work in progress...
part of a story...
in a darkened room, lit only by a soulless candle burning on the solid dark oak desk, a figure stood and started at the piece of paper which was in her hands. The figure, well the lady stood there, with black leather boots, as far up as her knees, and then some fishnet tights or stockings were worn, you'd only notice this if you caught a glimpse when she turn as her floor length black skirt had a small tear which let you catch this sight, the rest of her attire, a black corset with 6 hocks for the coursing to go through and both side, with a lace decoration, which if you looked closely you could see a fair pattern of a Zen garden, her arms, covered by nothing , showed the pale skin, with battle wounds upon them, the scars of the past and the healing of the times now. Her face, pale, seem to have eyes which could look at you, and you'd look back and seemingly be lost within them they were in fact green, a most emerald green that when she was happy or angry you'd know automatically, her face other than pale was normal, a small amount of a dark lipstick coated her lips and a small nose stud sparkled in the flickering candle flame. The necklace around her neck was always around neck, it seemingly never left, it was a stone, or a crystal or something that was both, whatever it was it was shaped into a tear drop and hung just above the cleft of her breasts
but now that we know what she looks like we know that from this candle lit room only the outline of her can be seen, she's stood there reading the piece of paper, maybe asking herself why, or maybe correcting it, it would remain un-known. She placed the piece of paper back on to the oak desk, quickly running her finger allowing the surface, feeling to oak and the imperfections of the wood as she did. She rush to the small widow and gazed out into the moon light seeing a dark figure below stood waiting with a carriage. She ran over to the far side of the room, grabbed a hand full of the papers of the desk, blew out the candle and fled down the stone steps. She slowed as she got to the level where other people were and crept down the stairs taking her time to make sure she didn't fall. She finally reach a large oak door at the bottom of the stairs, her she grab one of the bags hung up just inside the door and pushed all of the papers into the leather satchel and then looked up at the great oak door.
an audible sigh was heard from somewhere to the left, down one of the great passages leading off this vast hall, she knew the layout of the building, knew where the door which she wanted was, it was towards the sigh, she stood there for a while and then stepped back into the darkness against the great oak door and waited for the slow, rather old and greying security guard to make his way past her. A spark hit her imagination and at the last moment she managed to grab the keys out of the security guards pocket without him noticing anything and him plodding along on his round. She waited until he had firmly got past her and was down the right hand passage way, she glanced up towards the stairs which she had come down and turned the left corridor.
This corridor, pitch black, only small slits of light filtered in through the small darkened and dust covered windows, the floor, well the old carpet, which seemed to be all of the floor consisted off, went up and down and the slits of light gave off some of the dark red carpet. The doors on the side were oak, a paler one that the others within the building, she knew they were locked, they always were, there was no reason to open them or to see what was behind them. Many of the people who were within the building that she had, had contact with had not see the doors open, but how... were new doors put there... this thought ran through her head as she made her way along the corridor.
in a darkened room, lit only by a soulless candle burning on the solid dark oak desk, a figure stood and started at the piece of paper which was in her hands. The figure, well the lady stood there, with black leather boots, as far up as her knees, and then some fishnet tights or stockings were worn, you'd only notice this if you caught a glimpse when she turn as her floor length black skirt had a small tear which let you catch this sight, the rest of her attire, a black corset with 6 hocks for the coursing to go through and both side, with a lace decoration, which if you looked closely you could see a fair pattern of a Zen garden, her arms, covered by nothing , showed the pale skin, with battle wounds upon them, the scars of the past and the healing of the times now. Her face, pale, seem to have eyes which could look at you, and you'd look back and seemingly be lost within them they were in fact green, a most emerald green that when she was happy or angry you'd know automatically, her face other than pale was normal, a small amount of a dark lipstick coated her lips and a small nose stud sparkled in the flickering candle flame. The necklace around her neck was always around neck, it seemingly never left, it was a stone, or a crystal or something that was both, whatever it was it was shaped into a tear drop and hung just above the cleft of her breasts
but now that we know what she looks like we know that from this candle lit room only the outline of her can be seen, she's stood there reading the piece of paper, maybe asking herself why, or maybe correcting it, it would remain un-known. She placed the piece of paper back on to the oak desk, quickly running her finger allowing the surface, feeling to oak and the imperfections of the wood as she did. She rush to the small widow and gazed out into the moon light seeing a dark figure below stood waiting with a carriage. She ran over to the far side of the room, grabbed a hand full of the papers of the desk, blew out the candle and fled down the stone steps. She slowed as she got to the level where other people were and crept down the stairs taking her time to make sure she didn't fall. She finally reach a large oak door at the bottom of the stairs, her she grab one of the bags hung up just inside the door and pushed all of the papers into the leather satchel and then looked up at the great oak door.
an audible sigh was heard from somewhere to the left, down one of the great passages leading off this vast hall, she knew the layout of the building, knew where the door which she wanted was, it was towards the sigh, she stood there for a while and then stepped back into the darkness against the great oak door and waited for the slow, rather old and greying security guard to make his way past her. A spark hit her imagination and at the last moment she managed to grab the keys out of the security guards pocket without him noticing anything and him plodding along on his round. She waited until he had firmly got past her and was down the right hand passage way, she glanced up towards the stairs which she had come down and turned the left corridor.
This corridor, pitch black, only small slits of light filtered in through the small darkened and dust covered windows, the floor, well the old carpet, which seemed to be all of the floor consisted off, went up and down and the slits of light gave off some of the dark red carpet. The doors on the side were oak, a paler one that the others within the building, she knew they were locked, they always were, there was no reason to open them or to see what was behind them. Many of the people who were within the building that she had, had contact with had not see the doors open, but how... were new doors put there... this thought ran through her head as she made her way along the corridor.