SHARDS (Not Edited Yet)

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Hey you all! I finally finished my next chapter, it's probably one of the longest I've had so far. If you had to choose, which chapter is your favorite? What about the characters?

Bianca (POV)

Right after I jumped through that portal that Ellen created all I could think of was what had happened that day. Snapping out of my thoughts, up ahead I can see the white tunnel coming to a stop, the next thing I know I'm standing in the middle of what looks like a large throne room. I gasp, the walls are made of what looks like white stone, and the ceiling, I crane my neck up higher for a better look, the ceiling looks like it's at least fifty feet above my head. Two comfortable chairs rest at the very far point of the room, steps leading up to them. Beautiful stained glass decorates the walls behind them, shining red, blue, green, and all the shads of colors you could think of, putting the two chairs even more into the spotlight of attention. The room illuminates from the sun's light reflecting off of the other windows. It had this homie feel to it which was a little odd considering how large this room was.

Before I could examine it any further James, Julie, Thomas, and Anna step out of the portal closely followed by Ellen who held Megan. The portal closes up, leaving us standing here in the cavernous room. Ellen gently places Megan on the floor, taking in her appearance I realize how much Megan had physically gone through today. Her face had a large gash right above her right eyebrow, the crimson blood soaking into her silvery-white hair staining it a bright pink, one of her arms was coated in a layer of blood witch now was all dried up with little flakes of it starting to peel away. Farther down I noticed several bruises dotting her arms and legs. A large swell in one of her ankles told me that she had probably broken it. Then I remembered the claw marks on her back, I sigh.

Before I can dwell on all of the injuries, Ellen stands up suddenly with Megan back in her arms and starts walking towards large massive double doors that I hadn't noticed before. Not knowing what else to do I follow, everyone else right on my tail. As Ellen nears the doors they suddenly open as if the doors had sensed her, the doors slow to a stop with a deep thud.

As soon as I step foot in the next room my feet sink into a plush carpet, the color reminded me of a deeper shade of a lilac flower. As we walk down the hallway I admire the artwork on the walls. Beautiful oil paintings of waterfalls, lakes rivers, rain, oceans, plants breaking the surfaces of the soil, trees in the sunlight, fire crackling, sparks flying everywhere in the night, decorate the walls. I noticed that they all seemed to be based on the elements I found a little odd, but I paid no mind. I could spend hours examining one of these paintings and still wouldn't have caught all of the details.

One of them catches my eye, it's a painting of a beach. The blue waves crashing against the shore, white frothy water slides up the beach as if desperately trying to escape the ocean. The sand itself is a tinted white color, bits of black and tan sand mixed in. Just looking at the painting with the sun beating down on the sand that if you were to step through the painting and onto the sand it would be scorching hot.

Someone calls my name, tugging me out of my trance I realize I must have stopped walking. I scurry along the hallway to catch up with the others, but that painting still on my mind. Something feels familiar about that painting like I have seen something similar to it before when I was younger or maybe when I was at an art museum once. I just couldn't seem to place a finger on it which frustrated me a little.

Suddenly I bump into a wall, looking up I realize that it's Thomas. I give him an apologetic look, he shrugs and turns back to Ellen. That's when I realize we have stopped walking, we're in another room, this one has a large circular table in the center, two people around the table are both are turned towards us. Ellen speaks, directing her voice toward the two at the table, "Dirk!", a middle-aged man with what I guessed was a height of around 6'2, about forty years old looked up from his staring at the bunch of us into the eyes of Ellen, his greasy black hair sliding over his face as he turns.