((This had happened about a week or two ago and, even though I really wanted to, I never got around to posting it until now. It's my first posting, so please forgive me if it's not up to par. I hope you enjoy it though))
The door to her room had been unlocked and pushed aside, left slightly open after she let herself through. The noise from within the Inn echoed in the walls, the constant chatter of the patrons below humming through the worn wooden floor boards.
Eve had taken only two steps in before she knew something was wrong. She paused dead in her tracks, as if she had walked into an invisible wall, frozen in mid-stride with eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. Something was wrong. Very wrong. She could feel the horridly familiar feeling of anxiety creeping up through her chest to her throat, pulsing there with a dreadful thud as her mouth went suddenly dry.
Someone had been in her room. Nothing was out of place, nothing was missing, but the sense was there none the less. The air within the room was broken, any sense of security she had felt there before completely shattered and gone, replaced now by a tense static that caused the hair on her arms to stand on end. Someone else had been there.
Eve forced herself to swallow against a parched throat and take a step forward, and then another, bringing her further into the room. Slowly she studied everything, taking note that nothing had been removed or destroyed. Everything looked generally the same as she remembered leaving it, though having not been there for close to a week made the memory of it disappointingly fuzzy and she mentally cursed at herself for not having at least checked on it sometime sooner.
With a final scowl, she decided that there was nothing she could do to change the fact that someone had indeed been in there and that the only logical thing she could do was pack up all of her things and take them with her, leaving this place.
And so she set to the task ahead of her, tossing an empty bag on the bed and starting to fill it with her few articles of clothing and even fewer personal trinkets. She moved quickly, not bothering to be quiet or subtle in her actions as she fought against the undeniable sense that she had been violated. Eventually she moved toward the desk, reaching for a stack of portfolios and folders, and she stopped.
Eve stared in frozen shock at the back of a photo placed so perfectly upon that desk, all other clutter pushed gently aside as to not touch any part of it. She stared at it in utter amazement, her heart pounding in her chest, sending her pulse soaring.
Slowly she let herself move, a hand reaching toward the photo, tips of fingers brushing at the edges as if it were poison. She peeled the photo up away from the desk, her breath caught in her lungs as slate eyes took in the picture, worn and yet obviously very well cared for.
It was a photograph of her, naked and posing, laying on her back atop of a large bed covered with white sheets, her slender form stretched lazily across the length of it at an angle, those legs looking long and hot enough to kill. Her pale skin was exposed in full, save for those most enticing of curves which were just barely covered by a shock of bright red silk draped so casually and sinfully across her body, teasing wickedly. Her head was tilted back against the bed, looking back and up at the camera, sable hair spilling about her head like a dark halo, lush and full. Her eyes were smoky in the subtle lighting, but the look in them was clear. Love, passion, desire, want, all smoldering in that ashen gaze she held so intently with the camera... or perhaps it was past that, the look truly sent to the one behind camera, the photographer.
Eve held that photo for a long time as it hung like delicate lace by her finger tips, her mouth opened slightly in disbelief as she stared back at herself, the looks in those two sets of eyes a brutal contrast to each other. She hadn?t seen this picture in years, had thought that she had destroyed it along with all of the feelings that were captured in that provocative look, never wanting to see that photograph again. That photograph that he had taken.
Finally she tore her eyes away from the picture, moving to shove it into the waiting bag before she closed it up, slinging it across one shoulder as she made her way toward the door. Stepping from the room, she closed the door, sliding the lock into place before she shoved the key deep into her pocket. She was in a haze of silent shock, but as she walked down the hallway the feeling of panic and fear began to take hold as a tight knot forming in her chest, a feeling of dread constricting around her throat.
He had followed her, he had found her, and he was coming back to claim her. She would forever run from him, deny him. But if he caught her and she refused him again, he would kill her... just like he had killed her sister.
The door to her room had been unlocked and pushed aside, left slightly open after she let herself through. The noise from within the Inn echoed in the walls, the constant chatter of the patrons below humming through the worn wooden floor boards.
Eve had taken only two steps in before she knew something was wrong. She paused dead in her tracks, as if she had walked into an invisible wall, frozen in mid-stride with eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. Something was wrong. Very wrong. She could feel the horridly familiar feeling of anxiety creeping up through her chest to her throat, pulsing there with a dreadful thud as her mouth went suddenly dry.
Someone had been in her room. Nothing was out of place, nothing was missing, but the sense was there none the less. The air within the room was broken, any sense of security she had felt there before completely shattered and gone, replaced now by a tense static that caused the hair on her arms to stand on end. Someone else had been there.
Eve forced herself to swallow against a parched throat and take a step forward, and then another, bringing her further into the room. Slowly she studied everything, taking note that nothing had been removed or destroyed. Everything looked generally the same as she remembered leaving it, though having not been there for close to a week made the memory of it disappointingly fuzzy and she mentally cursed at herself for not having at least checked on it sometime sooner.
With a final scowl, she decided that there was nothing she could do to change the fact that someone had indeed been in there and that the only logical thing she could do was pack up all of her things and take them with her, leaving this place.
And so she set to the task ahead of her, tossing an empty bag on the bed and starting to fill it with her few articles of clothing and even fewer personal trinkets. She moved quickly, not bothering to be quiet or subtle in her actions as she fought against the undeniable sense that she had been violated. Eventually she moved toward the desk, reaching for a stack of portfolios and folders, and she stopped.
Eve stared in frozen shock at the back of a photo placed so perfectly upon that desk, all other clutter pushed gently aside as to not touch any part of it. She stared at it in utter amazement, her heart pounding in her chest, sending her pulse soaring.
Slowly she let herself move, a hand reaching toward the photo, tips of fingers brushing at the edges as if it were poison. She peeled the photo up away from the desk, her breath caught in her lungs as slate eyes took in the picture, worn and yet obviously very well cared for.
It was a photograph of her, naked and posing, laying on her back atop of a large bed covered with white sheets, her slender form stretched lazily across the length of it at an angle, those legs looking long and hot enough to kill. Her pale skin was exposed in full, save for those most enticing of curves which were just barely covered by a shock of bright red silk draped so casually and sinfully across her body, teasing wickedly. Her head was tilted back against the bed, looking back and up at the camera, sable hair spilling about her head like a dark halo, lush and full. Her eyes were smoky in the subtle lighting, but the look in them was clear. Love, passion, desire, want, all smoldering in that ashen gaze she held so intently with the camera... or perhaps it was past that, the look truly sent to the one behind camera, the photographer.
Eve held that photo for a long time as it hung like delicate lace by her finger tips, her mouth opened slightly in disbelief as she stared back at herself, the looks in those two sets of eyes a brutal contrast to each other. She hadn?t seen this picture in years, had thought that she had destroyed it along with all of the feelings that were captured in that provocative look, never wanting to see that photograph again. That photograph that he had taken.
Finally she tore her eyes away from the picture, moving to shove it into the waiting bag before she closed it up, slinging it across one shoulder as she made her way toward the door. Stepping from the room, she closed the door, sliding the lock into place before she shoved the key deep into her pocket. She was in a haze of silent shock, but as she walked down the hallway the feeling of panic and fear began to take hold as a tight knot forming in her chest, a feeling of dread constricting around her throat.
He had followed her, he had found her, and he was coming back to claim her. She would forever run from him, deny him. But if he caught her and she refused him again, he would kill her... just like he had killed her sister.