The Messengers- Chapter 1

Rated 12+ for a rather graphic murder :3 

So. This used to be called Pens and Knives. All that's left over from that first draft of a novel is the first paragraph of the prologue thingy. I really really like this idea, and if I may toot my own horn, the plot is quite original (even if you don't see it now.)

Now, before you start complaining about how you don't understand anything and how you're so confused, please be paitent. It's the first chapter. I'm introducing the characters, making a little excitment. You'll get your info dump in the next couple of chapters :P Enjoy! Thanks for all reviews and likes :D

The Messangers

Prologue-

Evan bent down over his papers, reading from a text book that lay open to the 345th page. He was scribbling hard and fast, His eyes flying between the notebook and the textbook. She walked up behind him, her heart beating faster than it ever had before. Evan didn’t hear her faltering footsteps, muffled by the thick green carpet. She gripped the knife in her hand, tighter than she had ever held anything in her life. Tears were streaming down her face and into her long brown hair. She lifted her arms and stabbed down, piercing a wound in his back.

Blood spurted, falling thickly onto the carpet below, staining it crimson. His body was seized with convolutions, he leaned back until her caught sight of her face, tear stained, holding the knife above her head, preparing to stab his venerable neck. The blood flowed, streaming in little rivers across the floor, and pooling at the edges of the carpet. His face paled, and then he fell, his hands falling to his sides, lifeless and unmoving. She pushed his head over, flipping him to his other cheek and bent down, kissing his still warm lips. “Forgive me Evan,” she whispered, and then she walked away, her black stilettos splattered with warm scarlet blood.

His glassy eyes seemed to follow her as she stepped to the door, opening it. She didn't mean to look back, but she did, staring at the form of her lover. The person she had wanted forever. Now he lay on the floor, his neck still spilling blood, his eyes fogged over with death. She suddenly couldn't move, and felt frozen in place, her heart racing harder than it ever had before. She couldn't move her hand from the doorknob, couldn't take the small step that would get her out of this accursed room. As she struggled to move, her skin began to crawl with electricity, and her hair stood up on end, the shiny sheets become crimped and stiff. If she had been able to move, her eyes would have widened, her mouth opened. Because as phenomenal as what was going on inside her, what was happening to Evan was even more amazing. He was surrounded by golden light, that glowed softly, warmth radiating off it. Even though the golden light was warm, she felt like she was freezing, her whole body trying to shiver against the invisible bonds. Evan was hovering above the ground, straight up. Spinning like a top, The gold light became brighter and hotter, tendrils lashing out, coming close to her face each time. She wished she could run, avoid the hot fire tongues that were reaching out to devour her. How had Evan not burnt to a crisp by now, and fallen blackened to the floor? He seemed to glow just as bright as the fire, his skin pink as a newborn's, his wide blue eyes opened and staring. Staring right at her, flickering in the light. She wanted to close her eyes, wanted to look away, but she was still frozen, and the electricity was still running up and down her whole entire body, making goosebumps across her skin. And as quickly as it had begun, it ended. The golden light began to die, flickering blue then disappearing completely. The entire room, which had been glowing only  few minutes before, was suddenly dark. In fact, everything was dark. She couldn't see, her eyes seemed to be being

pressed down by heavy weights hanging from her eyelashes. The bonds that had formerly caused her only annoyance, became painful, tightening and tightening around her body. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't see, and she started to panic, trying to move. Every single time she tried to move her arms, the indiscernible shackles tightened. And then, all went still, and she didn't feel again.

Chapter 1-

Allyn rolled over, her face pressed against cold stone. Her whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck, sore and broken. I wonder if I can open my eyes, she thought, trying to move. Her eyelids struggled to open, hanging low and heavy. She moaned as she attempted to move her other body parts, but the pain that shot up her arms, legs and spine caused her to be completely immobile. Tears squeezed out of her swollen eyes, and her face burned red hot from the water. Trying to get her raging emotions under control, She forced her eyes to open wider, and they roamed around, taking in her surroundings. She was in a dark stone room, sooty walls growing taller and taller and finally disappearing into the darkness above. In the corners of the tiny room, hay was piled, stinking of decay. She tried to move again, and this time, only a dull pain shot up her spine. Even though it only made her groan in pain it did make her head spin, and her stomach lurch. Don't try to move, said a voice inside her head. Rest. Never being someone who was very good at listening, Allyn moved anyway, sending a wave of heat across her body, and making her belly flip double time. She had just enough time to lift her head before she was sick, bile splattering across the tiles. She rolled over, away from the sick and lay on her back, trying to breathe and take control of her raging senses. Her mouth and throat were burning, her stomach rolling around in discomfort and her whole body shaking from the exertion. "Help me." She said out loud, her voice shaking from lack of use. No one answered her, no one seemed to be there. Where was here, anyway? How had she gotten here? She didn't remember anything after stabbing Evan. A long golden blur was all she could think off. Had the police caught her? Was that why she was in this room? They knew she had murdered him? But no, only cells from the 1800's would be in this state, with hay in the corner. Then where was she? Had she wondered out of Evan's apartment and been kidnapped by someone? Her heart began to race as she considered the possibilities. But before she could decide which of them was actually probable, and the rest pure fear and panic, the door at the far side of the room swung open. The dark room was flooded with firelight flickering across the walls, shadows dancing after the light. Slowly, Allyn moved to where she could see who had entered, ignoring her body’s protests. Standing in the doorway, framed by light stood a man with white sheets of hair, that hung down his back. He was wearing clothes that looked like they were from the 1400’s, a tunic and tights, with a large belt tied over it. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark, and his hair shone like pearls. Everything about this man glowed. Even his skin made him look like he had been bathed in moonlight. “Greetings.” said the man, his voice silky and quiet.

“Hi.” She replied. Her voice was at odds with his. Where his was as smooth and melted chocolate, hers was rough and parched, cracking from lack of moisture. He raised his white eyebrows at her and stepped into the room, his shoes making soft lapping noises on the tiles. “Do you know what’s going on?” He asked, standing over her and looking down.

“No idea.”

“Damnaret, Magister.” He muttered, his eyes scanning her bruised body. “Numquam exponit aliquid.” To Allyn’s surprise, she understood what he was saying, Damn the Master, he never explains anything. Her eyes widened and she stared at him.

“Who’s the master?”

He looked at her startled, and shook his head after a moments pause. “No one. Absolutely no one. You should probably come with me now.” He held out his hand, and she reached a shaking hand to take it, gripping it loosely. He pulled her up and she fell against him, her legs hardly able to stand her weight. “What happened to make me so sore?” She mumbled, moving slowly with him to the doorway.

“All in due time.” He replied shortly, jerking her along the corridor outside the room. “It’s time to make you suitable.”

“Suitable? What--”

“Surely, Ms. Allyn, you don’t want to stay dressed like that here, do you?” He said, shaking his head in disgust. She looked down at herself. Her black high heels, splattered in dried blood. Her long red soft hair hanging in a crumpled mess. Her skin stinking of sick. “No. I would rather not stay like this.”

“I thought so.” He continued to drag her down the corridor, passing closed doors. Allyn tried to look through their small windows to see inside, but the man guiding her was almost running now, his long hair bouncing against his back. They came to the end of the corridor, which was lit by torches, and stone just like the room she had been in. He yanked open a door, and pushed her into it, his eyebrows drawn together in annoyance. I wonder what he’s so angry about, she thought, watching him walk across the room to another door. This room was brightly lit, with a fire in a large fireplace, and torches every few feet along the walls. There was a stone bench built into the wall farthest from her, and stone shelves on the wall right beside her. On the shelves were pots of different things, bottles and boxes all labeled neatly. She stepped closer to them, reading the labels. BELLULUS, PULCER, SUSPENDISSE, OCULOS, CAESARIES, TERGUS, AUSCULUM. Before Allyn registered that she understood what all of those words meant, the man was back. “This is Doctor Shortz. He’s here to...improve you.”

Allyn shivered at the chill that came along with those words, and nodded, unable to open her mouth to ask exactly what ‘improving’ meant. Doctor Shortz was a short man, with a black goatee and mustache. His eyes were bright green, and just like the man’s, they seemed to glow. Unlike the man, his skin didn’t glow as if he bathed in moonlight, but instead looked as if he sat in the sun all day. His tan skin was at odds with the man’s as well. Such polar opposites, she thought, looking at them standing side by side. The man was scowling, his white eyebrows knitted together. While Doctor Shortz had an easy smile that didn’t seem to quite reach his eyes. “Hello, Miss Allyn.” He murmured. Allyn couldn’t answer, just stared at him. His voice was like a lazy cat’s purr, warm and rich, washing over her ears. Was everyone in this place perfect? “Come, sit on this bench here.” She followed him robotically, her legs moving stiffly. The stone bench was as uncomfortable as laying on the floor had been, but once again, Allyn found she couldn’t say a word. Doctor Shortz had a quick, whispered discussion with the man, and then started piling different instruments and pots onto a rolling tray. As he turned back to Allyn, the man slipped out the door, shooting Allyn a pitying look before closing it loudly. Doctor Shortz pushed the cart up to the bench and smiled. “Could you change into this gown, please?” He said, holding out a paper gown. “Just go through that door over there and there’s a little curtained dressing room.” She nodded mechanically and stood up, taking the gown out of his hands and following his instructions. Once she returned, he gestured for her to sit down. “I’m just going to give you a mild sedative. It’ll put you to sleep for a couple of hours.”

She nodded, trying to speak but really just issuing a small animal sound.  He told her to lay back, and pushed a needle through her skin. She felt a slight pinch, and then she fell into a dreamless dark sleep.