The half-moon hung flat on a wintry night in the Cold Mountains. Giving no hint of the bloodshed to come. But in this icy, barren territory, I felt it wash over my skin, the brisk wintry blast, simply to be greeted by the rhythm of my heart, repeatedly and again. However, everyone froze as he drew his sword. Its sharpness would injure the air apart from him. Pressing down with his power and superior strength, he dragged the blade backward towards her face. When she least expects it, he knocks the blade from her grasp until it lands just unreachable. He steered his elbow into her face, almost knocking her unconscious. He gets to his feet, standing over her. The tilt of the sword is pointed towards her heart in both hands-on grips. He plunges the sword into her rib cage. She gasped for air. The sound of a sword being drawn from a scabbard signaled her end. Something about his eyes captured m
The door slapped open at the exact moment. And it surprised Catherine to see him there. The man from earlier She'd tried her hardest to keep a poker face on. She was a professional, after all, and she had seen worse. It would not phase her. His smile vanished, giving her a piercing look that had her freezing in her spot. Did he remember her? She didn't have to contemplate that long for the answer since he took her grips and pulled her in. "Why the hell are you here?" he exclaimed. I'm a..." Catherine stuttered. She would've taken up the challenge had he not been rushing. He grinned, slashing her off as she peeled her palms from his grasp. "You work here?" Frowning, they both went to the table as Catherine brought back the brown manila envelope she'd forgotten from yesterday's meeting. "Yes, and can you please let me go?" She asked. She will not swerve like all the others. Catherine thinks she recognized him from somewhere else now that she can see him w
She saw a coin, an ancient-looking hand covered in dirt, the engravings worn and the head so stained from time. She held it in her left hand, staring at the mud that was dirtying her skin. Flipping it over and over. so close to her face that the coin had the aroma of musty blood and rustiness. She turned to her right palm and in the midst of the seizing was a new cloverleaf, fresh and beautiful. And as far as Catherine could remember, according to Irish tradition, those who found a four-leaf growth were destined for good luck, as each petal in the clover symbolizes good omens for faith, hope, love, and luck for the finder. A perfect sphere of clique dew crowned the leaf, reflecting a picture of Catherine's face: grated and peaceful, yet the sadness was recognizable. When she flipped back the coin, the form of the mysterious man had freed himself and journeyed over to the cloverleaf, stirring the growth of a powerful root and even blurrin
That very same night, she had the feeling of being unleashed and welcoming yet odd; she was frightened to even close her eyes, but her bed was her oasis. She had always had a little sparkle of joy before falling asleep. She was that way from childhood. Her bed was her favorite thing, and it made her as happy as any other treatment. And when her thoughts became nonsense and more fascinating, she knew she was falling asleep. Now all she had to do was let go. Someone sneaked into her bed and crawled their hand into her nightgown, near her perfect mountains. He heard her gasp when he sucked one of her buds. He didn't care if anyone could hear her moaning in his name outside her bedroom. Besides, he just needed a release. "God! Mr. Walton, stop it! " She tried to push him away, but he automatically slid his hand through her nightgown and touched her where it was wet and moist. Their emotions were on high, and before they knew it, they began to kiss passionately. As they k
Why did he swallow that pill, anyway? Sean couldn't even fathom it. But this place was wonderful. A little scary, but hell, he could manage this. After all, he was Sean David Walton. Nothing scares him anymore, not even death himself. Walking past her, Sean noticed something was familiar. This place was silent, too silent even for his liking. Furthermore, the freezing cold winter wind was unnatural to his senses.He wondered if it was based on these simple experiences in his reality or on a mass scale in his consciousness. Or maybe fate was trying to play with him. After all, Sean was not a popular gentleman in London. Yes, he was rich and powerful, but he had fewer friends and acquaintances, and he was not a good individual, and he admitted that perhaps this experience resulted from his ability to mock the reality of its existence. For a change, if this was a joke made in heaven, then it's on him altogether. Sean thought to himself. He had
As they walked up to the mountain, its shadows greased over the smooth backs of hills and fluttered across the valley clumped with icy pine. Both marveled at its beauty as they kept on walking up, fearing what lay ahead. A thirst for adventure and charm awakened in her heart and flowed out into the tips of her toes, compelling her to want to run straight into the embrace of the proud mountains. The air was chilling, but they went on and on while the skies darkened. The acoustic landscape was at once familiar to Catherine. They continued moving up; they didn't dare to stop; she was tired as hell, weary with the burden of long-closed eyes; she could have easily pulled off being a walking zombie, dead on the inside but subconsciously awake. However, when they reached the peak, both were speechless. She stood atop the rocky surface and lifted her arms in accomplishment. Clouds swirled around her in an icy greeting, and snow coated the mounta
London Catherine woke up and howled in genuine misery, seeing her bitten mark with fiery veins encircling her arm. Her body was glowing from the inside out. She was frightened. For hours, she lay there alone, crying, and, worst of all, burning. The morning sun shines through the tiny window, adding light to her hell, and the burn was unbearable, as she had been there all night and no one had heard her screams for help.A sense of grief washed over her at the moment. She was going to die here unattended. Every minute her heart beat slower, and every second her slow death was near. The distress and burning hadn't ceased, but after being in agony for hours upon hours, her mind was no longer her own. The hardest part was that the burn took her to the verge of consciousness but never let her fall over into oblivion. She could still feel her body, yet she couldn't move it. So, she lay gazing at the window, awaiting death.
Catherine ran through a maze of buildings and snaking side streets as the sky rumbled and heavy rain bounced off the cobblestones. A storm suppressed the sun, graying the world around her. Drops of rain beat against her skin like hammers when Sean's voice can be heard from the distance trying to stop her from running. Reaching her, "Sean, I realize you have these ideas about me, and now your cousin is involved in our quest, but the worst part is that I don't know how to trust you." She justified her action as they went into the bus shelter, drying themselves. "I'm still terrified of what's going on in the Land of Nod, and yet you accepted it without question and asked me to justify it myself."She added. I'm sorry, but we called for help! We needed him to explain everything to us and give us some more understanding about what happened. After all, he had the expertise and he'd been studying the answers to this phenomenon since he started dreaming about the Cold