Chapter Text
He woke up sweating and trembling. Although not knowing why, something feels wrong.
So wrong.
He was alone now, his throat was burning slightly and he felt like he took the hardest nap he's ever taken.
The sky was pitch black, the room only illuminated by the slight light that comes from the outside lights of the castle.
He stood up from his bed, his knees hurt. Each step taken towards the door shot a weird feeling up his spine. He felt like a baby who just learned how to walk.
The door was pulled open with a disturbing long creek as he was hit with the smear light from the halls' lamps, which only illuminate enough to see the way he's going.
The fear of something that might hear or attack him made him walk slowly.
He stayed still for a few seconds in the middle of the hallway, wondering which way to go. Just as he reached the staircases, a brief sound from afar made him freeze, not even having gone down one step.
It was so little and so far but enough for him to know where to go now. He assumed he heard something drop. Something sharp to be specific.
And trust him, he knows what a knife falling sounds like.
The worst part? It didn't come from downstairs, where the kitchens are located. He is sure it echoed from the floor above.
He didn't want to run, since the hard footsteps could get someone's attention. So he walked, as fast as he could while making the minimal sound possible.
When he reached upstairs, he saw a particular door only open by a few centimeters. That door would never be open at this hour. And definitely not with blood prints on the doorknob, illuminated by the dim light coming out of the room. His heart stopped, he froze.
The room was silent, no sound coming out of it, so he assumed it was empty. He has to check that room.
He slowly approached the door and made sure to not touch any blood while pushing it open carefully.
The view made his stomach curl.
There was a lady sitting on the armchair, holding a knitter on both hands. But she wasn't knitting, no, she was fucking not.
She had a huge slice across her throat. Huge. Her white night gown wasn't white anymore, now fully painted in crimson red caused by the amount of blood that is still slightly flowing out of her neck.
If he wasn't used to seeing blood he would've easily passed out at the sight, but it's true that he felt his knees getting weaker and he could swear he could feel his heart beating way too fast.
Under the women was a man, lying face down on the floor. It was like a painting, the man looked like he was crawling towards her, if only he hadn't been stopped by a knife stab on his back. Not one.
Multiple.
Adding a lot other wounds and bruises through his legs and swollen face.
There was clearly a fight here.
And whoever killed these people,
Are coming for him next.