ᴍᴏᴏɴʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀꜱꜱᴀꜱꜱɪɴꜱ「 ˢᵒʳᵘʸ ᵛˢ ˢᵒᵏᵉᵉᶠᵉ 」

5 [alarm]

Eeeeee. Eeeeee. Eeeeee.

That alarm was a motherfucker.

With a wave of her hand, she shut off the silent alarm and rose from her bed. And she looked like a freaking zombie.

Making sure to avoid stepping into an area where Vertina would animate, she looked into the mirror and frowned.

Fucking pineapple hair.

Rubbing a hand down her face, she donned all black clothing to make her fit in with the shadows—what she would give to be that girl in her memory with the shadows, that would be cool.

Sophie then looked out her window. Sandor was out there looking as guardy as ever, arms resting on his sword as he looked into the beyond of Havenfield. Probably thinking of methods to keep a smarter and more resourceful Sophie locked away on the property.

Cursing herself, she hadn't thought about how to leave—she knew leaving the room would alert Sandor she was awake—though in her room she was protected by a device Dex made to throw off goblin senses. The only thing was, that no matter how high her ceiling was, it was still not high enough to freefall and teleport—not to mention that sound and light emitted when she teleported would wake everyone.

And she honestly wondered why she was even going to this meeting, sure Keefe was important to her, but he left. He abandoned her—even if it were for her own 'good'.

Why did she still feel so strongly about him when he clearly didn't feel the same about her?

Rolling her eyes she knew that it was a simple answer: it was the right thing to do though. Even if it meant he was dragging her arse into a life of being associated with the bad guys.

Bad guy; it was such an immature thing to call them, but that's what they were. Bad. Guys. Bad people.

Pondering what to do, she finally came up with an idea she wasn't sure would work, but it was already eleven-twenty—so she needed to get this shit show moving.

Running in circles as fast as she could, she could only pray that she was running fast enough to teleport and that for once, the blooming clap of thunder and vivid lighting would be non-existent.

And it worked, the teleporting part at least. But she had hope because as she vanished into the void and traveled Wales, she hadn't heard or seen any thunder and lightning.

Checking her surroundings, she was still a bit early, so not wanting the disadvantage, she scoured every bit of land that used to be her safe haven—her old dancing academy.

It was still the same as it was all those years ago. Same big back door, no cameras or sensors, but a whole lot of creepy arse mirrors.

Sophie stared at her reflection.

She was different, but all the same. While there was once a small, shoulder length blonde haired girl with big brown doe eyes, now stood a not as small, middle length blonde hair girl. With dead brown eyes.

The girl in the mirror wasn't that same naive little thing. Sophie had changed and yet so many hadn't noticed the maybe not so subtle differences. How stupid they all are because while they laugh and parade around her, she slowly loses track of the past, present, and future.

She was losing it and no one could see it—because they didn't want to.

And sometimes it seemed that time just froze, and it drove her insane.

"Sophie Foster," drawled the voice of the man behind the blob of blurry memory, knocking her from her stupor. "I didn't expect you to show."

Chills ran down her spine. She knew that voice, and it wasn't just from the memories, it was from something else. A voice so familiar that lull of the tone hadn't rang in her head for an extra few seconds.