YIN - PROLOGUE

49 1 3
                                    

The walls dripped and the sky cried as Alyx moved through the castle, tripping over loose rubble and skirting around broken clusters of wood. The building was open to the sky and the cloud's tears poured in, pinning her nightdress to her skin and flattening her golden blonde hair against her scalp.

The moon was shining from behind the clouds, a glowing orb riding across the sea of roiling dark clouds, like a ship doomed to the depths of the ocean. It was too dark to see anything clearly, but Alyx could at least see her hand in front of her face and the walls just enough to not crash into them.

She slid her hand over the walls to guide herself through the broken castle, with the fingers of her other hand clutching at the hem of her dress and lifting it up as she wandered through pools of water with bare feet. She knew not where she was going, but she knew, she just knew that there was somewhere she had to be.

It's important, her mind told her. You must go, you must find it – even though exactly what she sought she had not the faintest clue.

Find it, the castle walls echoed around her and her fingers ran over moss, prickly leaves and drips of water that cascaded down the stone like small waterfalls.

She clambered the steps and wandered back down again.

She searched through the whole bottom floor and clambered to the second once again.

She wandered the halls and avoided the gaping holes in the floor and wandered back down the steps.

She got down on her hands and knees and felt through the puddles, searching for anything hidden beneath their rippling surfaces.

She stumbled around corners, rubbing at the walls and fitting her fingers through small cracks, searching, searching.

She stood on the steps and walked up and down them countless times as if she walked them one more time they would open up and lead to something below she hadn't seen.

She crouched in darkened corners and felt for hidden latches, scrambled through piles of rubble with aching fingers and wandered the halls again and again and again.

Find it, the walls echoed. Find it.

She dug through the pockets in her nightdress and ran her fingers through her hair.

She pulled at her earrings and ran her tongue over her lips, rubbed her finger under her nails.

She yanked at her dress and ripped the seams, running her hand over the cloth and a hand over her face.

Find it.

She walked the halls again.

I'll look just once more, she told herself. This time I'll find it, I'm sure.

Then she ran her fingers over the walls and her hand caught over the door handle like she had so many times before.

And even though she knew it led out and not to another room, she opened it and flung it open on its hinges.

It creaked, screaming on rusted metal and she brought a hand to her brow and squinted out into the rain.

It thundered down all around her, masking the sky and the ground in crashing walls of water that gave the world a smudgy grey sheen.

She stepped beyond the threshold with her fingers still around the handle, then let her hand fall to her side and wandered out into the rain.

Around The ClockWhere stories live. Discover now