HE HID BEHIND A WALL, hearing the guard walking down the hallway, covered in a slight armour as if he was some sort of knight or something. What is this the fourteen century? Grayson laughed within his head, too amused with the guard.
His blond hair had once again messed up, and he was whistling a low tone to himself. Amateur. Needless to say, the guard was tired. He had worked all day, though he knew that his shift was soon to be over even if he didn't find the prisoner, But the guard seemed like he couldn't careless about the so called prisoner, he soon will be caught even if he didn't have a part to play in it.
Grayson awaited him to pass by him, grasping the guard with his arms as he wrapped them around his neck, and placing a hand over his mouth preventing him from making a sound. There was a tightness within the guard's throat. Panic was evident within his facial features, his lungs felt just like an elastic of old underpants, just sagging instead of contracting for the next breath. He needed oxygen but Grayson prevented him from obtaining it. His attempt to remove Grayson's arms around him failed, becoming weaker as darkness overtook him. He was unconscious, dreaming a dreamless dream.
"Sorry mate" Grayson whispered.
"No hard feelings" He continued, dragging the guard's unconscious body by his legs. He'd dumped it behind a large statue hiding him from anyones view. He looked lifeless just lying there, with his head hung to the side slightly. Grayson knew all too well he was fine, his chest moved ever so slightly up and down, indicating he is still very much alive. Sleeping soundly.
As he descended deeper down the hallway, he couldn't help but gasp for the air he longed for. The air seemed thick with moisture, brittle even. As if it would snap at any given moment, and if it doesn't, he might. He could feel the fear within his chest waiting to take over. Perhaps it only wants to protect him, it sits there like an angry ball propelling him towards an anxiety he just doesn't need right now. He needed to focus on the surroundings around him. He needed to stay alert, but he was still human.
The palace had an architecture like no other. It more seemed liked an old country mansion that had been extended over the centuries. It now had four sides around a central quadrangle and over five hundred rooms. It might of taken a small army of servants to upkeep such a large abode and indeed most of the rooms were ever used.
His strides were long, and quiet. Stealthily he began to approach the stairs in front of him. He stood by climbing rose of the porch. He heard voices upstairs. He listened intently. Voices were upstairs only. He quietly opened the door. The room was empty. What the hell? Everywhere he seemed to go, the place seemed empty.
Nobody occupy any of the rooms he'd entered, but yet he heard voice, where his eyes deceiving him? Something defiantly didn't feel right, that feeling churned within him, it was a feeling he couldn't just brush off.
There are so many things that didn't add up. Mostly the lack of people that are around, it's as if everyone had left, abandoned the palace but why? Maybe because of his escape? Maybe Emily had told them who he was, what he was? And because of who is, they were scared of him, so they left. Weird.
Grayson scanned the room with his curious eyes, taking in all the detail of the room. Like how the curtain hung low and its deep red colour gave the atmosphere a slight darkness to it. It was old, like nothing hadn't been touch in years, abandoned even. Or maybe the old painting that leaned against the wall, dusty and unloved.
He ran his fingers along the gold framing. In the grime that must have taken years to form there is now a streak of gold. He holds it up. With the light struggles to make it through the grime on the window the colours are subdued, but he can already tell what the scene was within the painting. A women held a baby close within her arms, It's bright blue-green eyes staring right at him, there was a familiarity to them, but he wasn't sure why he felt that way. A lingering happiness within the both of them, the mother and child was prominent within their faces.
Sighing heavily, he dropped the painting putting it where it belonged, things here felt familiar and that feeling alone frustrated him. In this dark room, even the ticking had a relaxing feeling, as if it was a heart-beat at test. Grayson felt as if the air moved like cool water and the aroma that lingered infused him far more deeply than it did in the light of day.
He needed to leave, before they found him in here. Whilst the curtains seemed to keep the darkness within the room, the first light of moonlight bade them to open, to see the world beyond. Grayson reached towards the curtain and drew it aside in a one strong motion. A silver of moonlight spilled into the room, not enough to ignite the fiery hues of the Indian rug, but enough to navigate between the rough wooden chairs to the exit beyond. Before Grayson even opened the window he knew it was a cloudless night and the sky would be freckled with stars.
With a single movement, he climbed onto the framing of the window seal looking down. Up where he sits was way too high, the ground below look too far down to even think about jumping off it. The feeling within his gut that said, 'No', but another in his heart said, 'Yes.'
And what was he, if he didn't fight for his freedom he so much craved for. They called it apprehensive, as if we are afraid of being apprehended by something or someone, but it's all rubbish really, isn't it? When we choose to be brave instead of being the puppets of fear everything get's better. so He made the choice that's right, the one he believe in.
His body twirled and jerked as he fell. In that rush of wind, in that dance with the air under. He was the baby bird learning about gravity by falling, the wind in his face made it impossible to breathe feeling like he'd suffocated before he ever got the signal to pull the cord. Everything past by him in a blur.