Bloodlines - ProloguePrologueBeams of light reflected across the old ruins. Minuscule particles embedded the weathered stones, causing the stones to have a shimmered glow of a thousand colors. Many years of elemental exposure had reduced towering columns to mere stumps, grand walls to waist high inconveniences. Age had allowed the forest to overcome the ruins. Great oaks had torn apart the stone with immense root systems and brush had cluttered the grounds. Peace that only time could bring whispered through the ruins, mixed with the slightest hint of sorrow.A young boy, not a day over eleven, hid behind a
Fawns and CherriesFawns and CherriesOnce upon a time there was a beautiful young maiden, who had hair the color of sunbeams and eyes the color of gleaming emeralds dancing through a woodland glade, singing a soft song. She found herself within the realm of the fawn's tree keep. The tree keep rose above and around the glade. Reaching around with its branches, the tree kept everything but the fawns out. But through her dancing, the young maiden had somehow found a way through the branches of the tree. The fawns jumped to their feet in alarm and to her surprise they began to dance around her, playing their strange ins
A New HopeAerie sat with his back to the hard black stone of his cell. A beam light streamed through a barred window above.Pain struck his heart like an iron fist to his chest. The strike left him breathless, heartbroken. Aerie’s life seemed like a Shakespeare play, hard to understand and the purpose hidden. Such grand design was hard for his natural eyes to see.A sharp cry caught his ear. Above, Aerie saw a familiar falcon perched upon the window sill. A new hope crossed Aerie's spirit as his father’s bird flew down and dropped a key in his lap.
TargetSweat dripped from the brow of the old scientist. He stood, pale faced, in front of the blank teleprompter. Reporters swarmed around the wooden podium, eager to tear him apart with scissor-like-questioning.Only yesterday, his colleagues had finished their secretive research. Unlike his fellow members of the science community, he was the whistle blower. Now, the nation watched him on television.Opening his mouth, the scientist prepared to speak.“My friends-” he quivered.A bang caused an eruption of panic. Color faded from the room as the scientist realized that he had been shot. The Mail-men had gotten him first.
This is the Death of MeThe hunger within that claws the cage that is my stomach. Cage the beast. Make it angry. Play Pandora. Back to the beginning, repeat step one.Deadly repetition never ends. Misery becomes my saturation. Drink the wine of lust and pretend its love. Close my eyes and believe. It's all good.This leaves an empty place inside, one that only you can fill. But who are you and why do I feel the need to swim the ocean for you?Compulsions drive my actions, gives me no control to this story's end. The quill in my hand drips with blood, carving account onto my
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