Fire and Eyes
folder
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
926
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
926
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Losing Hope
Title: Fire and Eyes
Author: RamJamsBlackBetty
Rating: R
Disclaimer: heh, heh, heh... If they weren't mine, would I be so mean to them? (Actually, I think I would... haHA!)
Archive: Y'all know the drill...
A/N: I think this will be the last chapter (for now) of this story, since this is as far as I've gotten on my hard copy that sits on my desk and says,"Write me!!!!" Anyway, this tale has been a WiP since that fateful day when my English teacher decided to unleash whatever it was that drove me to write this. If I write more for this story, y'all will be the first to know!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Losing Hope
... Curiosity prevailed over instinctual suspicion and he made his way haltingly towards the beacon, even as the other lights danced before his eyes with each step he took. ...
As he approached the light, it formed itself into a tiny silver cross. There was no light illuminating it from outside, it seemed to glow with a soft brilliance all its own.
The cross seemed oddly familiar, somehow.
n itn it hit him.
He was staring at *her* cross. The one he’d seen so many times, the one he’d even worn once when she left it with him before going on an especially long trip. He was captivated by the simple beauty of her little pendant on the silver chain he’d given to her when her other chain had broken.
Bright blue, hazel, brown, dark chocolate, then hazel again.
He managed to pull his eyes from the ember-like glow of the cross to see that it was still strung on the chain, and that it was nestled in the hallow between her collar bones. He followed with his eyes to where the chain vanished into the sheet of coppery silk that was her hair. He could only see that far because the glow from the cross was only that strong but he knew what the rest of her looked like even without the dim luminescence afforded to him by the cross.
She was deathly pale and his eyes turned the color of rain clouds, cool ashes, thick fog.
He raised his hand, as if to touch her face, as if to brush a stray strand of hair back behind her ear as he’d seen her do countless times yet had never had the privilege of doing himself.
He changed his mind, instead quietly falling to his knees and resting his head beside her hand in a moment of silent, private anguish.
His tears again dampened his cheeks with the realization that he may have actually lost her. As if it was an infectious disease, his mind rejected this thought almost before it had even been properly formed.
‘Well,’ he decided in a moment of uncharacteristic clarity, ‘if she *is* dead, I should get her out of here so there can be a proper funeral.’
He rose tentatively, never letting the glow of the tiny lifeline leave his sight. His hand slowly slid along the edge of the mattress, testing for anything that might be binding her there. He found none, to his momentary relief. His mind was racing, imagining his actions much too fast for his hands and body to keep up. One thought formed in that overactive brain froze his blood.
He didn’t know where the door frame was, and even if he did, he didn’t know how to get out of his pitch black prison.
The image of the cube of mirrors wrenched him back into reality so violently he almost lost hope right there.
‘What’s the point of trying to get out of here if I’m only going to die, too?’
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sorry to have to end on that rather cliffie-esque note, but that's all I have written down! I'm not very good at writing directly onto the site, I have to actually write the story on paper with a pen before I can begin to type... Oich...
Am open for suggestions! XD
RJsBB
Author: RamJamsBlackBetty
Rating: R
Disclaimer: heh, heh, heh... If they weren't mine, would I be so mean to them? (Actually, I think I would... haHA!)
Archive: Y'all know the drill...
A/N: I think this will be the last chapter (for now) of this story, since this is as far as I've gotten on my hard copy that sits on my desk and says,"Write me!!!!" Anyway, this tale has been a WiP since that fateful day when my English teacher decided to unleash whatever it was that drove me to write this. If I write more for this story, y'all will be the first to know!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Losing Hope
... Curiosity prevailed over instinctual suspicion and he made his way haltingly towards the beacon, even as the other lights danced before his eyes with each step he took. ...
As he approached the light, it formed itself into a tiny silver cross. There was no light illuminating it from outside, it seemed to glow with a soft brilliance all its own.
The cross seemed oddly familiar, somehow.
n itn it hit him.
He was staring at *her* cross. The one he’d seen so many times, the one he’d even worn once when she left it with him before going on an especially long trip. He was captivated by the simple beauty of her little pendant on the silver chain he’d given to her when her other chain had broken.
Bright blue, hazel, brown, dark chocolate, then hazel again.
He managed to pull his eyes from the ember-like glow of the cross to see that it was still strung on the chain, and that it was nestled in the hallow between her collar bones. He followed with his eyes to where the chain vanished into the sheet of coppery silk that was her hair. He could only see that far because the glow from the cross was only that strong but he knew what the rest of her looked like even without the dim luminescence afforded to him by the cross.
She was deathly pale and his eyes turned the color of rain clouds, cool ashes, thick fog.
He raised his hand, as if to touch her face, as if to brush a stray strand of hair back behind her ear as he’d seen her do countless times yet had never had the privilege of doing himself.
He changed his mind, instead quietly falling to his knees and resting his head beside her hand in a moment of silent, private anguish.
His tears again dampened his cheeks with the realization that he may have actually lost her. As if it was an infectious disease, his mind rejected this thought almost before it had even been properly formed.
‘Well,’ he decided in a moment of uncharacteristic clarity, ‘if she *is* dead, I should get her out of here so there can be a proper funeral.’
He rose tentatively, never letting the glow of the tiny lifeline leave his sight. His hand slowly slid along the edge of the mattress, testing for anything that might be binding her there. He found none, to his momentary relief. His mind was racing, imagining his actions much too fast for his hands and body to keep up. One thought formed in that overactive brain froze his blood.
He didn’t know where the door frame was, and even if he did, he didn’t know how to get out of his pitch black prison.
The image of the cube of mirrors wrenched him back into reality so violently he almost lost hope right there.
‘What’s the point of trying to get out of here if I’m only going to die, too?’
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sorry to have to end on that rather cliffie-esque note, but that's all I have written down! I'm not very good at writing directly onto the site, I have to actually write the story on paper with a pen before I can begin to type... Oich...
Am open for suggestions! XD
RJsBB