Chapter:- 2 Shadows of the Night
She made her way to a secluded corner, seeking a moment of reprieve from the relentless social pleasantries. Slipping gracefully into an ornate chair adorned with velvet cushions, she gestured subtly to a passing waiter. He approached with a tray of crystal goblets filled with vibrant nectars.
"Grape nectar, please," she requested in a soft but commanding tone. The waiter handed her a glass, and she brought it to her lips, savoring the sweet, rich aroma. But before the liquid could touch her mouth, a shadow loomed over her.
"What a rare sight," a deep, confident voice remarked, tinged with amusement. "A beautiful young woman such as yourself sitting alone, sipping grape nectar while pretending it's wine."
Elvira lowered the glass and looked up, her gaze meeting that of a tall man with striking features. His blonde hair gleamed under the ballroom lights, and his piercing blue eyes held a mischievous glint. He was dressed impeccably in a beige suit that complemented his sun-kissed complexion.
"And who might you be?" Elvira asked, her voice edged with growing annoyance.
The man placed a hand over his heart in mock apology. "Forgive me, my lady. I am Lance Thather. Does that stir any memories?"
Elvira's brows furrowed in thought. The name was faintly familiar, like a half-remembered melody. "No, I'm afraid not," she admitted.
He chuckled softly. "We used to frolic together when we were children."
A playful glint sparked in Elvira's eyes. "Oh? Then I'm terribly sorry to inform you that I am no longer a child."
Lance's smile faltered for a moment, curiosity flickering across his face. "What happened?" he asked.
Elvira's expression softened, though her tone remained guarded. "Well... time changes everyone, including me." She rose from her seat, her gown shimmering as it caught the light. "If you'll excuse me." Without waiting for a response, she glided away, her heart heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Later that night, Elvira found herself in the solace of her bedchamber. The festivities of the evening felt like a distant memory, replaced by the comforting quiet of the room. The air was scented with lavender, and the flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the walls.
A knock at the door drew her attention. A maid stepped out from the dressing room, her head bowed respectfully. "Madam, your night robes are ready," the maid informed her.
"Thank you. You may leave now," Elvira said with a faint smile.
The maid curtsied and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Elvira stood and walked to the dressing room, where her light blue night robes awaited. She changed swiftly, the silk fabric cool against her skin. Emerging from the room, she threw herself onto the bed, pulling the soft blanket up to her chin.
The weight of the evening's events pressed heavily on her mind, but exhaustion soon claimed her. Her breathing slowed, and she drifted into a restless sleep.
Elvira woke abruptly to the sound of footsteps coming from the balcony. Her heart raced as she sat up, the darkness of the room pressing in around her. The faint glow of moonlight streamed through the curtains, casting silvery patterns across the floor.
Swallowing her fear, Elvira rose from the bed and crept toward the window. Her bare feet made no sound against the cold floor. Peeking through the heavy drapes, she saw a tall figure standing on the balcony, shrouded in shadow.
A shiver ran down her spine. Her breath hitched as fear gripped her. What was a stranger doing on her balcony in the dead of night? Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something—anything—she could use as a weapon.
Her gaze landed on a porcelain vase sitting on a nearby table. She seized it, the smooth surface cool against her trembling fingers. With renewed determination, she edged closer to the balcony door.
Suddenly, a high-pitched scream pierced the air. The sound was sharp and unnatural, reverberating through the room. Elvira's grip on the vase faltered, and it slipped from her hands. The vase shattered on impact, shards scattering across the floor.
The scream intensified, and the window glass exploded with a deafening crash. Shards flew through the air like deadly projectiles. Elvira barely had time to react before a sharp pain tore through her arm. She stumbled backward, her vision blurring.
The world spun around her, and she collapsed to the floor. Her body ached, and every breath was a struggle. Muffled sounds reached her ears, but they were distant and distorted, as though she were underwater.
Through the haze, Elvira glimpsed a figure moving toward her. Her vision darkened, and the last thing she saw was the glint of moonlight on broken glass before everything faded to black.
Elvira's consciousness flickered in and out. When she finally opened her eyes, pain radiated from every inch of her body. Her head throbbed, and the metallic taste of blood lingered on her tongue. She tried to move but winced as a searing ache shot through her arm.
Her once-pristine gown was tattered and stained with crimson streaks. Angry gashes marred her arms and legs, and bruises bloomed across her pale skin in shades of blue, purple, and sickly yellow. A particularly deep cut ran along her left forearm, the wound caked with dried blood.
Elvira's breath came in shallow gasps as she surveyed her injuries. Her right ankle throbbed, swollen and tender to the touch. A jagged shard of glass protruded from her side, and her trembling hands moved instinctively to pull it out. She gritted her teeth against the agony, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
Elvira forced herself to sit up, leaning heavily against the wall. Her vision swam, and dark spots danced before her eyes. Every movement was a battle against the pain threatening to consume her.
She clenched her fists, determination flaring in her chest. "I can't stay here," she whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible. She had to find help, to escape whatever nightmare had descended upon her.
With a supreme effort, Elvira crawled toward the door. The shards of glass littering the floor bit into her palms and knees, drawing fresh rivulets of blood. Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to succumb to the pain.
Her progress was agonizingly slow, each inch gained a testament to her sheer willpower. Her breath came in ragged pants, and sweat slicked her skin. The door loomed tantalizingly close, a beacon of hope in the darkness.
Finally, she reached it, her bloodied hand trembling as she grasped the handle. Summoning the last reserves of her strength, she pulled herself up and leaned heavily against the doorframe.
Elvira's body shook with exertion, and her vision blurred once more. Darkness threatened to claim her, but she fought against it, clinging to consciousness with desperate resolve.
As she opened the door, a surge of relief washed over her. The hallway beyond was dimly lit, but it was free of shattered glass and eerie shadows. She took a faltering step forward, her legs threatening to give way beneath her.
Elvira knew she couldn't afford to collapse now. She had to keep moving, to find someone who could help her. The pain was relentless, but she gritted her teeth and pressed on, driven by a fierce determination to survive