Keeper.

«HER FATHER IS A KEEPER...»

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Laura could had been right, at some point. Men weren't to be trusted. My whole life, or as I'd observed from all of my nightmares for a dream, men had wronged me in ways I could not even keep track of.

Even if one would say, "Melissa, it was just a dream," I found it hard to believe.

But yet again, aren't all humans wicked? The male species just seemed to had been good at the game that we women were only learning from them.

Luther had briefly excused himself, leaving me all to myself in the mighty room. Very strange that a mighty and high prince, would bring a mere girl like I, down to his personal place. But then, Laura had said that it was mostly what he did to a lot of other women.

Could she also had fallen a victim of false love?

Although, he had mentioned that that was not his chambers where he slept, as I could not find any bed in sight. It was large and stuffed with expensive unimportant junks for luxury. There was one in particular that caught my eyes... A painting of an eerie grotesque woman. I hoped that wasn't his mother. Other paintings were hung on the wall, some just stood on the ground.

The room was empty, and inside it, was only a long seat that could contain three minimum sized people, and it stood at the far end of the room. I imagined the place was where people prayed and did rituals, but the images of other deities should had been found. Instead, it was just ... empty.

The walls of the room were plastered in dull grey color, and at the center of the room, stood a statue of a woman. She has long hair and the eyes that resembled that of a terrorized one, shone frightfully at me. It was as if the woman was speaking to me as I approached it.

In that moment, I could now feel a strange sensation, as if someone had died a horrible death, and their soul still lurked around for vengeance. Or at least, that was what I had imagined.

"Melissa?" I heard Luther called from behind, and I turned to confirm.

"Yes?"

"I'll only be a moment." He said, and I contemplated whether to smile or not. Men loved it when women did so and I'd even heard from one that it made a divine beauty form on their face. I wanted a divine beauty. Before I could make my move, he had vanished again.

My patient was thinning already. Perhaps it was more time for me to observe the strange woman. Something about the statue reminded me of myself. I walked closer, scrutinizing every details my eyesight could make do of. Unfortunately, it was only a big stone with some, mahogany, limewood, walnut, elm, perhaps pine, cedar and boxwood. I learnt a little on artistic stuffs like that while I was growing up.

In my dreams.

Behind me I felt a silhouette form in the darkness, and my senses revealed to me that it was a man.

Or the voices in my head. These voices have never been wrong.

"Hello there," the voice too scarily familiar to be true. The voice that was ten thousand times powerful than the demonic voices that spoke to me in my darkest thoughts. Those voices comforted me whenever all hope seemed lost. They were not all pure, but a lot of time, they warn me from making consequences that would result to my downfall, or that of others around me.

This particular one, the voice of that man... It was not here to protect me.

I feared my senses were right. My whole body was now shaking, terrified of what has suddenly appeared to me. The danger I had ran from all my lives. The past that I thought had been vanquished. The nightmares I had hoped to remain in the dream realm.

My breath seized and grew out of control. Yet, wasn't it needed of me to confirm my fears? I slowly turned and instantly regretted my actions. I could have ignored, or ran or hid. Still, I turned to uncover the face of the very Devil.

It was him. I felt my vision blurred from the hot tears that began to form in my eyes, and I remained still, gasping for air. I desperately needed to breath, else, I feared I would collapse. I intended not to, but this painful cry bursted out. Why couldn't I control myself? The man just stood still, observing. He didn't utter any other word. As our eyes locked, my breath seized. My chest began to hurt and my whole body became lighter than a feather. Like a withered tree that was already deteriorating. I was close to death. It was either my soul that would be snatched once again, or this man's. If death failed to do it's work, I wouldn't prove so incompetent and this man's life would be crushed and destroy and whatever that reminded left of him, would beg me to end it. The sufferings he would feel would become unbearable and he would cease to exist in the land of the living.

My palms tightened into a fist as I watched him. He was quiet, observing me as if waiting for something. He was waiting for me to cause a scene. To attack him.

My worst regret and pain was the reality that that man and I were related. He shared my hair color, and unlike my pale skin, his was healthy. He dressed in native attire, as if he were some priest or shaman. Long red robes with a hood on. He was almost like a replica of me, other than the fact that he was a different gender. And a more wealthy one at that.

In his eyes, he was somewhat exited. For a reason only his foolish brain could tell.

"I," my mouth parted as I tried to converse, but the words were just so difficult to construct. "I... I-"

"Are you alright?"

I was scared. My reality was still a puzzle that I tried to uncover. I just couldn't believe my eyes. I was still gasping for air, struggling to face my reality. I was weeping bitterly. I was afraid. What if this man found out that I have known him before, what would he do to me then? Why wasn't he even attacking yet?

I remember him vividly. He was the same creature that had hunted me down to the very depths of hell, and now, he seemed harmless. What was his game?

Am I truly running insane? I was loosing it. I couldn't help myself, and these bloody damn tears wouldn't stop!

"Are you alright?" He asked again, and I ...I didn't know what to say. I was far from alright.

I just, he was not supposed to know that.

"I, I'm fine. It's just," I was still crying, shaking from the realization that my nightmares held some truth in them. I hated feeling... whatever that feeling was. It was hurtful. It ripped out my heart and the burden was just too much. "I, I just, there is this headache I feel," through shuddering breath, I managed to say. He was not meant to see my weakness. And I couldn't help myself from showing this weakness. Instead of trying to conceal my pain, I would reveal it. To hide a particular lie, you have to replace it with an original truth.

"Headache?" He said, then paced his footsteps forward. For a moment, one would think that he actually did cared.

"Yes. They uh, they come once a while and hurt badly. Sometimes, they stay for long, other time, like now, they only hurt for a while." I stood still, pretending to be fearless. I hoped that he would buy my story, because if he didn't... Only the devil knows what he would do next.

"Of course, it happens to you occasionally." He said in reverie. Something about his tone made me want to believe he wasn't the monster I saw in my dreams. As he approached closer, in his eyes were somewhat, sympathy. That of a father to a child. To his daughter. "And you would complain bitterly but..." He stopped himself, given that he had spilled too much. He sounded like we had ever spent some alone time. A shared bond, but even I knew it was a lie. He was a monster.

"Do you know me?" I panicked and asked. I should not have, but my patient was not so much strong. "Or rather, do I know you?"

He chuckled and I thought to myself, if this man and I truly had been related and connected somehow before, he was even a more better pretender than I was. "My name is Edward, leader of the Keepers."

"The k- Keepers?" I thought I'd heard him wrong. "I thought that they were a myth."

He laughed out loud. "No they're not. You must be Melissa?"

My eyes widened in disbelief. "How did you know that?" Well at least, he didn't call me Kerik.

"Prince Luther, he uh, mentioned your arrival."

"Oh, okay." I said, and the most unusual type of silence kicked in.

Breaking the silent, he spoke. "If you ever need help with your headache, I could help." Offered the man whom I was hoping would had killed me by now.

"Oh, thanks." I managed a reply. Then he came up close, recited something to his palm, and brought them up to my head. I felt something, a vision. "What was that?"

"You know." He said, and he was not all wrong. "Come find me whenever you wish to cure your headache, or any other ache..." He smiled, one that looked genuinely real. It scared me and made me feel like I had been the monster all along.

The air was soothingly calm that I found myself amused by this man's presence. What was he doing to me?

"Melissa, I am so sorry-" Luther came back in then paused the moment he saw Edward and I face to face. "Oh, I see that you have met the leader of the Keepers." He said.

"Uh, yes. Besides, I was just leaving." Said Edward.

"Already?" Luther pouted.

"Yes, prince Luther. Already." He replied with a stern look on his face, then turned to me, "you take care of yourself." And with that, he left.

"I don't like that man. He's too proud..." Soon, Luther's words began fading away as my mind wandered off.

The picture in this story was not clear. It was a befuddling puzzle that was yet to be solved. Perhaps I could dive in deeper.

Perhaps it would kill me. But, in the end, would it not be worth it? This picture was not vivid enough, I intended to uncover the mysteries that lurked around.

I was not insane. And I would prove that to myself.

At all cost.

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