Puppet 2
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
3,248
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
3,248
Reviews:
12
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.
Mysterious Man
CHAPTER 9:
“Who are you” spoke the mysterious voice, “And what are you doing in my house?”
Shing could feel sweat forming across his forehead. He knew he’d be safe if this man were to attack him, but if the man saw his healing skin, Shing was sure the man would be terrified. So, Shing spoke with caution.
“Please, I did not mean to intrude. I was lost in the forest and found your cabin. When I looked inside the window, I saw no one inside, so I stepped in myself, thinking the place was abandoned. I’m sorry.”
The room was silent, and Shing was unsure of what the man was doing behind him. He knew it was a man, for he could tell by the man’s deep, eerie voice.
“Turn around,” the voice spoke again, “And put your blasted hands down! I’m not going to shoot you!”
Shing did turn around. His black eyes came face to face with deep brown ones. The man before him was rather tall. He looked creepy, which made Shing tremble in his sneakers. The man had peach skin, and his dark brown hair was long, reaching down a little past his shoulders in a smooth manner.
“Now,” the man spoke, “Why don’t you tell me the actual truth this time. You aren’t really lost, are you?”
Shing was surprised by this man’s layback attitude. But the man was right; Shing was not really lost.
“I’m very sorry,” Shing frowns, “I—I heard rumors of a beast living out here, preying on the animals in the forest.”
“I see,” the man turned and exited the pantry, “Come with me.”
Unsure if he should trust the man, Shing followed. He closed the door quickly behind him, not standing one more smell of the animal corpses in the small pantry.
The man had walked over to a small counter. There, he grabbed a knife and began to cut away at a small loaf of bread. To Shing, this man seemed scarier then Yao.
“Now this—beast you speak of,” the man whispers, “What exactly does it look like?”
“W—well,” Shing stuttered, “I’m not sure.”
Stopping what he was doing, the man turns to give Shing a quizzical stare.
“You’re not sure? Well that’s not going to help you, now, is it? I mean after all—this beast you wish to seek could be anything.”
Shing stayed silent as he watched this man finish slicing the small loaf of bread. The man then raised the knife, and slowly cleaned it using the edge of his black shirt.
Focusing his eyes off of the sharpened knife, Shing found he lowly saying: “I—should probably be going…”
“Going?” The man moved the knife to his side, “Going where? There isn’t a town for miles and miles. A travel no normal person could do by foot. Now they could travel here by vehicle, but I see you don’t have one.”
Now Shing knew that this man terrified him. He was trapped, and had a bad feeling in his gut.
“I think it’s time,” the man went on, “For you to tell me who you really are, and where you come from. I do not appreciate people who lie.”
Finding himself back against the cabin’s back wall, Shing kept his eyes on the shining knife coming towards him.
“Well speak up, boy,” the man nearly yells, “Why are you here? How did you get here?”
Gathering up his courage, Shing stared the man straight into the eye.
“I—wish I could tell you, but I cannot.”
The man stares Shing straight back in the eyes. The knife he held made its way over Shing’s skin, and Shing could feel its cold surface.
“You are a brave boy,” the man smirks, “But you see, you cannot hide who you really are. Yes, I saw you land here on your feet. I saw you were flying. I watched as you entered my home without permission. There is only one kind of breed I know whom even dare enter this forest…”
Letting a gasp escape his lips, Shing winced as the man dragged the sharpened knife down his arm. As soon as the blood began to ooze out of the wound, it immediately began to vanish back into Shing’s skin. As it moved; as the wound healed itself, the brown eyed man watched with no hesitation, no thought whatsoever.
Shing felt confused. He was sure the man would be freaking out about now, but the man held completely still. He was motionless.
“You,” the man soon spoke just as Shing’s wound finished healing, “You are immortal. Just as I expected.”
“Huh?” Shing was utterly bewildered. And the man; he could see that Shing was not following him.
“You mean you do not know?”
“Know,” Shing said, “Know what?”
“You are an immortal, boy,” the man spoke lowly, “You cannot die by any mortal or their crafty tools.”
“Oh,” Shing stares befuddled, “Wait a minute! How do you know…?”
“Because boy,” the man spoke, “I know another just like you.”
Shing couldn’t hold back the loud gasp he made. This man knew another just like him! He wasn’t the only cursed being in the world!
The man took a few steps back, and held his arm out. Shing allowed his small black pupils to widen in shock as the man gave his arm one large gash.
Shing never took his eyes off the dripping blood. It fell in drops to the floor, and Shing thought this man to be insane, but then—it happened. The wound had healed itself; just like Shing’s own wound had done.
“N—no,” Shing’s eyes widened, “It can’t be—possible. It’s just not…”
“So I must ask you again boy,” the man hissed, “Why are you here?”
“I—I…” Shing could feel he was sweaty and nervous, “I was being—truthful. I really did come out here in search for the—beast. I was sent by my—brother, who knows of my—curse…”
“For one thing,” the man said, “It’s not a curse. You are an immortal, as am I. Second of all, I can see you are being honest, so please take a seat.”
Shing turned to stare at the ripped up brown couch, and soon realized that taking a seat wasn’t such a bad idea. He suddenly felt very tired, so he took the man’s kindness (if he could call it that) and took a seat.
“I will begin saying that what you have is no curse,” the man sat on the opposite side of the room; “You and I are immortal. We cannot die—the only thing that could kill us is the hands of another like us.”
Shing paid close attention. He was curious. Who wouldn’t be? There are others just like him—immortals. Those who cannot die by the hands of ordinary people. Shing stayed silent as the man spoke again.
“What is your name boy?”
“Oh,” Shing could feel his throat tightening. He was unsure if he should give this strange man his name. But he wanted to know more! Lots more! So…
“My name is Shing.”
“Shing,” the man spoke lowly, “I must say, Shing that you came all the way out here for nothing. There is no beast out here, just wild animals.”
“But,” Shing sighs, “But what about all the shredded bodies…”
“Pah!”
Shing felt shocked by this man’s sudden angered attitude.
“Damned mortals and their fibs,” the man growls, “That story is just a myth.”
There was a long pause, and Shing knew he wanted to ask the man a question. He felt unsure, but if he gave the man his own name, then shouldn’t this man give him his? Shing thought to be brave, and so he asked: “What’s your name?”
The man did not answer right away. He raised his deep brown eyes, and stared dead-cold into Shing’s. Shing began to feel as if he made a mistake for asking, but the man did eventually speak, and he added on to that, causing Shing to stare off at him speechless.
“My name is Luke,” said the man, “And I can see that someday you may be just as powerful as I am. So, I’ve decided I’m going to train you—you’ve got a lot to learn for what it takes to be an immortal…”
*End of Chapter 9*
“Who are you” spoke the mysterious voice, “And what are you doing in my house?”
Shing could feel sweat forming across his forehead. He knew he’d be safe if this man were to attack him, but if the man saw his healing skin, Shing was sure the man would be terrified. So, Shing spoke with caution.
“Please, I did not mean to intrude. I was lost in the forest and found your cabin. When I looked inside the window, I saw no one inside, so I stepped in myself, thinking the place was abandoned. I’m sorry.”
The room was silent, and Shing was unsure of what the man was doing behind him. He knew it was a man, for he could tell by the man’s deep, eerie voice.
“Turn around,” the voice spoke again, “And put your blasted hands down! I’m not going to shoot you!”
Shing did turn around. His black eyes came face to face with deep brown ones. The man before him was rather tall. He looked creepy, which made Shing tremble in his sneakers. The man had peach skin, and his dark brown hair was long, reaching down a little past his shoulders in a smooth manner.
“Now,” the man spoke, “Why don’t you tell me the actual truth this time. You aren’t really lost, are you?”
Shing was surprised by this man’s layback attitude. But the man was right; Shing was not really lost.
“I’m very sorry,” Shing frowns, “I—I heard rumors of a beast living out here, preying on the animals in the forest.”
“I see,” the man turned and exited the pantry, “Come with me.”
Unsure if he should trust the man, Shing followed. He closed the door quickly behind him, not standing one more smell of the animal corpses in the small pantry.
The man had walked over to a small counter. There, he grabbed a knife and began to cut away at a small loaf of bread. To Shing, this man seemed scarier then Yao.
“Now this—beast you speak of,” the man whispers, “What exactly does it look like?”
“W—well,” Shing stuttered, “I’m not sure.”
Stopping what he was doing, the man turns to give Shing a quizzical stare.
“You’re not sure? Well that’s not going to help you, now, is it? I mean after all—this beast you wish to seek could be anything.”
Shing stayed silent as he watched this man finish slicing the small loaf of bread. The man then raised the knife, and slowly cleaned it using the edge of his black shirt.
Focusing his eyes off of the sharpened knife, Shing found he lowly saying: “I—should probably be going…”
“Going?” The man moved the knife to his side, “Going where? There isn’t a town for miles and miles. A travel no normal person could do by foot. Now they could travel here by vehicle, but I see you don’t have one.”
Now Shing knew that this man terrified him. He was trapped, and had a bad feeling in his gut.
“I think it’s time,” the man went on, “For you to tell me who you really are, and where you come from. I do not appreciate people who lie.”
Finding himself back against the cabin’s back wall, Shing kept his eyes on the shining knife coming towards him.
“Well speak up, boy,” the man nearly yells, “Why are you here? How did you get here?”
Gathering up his courage, Shing stared the man straight into the eye.
“I—wish I could tell you, but I cannot.”
The man stares Shing straight back in the eyes. The knife he held made its way over Shing’s skin, and Shing could feel its cold surface.
“You are a brave boy,” the man smirks, “But you see, you cannot hide who you really are. Yes, I saw you land here on your feet. I saw you were flying. I watched as you entered my home without permission. There is only one kind of breed I know whom even dare enter this forest…”
Letting a gasp escape his lips, Shing winced as the man dragged the sharpened knife down his arm. As soon as the blood began to ooze out of the wound, it immediately began to vanish back into Shing’s skin. As it moved; as the wound healed itself, the brown eyed man watched with no hesitation, no thought whatsoever.
Shing felt confused. He was sure the man would be freaking out about now, but the man held completely still. He was motionless.
“You,” the man soon spoke just as Shing’s wound finished healing, “You are immortal. Just as I expected.”
“Huh?” Shing was utterly bewildered. And the man; he could see that Shing was not following him.
“You mean you do not know?”
“Know,” Shing said, “Know what?”
“You are an immortal, boy,” the man spoke lowly, “You cannot die by any mortal or their crafty tools.”
“Oh,” Shing stares befuddled, “Wait a minute! How do you know…?”
“Because boy,” the man spoke, “I know another just like you.”
Shing couldn’t hold back the loud gasp he made. This man knew another just like him! He wasn’t the only cursed being in the world!
The man took a few steps back, and held his arm out. Shing allowed his small black pupils to widen in shock as the man gave his arm one large gash.
Shing never took his eyes off the dripping blood. It fell in drops to the floor, and Shing thought this man to be insane, but then—it happened. The wound had healed itself; just like Shing’s own wound had done.
“N—no,” Shing’s eyes widened, “It can’t be—possible. It’s just not…”
“So I must ask you again boy,” the man hissed, “Why are you here?”
“I—I…” Shing could feel he was sweaty and nervous, “I was being—truthful. I really did come out here in search for the—beast. I was sent by my—brother, who knows of my—curse…”
“For one thing,” the man said, “It’s not a curse. You are an immortal, as am I. Second of all, I can see you are being honest, so please take a seat.”
Shing turned to stare at the ripped up brown couch, and soon realized that taking a seat wasn’t such a bad idea. He suddenly felt very tired, so he took the man’s kindness (if he could call it that) and took a seat.
“I will begin saying that what you have is no curse,” the man sat on the opposite side of the room; “You and I are immortal. We cannot die—the only thing that could kill us is the hands of another like us.”
Shing paid close attention. He was curious. Who wouldn’t be? There are others just like him—immortals. Those who cannot die by the hands of ordinary people. Shing stayed silent as the man spoke again.
“What is your name boy?”
“Oh,” Shing could feel his throat tightening. He was unsure if he should give this strange man his name. But he wanted to know more! Lots more! So…
“My name is Shing.”
“Shing,” the man spoke lowly, “I must say, Shing that you came all the way out here for nothing. There is no beast out here, just wild animals.”
“But,” Shing sighs, “But what about all the shredded bodies…”
“Pah!”
Shing felt shocked by this man’s sudden angered attitude.
“Damned mortals and their fibs,” the man growls, “That story is just a myth.”
There was a long pause, and Shing knew he wanted to ask the man a question. He felt unsure, but if he gave the man his own name, then shouldn’t this man give him his? Shing thought to be brave, and so he asked: “What’s your name?”
The man did not answer right away. He raised his deep brown eyes, and stared dead-cold into Shing’s. Shing began to feel as if he made a mistake for asking, but the man did eventually speak, and he added on to that, causing Shing to stare off at him speechless.
“My name is Luke,” said the man, “And I can see that someday you may be just as powerful as I am. So, I’ve decided I’m going to train you—you’ve got a lot to learn for what it takes to be an immortal…”
*End of Chapter 9*