Page 27 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens

Run.As though a statue, my body did not move. My legs were frozen in place.

Scream.A scream escaped my lips. The sound did not reach my ears. As though under water, my voice was silent.

The music from the ballroom grew louder.

And louder. And louder, and louder, and louder.

My eyes frantically searched for an exit when bright red covered my vision.

“Stop fighting me,” he roared into my ear.

Dozens of lifeless bodies laid all over the floor. Their empty eyes did not leave mine when Timothy’s hands wrapped around the fabric of my birthday gown.

The knife shimmered under the candle light. A woman’s empty eyes stared at me from the reflection of the blade. Her crimson lips stretched out in a slow smile.

Timothy brought the knife closer to my flesh. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Stop!” My voice finally broke through the heavy fog, forcing me awake. “Stop!” My eyes flew open, searching the room for any kind of invasion.

No one was here. He was not here. He would never hurt me again.

Nausea creeped into my being, turning my insides upside down. I barely made it to the bathing chambers before my stomach emptied itself out. I desperately needed a wash.

My skin cried in pain from all the scrubbing, though I still felt the shadows of his fingers on my flesh. My mind still felt his shadows hiding in the corners.

I needed to get out of this room.

Chapter 10

Prejudice

The castle was quiet at this late hour, only my steps and the unstopping rain interrupted the silence, as if to keep me company on this adventure.

For the first time since I’d gotten here, I was completely by myself walking through the dark corridors.

The darkness of this place made my mind wander to the scary stories I’d read as a child, sending a cool chill of awareness through my body; though I did not feel threatened, the opposite—I felt surprisingly calm. As if the darkness belonged to me, welcomed me to the depths of its secrets.

My candle lit up the walls of the castle, introducing me to the arts of this foreign place. Paintings of eerie, sinful images occupied every inch of the staircase walls, and I couldn’t help studying the art longer than I should have. The wicked and erotic nature of the work publicized so freely made my face heat.

I walked through every open door, every hall that allowed me in. Art was everywhere; I had to force myself to continue my exploration without stopping every moment to study the interesting sculptures and paintings.

The red wooden door creaked in protest when I pushed it open. Taking a step forward I entered—what looked to be—a music room. Musical instruments occupied every corner of the space: from clarinets scattered across the walls to a grand pianostanding proudly in the center. Vases with long dead jasmine took up every corner, delighting the space with its aroma.

The room was messy, books and music sheets were displayed on every surface. Empty bottles of wine gave away the owner of this room, although I couldn’t be absolutely certain.