “ Just the hint of a blush creeps across his cheeks, and I wonder what it is he was going to say.
Oh don’t be so nosy, I scold myself, wading through the bushes in order to approach the tall, black door. He opens it with a single gesture of his right hand, bowing and allowing me inside. The tiniest pang of fear bites at my heart as I walk through, but it is quickly diminished once I see the interior.
A grand, polished oak staircase gleams with an eerie light, winding up into the darkest depths of the ceiling above. A chandelier floats in the middle, bright red tongues of flame licking at the candelabras. I stare in hushed awe, when my eye is drawn in to beyond the large opened door, to the vastest library I have ever seen.
Thousands upon thousands of books line the many shelves, an enormous collection of what seems to be every book known to man. Spell books and cook books, biographies and fictional literature, even dictionaries in every language. Vincent notices my surprise, and wraps an arm around my waist.
“This is Merryweather’s library,” he says simply, “After he died in an…unfortunate incident, I took his home; the library. Nobody comes here anymore, for mortal things are outlawed.”
I sigh and relax slightly into his arms. What I’m seeing is too much to absorb. It still all seems like a vivid dream. A dream from which I cannot awaken.
I am shaken from my stupor by yet another nerve-sizzling kiss. The jolt travels down my spine like a million tiny needles, only leaving me with pleasure, not pain.
When he breaks the embrace, he flashes me a brief smile, revealing those two fangs. I cannot help but grin back.
He sets me down in an over-stuffed armchair, a smile still on his face. The smile is so honest and unguarded, that it seems out of place. I have never before been able to make someone smile like that. It feels me with a joy I do not recall feeling ever before.
“Christine, you stay here. I have some business to attend to,” says Vincent formally, straightening his shirt and jacket, and then leaving through a door I had not noticed. Leaving me alone.
This is the first time I have been alone since I met Vincent. The thought strikes me as odd. How long have I been here anyway? A few days? Weeks? Hours? No one can tell here in Wonderland. No one.
Needing to stretch my legs, I stand, walking around the enormous room. Just looking at all of these books makes me feel lightheaded.
I cringe and put my hand down on a small table I never remember being here. As my fingers come in contact with the wood, I feel something else. A cold, hard, metallic substance. I grasp it and turn it around in my hand. It is a single skeleton key.
What is a key doing here? I see no doors, other than the one I came through and the one Vincent exited out of.
Curiously, I walked toward the door I first entered. The key does not fit. With a sigh, I begin to sit back down when….
The short, oval door begins to shine with an odd radiance. I shudder, the gold key heavy in my pale, slender hands. I walk to it, my mind buzzing with curiosity. If it works, Vincent might be angry with me. If he had wanted me to go, he would have said something. Although I know curiosity killed the cat, I am no feline. A human is what I am. A human female. It is no use resisting the temptation if being curious. No use.
Slowly, I turn the key, more than satisfied when I hear the small ‘click’. Closing my eyes, I let out a rush of warm breath. I have no clue why I’m so nervous. I trust Vincent completely; it’s not as if he’d have anything to hide.
The door opens just a fraction, but wide enough for my ears to pick up Vincent’s voice.

“Yes, I have her here, Silirial. She is under my spell, do not worry. Nicnevin shall have her in time… Do not fret my sweet, she is only a mortal. What harm could this bring us?”

Heart pounding and eyes stinging, I shut the door and run back to my chair. No, no, no! This cannot be! Vincent… Oh, Vincent. Why?
Tears fall down my face as I sob uncontrollably. There is no denying it. I am going to die.