Something I started on Christmas based on a dream of mine. Not sure where it's going, but I'm just tagging along for the ride right now. Any thoughts or comments are much appreciated. Thanks! (:
*Rated 12 for mild violence
Stormbringer
Part one: Cora
Cora was a conundrum. She was the type of girl who would calmly order a lineup of torturing and executions during her afternoon tea, but would scream at a pitch to make eardrums burst at the slightest glimpse of a spider sitting innocently on its web. She got horribly queasy at the sight of blood, and always made sure she had a book to surreptitiously read during the monthly gladiator tournaments. However, despite these idiosyncrasies, no one could deny that she was not someone to cross.
Especially at two o’clock in the morning.
The guard hesitated, took a breath, muttered encouragingly empty words to himself, and rapped lightly on the door.
No reply.
He knocked a little harder.
Silence screamed back at him.
One more time, then it’ll be Rob’s turn, he told himself, and knocked again.
Only this time, he knocked on air. The door had been flung open, and before he could regain his stiff posture, he was staring into the irate face of Mistress Cora.
“What.” Somehow, she was able to hiss the word so that it hurt his ears more than if she had yelled it.
“Er, there’s something funny gone on in the Tower. Thought you should know.”
“Which Tower? There’s more than one here, man!”
He forced his gummy mouth to open fully so he could reply. “Th-the South-Southwest one, Mistress.”
Cora frowned. It was the type of frown that made a flower shrivel, or the sun duck behind a cloud, or a very nervous guard feel on the verge of fainting.
“South-Southwest, eh?” Her face suddenly cleared. “Most interesting. Most excellent. I shall be out in a minute.”
The guard blinked in relief as she slammed her door in his face. Well. Not bad after all, then. His heart slowed its beat to one notch slower than Sheer Terror and he turned to leave.
Creak, said the door, and Cora’s voice followed him. “Oh, and because you interrupted me at such an ungodly hour…”
A horrible presentiment had just begun to grow in the guard’s brain, but before it could fully develop, there was a whoosh, a thud, a very surprised “Urgle!” and then a thud as the lifeless body fell.
Cora kept an eye on the corpse, to make sure it was truly dead and not contemplating the idea of coming back to life. It stayed motionless, though, and as a small trickle of blood started to run from the back of his head where the dart had hit, Cora felt the usual fluttery feeling in her stomach.
“I think I need some tea,” she mused aloud. “Peppermint would do nicely.” She closed the door, and the rats who were hiding in the dark corners of the hallway converged on the carcass.
