Wicked Chase

❖ Prologue

[dedicated to Dee (Shiloah), who writes phenomenally]

PROLOGUE  

Blackness shrouded me, it's thick cloud invading my vision and empowering my sight, turning everything colourless - black. The dark was the only thing that I was able to see. I twisted and turned, looked here and there, to my left and to my right, above my head and below, yet I could see nothing but darkness, this eerie pitch black, this void full of black suffocating my vision with its tenebrosity.  

There was no escape. There was no way out. There was just black. Everything was black. There was noticeable power that shook my invisible surroundings. I had not a clue to where I was or where I was standing, nor did I know the reason for my presence in such an outlandish and foreign place, a place of darkness, a place I felt to be disturbing and petrifying.

I was not welcome. That much I was not oblivious to.

Then I heard a voice. It was a delicate whisper, laced with sincerity and softness, weaving it's way through the mass of blackness before it reached my pale ears.

"I'll keep you safe."

I trusted the voice. I didn't know the voice, it sounded so silky and so very unfamiliar. For some reason I seemed to trust it and I felt myself reaching out to the smooth voice, searching for where it had emerged from, taking it's words to keep me safe.

I felt a hot breath fan my ear and my eyes involuntarily shut, my body reeling with pleasure. "I'll keep you safe," he repeated, his hand making silvery, smooth gestures up and down my arm, tugging my back towards his chest and securing his hand on my wrist.

A swell of pleasure overtook me, and the deafening silence was broken with my fast-paced beating heart. "Wh-who are you?" I stammered, my heart disobeying my commands to stop acting foolish and slow down.

His voice was now filled with an underlying tone of humour that awkwardly suited his husky, thick voice. "I've come here on your father's orders," came the hesitant reply that tickled my ear due to the proximity between his soft mouth - which I felt touching my ear every few seconds as he spoke - and my ear.

My brain reeled with thoughts as they always did and my lips quivered. "My father?" The last time I checked, which was not very long ago, I didn't have a father. He abandoned my mother and I, and claimed that what happened between my mother and him was not love but plain infatuation. At least that was what I had gathered from what Mum told me. I've never met my father and I was certain that if I did, the first thing I would do is slap him. And then punch him. Afterwards I'd hit him in the crotch. And then, I'll decide whether or not my ears were worth hearing out his story, his excuses and lies.

"Ah, yes." It was as if he was having a moment of realisation, that I had no idea what he was saying, that I could not understand a single word that he uttered. "All in due time, Genevieve."

And then he disappeared, his warm gliding hand gone, his body pressed against mine removed and it seemed as if he dissolved into the air, dissipating into the swirling wind of this great darkness. I was immediately engulfed with a chill and I had shuddered, the cold seeping into my skin, and moving all the way to the tips of my toes.