"Pulvis et umbra sumus... Nota res mala, optima," the sweet yet oddly disturbing voice made Alec frown. Alec was less enthusiastic about babysitting troublemakers, but between the annoying red-haired mundane and the tantalizing brown-haired mundane, who didn't seem as annoying or repugnant as her peer, he preferred the latter. Especially when she began whispering slowly in the ancient languages of mankind. Alec's brows furrowed, disturbed by the way her body remained still as she enchanted, uttering the words in tiny breaths.
"There once was a girl with pointed tails,
She ran and ran to the end without trails,
Her voice rang out happily through this tale,
Her name was Amara of Vale."
Imani found herself lost, trapped within the confines of her own mind. Once again, she was unable to break free from the torment of her thoughts. She stood in a mysterious forest, where the towering trees arched triumphantly, mocking her presence. The leaves rustled together, creating a haunting melody that echoed in her ears, while her heart pounded relentlessly within her chest. Where was she? Where was Clary? The urge to scream her sister's name burned in her throat, but she couldn't find the voice to release it.
A woman rushed past her, oblivious to Imani's existence. It was as if she passed through Imani as if she were a mere hallucination. Determined to make her presence known, Imani called out to the woman, her voice reverberating through the forest. The woman's skin glistened in the moonlight, adorned in an elegant yet somber black nightgown. Clutching a baby close to her chest, she appeared desperate, struggling to maintain control. Her long, curly hair cascaded around her, and her feet moved swiftly, bare against the forest floor.
As fear chased the woman, the darkness of the forest intensified. The leaves rattled with a cacophony of sound, drowning out all else. Laughter, sinister and haunting, echoed in the distance, seemingly originating from multiple sources. Imani felt a profound sense of unease, as if her senses were heightened, amplifying every sound. Amidst the chaos, the cries of the baby grew louder, piercing the air with a sense of anguish and desperation.
Imani pleaded with herself internally, chanting a mantra of wakefulness. She urged herself to escape this twisted reality, repeating the words over and over. "Wake up, Imani. You need to wake up," she whispered to herself, desperately seeking a way out. The wailing of the child intensified, blending with the howling wind and the ominous whispers of the trees, enveloping Imani in a suffocating grip of terror.
"Amara," Imani's body stiffened, her heart pounding against the walls of her ribcage at the sound of the eerie yet mesmerizing voice. Each word seemed to carry an ethereal weight, as if it held the power to transcend reality itself.
"Wake up." The voice echoed through the depths of her mind, resonating with a haunting urgency. Imani's eyes widened, her body frozen in anticipation. The familiarity of the voice sent shivers down her spine, stirring a mix of fear and curiosity within her. Who was calling her name? What did it mean?
"Wake up."
Imani's eyes flashed open, momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness of the room. She instinctively closed them and quickly reopened them, adjusting to the light. Her gaze darted around the unfamiliar surroundings, taking in the sight of a tall boy with dark black hair being pushed out of the room by a girl with silky black hair. A surge of urgency coursed through Imani as she realized something was missing from her pocket. Her heart raced in her chest, and she knew she had to find it before the boy turned around and noticed her.
Her eyes scanned the room frantically, searching for any object that could be of use. The table yielded no results, and a brief glance revealed only a useless lap of some sort. Frustration and anxiety surged within her as her mind raced, desperately trying to come up with a plan. But then, her attention was captured by a distinct shock of red hair in the distance.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers of an angel
Fanfiction"There is no greater sorrow than to recall happiness in times of misery" ― Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy Imani Fairchild should have run as fast as her breath would allow, leaving her feet to bleed against the floor. She should have listened to...
