Whispers Under the Moonlight [Lesbian Story]

Of Spirits and Mortals [Part 3]

Ragged breathing, tattered clothing; the mud splattered across the ground with each step she took. The rain subsided not long ago and the earth had softened from the water; the moon overhead was staring them down as the wolves howled in the distance. Looking back, she saw nothing behind her from under her hood; her feet kept running and running, until she tripped and fell forward, letting go of the new-born in her hand.

Picking the small child up, she quickened her pace as her heart palpitated faster whilst her legs got heavier, tired of running for who knew how long. The small child cried in her arms as she tried to calm it as she ran, hoping not to give away their location; the child cried louder, at the pain from falling, whilst her mother tried her best to calm her down.

"Hush, my sweet child," the mother cooed lovingly despite her panting and hastened breathing, "Mommy is sorry she dropped you," she apologised as her eyes looked at her tearful child's face and gently wiped the tears away, "Please don't cry my little one."

At the sound of her mother's voice, the child slowly halted her cry and looked at her mother's face; the mother looked back at her sweet child, with the eyes of her father's dark amber reflecting from her small irises. She smiled at her child as she kept running and running until hope finally emerged in the distance. There, just beyond the forest, a mansion of great proportion stood, with walls that covered it all around.

"Hang tight, sweetie," the mother comforted her child as she brushed her small cheek with the back of her fingers, "We're almost there to safety."

With one final stretch, the mother ran towards the tall gothic gates and burst through it, then ran straight to the door. The tall mahogany doors stood before her as she began to knock at its face; her knocks turned to slams in just mere moments as she turned back to find a man with crimson eyes walking out of the forest. Fear etched itself across the woman's face as she began pounding on the door, calling out to the other end.

"Please, open the door!" she cried as the man slowly walked towards them, "I beg of you open the door!"

At her plea, the door opened and a man in his near forties greeted her with furrowed brows, "Miss, do you know what hour it is?"

"Please, grant us shelter," the mother pleaded as she looked back and saw the man almost halfway towards them, "We are being chased by something sinister and eyes coloured crimson!"

The man's eyes widened at her words, "Crimson, you say?" he repeated as he looked over them and saw the man she was referring to, "Quickly, come inside," he instructed them as the grateful woman immediately went in and the man walked out, "Stay inside, I will deal with him."

The door shut behind him and the woman sighed in relief as she looked down at her child, who was looking at her wide-eyed as though curious of what was happening. The mother merely hugged her child and looked up at the foyer; it was as grand as she imagined it to be, with a chandelier hanging above and two staircases that greeted her on each side. There was a hallway that separated the stairs that led to who knew what.

"Benjamin, where are you?" A voice thundered from the second story as the mother gasped at the frightening voice, "Have I not instructed you to make me tea for this hour?" the voice continued with irritancy riding her tone of voice, "Benjamin, I am calling you!"

A servant emerged from the hallway that separated the stairs; she had her head hung as she held a tray with a kettle and mug on it. She hurriedly ascended the stairs as she ignored the mother's presence; as she passed by the soaking mother, the mother noticed how her body quivered as though afraid of whoever it was they were serving. The tray shook with each step she took up the stairs and eventually reached the top.