Blood & Roses

The Weight Of Shadows

The ballroom was alive with murmur, the music played on, and the dancers twirled as if nothing had happened. Until a loud scream could be heard from the room Sivana was just in.

A once-elegant evening now tainted by ghosts of violence and vengeances. A shift had settled in the air, whispers of unease traveled between guests, passing like a delicate yet undeniable storm.

Sivana is standing in the coroner among the shadows.

She would look out a massive window, moonlight spilling across her face and hitting the polished floors underneath her.

The faintest scent of whiskey and blood lingered in the air and maybe on her skin, too.

Sivana is always careful and keeps herself collected. As she waited for the police to show, her fingers grazed the cool surface of the wooden framed window, her other hand holding an empty glass of champagne, taking a sip of the drink, trying to ease herself and cling to her thoughts that seemed to drift away into the loud chatter.

Lord Vincent Roarke was dead...

And yet, the world had not stopped turning

The police would arrive at the ball, sending everyone out to go look at what happened. Sivana would play along, stepping outside with everyone.

She was able to spot one of the officer's uniforms, and it made Sivana scuff. It was shameful that their uniforms were well-made and well-cared for, while the government won't even help the people who needed clothing for their children and the new parents of this world. She wasn't too worried because they would get what was coming.

The police would make a little interrogation room and have the people sitting in another room, a side lounge, a lavish sitting room lined with mahogany bookshelves and a roaring fireplace. The flickering flames danced in the polished reflection of the grand piano, casting golden hues upon the room's ornate décor.

Sivana decided to play it safe and sit in a group of people and not by herself that she hardly spoke to.

And then there was him, again.

The man she had danced with.

He sat opposite from her, lounging with the ease of a man utterly unbothered, not an ounce of worry on his masked face. His dark eyes flickered in the firelight, watching, waiting.

Sivana forced herself not to stare for too long, but seeing someone so calm just sent shivers down her spine. Why? Why isn't he even bothered about what was happening? He was the one who looked suspicious in the group, but no one else seemed to notice he was even there.

It was even odder when she thought about not knowing his name. Did he tell her his name? What is his name?

Sivana eyes would linger a little before darting to a woman standing within the group. A detective standing between the group, staring at all of us, checking us all out.

Tall, dark-skinned, a presence that demanded attention and answers. A woman who has been through it all and has seen it all. Her badge was barely visible beneath her unbuttoned coat, her tie loosened just enough to suggest she had no patience for pleasantries.

"Detective Holts," she introduced herself, voice firm. "I'll be asking you all some questions. A man is dead tonight, as you all are aware of, and I'd rather not waste time."

No one spoke, and no one even made eye contact with the detective. Everyone stayed still and quiet.

Detective Holts surveyed them with the gaze of a woman who had long since learned how to read people.

"Well, let's start here," she sighed, pulling out a notepad and pen out of her coat pocket. "Did any of you know Vincent Roarke personally?"

A few guests muttered their denials. Sivana simply shook her head.

The detective sighed a little more roughly, mumbling something underneath their breath, showing annoyance. The detective's sharp gaze flickered toward Sivana. "You. Name?"

Sivana would look at the detective, questioning what she should do next. With her thoughts wondering, she simply replied.

"Silky Bennet."

The detective would raise an eyebrow, wondering if she was telling the truth, so she wrote it down quickly in her notepad.

"You dance beautifully, Miss Bennet," the man across from her remarked.

Sivana would tense up, wondering if he knew what happened. Oh only if she denied his little dumb dance, she wouldn't be so worried.

That's when she knew he was watching her. Again...

Detective Holts glanced between them but didn't comment as that wasn't important. She scribbled something down again before speaking once more. "Did you notice anything unusual before Roarke's death? Anything at all?"

A woman slim in a silver gown and cleared her throat delicately. "I heard a noise," she whispered but enough for the detective to hear. "Like some faint talking... in the other room. When I went to the restroom upstairs... it could have been simply a couple... in the moment..." The thin woman mumbled out.

Sivana froze, she didn't think about someone going upstairs to use the bathroom. When did she travel up there? How long has she been up there in the bathroom?

Ms. Holts jolted it down before pointing her pen back at Sivana. "And you?" she asked, turning her gaze back at her.

Sivana would meet her gaze, saying: "I was on the dance floor for most of the night. I didn't see anything." Sivana spoke with a hint of worry in her voice. She knew it was a half-truth, but no one else did as far as she knew.

Hayes studied her for a long moment before nodding. "Right. Well, until further notice, no one leaves the city. That includes all of you."

The questioning wrapped up soon after. One by one, the guests were excused. As Sivana moved toward the exit, a quiet voice stopped her.

"Miss Bennet."

Sivana would turn around slowly as the crowd of people walked past her, blocking her full view of the man.

The man was still seated, watching her with that same unreadable smirk.

"You left before we finished our conversation," he murmured.

Sivana tried to look past the group, and she answered: "Did we have more to say?"

She could see his smile growing, slow, and knowingly. "Oh, I think we will."

Why did he say it in such a way? It made Sivana's stomach coil, but what weirded her out the most, when she blinked, he was gone.

Sivana would turn around, leaving with the little crowd that was left, heading home.

The night was cold. It was damp from the little sprinkle of rain, and it was dark.

It was a long night for her, a night of accomplishment and fear.

Sivana would walk towards her house, fumbling around in her pocket, looking for her keys to enter her home. Once finding them, she unlocked the door, stepped inside, took her shoes off, and locked the front door behind her. She would take her coat off her, slowly walking into her kitchen and turning the light on.

She made herself a nice fresh out meal, taking it up to her room, eating the food on her messy bed. She would look over at a picture frame, full of different people. She eats while studying the picture. It was her so-called family, her father, and her sister, but the picture was odd. It was torn from two other pictures and glued together to make one picture.

"Hey, dad, hey sis..." She mumbled to herself.

Her eyes were watering a little before slamming the plate on her nightstand, looking up at her ceiling fan in anger. "Am I who you wanted me to be?" Sivana laughed angrily at the ceiling fan.

She slams her body into the bed, curling into the bed, tears running down her face, crying until sleep sweeps in and takes her until morning dawn.