Chapter 5: The Unexpected Visitor

/-Alora-/

The cave was frightening in a way; the moonlight just glimmered barely through the heavy darkness of the cave. 

Randall's silence was disturbing, and my heart pounded in my ears as the volume increased, each beat a warning that escape might be impossible.

The weight of all that has happened—betrayal, the collapse of a successful career in the blink of an eye, the death of my daughter—pushed me deeper into the abyss, as if it was an anchor I was trying to release.

I didn’t trust Randall. Not yet. While being alone with him, I instinctively felt some change since our meeting—his lustfulness was a little more pronounced now. He seemed to be quietly furious, and heated emotions could not be concealed from others. 

He observed me too keenly as if he were an admirer attempting to decipher every facial contortion and change in color that graced my face.

I had the urge to shout at him to ask him what the problem was. No sooner did I try to speak than my tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of my mouth.

“Then?” The question came. From a big man with a thick beard who stood next to a tall, handsome man called Randall, whose voice was husky as if he did not speak much. Suddenly the sound of my name on his lips sounded like a curse—something wedge, ponderous. He moved closer, and I tensed and edged backwards, my body pounding with rapid thumps.

This is love, the desiring self says to the other: “What are you going to do with me?” These words I knew but they tasted like I was saying some unknown language. I had seen it all already – my whole life practically. My physical self was sore to the bone, my energy drained but as if the world was rallying to keep me going.

"What are your plans for me?" My mouth felt strange when I spoke those words. I had already experienced a great deal. It felt like the cosmos wouldn't let me sleep, even though my body hurt and my spirit was broken.  

Randall took a while to respond. His gaze shifted to the cave's entrance, and something about his expression and his clenched jaw told me that I wasn't the only one stuck inside. Every action he took seemed planned, burdened by a past I couldn't comprehend. Somehow, I had become a part of that history.  

The air changed then. So faint at first that I assumed it was my imagination, suddenly there was a ripple across the room. But the hairs on the back of my heart stood on end as I was rooted to the ground.

I wasn't alone myself.

There was a visitor.

As the feeling of the impending danger in the air really began to sink in, my lungs froze. The silence of the television made Randall felt tensed beside me, his eyes shifted to the entrance of the cave.

"What's going on?" Like, maybe if we use a loud tone then something really bad must happen, I said softly almost whispering.

Voices echoed from the darkness before Randall could respond. Alone, she felt like in the past, every step taken was deliberately measured, the noise reverberating like the beating of a drum.

He was there as I spun around to meet the noise.

A man wearing a dark cloak, his presence filling the room. As soon as he came into sight, his icy, calculating eyes met mine. He possessed a black aura that seeped into the darkness, and he was too tall to be human. My heart pounded as I absorbed his look. 

The man had bad energy, pitch-black roots spreading into the dark, and he was taller than any human being. I felt my blood rush to my head just looking at him.

This was no ordinary person.

He gave an impression of a man who had seen too much, of a man who knew infinitely more than he was willing to say. But the most memorable was his eyes—they absolutely terrified me. 

Those eyes weren't only icy. They were old. They bore a wisdom that reduced me to being a figure on a board moved by unseen hands through countless generations of tyranny and authority.

Now he was leaning forward and staring at me, eyes wide and peeled as if he could pierce through my very being.

Randall positioned himself between the man and me whilst grumbling lowly to the man. The man did not even appear to notice or react to the sound, or barely at best.

Alora,” the stranger said, so smooth, just like silk, but with a hint of danger in it making my neck prickle. I am looking forward to your visit.

With every breath being drawn, it felt as though my throat sat tightly shut. He was aware of my name.

"Who are you?" I can mimic coolness, but I stuttered.

The stranger was slow to answer. But instead of anger, his lips turned upwards in what might have been a grin before he glanced at Randall. But it was a smile of thunderclouds—a smile that offered nothing but the threat of mayhem.

The man replied, his voice turned low, filled with evil relish, “I never thought that I would see you here.” It doesn't matter, though. This is how it was meant to be.

As the feeling of distance that was growing between us left me feeling practically strangled, I stepped cautiously. "What are you looking for?"

The man looked back at Randall, who was trying to keep a straight face, but his shoulders were stiff and his gaze shifted.

The man looked back at me and added, "I came to warn her." "The Elders will arrive soon. 

Alora, they know who you are. And until they get you, they won't stop.

My air escaped from my lungs almost instantly when he said those words. The Elders.

I had heard about them—as stories they told me, those rumors, rumors, and rumors I heard people whisper in their vivid fear. It had been a death sentence, but hearing it today felt like another death sentence coming from the lips of this stranger.

Were the Elders pursuing me? However, why?

‘What… what do you mean by ‘what I am?’ The question scarcely rolled off my tongue as I puffed out.

The man’s lips twisted in a parody of sympathy. ‘You have not decidedly quit on it as yet, have you?’ quietly faded into a murmur, and he was upon her. 

Alora, now that you’ve been kept in the dark long enough. It has come for you to bite the bullet and know the truth.

My blood was pounding and embarrassed, somewhat shaken, I stepped backward. That was not something I was interested in knowing. Not quite yet. Whatever this was, I didn’t want to face it.

But before I could say a second word, Randall grabbed my arm tightly in his hand. He said, Enough, with something like a growl behind it, the kind of growl that indicates the speaker has had quite enough of something and is ready to let out his brand of force. I don’t like all this anonymous stuff anymore. Support her if you are around to do it. If not, get out.

Then the stranger stared at Randall, his expression devoid of any emotion on his face. Then he looked back at me again, and there was a second or a moment – I do not know what exactly – but some kind of feeling passed through his face.

He responded smoothly, “You don’t know what you are dealing with here.” However, you will. Soon enough.

Fear gripped me by the neck, making my throat dry, so I had to force down a mouthful of spit. This should be the cue for you to ask me what it is you expect from me or what it is I should expect from you, the figure in the portrait.

The stranger remained silent. Instead, he angrily got up from his chair and walked out the door.

And he spoke one last terrifying statement before vanishing into the night:

"Get yourself ready, Alora. They are coming for you.