Virane

     In the land of Toro, Mira walked slowly through the woods that lay behind her home as her blonde hair fluttered in the breeze. She lived in secrecy, for her father and mother, once King and Queen of Toro, were dead. The Toroks betrayed the throne and anyone who supported her parents was killed ... only she had gotten out alive. It had been a year since she had found her new home, an abandoned cabin evidently unused for many years. It was here she lived in isolation, away from prying eyes that were keen to find the Princess, heir to the throne.

     Mira had no real purpose tonight other than to enjoy a leisurely stroll. It was the only luxury she could afford in isolation. Moonlight dimly illuminated her path as the trees made eerie shadows that seemed to beckon her with its dance. Unwillingly, a thought drifted into her mind ... the dance of Virane.

     Virane. It was an ancient name, the name of death as spoken by the Larigan people of old. The Larigan race vanished mysteriously thousands and thousands of years ago, yet they still existed in the words of stories whispered amongst those who feared the subtle truths that underlied these fables.

     Virane. It was this name that echoed in the deepest pits of her mind as she walked over twigs and leaves, admist the trees that appeared so lovely in daylight but murderous by night. She had heard stories of Virane from her mother but she was never quite sure what it was. It was said that in many ways Virane was death and more; it sought to spread misery wherever it went for nothing more than its own pleasure. Virane was a marked entity, for the sign of the flaming butterfly would reveal its identity. She shuddered at the thought of Virane and fearfully glanced around her as if expecting the shadows to be concealing it.

     Suddenly Mira came to a halt. Her voluptuos chest rose up and down rapidly like the wings of a humming bird, as she breathed heavily from fear.  She could hear whistling- a pleasant sort of whistling that one might hear from a carefree person. Mira could recognize the tune, Moonstone Jig, a song her father had enjoyed, yet thoughts of Virane lingered in her mind, keeping her fear intact.

     For a moment, the whistling ceased and the only sound in the woods was silence itself but it did not last long. A gruff, male voice started to sing the words to Moonstone Jig,

                                    ' Out on the rocks there is a glow,
                                     the darkness inside is the river that flows,
                                     the stone of the moon is the creature's show,
                                     dancing a jig, on craters she knows.
                                     Now love ain't a lover, but she warms my stones,
                                     stealing out into the night for all her moans,
                                     the moonstone jig is to set the tones,
                                     for in the morning, I'll be all alone.'

     A tear rolled down Mira's cheek but she hastily wiped it away. The song was a reminder of all that she had left behind. It brought her hope and happiness but also a deep longing for the past to be returned to her. Up ahead, a young man walked towards her. He had long, dark hair that covered the nape of his neck and moved in the air like waves. His dark eyes fixated on Mira as he continued to sing Moonstone Jig. He was a fairly tall man but of a stocky build and judging by the streaks of dirt that slightly marred his handsome face, he had been travelling all day long.

     "Eyy there pretty lady, don't suppose you know a place where I can stay tonight?" asked the man, grinning.

     Mira gazed into his piercing eyes and saw no intent to harm, rather a warmth that she could almost feel on this cool summer night. If he had wanted to hurt her, he would've done so by now; there was no need to create a ruse on the pretense of wanting a place to stay. She had not seen nor heard from a person in more than a year. She yearned for the companionship of another and at this point she may have even considered letting a Torok into her home and thus the look in his eyes was enough for her to decide what she would do.

     "I do know of a place," she said carefully. "What is your name?"

     "Call me Prons," he said. "Where is this place my lady?" There was no mockery in the flattery he bestowed upon her, rather his words seem to be respectful and genuine.

     "I live that-a-way," said Mira, gesturing behind her. "You can stay with me for as long as need be ... and please call me Mira."

     "Ahhh Mira," he whispered yearningly as if savouring the last morsel of a delicious meal. "I do not know how long I will stay but the Toroks have taken over my village and I am merely trying to find a place to hide until I can find a safer place. I will do whatever you ask to earn my keep."

     "The Toroks are headed this way?" she whispered fearfully.

     "I doubt any Torok would dare venture into these woods. I entered for I had no choice." His smile had disappeared and now his expression seemed grim. "No harm shall befall you, I am sure of it."

     "Follow me," said Mira abruptly. She did not wish to discuss her fears with a stranger and yet she felt relieved that she had decided he should stay with her. He did after all know of the Toroks coming. She turned around and walked back towards her house, with a whistling Prons in tow. Although she was opening her doors to him, she vowed to never reveal that she was truly Princess Mira. It was one secret she did not wish to share with anyone.

     It was after three months of Prons' company that she felt an affection of sorts towards him and it seemed he felt the same way about her. He looked at her lovingly with his dark eyes and his smile smoothed over the sharp edges of stone that her heart had become after being devoid of human contact for so long. Yet there were moments when she glanced at his eyes and thought she might have seen an iciness that only a man of anger could possess, but his kindness towards her pushed all other thoughts out of her mind. Soon Mira and Prons fell in love with each other.

     One late evening, she sat in the warmth of Pron's arms, which encircled her protectively. If I we were ever to have a child, I would name it after you, she thought contentedly. She felt happier than she had ever been in the past year. She hoped this peacefulness would last forever.

     A noise outside of her home shattered the silence. There was racous shouting and a clanging sound that rang like a bell as if signalling the end of an era. Mira glanced up at Prons and saw that his face had become deathly pale. "What is it Prons?"

     "The Toroks are here," he whispered. "Stay quiet, I'm going to try and divert them from here."

     "Be careful Prons," Mira said fearfully. Prons nodded as he walked towards the front of the house and as he entered outside to confront the Toroks, Mira noticed that they had grown silent.

     Then Prons spoke and what he said made her blood run cold, "The Princess? She's inside."

     I never told Prons I was a princess, she reflected as the first wave of pain hit her, nearly sending her into a realm of temporary darkness. It was not a physical pain but rather a burning scar that reeked of betrayal which grew in size until her mind was a pit of ashes.

     The Torok barged into the house and took her captive but by then she was too weak to do much. Her mind was still reeling from Prons giving her up to the Torok and thus she did not resist but meekly went along with them. "We killed your mother and your father, Princess," spat a Torok with a jagged scar running down the left side of his face from his eye to his chin. "But we are merciful people. You please us and we will keep you alive." The other Torok guffawed as the Torok with the jagged scar grinned.

     Mira said not a word. She was lost in her mind and unable to process what was happening to her. Even when they raped her, she did not scream or fight back, almost as if she had entirely given up. Within a week she was pregnant but that did not stop her captors from continually tormenting her. And as time passed, her heart of smooth stone cracked and eroded until the edges were sharp again.

     Nine months after Prons' betrayal, she gave birth to a beautiful, little boy. The Torok named him Grunder and the day after his naming, she fled from the Torok with her son in her hands. She had reason to live now and that reason was Grunder. She wanted him to have a life away from the enslaving eyes of the predatorial Torok.

     She wandered far east in Toro until she came upon a village, Quoznak. There, she took refuge in a kind elderly man's house and did chores for him to earn her keep. He died soon after and left her his house; it was here she raised Grunder all on her own. She no longer thought about Prons, for thinking about him would paralyze her and she could not afford to be in such a state- Grunder needed her.

     Grunder grew up to be a strong, healthy boy. He had dark hair but he had Mira's forest-green eyes that shimmered like emeralds. On the eve of his 14th birthday, Grunder told Mira he was heading towards the lake. The lake was known as Lake Rhowen and it was on the outskirts of Quoznak. It was a lake frequented by locals during the day for that is when the salmon were most active.

     As she gazed after Grunder from the front of her house, she heard a familiar voice that she had not heard in many years. She turned slightly to the left and saw Prons. In that moment, the memory of his betrayal swam up into her mind and with great effort she prevented it from possessing her. She did not want to rexperience that pain- she needed to stay strong for Grunder. The long, dark hair of Prons' that she had loved so much was now short and somehow gave him a more youthful look.

     "Are you here to give me back to the Toroks?" she asked, trembling fearfully.

     "No, no my dear. You must forgive me for doing what I did all those years ago. I am merely going to the lake, it's a nice evening for a stroll, perhaps I'll run into my son," he said smiling. The smile was not like the smiles that he had once given her out of what seemed to be love. This was a smile that was not quite right, crooked in a way she could not describe and the hint of mockery did not escape her. The man she once loved now terrified her but she had to stop him from going to the lake at any cost for she did not want Grunder to be in danger.

     As Prons turned around to leave, Mira saw a strange tattoo on the nape of Prons' neck. She had never seen it before for his long hair had always covered the nape of his neck but now it was visible. It was a small, black butterfly with red eyes that glowed ominously. The wings were adorned with bluish-orange flames, that seemed to pulsate and flicker as if it were real. She gasped as she realized that the stories of Virane were true. This was his mark, she was sure of it. Prons was Virane and she had become his victim.

     She blinked and he was gone as if he had vanished into thin air. She knew she had to get to the lake to make sure Grunder was ok. She ran faster then she had ever run along the dirt paths of the village. Her legs ached and her feet hurt but this pain was nothing compared to pain she had felt before, nothing compared to the pain she would feel if she lost her son. She needed more air but the thought of Grunder heightened her urgency and she increased her pace even more.

     Eventually she reached Lake Rhowen. The setting sun splayed a myriad of colours that danced across the surface of the lake beautifully. The surrounding trees loomed over her like giants that were angry at her for trespassing on their realm. "Grunder?! Grunder!!" she screamed as she looked around for him. Where is Grunder? I don't see him. As she walked along the grassy banks of the lake, she saw him. He was a few feet in front of her and lying on the grass, almost as if someone had laid him there. The paleness of his face was enough for Mira to know ... Grunder was dead.

     Like a stone falling from the sky, she dropped down, lifted Grunder's head into her lap and stroked it affectionately. She weeped for him, weeped for all she had lost and wished her accursed life had never been. Soon the tears dried up and as she stared down at her son, she fondly whispered, "Virane."

     As the last rays of sun disappeared, Mira heard laughter. It echoed all around her and she could not tell where it came from but she knew it was Prons ... and he was amused.

It Came Looking

It was the summer of Reneé’s 24^th year that lingered as if it were a drop of blood that could never be washed away like the almost perfect murder. Try as she might, she could not forget the past but in the five years that had passed since then, she remained single and still lived at home with her parents and little sister, Lola. At times she was able to hold the oppressive cloud of that summer at bay but her sister had opened up fresh wounds- wounds that may have healed had it been five years ago.

It was five years ago when Lola, then 17 years old, ran into the house, tears streaming down her face. She was a silent crier, always had been, and even then the only noise from her was the thudding of her footsteps as she ran up the stairs. Reneé was torn between going up to her sister and comforting her, or meeting her boyfriend, Mark, at his house as she had promised him earlier. She chose to see Mark and spent a wonderful evening eating dinner cooked by him (he could cook a mean foie gras). Not once during that night did she wonder why her sister was crying.

As the days flew by, Reneé spent more and more time with Mark. Sometimes he would come to her place while Lola was around and she would notice the way Lola's eyes seemed to always avoid Mark's when he talked to her. Other times, when Lola thought no one could see her, she would glare at Mark angrily as if he had betrayed her in an unforgivable way. Soon she would mysteriously become absent whenever Mark chose to come over, claiming that she had an exam to study for and that the only peace and quiet she could get was at the library. If only Reneé had seen the signs ... if only.

Over the next few weeks she noticed bruises and cuts appearing on her sister’s body. Finally, she decided to ask what was happening. One night, after her parents had gone to sleep, she went to Lola’s room. Lola was still awake, standing at her window, gazing off into the distance as if in a trance. “Lola we need to talk,” said Reneé from behind her. Lola spun around startled. Reneé could see that her eyes were swollen red from crying. Lola wiped her tears and forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“About what?” asked Lola tremulously.

“Is something wrong?” asked Reneé. “I’ll always be here for you. Please talk to me.”

Lola’s smile disappeared off her face and was replaced by an expression of  startling anger. Her eyes seem to darken ever so slightly. “You don’t care what happened to me! It takes you weeks to ask me what’s wrong? Go away! Just go!” she yelled at Reneé. She turned around and resumed staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought again.

Reneé didn’t press the issue. She cared about her sister but if she didn’t want to talk about it, she wasn’t going to force her to. Yet it struck Reneé as odd that her sister was angry with her ... almost as if Lola blamed her for something. She left Lola’s room and now five years later she wondered if she could’ve been a better sister to Lola. She wondered if she had shown more care towards her, would things have turned out different?

A couple of months later, on the rainiest night of the year, Lola came home soaking wet. Not a word did she say as she scampered up to her bedroom and locked herself in. Not a word did Reneé ask her for Lola’s silence and distress had become almost normal these past few months. Reflecting back she realized she chose to be oblivious to Lola's suffering. It was easier that way. Yet that night stuck in her memory like a knife lodged in bone. As the rain beat against the window as if an angry creature were trying to get in, Mark disappeared. It was in the morning when the police came to interview her that she knew what had happened.  He had vanished without a trace and five years later, there was still no sign of him … nor was there any sign of Lola’s necklace. It was a gold chain with an ivory wolf pendant that her mother had given her. Reneé wore a similar one but instead of a wolf she had a swan. It was a necklace of more sentimental value than monetary worth. Lola maintained that she had lost it and that was that. There was nothing that could be done about the necklace … or Mark.

Up until a few minutes ago, her memories of Mark had been  quite fond. He had taken her to see Cirque Du Solei when it had come into town. He had taken her skating when it was a full moon, just so he could tell her that she was more beautiful than the orb that hung in the sky. He had taken her swimming in Talou Lake and then they had watched the stars in the skies and counted them until they fell asleep, wet and holding each other. When her cat, Poosie, had died when a car ran over her, he held her for hours as she sobbed into his shirt uncontrollably. Yet the last memory she associated with Mark were her sister’s words, spoken only minutes before.

 Her relationship with Lola had deteriorated to a point where they didn’t talk to each other. Reneé tried over the years to talk to Lola but Lola shut her out. Her bruises had long healed but evidently the ones inside of her had not. In silence she carried whatever burden was thrust upon her and yet today, as she ran past Reneé down the stairs and to the front door, she had something to say to Reneé. She had longed to hear Lola’s voice directed at her but she had not expected that five years of silence would mount to this: “Mark raped me five years ago on Talou Lake, the night he disappeared. He ripped my necklace off my neck and had me. I got away from him, made sure he wouldn't do this to me again. He did things to me all that summer but you just didn't care.” She spat it out as if she were chewing something bitter and unpleasant. Before Reneé could say a word, she stormed out of the house, leaving her with more questions than answers.

It was too much to believe that Mark raped Lola all those years ago but why would she lie? With great sadness she reflected that she had wasted five years mourning for a man who perhaps met a much deserved end. And suddenly the water works began, her tears gushing out as Lola's had many times before. Reneé went up to her room and crawled into bed, hoping that the last five years was a mere dream. Despite the cloying summer heat that made staying in her room unbearable,  she soon drifted off into deep sleep.

All was still in the darkness of the night, the only light, a dim glow from the moon that played peek-a-boo from behind the clouds. Somehow summer had turned into winter and snow covered the ground in a sea of white. More snow fell from the heavens accumulating in drifts. For reasons unbeknownst to her, Reneé found herself standing barefoot in the snow. She was dressed in light pink, pyjamas and shivered as the cold cut into her skin like a carving knife. Yet in her mind, she had a purpose. It was an urge to walk through the snow until she reached Talou Lake, a lake that once held fond memories for her. She was not worried or scared, she knew there were answers at the lake but for what questions, she did not know.

She trembled as the cold caressed her like a deprived lover as she set out slowly for Talou Lake. With each step she took, the wind blew harder but when she was within 50 meters of the lake, it died suddenly as if a switch had been flipped. She did not take another step as if she were waiting for someone to meet her here. The snow fell on her skin and melted like her heart had once melted when Mark was there for her. Her breath misted in the air, curlicues of smoky breath drifting off into the distance.

And from the depths of Talou Lake rose a figure, cloaked fully in black and although the face was not covered, where it should’ve been was a pit of darkness. The figure moved towards her, not quite touching the ground. As fearful as Reneé felt, she stood her ground for her mind told her this was who she was waiting for. It moved closer and closer to her, until it stood a meter away from her, a macabre specter indeed. Curiously, it was not dripping wet, despite floating out of Talou Lake. “Do you want Lola’s necklace?” it asked in a voice that sounded overwhelmingly beguiling and sweet.

Reneé felt that retrieving the necklace was her purpose, so without hesitation she replied, “Yes, I want her necklace.”

“Then I must have something in return,” said the cloaked voice in an almost mockingly, musical tone.

Reneé hesitated. The voice was familiar, yet in that moment she could not quite recognize it. She did not know what this meant and alas she asked the more pertinent question, “Who are you?”

The cloaked figure was silent for a moment. Then it spoke slowly, no hint of mirth in its voice, "Who I am is not important.”

“What can I offer you in return?” she asked reluctantly. Perhaps all he wanted was money, for that’s what everyone wanted.

"I don't want what you can offer. I merely want seven drops of blood," whispered the cloaked figure. Reneé did not feel at ease with the cloaked figure but she needed that necklace. Soon this would all be over with and perhaps she would never have to see this cloaked figure again.

The cloaked figure strode past her and beckoned her to follow. Reneé trudged through the snow, not knowing what to expect. She stared at the back of the cloaked figure- there was something familiar about its shape but she could not quite put her finger on it.

To her utter surprise, the cloaked figure led her to her own home. As they reached the front door, it raised a finger, gesturing Reneé to remain outside. It then melted into the door as if it were a ghost walking through it, leaving her in the cold as the snow continued to fall around her.

Two minutes later, the cloaked figure appeared through the door. By now, the moon was completely covered by clouds and the light of the stars was such that barely a shadow could be seen. “I put the necklace back where it belongs,” it said in a haunting voice.

Reneé did not say a word. She felt that the cloaked figure spoke the truth, yet there was something out of place and though she did not know what it was, she felt compelled to remain silent. The cloaked figure drifted off into the night, once again beckoning Reneé to follow.

Hours later, they reached Talou lake. Without a glance backwards, the cloaked figure slowly melted into the lake until it fully disappeared. Reneé’s mind warned her not to go into the lake. As she turned around to go home she heard a sound. “Reneé,” a voice whispered. It was a soft voice and its cadence seemed as if it came from under water. She had heard this voice before. Five years had passed but Mark’s voice was a permanent memory. She glanced at the lake  but all she could see was the snow that swirled in the air and floated downwards.

She walked back home in the miserable weather and eventually came upon her front door. She was exhausted, her mind numb with cold. She entered her home, whereupon she climbed into her bed and fell asleep.

It was from this dream that she awoke as the first hour of sunlight passed by. She hoped her sister would be ready to talk to her today. She needed to know more about Mark for his death had been eating at her like a flesh-eating disease for many years. She needed to know if he was truly the rapist that her sister had claimed him to be or was he the man of her memories, the man who thought she was more beautiful than the moon. She quietly went to Lola’s bedroom to talk to her. She knew Lola always woke up early. To her surprise, Lola lay asleep, her face as pale as snow.

As Reneé started to leave her room, she noticed something. Around Lola’s neck was a gold chain with an ivory wolf pendant. It was the necklace she had said Mark ripped off her neck the night he disappeared. Yet more startling, were the seven puncture wounds on her throat ... and in that moment she knew; Mark had come back for her sister.

The Message

The Ouija board has always been an enigma to me. I've heard of people fascinated by its machination, others fearful of it. It is this spectrum of beliefs that has motivated me to enroach upon the subject of the Ouija board.
*For those who do not know what an Ouija board is, it is merely a device used to contact spirits ... apparently. It consists of letters, numbers and a small spinning arrow like 'thing' in the center which supposedly points at certain letters or numbers when a spirit is communicating (planchette).

            It was three days before the start of October when Bobby got around to buying an Ouija board- something he’d always wanted. The idea of communicating with spirits always fascinated him. He lived alone in a modest, one bedroom apartment that he was able to afford with his job as a salesperson at the local bookstore. For a person who lived alone, his apartment was far from what one might expect; his walls were adorned with pictures of family and friends as if they all lived here.

Bobby’s bedroom was a small but comfortable little haven.  In it, there was a closet situated next to the window that afforded Bobby a splendid view of the majestic maple trees that seemed to be prevalent in his neighbourhood. Near the door was a wooden bed that Bobby called home for seven hours every night.

When Bobby brought his Ouija board into his apartment, he immediately felt a sense of excitement. He had questions and he hoped the spirits could give him answers- that is if the Ouija board worked. The Ouija board was a wooden, black masterpiece with the letters and numbers carved in white.  The planchette in the center was a light brown piece that was clearly worn down with age. In each corner of the Ouija board was an odd symbol that Bobby didn’t recognize, yet the symbols gave the board the appearance of being an antique and the scratches sprawled across the board, enhanced its appearance to that of a relic.

 He switched off every light in the house and went to the dining table with his Ouija board.  He placed the Ouija board on the table and lit three candles and placed them behind the Ouija board, the shadows of the flames dancing eerily.  He took a deep breath, whereupon he sat down and placed his hand on the planchette. “I wish to summon a spirit who will bear me no ill will,” said Bobby quivering with anticipation.

There was no answer.

“I wish to summon a spirit who will bear me no ill will,” he implored again.

Again, there was no answer.

“I wish to summon a spirit who will bear me no ill will,” he said sadly for a third time.

This time there was a response. The planchette moved from letter to letter spelling out a message for Bobby. Go to the bedroom. Turn on the lights. Turn off the lights. Turn on the lights. Look under the bed. Look out the window.

“Spirit, who are you and why should I listen to you?” whispered Bobby. The planchette did not move.

“Spirit, who are you and why should I listen to you?” Again the planchette did not move.

“Spirit, who are you and why should I listen to you?” Still the planchette lay still. Bobby was joyous that a spirit had communicated with him but it had left him with instructions that seemed to have no purpose. Nevertheless intrigued, he went towards his bedroom, turned on the lights, then turned them off and then on again. He looked under the bed half-expecting to see something under there but there was nothing. He then looked out the window but saw nothing but the night sky covered by the light of the stars.

He had done what the spirit had asked, but nothing had come of it. Puzzled, he went to bed, intent on using the Ouija board again. After work the next day, he immediately went to his apartment to fiddle with the Ouija board. Once again he lit three candles behind the board and switched off every light in the house. He came back to the table, placed his hand on the planchette like the night before and again implored a spirit to speak to him. “I wish to summon a spirit who will bear me no ill will.” The planchette lay still.

“I wish to summon a spirit who will bear me no ill will.”

There was no answer.

“I wish to summon a spirit who will bear me no ill will,”

This time the planchette moved and it spelled out the message of the spirit communicating with Bobby. Go to the bedroom. Turn on the lights. Turn off the lights. Turn on the lights. Look under the bed. Look out the window.

Bobby was surprised. He thought spiritual contact through an Ouija board was random but this was clearly the spirit from yesterday contacting him again. This time, he did not waste any time in questioning the spirit. He decided to follow the spirit’s instructions immediately, hoping that it would be less reluctant than yesterday to continue communicating with him.

He went to the bedroom, turned on the lights, then turned it off and then on again. He glanced under the bed and out the window and ran back to the table. He placed his hand on the planchette, his heart thudding furiously. “I have followed your instructions, spirit. Why did you ask me to follow these commands?”

The planchette did not move.

“I have followed your instructions, spirit. Why did you ask me to follow these commands?”

Again, the planchette did not move.

“I have followed your instructions, spirit. Why did you ask me to follow these commands?”

Still no answer.

Frustrated, Bobby went to bed, determined to contact the spirit the next night.

Later the next night Bobby set up the Ouija board, placed three lit candles behind it and switched off all the lights. He placed his hand on the planchette, hoping the spirit would communicate with him. “I wish to summon a spirit who will bear me no ill will,” he said slowly.

“I wish to summon a spirit who will bear me no ill will.”

Still no answer.

“I wish to summon a spirit who will bear me no ill will.”

This time the planchette moved and a message appeared on the board. Go to the bedroom. Turn on the lights. Turn off the lights. Turn on the lights. Look under the bed. Look out the window. Look in the closet. Good night.

Bobby went to his bedroom, switched on the lights, switched off the lights and switched it on again. He looked under the bed and glanced out the window. He then approached the closet and opened its door. It was filled with his clothes but there was nothing there.

Suddenly a man stepped out of the closet, grinning wickedly. “Good night,” he said and then the lights went out.

When Bobby didn’t show for work the next day, his manager called the police.  The police went into his apartment but there was no sign of Bobby. They found Bobby’s Ouija board on the table but thought nothing of it. Perplexed, the police left the apartment, securing it with yellow crime scene tape. As the police officers headed towards the lobby of the apartment, a Detective Morton realized he had left his cell phone on the dining table in Bobby’s apartment. He went back to the apartment and retrieved his cell phone. As he was about to walk away from the dining table, the planchette began to move of its own volition. It spelt out a chilling message, “I’m Bobby. Help me.”

Detective Morton stared at the Ouija board in disbelief. He didn’t believe in ghosts and spirits- let alone communicating with them. Nevertheless he couldn’t deny what he had seen. He trembled nervously, unsure of what to do. He quickly decided that the best thing he could do was to get out of there. As he started to move, another message appeared on the Ouija board, “He’s in the closet.”

Lorelléi

     There was once a fair maiden named Lorelléi who lived in the town of Solon. She was extremely beautiful, that even poetry could not do her justice. She had eyes of green that matched the leaves of the Solon forest, where she loved to frolick about. Her long, black hair always smelled of pine and everywhere she went, she would spread joy.

     Lorelléi had simple pleasures and often she would descend into the heart of Solon forest and sing a song so melodic that even the wolves would stop howling to listen. She was loved by all the animals and it was said that even the trees grew from the sustenance her voice provided.

     Lorelléi's beauty and kind heart gave her many admirers but she did not care for them for she was in love with a man named Jorge. While Jorge was not gifted with an appealing exterior, his hard-working, kind hearted self was enough for Lorelléi. It was said that they loved each other so much that often they would gaze into each others eyes and it would be days before they realized that days had passed since they set eyes on each other.

     Lorelléi's beauty and kind heart did attract one man who felt he deserved her. To be sure, Roge was a handsome fellow and very wealthy but he had a heart of stone. It was said that if he had been stabbed in the heart with a knife, the knife would've shattered- such was his condition. He lusted for Lorelléi and truthfully he was better suited for her for his livelihood would make her life easier. Yet his heart of stone would make her miserable- the happiness she sought lay with Jorge.

     Roge approached Lorelléi thrice. The first time he brought her a rose of such whiteness that it may as well have been made of snow. He asked for her hand in marriage but she spurned his advances. He knew of her love for Jorge -the whole town did- but that did not sway him on his quest to have Lorelléi. He wanted her and so in his mind she belonged to him. Even though she had not accepted his proposal, he was far from ready to give up.

     The second time, he brought her a rose of such redness, that it may as well have been made of blood. Again she spurned his advances, scorning him. He was starting to get angry. He was better in every way than any man in town and yet she chose to waste her time with Jorge. Jorge was a simpleton and it made Roge angry that Lorelléi seemed to be lost to him, because a man of no status had beguiled her with some charm that was hidden to him.

     For the third and last time he approached her, determined to make her his. He found her singing in the heart of Solon forest, as a nearby tree seemed to sway to her voice. "Lorelléi, I have sought you out twice before and each time you have turned me down. You are mine and you will always be mine. Forget Jorge and come with me. I am worthy of you."

     "You are not a good man. Your heart is of stone. Please leave me alone. I love Jorge as he loves me. It is his heart that has won me over and he is in every way a better man than you'll ever be," responded Loréllei with contempt oozing in her voice.

     In a sudden fit of anger, Roge picked up a nearby rock and smashed it into her head, killing her instantly. He threw a rose of such blackness, that it may as well have been made out of death and darkness, on her and said "so be it,". He walked out of the forest, never looking back- unrepentant of what he had just done.

     Within hours, the townspeople noticed Lorelléi was missing but after weeks of searching they knew one thing: Lorelléi was gone forever. The forest that once was home to many animals and that lived off Lorelléi's lilting lullabies, slowly wasted away. The trees began to die and animals began to disappear- it was a sorrowful time. Hunters found that prey was not as bountiful as before and soon had to seek other means to provide for their families.

     One evening a hunter went into Solon forest, hoping for game. He went deep into the forest before he heard a rustling sound and soon a young doe bounded forward. He chased the doe with his bow but he could not quite catch it. The doe was a welcome sight in this forest and as the sun slowly set, the hunter gave up chase and headed back towards town. He vowed to himself that he would kill this doe someday.

     Word soon spread about the beautiful doe that could run and leap like no other could. Hunters from all over flocked towards Solon forest attempting to kill the doe but to no avail. The doe was simply too quick and smart; she could not be caught.

     As the doe was seen more often, the forest slowly revived back to a pleasant place and once more it was filled with greenery and the sounds of animals trekking through it. Yet strange stories started to float around Solon about the doe. It was said that when the sun set in the sky, anyone who dared walk through Solon forest was set upon by a woman with a gash in her head. A man who swore he had encountered this woman said that the doe transformed into Lorelléi when darkness washed over the forest and that she would kill any man who entered her forest after dark. Moments after he uttered his words about Lorelléi, he passed away, her latest victim.

     The rumours swirled about in whispers as more and more men disappeared after dark in Solon forest. Their bodies were never recovered. The whispers eventually reached Jorge, who had been in a deep depression ever since Lorelléi disappeared. One night he entered Solon forest, seeking to be reunited with Lorelléi. Yet in the darkness, Lorelléi could not tell that Jorge was Jorge, she only saw that he was a man and killed him. It was afterwards that she realized what she had done and let loose a cry of such grief, that no one who heard it could've kept in their tears- such was the sadness.

     Over the next few weeks, hunters who went into Solon forest reported seeing the doe and a stag which had never been there before. The doe appeared to be chasing the stag but the stag would always stay ahead of her as she stayed ahead of the hunters. The doe would let loose a cry that sounded like an echo for forgiveness but the stag would not respond.

     Roge was curious about the stag and doe. He knew their pelts would catch a fair price at the market and that if he were to bring them down, the praise he would receive would know no ends. He armed himself with a sturdy, wooden bow and arrows tipped with silver before entering the forest in daylight in search of the elusive stag and doe.

     Roge never returned from his quest but his bow was found on the outskirts of the forest and near it his footprints as if he had left the forest and made it out before darkness fell. After this the stag and doe were never seen again. Many were curious as to where they had gone but were relieved that it was safe to travel after the sun set now. It was twenty years later when another hunter found the body of Roge in the heart of Solon forest. The body was fresh as if he had just been killed. An arrow tipped with silver stuck out of his chest. Around him there were hoof marks- that of stag and that of a doe.

Title #8 of Short Horror Story Anthology: Candlelight

Candlelight
     Aurora is a freshman at her local college. She soon meets Mindy, a fellow freshman and soon they're both inseparable friends. As time goes on, strange things occur that leave Aurora in fear. With time running out she soon learns- words have double meanings. Never traverse the darkness by candlelight, for when the flame disappears- you're never alone.


Lady in Black Updates
     The novel is progressing at a brisk pace. I am able to reveal more about how the story will be seen. As I said before the story is primarily seen through the eyes of Skrill, a 22 year old reporter. To less of an extent the perspectives of three other characters will be used, to make a total of four perspectives (two male and two female). Each perspective is unique and important to the story. Skrill's perspective will be the more used perspective, but he is not the main protagonist of the story.
     I'm going to summarize the story in one small phrase: "It's raining," - Lady in Black

Title #7 of Short Horror Story Anthology: The Blood Rose

This story explores the dynamic between a young woman and an old man.

The Blood Rose
     Fleur is in her last year of high school. Driving home from school one day, she loses control of her car, causing damage to a maple tree on Old Man Edward's lawn. To avoid having any charges pressed against her, she agrees to Old Man Edward's request that she do menial chores around his mansion, to pay for the damage done to the tree. Now Old Man Edward was a 107 years old and a heartless man, with no relatives or friends that cared about him.  He had lived in his mansion his whole life--alone. As the weeks fly by, Fleur begins to care for him but soon she stumbles upon his past. As mean-spirited as he seems now, she soon realizes one thing: He has a heart--buried deep in snow.

Title #6 of Short Horror Story Anthology: Red Eyes

     I have neglected to post a story title all week and as result I shall post two including this one today.

Red Eyes
     Shane and Ella are a newly wed couple. Back from their honeymoon, they move into an old house, intending to renovate it slowly. About a month after they move in, they host a  welcome party and everyone seems to be having a good time. Then someone disappears... no trace of him is ever found. Where could he be? Someone... or something knows the answer. From the shadows, something scuttles, the red eyes deep and penetrating- watching patiently as the clock ticks...as the long and short hand become one.

Title #5 of Short Horror Story Anthology: Forever and Ever

     This is one of my personal favourites because of the unexpected ending to the story.

Forever and Ever

     Drake is an undergraduate university student in his 4th and final year of his business program. Besides his parents he has 4 younger siblings- 8 year old quadruplets (Liz, Katie, Sheila and Trent). Still grieving over his girlfriend's disappearance 2 years ago, he meets someone who lightens up his world. But soon he realizes that there are two types of love- one of them can imprison you forever. 

Lady in Black Updates

     Continuing from my previous post, I will introduce one more character, 26 year old Inna. Inna's role in the book is fascinating. Although he is not the main protagonist of the novel, he is a pivotal character and helps develop the overall plot.

Title #4 of Short Horror Story Anthology: Loréllei

     This is the 4th title in my anthology. I'm not posting the titles in the order that they will be in my anthology, rather I'm posting in a random order. Today I will post TWO titles.

Loréllei
     In a town far, far away lives a woman named Loréllei. She was beautiful and enchanting; even animals found her alluring. The town's forest was her favourite place; she often sang as she explored its many paths. As much as she was pined for by many, they could not have her for she was in love with a man who loved her back passionately- yet love can be a dangerous thing, especially if it lurks in the forest ... and what lurks in the forest can make the hunter, become the hunted.

Lady in Black Updates
     The main protagonist is a man named Mask. Sometimes the novel will be seen through his perspective but for the most part it will be seen through Skrill's eyes. Another important character in the book is Esme, a 22 year old dancer and student.

Title #3 of Short Horror Story Anthology: Time Limit

     The story synopsis posted below strays away from conventional horror as do most of my stories in my anthology. This is an odd story and I'm very excited to finally write out the full version of the story, soon.

Time Contract
     Desmond is a 22 year old university student in his final year and a track runner. A mediocre sprinter at best, he strives for the top and when he gets there ... he must remember: words can be binding.


The Lady in Black updates
     The novel is progressing at a rapid pace. The novel is primarily seen through the eyes of a 22 year old man named Skrill, a budding reporter/photographer. From his perspective we see how the events unfold. The strange events in his city lead him on a path filled with puzzles and photos that don't make sense.

     Skrill is a main character but he is not the main protagonist/antagonist. I am choosing not to reveal which character has the most importance as of now but in the coming weeks I will.

I See You

I See You

    It was June 21^st, the summer solstice as people called it for it was the longest day of the year and Rix was in his bedroom staring out the window. The window was one of three- it would have been a normal rectangular window had it not been for the semicircle addition at the top. The other two windows were slightly smaller replicas of half the larger window. One was placed on each side of the large window and all three almost completely covered the back wall. The sheer size of the windows did not allow Rix to be inconspicuous. His windows afforded him a splendid view of the neighbourhood, but everyone could see him; it was a view that lacked the privacy a smaller window would have offered.

    Rix was admiring the beautiful sunset- motley of colours splayed across the sky as if the sky itself were a rainbow- yet the setting sun allowed the trees to cast ominous shadows that danced in the breeze. By the light of the setting sun, a disc of gold in the horizon, the shadows appeared to be wraiths flitting about on the ground, as demonic looking as any creature conjured from hell. It was a silent night, no one was strolling about. From time to time the eerie silence was interrupted by a sudden gust of wind rattling the branches. It would then caper off into silence again. The stillness unnerved Rix. There were always people out, especially when the sun was still out. However it was night even if it appeared to be late evening. His watch said it was 9:04 pm- some people slept at 9.

    BEEP! BEEP! Rix turned around. The sound was coming from his laptop, which was opened up on his desk. It was a black Toshiba that he had gotten as a gift for his 23rd birthday. His room was brightly lit by a miniature chandelier and it illuminated the screen.

    BEEP! BEEP! He sat down on his chair- one of those rolling black ones that every Staples has in stock- and saw that it was his girlfriend, Jasmine calling via Skype. He accepted the call.

    Jasmine’s face appeared into view. Her pearly white smile sparkled as her brown eyes shined with joy. Rix smiled to himself. There was never a time when Jasmine was not happy to see him. Her constant happiness was infectious and made him feel warm inside. She had delicate features encased by a wreath of ebony curls that always smelled of her namesake, with a faint wisp of roses and vanilla.

     "Hey baby! Parent’s aren’t home just Ellie! I have so much to tell you!" Ellie was Jasmine’s 17 year old sister. They always argued but Jasmine adored her.

    "Hey, how was your day? Seems like you have a stories to tell, let’s hear it," said Rix, grinning broadly.

    "So today I went out to get--" Jasmine started to say.

    Tap, Tap, Tap. Tap, Tap, Tap. "Did you hear that? There’s a tapping sound coming from your side!" interrupted Rix.  His face turned pale, almost as white as chalk. "There’s someone in your house Jasmine. You should get out … now."

     "Nice try Rixie,” said Jasmine, calling him by his pet name. "I don’t scare as easily as I used to.  Besides silly, it’s just a tree branch tapping against my window," she said giggling.

    Rix laughed. "I’ll scare you properly someday!"

    "Sure Rixie, keep dreaming," she said affectionately. "Anyways as I was saying, today I went out to get--" She stopped mid-sentence. "Rix, I think someone’s really in the house," she said quietly. Her eyes widened in fear and her smile disappeared.

    "Very funny. You know, there is an art to scaring someone that you haven’t perfected Jasmine," said Rix laughing.

    "It’s definitely not an art you've perfected!!" she said giggling.

    Ellie stepped into Jasmine’s room. "Hey, I’m going over to Shelly's house, I’ll be back within an hour," she said.

    Jasmine turned around. "More like you're going over to Stine's house," said Jasmine. Ellie shot her a dark look. " Don't worry, I don't care where you're going just be back before Mom and Dad get home. Lock the door behind you."

    "Yea, yea," Ellie said hurriedly. She left the room. She ran down the stairs as her footsteps echoed in the silence of the house.  A few seconds later, Jasmine and Rix heard the door slam shut.

    "Finally she’s gone. I don’t want her eavesdropping on everything I tell you," said Jasmine.

    "She could be back soon, you never know! So if you want to talk, get talking," chuckled Rix.

    "Ok, ok I’ll tell you what I was going to say--" she stopped in mid-sentence again. She had heard her house door open. Through Skype, Rix could hear it to.

    “Looks like your parents are home,” said Rix.

    “I think so too, they're a bit early though. I wasn’t expecting them until after 11.” She paused to think for a second. “That’s weird I would’ve heard the jingle of their keys as they tried to open the door ... Ellie!!” she groaned. “She forgot to lock the door, like always.  Maybe it’s Ellie coming back to get her books, that wouldn't surprise me. Ok well-” She leaned her head towards her bedroom door. She could hear voices drifting up towards her, voices Rix could hear to- voices they could not recognize.  The words spoken were indiscernible but it was clear that the voices belonged to two men. Jasmine’s eyes widened, her fear almost tangible. This was not a joke Rix was playing, this was reality. There were actually people in her home. Her pulse started to race. Her mind raced frantically with thoughts she could not control- thoughts of ending up murdered and dead. She gulped as a trickle of sweat ran down her face.

    “Jasmine, listen to me. Minimize your Skype screen so I can watch what’s happening and go hide under your bed. I’m going to call 911,” said Rix amazingly calm. His heart was beating fast and he felt fear take a hold of him. The warm feeling he had moments ago was replaced by an uncharacteristic chill given the season. It was a chill borne of concern and fear for Jasmine. He did not know what to expect but he knew he had to be strong for her. If he panicked she would to and then all would be lost.

    Luckily he had a view of most of her small room. There was a fairly large bed with ornate carvings of roses on the maple headboard, in the corner of her room. It was covered by a black duvet with matching pillows. Her closet was opposite her bed and the desk upon which Jasmine’s laptop rested was obviously out of sight. The carpet was of a dark blue shade, which he could see ended at the doorway of her bedroom located between her bed and closet. Beyond that he could not really see anything.

    Thump. Thump. The men had started to climb the stairs. Each footstep echoed off the elm wood staircase, breaking the unearthly silence of the house.

    “Rix I’m scared,” whimpered Jasmine. She knew they were getting closer to the top of the stairs. She knew it was a matter of time before they would come to her room.

    “I know you are honey but I’m going to get you out of this. Now go hide under your bed. I love you,” he said confidently.

    “Ok, I love you to,” she whispered. Her voice trembled and faltered, as the tears started to come. She ran towards her bed, her footsteps indiscernible on the nylon carpet. She lifted up the duvet to get under the bed.

Rix watched in horror as realization hit him. It would be hard for her to get under the bed as the gap was not made for people to go under. Jasmine tried going head first. She struggled to push through, but to no avail. In Jasmine’s panic she had forgotten to close her bedroom door and turn off the room light. The men could guess that someone was or had been in the room.

    Thump. Thump. Thump. The men were nearing the top of the stairs. Rix frantically looked for his cell phone which he had left on his desk. His desk was littered with papers and textbooks- typical of that of a university student. He rifled through his papers but could not find his cell phone. In his frustration he swept his papers and books off his desk, frantically trying to locate his cell phone. He was starting to panic, his sense of urgency driving him forward.

     Jasmine pushed harder to get under the bed. Her head made it through slightly, but then suddenly she was stuck. Rix glanced at the screen to see Jasmine struggling to extricate herself from the grip of the bed frame.

     Rix could sense that the men had come upstairs. He could hear them as they tried jiggling the doorknob of the first room. He willed Jasmine to get under the bed, his fear increasing with each second that passed.

“It’s locked,” a man with a slight French accent said. The other man said nothing. Still Jasmine struggled to get under the bed.

    Thump. Thump. They were starting to walk towards the next room which happened to be Jasmine’s. Rix clenched his hair tightly and shut his eyes for a moment, fearing the worst was about to happen, but opened them almost instantaneously, knowing Jasmine needed him there. She started to wriggle more frantically, but still she was unable to move.

    Thump. Thump. Their footsteps had gotten closer. Rix could hear it echoing off of the hardwood floor.

Tap, Tap, Tap. Tap, Tap, Tap.  The footsteps stopped. “I hear a tapping sound, I think maybe someone is inside that room,” said the man with the French accent.

    Rix froze unable to take his eyes away from the screen.  His hand started to tremble, he held his breath, hardly daring to breathe.

    Thump, Thump. Their footsteps resumed and they stopped in front of her doorway. Jasmine continued to wriggle barely concealed by the door. “This is interesting. The light is on, someone is here for sure,” said the man with the French accent. He paused. Rix could now see the man clearly. He had dark eyes that could have been either black or brown. He had unkempt, brown hair with stubble covering his pale skin. His face was marred by an ugly scar that stretched from underneath is right eye, over the bridge of his nose and ended near his left jawbone. It gave him an inhuman appearance- repulsive and terrifying at the same time. The man who had not spoken stood slightly behind his partner, his face out of view from Rix. Rix could see that the man had glossy black hair and wore what appeared to be a well fitted leather jacket. It was a jacket that spoke of wealth, with its charcoal black, glossy, uncracked appearance. It was a stark contrast to the leather jacket worn by the man with the French accent. His jacket had a dull sheen and it was cracked all over.  

    “Where could they be? We know one is outside,” the man with the French accent said, laughing manically.

Rix felt goose bumps all over his arms. He knew what he was talking about. They got to Ellie! he thought.

The man who had not spoke shook his head ever so slightly as if to say, there is no one here, if there was they would be dead .. like Ellie.

    Tap, Tap, Tap. Tap, Tap, Tap. “Ahh the tapping noise is just that branch tapping against the window. Nothing to be concerned about I guess,” the man with the French accent muttered.

    Rix knew that if anything were to happen it would happen within the next few minutes. His eyes stayed glued to the screen. Jasmine get under the bed, please get under the bed, he thought.

     The men stepped into the room and glanced around, appraising everything with their eyes slowly. Just as their eyes flitted towards Jasmine's bed, she pushed through, miraculously without making a sound. They stared at the bed for a moment, their gaze seemingly of a suspicious nature but then they turned away. Rix sighed in relief, close call, he thought. While the man with the French accent looked all around, his face visible to Rix, the other man’s face was never visible. His face was turned so perfectly that Rix could not get a glimpse of who he was at all. It was as if he knew that Rix was watching them through his laptop. It was an unsettling feeling and panic threatened to engulf him. 
    Rix glanced at the man’s hand. What he saw nearly made him scream. He bit his tongue hard, trying to stave off the terror that was overwhelming him. Hanging from the man’s hand was a knife. Dripping from the blade was blood. It dripped steadily towards the ground. Now that he was focused on the knife he could hear the drip.. drip.. drip.. as the blood fell like tears. He knew it was Ellie’s blood. These men were not just intruders. They were people who had killed and would not hesitate to do it again. If they found Jasmine, the game would be over.

    “Should we take the laptop?” asked the man with the French accent, gesturing in Rix's direction. The other man shook his head and gestured towards the closet with his knife. The man with the French accent obediently opened the closet and ransacked it for valuables. He tossed aside clothing as he muttered under his breath about how no one had anything of worth in their houses these days. His partner watched him, the back of his head facing Rix. He was motionless the entire time, even the hand holding the knife did not move as his partner continued to search for valuables. He seemed almost statue-like but the constant drip.. drip.. drip.. as the blood fell to the ground, reminded Rix, that man was dangerous. The man with the French accent was about to give up the search when he found a pair of gold and crystal earrings, evidently very expensive. He smiled with glee. This would do.

    Tap, Tap, Tap. Tap, Tap, Tap. Rix watched as the man pocketed the earrings he had gotten for Jasmine’s 22^nd birthday a few weeks ago. The man with the knife gestured towards the doorway, his indication that they should leave. Rix sighed in relief. Jasmine would be ok, nothing would happen to her. He looked at his desk again and finally spotted his cell phone behind a textbook he had not thrown off the table. He immediately dialed 911.

    “Hello, what is your emergency?” a monotone voice said on the other end.

     "I need help. My-my girlfriend is being robbed, I-I think her sister might be dead,” he whispered into the phone. He did not have to whisper but he felt as if the man with the knife was standing just a few feet away and not in his Jasmine's house. Seeing everything through his laptop screen made it only too real for him. His sweaty hands struggled to keep their grip on his phone.

    The man with the French accent paused a moment. “Do you hear a sound?”

    The man with a knife slowly nodded his head. It must be the tapping of the tree branch on Jasmine’s window that they can hear ... because I can still hear it to, thought Rix.

    “ Ok Rix, I want you to calm down and tell me where your girlfriend lives,” the dispatcher said.

    “13 Petals Road,” he whispered frantically.

    The man with the knife slowly turned around and walked towards the bed. Rix’s pulse started to race. Why are they coming back, they were just about to leave! “Please hurry up, they’re going towards the bed!” Rix screamed into the phone.

    “Please calm down. Nothing will happen to your girlfriend. She will be fine. The police will be there within 10 minutes,” said the dispatcher in an infuriatingly calm voice.

    Suddenly the man with the knife looked under the bed. “They’ve found her, please help her!” Rix sobbed. Then a thought struck him. He froze. “I think they heard me,” he whispered into the phone. He could only watch in horror as the man with the knife dragged Jasmine out from under the bed.

    Rix could hear Jasmine screaming his name and begging for someone to help her. Rix could only stare, powerless to help as she struggled against the man with the knife. Still Rix could not see his face. 
    The lights in the room suddenly turned off and her screams abruptly stopped. Rix held his breath, not knowing what to do. Then a guttural voice came through the speakers. It was a voice that would send anyone running to hide under their bed. “I See You,” the voice laughed and the screen went blank.

    “They’ve got her –hello?! Hello?!” Rix screamed into the phone.

     Nobody was on the other end, the call had been disconnected.

Title #2 of Short Horror Story Anthology: Teaser for I See You

My intention was to release a title per week from my short story anthology, however I am planning to post a short horror story that I wrote, from a collection that I'm writing to use in my anthology, by the end of this week. It will be the only short story from that collection that I release- sort of a sneak preview of the types of stories you can expect from my book. In anticipation of that, I will release the title and a brief synopsis as a teaser for what is to come. My short story anthology comprises of stories of a different nature. They are stories with twists and turns and will hopefully leave the reader with a sense of anticipation.

I See You 
     23 year old Rix is in the best relationship of his life. His girlfriend Jasmine is the woman that he's always dreamed of having. His life is in order and and he feels happy- he has no complaints about his life. It is the day of the summer solstice, when the sun stays out longer than usual- but even on days like this darkness can come faster than imagined. For when the lights go out ... anything can happen. drip.. drip.. drip..



The Lady in Black Updates
     The character who's point of view I'm writing from works for a newspaper. He is a main character but he is not the only one. There are other characters that have as great a depth as he does. Everything around isn't what it seems anymore. He has to figure out what's going on and determine how it all connects to him.

Title #1 of Short Horror Story Anthology: Room 302

This is a title in my short story horror anthology that I've been writing. I have included a synopsis. I will release a title every week.

Room 302
- 17 year Old Xena has it all. Good looks, money, popularity and any guy she wants but one. After what she loves the most is burnt away, 20 years fly by. Suddenly she's a corporate lawyer and her past is catching up to her. The sounds of insects crawling at night, the bite marks in the morning- nothing makes sense. Why is her past biting her now?

More updates to come, also stay tuned for progress on my novel, The Lady in Black!

- Mango E