Selene (by Deathwalker)

This was a writing I tried submitting for a contest on DeviantART. The letter from Gallows is actually not mine, but was a part of the contest that had to be integrated into the writing.

Selene
The sun shone upon the metropolis brightly like a beacon of hope, yet in the cold and shadowed places, glowed with bitter, remorseless light. There was no wind in the urban bustle, just a monotonous hum of cars and people and voices. In the distance of the cold and shadowed places, however, the eternal hum of the city dwindled to a whisper, as if murmuring terrible secrets not meant for the ears of the civilized society.

In the depths of the shadows was a girl with the appearance of a ravenous wolf. Her eyes- one colored the piercing blue of an eagle, the other colored the eerie green of a cat- seemed to illuminate the darkness around her. She moved silently with the cold mindset of a predator which craftily stalks its prey and strikes at the perfect moment. Or perhaps she herself was the prey, trained to fight and kill for survival.

On her forehead was inscribed a black word- “PSI”. It was covered by a mass of long black hair streaked with lines of silver. Her lips were inhumanly thin; her skin unnaturally pale, giving her the appearance of a ghost. Around her neck was a dog tag and a silver locket.

From a belt on her frayed jeans the girl extracted a wicked knife with a long, serrated blade. The rested the teeth of the blade gently against her arm, at the midpoint between her wrist and elbow. She began to draw the blade back slowly, watching her skin split open like a zipper, and the crimson line that followed the knife. She cringed slightly at the pain, but also smiled- a wild, savage, and insane smile. Her face contorted into one of madness.

After this bizarre ritual was completed, she sheathed the knife, still covered with fresh blood, turned around, and stopped in shock.

A shadowy figure stood before her. Whether it was man or woman, she couldn’t tell. Not that she would have cared. What surprised and utterly terrified her was the envelope that the man held, addressed with only a single name. “Selene Arima Taithleach”- her own name. The only scrap of identity she had left in her crumbling world.

With shaking hands, she took the envelope. As she did, the figure that held the letter seemed to melt back into the shadows, like a pale memory, or an otherworldly fantasy. She looked after where the figure disappeared for a moment, as if it was a figment of her imagination. The letter she held in her hands, however, was real. She tore apart the envelope and read the neatly written, precise handwriting:

Salutations, '' My name is Gallows. Who and what I am is of no consequence. What matters most is that I offer you what you desire most: a chance to escape. Your heart is full of this desire and yearns for it almost painfully. It is something you desire most of all. This I know without a doubt. I am a man of power. And I have the means to set you free. Perhaps you are asking yourself how and why I know what I know and am offering what I am offering. It is of no real consequence. You either accept that this letter found you without any help of any postal service or messenger and is offering you something equal unlikely or this is all a dream. But is it not better to have tried to attain your dream then merely let it fade in the morning light? Of course you are not the only one who desperately desires to escape. There are others. There always are and like you I have given them an invitation as well. However I plan on only giving out the chance to one person. I want to make sure the person who desires it most gets it. To that end I am offering a chance for a select group of people who desire to escape the most out of all to come to my estate and prove to me that they wish to escape more so than anyone. Every soul who steps foot on my estate is given a gem. The door to my house is shut and unable to be opened except for when every gem is placed in its proper place. Perhaps you see where this is going. If you desire to escape your only way is to gain the gems carried by the others and thus proving that you, above all, are worthy of the chance to escape. You may be doubting the sincerity of my claim or that this is even real. I can only assure you on my word, on my power, that it is real. If you do not believe me you can feel free to discard this invitation and nothing will happen. Or you can seize this opportunity to gain what you wish for most: salvation. To gain entry to my estate all you need to do is answer one question and write the answer below it. Though a word of caution before you hastily agree. There are hidden dangers that you will face, and I do not just mean the other competitors. Your safety in this will not be guaranteed so you must ask yourself if it is worth it. If you do merely answer the question below. I advise you to gather what you need as your journey will begin almost immediately thereafter. I eagerly await your reply. Sincerely, Gallows DO YOU WISH TO ESCAPE?

The last question in the letter hung in Selene’s mind. She stood there for a number of minutes, mind blank and empty with wonder.

Escape…

She thought of her current life- trapped beneath fogged memories and an unforgiving society. Fighting for survival almost daily. Normally she wouldn’t trust people, but she felt a kind of honesty in the words she held between her trembling fingers.

She cared not for dangers- she had nothing to lose and everything to gain. She would burn and kill and slaughter to find release from her fate. Even now still shaking, she dipped her finger into the open wound on her arm and signed a single word on the paper, a final, absolute response to the question that hung in her mind- “YES”.

Suddenly, the shadows around her melted into nothingness, to be replaced with a newer, more ominous darkness. The sun still shone, yet the light faltered and died before the fog, casting the world into a lasting night. Behind her, a forest that echoed with seemingly distant screams. Before her, a murky lake which looked tinted with crimson- or perhaps that was her imagination. She could feel the fear, and the terror, radiating through the masking fog.

In her hand, she had just noticed, was a crimson-red gem, the color of her still bleeding wound. She smiled again, clutching tighter the jewel in her hand. She understood her purpose- find, kill, steal. Nothing else mattered now. Kill or be killed. She smiled again. Nothing to lose. Her smile widened. She looked up at the sun that was like the dim full moon. The look on her face was hidden within the fog, but perhaps it was the face of a demon.