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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #478884
One hope to save the world from eternal darkness, will fate doom the world or save it?
Author's note: This story is rated PG-13 because of some scenes of intense violence and slight gore in later chapters.

The secret in the Shadows


A secret well kept, an evil well slept…brought together by destiny yet doomed to denial…a bond unbreakable, a fate unthinkable…








What your about to read, you can never repeat. For who knows what evil would spawn from it. This story starts long ago…



         Chapter 1,
The crumbled walls of life…


A great evil rest in the house full of darkness and secrets...


         I have come to tell you a story of a legend. I must warn you though; this story is not of the faint of heart, weak of soul, nor absence of wisdom. A story of the souls of the lost and how they all find their resting place in their true home, but you must be patient for this will be a very, very long story…and it all begins long ago, with one small, lonely boy.

         Walking down to the dinning table to meet his parents, all he knew of life at all for he was home taught by his father whom taught him Arithmetic, History, and Geology, and his mother taught him English and Literature. They were the only family he knew of because other relatives never came to visit. He was a ten-year-old boy, short brown hair with hazel eyes and pale skinned because of always roaming the castle he lived in and never the outside. As far as he was concerned there was no “outside world”. Only the world that existed in the walls of his castle…his parents and his castle were his “world”.
         The young boy pulled out a chair at the huge, beautiful table below an enchanting diamond chandelier that looked as though a rainbow was captured inside the crystals. It was a grand castle, that used to be a fortress before being abandoned then recreated into a home suitable for the richest of kings, and the child lived a happy life here with his parents inside his “world” within the walls of one of the grandest castles in England at the time. The year was 1579. The date to be exact was December 19th, the boy’s birthday. He was excitedly awaiting nothing less than a grand cake for the occasion, which his parents promised, would be his best birthday yet.
         “Yes my son, your birthday will be that of one the king of England only dreams about.” His father had told him. The chef, the only other resident of the castle, then walked in with a grim expression upon his face.
         “What is wrong Watson? It’s my birthday or did you forget? You should be celebrating! Bring me my cake and wake my mother and father!” the boy announced happily.
         “That is the bad news my young master. I found both your mother and father dead in their bedroom this morning…both slaughtered in their sleep.” He grimily whispered.
         “What do you mean, Watson? Is this a joke, for if it is it is not funny and I would like you to put an end to it. Now call upon my mother and father and wake them! I want to see them here right now so they can wish me a happy birthday Watson! Go now!” the boy ordered, now irritated at him.
         “I can not comply with your wishes my young master. They are dead. You may go see for yourself. I am truly sympathetic about all of this…and on your birthday. You have my up most sympathy my young master.” The boy was now furious and yelled,
         “If you are too lazy to summon my parents here on my own birthday I will go call upon them myself and prove you wrong! You lazy swine!” The boy stormed up the cases of stairs, running as fast as he could, as if he was a storm of anger, lightening gleaming in his eyes.
         “That old lazy cook. He is good for nothing more than his cooking.” The boy thought as he ran to his parents. He got to their door, slung it open calling out,
         “Mother! Father! It’s the morning of my birthday! Wake up and come join me!” but they could not answer. The sight that lay in front of him, a disturbing sight indeed. His parents lay dead on their bed, slaughtered monstrously, the sheets, bed and floor stained a crimson red. The boy dropped to his knees and wept.
         “No! This cannot be! This cannot be! Mother! Father! Please wake up! Please!” he called out, again no reply. He raced out of the room in a fury of sorrow, anger, and confusion. He had lost his way, his precious world crumbling in his small hands. He ran until he could no longer recognize the section of the castle he was in. He had run into a section of the castle long forgotten with its past. It was a dark, long corridor in which spiders freely wove their webs along the walls and ceiling. An intricate pattern only comprehended by great minds. Like works of art, memorizing and beautiful; the strings a gray silver, shining in the dim light of torches, barely touching the darkness swallowing the long, eerie hall. He stopped running, now unable to see his way, and walked cautiously, watching all directions for something…but what he did not know.
         He felt a presence other than his own here, one of great evil.
         “If…if you are here then show yourself murderer! I will kill you for the death of my parents, for that will never be forgiven in my eyes!” he called out into the darkness, now not afraid of anything at all, even death and was ready to look it in the eyes if forced, to avenge his parents’ death.
         “Oh really? But how do did you know it was me? Better yet how did you see me young one?” an icy voice echoed through the corridor and bouncing past his ear.
         “I don’t see you I just…knew you were here.” He replied, now with a deep fear settling inside him.
         “My dear boy, you have a talent that can not go overlooked. Your parents did not inherit it as you did. I gift of sensing things that seem not to be there…yet you know they are there do you not my boy? That is why you were spared, and if you do me a small favor I’ll give you all you ever dreamed of.” The eerie voice said as the thing it belonged to still hid in the shadows where the light dared not shine, not even the smallest amount of light.
         “You took everything I ever wanted! I had a perfect world already with my parents in my home…now they are gone, dead along with my reason to live. Why should I do the murdered of my world, my life, a favor.” He said stubbornly.
         “Because you do want more. Do you not? Wish other things, do you not? What your parents could not give you my boy?” the voice whispered out of the shadows.
         “Well…you can give me anything? Anything I want?” the boy now asked remembering the desire that lay deep within, beyond the memory of his parents, beyond the thought of his castle walls, beyond all of that…a loneliness that rested in the darkest shadows of his soul. Not being around other children his age ever, never being with anyone but his parents, seeing them so happy together and wondering if he would ever have that made a certain scar that lay in his heart. In a shaky, unsure voice, speaking his inter most, most secret desires, he asked,
         “Could…could you make me older? 17 years old…forever?”
         “Of course but age is a gift along with a curse I have to warn you my young boy. Along with age comes loss of innocence, no longer a child you will no longer think like one either. Do you understand this?” the voice inquired.
         “Yes, I…understand. That is what I wish…and if I may one other thing as well.” The boy pronounced nervously still as he was very unsure of his decision.
         “What is your second wish then?” the voice said annoyed at two requests.
         “I want…to have my own princess, to be mine forever.” He said in a now sure, now mature tone.
         “Well, you are more like myself than I recognized. I shall do as you wish yet it will take time to bring you your princess, and you will have to wait for her.” The shadowy figure said, now allowing part of his face to be seem, just enough to see the sly smile on his face. The boy nodded, and the figure slung up his hand, a beam of light shot out of his hand and danced around the young boy, shooting him up off his feet, transforming the 10 year old boy into a 17 year old young man. When the painful transformation was over he was dropped to the floor, and he passed out from weakness. The next morning he woke up in his own bed, and deciding it was all a dream got up to go eat breakfast and meet his parents.
         He rushed down the hall, to the kitchen. An eerie dead silence befell the castle, and a dark shadow fell over everything in the castle, driving away any light that did exist there before, swallowing it all in everlasting darkness. The boy ran into the kitchen, scared because of the strange form the castle had taken and there lay the cook, Watson, dead, stabbed by a kitchen knife, one sharper than a butcher knife, that lay beside him, it’s blade now a crimson red.
         “This…cannot be! Was…it all real? No it cannot be! It can NOT be!” the boy yelled out, a river of sorrow running from a waterfall of tears, flowing off his face. He ran out of the kitchen and just started running, away from something it seemed, what he couldn’t decide, maybe from the truth, from his shattered life, or maybe just running from himself. He finally ran into a mirror, one he would not have noticed if it weren’t for what stood before him rested inside it. It was himself…only he was 17 years old now.
         At first it was unreal, yet thinking on it he did realize that everything was littler that he remembered before, and things were much more of an ease of reach for him. He stood there for a long time, staring into the eyes of a 17 year old, into his own eyes. He finally realized it was all the truth and he must now live with the truth. Walking away from the mirror, suddenly a tall man in a black cloak, long and satin, his hair black as a moonless night, eyes gleaming in the darkness, a eerie dead silver, truly haunting, so haunting it chilled the very soul.
         “So are you ready to complete my request now I have granted you your first wish?” the man hissed, his voice breathed a cold and deadly evil into the air, the sound cutting into his ears like a cold steel sword, stabbing into it slowly and painfully, the sound, the definition of evil. The boy gathered up all his courage, and gave up all his pride and answered,
         “Yes.”
         “What is your name, then boy.”
         “Darius.”
         “Good. A well picked name if I may say.”
         “What is yours?”
         “Master. That is what you will call me and all you will know of my name. Understood?”
         “Yes master.”
The “request” was to paint a picture. A picture of a place Darius would wish to live in. He worked on it for days and nights on end, with no rest. No sleep, no food, and no water for months solid. All he would do is paint, and a gift for it he did have, yet the place he painted was a picture of the landscape of his heart, now nothing but loneliness, sorrow, and anger withheld…a place of eternal shadows, eternal darkness, and eternal sorrow.
         He was said to have lost his mind during this time. If this were true, only time would tell. The people at the local village would go tease him, saying things like,
         “Why wouldn’t you come out and play? Or
         “Why do you lock yourself inside? What are you hiding?”
He just ignored them, ignored everything and everyone except “master” and drowned out all memories of his past, everything; nothing existed anymore except the painting. After 6 months of nothing but painting the painting Darius was finally finished. Then he was ordered to bewitch it. Just after it was bewitched, it started to glow and eerie glow, not a welcoming glow, nor warm, nor beautiful as many people would imagine. Instead it glowed of darkness, the dark colors swirling into a whirlpool, pulling all towards it, and Darius as well, then he was pulled inside. It was worse here than the cursed castle, it truly was a world of darkness; a feeling of loneliness haunted it, cutting into the very heart.
         Something ran by him, it was some sort of creature he was sure but what he did not know, it was very fast and seemed to blend into the shadows that crept into every corner and on every wall. No lights shined here at all. Shadows and darkness swallowed the surroundings. Darius started to walk forward slowly and cautiously, scared of whatever creature ran by him before.
         “Wh…who’s there?” he called out, a cold chill running straight down his back. He waited for a few moments and nothing answered. Suddenly the thing jumped out right in front of him and then done something he couldn’t believe, he changed into him right before his eyes. Instead of being deeply scared like he thought he would, he felt calm and was amazed by the thing. He stood there calmly in front of it as it done the same and after a few minutes it changed into a black puddle and scurried away, to where he wasn’t sure.
         He was enchanted by these creatures of darkness, and studied them from afar for weeks watching them scurry extremely fast and then disappear into the shadows. Then one day he ran out of a group of these creatures he now called shadows and amazingly they ungrouped and made a path on which he could walk through them! He walked slowly forward between these things, each one watching him as if they were honored to be in his presence. He stopped in the middle of the stadium full of shadows and said,
         “Hello.” They all stared at him, now in even more amazement than before. Finally one stepped forward and said,
         “Hello master Darius. We are your humble servants. What do you wish of us?”
An evil grin formed upon his face as he thought, and then pronounced,
         “I want you to exit the painting and bring me more servants! Bring as many as possible!” A glimmer of pure delight lit up his eyes as his “servants” went to fetch the world and make them bow down to him. The thought of revenge was so sweet he could taste it. They spread around all the lands, tormenting the world and swirling it into darkness. The people stopped leaving their homes because of great fear. Eventually the people got fed up with the shadows and sent a wizard to find the origin of the shadows and close them in. He searched everywhere for some shred of a clue as to where they could be coming from. Finally, following rumors told by word of mouth though the towns he was led to England and then to the town of the castle. The town was more infested than any other place on earth at the time and almost no one but the stubborn, brave, and foolish villagers lived there. He asked all of them if anything seemed strange in the village, any certain place inhabited by anyone that seemed any bit haunted, all he asked pointed to the castle and one told of how the people who lived there before are now deceased except the boy of the family that lived there who went crazy and then a few months later disappeared after the death of his parents and how some of the villagers went looking for the boy not much later after told of the incident by an unknown source and didn’t return. They had said they had visited the family and the young boy seemed very lonely and desperate for friends, only alive because his parents were there with him always. After receiving the information the wizard said,
         “Thank you for providing me with all your information. It shall serve very helpful to me. I must ask of you one last thing though, how would I get about going to the castle?”
         “Well, no one goes to the castle because of what happened and I’d advise you to do the same and stay away from that place.” The villager said clammily, obviously very scared of the place himself.
         “Thank you for the advice.” The wizard wisped into the wind as it blew his words into its intertwined web of swift moving air. He was a wise wizard, both in appearance and in personality as well. He had long gray, wavy hair that crawled lazily down his back, which wisped behind him, and a beard gray, long and wavy as well. He was very tall as well. He had the essence of wisdom and the appearance of a creature as old as time itself. His voice, smooth and constant unlike what most would think. He decided he’d find his own way to the castle by cutting straight though the wood that surrounded it.
         It was a long walk to the top of a small hill, which the castle lay on. When he got to the castle, the very feeling he got the first step he took directly towards it was enough to drive him away yet he continued to the door, slung it open and he walked inside. It was the gloomiest place his eyes ever sat their sight on, the very essence of sadness was carried in the castle. It was engulfed in shadows and darkness, where light could not thrive. He hated it here but continued the long, dull journey for the sake of humanity, and that was all.
         He finally found the painting, boarded it up and enchanted it so the boards were unmovable except if it were to be burnt off so the shadows or shadow knights as he decided to call them could never roam the earth again. He had also learned many things about the castle and the shadows as he were traveling, such things as the location of the painting, much about the boy that lived there but most about the shadows themselves. He wrote a book about them if they were to ever be set free in the castle ever again. He returned to the village and made many copies of the book and warned the people of the painting and the shadows, and just before leaving announced a warning to the world, and this is what he said,
          “Never remove the boards from the cursed painting, nor bother it at all. For if you do you will be tempting fate and not just your own but the world’s fate, it now rest in the hands of any and all that can reach the painting’s location which I have left in the hands of all that wish to look for it.” Then he left, where no one knows, why is still a mystery, yet I still say it was the feeling of pure evil that rested forever in the small town in the countryside of England, because of a castle and one little boy.
         This is the story at hand, this is of a gift and a curse, of friendship and betrayal, and how two people, linked by fate, brought together by destiny, will determine the fate of the world and all humanity. So if you shall; keep a sharp ear, and sharp mind as the story now complicates.


Chapter 2,
A final goodbye




         It was an early, misty, morning as dew cooled the icy winds ever more and wrapped around the trees, crept though guarded walls of the homes of townspeople, hardened the cold, muddy ground, and chilled the souls of those who dare walk the ground of the accursed castle that rested on the steep hill, hidden in shadows and death for all eternity.
[indent}It was the same day in which the shadow knights emerged from the castle, an anniversary the day of shadows, as that was what it was called and on this day no one would dare emerge from their houses nor enter the town, yet this year was to be different. This year the streets were flooded with people from all around, all except the townspeople, who had never and would never emerge from their houses on that day no matter what the occasion.          People from all walks of life came, reporters, authors, scientists, modern mythologists, shadowologists(scientist whom had studied the shadows merely by whatever evidence that could be collected), people from local towns only miles away and from towns half way around the world, priests, fencers, marital arts masters, even some royalty attended the event, all for different reasons, for two couples of shadowologist were going to enter and examine the painting on the cursed day.
         Reporters came televise the event, authors to write about the brave couples, scientists to examine the castle itself for any sort of strange substances, the mythologists came to confirm that any such place as the castle existed, the people, some believers of the tale others not, many had come to face their own fear of the heart chilling place, and others to prove to themselves that what they believed in truly did exist.
         The priests came to pray that the shadows would not be released into the world once again; the fencers ready to fight for the sake of the world if needed the marital arts masters there for the same purpose, and the royalty came simply for entertainment. But their reasons is not the point, the point is they all came, all to see two couples walk into the place all feared, no matter how brave, the fear that existed naturally in all the hearts of the living, resting, hiding in the shadows of their souls, eating slowly away at them, tormenting them if they let it until they would finally reach their breaking point and wish into the heavens some peace from the tormenting fear.
         The couples stood there for their own reasons though in the same profession. The first woke weak smiles on their faces, confident in themselves, yet feeling the fear increase scornfully in their souls. They were there to simply disprove all theories of the shadows and how they existed at some time. To them they never existed…or was this true? Could they ever really deny the feeling eating away at their souls as they stood on the shadow drenched ground? Only time would tell.
         It was so early in the morning that it all felt like a dream, or a nightmare. Only they were well aware that it wasn’t a dream, or a nightmare. Standing beside them was a small little girl. Only six years of age, fairly long hair that looked as though it was made of strands of the glittering sun. It was wavy and soft, and cast the appearance of innocence upon her.
         Her skin was barely tanned, a soft peach color and her eyes a crystalline blue color, like two crystals rested in her eyes. She looked much like a porcelain doll. Yet even as a small child, fear shimmered in her eyes. She grasped her mother’s hand tightly, and clammily as she looked over at the shadow cast castle.
         “It’ll be just fine, dear. We’ll be back very soon, I promise.” Her mother told her softly, as she looked down at her fear stricken child. If her parents did not return, she was to be taken care of by their assistant until their return, so that she wouldn’t have to be taken to a foster home until they came back, and this, the girl knew and dreaded.
         Her parents looked warmly down at her, yet still a glimmer of dough and sadness shined in their eyes as they both said,
“Just in case we don’t…come back, we give you this. It’s your to keep if we come back or not.” Then her mother bent down, pulled her daughter’s hand away from her own and pulled out from her pocket, a beautiful crystal that shined in all greatness of it’s beauty.
         “It’s a memento, something to remember us by forever.” Her mother softly said, smiling warmly, but tearfully down at her.
         The other couple stood solemn, quite, and nervous. They did not fear the castle truly, for the castle wasn’t what scared them. What did was the fact that, standing by their side was a little boy, only the age of six, standing happily by their side. He looked into his mother’s tear flooded eyes and said to her,
         “What’s wrong mom? You’ll come back really soon I bet! Really! That old, crumbling castle can’t be so dangerous right?” She looked down at him, at the brink of weeping, and answered her son’s question.
         “That old, crumbling castle is the most dangerous place on earth. Within it’s old, crumbling walls, it withholds a greater evil than you could ever comprehend. There, the soul trembles, and heart hides behind the mind, yet if the mind were to give into the overcoming shadows that loam the castle grounds and wraps itself around mind and chill the skin beyond what any winter coat nor any amount of protection could ward away, and it reaches the heart and soul, then that castle could capture you, keep you forever, and you could never see a such a thing as death. That’s how it was…when the shadows roamed the castle, and if…by some horrid stroke of fate, they were released from their imprisonment, it would be that way again. If that happens, and even if it doesn’t you are forbidden from entering that castle. It’s not just some old castle. Yet we are very trained for this, and can survive the trip, that’s why I have to believe we’ll return. I…just hope and pray we return…” she stated wisely as tears now flooded her face. Her son looked deep within her eyes, and in a child like whisper replied,
         “I’m…sorry. I didn’t know.”
         “I thought we told you!” she said, completely alarmed by his reply.
         “Yeah…you did but I thought since they weren’t around anymore, then the castle was nothing more that some old building.” Her son said.
         “There are still, even without the shadows inhabiting the castle, many lost souls that venture around the castle, they are the castle’s inhabitance now.” The fairly young, light brown haired woman told her son. Then her husband walked up to their son, stuck his hand in his pocket right coat pocket and dug around in it, like he was searching for buried treasure, then finally jerked his hand back out of his pocket, grapping some sort of item very tightly. He then knelt down on one knee so that he would be the same height as his son, pulled his young hand from his side and reached out, extended so that it rested only inches away from his hand, then he opened his son’s hand and rested the hand he had the item in, in his son’s hand.
         “This…this gift is only to be used if the shadows are set free again. If they are not, keep it in some safe place, a box, or drawer, or something like that. It’s also something to remember us by, whether we come back or not, because one day you’ll leave us no matter what. Never sell it, or loan it to someone, nor give it to someone as a gift. Keep it. And I mean what I say young man. You’d better remember every word I’m telling you! Ok?” his father stated, dropping the item into his young son’s hand, and closing it over the item.
         ‘It was cold…that was the first thing I thought when my dad dropped it into my hand…cold and solid, very solid. Next, I had moved it around a little with my thump, feeling of it and listening to the sound it made when it was rubbed against itself. It sounded like something metal, and felt it some places, especially cold and smooth, other places were more rough and warmed by the heat created by my dad’s and my own hand. I felt of it a little more and discovered it had a chain on it, whatever it was. Then, slowly and unsurely I opened my hand. Inside rested the amulet my father always had around his neck. If it were any other amulet I might have complained and said,
“Why did you give me this?” but I knew what this was, and its importance to my parents and smiled proudly at it.
         “Thanks!” I said happily to my parents, for being given this amulet meant that I was officially ready to go on some of the trips my mother and father took, if not too dangerous. Obviously I wasn’t allowed to come with them that time but when and if they returned I’d get to go on the next, not so dangerous, job that my parents when on…’ recalled the young boy years later. This young boy’s name was Samuel, Sam for short. His father’s name was Daniel and his mother’s name was Lean, all seemingly normal people on the outside yet deep within the weathered by age, dimmed by tragedy, yet still a shimmer of light lingering eyes of Daniel, a secret lay undiscovered there, there in the darkness, there where the shadows of the past of cast for eternity and light somehow lost its way.          The alarm went off on the two pares of scientists watches at the same time. It was 8:00 a.m., July 24th, 1986; exactly at this time the two pares went off, calling out last goodbyes to their children and taking the long walk up the steep hill, into the one place they hated, the one place they never wanted to steep foot in, the same place they were heading into.
         A heart-chilling wisp of wind swept over the town, and slowly crept through the skin and into the bones of those standing outside, the cold, icy feeling resting there.
         “What just happened?”
         “Why’d it get so cold all a sudden?”
         “Where’d that wind come from?”
         “Did the temperature just drop about 20 degrees or am I just hallucinating?” The crowd exclaimed, shivering and shaking in the icy cold air.
         “The temperature just dropped from 45 to 15 degrees!”
         “But how is that possible?”
         “That’s impossible!”
         “But…he’s right. Look at the thermometer.” The scientist discussed, amazed at the sudden drop in temperature.
         “I advise that everyone find somewhere warm to stay, the temperature keeps dropping and soon it’ll be too cold for anyone to be outside without risking falling ill.” One scientist announced. The assistant, took the hand of the little girl and said,
         “We have to go find a hotel now.”
         “No! Not till mommy and daddy come back!” she replied stubbornly. Sam was silently listening in on their conversation. His parent’s assistant ran off when they got about half way up the hill and left him all alone. Now cold and alone, he couldn’t help but wonder where he was supposed to go.
         “I hope mom and dad get back soon, it’s…so…cold…” he thought now ignoring the whining little girl and the middle aged man trying to convince her to go now. Suddenly he heard someone yell, then without his knowing it, the little girl ran straight into him.
         “Oh! I’m sorry but I have to get away from that man! He’s trying to make me leave here when I want to wait for my mommy and daddy to come back!” she stated looking up at him. He laughed at her statement, looked down at her as he was a little taller than her and replied.
         “Your mommy and daddy aren’t coming back for a little while. Be happy you got somewhere to go and someone to watch over you.” Even so young, his steel blue eyes reflected in them a sense of sadness, for he knew he was alone. The girl looked up into his eyes, worry glowing in her crystal blue eyes, and said,
         “You mean you don’t have some stupid old man trying to drag you away from waiting for your parents?” He looked down at her, now forced to acknowledge she was there and realized she was staring up at him sorrowfully, so concerned about him; it made him blush tremendously, and he automatically turned his head away to hide it.
         “Why…why is she looking at me like that…gee…she sure is pretty…but I don’t care! Yeah! I…sure wish she’d stop staring though…” he thought, then replied, yet this time nervously.
         “Yeah…well…uh…the stupid old guy that was supposed to take care of me took off right after my parents started to leave to go to the castle.” he stated, his confidence now restored.
         “Oh… then I’m sorry…that was really mean. Well, my name’s Melody! What’s yours?” the girl questioned friendly. Sam stared at her blankly then finally answered her question.
         “Sam…” he had said, lost in thought, thinking of his parents.
         “Well, maybe the guy taking me to wherever will take you too!” Melody insisted, trying her very best to cheer him up, yet it didn’t seem to work. Suddenly the middle-aged man walked up to him and said,
         “Come on you two, I’ll take you both with me.” He stated calmly, yet his voice sounded and felt of ice. Melody turned to Sam and whispered something to him,
         “I think we shouldn’t go with him, I…have this funny feeling that he’d going to do something bad.” He had to agree, but only to himself, for there was definitely something wrong with him but he didn’t know what they should do and his decision was the key to one of two doors of fate that lay at his feet, and would decide the destiny of both children.
         Thoughts were racing through his head and filling his heart with more and more anger towards this man,
         “Why is he doing this?” “What is he thinking?” “Was Melody right to want to stay here and wait for her parents?” “Why…does this feel so wrong?” “We…we shouldn’t go with him…but what do I do…I’m so little and he’s so big…” After thinking it over, he was afraid to do anything to get away though Melody wanted to go desperately. She would have left without him but something inside the little girl’s soul wouldn’t let her abandon Sam, as if she could sense that something linked them to each other, as if destiny had chosen them for some great task, something that would either end or renew the world; this fact tormented her, and lingered there like a gentle morning’s mist, barely there yet still just enough of a feeling to keep her there.
         The man took them both by their hands and led them to his truck. He pulled out his keys and walked over to the driver’s side to unlock the door and let them in. She knew she could have run, could have started running as fast as she could and never be caught yet the feeling was still there, now almost like a cage, and though this was true she tried to ignore the feeling now, and decided she had to run and now. She tried to jerk her legs forward, but they sat dormant, as if frozen in time. She was so scared now she felt like crying but couldn’t but then, unwillingly she started to weep uncontrollable.
         Sam turned to her, and said something she could not here, all she knew is he said something because he moved his lips. Then the man ran up to her and said something that sounded like,
         “Are you ok?” Yet she could barely hear him. She was down on her knees now; how she gotten there she couldn’t figure out, yet she was there all the same as the mud soaked into the legs of her pants. The man rested his hand on her shoulder and said something in a soft easy voice to try to calm her, yet when he did she screamed loudly. Many horrid things races suddenly through her head, about things that have passed, about things that were happening then, and…about things that had not come to pass.
         It was all from that touch. She then started to violently shake, and then she placed her face into her hands and started to cry once again. The man picked her up and placed her in his truck and Sam sat beside her, watching her shiver and cry…
         What she had seen had shattered her fragile reality that rested in her mind. All she knew, all she had even been taught or learned of, everything she ever knew seemed as though it was nothing but a fairy tale.

The rewritten version of Chapters 3+4 to be posted soon.
© Copyright 2002 Eiashian Lskyia Silver (writer_25 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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