Chapter one:

Dark shadows danced like ghosts on the surrounding grey walls. As firelight darted about the room revealing the buildings gothic features. In a moment your eyes could visit a thousand fantasy worlds as the firelight abruptly fled about the room revealing segments of it. Particularly the dragon's head which peeped out at the top of a stone pillar and the goblins that looked down upon the room with menacing eyes. Just a few metres away lay the main source of light for the room- The fireplace. The fire blazed and crackled as the sound of a young man's voice echoed about the room.

He was not alone. A young lady lay on a red chaise lounge, her arms rested above her head as the man knelt beside her, his pale fingers smoothing her face. He was handsome, despite his pale features, heavy looking eyes and the Wild hairs that lay about his skull.

The girl had noticed the man seemed a little tense. Her name was Caroline. She too was pale (but in more of a natural way then him) and the scarlet lipstick that smothered her lips exaggerated her beauty. She was in fact not beautiful. She was plain looking but her eyes were a magnificent variety of turquoise and violet in the firelight.

She noticed that the man's eyes were almost grey and lacked the strength of life. With most people Caroline noticed that their eyes were the main pathway to their soul. As though their eyes were an indication to the sort of person they were. With this young man before her, however, it was difficult to see. It was not as though he lacked a soul because she knew him well and new it was possible for him to love, for he had loved her. She only struggled to read the emotion in his eyes when they were together and feared at anytime his passion would turn to rage. His name was Francis.

"If only…it is a phrase which haunts too many of us. I ask, what is the point? Why be concerned with the past? It is impossible to change. The only person in the world that should worry of their past faults and future fears are those of whom are in control.

The time traveller for instance; who is as real as the prince that every girl dreams will take her away from the metaphoric tower of life." Francis began.

"Life alone is no tower; indeed we are imprisoned here until death but there is no point of an escape when in truth we enjoy it much more then we imagine. To live is to fall in love and to find passions of your own, to grow and find new dreams and at times a new love but the trick is to never forget the past. But when you remember do not regret the moments you were most ashamed off. Those moments are key. Those moments taught you how to be ashamed of yourself and thus causing you to never act in such a way again" He said in a mild tone of melancholy.

Caroline shook a little.

"Is something wrong my love?" Said he.

Caroline clasped the young mans hand and removed it from her forehead sitting up abruptly.

"I feel a little faint. I think-" She began. "I think I'd better go, Francis."

Francis' eyes turned a darker shade of grey as he clasped her left hand which lay elegantly beside her. The contrast of the red chaise to her hand compelled it to appear paler then usual. A fact of which excited Francis. He felt at last that his pure white hands appeared a little less obvious and he also felt closer to Caroline as though she and he were the same creation. The idea that he could be as innocent as her was an impossible thought of which he ignored in order not to provoke his temper. A temper of which he could not control. He despised that side of himself but it annoyed him to catch a sense of fear in Caroline's eyes.

"I Love you…" He whispered.

Caroline was silent.

The anger swelled within Francis and his grip on Caroline's hand grew tighter. He attempted to fight it and to try to see past the mist of rage but too soon it overwhelmed him.

"Did you hear me?" Said he, raising his voice. "I love you, why are you not grateful?"

A tear fell from Caroline's eye. "I love you, Francis but I am afraid of you."

"Afraid!" He raged.

Had Caroline have admitted this to him before the mist of anger that had risen around him may not have arrived and she might have stood a chance of gaining sympathy from him. At this moment, however, Francis was full of rage and it was impossible to predict what he would do next