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I snuggled up closer to Sol, as he curled one arm around my body, and with his other hand stroked his fingers through my hair. In a matter of moments, my body submitted to exhaustion, and I drifted off to sleep.
Sol and I must have spent the whole day sleeping in each other’s arms, because when I woke up, I glanced at the clock and saw it was almost six-thirty. Sol paused for a moment, and I thought he’d heard me call out, but my hope was dashed as his focus returned to the hole Catherine had just vanished into.
I didn’t even pause to think what would happen if I followed him, and strode forward, passing my former self on ground. As we approached HQ, Lettie produced a long, thick black coat with a hood, and a mask to cover her face. She donned the items, so that she was completely shrouded in black, and safe from the sun’s harmful rays.
“I don’t have my full strength, so you will have to help me to my coffin, please,” Lettie said, her voice muffled by the mask she wore. Her face was completely concealed, with even her eyes covered by those wraparound sunglasses skiers wore. As I stepped down into the hole Catherine and her zombies had escaped into, I was surprised that I could see perfectly clearly. The tunnel had been black as night when I’d stared down into it before. But now, with Lettie’s vampiric blood surging through my veins, it was like I was walking through a field on a brightly lit day.
Everything was dark as I waited for the end to come. Would I feel the moment Catherine absorbed my soul and killed me? Without a soul, what would happen – would I never make it to the golden city where I’d spoken with my ancestor?
A skeletal and decaying corpse shambled towards me, and as it neared, I realized with disgust it was Pierre.
I wanted to throw up and had just a moment to duck out of the way before the corpse of the once handsome male model lurched at me. When I made my way downstairs for breakfast the following morning, I was surprised to see the bird cage on the table. After healing Charlotte the day before, I figured I’d advanced past working with the parakeets.
As I stepped in closer a cold feeling settled over me, and I realized all the parakeets were dead. When I woke up the following morning my head was pounding and I felt dehydrated, like I’d drunk too much alcohol the night before. The headache didn’t help with my still-confused thoughts about the Ancile. I’d slept badly the night before, my dreams filled with horrific scenes – Morgan burning the Ancile building to the ground and killing everyone inside. Bernard transforming into a giant, black grizzly bear and ripping my throat out with his teeth. Sol swinging his huge great sword at me.
Catherine carefully lifted the parakeet from its cage and placed it on the table in front of me.
“I know you can see a living being’s aura, just like I can. Do you see the bird’s aura now?” she asked. I watched the parakeet hop across the table in front of me, and just like before I saw the white shimmering of the aura grow stronger and stronger. I swallowed around a lump in my throat and nodded. Catherine smiled proudly. “Good. Focus on that aura. Join it to your own so that you and the parakeet are connected. You will know when you achieve this, because it will feel like tiny, invisible threads between you and the bird.” |
Support my writingWhile The Order of the Ancile is in its web fiction serial format, I intend to keep it free to read. I write because I love to, and there are stories that NEED to be told. Archives
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