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FORSAKEN

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Plastered against my palm was the damp, rough-edged wall when I walked along the guided path of darkness. There wasn’t the faintest hint of light, or the slightest wheeze of outside air. There was just the narrow pathway that went straight, down, toward . . . something. I felt something. A squeeze in my heart, and a sudden fist of panic that clenched in my stomach. It was different. A longing; a kind of sadness that came out from nowhere, held me. Stayed there.

I told myself to stop. Even ordered myself. But it was useless against the primal urge to move forward, just forward . . . and find that something. Curiosity, I thought, just a healthy dose of curiosity. But I knew it was much more, much greater; it was knowledge. Somehow I had a feeling of this familiarity, of such knowing, like I perfectly knew what lay ahead the path. Just a hunch of feeling.

But I’d forgotten. Buried it into deep oblivion that somehow managed to prick at some dormant part of my brain. And as a result, always gave me that nagging feeling that I had forgotten something so important, so vital and so much a part of me.

But what was it?

No matter how much I searched my memories there was nothing to find. But I knew. Oh I knew. There was something.

I just had to find it.

So I trudged down the darkened pathway, moving as though a thief in quiet night, panther-like. Nervous and clammy. A sharp edge in the wall cut the soft flesh of my palm, a small slash, and then there was the feeling of warm, thick liquid, flowed thinly and dropped to the ground. I heard the watery thud of it. Then all abruptly changed.

Suddenly the blackness was replaced by a scarlet vision, clouding my eyes as though a translucent haze. And my head, that sickening emptiness that was taking over crept like a crawling fog, muddling my mind. Until there was nothing. Nothing at all.

But I saw fire lit the torches that lined the walls, hanging there and guiding me as I took drunken steps.

I was succumbing. Falling.

But I had to reach the end. Needed to see for myself whatever lay ahead.

Something was pulling me from inside, forcing me to be caged in that deep, dark lonely corner.

Watch. Just watch. I’ll take care of everything. The voice was deep, cold and deadly. And I heard something in his tone; desire, maybe? Like it wanted something. Needed something.

Go there inside. I’ll take care of you.

But I was tired to the bones, and my legs felt like jelly against the sturdy ground that I walked upon. My eyes were closing, slowly, slowly. Then I saw the light.

And in the light, showered by shimmering brilliance were a pool of redness and a scatter of death stench. I walked closer despite the heaviness I felt. Walked closer. And closer. Closer, still . . .

Then I saw.

And I knew she was dead.

Did you kill her?



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This article has 23 comments. Post your own!

RobEJ said...
Sept. 25, 2009 at 4:10 pm:
It is intriguing but it does need some editing, and make sure it reads a bit better. I want to hear more
 
RobEJ replied...
Sept. 25, 2009 at 4:23 pm :
No, I meant more of the story. The short and incomplete sentences build tension. Well-crafted writing. What I mean is that at some point you may like to fine tune some of your phrases.
 
RobEJ replied...
Sept. 25, 2009 at 4:25 pm :
I meant more of the story. The short and incomplete sentences build tension. Well-crafted writing, it simply needs a few tweaks. Sorry for the misunderstanding
 
Anj16 replied...
Sept. 25, 2009 at 4:29 pm :
haha that's okay. lol. and yeah that's the prologue of the novel i'm working on so lol there's more to it as the book goes. I'm actually done, it just needs editing. A LOT OF EDITING. or maybe REVISION of the early chaps is more apt.
 
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