I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My dad used to say that my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history cl once said that I had perfect s. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them. I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My s. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone. Am I beautiful? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not. "You were wrong, Angelina Valentine." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers. "Calm down, Angel," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved. His voice is fading away. My hands start shake again, my breath rapidly quickening. I am losing control. I have to do something. "Goddammit!" I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles. "I am sorry, Edwin. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my to stop myself from crying. I won't cry. What's the point of crying? My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me. I spin around. A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The probable most amazing thing about him is his eyes. They are dark green. They are dangerous, beautiful and incredibly unreadable. And they are watching me.View More
Olgarias was leaning his back on the pillow, his eyes were closed. Fever was burning through his skin all the day and at night, it had been usual for him to have nightmares lately. He would scream after midnight while sweating crazily and his whole body was shaking uncontrollably, the servants had to take care of him. The Master of Health was observing his health condition and giving him medicine for cure, also trying to figure out the disease.But only Ran knew what it was. And he felt terribly guilty. His head was a complete mess and his feelings were heightened, wishing he could do something to help his master. He even thought of escaping from the capital, but he couldn't bring himself to imagine what would happen next. In Leafstone, he had somewhere to live, he had someone's protection on his life, but outside Leafstone, he was nothing. It would get harder to live his life there as a Night Walker.He led Elijah his way to his master's cha
Samlin Greenham After eating lunch, I lie on the bed and steadily place my head on his chest. He tucks me in by his arms and I close my eyes. When he first confessed to me four years ago, we didn't rush things like kissing or having physical relationship. At midnight, he used to come in my bedroom and lie beside me. Just like now, I used to lie my head on his chest and inhaled his scent deeply and he would softly kiss me goodnight. We knew and realised that our relationship wasn't simple, it was real and intense. "Who is Lake?" I ask him a minute later, wrapping my hand around his waist. "She was our neighbor, when we were at, you know, Edgemont," he replied. "I always thought she had a crush on my brother, but didn't truly express it once. But now, they are like friends." "Oh," I say. "She seems like a nice girl." "She is. Just a little talkative." Lynn starts to brush my hair idly with his fing
The morning air was dark with the smoke of burning goods.The old dry wood and countless layers of paint and varnish blazed with a fierce hungry light. Heat rose shimmering through the chill air; behind, the gargoyles and stone dragons on the castle walls seemed blurred, as if Moriah were seeing them through a veil of tears. Or as if the beasts were trembling, stirring . . ."An ill thing," Hadassah declared, though at least she had the sense to keep her voice low."Silence," said Moriah. "Remember where you are."They were heading to the Garden.Hundreds had come to the battle gates to bear witness to the burning of the Battle of Blood. The smell in the air was ugly. Even for soldiers, it was hard not to feel uneasy at such an affront to the gods most had worshiped all their lives.Moriah was thinking about his ancestors. They had overturn
I uncontrollably sit on the ground.Apparently I fall."Hey, hey, you okay?" Edwin hurriedly sits beside me."I'm fine." I answer shakily, closing my eyes. Actually I wasn't fine. I haven't seen my psychiatrist for almost a month, haven't taken my medication. Now, the flashbacks are gone, but I still have the headache.I am breathing hard.I wonder what caused the flashbacks."C'mon," he wraps my left arm around his shoulder and lifts me up. "The lake is near. You need some fresh air."I walk with him, dropping my head in his shoulder. I feel a little surprised by my act, because I don't even know him.Or maybe I do.His body scent seems familiar."Don't try to think too much. When you apply pressure to remember a thing of your past, which was maybe painful, it affects your neuron cells.""It wasn't painful. Perhaps," I stop walking.And I open my eyes.Sudd
Lynn VandestineHe reads the letter again."Stop trying to get your brother out, Stanley. Even if you can't see, he's safe in the prison. Your attempts won't do any good. Find me Garrett Greenham, I'll think of bailing your brother out. - Malum Feingold"The envelope was sealed with the symbol of The Conditorem, a white swift bird, with long, pointed wings."Are you okay?" Kramer asks softly seeing his devastated look. "Did something happen?"Lynn throws the letter on the table, "I got this letter from Malum. Warned me to not help my brother and find him Mr. Greenham.""Why are you worrying? It's just a stupid threatening letter," Kramer folds his arms. "Anyway, Olive said he missed you. He also wanted you to go visit him in Santa Monica."Lynn opens a bottle of champagne, pouring a glass, "Tell him that I am sor
Lynn Vandestine"What time is it?" Kramer asks in a low tone."Twelve thirty five," Lynn answers. They are waiting behind a generator room, hiding themselves in the dark, staring at the infirmary building. The guards standing at the towers are keeping watch with their shotguns, flashing the whole area. Lynn shifts uncomfortably in the ground, trying to keep the mosquitoes away from him."Why aren't they coming yet?" Kramer says."There must be something wrong," Lynn scowls. "The drain__ the drain under the infirmary, what if they can't open the trellis? Or__ I don't know what's happening. But I think we should go," he pulls out the loaded gun from his jeans pocket.Kramer pulls out a gun from his coat, too, with a silencer, "Okay, let's go together." They walk through a very narrow, dirty way behind the generator box, to avoid the towers' flashlights. They are careful to not make a sound or an appearanc
At the same night, Hadassah had started a big fire at the middle of the Battle of Blood, while she was in the possession of little Celandine's body. The large vessel on the fire was filled with the sacred water for witches from Black Lake. It was an inaccessible lake inside a forest, only who had witch blood in their veins, could approach there. Beside the pyre, there were some ingredients which she would need to return back to her true self"Bonesbane," she muttered and picked up the tiniest bowl contained with a few bone shaped dark green leaves. She stared at the boiling black water for a while, then dropped the leaves into it and chanted, "Confundo. The flames exploded around the pyre when the leaves touched the water, her ragged breath quickened. She took a sharp intake and knelt in front of the pyre and picked up the next ingredient."Blood Soil," she muttered and poured the brown soil and tiny pebbles into the hissi
San Francisco, USAApril 2012 Lynn VandestineHe was standing in an old, mouldy garage, where he had come to meet a guy. Actually, he had no other choice except keeping his order and coming here.His heart was throbbing with fear.At that moment, a man came into the place. He had a bald head, wrinkled skin and that kind of blue sharp eyes which made someone real scared. Two suited man with black sunglasses also appeared behind him."Agent Stanley." The old man, named Chief Malum, said in a deep voice and stopped a feet away from him."Chief Malum," Lynn replied flatly."I never asked you why you don't use your father's surname." Chief folded his arms across his chest, pinning him with his eyes.God, he hated this man."Because my so-called father was a good man. Just like you." He bantered him.Chief laughed lightly. "Oh, he was. It's so bad you killed him. You didn't need to."
Celandine observed the man curiously who just came out from the chamber, going downstairs. She noticed the small hand batch on his black robe, wondering what that might be meaning.Suddenly everything around her changed.They traveled dawn to dusk, past woods and orchards and neatly tended fields, through small villages, crowded market towns, and stout holdfasts. Come dark, they would make camp and eat by the light of the moon and the lamps. The men took turns standing watch. Celandine would glimpse firelight flickering through the trees from the camps of other travelers. There seemed to be more camps every night, and more traffic on the kingsroad by day.She somehow knew it was a dream.Morning, noon, and night they came, old folks and little children, big men and small ones, barefoot girls and women with babes at their breasts. Some drove farm wagons or bumped along in the back of ox carts. More rode: draft horses
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