Burgundy Sight

Prologue

It was a dark night out and the stars were shining brightly, shimmering against the inky sky. On a balcony, overlooking an evergreen forest, stood a woman. She was tall and slender, her raven-black hair flowing elegantly in the midnight breeze. But something terrible was on her mind. Turning, she began a brisk walk through her room until she reached the door, which she gently pushed open. Stepping into the shadowy burgundy corridors, she continued to her left until she came upon a bronze Griffin reared up on its hind legs. She blinked rapidly — once, twice, three times — and the statue shrunk back revealing a complex maze of tunnels and halls. The woman stepped through in one swift motion and the hidden entrance slammed shut plunging the woman into darkness. walking quickly down the halls she came to an abrupt stop in front of a fashionably decorated door. Reaching towards the curved handle, she opened it. Inside stood a tall white-haired woman with ice-blue eyes and pale skin. She was looking down at a book titled “Seers and Why They Cannot Exist”. The dark woman withdrew a sword while the light dodged her attack and whispered an incantation that flung the prior against the bookshelf. Standing up, the raven-haired woman took three swift steps toward the moon-haired woman as the serrated sword plunged into her stomach, ripping it up until it reached her chin. The older woman gasped as the sword was withdrawn from her throat, intestines clinging to the sword from when it had been in her stomach. She then fell landing on the maroon carpet with a soft thud, dark red pooling out from underneath her. The first woman plodded out of the room, her wet shoes slapping on the cold stone floor. Her job was done.

Chapter One

It was a rainy day, the clouds were swirling with an angry gray. Willow Reap was out for a run like every Saturday morning. Her mother would complain about her not wearing appropriate clothes for exercise instead of her usual all-black get-up. Black sneakers, black tights, black hoodie, black everything. Even her hair and eyes were naturally black. her pale skin contrasted nicely with black, she thought. Willow never could understand how she was the daughter of Hazel Reap and Jorge Reap and sister of Joshy Reap. They all had olive skin and light brown eyes that complemented their dark brown hair. Willow shook her head, enough about her family, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Reaching the tree that marked her turn around, she looped around it and headed back through the forest behind Reaper Manor. When her home came into view as the trees began to thin, she slowed to a stop, planting her hands on her knees. Willow looked at her watch, three hours, two minutes, eight miles. wiping sweat from her brow, she quickly calculated her average pace. By the time she had gotten to the looming front doors, she had determined that 7:12 wasn’t too bad, however, she could do better on a four-mile run with a pace of 6:48. pushing open the always-open doors, Willow had taken only a single step inside before she was bombarded by her brother. His arms were wrapped around her as he said, “Where were you?! Mom was looking everywhere for you!” Willow rolled her eyes, ”And since when does she care?” Joshy looked at her apparently confused ”Well,” he said, “she always cared about, it's just you who doesn’t care about her.” Willow grunted ”Why would I need to? She’s always hindering my abilities and so are you. Now move.” Joshy did as she said but not before whispering into her ear, ”Someone was murdered.” Willow stopped dead and whipped around, ”Who?” She snarled Joshy grinned, “I think you’ll be happy about this but…” “But who?!” Willow practically screamed. ”But I’ll let Mom tell you the rest.” Willow pounced, her eye was twitching which was the most emotion she’d shown all week. Joshy attempted to shrink back but his shoulders were already pinned to the ground and Willow had pulled out her pocket knife making a series of slashes on his arm. Joshy whimpered, but it wasn’t like anything he wasn't used to. Finally, when Willow was satisfied, she stepped back and let him up. Hazel Reap, Willow’s and Joshy’s mother stood in the doorway, her slender and tall farm leaning against the wall. She smiled and walked up, her obnoxiously colorful dress swishing from side to side. Willow looked like she wanted to puke, or even better, rip her eyes out. ”Sit down.” Hazel said Willow reluctantly dragged a velvet armchair into the center of the room before plopping into it and staring up menacingly at her mother. ”What do you want?” She asked, never averting her gaze until she got her desired reaction. her mother began to squirm until finally, she said, “You know that school I was trying to get you into? The one for abnormal kids?” Willow nodded, she hated that school and everything to do with it. It was just her mother trying to get her to become a mirror image of herself. But nonetheless, Willow kept her anger in check and maintained her placid expression, ”Yes. So?” She asked ”So,” her mother began ”So the headmistress died last night while visiting here and they believe me to have killed her.” Willow snorted “You wouldn’t have the guts to kill a fly.” Hazel looked taken aback, “you wound me my daughter.” she said. ”I could do worse.” Willow replied, “But does this mean I won’t have to visit that horrid school?” Hazel sighed, “No, you won't. It will be closed until a new headmistress is decided on and the murder is solved. However, the prior has been dealt with already.” ”Oh?” Willow inquired “And who might that be?” Her mother sighed again and Willow braced herself, but nothing could’ve prepared her for her answer. ”me.” She said ”WHAT?!” Willow screamed, loud enough to cause her mother to faint. She stomped off towards the door glaring daggers at anyone who dared look at her.

Chapter Two

Willow headed towards the only place that had ever felt like home to her; the dumpster. If there were one person that Willow had to choose to trust, it would be Mitchell. She would never admit it though, she was far too esteemed to do that. trudging along the muddy road, Willow thought that it was very unlikely that her mother would become the headmistress without a good reason. Thinking through her options, she finally decided that solving the murder would be the best course of action. Thinking about it a little more made it all the more sense, she would be able to start her career as a hired killer, and she would be able to uncover her mother's intentions all while a little hint of danger was sprinkled in. Willow had made it to the end of the road and took a sharp right turn to avoid the bramble before she came upon the wasteland of her town’s dumpster. kicking dust and debris out of her way, she uncovered a small hatch just big enough to fit a small adult through, which she definitely qualified for. Lifting it up, the lidded door made a small crashing noise as the hinges swung open and it banged against the ground. “MITCHELL?” she called down. No answer. Groaning, Willow knew that Mitchell was most likely building some strange contraption to make his living off of. Clambering down the ladder, she heard a faint sound becoming louder and louder as she crawled through the dark, damp halls. When she finally thought her ears wouldn’t be able to handle the sound anymore, it stopped. The dust that had begun to clog her airways started to clear as well. What was left was a dark-skinned boy with pitch-black hair sticking on end standing in the center of the room. He was hunched over a mess of wires and metal slabs tinkering poking and prodding. Willow crept up and stood there forever before Mitchell finally recognized she was there. He turned around to snatch up another one of his trinkets and yelped as he saw Willow standing there staring blankly at him as usual “Are you ever going to stop sneaking up on me like that?” he asked “Why would I?” was Willow’s curt response “It ruins the fun.” rolling his eyes Mitchell finally said, “So I'm assuming that something’s on your mind?” “What makes you think that?” Willow responded a little too quickly “I know you too well. You are currently looking at me with a larger amount of intensity than usual which you often do when someone is right about something but you don't want them to be. So, what is it?” Willow took a dagger out of her pocket and pointed it at him. “Would you like to ask that again?” Mitchell sighed, “Why is it that you always have some concealed weapon on you?” “You know why, I need it now more than ever these days.” Willow grinned her small smile. “AHA!” Mitchell screamed ever so loudly “I knew that there was something! Now tell me right now!” Willow sighed, sometimes she wondered why she trusted this obnoxious teen so much. “Someone murdered the headmistress Persephone last night while she was visiting our house. Mother just became the prime suspect and I want to get to the bottom of this case.” “Wow” was all Mitchell had to say. He was absolutely dumbfounded and his mouth was hanging open. Willow had to tell him to close it before she choked him and he quickly snapped it shut. “So,” Mitchell said, clearly excited at the new turn of events, “I’m guessing that you came here because you wanted me to offer to help?” Willow sighed, “Unfortunately, I cannot do it all by myself for I will need eyes all over the place. So in short, yes.” Mitchell’s grin was so wide Willow thought that his mouth might burst. “Don't get too happy yet,” Willow warned “I will be using you for my experiments.” “Oh come on!” Mitchell groaned, “And I thought that we were finally becoming friends!” “I already told you, I don't have friends,” Willow said “Unless you count dead people.” Mitchell sighed and turned towards his work table again, “When will you realize that you need friends?” “I don't need friends.” Willow shot back “And I don't want them either. They will only hinder my progress and destroy me.” Mitchell turned around, “Here.” He said, handing her his gadget. “I made this last night. It’s to make sure that you don't get lost in the woods while you’re out running.” “Why would I need that?” Asked Willow. “It tracks your heart rate, how many miles you’ve gone, where you are, and even how fast you’re going. So even if you don't want to know where you are, you can ignore it and just look at the other features. Oh! And I almost forgot; you can contact me anytime with it! I made a second one for myself.” Mitchell explained. Willow had to admit, she was a little impressed. But of course, she didn’t tell him that, instead she just pocketed the small gadget and muttered out a “thanks” before retreating back up the ladder and coming out into the bright sunlight.

Chapter Three

The next day, Willow woke up to the unpleasant sight of sunlight. Having the forecast expected rain, she had been very disappointed to find that it had now changed. It was supposed to be sunny all day instead. But no matter, hoping out of bed, Willow drew out a crime scene investigation board complete with suspects and motives. When she was complete she found that she had gotten nowhere. She sighed, Willow knew that without questioning everyone in Reaper Manor, she was not going to have solid evidence. Grabbing her recording device and knife, she headed down the spiraling staircase past the 6th, 5th, 4th, 3rd, 2nd, and down to the 1st. As she stepped off of the last step, she headed towards her mother, her first suspect. “Hello, Mother,” Willow said, taking out her recorder and pushing the button to begin. “Why Willow!” Her mother said, snapping her head around in surprise. “What are you doing here?” “I am here to question you,” Willow said bluntly “I need to ensure that everyone in the Manor is irresponsible for the crime.” Hazel’s face went blank and she began to stammer, “Why how nice of you!” Willow rolled her eyes, she was done with her mother’s pleasantries. She wanted the truth, and she wanted it now. “Mother,” Willow said, beginning to raise her voice, “tell me now, what is wrong? You seem to be rather jittery.” Hazel continued to stammer, “Why — er — nothing is wrong with me. I simply was taken aback by your statement!” “Mmhmm.” Willow muttered, “Then you won't mind answering a few questions, now will you?” “Of course not sweetie! Why don’t you begin?” Her mother said. Her voice was more even now and the possibility of her simply being surprised was slim, however, there was a chance, and therefore, Willow continued. “Okay.” She said, “Question number one: where were you at the time of the murder?” “Oh! Why that’s easy! I was in the library!” Hazel said, “It was a new moon out and I wanted to practice my transformation rituals!” “Fine then. Next question.” Willow said, “How did you discover the murder?” “Well,” her mother began, “I was transforming into a rat so that I could find the root of the rodent problem we’ve been having. I was following the other’s when I heard a scream. So I followed it into a secret room in the hidden basement and found Persephone Conner lying in a pool of blood.” Her mother shivered, Remembering, “there were guts everywhere” she recounted, “she was dead, so I ran out of the room as fast as I could and alerted the police. I shouldn’t have however because they now think that it was me. But enough of that! What are you doing here?” Willow glared at her mother, “I’m the one asking questions here, not you. But I do need to interview some of the others so you are free to go. At least for now.” Returning to her room, Willow replayed the message over and over before finally copying the recording into a transcript. Her black hair fell loosely into her face from the sweat of the hot day. Groaning, she leaned back into her chair. Why couldn’t she figure it out? There was clearly something wrong with the recording, but she couldn’t find what it was. Willow wasn’t used to this new feeling, and it was driving her insane. she was about to crumple and throw out her sloppy transcript when there was a knock on the door. “Willow?” A voice said as Mitchell stepped into the room “You good?” “Oh yeah. I’m great.” Was her sarcastic reply Mitchell grunted knowing that he was now dealing with an unhappy Willow, something that no one, not even her parents wanted to do. “What do you want?” Willow snarled clearly not in a place to be spoken to, but MItchelle continued anyway, “I just interviewed Moone Delver, your butler, he said that he was howling at the full moon last night, but there wasn’t one, was there?” Willlow’s eyes brightened at the realization and her mood began to lift, “You’re right!” She said jumping out of her chair “We need to confront him right now!” She raced down the hall and spiraled down the twisting staircase before smacking into her brother, but she continued on paying no attention to him. He looked quizzically at Mitchell who just shrugged his shoulders and chased after Willow. When Mitchell finally caught up with Willow, he grabbed her arm, “We need to plan our approach.” He said, “If he really is the murder, he will likely have some sort of way to get himself out of hot water like this.” Willow begrudgingly agreed and they both headed back up to her room to begin the plans.

Chapter Four

It had been a few days since Willow and Mitchell had begun their investigations, and they were getting nowhere. Willow was beginning to become frustrated and Mitchell had been working with effort to keep her cool, but he also was getting nowhere. The two were currently sitting in the bunker trying to come up with a new concoction to make suspects tell the truth. “How about we add some dill from the United Arab Emirates?” Mitchell asked, already grabbing a handful from Willow’s witchcraft workspace that she had set up earlier that week. “Sure, why not.” Willow grumbled, kicking up dirt from the disgusting ground. “You need to help me if we’re going to get somewhere.” Mitchell sighed, “look, you can either help me or not, and if not, then I am going to stop working my butt off just so I can get you the answers to this mystery.” And with that Mitchell was gone, leaving Willow alone to sulk in her thoughts. Grunting, Willow stood up and trudged over to her cauldron. She grabbed the cyan pepper, the orange juice, and the fennel and threw it into the pot giving it a stir, then she sat down on the floor again and waited. Why couldn’t she just feel? No, that wasn’t going to work. She thought. She was the way she was and just needed to accept that. She was always going to be alone. Always. hours after hours passed by, and still Willow sat. She didn’t get up for the timer going off, nor for the gadget on her wrist beginning to beep. She didn’t care. Finally, when the sun was down, Willow stood and walked over to her potion that had been stewing. She picked it up and carried it clumsily over to the spot at which she had been sitting. Pouring herself a cup, she sipped. It tasted of memories, hopes and dreams. The gadget on her watch beeped again and Willow realized that it was Mitchell trying to contact her. Lifting up her wrist, she tapped the screen and Mitchell’s face appeared. “Where are you?” He asked, oddly he seemed worried, “you’ve been gone forever and your parents are getting anxious!” “We are.” A voice behind Mitchel said and he jumped; clearly unaware that Willow’s father had been eavesdropping on him. ”oh — um — hi Mr. Reap!” Mitchell managed to stutter out. Willow snorted and tapped out of the screen, turning the watch off and leaving Mitchell to deal with her father, the oh so mighty wizard. Jorge Reap was an honest and humble man, but he was very highly esteemed for his incredible potion and spell skills. He was gone often for his work in the untouchable’s government. The untouchable were the peculiar species that had evolved from apes, much like humans but had branched off at one point or another gaining physical or mental attributes that made them more powerful than the humans. Their skills and abilities made the common folk quite mad, as they felt though there should be no other intelligent species other than themselves. In the government, there was a common belief that there was a group of untouchables that were of the highest level of capability. However, there was no proof of it and therefore Willow felt that it was just a ruse to make the younger untouchables work harder in their studies. The other common belief was that it was impossible to be a seer, a very powerful ability that would allow the one who wielded it to view the past, present and future. and this was why Willow was thought to be powerless, for Willow was a seer. And no one knew it. No one.