"I warned you, Kristina," he said, leaning closer to me, his hand scorching my wrist, his silver eyes darkening to a stormy grey. "I told you what would happen if you defied me."
Fire was racing up and down my arm. The rose necklace burned at my thr...
Song: The Phantom of the Opera from the musical... The Phantom of the Opera. *shocked screaming*
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~ Kriss Darcy ~
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I hovered on the edge of consciousness.
Vaguely, I was aware of moving down a long, dark tunnel. It was too dark to see a thing. Too dark to even try.
Next, I noticed I wasn't moving on my own. My legs were lying limp, my arms dangling into the darkness, and my head rested against... something. My knees and back were being held up by... something. There was a rhythmic swaying, almost like I was...
Oh my god.
I was being carried.
Somebody - or something - was carrying me through this dark abyss.
A memory. The possessive, jealous tone in the Ghost's voice as he questioned me about Jase. His last cryptic words as the lights winked out and my bedroom was plunged into darkness. The sound of my mirror disappearing from the wall. A figure approaching me, grabbing my wrist, muffling any cries for help I might attempt to make. Recognition as the figure spoke to me. Fear, confusion, and betrayal overwhelming me until I passed out.
I was so naive.
Terror ripped through me then, and I forced myself to keep still. I had no idea where I was, and could not see where I was going if I managed to get away. Staying put was the best thing to do in this moment. I made a conscious effort to keep my limbs relaxed, to not let myself tense up, which would alert the figure that I was awake and well aware that I was being... kidnapped?
A million questions were racing through my head, and I focused on them. Why did the figure speak with the Ghost's voice? Was the figure actually the Ghost? Why did he choose now to show himself in his corporeal form?
And the scariest, unanswerable question: Was the Ghost actually a ghost?
I lost control over my muscles then, which tensed up with that final thought. The figure let out a sigh, but didn't set me down, even as I gave up on keeping still and began struggling.
