In a vast field, filled with flowers of all different colours and grass that ran up to the knees of fully grown adults, a single house could be seen. The house was small, not big enough for more than two people to live in. Just outside the house, a middle-aged woman could be seen washing a dress in a large, metallic basin.
Not far off from the house was a hill where no flowers grew, and the grass did not grow nearly as high as everywhere else in the field. At the very top of this steep hill, a willow tree leaned over. The branches swayed gently in the wind, gently brushing across the face of a young girl with brown hair and eyes of the same shade.
The girl paid this no mind, she seemed to be lost in a world of her own, reading through an old book, carefully glancing up at the house in the distance every so often. The girl could see, even from this distance, that the middle-aged woman had gone inside. Having noticed this, the girl began to read aloud.
“Alicinne appeared in her tiny home, covered in snow, which was quickly melting in the heat generated by her fireplace. She removed her cloak, and tossed the heavy garment to the floor, revealing something extraordinary. She had only one arm. Alicinne was furious. She paced back and forth in front of her mantle, then paused for a moment before slamming her single arm into the wall of her home and letting out a loud grunt. Alicinne’s home shook from the force of the strike, causing embers to float out from her fireplace, flutter around in the air for a moment, and then die out on the floor. Alicinne took notice of this, and she knelt down, looking at the dead embers on her floor.”
The girl stopped reading, just long enough to glance up again to see if the middle-aged woman had exited her home again. There didn’t appear to be anyone outside, it was safe to assume she hadn’t come out yet. Why, though, did Olivia need to hide the fact that she was reading a book from the woman in the house? Perhaps it was not the fact that she was reading a book, but the fact that she was reading this book. The girl continued to read, but silently this time, knowing the woman would emerge from the house very soon.
Alicinne paused, rubbing her fingertips together. She sniffed the air, and a look of concern spread across her face. The smell of Citrus had filled her home. She reached to her side, pulling her heavy, wet cloak over her body, shielding as much of her body as she could. As soon as the cloak had been pulled over her, the flames in the fireplace roared out of it, enveloping the wet cloak and everything around it. Oddly enough, the flames hadn’t actually managed to ignite the furniture or the wood that the house was built from. Everything, including Alicinne and the cloak which had shielded her from the flames, seemed to be in perfect condition, not burnt at all. Alicinne lifted the cloak and stood, doing her absolute best to run into a neighbouring room and obtain a weapon before it was too late, but to no avail. Just as quickly as she had stood, she was on her back, fighting to catch her breath. “Michael.” she let out a pained grunt, then struggled to her feet, only to be pushed back down, now held there by a heavy boot on her chest. “Heretic.” A deep, almost inhuman voice greeted her. She stared up at the terrifying creature above her, a man that stood almost eight feet tall with skin so pale one could almost see through it. Alicinne stared at his face, but was careful not to look at his eyes. Michael’s eyes were blue, and they were gorgeous, but they had a mesmerising effect. They had a tendency to terrify those who stared into them due to the lack of humanity behind them. “How long do you wish to play this game?” Michael asked, his lips barely moving as he spoke. “Until the day I die, or until the day you do.” Alicinne struggled to speak as she felt the pressure of the boot get heavier on her chest. Would this finally be the day Michael killed her? Alicinne had been chasing him for what seemed like, and very well might have been, centuries, and each time Michael avoided her with ease, deflecting every attack, never actually harming her, just fleeing with inhuman quickness. “So be it.” Michael remarked, lifting his foot from her chest, then turning his back to her. “All it takes…” Alicinne sat up, taking deep, slow breaths, watching her opponent carefully. “Is one wrong move…” Michael still kept his back turned to her, staring at some sort of painting on the wall as he spoke. “And the cat becomes the mouse.” Alicinne lunged forward, a small blade in hand, ready to cut his throat.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Olivia!” The middle-aged woman called from the front of the house. The young girl quickly tucked the book between her legs, hiding it in the ruffles of her yellow dress. “Ma’am?” Olivia called back. “What are you doing up there?” The middle-aged woman stood, with her hands on her hips, waiting impatiently for a response. “Just daydreaming, Mother!” The middle-aged woman scoffed, then turned to walk back into the house. “Come inside, I need to wash your dress. I told you not to go up there and dirty it up, young lady.” Olivia stood, and did as she was told, but she made sure to tuck the book into a small hole in the tree. It seemed, from Olivia’s eagerness to hide what she had actually been doing, that she wasn’t supposed to be reading that book.