The Fallen St. Claire: Lost Key

How often did you think death forgives a person’s wrongdoings in their lifetime?

How far did you think karma would chase someone down?

Halley must have been a ruthless soldier in her previous life; A mad ender of precious and innocent things, or a sociopathic serial killer. Probably one of the most vile creatures ever lived that the whole world rejoiced when she died.

She had been very curious about it for the longest time. People who boast themselves to be the medium of lifetimes had scammed her maybe once or twice a year. She couldn’t help it, she had to know. Guilt had been tugging down her chest, forcing her to remember the terrible things she had done that she could not recall—but could feel all at once whenever she closed her eyes. Sleep was not very kind to her because of that. She’s being punished, and to that extent she knew her sins must have been unforgivable.

But thinking it was a sin from her previous life may just be her way of running from her own judgment. Her parents were dead because of her. She was the one driving when their car crashed five years ago. That incident put her in a coma, and when she woke up, both of her parents were dead. The worst part of it all? She can’t remember a single thing before all that. The faces of the parents she had killed, why she crashed, their last conversation—nothing. The engulfing fire during their last moments together was the only thing she managed to hold onto—that, and knowing that she’s looking for them in the midst of the blaze.

She was the driver. She just knew she was the reason for their deaths, even if her brother would not stop saying she had it all wrong.

She could have intently drove the car into the cliff for all she knew, and must have been why guilt never stopped weighing down her whole being since waking up.

Heshun, her brother and last surviving family, assured her that that was not the case. He often said she was a good daughter, and thanked her for not leaving him in that world alone.

But they had left the home they grew up on, leaving everyone they had ever known behind. He said it was to manage the business her parents built at the capital, but sometimes she figured it was to run away from the truth that she was a horrible horrible creature. The one who destroyed their family.

It must have been why she always tried to be good. She wanted to bury all those bad things away. Volunteering in an orphanage was her favorite way to redeem herself. Their smiles whenever they greeted her, whenever she told them stories, whenever she played with them . . . it could somehow chase the dark thoughts away.

“The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small.” She shot the kids with a vicious look. They all looked at her with anticipation. “‘Off with his head!’” she read.

Alice in Wonderland. That version of the book was new in the donated box that had just arrived. It had a hard bound green cover with intricate designs and everyone wanted to be the one to read it first. They were fighting on who that its pretty pages almost got ripped into pieces, so Halley stepped in to read it for them all.

“‘I’ll fetch the executioner myself,’ said the King eagerly, and he hurried off. Alice thought she might as well go back, and see how the game was going on. . . ”

It was somehow redeeming, yes. Their innocent faces watching her with anticipation as she gave life to the words written in the books around them, she wanted to believe everything she’d do would give her the similar kind of feeling.

But no matter how hard she tried, she knew that was not the case. The moment Halley finished the story telling and it was time to say good night to the kids, all her senses collectively tuned out. She was planning on walking at the shelter nearby to volunteer more hours of her time, but after waving goodbye to the nuns looking after the orphanage, she saw a familiar figure of a woman sitting at the bottom of the steps outside the door. It was already getting late and the night had become so much colder. She could see hazes of the cold air hissing from her mouth as she tried to keep herself warm.

“Lacee?” she called. Lacee looked over her shoulder with a smile before standing. The cold night wind combed through her silky hair and she shivered from its biting chills.

“What took you so long? I thought you’re out at eight?” she asked, hooking her arm around her to try and share some warmth.

“The kids are singing for tomorrow’s charity gala. I helped the nuns pack some things,” she replied. “You should have called me that you’re here. I can make your favorite tea inside.”

Lacee rolled her eyes. “Oh please, you know my deal with nuns and kids.” She grew up in an orphanage outside of their town. She said it was a place that kindled trauma more than joy.

“How’s your day? Did you pass your exam?” she asked. They were both seniors in college, she majored in psychology while Lacee decided to take Biochemistry.

She did not hear an answer from her, and it was if she only wanted her to forget she even asked. “Heshun will scold you.” Her brother was ten years older than them, and though Lacee was not their relative he had been taking care of them both for as long as she could remember, which was not much since she could only remembered the last five years of her life.

Lacee was her best friend; she had always been there for most of her life and was the one who stood by her brother as he waited for her to wake up in a coma for years. She helped them to pull through the worst and never left her side since.

They reached Lacee’s car that was parked nearby. She started the ignition and continued talking about the migratory birds she wanted to watch in the outing they’d be having the coming weekend.

“I read some news about that place, they said the numbers of tourists getting injured were rising,” she commented and popped out the articles she’d been reading on her phone. “Attacked by the animals in the area, there are also poisonous plants, steep climbs and raging waves. It’s a whole ordeal.”

“Why are you so worried now? we have conquered dozens of hike already,” Lacee commented, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Heshun is coming with us now, it’s different.”

“Will you stop babying him? He’s years older than us for crying out loud. The only issue I have about him coming is that it’d be like a field trip a guardian.”

Halley sighed, put down her phone and looked on ahead.

“Do you think he’ll get bitten or poisoned first?” Lacee asked after a while.

“Should we make a bet?” she asked.

“Poisoned.”

“Well that’s not fair, I was thinking the same thing.”

They talked more about some things, she tried her best to make her thoughts stay in the conversation, but like how it always did her mind slipped towards somewhere else. She stared at the moon, it felt like it was the one talking to her instead. Whispering secrets she couldn’t let others hear. It made her remember some things about yesterday, images that kept slipping through her fingers and out of her reach.

Smiles and giggles. The grassy plains scratching her skin. A warm embrace.

–Screams and tears.

For years it had been like that. Nothing was purely calm and in place.

Her head snapped back to that car ride. They were already on the familiar streets close to their residence.

“. . . And Heshun wanted you to change your therapist.”

Her forehead knotted. “Again? Why?” That was why she did not want them meeting her therapist. No matter how well they worked with her, they always found some faults that would make her change them. London, and recent therapists, has been kept as a secret from them for months. But they soon found out about him and now wanted her to throw him away.

“We’re doing good. The nightmares were manageable nowadays.” Lies. The nightmares were still there, but she liked the sense of clarity she often had after talking to him. It felt like he was successfully dusting out the abandoned dark spaces inside her head.

“Just do it. Don’t meet him ever again.”

“That’s unreasonable.”

“How long have you been seeing him?” She held down her tongue and looked outside the windows once again. Lacee shot a glare at her. “That long?”

“Wha–I did not say anything.”

“C’mon Halley, you should be more careful in meeting new people.”

“You sound more like my brother than my best friend.”

She pinned her gaze onto the traffic ahead and cleared her throat. “I’m just saying.”

She looked at her, a bit guilty that she became annoyed when all they ever wanted was what’s good for her.

Taking a sigh of defeat, she lightened the mood with: “If you’re here to get me, then did that mean Heshun’s cooking?”

There was silence. But then Lacee smiled, she looked at her and they both laughed. “I’ll prepare our meds.”

“I just hope he won’t end up burning our kitchen like the last time.”

“What was he cooking that time?”

“Fried rice.”

Lacee turned to one of the huge subdivisions inside the city. Heshun and Halley Cross were born with silver spoons on their mouths, and when their parents died they left them a huge sum of inheritance. Heshun also became the executive chairman of the family business they had left behind. They did not have to worry about money or anything like that, but Heshun had been so overprotective in their safety that he did not bother employing a chef or a maid to cook for them. Hence, whenever he cooked, it always turned into a disaster.

“How’s the soup?” he asked warmly from the other side of the table. Halley and Lacee jolted when a falling pan made a loud sound from the kitchen behind them. That place was a mess with powder and unknown liquid doused all over the wall and even the ceiling. The classy interior design that must had cost more than their year-worth tuition fees gone behind all the bizzare colors.

“It’s good, we should order there often,” Halley said.

Another sound of a breaking utensil cried from the kitchen. “What did you try to summon there, Heshun?” Lacee asked.

Halley laughed and offered her pouting brother, who had flour all over his curly hair, with some chicken from the take outs.

Right. With them right there with her, all her sufferings were bearable. Halley knew that something’s wrong inside her head. She had spent her every waking hour trying to figure out what it was. And though she felt out of place most of the time, Heshun and Lacee remained her constants. The only sure thing she could hold onto.

But if there was one thing life was really good at–it’s proving that beautiful things were the ones easily destroy. Karma had been chasing her down, and her sins finally caught up to her.

It must have been a fever dream.

A sick, horrendous, fever dream.

Halley flinched. The bat hit her brother’s head with a loud thud. An echoing kind of silence rang through her head after that. Her eyes widened in horror. Blood was dripping from the worn out sack that was covering her brother’s head, its rhythm pulsing under her skin as it hit the damped wooden floor.

She tried to move, to run towards Heshun and check if he’s still alive but the rope around her wrists and ankles reminded her of the hopeless situation they’re in.

Even her throat had betrayed her. She could not scream nor utter even a single sound. All she could do was stare at him, tied up on a chair like her while his head hung from his neck—and for a moment that image made her not want to know the answer to her own question.

“I told you.” The shock almost made her forget about him. He walked around them while wiping the traces of Hehsun’s blood from his bat. “Nothing good will come from being stubborn.”

Halley felt her whole body shaking. Was she angry? Or was she afraid? Inside those head splitting seconds she could not quite determine the difference. Her brother. . . her brother who was yelling with fury a few moments ago was now lumped on his seat, arms and legs tied as tight as hers and but now unmoving.

“Now, now. . . don’t start crying on me.” He lifted her chin with the end of the bat and looked straight into her damped eyes. The menacing stare from his brown lenses could not hide its dance with excitement as he loomed over her. “He’s still alive, you see. But he would not stay like that for long if you kept hiding things from me.”

“How many times do I have to say, you dumb freak?” she asked behind her teeth. “I don’t have any idea about the manor you’re looking for.”

He clicked his tongue. “That won’t do. You have to tell me what you know, Halley.” Without letting go of her gaze, he pointed the bat towards the woman beside her brother. Lacee. Like them, she was tied up too but with a tape covering her mouth. Her expression often carried the image of mischief. But now . . . now that she had some of Heshun’s blood on her face, she’s certain they had the same horrified look.

“Talk. Then maybe I’ll let her leave this place unscratched.” He turned to Lacee then patted her head with the bat. “After all, none of them were a part of this.”

“Then leave them alone!”

“I can’t do that, sweet sweet child. You see, I’ve spent a hundred years looking for you.”

Her face crumpled in anger as she listened to his nonsense.

“And when I finally found you, her memories were too far out. It was as if she knew what some people would do and buried it somewhere inside that mortal body that no one would be able to reach. Magic, potions, I incorporated them all in your medicines but nothing works. You can’t really blame me for running out of patience.” He smiled with his lazy pompous eyes. One snap of his fingers and his men immediately put a sack over Lacee’s head. She screamed and yelled her name.

“But why. . . are you looking at me like that?” Their eyes locked for a second, and there she realized she was not wearing the same horrified expression like hers. She’s just. . . sad. Like none of the whole kidnapping scheme and the Lunatic London, the therapist they were instantly wary about, asking for some manor frightened her.

“I need you to help me out here, Halley.” He sounded like a whining child. “I need you to remember. Where is Samara’s Manor?”

She did not answer. She only stared at Lacee

“Come on, think. You have some of her memories. You remember the nightmares about the fire that you kept having since you woke up from your coma? I told you it was how your mind interpreted the car crash bla bla bla,” His eyes rolled as he spoke. “But you described the St. Claire’s palace so well that I know it’s from her memory. I bet it’s from a bit of her soul that still lingers inside a new mortal body.”

“So dig deeper into that tunnel, will you?” he continued. “Because I need to see that manor, and your merry little trio. . . ” He chuckled and raised his bat. “Need to get out of here.”

“No! Don’t—” He did not have any idea how badly she wanted to know what he had been asking her. He did not have any idea how hard she prayed for the “past life” he kept telling her to give her the answer so she, Heshun and Lacee could go back to their normal lives. She had long let go of the idea that he was asking for something stupid, and just hoped that she would know the answer of where Samara’s damned manor was.

But nothing. . . she really didn’t know.

Maybe the Halley before the accident would know. Maybe she knew the answer. But he was too late. London, her therapist, was years too late. All of those memories had been long forgotten.

Then she heard a whisper. A low mumble of words. Was it from Lacee? She did not have the time to figure it out. The cold wind that had been blowing from the bottom of the room’s rotten door suddenly went still, there was a complete cessation of everything before it then again swirled in the opposite direction.

The sudden gush of air made her blink. It was only for a second, but when her eyes opened her lashes fluttered in confusion.

Where was she?

The dripping walls, the lone light in the middle of the room, London, his men along with Heshun and Lacee. All of it. All of them. Gone.

And now she’s staring at what seemed like a mansion carved out from a huge ivory marble. It looked so peaceful as it stood alone in the middle of a flowery meadow that was bustling with life. Snow white petals rained above her. She could almost think it was winter because of the blanket of whiteness it clothed her feet with but the warm summer gales told her otherwise.

There she was sure. It was the manor. Samara’s manor.

She quickly stood up and looked around. Only then she realized that Lacee was there too, sitting next to her while removing the cut ropes that were tying her hands. She rushed to her side and helped her free herself.

Lacee quickly pulled the tape over her mouth and clawed her hands over her shoulder. Her hair had always been perfectly set behind her ears, but as she stared at her with a stern look on her face, it appeared like long black streaks over her face.

“Halley, listen to me. Listen to me very carefully.” But she could not focus on anything she said. She didn’t want that stare. She didn’t want that expression on her face. “Go to Elfo. Find Lucious.”

She did not like the face of someone who looked like they’re about to leave her all alone.

“Lacee, what–where’s Heshun?” She looked around. “Where are we?”

“Halley!” She pinned her face to face her. “I can’t stay with you. He needs me. So I trust you with this one, okay? Find. Lucious.” She waved her fingers and roots came sprouting out from the perfect lush of green around them. It grabbed onto her leg, twisted tightly around her skin and flung her away from Lacee’s touch.

She screamed as the root took her away, dragging her across the meadow that its thick blades scraped her skin. She looked back at Lacee to call for help but she’s not there anymore. Still, her perfume lingered under nose. A citrusy kind of smell. It was a distinct smell that would often tell her that she’s nearby. It had always been a cool quirk of hers, and in that moment, a spree of confusion in her head. She looked at the roots that had been dragging her towards the manor. Her face fell even more confused, it was the one smelling like Lacee’s perfume.

The roots pushed the towering doors of the manor open. Pillars that seemed to have been chiseled from the purest blue crystals greeted her eyes. The marble floors felt cold against her skin, and the roots continued to pull her across it like a ragdoll. She tried to hold onto one of the tall vases that were lined in the hallway, but with just one tug from the roots it was sent falling down on the floor.

Stating the obvious, nothing normal was happening to her at the moment. “Normal” had long bid its goodbye the moment London’s men ambushed them on the way to a charity gala. ‘Normal’ was nowhere to be seen as she was dragged across the beautiful mansion by the roots that came to life smelling like Lacee. She grabbed onto anything at her reach. The long thick curtains, the indoor plant with golden flowers, even the statue of a winged goddess. But nothing could stop her from her fate.

After failing every attempt to latch herself somewhere, she tried loosening the roots around her legs. It would not even budge. She looked ahead, and almost turned pale when she noticed that there’s a dead end ahead and the roots were zooming towards it even faster.

She cursed. The roots wanted to splatter her blood all across the manor’s crystal-like wallpaper. She held her breath as she came colliding with it. She prepared herself for the searing pain–but nothing. The root stopped from pulling her but did not let go of her feet. It might have shown her mercy and stopped right before she hit the wall. But as she felt the ground beneath her palm, she knew that was not the case.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. It was a tunnel. A dark damped tunnel with roots spreading across every corner. Blushes of tiny flowers gave it a faint blue light. She looked back from where she came and almost jumped when she faced her own reflection. The beautiful hallway she was just sliding across from earlier, all gone.

She stood up and realized that the root still had its tight grip around her legs. She shook her care away and stared at the mirror. She had to go back. She reached for it but one light touch from her fingertips sent her own reflection away. The whole mirror vanished. What stretched far before her was the same dark tunnel with roots crawling and shifting on its walls.

“No.” Panic rose from within her. But just as when she was about to break the roots above her in an attempt to find a way out, the roots hugging her legs tugged her lightly. She found herself walking forward to where the roots wanted her to go.

She went deeper into what seemed like an endless dark tunnel, and as she went in further and further down, the growing roots on the walls became thicker—denser, until the tunnels became narrow. The gown that Lacee picked for her for the gala got hooked from the protruding roots. It was already dirty, covered in mud and blood and wears and tears that put it in much worse state.

Soon enough, it had become harder to move. But the roots insisted on pulling her forward. Afraid to be dragged by it again and lost a limb or two in that tight spot, she squeezed herself through the tunnel until she walked out of a small sphere-like space at the end. There’s nothing there. Just roots and the tiny glowing flowers growing from it.

She had figured out who owned those roots. All that was around her, as well as those that had dragged her in that tunnel, were the roots of the tree in front of the manor. The one with the snow white petals. The Lusadia Tree. She’s familiar with it. Her brother had been trying to grow one in their backyard, but his efforts were proven fruitless over and over again. None reached the mature age. All came to its inevitable end under his care. Had she known that they could act harshyly like that, she would have been more cautious around them.

She looked around, trying to find another one way out. She was being careful not to fall into the steep end of the path, but the roots that had been gripping her had other plans. It pulled her down that she was sent tumbling into its pit. She cursed when few of the thick spikes cut her skin. She tried to hold onto the roots but they all seemed alive and wanting her to fall down deeper. She closed her eyes and waited for the buttom, but instead she passed through it like a bodiless entity and all she could do in surrender was let out a quick yelp before holding her breath.

Still, with her eyes closed, the wind caressed her whole body. It blowed through her wounds, letting her feel its pain. She was dangling from the roots that she managed to grab onto her fall. The roots around her ankle loosened up and it became the only thing keeping her safe.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and she instantly fell paralyzed. A blush of cloud passed just beneath her then trembling feet, and she held her breath as she stared at it.

She . . . was behind the clouds. Hanging from fragile roots and vines, she was a wrong move away from freefalling into the world below her. She was at the sky, and the patches of greens and flickering lights were looking back at her with the melody of her end.

She calmed herself, let out a long shivering breath before trying to peek at where she was dangling from. The sudden sound of a snap from the roots above her sent her an inch down and it held her breath once again. Swears and prayers mixed up on her mumbles.

The wind whistled on her ears, it seemed to have been enjoying the unfortunate sight of hers.

She closed her eyes to ponder, and after a long while of calming herself once again, partly cursing the roots that dragged ger there, she slowly moved to grab more of the hanging roots. She was cursing as she did so, swearing she’d burn the tree next to the manor as soon as she get out of there.

Another one of the snapping sounds made her whimper. She closed her eyes and continued on reaching for her salvation, but the next snap that cut on her hearing made the roots around her loosen and sent her falling towards the earth below.

She cursed and cursed and cursed. The cold gust of wind smote her body as she gaped at the sea of clouds below her. It hugged her vision and when it freed her body down, her numbed senses returned to her at once. A flock of birds that were unfortunately on her way angrily shrieked at her when she nearly hit one of them. They were loud. The wind was loud. It was gushing on her body and chewing through her flesh. Her mind was going haywire. She had no single idea of what she should do.

And so like a hopeless dead man, she kept on falling. Fast. Frighteningly pulled from the night sky by the heavy force of the world below her. Her eyes would not shut. She could see the view of the stretching horizon on all its corners, and the small web of flickering lights that were gleaming closer towards her.

The icy wind that passed rashly against her skin may have succeeded in numbing her body from head to toe, but it certainly failed to seep through the walls of her consciousness. Emotions were blaring inside her head and she was screaming in terror.

As she let out a long horrified squeal, she realized she was zooming towards the darker patch of land away from the flickering lights of the town. The forest with moonlit treetops leered in closer and closer to her.

Darkness entrapped her eyes when she fell inside the forest. Leaves and twigs clawed and snapped against her body before she felt an impact that halted her drop, sealing her terrified shrill at the same time.

For a moment, she thought how nice death was for not letting her feel the pain of her end. But it was a short farewell to her bitter-sweet life when the painless impact of death slightly bounced her once and swung her back and forth before coming to a halt.

She heard herself groan in pain―she’s alive. How on earth was she alive.

Her eyelids were heavy. Drenched in cold and fear, her whole body was trembling. She gave herself the time to lie down and not think of anything at all, but the noises around her―sudden rustling of leaves; peculiar sounds of birds at a close distance, and; the sullen whisper of the wind as it crept across the forest and bite the gashes of her body―made her quickly opened her eyes at once.

Still, she was terrified, her mind could not comprehend what had happened. But when she opened her eyes, the mystifying beauty that welcomed her gaze did not let her think of anything else but its enticing image.

What towered her still petrified body was the starry night sky. It was bright, full of colors and twinkling lights with blushes of clouds. It was bursting inside the lens of her eyes. But the gem of it all. The one that truly marked inside her head―was the lone enormous moon. It looked really close that she, for a split daydream, had thought of jumping her way there.

Where did she fell from? She wondered.

The moon lit her face with its shy blue light. It was a remarkable beauty that filled the once dimmed shadows on her eyes. Slowly, her body remembered how to function again. Her breaths stabilized, the world stopped spinning around and she felt all her organs slipping back to its rightful places.

Now that the pain made her certain it’s not a fever dream, she’s starting to feel terrified.

***