Naomi~
He moved away and said nothing before he turned on his heel and walked into the house. He did not shut the door so she followed him. As she walked with him deeper into the long hallway, she heard the door shut and shuddered. He on the other hand did not seem fazed and continued to walk. She tried to speed up but her body would not let her. She stopped, trying to get her footing but her body had finally had enough. She fell to her knees as the man stopped and with her blurred vision she saw him turn around. He did not try to hold her up, instead, he just looked on as she lost consciousness.
****
She opened her eyes to a familiar place, a cabin. Two people were talking and laughing somewhere but she could not see them. It sounded like a woman and a man. As though she was experiencing sleep paralysis but there is no dark figure in sight. The woman and man continued and seemed like they were below her. There were knocks heard at a door. They stop conversing as someone answers the door. There is silence before a scream. Then commotion ensues as loud noises are heard. Someone was throwing things around downstairs. Despite all of this Naomi found herself unable to move. The door of the room is opened with a bang and in came, a woman drenched head to toe in blood. She runs to her but Naomi is unable to see her face because of the blood.
"Darling, you have to hide now," She said hurriedly but in a hushed voice. "Don't cry."
But Naomi found herself crying and unable to stop even though she was told not to.
"Mimi, please don't cry," The woman begged. Looking behind her at the doorway quickly. She put her index finger gently on Naomi's lips. "Don't cry." She said again.
This time it worked and Naomi stopped crying. The woman carries her and opens a drawer which she stuffs her in.
Next, the woman ties some clothes together to make a rope before she ties it to the window and lets it drop to the ground below. She then closes the drawer as another person enters the room.
Naomi couldn't see what was going on since the draw was closed but could still listen as she kept quiet.
"Where is she?" A man roars. It was not the same male voice she heard before. This one was menacing.
The woman kept quiet and the man stomped across the room and according to what Naomi heard he was manhandling her.
"Let me go," The woman said. "She is already gone, you bastard." She lied.
The man walked over to the window. Each stomp gets louder and closer to Naomi's location. "Shit!" He cursed. "You damn bitch,"
The woman shrieked as he took her out of the room. But the woman whispered something sweetly but quickly, Naomi could not make out what she said. The man finally took her down the stairs while Naomi stayed quiet in the drawer.
Naomi awakened from the nightmare with a gasp as if she was being submerged.
"Easy there," A soft voice said. "Don't strain yourself any further."
Naomi followed the voice to the fireplace where its owner stood. The strange woman was there wringing a cloth into a bowl.
It takes a while for it to sink in that she was not on the mat in her cramped little house. She was on a king-size bed in a large room with a fireplace. She sat up too fast and felt every nerve in her body scream out in agony.
The woman comes to her side and puts the damp warm cloth on her forehead. "How do you feel?"
She blinks at her. "Abel..." She said, "Where...?" She tried to get up again and find out that she has a sling on.
The woman renders a soft smile and strokes her hair. "He is with my sister." She answered.
Realisation dawned on her. Maybe that was why they were so identical "Twins?" She asked.
The woman chuckled warmly, she was a stark contrast to how she had behaved when she was being received. "Yes,"
"Oh..." Naomi tried to relax again but something did not feel right. When she decided to come to the castle to ask for help she did not know what she had expected but it was definitely not this. It felt homely. Maybe a little bit too homely. "Where is he?" sitting up again.
"You should really be careful, your arm is badly broken," Worry revealed in her voice. "But I managed to fix it and sling will do the rest. The bullet wound is thankfully shallow."
Why did she care so much? Naomi wondered.
"He is in the other room,"
Naomi was thankful but suspicious. If the woman was dangerous she would have to wait to strike because of her condition. She laid back down as the woman continued to use the cloth to mop her body.
"We don't get visitors here," The woman lamented. "It is nice to let someone in."
"Why don't you get visitors?"
The woman raised her head in confusion. "You have not heard the stories?" She asked
"I have," She answers. "A bit of it that is. Gossip does not really interest me."
She looked at her and gave a hopeful smile. "You call it gossip, don't you believe it?"
Naomi furrowed her brows and looked to the other side. "I don't know. Don't you?"
She sighed. "He is my nephew so you can guess what my answer will be."
Naomi did not respond, instead, she thought about what she had just said.
"So you are a killer?" The woman asked out of nowhere.
Naomi turned back to face her and sat up at the speed of light. "No! I am not."
"I heard them call you that." The woman said defensively.
"And you believe that?" Naomi found herself hurt. No one believed she was innocent.
"Should I?"
"No..." Then it clicked. It was a rhetorical question. She would not have let her in or treated her if she believed what she heard from the mob.
"I did not in the first place." She said almost proudly.
"Why?" Naomi had spent hours trying to convince those she had known all of her life that she did not commit the atrocious deed of killing two grown men in cold blood. They did not budge and almost ended her. If they did not trust nor believe her then no one would. She was wrong, someone did. A woman from the devil's castle did.
"Because I know someone who was called the same but..."
"Mary," A husky voice interrupted.
The two turned to it and there he stood, leaning on the doorway, his arms crossed in front of him. Speak of the devil, Naomi thought.
"Sebastien," Mary got up.
The man that they called the devil had a name and it was Sebastien. He walked up to the bed.
"She is better now." She said as if he had asked. He gave a half-hearted shrug as if he was unconcerned.
"Matilda needs your assistance." He said.
"Okay then," She turned back to Naomi and squeezed her hand briefly before leaving.
She was alone. With him. He moved closer and again his strong metallic smell hit her like a backhanded slap. Naomi had morals and being grateful when it was warranted was one of them. Even if he was called a devil. He had not acted like one. Yet. She alerted herself. "Thank you,"
He did not speak, his eyes bored into hers but she did not look away. Her hands trembled slightly, her mouth felt dry and she swallowed twice to clear it. She tried again but the words seemed stuck on her tongue. She could only stare back until they burst out of her. "For not harming me."
His eyes moved, they narrowed. "Is that what you expected of me?"
She bit her lip, wishing she could take back the words and rephrase them. "Well, you called yourself the devil." She countered.
"And you don't think I am one?"
It seemed he had a habit of talking in questions, she noted. "To be honest," She said. "I don't think so."
"Um..." He leaned in closer without sitting on the bed.
This time she turned away and closed her eyes tight.
He whispered this time, his lips just a few inches away from her ear. "What if I touch you?"
He could turn people silver with one finger, one finger to her skin would be death. She squirmed away.
He moved too."Your brother is really sick," He said, his tone too nonchalant to the words that bore so much weight in her heart.
She turned to him wide-eyed in panic, already starting to push off the covers. "Please take me to him." She pleaded.
"He is in good hands, don't worry about your little head." The evenness of his tone irked her. Even If not all the rumours were true, one did seem to be plausible. He was indeed unfeeling.
"You must have known, I assume," He continued. "The ulcers were palpable enough."
He had his eyes on the fireplace. He did not blink as if engaging in a staring contest with the flames.
"I knew," she said, trying to calm herself.
"Yet you held him like that?" His voice was accusatory.
"Like what?" she questioned, finding herself offended by his tone.
"You could have contracted what he has," he continued.
Naomi bit back a sharp retort. She was suddenly wary of sparring with him. "He is my brother," She said plainly.
"Still..." He turned away from the fire and to her. "I can not comprehend such utter stupidity." He told her contemptuously in a low voice.
"Comprehend it?" She asked incredulously. "I don't expect you to since just like a devil, you are too cold-hearted to understand!" She spat, her eyes blazing with a fury that matched his coldness.
His lips curled up into a menacing grin that looked even more terrifying in the dim light from the fireplace. The smile did not reach his eyes though. Naomi saw something flash in them, it was there then it was gone. If she had blinked she would have missed it. She could not identify what she saw. She was too scared to know what it was.
"Sebastien?" Mary, you are a lifesaver, Naomi thought. "Is anything the...."
"Nothing," he deadpanned. "I was just leaving." His eyes did not leave hers. He turned to leave then stopped right by the doorway. "Matilda, please take good care of our guests." He walked out.