"Admit it... you're hurting because she's gone. You miss her, don't you? You long to hold her hand and bask in her warmth and love…" The irritating little voice in her head began to taunt her relentlessly.
"Shut up!" Leila growled, frustration bubbling to the surface. She had made a choice to move forward and refused to let herself be anchored by the weight of the past.
As she turned to leave, ready to distance herself from her thoughts a murmur of voices caught her attention.
"Master, are you sure it's around here?" an uncertain voice echoed through the stillness.
The reply came in a low tone that Leila couldn't quite make out but she sensed it was directed toward her. A chill ran down her spine as she realized they were heading in her direction.
Leila felt a wave of anxiety wash over her at the thought of being seen lurking in the cemetery at night, like some suspicious figure. Instinctively, she sought a place to hide, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention.
As she crouched behind a large gravestone, she waited for the two men to pass, planning to slip away unnoticed and make her way home. Peering out cautiously, she caught sight of them as they approached.
One man was tall and animated, holding a lantern in one hand and a shovel in the other, his voice a constant stream of chatter. The other was more subdued, striding ahead with an air of confidence, as if he were strolling through his own backyard.
Leila's sharp memory stirred, and she felt a flicker of recognition when she focused on the man being referred to as "master." There was something unsettlingly familiar about him, as if she had encountered him before in a different context.
That shovel... What could they possibly want with it in a graveyard at this hour? The situation felt increasingly suspicious.
Curiosity gnawed at her, and instead of slipping away, Leila decided to remain hidden and observe their activities from the shadows.
"It's pitch black, master. I can't see a thing," the man with the lantern complained, his voice tinged with frustration.
The master didn't reply instead he leaned against a nearby tree and lit a cigarette. The soft glow from the lantern illuminated the area, and as the light flickered, Leila's heart raced. She recognized him, the masked man who had caused her so much trouble with his companion at the pastry shop not long ago.
"Enemies are really destined to cross paths, aren't they?"Leila thought bitterly, her eyes narrowed as she glared at the masked man.
The urge to punch him squarely in the face surged within her, fueled by memories of their last encounter and the chaos he had caused.
Meanwhile, his servant rummaged through the graves, searching intently for something hidden among the tombstones. "I found it!" he shouted gleefully, his voice echoing through the stillness of the night.
"Will you keep your voice down? It's too noisy," the masked man snapped as he tossed his cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it beneath his shoe.
If Margaret had been there, she would have squealed in delight at his showy display. But to Leila, he was nothing more than a pompous good-for-nothing, and her dislike for him deepened with every passing moment.
The servant's words trailed off, his eyes darted downward in a sheepish gesture, filling her with an unexpected pang of sympathy. It was clear that he wasn't one to be reckoned with, just a pitiful soul bound to serve a master whose reputation likely preceded him. She couldn't help but wonder what hardships the servant endured under such a master.
But her curiosity was short-lived, as her attention shifted to the mysterious task at hand. Whose grave were they looking for?
The grave was old and weathered, its tombstone cracked and worn, with mold clinging to its surface. It looked abandoned, left to the mercy of time and the elements. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay.
As the servant set the lantern aside, its flickering light danced across the darkened landscape. He grasped the shovel, its metal blade glinting in the dim light, and began to dig. The sound of dirt and gravel being unearthed filled the air, echoing through the stillness of the night.
Her eyes widened in alarm as she realized the true nature of their intentions. Why were they desecrating a grave in the dead of night? The servant's actions seemed almost furtive, as if they were trying to conceal their true purpose.
A shiver ran down her spine as she contemplated the potential consequences of their actions.
A spark of unease ignited within her, urging her to intervene. Should she sneak away and inform someone of the suspicious activity? But the risk of being discovered was too great. They were too close, and the darkness seemed to amplify every sound.
If they caught her, the consequences could be dire. She remained frozen, trapped in a state of indecision, as the servant continued to dig, the grave slowly yielding its secrets to the darkness.
Given the townsfolk's open hostility towards her, Leila knew that seeking their help would be futile. Reluctantly, she decided to remain hidden, holding her breath as she watched the events unfold.
The servant's voice cut through the night air, his tone deceptively casual. "Do you think Lady Bethany will notice your absence from the inn, milord?" His eyes gleamed with curiosity, and he continued to dig with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
The servant's gaze flicked up to his master's masked face. "If I may ask, milord, why did you bring Lady Bethany to Brokley? She's never been fond of... humble towns like this."
"I needed a diversion," the masked man explained, his voice low and even. "I'm searching for the whisperer, and I couldn't risk arousing suspicion."
The servant's eyes widened in understanding, his mouth forming a silent "O" of surprise. "Ah, brilliant, milord!" he exclaimed, his voice barely above a whisper. "What a splendid idea!"
"I know, Benjamin."
So the servant's name was Benjamin.
Benjamin's excited voice pierced the night air, echoing through the deserted graveyard. "Come and see, master! As you predicted, the coffin is indeed empty!"
He beckoned his master to approach, his eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.
The master's slow, deliberate steps seemed to amplify the tension in the air. As he reached Benjamin's side, a sudden flash of lightning illuminated his black mask, casting an eerie glow on his face. The mask seemed to absorb all emotion, leaving Leila to wonder what lay beneath.
"With the owl on the loose, things are going to become troublesome in Marshvale," he declared, his voice low and foreboding.
Leila's confusion deepened. Were they talking about a real owl here?
Benjamin's inquiry broke the silence, his voice laced with a hint of concern. "What should we do now, milord?"
The master's response was calculated with a hint of caution. "We shall return to Marshvale and lay low until the owl decides to show itself."
Leila sensed it was time to make her exit, stealthily retreating into the shadows to avoid detection. However, her movement must have caught the masked man's attention. A low, menacing chuckle escaped his lips, sending a chill down her spine.
"Benjamin, would you care to catch the little kitten hiding over there and bring it over?" he asked, his voice dripping with malice. "It seems to have heard too much."
Leila's heart skipped a beat as she realized she had been discovered. The man's eyes scanned the darkness, his gaze locking onto her location with unsettling precision.
Benjamin's voice was laced with confusion. "A kitten?" he repeated, his eyes scanning the darkness.
"Where is it?" Leila's heart sank as she realized the masked man had indeed spotted her. But what kitten was he talking about?
Panic began to set in, her heart racing like a wild animal. She remained frozen, unsure of what to do next. The masked man's slow, deliberate steps seemed to echo through the night air, his movements eerily menacing. His gaze was fixed on her hiding spot, his eyes glinting with a knowing spark.
Her mind screamed a single word: "Run!" Before she could process the thought, her legs sprang into action. She bolted out of her hiding place, her feet pounding the earth as she sprinted towards the gate.
The masked man's chuckle sent shivers down her spine. His voice was laced with mirth, but beneath it lay a hint of cruelty, a predator's gleam that made her skin crawl. She could sense his eyes on her, feel his gaze like a weight upon her shoulders.
Determination burned within her. She was almost at the gate, mere steps away from freedom. Her eyes shone with a fierce resolve: she was going to make it out alive.
But just as she thought she had escaped, a jolt of panic seized her. Something tugged at her collar, and her feet left the ground. She struggled, her arms flailing wildly as she felt herself being pulled back. A scream rose in her throat, but it was stifled by a hand clamped over her mouth.