My eyes shuddered, and my mind scattered. Her presence was overwhelming. I felt like a fish lost at sea with no where to go. I couldn't hide. I couldn't scream.
The room's air was cold, goosebumps ran up and down both of my arms. The woman's blouse waved like being pushed by air. But we were indoors.
Her face was slashed, she had hundreds of scars on her body, and her smile was invitational. There was far more to her than I could even comprehend.
Gustang, the man with the white eye, stood behind her. He was leaned against the wall. His arms were crossed, and he had a smug look on his face. His eyes were peeled on the woman. In his face I could see an unspoken promise, I'll step in if she goes too far.
The floor's wood boards creaked as the woman stepped closer, and closer, and closer.. Till she was just in front of me. I was still in the chair she so kindly forced me in. With just a flick of her finger she sent my whole body barreling into the chair.
I don't know what kind of power she had, but I knew it was far beyond anything I was capable of.
"Now... Tell me why you left all these scars. We agreed one a clean slit neck, but this..." She paused and looked down to her stomach. Her loose black hair falling down, it was stringy like she hadn't bathed in days. She looked like a zombie.
She moved her hand over the gashed scars and the ripped fabric, it was like a bear had ravaged her body. But I did it. Some part of me was capable of that. Just the thought of it made me sit in far more fear than the woman ever made me feel.
Quickly she moved that same hand to my chin, she gripped it and pulled my head to the side. She leaned in a little closer, I could smell the metallic tang of blood all over her.
Her breath brushed past my ear and she whispered, "I would be careful in the dark if I was you.." it felt like she spoke directly into my brain. The words echoed in my mind. Gustang shifted his arms, one hand at his side now, and the other reaching for his inner coat pocket.
In a fraction of a moment the woman vanished into thin air, the breeze hit my head. In that same moment I felt a wave of pressure let go of me. I moved my legs, noticing I had control back I stood up.
When she vanished a few fresh drops of blood hit the ground, I had thought it was strange all her wounds had healed. But it seemed at least one did not.
Gustang grunted and took his hand out of his inner coat pocket. His eyes flashed to me, and he had this look on his face. A look of grief, and of despair.
He pushed himself off the wall he leaned on and walked to his desk. He sat down in his chair, it squeaked as he sat.
He moved his hand, he had on a long coat and an undershirt with long sleeves under it, but I saw just a glimpse of faintly glowing sigils on his arm.
He banged his hand on the table, it made a loud crash and the whoosh of the air breaking hit my forehead again.
"River... she knows." His voice was full of defeat. As he finished the sentence he hung his head down lower and I saw a tear hit the table. I didn't even notice his eyes swelling up.
I replied, "Knows... what?"
He lifted his head, in his one good eye the tears were still flowing, slow but there. It made me feel a sense of remorse, I wasn't sure why. To the current me he was nobody, just someone I met ten minutes ago. But I felt a sense of fatherly love from him. Like he had taken me in as a stray.
But the tears began to slow, and his brows furrowed and face tensed. He had a look of confusion writ across his face.
"What are you talking about? What do you-" He said, but I interrupted him mid sentence.
"I-I have no memories of anything from the past decade to before the murder, it's like I hit my head." I said, my voice was almost raised at him. Not in anger or frustration, but desperation, for someone to hear my pleas.
He paused, his face frozen and his eyes pierced my soul. I could see his mind thinking--rushing to all the possibilities. He did this for over a minute, he tapped his index finger lightly on the desk as he did. The sound of it grounded me in the moment.
Finally--he spoke, "R-River, you forgot...? Everything?" he stopped suddenly. Not because I interrupted, and not because something else happened. But because he was still thinking. Trying to understand how it could happen.
I nodded my head at him, my hair fells on my face, brushing my nose, I pushed it to the side.
Neither of us said anything for another minute, he was at a loss of words. And I was waiting for him to say something.
His index finger still tapping, getting a little faster every few seconds. Till it stopped.
"River, I can't explain the past decade now, but I can tell you of the current events." He said, his face finally eased up and he didn't seem so lost. Now his face was loose, and his tears had dried up. In his eyes I saw a glimmer of opportunity, a chance waiting to be took.
"You are my son, by adoption. And the sole heir to house Ouroboros. You, me, and that woman from earlier--Lady Annabelle, the new head of house Cerberus in the wake of the counts death-- devised a plan for her to usurp her husband, the count, and claim the county for herself." He paused, taking in a deep breath and his face turned to a look of fear.
His face tensed, he moved his hand and began to stroke the edges of his moustache.
"But, you and I had a second part of the plan, just between us. To usurp the countess and count in one blow. To Lady Annabelle, we told her we would leave one cut at her throat and one at her husbands. None in the county knew resurrection was within the countess' abilities. She would hail it as a divine miracle, that she was the rightful heir to the county. And in return, I would be able to learn of-" He cut off his eyes shifting directly toward my pupils, his face turned grim again.
Not of sorrow, not of fear, but of uncertainty. He shook his head slightly. As if signaling I wasn't ready.
"A special member of our House's whereabouts, someone very dear to us both. But you and I, our secretive plan, was to kill her as well. We had knowledge of the countess' vampiric lineage, and you would use an enchanted knife of Vee D. Grimwell to slay her. For good. But as you and I can both see, it failed. And now she has the sole dominion of this county." His voice came out rough at the end, and his head turned down to the table.
I didn't know what to say, how to feel. I wanted to ask who that special person was, but it seemed inconsequential.
I slammed my fist against his desk as well, though mine had far less impact.
"So, we're fucked? Lady Annabelle, I don't remember her personally, but from my early childhood I heard bedtime stories. Of a vampire in Faelrau, who haunted the streets at night and lived in secret with nobles. She was centuries old, and the strongest being in the duchy of Rulau." I said.
Gustang's head remained down, he began to tap his fingers again. I heard tears thud against the desk's dark oak wood again. The room was filled with dread. Both of us knew of our impending doom.
Gustang ignored my question, as if he didn't hear it. Maybe his ears were shut off. I picked my fist off the desk and turned around, as if to go to my bed. Only to realize, I had forgotten where that even was...
"F-Father, where is my room...?" I asked, my voice was hesitant on the word father. I wasn't sure if it was the right term for him.
"Second floor, first on the left... son." He said, his voice has a sense of happiness in it. Joy, like I hadn't heard in him before. He smiled at me. A forced smile, an exaggerated one.
But it still made me feel better.
The stairs were of the same dark oak as Gustang's desk, and were steep. There was two flights to the second floor. Such high ceilings seemed needlessly over the top to me. But maybe that was the point.
As I reached the second floor of our house, I looked to the left and down the hallway. It was dark, the only light was from the lamps on downstairs. There was a long green rug laid out down the hallway, there was maybe five doors.
I was curious what they led to, but I was too tired to check.
I was due a night's rest.
But as I went into my room I wondered--if it was my turn to be on the receiving end of a knife.