The Sweetest Death

Eighteen+

© Amber Kalkes 2014

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Eighteen+

The room is deadly silent as I sit before the crowd. I feel like a perfect little china doll on display as I sit on my own cushion on the floor at Master Gryphon’s feet. I’ve also been styled by Vanessa to his specifications yet again. My hair is in 1920’s finger waves, my makeup heavy around the eyes and my lips painted a dark berry color. I’m dressed in white this time though, a corseted dress that has see-through white fabric that falls off my shoulders and a thick silk floor length skirt.

I feel like I’m at a wedding I don’t remember being invited to.

Or wanted to attend.

When I was abruptly awoken this morning I found myself alone. I suppose it was for the best though, if I had been awake to witness them taking Edgar from me I would have been less than dignified. I probably would have cried again, adding to my already expansive collection of tears already shed. I’m becoming quite pathetic but to be fair I am constantly being put into distress.

After this I’ll need a weeklong sleep just to collect myself.

Shifting on the cushion under me I hear the clinking of the chain on the marble floors. You see, even thought Gryphon knows he’s got me by the symbolic balls he still feels the need to have me chained to his side, literally. An extremely uncomfortable steel collar is around my neck with the chain leading to Gryphon’s hands. I feel like the possession I am like this and it only makes me hate this guy even more than I did before.

“I have a gift for you.” Gryphon tells me quietly though I’m sure everyone in the room can hear him.

I stiffen hoping against hope that it’s Edgar alive and well. “Oh?”

“Yes. I think you’ll like it.”

“What is it?”

Gryphon’s black eyes flash and he sits up straight in his ornate gold and onyx throne. He is, melodramatically dressed in all black like some dark king reigning over his soul sucking court of immortals. True, Edgar too likes to wear black but I hate Gryphon enough to even hate the way he dresses. Gryphon lifts a singular hand in the air before a commotion is heard in the back of the room until it moves to the front of the crowd.

There in all his glory is Henry, the one who has damned us all to this fate. He looks a bit disheveled in his maroon dress shirt, black suit pants and matching black suit jacket. He shrugs off the arms holding onto him and smoothes back his honey blonde hair in a motion all too smug for my liking. Henry bows stiffly before Gryphon but the weight of his slate eyes comes to land on me quickly.

A smirk plays on his lips as he rights himself again. I clench my jaw and my hands into fists as I conjure up all kinds of ways to remove that pretty little head of his off his shoulders. Of course, I’m brought out of my murderous thoughts when I feel Gryphon’s breath on my neck.

“Do you like your gift?”

“He’s my gift?” I ask incredulously.

Gryphon’s lip twitches, “Yes. I thought that since you will be beside me as I run this coven I should show you good faith. He is yours to do what you want with him.”

“Whatever I want?” I ask, slightly appalled by quickly he can get rid of someone without a second thought.

“Yes.”