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Some people just want the world to burn, Cassandra just wants to hear them scream.|--|brown
Joined: Apr 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 6 Location: In your deepest fears
~--Fairytale Screams--~ (OPEN TO ALL) « Thread Started on Apr 24, 2009, 4:22pm »
The door creaked as it was gently pushed open. The museum was empty, and in the darkness the only light that could be seen, except for the dimly lit displays of stuffed animals and plastic dinosaurs, was the thin slither of street-light streaming in from the small door gap. The light looked almost white against the black marble floor, and the only disturbance in the light was a silhouette of a head poking through the door. The door slowly shut over again, and almost all light disappeared, again plummeting the front foyer of the Sunnydale Museum into almost darkness.
Wearing a newly purchased red velvet skirt and a silky black basque, paired with cchunky commando boots, Cassandra Edgely leaned against the large wooden frame that surrounded the large wooden doors at the front of the museum. Unknowingly she began to whistle to herself, not recognizing what the tune was at first or why she had begun to whistle, but whistling was what she continued to do. The night sky seemed to be darker than usual, and yet the stars seemed dimmer. The clouds had rolled back and the moon was just a few days away from reaching full. This strange night-time sky could only be down to some witchy madness, after all it was their time of the year. Although, unlike in so many other places, the witches always did seem to be doing something devious in Sunnydale. It never bothered Cassandra, she believed this was part of the reason why she probably liked it her so much, as long as they didn't get in her way this was fine. Taking a deep breath of the night air in Cassandra grinned. The smell of rain was thick in the air, and the smell that chaos tended to produce was close behind. ”Why does choas always smell so citrusy...?” she found herself musing.
A scream pierced through from the inside of the museum. It sounded like a woman, in her mid-thirties who was probably working some overtime on the second floor, though Cassandra had no idea what was actually on the second floor. The scream kept going, and in time finally lulled down to a desperate whimper, and then succumbing to complete and utter nothingness. Cassandra’s grin widened into a devilish smile and her ruby red lips gleamed in the dull streetlight, looking up at the moon she squinted one eye as if it she was looking at the blindingly bright midday sun.
”Right...”, Cassandra said as she hitched up her very long skirt, “on...”, she took a step back carefully and carefully positioned herself, ”cue!”, and she thrust her foot forward and with one deafening kick she snapped the door practically of its hinges. The door lolled open, and she instantly took one sidestep to the left, grasing the surrounding bushes with her fingers absent mindedly. A rush of a black billowy shadow flowed through the broken doors at a great speed silently. She watched eagerly as the black smoke swished with the wind effortlessly, until it stopped on the pavement path just a few yards in front of her. The shadow piled itself higher and higher until it took a human form. That of a man in his forties, balding (but what little hair he had left was a mousy brown), a moustache and thick black rimmed glasses. His skin was a healthy flesh color, and he was verging on slightly chubby. He wore a dark tan coat, and black pants with very sensible shoes. As the shadow man finished forming, in his hand was a classic black trilby.
He stared boldly and directly Cassandra, a small smile played on his face as if he was just as pleased to see her as she wa to witness what had just happened. He tipped his hat politely at her, and she curtsied politely back enjoying the old-fashioned mockery that the two was sharing. The shadow man turned and walked away still smiling, and he began to whistle to himself. The same tune that was previously coming from Cassandra.
Cassandra began to clap to herself like a small child. She grabbed a dagger out of the back of a maintenance man that had been dead for the past three minutes, and effortlessly twirled her hair into the back of her own head and eased the dagger in there, keeping her long black hair neatly and firmly in place. Still smiling she began to skip into the museum.
As she skipped through the front foyer, she twirled randomly as if possesed by the spirit of a Russian ballerina. Her hands fluttered around her, and the music in her head got bouncier and bouncier, until she stopped dead at the front desk. Not even a hair out of place. She leaned into the front of her own bodice and pulled out a flier. She unfolded it and held it up in the air, behind it was a replica poster.
The Charm of Elderon for one week only.
Below the scriptured font letters was a picture of a musky leather bound book, and engraved into it was a large green jewel surrounded and fortified by a layer of thick patterened gold. Enderneath, in same scripture font, it stated that the charm was displayed on the third floor. Delighted Cassandra leaned over the circular desk that filled the middle of the foyer and banged on the bell, loving the sound that it made. When no answer came, she placed hands on her hips, stood on her tip toes and leaned over. A girl who had barely left high-school and was probably just trying to make a few dollars was cowering in the foetal position just behind a chair at the back of the desk. Tears streaked down her face, she would have been very attractive if it wasn’t for the sheer terror that was stretched over her features now. Still feeling rather like a Russian ballerina Cassandra put on a thick Russian accent instead of her usual sing-song cockney accent she asked the cowering girl “Excuse me kind lady, would you mind pointing me to the direction of the stairs, I need to get to the third floor.”
The woman didn't reply. Cassandra acted like it didn't bother her though and erupted into a fit of laughter. The accent had amused herself, and she was having fun, but got bored of toying with the girl and looked around. Holding her stomach in and and trying her hardest to stop the laughing, she pointed to the stairs and dropped the accent instead letting her sing-song voice break through, ”never mind, found them.” She tapped her head and rolled her eyes as if to claim that she was rather stupid, then began to skip past the desk to the bottom of the unlit stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs, behind a thick red rope, which wasn't even velvet much to Cassandra's unliking, was a fully constructed armour suit. In her mind an imaginary man filled the suit of armour and was grasping very tightly to a rather rusty looking old spear. She didn't know the era but couldn't be bothered to read the card and find out. The spear had cracks in, and slight indentations from previous battles that this armoured man had been apart of. He had killed in someone elses name, and this pleased Casandra to no end, "if only he was alive today..." she thought to herself. Cassandra looked up to the suit and a gleeful giggle ripped from her throat. She grabbed the spear, turned slowly and threw the spear with all her force at the circular desk that occupied the middle of the foyer. The tip pierced through the varnished wood and drove through a set of drawers until eventually the poor woman cowering on the other side shrieked, and then did nothing. No noises, only the last breath as it sneaked out of her mouth.
Turning back to face the armour, Cassandra curtsied to the armour man. ”Why thank you, kind sir.”
After beginning to ascend the stairs Cassandra leaned back over the iron bannister and pushed the top of the armour, forcefully making it collapse to ground with a great clash and rattle. She stood up straight and started to walk back up the stairs. Without once glancing back down. Her skirt shimmied sideways with each step she took, trailing behind her on the stairs and her black combat boots clunked heavily on to each step, as she stomped purposefully harder just so she could hear each crunch her foot print left on the ground. Though there was no physical evidence of such an action left behind, she found it to be satisfying.
She rounded up to top stair of the second floor, and could see the body of the woman that had previously been screaming when confronted by the shadow man. Her skin was taught and almost a lavender purple in colour. Whatever he had done, it had made it hard to even tell who the woman was anymore. Even her hair had become a weird sickly shade of putrid yellow. This did not even slightly deter Cassandra though, and she carried on stomping to the top of the stairs.
When she reached the top of the third floor she found herself glancing around until she spotted the charm and book in a glass case, a small white light glistening over them. The gold sparkled and the green gem shimmered, however it looked odd. As a if black transparent net was covering the top of it. She smiled to herself and nodded as she walked closer to it. Cassandra got to the case and rapped carefully at it's delicate frame.
A shiver of excitement rolled down her spine and forced her to squeak and clap her hands together one more time. She stood back and looked left and right, eventually grabbing some sort of important looking staff encrusted in rubies and jade from an exhibit next to the book. She swung the staff with full force and watched as the shards of glass twinkled, clattered, and ended up in an unfinished jigsaw on the ground. The staff was dropped and Cassandra picked the book from its stand. Examining it carefully, she ripped the charmed gem from the front cover with great ease and held it to the light, inspecting each refracted shape within it with a great sense of amazement. Originally she was going to throw the gem away, having no use for it, but the odd black shine it produced intrigued her dearly, so she shoved it down the front of her top. Wondering what kind of necklace she could make from it.
Being careful of the tiny shards of glass, Cassandra plopped herself onto the ground and sat crossed legged. She picked the staff up and placed it across her knees bemused, as if it was her toy and hers alone. She opened the book and began to read, astonishingly it was written in old english, a language that would not take much effoert to decipher on her part.
This was it, the book she had been searching for, okay she only knew of its existence for the past four days but it felt like she was destined to have that book. It felt like it belonged to her. Soon enough she’d be able to open a portal, one that would unleash hordes and hordes of creatures. Ones that children had been taught to love, and adore, but they didn’t know the truth. Not like Cassandra did, and soon fairies with razor sharp fangs, and horses with long speared horns would come through with many other fairytale creatures, and ultimate chaos would ensue. Cassandra began to whistle to erself again, happily.
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