Onyx - Revised, with a diffrent ending. ^^;;

[Katana]

Last time, I posted the ever-so-crappy rough draft. Enjoy the revised edition:


With unblinking eyes, she looked up at the house. Eerie in its entire visage, she shivered at the scene before her. Her mouth felt dry, and no words came to fall over her lips. The shrubs were untrimmed and unruly, the house old and broken. Vines dominated it's walls, and the glass of the windows hung warped, broken, and dirty. In the pale moonlight, the front lawn resembled something of a graveyard, cool gray stones reflecting the silvery beams that kissed their surfaces.
The whole scene sat enclosed in a thick forboding fog, frightening in it's own right. It seemed to draw in our heroine, Rhea, like a moth to a flame. Rhea stood at a mere five foot three with dark hair and brown eyes. She was very lighthearted and immature. She had always liked to do things everyone else couldn't...but this? This pushed the bar a little to high. She pressed on still, the house still drawing her like a moth to a flame.
Rhea shivered as her fingers brushed the cool, dusty, metal of the front gate. It opened with a creak that reminded her of a human scream. Every nerve in her body demanded that she go back, go home, but her feet willed her forward, seeming on their own.
A year ago, her mother had fallen deathily ill. Nothing could alliviate her mother's maladies. Enclosed in this house, enveloped in it's darkness, sat a stone. It was rumored to be a bewitched peice of onyx, sifted from the riverbed of Styx. In Rhea's mind, however, where it came from was irrelevant, only it's purpose was worth value. It was rumored, that when placed over the heart, this one stone could heal any ailment that affected the patient.
She couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on her back, but she pressed forward, finally reaching the veranda. She placed a foot on the veranda, charily. She tried to mentally calm herself. All this was was an old house, right? She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and proceeded.
"Here goes nothing." Rhea twisted the old brass doorknob, carefully. The door fell open with a creak very similar to that of the gate. She winced at the horrid grinding of the door on its hinges. As she stepped inside, she looked at her hands. To her credit, they shook with only the most minor of tremors.
Rhea toed the line between the thin sliver of moonlight peering in from the door, and the shadow that engulfed the house. Telling herself that she had nothing to lose, she proceeded into the house. The stone would be above the mantle, she had heard. She was, as far as she could tell, in the family room. There was no fireplace, no mantle. She sighed. Walking into the long, dark, hall she noticed a table covered in cobwebs and dust. Brushing off some of the dirt, she discovered a candle and a book of matches. With a grin, she lit the candle and blew out the match. Then, lifting the candle, she proceded down the hall. As her eyes sifted through the darkness, she noticed portraits, time and neglect leaving them ragged, faded, and dusty. Behind her she heard the faintest of footsteps. She spun quickly, so scared that she didn't notice the burning hot wax land on her hand. Once she was satisfied that nothing was there, she walked down the hall again, peering into rooms.
She came upon a room with a large fireplace, a door leading out into the backyard, several couches and such things. She stepped closer to the mantle, and the air chilled. Looking around, her heart beating so loud, she was sure it echoed through the house. Once Rhea had approached the mantle, she noticed a black stone glinting moonlight from the open back door. She smiled, her walk speeding to a trot. She was only about a foot away from the fireplace when she noticed two eyes, burning like embers in the corner. The candle sputtered it's last words, as the flame died. Her breath grew short, shallow. A malevolent presence seemed to radiate from the figure, and Rhea started to back up step by step. A pale, but not skeletal, hand reached out of the draping sleeve of the cloak, pulling back the hood. To Rhea's suprise, it was a woman, fair to behold. She had pale hair that caught the moonlight, haunting silver eyes, and a scar just above her brow. She readied her scythe, then looked at Rhea apathetically.
"I, Randilyn, am the Gaurdian of the Onyx. You seek it, therefore, you must die." She raised her scythe, aiming it to lop Rhea's head off. Before the cool metal reached Rhea's neck, however, she had bolted into the backyard through the open door behind her. She didn't stop running until she was sure the stone's keeper wasn't following her. Falling to her knees, her chest heaving in and out heavily, taking in the night air in huge gulps, she looked around at her surroundings. It was then she noticed that she was in a graveyard. Her pupils shrunk in fear. It was then that she stood, surveying the situation she had now run into.
Turning to where she had allen to her knees, she observed at statue. It was an angel, but it's condition ruined it's comforting intent. On the contrary, It was horrifying. The wings were broken off, and in their place, rust had set in, pouring down the back of the angel. Two streams of rust fell, also, down below the angel's eyes. In the moonlight, the rust looked identical to blood. If only out of morbid curiousity, Rhea stepped up to the angel, slowly. As she was just about to reach the wounded creature, her foot hit somthing, sending out a clear ringing tone. Silver glinted on the surface of a double-bladed sword. It had a black marble staff with a silver blades at each end. Rhea smiled, picked it up and twirled it, catching it.
Suddenly, she realized all that time she spent pretending to be a cheerleader as a little girl would pay off. Ready for the fight, she stood. She couldn't back down now. A new found strength had filled her with courage that would either be her savior or her downfall. She took sure steps walking back to the house. She couldn't let her mother down now. Readying her newfound weapon, she walked into what could be her death.
The gaurdian was waiting for her just as she knew she would be. Randilyn lunged at her, scythe bared. With a clear clank of metal, Rhea deflected it. She winced however, as it snagged the skin on her cheek as Randilyn retracted it. Beads of crimson formed over her tan skin and she ran towards the mantle. She was cut off mere inches out of reach of the stone, but she managed to knock Randilyn onto her back, and she peirced Randilyn's chest with her sword. Randilyn looked up with a look that showed no pain, only regret.
"One fall will injure me, but will never kill me." And with that, she kicked Rhea sharply in the side, knocking her back. Rhea took this chance to take the onyx, and run in the direction of the door. And even as Rhea ran, Randilyn ran after her.
Everything around Rhea seemed to move in slow motion. Randilyn's scythe had dug into her back, the wound was deep. Rhea did not dishearten. Even with the gaping wound set in her back, she pulled, struggled to get home. There, she could heal her mother, and make all this worthwhile. But, even as she was going the the gate, the world got still. The onyx dropped from her fingers. She fell to the cool cobblestone, dead. Her world turned black. The last image she saw was her mother, as an angel, only tainted. She cried bloody tears. Her wings had been severed from her back, leaving crimson trail marks. She looked identical to the angel Rhea had found earlier, in the back yard. She turned, brushing the hair from Rhea's face. Rhea looked up at her through tear-blurred eyes.
"My daughter, do not cry, for you have not failed me." She took Rhea's hand, and lead her to heaven.

[Sperrit]

Good stuff! It's even better than the last one! You're sure to win that contest now!

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