Mirajane

34

Third person's POV.

Cullen's shadow on the stone pathway was especially drawn out. He was walking down a narrow and long hallway that seemed to have no end. The walls were bricked and every two meters were flickering flames held by claw-like wall brackets.

The making of the hallway showed every indication that it was underground. He seemed especially at ease in such a dark and eery hall. He finally stopped in front of a wooden door and pushed it open but before he could enter, he froze and his eyes widened.

And then he was slamming the door shut and running down the hall like a man possessed. Soon, the darkness fell away to welcome blinding light but he didn't seem fazed by the sudden change in visual as he continued sprinting towards his destination.

He finally burst through a sophisticatedly decorated hall. The room was spacious, a mixture of red, gold and purple. There were two golden thrones sitting on an elevated space.

His eyes searched around the room and settled on the still figure laying on the ground. The look on his face was pure mortification and a fear so deep it made his chest feel stuffy.

He took hesitant and tentative steps towards the figure. He doesn't seem to notice anything around him at all as he moved forward.

He vaguely heard someone calling him but it didn't register in his brain. His attention was focused on that abnormally still figure.

"Millie...Millie why are you like this...? Come on, open your eyes Millie...! Millie!!" He fell on his knees in front of the figure and mumbled.

The woman laying in front of him was sickeningly pale. It was obvious what she was; a corpse. But even the lack of life couldn't hide away her ethereal beauty. Especially the contrast of her brown hair against her pale skin made her appear like a carefully crafted wax figure.

Blood was splattered all over her snow white gown and there were many signs of injuries on her body. She didn't have a peaceful death it seemed.

Cullen gently shook her shoulder but he was met with stiffness that belonged only to the dead. Rigor mortis was already setting in. And that fact snapped whatever control he had left.

"Millie!!" He screamed with a crazed look in his eyes. There was desperation and insanity in his every action. One that became deeper the longer the woman stayed still in her laying position.

Suddenly, her eyes fell open and then dead blue eyes were staring into his own black orbs. She sat up slowly, stiffly, there was nothing lifelike about her movements at all.

Cullen stared at her stupefied.

"Millie..." a smile appeared on his face. One filed with relief and tenderness.

"...hy...?" Her voice was scratchy and it grated on the nerves, "...why!!!?..." her hands inched towards his neck and she gripped it tightly.

Even with his air getting cut off, Cullen had that smile on his face as he stared at her longingly, "...Mil...lie..."

"Why!!!?" Her unpleasant scream echoed around the hall.

******************
Cullen jolted awake from his sleep. His forehead and back were drenched with sweat and his breathing came in short heavy heaves.

His hand rested on his neck with a slight tremble in them. It was so realistic, he could still feel her hand tightly gripping his neck and cutting the air out of his lung, her nails digging into his skin.