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Chapter 2: Reflection’s Curse

‘…The poor chap…’ I thought subconsciously, but then shook my head. No! T-this man was a felon! A criminal! I should call the Scotland Yard! He’s a dangerous perpetrator! He!...h-he…I glanced down at the man once more, my deep green eyes narrowed with pity…He really needs my help…

Sighing, I rubbed between my eyes. ‘I’m really going to regret this…’ I thought, then slowly started dragging the mangled body into my home.

End Recap---

You carelessly walked through the large and empty halls of the dark dusty castle. Wearing only a faded and torn [f/c] cloak over you, you realized as the ghostly breeze caressed you [s/c] face that your precious mask had disappeared. Now running down the endless hall, lightning flashes through the large windows causing a cascade of shadows to flicker about the walls and thunder cracks loudly shaking the very core of the hall as the windows shiver at its echo. While in a dead panic you search the empty halls for any trace of your missing mask, but as you pass by an open corridor something catches through the corner of your eye. Now cautiously making your way to “said” object you lift your hand to touch the dusty cloth that cover the item; gripping the fabric you slowly pull at it and watch as it steadily reveals the object from beneath. You pause in mid-breath as you felt about your face, a sudden tremor of fear strikes through your body when you then realize that you’ve found yourself face to face with a full body mirror. Not only that, but as you peer into the rusted mirror you find the identity looking back stare at you through dull [e/c] eyes, glazed over in silent suffering, you feel your blood freeze as you let your eyes wander the mis-colored flesh of its deformed body. Curves so mismatched to a cursed body, and mangy [h/l] [h/c] hair lost in tangles. Lastly a face is hidden behind rough petit hands, as warm salty tears stream down its face.

You stare through the cracks between your fingers at the beastly girl staring back at you, a sigh of sheer pain escapes your chapped lips as you realize that the “girl” is in fact, you. Or at least who you were as a child. The you in the mirror was in the appearance of yourself the very day you came to know the truth of yourself, your disgust, your fear, and…your shame…

You sank to the hard cold marble floor, huddling into your [f/c] faded cloak. “T-…This….is who I am….who we are……” The girl in the mirror spoke in monotone to you as she crouched down and stared at her feet. Your eyes followed her gaze, widening some as it landed on the reflection of your missing mask. You froze as you watched the younger you in the mirror pick up the mask; patting it off slightly she brought her attention back to you, her dull [e/c] lax with exhaustion. “……Here you go…Don’t ever lose it again…” You continued to watch as her hands along with the mask phased through the mirror and to you, holding it out for you to take. “…Because…the next time you do……” her eyes narrowed, “…There will be no turning back.”

You stared through wide eyes at the girl in the mirror, then taking a deep breath you nodded in acknowledgement. As soon as you gripped the mask everything around you was engulfed in a blinding bright light as one last lightning flash struck through the corridor.

You crack open your eyes only to close them shut after a striking pain echoes in your skull. Letting them wander about you heard low groaning from the end of the bed. You slowly push your aching body up on your hands and peek at the struggling Brit on the ground buried by tons and tons of books. “Oh for the love o—Oh, you’re awake? How are you feeling, love?” As he pushed the mountains of books off he stood, patting himself off and smiled at you. You could only stare through cautious [e/c] eyes at the Brit, but then as you subconsciously lifted your hand to your face your eyes widened in horror as you felt bandages covering up one of your eyes and around your forehead.

“M-M-Mask! W-Where…My Mask!?” you looked around frantically for it, but to no prevail. The Brit wandered up to the side of the bed and pulled open one of the drawers on the nightstand, and to your relief you saw, firmly gripped in his hand, your missing mask. Instead of jerking it away from him you could only hide what was visible of your face in the crisp white sheets of the blanket, only peeping through a slim hole you created for visual purposes. The Brit looked at you as you shivered beneath the confines of the blanket. “I do believe that “this” is what you’ve been looking for?” he said with a questioning tone under his breath. You just held out your hand, gesturing for him to place it in your palm. And as soon as he did you immediately spun around, reapplying the mask to your face, though since your face was bandaged he most likely already got a good look at you. The thought sent shivers down your spine as you thought about how disgusted he probably was with you. You tried to haul yourself out of the bed but was instantly blocked by the blonde Brit who stood in your way.

“……Please…move….” You quietly spoke, glaring dully through your broken mask, and hoped he would head the light warning and get out of your way…but…to no avail.

“Wha? I most certainly will not! I will have you see that you are in absolutely no condition to move about! Especially with those injuries, love.” He glared back at you, his emerald green eyes glowing bright beneath his bushy dark brows. It was then that you’d realized who this man was, “…Y-…You’re!?” You heard him breathe out a sigh as he scratched the back of his head, “Well, it appears that you finally remember me…I’m still contemplating on whether or not I should call the Scotland Yard…” After he’d said that you instantly froze. ‘S-…Scotland Yard?....Crap…if he calls them, then I’ll seriously be walking on thin ice…’ You were snapped out of your thoughts when a sharp pain ran through your side causing you to fall back on the bed for comfort. The Brit hurried over to you and lifted the blanket to get a better look at your wounds, “It’s starting to bleed through…That’ll be no more fidgeting from you young lady. Otherwise you’ll end up having to have me redo all your stitches.”

‘Y-Young…L-lady..?!’ The moment he said that you heart skipped a beat and your [e/c] orbs widened in shock at the fact that that insulting guard had figured out your gender. And with your current state you were left quite vulnerable; you could only hope to God that he wasn’t a bloody pervert. You shied away from his touch as his fingers worked at your bandages, but all your fidgeting was only agitating the blonde Brit as he continued to work, “B-Bloody Hell! Stop fidgeting already!!!” Ignoring his shout you continued to shy away, that is, until you heard a low growl escape his lips, “Ugh, fine then. If you insist on ignoring me then it would appear that I shall have no other choice…” then crawling up onto the bed he made his way to where he was straddling you then sat, efficiently pinning you to the bed.

Your eyes went white as you stared at him through the slits in your mask. His own deep green eyes narrowed with an apparent blush spreading across his cheeks while he worked on your wounds. Thinking best not to agitate “said” Brit or your wounds any farther you just submitted to his treatment as the slight fog of drowsiness slowly began to take effect on you once again. And with a silent yawn you found yourself drifting away in slumber. However, unbeknownst to the blonde Brit, he hadn’t realized that you’d nodded off right then just as he’d reapplied the clean bandage he sat up and let out a sigh of content. “Well now…that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” he asked your sleeping form as he crawled back off the bed. Frowning at your reluctance to answer he grunted in frustration, “Well, the least you could do would be to say ‘Thank you’…” he said as he crossed his arms scowling. Once again he received no answer; this time the “said” Brit stomped his foot in annoyance, “WELL AT LEAST SAY SOMETHING!!! HOW CAN YOU JUST OUT RIGHTFULLY IGNORE A PERSON WHO’D—J-J-JUST SAVED YOUR LIFE!!?”

When you failed to respond a third time the irritated Brit stomped over to your side and ripped the mask from your face, not even stirring your exhausted form. The Brit just stared speechless as he gazed at your sleeping face.

Royal Guard P.O.V.-----

“Oh…..so you’re asleep…well then…” I gently placed the mask back down on top of the nightstand before returning my gaze back to the felon’s sleeping face. I hated to admit it, but…she was literally one of the most beautiful ladies I’ve ever come by. I don’t know why she continues to persist on wearing that drab old mask, but I suppose she has her reasons…like for committing felonies without the possible chance of being recognized…I grimaced at the thought and glanced back at the love. She truly was a brilliant beauty…

Without realizing it I’d found myself leaning against the side of the bed, my head nestled in the crook of my arms as I watched her take light slow breaths. The way her delicate [s/c] lids covered her eyes, the way her soft and flowing [h/c] hair feathered the pillow, an adorable poke-able nose……and finally…the way her sweet and charmed lips lay parted ever so gently…

A deep blush had found its way onto my cheeks as I pushed myself a way from the bed. Facepalming myself I teetered back, only to lean against the frame of the window. My heart quickened and my breath was stuck, I was feeling ill…so ill, in a way I’ve never felt before, but what had struck me even more was the fact that I only felt this way whenever my eyes would lay themselves on “her”… “Oh bloody hell…” I murmured barely a whisper to myself as realization finally hit, “I-…It can’t be…” I laughed to myself…there was no way on Earth that I was experiencing that dreaded illness of the eyes…That-…That was impossible! Improbable! I removed my hand barely enough so that I could have a simple glimpse of the beauty that slept on my bed. I just continued to stare, and stare, and stare even more. Hopefully it would be enough to wear off this accursed feeling. No luck. I sighed to myself as I approached the bed again. Glaring shallowly, I tried to be rational about this; she was a criminal of all people! If I had to “fall” for someone, c-couldn’t it of been someone who wasn’t a possible wanted felon?!

Sighing for I’d measure as the hundredth time I set my aloof eyes on her once more. She just looked far too innocent to be anyone that bad…
Regular P.O.V.----

As you slept the confused Brit stalked out of the room, his mind lost in thought about what he was to do with you, but unbeknownst to him you’d started to stir again just as he’d walked out the room. Looking around you noticed your mask was back on the night stand again, so replacing it back on, you pulled yourself out of bed and took notice to some clothes laid out for you. Note that they were male clothes, but you didn’t mind, you actually preferred to wear those anyway since it gave you a certain secure sense when you wore them.

You were just about to make your way out the room when you heard a knocking at the door. Peaking around the corner your breath caught as you glared fearfully at the two constables that were present in the Brit’s entrance way. They seemed to be asking him some questions and even showed him a paper. Too bad you couldn’t hear a thing they were saying, but every time one of them would glance up in your direction you’d duck back behind the corner. Finally after what seemed like hours of questioning, the constables made their goodbyes and headed back out the door, followed by the Brit closing and locking it. Then out of nowhere you saw him shot his head in your direction, a look of disdain in his deep green eyes.

“So…it would appear that I’m completely out of my mind…especially since, apparently, I’m harboring a well-known and infamous felon…Isn’t that right? .........The Beast of London?”

Xxx------ To be continued? ------xxX