Forest of Mischief

Twilight's Chasm

The newfound darkness surrounds Freya, enveloping her. The only light coming from the luminescent moon seemed to dip closer to earth than usual. Disoriented from the quick passage of time, Freya tries to determine exactly how late she is for her classes. Preparing herself for the inevitable lecture on the importance of responsibility and punctuality from her teacher.

That's when she hears it. All of her joints freeze at the unmistakable crunch of twigs near her. The footsteps draw closer, still behind the barrier of trees. Freya quiets her breathing, hoping that whatever – whoever – it is won't notice her and continues walking.

Any silver lining dissipates as she hears an unfamiliar deep voice urgently whisper, “Hurry up, Rory – she woke up." More leaves crunch as one of the trees rustle and a tall, human-like silhouette appears. Freya jumps to her feet, letting out a scream as she starts running. Forgetting her book and the money she earned earlier that day, she sprints to the trail out of the garden, cursing herself for allowing her to fall asleep.

The waist-length hedges and overgrown plants give her some coverage, a small sense of comfort as the pounding footsteps grow fainter. She cuts into a line of trees, ducking behind the widest one as she catches her breath. She can't remember the last time she ran like that.

Chills run up her spine, lacing their way to the nape of her neck as the deafening silence pounds in her ears. Where were the sounds of chirping crickets, the skittering of nocturnal animals, and leftover noise from the city right outside the garden? The thick darkness blooms around her and the quiet intensifies, a frigid coldness pricks at the back of her neck. The bitterness of the darkness causes her fight or flight response to kick in.

Instinctively, she runs.

The exit to the street grows nearer with every footstep, and Freya pushes herself harder. So much so that she almost falls forward as she abruptly stops. The sight of a dark figure looming in front of her, blocking her only way to safety. He steps forward, the moonlight catching only a glimpse of his tousled hair. A deep red burning in the waning light.

Panic rises as she backs away, ready to turn on her heels and escape in the opposite direction. A small scream erupts from her as she turns her head. A second towering figure silently inches their way toward her. She's trapped. She desperately searches for an escape, for any way out of the mysterious pursuers. Away from the suffocating silence of darkness that surrounds her.

Freya jumps as she feels a light tap on her right shoulder. A hand muffles her scream, and a strong arm with an iron grip wraps around her, pinning her arms at her side. She tries to twist out of it, kicking wildly behind her. Even as she makes contact, her foot bounces off and his footing stays firm.

An alluring voice, the same voice of the man that questioned her in the cafe, murmurs, “Hello, Freya." Her eyes widen and her body stiffens, she watches as the second dark figure vanishes and appears in front of her. Shadows hide his face as a heavy mist flows over her, causing her thoughts to become muddled with overpowering exhaustion as her eyes begin to close. Before they shut entirely, she catches a glimpse of mesmerizing amethyst eyes.

_______

Freya's eyes blink open, waking up slowly from the deep sleep that was filled with dreams of a meadow with pulsing flowers that looked like they were breathing. Her mind plays catch up as she looks around the unfamiliar surroundings in the dark. She jolts upright, remembering the calloused hand that clamped on her mouth. The glowing violet eyes that lured her into a peaceful sleep.

The gleam of the fire emanating from the massive fireplace across the room casts an eerie shadow as she studies the massive room that is no doubt bigger than the entirety of her house. She feels swallowed up by the enormity of it.

She hops out of bed, scrambling to find a way out. There's a window, hidden by crimson curtains, but it could be a way out. Freya hurries to it, the blood draining to her face as she looks out the endless night. Nothing, she sees nothing. Even when she looks down, all she sees is an empty abyss with no ends in sight. A deep fear resonates in her bones, but she doesn't allow herself to get swept away in it. A clear head is the only way she'll get out of this.

She makes her way to the massive wooden door. A thick, locked latch mocks her as she tugs at it. She takes out her frustration on the door, punching it and then recoiling at her throbbing hand. She pushes the anger, the panic, the dread that now consumes her deep down inside her. She looks around the room, searching for an answer. Even a clue to where she is. The style of the room is nothing like she'd seen. The stone walls, a wall covered in a vibrant amber tapestry with a pattern depicting a woodland scene, a massive tree with flowing branches in the middle of it. All of it reminds her of the description she reads about in her studies.

She's taken out of her thoughts as she hears the latch click open. She freezes, and then quickly rushes to hide. Hide from whoever is at the other side of the door. The thought of the gleaming red hair, the face of the stranger. He must have followed her. She didn't want to think about how long he watched her. Waited for her to be vulnerable.

Just the thought of him made her scramble behind the thick curtains, trying not to look at the darkness seeping through the window. The door creaks open and she hears light footsteps enter the room. And then they stop. She waits, already envisioning the curtains being ripped away, exposing her to the whims of her captors.

A woman's voice floats through the room, soft and soothing, “You can come out from wherever you're hiding." Freya doesn't dare move. The sweet voice continues, “Or, I guess you can hide behind the curtains all night."

There's no way out, and Freya knows this. Maybe she can overpower the woman and escape through the open door. She cautiously steps out from behind the curtain, tensing as she looks at the woman who is smiling at Freya. The first thing Freya notices is that she's beautiful. Her small stature is amplified by her flowing strawberry hair that perfectly frames her heart shaped face. Her nose is slightly pointy, giving her a bird-like quality.

Freya conjures her most demanding voice, “Where am I? Who are you – who took me?"

“Those are all great questions," the woman says, her voice shifting into a more casual tone instead of nurturing, “I can answer them, if you agree to join us for dinner." Us. The two men. Fear pricks Freya.

Freya barters with her, “What if you tell me what you want with me, and then I'll decide."

The dainty woman looks at Freya with gleaming eyes and purses her lips. “Fine. For starters, my name is Lilli. And while I talk, put on this dress." For the first time, Freya notices the stack of dresses in her hand. A long white linen garment with an emerald green bodice and a light brown skirt. Resembling her outfit she picked out when her morning started, but is now rustled and has dirt caked at the bottom from running through the dewy garden.

Lilli has on a similar outfit, but with a sapphire bodice that makes her matching eyes even more pronounced. She lays the dress out on the bed, and then steps near the fireplace. Giving Freya space to grab the dress without walking too close to her. Either this is some elaborate plan built on manipulation, or a genuine attempt at being kind. Most likely the former. Freya stays on guard as she walks toward the dress, feeling the light material in between her fingers.

Freya eyes a carved wooden room divider in the corner, and slips behind it. Thankful for the barrier between her and the strange woman. Before she undresses, she hears the door slam into the heavy stone. And then, a familiar voice that has haunted her since the moment she heard him in the garden. Maybe since the cafe even.

“What exactly are you going to tell her, Lilli?" The red-haired man says in a sarcastic drawl. Freya steps out from behind the divider, anger boiling in her. She locks eyes with him, hoping he can feel the rage radiating off of her at the sight of him casually leaning against her door frame. For the first time, she notices his face. His straight nose and piercing green eyes, similar to her own. Although hers has a hint of blue in them and his have flakes of amber, matching his hair. She can't help but notice how handsome he is, how strong. How incapable she is to fight. It makes her furious.

“Well look at you," he says as his eyes roam over her. “You look terrible." She wants to slap the smirk off his face.

“That's what happens when you chase someone," Freya says flatly as she glares at him.

Lilli looks between them and then focuses her eyes on the man, her bright eyes narrowing, “What did you do? I thought the plan was for her to decide to come here on her own."

He gives a passive shrug, “The plan changed."

“Well, no wonder she seems terrified," her eyes glancing over me. They're talking like she's not even there, like she hasn't just been ripped from her home, lights a fuse in her.

“I want to go home now," Freya says. Each word drips with the harsh fury inside her.

The arrogant man c***s his head, a playful frown on his face. He acts like he ponders her request, debating it in his mind. “Yeah, that's not going to happen. It was enough trouble getting you here, we're not just letting you go that easily."

Freya's face turns into a snarl, her eyes shift for a moment to the door. He catches it, “I wouldn't think about leaving." His voice is sharp, no doubt a warning to her. She wonders what they would do if she tried, causing a shudder to run through her body. Maybe the only thing she can do is play their game. First, Freya needs to figure out what exactly they're playing at.

Turning to Lilli, Freya says, “If I go to dinner, you'll tell me why I'm here?"

Her captor answers instead, “Better yet, if you come, I'll tell you why." The offer does not entice Freya one bit. But she nods, at least it's a start. His attention back on Lilli, “Make sure she bathes before coming to dinner," his eyes roam over Freya one more time before he vanishes, the door shutting behind him.

Lilli walks to the other side of the room, sliding the amber tapestry to reveal a door. Of course, Freya thinks. In the stories she's read, there are always hidden passageways linking different rooms. This one seems to lead to a bathroom with no other way out. The elegant bathtub is the focal point of the room, the massive vanity second to it, and a toilet sits in the corner. Freya feels a wave of relief, at least there's indoor plumbing in the ancient room.

Lilli gives Freya privacy. Well if her sitting in her bedroom, waiting for her, counts as privacy. She takes her time, relishing in both washing off the dirt and that she's making them wait. In that moment, Freya decides she's not going to make this easy on them – whatever this is. She's not giving up easily, no matter what it is they want from her.