Sneaking out of the house just lacked the drama movies and tv shows made it out to be. It was anxiety inducing to be sure, but the dreadful guilt or stomach dropping fear that were often exaggerated to obnoxious amounts were nowhere to be seen from Zenobia.
If anything, she was angry. Angry and hurt actually though she knew there were better words to describe the feelings that just swept over her being. Nothing felt right even after she made her decision. After writing a note to her sister explaining why she left, and leaving her number, she planned her little escape.
Zenobia took the boxes one by one out the window with rope that had been among her fathers things, lowering it gently onto the grass. She still had no idea what she was going to do, but for the moment she needed to clear her head. But she couldn't leave her things without the risk of her mother just throwing everything out while she was gone. For the meantime she would place the boxes behind the tree next to her room, hiding it until she returned.
Hopefully by the time she calmed down, Zora would be home and she could speak to her properly. For now though, she had to leave her home. Adrenaline burned her body as she leapt out the window. Shaking fingers latched for the strong set of branches of said tree.
It took all of her upper body strength—not that she had much of it—to safely drop onto the ground with barely a tingle to her legs. The bleeding she had managed to stop earlier returned with a vengeance, causing her to hiss. The grass cushioned the noise she created before slinking away into the darkness. Away from her mother...and the only place she could call home.
A hard decision to make for sure, but rather on her terms than on the terms of adults that just didn't give a damn. Once she composed herself, she'd be ready for a round two with her mother. Maybe she'd even be able to meet this so-called grandmother of hers and chew her out too. For now though...she had to breathe, breathe and release that burning blood in her veins.
Her feet carried her onto the sidewalk along her street where she stayed protected under the light lamps that guided her. Her bad foot was already starting to ache even with the boot. Immediately she thought of Zora. She could clearly visualize the little girl with a red bow in each twin pigtail looking at the note getting ready to tear up only to see her big sister's crutches lying on the ground.
That trembling mouth flatlining the moment the five-year-old realized just how stupid and impulsive her sister was to leave without them. Boot or not the elementary schooler would scold her elder sister for being dumb. Zenobia would have laughed if she wasn't paying for it now. Her good foot hit a heavy stone on the ground making her bite back a yelp.
Yeah...definitely paying for it now. With all that being said the teen couldn't believe how easy it felt to just...breath. Each step eased the tightness in her chest. Every stumbling hobble brought her closer to the light under the star covered sky.
The clouds she heard so angrily earlier parted ways. No one was out tonight. A strange occurrence to an extent but not an unwelcomed one. It meant there was no one to approach her, to question her for being alone like this. The thought fed her airways a bit more.
Her hand lifted to her mask, rubbing against the splintered base. The string around her head barely kept it on her face. It was only a matter of time...before she would have to let it go as well. If she wanted to embrace a new future, a new mask prioritized over the small stuff.
A painful admission, but a real honest one that could not be ignored. Her father had to change masks too when she was younger. He rarely wore them since he worked at home, but when company came over or when he had to attend a meeting with a client outside of home, he had to wear one of them. Wait, masks?
Why did he need to wear different masks? What ones did he even wear? She remembered...she remembered? Pain flared upon her head, spreading a throbbing ache in all directions.
One set of nails dug into the roots of her hair, clutching the long strands in a desperate attempt to ground herself. The other flailed blindly out until embracing cold stone. More confusion filled her. That wasn't right either.
Zenobia had been walking on the sidewalk next to the road. No matter how distracted she could be, she would've noticed herself teetering towards a stranger's house. While on the subject, not a single house on her block had a brick base. Even the lights through her fuzzy vision didn't look right.
A blinding garish yellow, an off putting color when compared to the gentle white lights the street lamps on her road used. The colors just looked so dull yet saturated around her. Even the sky tones resembled an amateur artist's water-colored painting. What was happening?
Where was she—
"My my, quite the observant one." A male voice, melodic yet deep whispered into her ear. Shivering she tried to follow it, ready to tell whoever they were to back off. To leave her alone however her ears caught up to what he just said, freezing her.
Whoever they were suddenly yanked her back by her hair, tugging her down. Before she could even scream, the person that jerked Zenobia spun her around as her stomach plummeted with fear. The injured teen felt herself flying from the sharp force when the person that grabbed her let her go. Uneven cement and stones pressed harshly into the teen's body as she rolled over and over—only stopping when her back smacked against a hard cold surface.
What little air she gained left her in a gasp. The throbbing traveled all the way to her toes as she laid there. Paralyzed and unable to see, as the lights around her dimmed and flickered, she listened. Footstep, slow, intentionally (if the laugh accompanied with it was anything to go by) approached.
She heard her attacker get closer. Move. She yelled internally to her body. Move and fight. Move and run.
"Out past curfew aren't we?" She had to do something. Anything. Anything more than listening to such scum that sent shivers up her aching spine.
"A shame really." But she could only cry out in pain when he ripped off her mask. The rough, fractured wood scraped over her face. With clarity she snapped her head up, appalled at the sight as the lighting returned.
Towering above her was a giant of a man. Dressed in a black suit accompanied by a red bowtie, he looked everything one would expect from a gentleman from the Chivalry Era. A man that oozed an aura of honor, class, and respect. One who greeted others with a smile but battled with well-spoken, articulate words that revealed prowess through their artistic talents.
A man raised to perfection, only he wasn't perfect. Not to Zenobia. Not when he shattered her mask to pieces in the heart of his hand in front of her. And most definitely not as he peered down at her while wearing a mask made from a human skull.
She didn't need to look twice to know it was bone. The use of such a material as a mask base was an old, borderline forbidden tradition. They were worn by ancient conquerors and tyrants, serial killers and those sick in the head. The kind of man who treated their victims' deaths like prizes.
Though nowadays it was acceptable to have tiny fangs and bones incorporated into a mask, an actual skull, let alone a human one, never became the base. For him to have one with fractures all over...the person had to have suffered. She glared into stormy eyes filled with hunger as she felt herself lifted off the ground.
"What pretty eyes." He reached for them, those slim fingers approached only to fling back with the owner hissing in pain. A light flashed, blinding both of them leading to Zenobia being dropped. She groaned, disoriented when barking filled the air.
Her vision shifted in and out of color. She saw the man within her sight have a strange shadowy outline. His suit was gone, replaced with a tattered cloak. Even more strange was how he was wrapped tightly in the embrace of a creature resembling the mask he wore.
"Wretched blood!" A distorted skeleton even while hunched over outsized both her and the man that stared at her with empty sockets. It too tried to reach out to her, only to mirror the man's actions. It stepped away, taking him with it.
Zenobia faltered in an attempt to stand, falling back onto her ground. Air wasn't entering her lungs, colors and shapes still blurred no matter how hard she tried to focus. The only sense that improved was her hearing. That barking continued on for longer and louder. Even when she closed her eyes, all she could hear was barking.