In a far corner of the grand estate of the Witherfords, a figure moved with an air of quiet grace.
The figure was moving silently along the dark corridors dimmed by the night, only accompanied by the long time past faces and mythical creatures pictured on the faded tapestries, which adorned the walls.
Tall narrow windows, obscured by heavy drapes, were keeping the moonlight at bay, and the figure continued down the familiar dark hallway until it reached its destination at a large double door.
Killian's hand lingered on the handle to one of the doors and to his surprise, the sound of clanging metal was heard when he pushed open the doors to the gardens outside.
This was the first time the door had not been locked.
'I am finally outside'. His thoughts were raging and he breathed in the fresh cold air, as the night enveloped him like a shroud, its darkness comforting as he hesitated his steps at the edge of the mansion entranceway.
Killian looked around nervously before breaking the nightly sounds with a hushed tone while trying to contain his excitement.
"Sir GaleâŚ"
The voice barely escaped his lips before he took a step outside and headed off for a random location in the garden.
Moonlight silhouettes of the foliage that had been growing dense for a long time filled the area, and even if the garden was not well-kept, the dewy grass smelled good, and his newfound freedom combined with the silvery moonlit scene around him made everything feel more magical and surreal.
However the night gave him no response.
His senses were heightened as he kept stepping further and further away from the mansion.
At least the maids all left during the nights, no one could be bothered to stay when the place was colder than their own rooms at the main house.
Still, the nervousness of being found while leaving his allowed boundary as well as the expectations of meeting the person who had helped him, made him notice the slight unnatural movements in the shadows of the trees at the edge of the garden.
"GalâŚ".
In an instant dark shapes moved fast towards him from the shadows their visuals still obscured even in the moonlight.
Panic clawed at his chest as he looked around for a means of defense.
The assailants quickly closed the gap between them and him from the far end of the garden.
Within just a few seconds they had caught up to him, who in that fraction of a moment had barely moved, his mind still racing to make sense of the sudden attack.
4 figures were now surrounding him, and low sinister sneers in the wind reached his ears, sending a chill down his spine.
"Young Master Killian" The voice was hoarse and sounded like an eerily greeting more than a question.
They knew who he was.
In the chaos that ensued, blow after blow landed on his body, and soon the night was filled with flashes of steel followed by Killian's desperate cries in the struggle.
The pain that shot through every inch of his body was unbearable, and he fought back with everything he had in him, only for whatever little strength he had to be useless.
The cold air stung his lungs, as he tried to focus on breathing among the many hits and kicks launched at him.
His body had long since fallen to the ground, and he had curled up to protect his core and head.
At times he would see the reflection from the moon on metal of weapons, while feeling the sharp pain from cuts and stabs.
"Are you sure we should kill him?".
The question was followed by a hiss, but soon after the weapons were sheathed.
"The client said to leave him to die" the hoarse voice replied, but something made his voice crack, as he spoke the words.
The bickering continued creating longer gaps between the attacks, until they finally stopped altogether.
It felt like an eternity, and he had no grasp of when the attackers had left. The sound of their sneers still lingered on his mind, and he was afraid that any movement on his part would instigate another attack.
The cool air was almost soothing on his face and he finally moved out his arm, reaching for the foot of a statue near him, using it to pull himself over the ground towards the doors he had only been all too happy to walk through earlier.
The feeling of panic still lingered knowing that the state of his body must be horrible, and every little inch he moved on iterated the seriousness of his injuries, but any attempts made to call out for help returned nothing.
'WhyâŚwhy did Gale not show upâŚ?' His mind was slowly pushing out the remnant sounds of sneers and instead a small seething anger festered deep within. Someone in the family must have planned this, he knew all too well what they all thought of him.
"Useless...Weak...Disgrace...".
He clenched his teeth, his legs now useless from a piercing pain shooting through them, but he instead continued to drag himself forward on his hands and elbows, leaving behind a visual of his determination with a trail of flattened grass covered in blood.
The silvery silhouettes of the garden started to become blurry, blending with the many shadows and for a moment the fear of another attack festered in his heart, as his consciousness started to slip away.
He laid on the grass stretched out with one hand just barely reaching the bottom of the steps leading up to the mansion doors.
Moments later the sound of footsteps echoed in the night, and gasping sounds uttered in pain escaped his barely open mouth, when hands lifted his body carrying him away from the night and back into the familiar darkness lingering within the mansion.
The figure carrying him moved with purpose, the strides steady despite the weight of their burden, and soon relief washed over him, as his body was placed on linen, burying into a hard mattress.
"Young Master Killian" The voice was soothing and fingers lingered on his face for a moment.
Still those words made him shiver, reminding him of the hoarse voice from earlier and he felt the person's hand tensing up at his body involuntary response.
Then the voice repeated.
"Hang in there, I will find help."
Even in all his pain, the corners of his mouth shot up at the last words he heard.
He knew all too well.
No one would help, not a single soul in the entire estate would help him.
He heard the same sound of footsteps hurry out of the room, attenuating down one of the many hallways, followed by a voice calling out repeatedly only for it to be returned by silence.
Waves of exhaustion and pain shot through him, and soon Killian's mind completely blacked out.