Lúthwen, Aelion: A Narrative Fiction

The house had an unusual smell to it that Bryan couldn’t quite his finger on it. Miguel had never minded any of the people in the village had always believed the story ever since they were a young child, but there showed no evidence of this so called “Witch”. old lady on the corner of Babylan St. because he always knew it was just a folktale,so they wouldn’t go into a stranger 's house.

They quieted down and listened to the sounds of the valley and the forest around them.

Empty. He was alone. I turn back to Flich and Walker, brushing my hair out of my face. Flich blinks at me, dazed with shock and Gena appears frightened. Walker, however, is suspicious with narrow eyes.

The first thing he noticed was that it was even darker in there than outside. The dense foliage blocked out any light that could have come through by the moon and stars. Growls and rustling were the only way to know that he wasn’t the only living thing in this forest. He continued on, ignoring the pain in his leg, the pain in his heart. He continued on, until he reached the heart of the forest.

While walking in the woods they passed across a dark and gloomy house with all the windows

They were passing a magnificent antebellum mansion on the left. A deep-buried memory hovered on the edge of consciousness just out of reach. She knew this house, but how. Something wasn’t right. It shouldn’t be here. It belonged further down the street. She could visualize a large crystal chandelier above a glossy wooden floor with the rugs and furniture removed to make ample room for their guests to

He waited until everyone was out of the room, before he started for the door as well. He quickly walked down the hallway, his head down trying not to come face to face with anyone. He finally came to the courtyard and walked up to a tree that was a far away distance from where everyone else was. He let out along sigh as he slid down the tree. He closed his eyes, relaxed.

Stella stopped dead in her tracks, as she looked around and took a deep breath. She shivered as she surveyed the forest around her. Stanley, who was walking with her, stopped a few feet ahead of her and he turned around to look at her.

The house had changed a bit since he had been in it so long ago. The house was way more quiet. It seemed as if someone threw a blanket over them that blocked out all sound. Roger sat as Ms.Bates ate her chocolate and they talked for quite a while. It was nearly night by the time Roger and Ms.Bates had finished catching up with each other. It seemed as if the whole world had passed Roger by while everyone else was pulled along with it. It seemed really weird to see Ms.Bates with a little more grey in her hair then the last time he saw her. Ms. Bates thanked Roger for the chocolates and they said a long goodbye and Roger left. He l new that it wouldnt be long until he and Ms. Bates met up

I knocked on the door to the LeBeouf manor, looking up at the grand entryway. There was a small light hanging over the front door from the porch above, as there were indeed two stories of wrap-around porch. The door was ornate and made of a solid wood, and the handle was a brass. This really was a antique, and just being able to stand in the entrance was an experience.

So, I move, going through this fantasy forest that put the forests on earth to shame. I go towards the

The house was over the trees between them and the hills, catching glimpses of the roofs, perhaps a tower, of Hill House. They put

In the corner of the room, an old lady was slouched on a cracked, olive upholstered chair. A man gripped her veiny hand and softly patted her back. She appeared to suffer from a vigorous cough, which originated deep in her chest. Delicate curls framed her fragile face as hair was neatly swept to one side. A double string of ivory pearls swooped around her neck, landing in the lull of her collarbone. Vintage black eyeglasses were diligently balancing on the bridge of her crinkly nose. The wrinkles that adorned her face were indicative of many years lived and with each cough, they furrowed. She wore a knitted rose cardigan over what appeared to be a light blue night gown. It was evident that she had been rushed to the hospital as she was still wearing her fucia puffy slippers.

The trees around them were larger than any Eve had ever seen before, with thick branches and boughs that hung low to the ground, forming a small hideaway beneath them. It was past the boughs of one tree that she was led.

Dream Fianna turned. “You should have. You missed the witch thing. This is part of what you need to understand.”