The Girl with Eyes like the Forest (Intro/Teaser) by Izotz, literature
Literature
The Girl with Eyes like the Forest (Intro/Teaser)
“You must keep going.” The voice from the darkness. No form, no shape, no color, merely an empty echo, void of emotion.
“I'm trying! … I'm trying...” I answer, my own voice strained and weak, weary from my seemingly endless work.
“The balance must be preserved.”
“I know, it's just... so hard.” I shudder, muscles trembling. “Can't I just rest? Can't another pick up the mantle?”
“The balance must be preserved.”
“I know! You think I don't know?! I have seen too much to deny it!” It is almost a scream, but comes out as a hoarse whisper instead, my body unab
He lifted his head just in time for the steel-clad boot to come crashing into his face with the full weight of the mammoth beast that was his foe. There was a crunch, sharp pain, a taste of metal and a dull numbness. Nothing felt right as the smaller warrior fought to his feet, trying to recover only to shudder and fall onto the stone floor once again.
"Rise, Edrin." The large man's voice was as powerful as he was, cold and hard, edged with silent fury. "Rise. I am not finished with you."
The slighter man managed to find purchase on a single knee, hands upon the guards of his sword which held him upright, looking much the part of a penitent
The hunter sits at the bar, sipping from his mug of ale, dressed in dark, worn leathers, hair wet and hanging loosely. All around him the townsfolk laugh and chatter in the warm light as they nurse their own drinks and meals. The hunter's eyes glint and point towards a distant corner of the room where a man shares the company of scantily-clad women.
***
The knife juts from the table, dark stains upon the blade that glints in the pale moonlight pouring in from the window by the bed. Upon the white, clandestine sheets lies a still form in peaceful repose, similar dark stains upon the breast of his tunic. Beside the table, the hunter sits, on
It began with a dream.
In the dream, I was flying. I’d never flown in a dream before, but had heard stories that dreams about flying were important, contained messages from the future. I’d never taken much stock in premonitions, but I treasured the dream nonetheless. I moved, suspended in midair by some invisible force, without the help of so much as a single feather. Wings were for lesser beings; I used freedom to spirit me away. I could twist in spirals, flailing but never falling, nervous but never scared. And I was nimble, quick as a raindrop striking a leaf, rushing over lakes and forests and even an entire ocean, waves glint
Joel followed his usual route to the well. It was his only sanctuary, even after everything that happened with Alex he came here. It made him feel like she was with him. He missed her more than he cared to admit to others: he missed her long chestnut waved hair, the way her hazel eyes shone in the dark, her scar just above her right eye, everything. He never understood why she left. One day she was with him, happy and the next she was gone. Vanished like she never existed.
So everyday he would walk to the well in hopes she was to return. She never did but he never stopped going.
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"Come on Alex answer your phone.
Words in red lipstick on a rough cement wall. Ice floes on puddles, cutting through nylon tights and the skin of her feet.
I think I was a shooting star,
fallen from the sky.
I'm wishing for a miracle
to teach me how to cry.
Alice stood in the flickering streetlight and stared at her poem, fighting the urge to laugh. Somewhere in the distance, a car honked and someone shouted; midnight city symphony, even though it had to be long past midnight, really. She still had her purse but her phone was missing just like her shoes, and she couldn't remember whether she'd ever worn a watch that night.
“Are you lost?”
Smudged lipstick st
I'm going out of my fucking mind. I can't even explain how. I've tried, so many times I've tried, but too often I'm dismissed as being tired or stressed. It's so much more than that.
Write it down, that's what he said. Write down everything I've experienced; make my words brutal, precise... succinct. But therein lies the problem, I've far too much experience beating around the bush. I'm not accustom to candor. I'm not really accustomed to speaking at all, not about myself anyway - not about my problems. So. I'm just going to take everything really fucking easy, I'm going to rock my whiskey glass against my desk while I decide what to type, a
Hand in Hand with the Damned by xXMaploryXx, literature
Literature
Hand in Hand with the Damned
Violet awoke with a gasp.
Her breathe came in puffs, and she felt tear slide gently down her face. Her hands reached up to wipe them away, but she stopped when she saw the dirt and grime upon them. With a frown, Violet struggle to stand up, only to find out that she simply can't.
"What in the world-" She whispered as her consciousness came to.
Violet looked around in bewilderment. She didn't recognize where she was, but she saw her car near her; the bright turquoise color was hard to miss. However, her car seemed to be in a even worst condition than she was. After surveying the scene, she drew a conclusion. Apparently, she had driven off t
it was like dry ice
your eyes when i said
what i said
like dry ice was pressed on my heart
and you didn’t hit back
you didnt yell
you just watched as i tore you apart
and dry ice has eaten the warmth from my soul
my hearts smoked
burning
like white crumbled coal
and you watched as i ravaged
you watched as i burned
you watched my destruction
then came your turn
you stood there in silence
with pain in your eyes
absorbing the trauma
of all of my lies
and dry ice has eaten the warmth from my soul
my hearts smoked
burning
like white crumbled coal